When you first think of this word, it is with a slippery slope in mind.
I’ve been on a few of those in my time.
And while we’re on the subject, those inclines measured in degrees are very important if you want a train to get up and down the side of a mountain.
For the train, that’s an incline plane, the point where traction alone won’t get the iron horse up the hill.
Did I say ‘Iron Horse’? Sorry, regressed there, back to the mid-1800s in the American West for a moment.
It’s not that important when it comes to trucks and cars, and less so if you like four-wheel driving; getting up near-vertical mountainsides often present a welcome challenge to the true enthusiast
But for the rest of us, not so much if you find yourself sliding in reverse uncontrollably into the bay. I’m sure it’s happened more than once.
Then…
Are you inclined to go?
A very different sort of incline, ie to be disposed towards an attitude or desire.
An inclination, maybe, not to go four-wheel driving?
There is another, probably more obscure use of the word incline, and that relates to an elevated geological formation. Not the sort of reference that crops up in everyday conversation at the coffee shop.
But, you never know. Try it next time you have coffee and see what happens.
Hang about. Didn’t I read somewhere you need to plan your novel, create an outline setting the plot points, and flesh out the characters?
I’m sure it didn’t say, sit down and start writing!
Time to find a writing pad, and put my thinking cap on.
I make a list, what’s the story going to be about? Who’s going to be in it, at least at the start?
Like a newspaper story, I need a who, what, when, where, and how.
Right now.
I pick up the pen.
Character number one:
Computer nerd, ok, that’s a little close to the bone, a computer manager who is trying to be everything at once, and failing. Still me, but with a twist. Now, add a little mystery to him, and give him a secret, one that will only be revealed after a specific set of circumstance. Yes, I like that.
We’ll call him Bill, ex-regular army, a badly injured and repatriated soldier who was sent to fight a war in Vietnam, the result of which had made him, at times, unfit to live with.
He had a wife, which brings us to,
Character number two:
Ellen, Bill’s ex-wife, an army brat and a General’s daughter, and the result of one of those romances that met disapproval for so many reasons. It worked until Bill came back from the war, and from there it slowly disintegrated. There are two daughters, both by the time the novel begins, old enough to understand the ramifications of a divorce.
Character number three:
The man who is Bill’s immediate superior, the Services Department manager, a rather officious man who blindly follows orders, a man who takes pleasure in making others feel small and insignificant, and worst of all, takes the credit where none is due.
Oops, too much, that is my old boss. He’ll know immediately I’m parodying him. Tone it down, just a little, but more or less that’s him. Last name Benton. He will play a small role in the story.
Character number four:
Jennifer, the IT Department’s assistant manager, a woman who arrives in a shroud of mystery, and then, in time, to provide Bill with a shoulder to cry on when he and Ellen finally split, and perhaps something else later on.
More on her later as the story unfolds.
So far so good.
What’s the plot?
Huge corporation plotting to take over the world using computers? No, that’s been done to death.
Huge corporation, OK, let’s stop blaming the corporate world for everything wrong in the world. Corporations are not bad people, people are the bad people. That’s a rip off cliché, from guns don’t kill people, people kill people! There will be guns, and there will be dead people.
There will be people hiding behind a huge corporation, using a part of their computer network to move billions of illegally gained money around. That’s better.
Now, having got that, our ‘hero’ has to ‘discover’ this network, and the people behind it.
All we need now is to set the ball rolling, a single event that ‘throws a cat among the pigeons’.
Yes, Bill is on holidays, a welcome relief from the problems of work. He dreams of what he’s going to do for the next two weeks. The phone rings. Benton calling, the world is coming to an end, the network is down. He’s needed. A few terse words, but he relents.
It’s not quite a revelation to discover once you turn 70 that your health and well being decreases, sometimes dramatically.
Perhaps someone should write a manual that should be supplied from the moment we can read to tell us what’s going to happen.
And it’s going to happen whether you like it or not; no one is immune. People try to stay young, change diet, regimen, start exercising, rue the day they took up smoking and then rue waiting so long to stop.
If only we had our time over…
Doesn’t work like that. It’s inevitable, sooner or later, it’s going to happen. The aches and pains, not wanting to get out of bed in the morning, everything taking longer to do…
The aging process catches up with you, and not to put too fine a point to it, like a car or appliance, things start to wear out.
