Free image courtesy KoolShooters on Pexels.
This month, (November 2025), is my sixth year of being an indie author. It hasn’t been the easiest of times, as I have suffered from chronic pain for four of those six years, but looking back at it now, I am grateful that I have always used the slow and steady approach. This includes publishing The Ghost at Willow Creek, my first published book, a short story inspired by a grave.
Some years ago, while visiting relations on their property, I encountered an old grave of a six-year-old boy. Apparently, he had drowned in a nearby creek during a flood. This child was no relation of ours, but my cousins had planned on fixing up the grave and taking care of it. Straight away all sorts of questions came to mind. The writer within me thought of the many hardships encountered by our pioneering women and no sooner had I returned home that I was jotting down ideas.
The loss of a child had attracted me, for having two children of my own, I became empathetic to the parents of this unknown child, especially the mother. The history and the landscape drew me in, and as always, my fascination with death and the afterlife. I have always had an interest in graves and cemeteries, often finding inspiration amongst them.
Visiting cemeteries has become second nature to me, after growing up in suburban Sydney, living near the largest cemetery in the Southern Hemisphere. Generations of my mother’s family are buried there, and we would make regular visits.
I find walking alone amongst the graves intriguing. Not only do I find it peaceful, but every one of them has a story to tell.
Free image courtesy KoolShooters on Pexels.
Around the time I was planning my short story, I spent a quiet, misty morning at my local cemetery, surrounded by history; some graves dating as far back as the 1880s. I was surprised by the number of smaller graves – one child died the day they were born, being buried without a name. One grave was of a twelve-year-old girl: another girl dying at eighteen. My curiosity aroused the writer within me. What happened to these children to die so young? How did they die? Who were they? It was all fodder for my story.
It was also around this time that a writing competition came up, and I considered writing a bush poem instead. Before entering, I sought the advice of a local poet. After reading my piece, she suggested that the poem could become a short story. In the back of my mind, I had to agree with this idea because I felt there was more to this story than what could be relayed in a bush poem. In that respect, I was grateful that my poem ultimately, was unsuccessful.
As I wrote my short story, it was not only the death of a young child that got to me, but the effects such a tragic loss would have upon the parents and their marriage. Being a wife and mother, I was following the old writing advice of ‘write what you know’.
When I finished writing the story, I felt all sorts of emotions and believed in it so much that I wanted it published. To be a published author was always my dream, and I knew indie was the way to go. So, in November 2109, I published The Ghost at Willow Creek, a story of love and loss; a story that my husband labelled at the time my best yet. It has since gone on to be highly praised and one of my best sellers.
The dead tell stories. It is up to us to listen.
*This article was published as part of my newsletter, where you can find out more about my writing and current writing projects.
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