Frank

Have you ever thought about the life you have lived? The person you have become and what you had to go through to get there? Well, Jarra Freehart has and it wasn’t all good. I can tell you that. Horrific might be a good description. Attempting to destroy yourself is one thing. But equally effective is destroying other people’s trust and confidence in you along the way. Fancy having to admit something like that. Self-awareness can be very elusive. Jarra had his hands on it several times. But it always slipped away. The only thing he’d ever really achieved was not dying along the way. He came close a few times. He had to write this book. While there was still time. He had to empty his head before he could develop any further and maybe become a better person. Although he would never consider himself a bad person. Just lost in a world that no one else was allowed into. His own private world. Visitors were not welcome at all. Not ever.

Jarra Freehart didn’t find this laborious task easy, you know. It was hard work. That’s for sure. But he’s so glad he eventually did it. Because now, his new life could begin. But that’s another story.

Freaks Like Me

Georgie was just a typical teenager when it happened; she was studying hard for a place at her dream university and having fun with her friends on weekends. She always knew what was coming next. She had her entire life planned, until one night and one event turned her whole world upside down. In an instant, everything had changed, and it was never to be the same again.

“Freaks Like Me” is a touching memoir about invisible illness, mental health and the prejudice that sadly comes alongside it. It’s the true story of how one girl and her loved ones finally learnt to accept the hand they had been dealt…

From a Little Neighbourhood

Nothing could be any better in the world, apart from a self-discovery of fulfilling his dream, just a young man from a little neighbourhood finally living his dream. Focus directed on embarking on the way of life past all adversity and truly finding where you belong in the world. Further sharing information to the world that would not only entertain them but also aspire them to a greater life experience and enjoy it.

From Where I Stand

When two or more people find sufficient in common to call themselves ‘us’, they will strengthen their togetherness by looking for a ‘them’ to dislike.

Indarjit’s law

It’s fashionable to talk of ‘hate crime’ as if a small minority of people are infected with a virus of hate against those they see as different. It is not like that. Prejudice and fear of difference affects us all. 

I learnt about my Sikh religion almost as an outsider looking in to find surprising teachings on justice, compassion and a need to stand up for others.

Discrimination in employment in the ’60s, normal and lawful at the time, led to my turning down a well-paid job to go to India, where writing under the pen name of Victor Pendry, I became a local hero to the Sikh community suffering majority persecution. This standing up to injustice through writing, speaking and importantly, humour, is the story of this book.

You cannot choose your battlefield

 God does that for you

 But you can plant a standard

Where  a standard never flew.

Nathalia Crane

Gardens of Deprivation

The first four decades of my life were spent in a small country that was nested in a hostile and unstable old region, Israel. I strongly felt, enjoyed, and participated in, the revival of that country and experienced the uneasy reintegration of the returning descendants of Abraham, Issac and Jacob from the four corners of the world. I have felt the pain of the less happy residents of that reviving country. In particular, I have felt the hardship of the Mizrachi Israelis – the Jewish returnees and refugees from Arab countries.

I have wished to live in a world that is not divided by religion, ethnicity and skin colour. As there is no such world, I embraced the second best – the remote, sparsely populated southern continent that has provided a home to convicts and refugees from the old world. I arrived in that continent, Australia, at almost forty years of age with an already developed strong sensitivity to ethnic-based social injustices.

My tales from my land of origin and from my land of choice record interwoven personal and national memoirs of ethnically based inequalities and injustices. I wrote those tales with a hope that they will make a contribution to the moderation of the intensity of such social problems. The colour of my tales is brown – the typical colour of the skin of the Mizrachi Israelis and the colour of many members of the minority ethnic groups that live in Australia.

Gathering Moss

An atmospheric, mainly biographical story set in the 1930s-1950s, of a British Naval Officer's determination to foil the enemy's wartime dive bombing of our fleet. Hundreds of lives were saved by his suggested adaptation of the big, anti-aircraft barrage balloons which were flown above cities and other land based targets, to be specially tailored for the defence of shipping as well.

Combined with this moving story is a colourful account of family life at that time, and it was not very long after the ending of the Second World War that Commander "Basher" Boorman began to find himself involved in certain minor skirmishes on his own home front.

Commander's daughters do not always obey orders, even if their father has the appropriate rank, and this teenager certainly had a mind of her own. Determined to pursue a career not approved by her father, Basher's daughter found herself to be out-manoeuvred. But battles sometimes resolve themselves in unexpected ways, as was eventually the way with this particular one.

'Gathering Moss' is a fast moving, evocative story which covers a variety of events, backgrounds, and human emotions.

God's Childminder

In this book, Jean Barbour Clark gives us a glimpse of the many challenges she faced when caring for children in churches from the late 1950s until 1995. The churches tended to be in disadvantaged areas and Jean shares with us the many struggles she encountered and also the tremendous personal rewards. This is a refreshing account of one woman’s desire to give children memories to treasure – golden moments that they will be able to look back on with great affection and warmth.