It starts with organs like kidneys, livers, hearts, lungs, you know, those organs you kind of need to keep living. When you’re young, you don’t think about it, and throw caution and common sense to the seven winds.
After all, who wants to live a boring life? And we have to try everything at least once. After all, what doesn’t kill you…
Well, if only we had that manual, with that one word that no one wants to see, consequences, in very large red letters.
So…
Here we are.
Over 70, and the only way is down.
I have psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis. It took several specialists to get to the right treatment, the first more interested in stringing me along and charging exorbitant fees, to a doctor who took basically one visit to find and start fixing the problem.
It shattered my belief in the medical profession to the point where I don’t and never will fully trust any specialist.
But aside from that, I have the miracle drug Humira that has made my life so much better, but inevitably, drugs can only do so much, and the symptoms are sneaking back.
That’s expected.
It’s the other problems that are making an audience of themselves, such as the back pain, which is not operable, it will only make it worse, joint pains, which pain killers alleviate to the point of bearability.
The cramps and the side effects from other pills like methotrexate and nerve pain remedies, which I now realise I can’t take, at least not with the hallucinations.
I can live with all of that.
But then, out of left field comes the big one.
It’s the new problem, the one all men will suffer at some point.
That pesky thing called a prostate.
It’s not true, no matter how you look at it, that it sneaks up on you. There are symptoms, plain as day, but these you tend to overlook, because you don’t want to think that something is wrong.
We blame old age; we tell ourselves that it’s just part of the process.
Then my older brother rings and tells me he has stage one prostate cancer.
Just the sort of news you need to start your day.
He’s three years older than I am.
Then, in the same week, your younger brother, 6 years younger, is messaging that he had an enlarged prostate.
What the hell does that mean?
In reality, it means run like hell to your doctor and admit the probabilities of you having a similar problem are very high.
I ran.
So this is how it unfolds…
A urine and PSA test. The PSA tests are basically a crap shoot, but it’s a start. Bad news, the PSA level is high.
Enough together me kicked to a specialist.
The anti-specialist fears kick in, and now I have to worry not only about the disease but also the medical profession.
I get an appointment, and just for the first consultation, the fee is eye-watering, with little recompense from the medical insurance.
You can see me drawing similarities with previous experience, seeing a cashed-up retired person willing to spend any amount to survive an extra week.
You read about old people being ripped off every day. Why should the medical profession be any different, with such a large, largely untapped gold mine called gullible old people?
So…
A brief consultation that leads to an MRI. It’s free on the back of two PSA tests showing high numbers within a certain period. I have to wait a few weeks to fulfil the criteria.
I get the MRI.
The scans show a shadow on film, telling us that something ‘suspicious’ needed to be checked, so the next step is a TP biopsy.
Not good news. Not a fun time at the hospital.
And before you can say abracadabra its arranged. Hospital, day surgery, doctor, anaesthetist, and a sheet that tells you about everything that can go wrong.
At least it was not on the back of another huge consultation fee, and the necessity to mortgage the house.
But there are non-refundable fees for the doctor, the hospital, and the anesthesiologist, with no change out of a thousand dollars. For someone like me, that’s a lot of money just to get a possible death sentence, or worse, a lead in to a treatment that may or may not work, one that will destroy us financially.
Is it worth it?
In my opinion, no. Others have differing opinions, but that has a lot to do with the idea of having to live without someone you’ve spent most of your life with.
Cancer, if it is, and aggressive as they all seem to be these days, is a sentence, not a word, with far-reaching and devastating consequences.
It’s not going to be an easy subject to discuss, and the anticipation is almost as bad as getting the news, good or bad.
Chasing Whispers: How to Capture Those Fleeting Creative Sparks
The muse, as they say, is a fickle thing. For writers, she often strikes at the most inconvenient – or, conversely, the most mundane – moments. For me, it’s a constant game of digital and analog catch-up, a mad dash to pin down those ethereal wisps of inspiration before they dissipate into the ether.
