Jackie Parry – author


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Do Authors Read Their Own Books?

Some do.

The manuscripts are read umpteen times while editing and proof-reading and agonising over each and every word. But once finished, I’ve not read my books unless holding a reading, then, of course, it is a prerequisite!

This morning, seeking information, I read excerpts from A Standard Journey.

I laughed; tears trickled.

I ache for that journey.

The adrenaline hits throughout that extraordinary trip systematically peaked. One reviewer, upon finishing the story, stated, “I’m exhausted!”

Here’s an amusing scene that turned me into a panic-hopping lunatic for a few brief, terrifying moments!

‘Untie him, quick!’ I didn’t know what was happening, but I wanted him away from the fence.
Noel held onto Dom as he continued the wheeze and then stopped. We all stood still for a moment waiting to see what would happen next.
Then Dom stuck his front leg out, stiffened his entire body, and hissed out another agonising wheeze.
‘It’s okay, boy, steady, steady,’ Noel soothed as I checked Dom over.
A few moments later ‐ another gasp.
‘Stay here, keep him calm, yell if it gets worse – really yell. I’m calling a vet.’
I bolted into the cottage, banging the doors, and frantically flicked through the phonebook. The second vet practice I rang answered. I explained Dom’s symptoms in a frantic breathless monologue.
‘He’s choking,’ the vet said. ‘It is a minor choke; he’ll be okay.’ He explained calmly, ‘Get a hose, turn on the water, not too fast, but a good run, put the hose in his mouth – a fair way back, but not so he’ll swallow it, but so you make him drink.’
‘Right, right,’ I said, hopping from one foot to another. ‘Can you come if I need you?’
‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry. This is a minor choke; this should work.’
In one movement I replaced the receiver, spun around, and ran for the door. Outside I grabbed the hose and turned the tap on.
‘He’s still the same,’ said Noel, who was noticeably paler.
‘He’s choking: we need to clear it. Hold him as still as you can,’ I yelled as I unravelled the hose, trying not to scare the other horses.
I closed my hand around Dom’s chin, below his bottom lip, and lifted his head as high as I could. Without giving him or me time to think, I shoved the hose in his mouth. Noel and I fought to keep him still and steady the hose. Dom’s such a trusting, kind lad; he fidgeted but didn’t fight.
The water cascaded down my front, down Noel’s back, but half flowed into Dom’s throat, and I heard a painful swallow.
I pulled out the hose.
The three of us stood together, puffing, dripping, looking at each other. Dom shook his head, then lowered it and started eating the grass, as if nothing had happened.
‘Good grief,’ Noel said, and that about summed it all up.

I collected a few more grey hairs that day.

Extraordinary Horse Adventure

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Writing, Writing, and more Writing!

If my chest has expanded for each proud moment during last few months, I’d have a big chest.

With great fanfare, SisterShip Magazine was launched in April after 30 years in dry-dock. In June issue 2 was published and the comments, interest, and support were mind-blowing. August’s issue is well on the way.

SisterShip women on the water

A couple of weeks ago we softly launched our publishing website SisterShip Press Pty Ltd, with our search for women authors.

In the midst of all this, we also launched a short story competition based on fear – an author contacted me directly and thanked us for addressing an important subject.

Last month, with Noel, we celebrated 20 years of marriage, travelling, and an extraordinary life.

So with my big breasts, blown mind, busy fingers, marvellous husband, and neat business partner – I just want to say thanks. The ride-of-my-life continues…


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SisterShip Magazine for women on the water

Last week we launched SisterShip Magazine.

The response has been overwhelming.

First launched thirty years ago, SisterShip Magazine has been taken out of drydock, refitted, and is now ready to set sail. Our team has been busy in the ‘shipyard’ and we are about to untie the lines. We would love you to join us on our voyage!

SisterShip Magazine

SisterShip Magazine

Here is a taster of what is coming up – there are plenty of other surprises… don’t miss out, follow us on our Facebook Page or via our website, so you’ll be the first to know when the first issue is ready.

Let us know what you’d like to read about!


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What Next?

Someone once said to me, “You’re not comfortable unless you are outside your comfort zone!”

…and they were right.

My next project is HUGE and spectacularly exciting… it is timely, innovative, and will make a huge splash very soon.

For now – I am ‘teasing’ out the details… there are hints in the pictures and words… so watch this space and prepare for the big reveal …

If you can guess what I am about to reveal (if you have not been let into the secret squirrel circle already – behave!) – then I’ll send you a gift.


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Colour Paperback Books Available in Australia

With a signed, personal message.

My books are available at many retailers and online via Amazon.

However, for Australians who would like a paperback copy, shipping from the USA is an added expense.

So, order through me, with the added bonus of a personal message included.

Just send me a FB message on Noel and Jackie’s Journeys or Jackie Parry, send a message via this website, or email me at ckijack@yahoo.com.

The colour pictures and “extraordinary adventures by two ordinary people” make a wonderful Christmas gift.

Of Foreign Build, This Is It, and A Standard Journey (colour paperback) are $19.99 each (+ postage) – just click on the book for more information – and if you’d like a  copy, let me know.

Kindle and audio are available via Amazon.

