I am having some hiccups setting up this page. Please be patient. I am having difficulty getting the categories menu to come up in the sidebar and may have to change the format.
To find posts you currently have to scroll down the page . Not ideal I know. In the mean time enjoy this beautiful photograph to brighten your day. It comes from my dear friend Jasvinder Singh who resides in Dharamsala, India. Thank you Jas for another beautiful image.
Hinterland Writing has been established to help you make sense of the past, to help you bring together all of your family history research.
Do you have a shoe box or suitcase full of family history photos and documents?
I can help you present this information in an interesting fun way, by helping make your ancestors three-dimensional characters allowing them to tell their story.
Perhaps you are the facts, figures, and charts person. I can help you put all your research together into something you will be proud to hand down to your children.
I have been researching family history since the early 1980s and have a wealth of experience to draw on. I complete my Bachelor of Creative Writing through the University of the Sunshine Coast in 2016 and I am in the process of completing a Diploma of Family History Studies through the University of Tasmania. I am also a qualified Coach and Mentor and Life Celebrant. In 2017, I commence my postgraduate studies with family history based research as my focus.
A published author primarily in academic journals, I recently project managed the microfiction insert in the 2015 USC Anthology Within Without and have co-edited and project managed an anthology of creative family history stories based on work produced by students of the Writing for Family History unit UTAS 2015-2016. The expected publication date for this anthology, Secrets, Twists, Triumphs & Tragedies is June-July 2016.
It was during the preparation of this work that I discovered how much I enjoy helping people put flesh on the bones of their ancestors and giving them the opportunity to tell their stories. I will work with you to organize your work, releasing it from boxes and binders into a family history artifact. The result may be a book, a journal, a scrapbook or an online publication.
The most important thing is it will be what you want, and something you can share.
If you would like more information about our services you may contact Hinterland Writing by leaving a comment below or by emailing Hinterlandwriting@gmail.com or via our Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/hinterlandwriting/
The beam groaned and cracked, falling directly across William’s legs. Pain surged through his body as the weight pinned him to the tunnel floor. It was so dark. He heard fading footsteps on the ladder, but the ringing in his ears blotted out most sounds. He tried to spit out the grit in his mouth. His spittle was thick and coppery. His mouth was full of blood. He coughed, choked and passed out.
Someone was screaming, the noise drew him back. He raised his hand trying to clear the gravel and grit from his face. The effort was too much. His breath came in bubbling, ragged gasps. He realised it was his voice he could hear. Making a conscious effort to stop, he tried to think of a song. The only one he could think of was, Onward Christian Soldiers. He could not make his mind move past that one phrase.
Onward Christian Soldiers, there is blood in my mouth. Why couldn’t he feel his legs?
He felt both hot and cold. The cold was seeping up his body, but his chest was burning. Surrounded by the blackest black. He could see nothing, but he could smell and taste the cordite.
What had they done? What would happen now?
Onward Christian Soldiers, he was dying. Now the cold had reached his belly. The burning stopped. He wanted to sleep. The cold crept up his armpits. It was oddly comforting. His lids fluttered, he closed his eyes and slept.
Spring Gully Mine Explosion 22 January 1904
South Australian Register (Adelaide, SA : 1839 – 1900) 23 January 1904 p 4
Oral History – Mr P Morse (son of William Morse) 1998
Image is Item MM 3480 Negative – Spring Gully, Bendigo, Victoria, circa 1910 Collection Museum of Victoria.
LMorse Copyright 2016
Is there anything more frustrating than family folklore that becomes embedded in the fabric of your family’s history?
Short answer no! These will o’ the wisp tales take on some form of Holy Grail that must not be disputed. Often they simply hide family secrets.
An example is Ada Maria Elliman. Ada or ‘Naunt” as she was known in the family. An incredibly private and strong woman. The story she told was, she was born in New Orleans of mixed blood, her word was Octoroon. Why did a woman born in Dromana around 1871[i] invent such a story? She was a tall good looking woman, who never married. She had two children out of wedlock, Ethel Arthamecy registered 1893[ii] and Fredrick Ernest registered 1895[iii]. Both were registered a Schnapper Point, Dromana. Looking at the siblings, it is obvious they have the same father. The plot thickens, both children possessed dark skin tones, dark curly hair, brown eyes and snub noses. These physical traits were passed down to Fred’s daughter who was known as “Ginny” by the family. Her name is Patricia.
Ada consistently misrepresented the truth. Shortly before she died[iv], she burnt all her personal papers. She never revealed the father’s name. She was cremated. Her ashes were scattered. The secret died with her. No evidence of her life remains except in public records
[i] Victorian Birth Deaths and Marriages 15071/1871
[ii] Victorian Birth Deaths and Marriages 12174/1893
[iii] Victorian Birth Deaths and Marriages 15927/1895
[iv] Victorian Birth Deaths and Marriages 5642/1952
LMorse Copyright 2016
‘Joe I can’t do this no more. You be working day and night and if you not be working here on the farm, you be out there searching for gold. I can’t stay locked away out here all the time. I won’t!’
‘For God’s sake woman, what do you want? You’ve got the Hardimans at Benjeroop and the Hetheringtons are just down the way. I don’t understand what you want.’
‘I want to be in town Joe. Where there be people I can talk to. Places I can shop instead of waiting four days to get me supplies.’
‘What would you say if we invest some money in town, say in a public house, would that help Annie? You can run it while I keep on here. I’ll come down now and again to give you a hand. You can take young Lennon with you. He can do the heavy work.’
‘What about the children, will you be happy with Margarethe and Willy in a public house? Oh Joe, tell me you will.’
Annie hopped from one foot to the other, waiting for his answer. Looking at her he saw a glimpse of the young headstrong girl he’d married. He couldn’t refuse her. It would be a good investment, they had to look to the future.
‘Annie, calm down, calm down!’ Holding her, he kissed her. ‘There’s a licensing hearing next week. The Edinburgh Arms in the High Street needs a new licensee. We’ll put in an application if that makes you happy.’