My current arsenal? A trusty electronic notebook on my smartphone, and a small army of writing pads strategically placed around my home office. The moment an idea sparks – whether it’s a perfectly crafted piece of dialogue playing out in my head or the nascent outline of a new plot – I scramble to capture it. My go-to digital tool is SomNote. Its beauty lies in its accessibility; I can jot down notes on the go, and then seamlessly transfer them to my computer for further development. It’s incredibly convenient, especially when inspiration strikes during my commute or while I’m out and about.
Of course, there are limitations. My smartphone, as advanced as it is, isn’t quite shower-proof… yet. While I might be able to wait a few minutes for a particularly steamy revelation to cool down, the reality is that these ideas can be incredibly vivid and urgent. I’ve lost entire conversations, perfectly formed in my mind, simply because I couldn’t get them down on paper fast enough. It’s a frustrating experience, like watching a precious butterfly slip through your fingers.
This urgency has me contemplating more drastic measures. A whiteboard on the wall, a permanent marker in hand… is that going too far? Perhaps. But the desire to have an immediate, unhindered outlet for these rapid-fire thoughts is a powerful one.
It reminds me of a gift I received years ago: a portable tape recorder. It was a compact device, with tiny tapes, and it was voice-activated. The promise was simple: speak your ideas, and they’d be captured. This, in itself, sparked a flurry of creative thoughts! I did use it, but I also discovered a rather peculiar side effect. Having conversations with myself in the car, or while walking down the street, drew some undeniably curious stares. More importantly, listening back to those recorded “conversations” was… eye-opening. It highlighted how often our internal dialogue doesn’t quite translate to reality, and how much of what we think sounds brilliant in our heads can sound rather… less so, when replayed. This experience, however, was invaluable. It taught me to listen critically to my own thoughts, to refine them, and to recognize when an idea, spoken aloud, just didn’t hold up.
Ideas, I’ve learned, are everywhere. They bubble up in the shower, they emerge while driving, they sneak into my thoughts while I’m engrossed in a newspaper or a good book. This leads me to a fundamental truth I learned early on, a piece of wisdom shared by a more seasoned author: writers must read. And not just within their chosen genre. Reference books are essential, and a deep dive into the classics – be it Old English or American literature – is crucial for appreciating the sheer majesty of the English language. While we might not emulate those styles directly, understanding their power and beauty enriches our own craft.
That author was a wellspring of knowledge, though at the time, I was too eager, too convinced of my own nascent talent, to fully grasp it. It took years before I felt confident enough to share my writing. And even now, I don’t claim to possess a complete mastery of the language. My passion for English, creative writing, and literature in university was real, but the depth of that absorption is something I continue to explore. Ultimately, the goal is clear communication. If a reader understands the journey of the story and feels a sense of satisfaction at its conclusion – a feeling of having had “a good read” – then the author’s work is done.
The perennial challenge, of course, is the next idea. And the one after that. It’s said that everyone has at least one book within them. For those who can conjure more, well, that’s a gift beyond measure. My personal predicament is quite the opposite of scarcity: I’m drowning in ideas, with a graveyard of beginnings and half-formed outlines. So many stories clamoring for attention, so many worlds waiting to be built. It’s a delightful problem to have, wouldn’t you agree? Being spoiled for choice – that’s the writer’s ultimate sweet spot.
Weaving Reality into Fiction: Should You Use Real History and Figures in Your Epic Book Series?
If you are currently staring at a blinking cursor, mapping out the architecture of an endless series of novels, you aren’t alone. Writing a multi-book saga is a monumental undertaking. You have to sustain character arcs, invent subplots that don’t feel like filler, and—most importantly—build a world that feels lived-in and real.
One of the most powerful tools in a long-form author’s arsenal is the integration of actual history, real-world locations, historical figures, and authentic organisations.
When working on an endless series, is it a good idea to anchor your fiction in factual reality? The short answer is: Yes, absolutely. But like any powerful narrative tool, it requires a delicate touch. Let’s explore why blending fact with fiction works so well, the pitfalls to avoid, and how to do it effectively to hook your readers for the long haul.
Why Real-World History Adds Authenticity to Long Series
When readers commit to a sprawling book series (think of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire or Bernard Cornwell’s The Saxon Stories), they are looking for immersion. They want to escape, but they also want the world to obey internal logic and historical weight. Here is why injecting real history helps:
1. It Provides a Built-In Foundation
Inventing a sociopolitical system, economic structure, and cultural norms from scratch for a massive universe is exhausting. By drawing inspiration from—or directly utilising—actual historical periods, you save mental bandwidth. Real history gives you tried-and-true templates for warfare, political intrigue, religious conflicts, and technological limitations.