You will shed the odd tear when you read this engaging memoir. But don’t be surprised if you also find yourself laughing out loud as you empathise with the author’s many struggles to keep abreast of the ever-changing children’s culture.

The book is written in such a way that each story can stand on its own, the reader will find it difficult to put it down.

Hello Troj

Hello Troj is a book that took over three decades to experience and 12 years to write. It is a book about growing up as a young female arts protégé during the last decade of Communism in Eastern Europe, in a society shaped by a rapidly disintegrating censorship apparatus struggling to sustain itself, in the world of the so-called “Intelligencia” governed by middle-aged white men, many of them prone to predatory behavior and accustomed to getting their own way. It is a deeply personal and unapologetic coming-of-age story that circles around the suicide of a younger brother and trying to figure oneself out in the context of dystopia and chaos.

But this is also a book about growing up in a family of heroes and madmen, all of them insanely creative but never recognized as anything but average, invisible, “just regular folks”. There is nothing “regular” or “average” about them.

Hidden Treasure

Here is a spell-binding and profound memoir for our times, sparked by the sudden death of a beloved partner. An intensely intimate yet fresh and light approach draws us into the delights of love, the consuming nature of grief, and a potent journey which unveils the mysterious treasures inherent in heartfelt engagement with the significant ups and downs of life.

Not only are we privy to the depth of the author’s thoughts and feelings but her partner comes across as a person with a real and secret unknown life all his own beyond the page, giving an appreciation for the profundity of a person we will never directly know. And a spectacular forest in New South Wales comes alive as an integral vital companion in this journey of discovery.

Hidden Treasure is not so hidden, it is a light of mature love that two attuned adults brought to life which emerges as a spiritual journey of deep relationship with the mystery of life.

This book acknowledges the vagaries of life with all its pitfalls and yet – ultimately – it is uplifting, ending on a hopeful joyous note. It holds the potential of nourishment for those who are grieving in a world currently dominated by loss and contains inspiration of the most dignified kind, beautifully portrayed.

Hippie Kushi Waking up to Life

Most people as they get older tend to forget about themselves. It seems to be a normal part of the process of life and it happens to the best of us. We forget to reach our own potential because we are far too focused on bringing up a family, working long hours to pay off the mortgage and bills, locked into the cycle of the never-ending treadmill of work and career. It is easy to lose our way and disregard our own existential well-being.

Suddenly one day thirty years later, we say to ourselves, ‘What happened to the person I used to be, what happened to my life? We used to be fun, go to parties, dance the night away at night clubs and have loads of crazy friends.’ Your social life now consists of a bottle of wine at home watching TV. Your friends are getting fewer and fewer because over the years you have focused on everybody else except yourselves.

My name is Stephen Cox, I am 55 years old and I describe myself as a modern hippie. I am spiritual, forward-thinking, a traveller of the world and a lover of life. I paint my brow with the colours of the rainbow, I wear bright multi-coloured clothes and beads and I dance with my whirly friends all through the night. I am happy! I have found hippie happiness, I have found Hippie Kushi and I would love it if you find it too.

Hot Soapy Water

So, I see you’ve picked up Hot Soapy Water, a bubble bath that’s not for kids. It’s okay, no need to look over your shoulder, I’m not there, I’ve never been there. Well, you’ve taken the first step. I suppose the question is, are you really going to do that old cliché and judge? “Hot Soapy Water, someone’s fetish with bath time?” Nope.

I haven’t diluted the contents of this book with fragrant bath bombs, candles and Barry White playing in the background. It’s mustard gas in the eyeballs, salt on an open wound. It’s utter modern-day carnage. Stories within stories, short poems. War, death, destruction, a chef’s journey, addiction, hedonism, mental health, trauma, the cold dark blanket of suicide, bravery, courage, bewilderment and some funny shit.

It’s a book you will not put down if you are brave enough to start. Why? Because I’m the voice in your head telling you this. My name is Auguste Knuckles, and you will ask yourself a question when the last page is turned: ‘how am I alive? Am I alive or has an alien written this nuclear bomb narrative fired into a volcano?’

How Hard Can It Be?

So how exactly would you cook a bat?

And what did Jesus get up to between being born in a stable in a hail of publicity, up until he appeared again at about 33 complete with a beard and an NVQ in carpentry?

Questions like this are what happens when a middle-aged, overweight bloke has a mid-life crisis, buys a bike and decides to cycle, unsupported and with minimal training from Land’s End to John O’Groats.

Whilst the actual journey itself is covered in the book in a self-deprecating humorous style of the author, as his physically inadequate body and lack of training battle against the lack of comfort provided by a 2-inch wide saddle along with gravity and nature seemingly working against him for every mile, it is more about the thoughts he has while away from home with nothing else to think about other than pushing the left pedal followed by the right, followed by the left. And the responses to his thoughts from work colleagues, friends and family.