 

A Standard Journey – Jackie Parry

 

This Is It – Jackie Parry

Cruisers’ AA – $29.99 + postage

Cruisers' AA - Jackie and Noel Parry

Cruisers’ AA – Jackie and Noel Parry

 

 

 

 


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Live Interview – We Love Memoirs

Do you love memoirs?

If you do, you must join the FB group We Love Memoirs, and here’s why:

  1. They are the friendliest group on FB
  2. They regularly have fun competitions with FREEBIES!
  3. There is constant laughter, fun, parties, and jokes posted by lovely people
  4. There’s no self-promotion (authors cannot join just to advertise/market)
  5. The group consists of both authors and many readers
  6. So many recommendations – you will find just the book for you!
  7. Friendship, support, help, and advice (if you’d like it) is freely available
  8. They host weekly Sunday Spotlight LIVE interviews with authors… and…
  9. THIS Sunday it is me!

We Love Memoirs is hosting my live interview this Sunday 1st October

TIME: The interview will start at 6 am AEST. DON’T forget, Aussies, the clocks spring forward Saturday night.

So, it’ll be easy to stop by – Saturday evening for UK/Europe, Saturday afternoon for most parts of the USA, Sunday all day for Aussies… and let’s see what happens.

I’ll take a couple of breaks to care for one of our horses with a cut leg – but that shouldn’t take too long. It’ll give you time to think up some curly questions for me!

Come along and say G’day. You need only join the group and then you can ask me ANYTHING you like, on ANY subject you like! Please share this where you can.

Here are some pictures to whet your appetite…


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A View for Every Occasion

“You’re finally settling down?” Friends are intrigued.

“Well, no. We still travel but on home land, not foreign.” We explain.

I’ve discovered that travel is your mind’s view, not just your eyes’. Our own park-land replaces far-flung cultures. We still explore exotic communities, only this location fits better, like a warm, floppy jumper.

Moorea Island, Pacific Ocean

Moorea Island, Pacific Ocean

Now, the tender whicker from a happy horse saying g’day replaces the mellow swish of parting ocean waves.

The travel-music of boisterous, hull-pounding seas is usurped by sixteen strong hooves thundering against native grasses, feisty back-legs hurled in the air just for the hell of it! Their hoof-beats are my heart-beats.

Before, when watching thick fog roll over the vast plains of salt water to swallow us into its chilly wisps, my shoulders rose up to my ears as I tensed sensing unseen dangers. Now, as the mist claims our valley I calmly ignore the night-time brisk that nips at my extremities, and I witness the white swirls settle as a waterfall would slide into a river.

Mist rolling along our land under a full moon!

Mist rolling along our land under a full moon!

There’s no town illumination to dampen the cosmic display. The clear nights reveal mystifying galaxies that hang above us with such clarity that a sharp intake of breath could draw them in. The blackness is so silent we whisper, fearful that the glass stars may shatter.

Fragrant black coffee wafts through our tiny, temporary home, the steam rising in sync with the morning mist. The tang of sweet smelling grass, earthy mud, sun-cream, grainy horse feed, burning logs, damp socks – are the aromas of fulfillment.

The mileage may be limited, but not my journey or freedom. Seventy acres of undulating heaven needs care, as do we. The steep-hill-exercise will keep us fit and strong long into our dotage. We take care of the land, it takes care of us.

As I take in the surroundings, I notice the vibrant bush fights for supremacy along the ridges and tall trees become custodian to flitting birds; a playground of leafy limbs for our feathery friends.

Proud gums come alive with squawks and chirps. Rainbow lorikeets flash by, flapping fire-red, ocean-blue and deep-sea green; in a pause between the cacophony the Kookaburras cut the stillness with a hearty cackle, are they laughing at us?

The creek hums a lullaby as it roams along pink and grey rocks painting them a shiny black. The clear icy water strays along the sandy bed carving new paths after flood rain, pushing at reeds that wave a farewell.

We’re creating our own travel history on romantic moors and enticing peaks. I’m awash with besotted intrigue – what’s around the next corner? Is that a new tree? Beautiful weeds are classed as noxious. I fight for control pulling, bagging, burning the grasses that want to take over but are not permitted. It’s hard labour that keeps my butt tight with effort, just like the constant moving on a sailboat during our sea voyages.

On the land, marauding wombats scratch cavernous holes under the cover of darkness, leading into a labyrinth of tunnels, like giant rabbit warrens. Beneath the scorching sun, wedged-tailed eagles swoop on air currents, their splendid tableau unique to them. Ants scurry within their mounded battlefields ready to take on a giant human at a moment’s notice.

Evening comes too fast, but we greet her with a cool beer and dirt-smudged faces. My hands feel the stretch of dryness and the sting of cracks, sore muscles remind me that I’ve achieved middle-age, my torn, grubby clothes don’t matter because I wear a bright, satisfied smile.

Fireside beer

Travel changes you. You change while everything back at home stays the same. Here, at our home, there’s a surprising synchronicity – time, place and people are changing together. Noel and I are in harmony. A perfect choir of love.

But as with each journey, my soul is reshaped. I’ve bid farewell to places where I know I’ll miss the people and the lands, but also a part of me because I’ll never be that way again.

I wonder what part of me I’ll leave in which corner of our natural Disneyland. And what new thoughts and outlooks I’ll collect to replace what I’ve left behind; refreshing my layers with a view for every occasion.

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My motto: ‘Be an encourager, there are far too many critics in the world already.’

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