2. It Instantly Grounds the Reader
If your characters walk down a muddy, cobblestone street in a fictionalised version of 17th-century London, mention a real tavern that existed at the time, or interact with a lesser-known historical diplomat, the world immediately snaps into focus. Real-world anchors allow readers to visualise the scene faster because they have cognitive shortcuts to draw from.
3. It Adds Gravitas and Stakes
Real history is messy, brutal, and unpredictable. When fictional characters collide with real historical events (like a devastating plague, a sudden coup, or the eruption of a volcano), the stakes instantly skyrocket. Readers know that in real life, not everyone survives, which adds genuine peril to your endless series.
How to Use Real Elements Without Turning Your Novel into a Textbook
The biggest danger of using real history, places, and people in fiction is infodumping. You’ve spent hours down a Wikipedia rabbit hole researching the 14th-century wool trade, and now you want to make sure your reader knows it.
Don’t.
Here are four golden rules for balancing fact and fiction in a long-running series:
Rule 1: Use Real Places as a Canvas, Not a Blueprint
Whether you are writing urban fantasy, historical fiction, or sci-fi set on Earth, treat real locations as mood boards. If you are setting scenes in an actual cathedral or a specific street, focus on sensory details—the chill of the stone, the smell of coal smoke, the echo of footsteps—rather than giving a geographical lecture.
Rule 2: Bend Historical Figures to Fit Your Narrative Arc
When introducing real individuals, remember that you are writing a story, not a biography. If a real-world general needs to arrive a week early to fit your plot’s pacing, or if a monarch needs to display a personality trait that drives your protagonist crazy, take creative liberties. Just make sure the core essence of the historical figure remains recognisable if they are well-known.
Rule 3: Leverage Real Organizations for Conflict
Secret societies, trade guilds, religious orders, and military units that actually existed (or closely mirror historical ones) add instant legitimacy to your world. When your characters go up against a bureaucracy modelled after the Roman Senate or a merchant guild modelled after the Hanseatic League, the conflict feels sophisticated and institutional, rather than cartoonish.
Rule 4: Leave Room for the Unknown
History is full of gaps, lost artifacts, and unsolved mysteries. This is a fiction writer’s playground. Take a real historical anomaly—the Voynich manuscript, the disappearance of the Princes in the Tower, or Roanoke Colony—and build your fictional mythology into the historical blind spots.
The Secret Weapon for Endless Series: Continuity
If you are writing a long series, continuity is your greatest challenge. One of the hidden benefits of using real history, geography, and organisations is that history doesn’t change.
If you invent a purely fictional political system across ten books, you run the risk of contradicting yourself regarding laws, geography, or cultural customs. But if you tether your world to real-world historical constraints (e.g., how fast a horse can travel in the winter of 1240, or the actual political friction between the Pope and the Holy Roman Emperor), reality does half of the world-building heavy lifting for you. You have a built-in encyclopedia that your readers might already be familiar with!
Final Verdict: Strike the Balance
Blending actual history, real individuals, and authentic organisations into an endless series of novels is a masterclass in world-building. It rewards curious readers, grounds fantastical or sprawling plots, and lends an undeniable weight of authenticity to your pages.
Just remember: You are writing a story, not a history lesson. Use the facts as stepping stones to spark your imagination, not as chains that restrict your creativity. When history and imagination collide on the page, that’s where the real magic happens.
Are you currently working on a long book series? Do you prefer total invention or historical grounding? Let us know your thoughts and writing struggles in the comments below!
Discover Melbourne’s Hidden Gems: Top 5 Tourist Attractions That Are Peaceful and Unique
Melbourne is renowned for its vibrant arts scene, bustling laneways, and iconic landmarks. However, beyond the well-trodden paths lie lesser-known attractions that offer a tranquil, culturally rich, and often underappreciated experience. If you’re seeking a slower, more intimate journey through the city’s history, art, and natural beauty, here are five top attractions that are rarely crowded but packed with distinctive charm.
1. Shrine of Remembrance: A Historic Sanctuary with Breathtaking Views
Tucked away in a serene parkland setting on the edge of the city, the Shrine of Remembrance stands as a majestic tribute to Australian service members. The neoclassical architecture is awe-inspiring, and the 360-degree views from the terrace—especially at dusk—are unforgettable. While not as flashy as Federation Square or Luna Park, the shrine attracts fewer crowds, especially outside of Anzac Day (April 25). Its quiet ambience makes it perfect for reflection, photography, or simply soaking in Melbourne’s skyline.
Why it’s unique: Open 24/7 and free to enter, it blends architectural grandeur with historical significance. The building’s underground war memorial and gardens are particularly poignant.
2. Museum of Chinese Australian History: A Window into a Rich Cultural Legacy
Step into the vibrant history of Melbourne’s Chinese community at the Museum of Chinese Australian History, housed in a former tram depot in the bustling district of Docklands. This small museum offers interactive exhibits on the contributions of Chinese Australians to the city’s development, from the 19th-century gold rush to modern multiculturalism. The building itself is a work of art, adorned with colourful mosaics and sculptural installations.
Why it’s unique: The museum’s focus on a specific cultural narrative is rare in mainstream Melbourne. Its blend of art, history, and community stories makes it a must-visit for curious travellers.
3. Burnley Park and Gardens: A Hidden Green Escape
Just minutes from the CBD in the suburb of Carlton, Burnley Park is a tranquil oasis with a mix of natural beauty and cultural flair. Home to the historic Burnley Cricket Ground and a lush landscape of gardens, it’s a favourite among locals for picnics and strolls. The park’s lesser-known status means it’s rarely bustled with tourists, offering a peaceful retreat.
Why it’s unique: The park combines recreational spaces with a quirky cricket history—the Burnley Cricket Club, established in 1852, is the oldest surviving cricket club in Victoria. Springtime brings spectacular displays of wisteria and wildflowers.
4. Royal Exhibition Building & Royal Botanic Gardens (Off-Peak Hours)
While the Royal Botanic Gardens can get busy on weekends, visiting during weekdays or early mornings ensures a quieter, more immersive experience. Adjacent to the Royal Exhibition Building, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the area is an architectural and horticultural marvel. The building’s grand Victorian design and the gardens’ curated collections—including the iconic Coachwood Tree—make for a captivating stop.
Why it’s unique: This combination of history and natural beauty is unmatched. The building’s iconic dome and the gardens’ serene paths create a timeless atmosphere, especially enchanting during autumn.
5. Koorie Heritage Trust: A Deep Dive into Indigenous Culture
The Koorie Heritage Trust in the heart of Melbourne is a cultural powerhouse dedicated to preserving and sharing the stories of Australia’s First Nations people. Through art, artifacts, and guided workshops, visitors gain insight into Yarning (storytelling), traditional crafts, and the enduring connection to Country.
Why it’s unique: Small and intentionally quiet, the trust focuses on meaningful, educational experiences. Bookings are recommended, as spaces are limited, but this ensures a personalised and respectful visit.
Why These Spots Thrive in Quietness
These attractions stand out because they cater to niche interests and require a bit of effort to discover—a perfect fit for travellers who prefer depth over crowds. Whether you’re captivated by history, culture, or nature, Melbourne’s hidden gems offer a fresh perspective on this dynamic city.
Final Thoughts: Embrace Melbourne’s Understated Magic
Melbourne’s charm isn’t just in its famous laneways and coffee. By straying from the typical itineraries, you’ll uncover a side of the city that’s reflective, artistic, and deeply human. Whether you’re tracing your roots, enjoying a peaceful garden, or honouring a cultural past, these attractions promise a memorable trip without the hassle. Pack your curiosity—and a camera—and let Melbourne surprise you.
Pro Tip: For the most peaceful experience, visit these spots on weekdays or during the cooler months (May–August). Plus, check out event calendars for exclusive workshops or seasonal openings!
What’s your favourite hidden corner of Melbourne? Share your discoveries in the comments below!
Of course, we all know this word is a colour, or colour depending on where you live. You know, blue sky, deep blue sea, blonde hair, blue eyes.
Very descriptive.
But it can also mean you are down in the dumps, a rather strange, for some, expression that means you are sad or unhappy.
For others, to have a blue means to have a fight with someone
And oddly, and I know this from first-hand experience, a red-haired person will be called bluey, or, less pleasing, either carrot top or blood nut. I used to ignore those people who used those expressions, except for my father-in-law.
You can do something until you are blue in the face, which means doing it without result until exhaustion; another way of saying you’re wasting your time.
And if something comes out of the blue, it’s usually entirely unexpected. For me, that’s always a bill I wasn’t expecting; for someone else, an inheritance.
And in some parts of the world, blue is used as a synonym for a conservative political party; for instance, the Liberal Party in Australia and the Democrats in the United States
Blue should not be confused with the word blew, which is the past tense of blow, which is wind causing an air current or blowing air through pursed lips.
That doesn’t mean that if something blew up it was just a giant air mass exploding because it can’t. If a bomb blew up, it means it detonated.
And if that sounds complicated:
What if something blew my mind? Does that mean my head exploded? No, it just means it’s incomprehensible, whether good or bad.
Or
What if I blew a fortune on a three-legged horse? We all throw good money after bad, but you can quickly lose a fortune, or lose it.
It’s the same thing with opportunities; for instance, he had a chance and blew it. Yes, obviously something better came along; no, or he just ignored a sterling opportunity.
This story has been ongoing since I was seventeen, and just to let you know, I’m 72 this year.
Yes, it’s taken a long time to get it done.
Why, you might ask.
Well, I never gave it much interest because I started writing it after a small incident when I was 17, and working as a book packer for a book distributor in Melbourne
At the end of my first year, at Christmas, the employer had a Christmas party, and that year, it was at a venue in St Kilda.
I wasn’t going to go because at that age, I was an ordinary boy who was very introverted and basically scared of his own shadow and terrified by girls.
Back then, I would cross the street to avoid them
Also, other members of the staff in the shipping department were rough and ready types who were not backwards in telling me what happened, and being naive, perhaps they knew I’d be either shocked or intrigued.
I was both adamant I wasn’t coming and then got roped in on a dare.
Damn!
So, back then, in the early 70s, people looked the other way when it came to drinking, and of course, Dutch courage always takes away the concerns, especially when normally you wouldn’t do half the stuff you wouldn’t in a million years
I made it to the end, not as drunk and stupid as I thought I might be, and St Kilda being a salacious place if you knew where to look, my new friends decided to give me a surprise.
It didn’t take long to realise these men were ‘men about town’ as they kept saying, and we went on an odyssey. Yes, those backstreet brothels where one could, I was told, have anything they could imagine.
Let me tell you, large quantities of alcohol and imagination were a very bad mix.
So, the odyssey in ‘The things we do’ was based on that, and then the encounter with Diana. Well, let’s just say I learned a great deal about girls that night.
Firstly, not all girls are nasty and spiteful, which seemed to be the case whenever I met one. There was a way to approach, greet, talk to, and behave.
It was also true that I could have had anything I wanted, but I decided what was in my imagination could stay there. She was amused that all I wanted was to talk, but it was my money, and I could spend it how I liked.
And like any 17-year-old naive fool, I fell in love with her and had all these foolish notions. Months later, I went back, but she had moved on, to where no one was saying or knew.
Needless to say, I was heartbroken and had to get over that first loss, which, like any 17-year-old, was like the end of the world.
But it was the best hour I’d ever spent in my life and would remain so until I met the woman I have been married to for the last 48 years.
As Henry, he was in part based on a rebel, the son of rich parents who despised them and their wealth, and he used to regale anyone who would listen about how they had messed up his life
If only I’d come from such a background!
And yes, I was only a run away from climbing up the stairs to get on board a ship, acting as a purser.
I worked for a shipping company and they gave their junior staff members an opportunity to spend a year at sea working as a purser on a cargo ship that sailed between Melbourne, Sydney and Hobart in Australia.
One of the other junior staff members’ turn came, and I would visit him on board when he would tell me stories about life on board, the officers, the crew, and other events. These stories, which sounded incredible to someone so impressionable, were a delight to hear.
Alas, by that time, I had tired of office work and moved on to be a tradesman at the place where my father worked.
It proved to be the right move, as that is where I met my wife. Diana had been right; love would find me when I least expected it.
Discover Hobart’s Hidden Gems: Top 5 Tourist Attractions That Aren’t Crowded but Still Captivating
Hobart, Tasmania’s capital, is best known for its vibrant arts scene, stunning natural landscapes, and iconic attractions like Salamanca Place and MONA. But for travellers craving a quieter, more introspective experience—yet still rich in culture and charm—Hobart offers a treasure trove of lesser-known spots. These hidden gems are often overlooked by crowds but brim with unique stories, history, and beauty. Here are five must-visit attractions that will give you a fresh perspective on this coastal city.
1. Battery Point: A Glimpse into Hobart’s Colonial Heart
Tucked on the northern shore of the Derwent River, Battery Point is a charming historic suburb that feels more like a sleepy local neighbourhood than a tourist hotspot. Here, you’ll find well-preserved Federation-era homes (late 1800s) now converted into cozy cafes, galleries, and boutique shops. Stroll through the cobblestone streets, admire the convict-built wharves, and enjoy waterfront views of the bustling Salamanca Wharf.
Why It’s Special: Battery Point is a vibrant, community-focused area where history and modernity blend seamlessly. Its peaceful atmosphere and local vibe make it perfect for a leisurely afternoon. Pro Tip: Visit on a weekday for a more relaxed experience, and don’t miss Battery Point’s famous Sunday markets for fresh produce and handmade crafts.
2. Mawson’s Hut Replica at Kingston
A few kilometres east of Hobart, the Mawson’s Hut Replica at Kingston offers a fascinating slice of Antarctic history. Built by Sir Douglas Mawson, an Australian explorer of Antarctica, this replica of his original 1911 hut now serves as a museum showcasing his daring expeditions to the frozen continent. The original hut is still preserved in Commonwealth Bay, while this one houses artifacts and interactive exhibits.
Why It’s Special: This is Tasmania’s unique contribution to polar exploration. While small in scale, the museum is packed with gripping stories and rare artifacts, making it a niche but powerful experience. Pro Tip: Combine your visit with a scenic walk around Kingston Bay, where you can spot penguins and enjoy views of the Storm Bay.
3. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG)
Nestled in the heart of Hobart, TMAG is a cultural hub that often flies under the radar. Its eclectic mix of exhibitions ranges from Aboriginal art and natural history to Victorian scientific instruments and contemporary Tasmanian art. The building itself—a former courthouse with a dramatic red-brick façade—is a masterpiece.
Why It’s Special: TMAG offers depth and diversity without the crowds. Its rotating exhibitions ensure there’s always something new to discover, whether you’re a history buff or an art lover. Pro Tip: Check the calendar for special events and exhibitions, such as their popular Dark Mofo winter festivals.
4. Hobart Rivulet: A River of Stories and Art
Once an industrial channel, the Hobart Rivulet has been transformed into a vibrant urban space. The revitalised area now features interactive art installations, public sculptures, and walkways that trace the river’s path through the city. It’s a great place to reflect on Hobart’s past while appreciating its creative present.
Why It’s Special: The Rivulet is a living museum of art and history. From the quirky Sculpture by the Rivulet collection to historic convict-era buildings like the old Hobart Gaol, there’s plenty to explore. Pro Tip: Visit at sunset for a magical view of the river, or join a guided walk to delve into its industrial and Indigenous heritage.
5. Cascades Female Factory: A Haunting Chapter of Convict History
In South Hobart, the Cascades Female Factory stands as a poignant reminder of Tasmania’s convict past. This UNESCO World Heritage Site once housed nearly 12,000 women transported to Tasmania. Today, it’s a museum that tells their stories through interactive displays, preserved buildings, and audio-visual guides.
Why It’s Special: Unlike the bustling convict sites at Port Arthur (which is further out), the Cascades Female Factory offers a more intimate and reflective experience. Its focus on the experiences of Indigenous and convict women is deeply moving and educational. Pro Tip: Take a guided tour to uncover lesser-known stories and get a personal connection to this significant site.
Why These Places Are Perfect for the Discerning Traveller
These attractions stand out not only for their historical and cultural value but also for their ability to offer a peaceful, off-the-beaten-path experience. They’re ideal for travellers who want to avoid the usual tourist throngs while still connecting with Tasmania’s rich heritage and creativity.
How to Visit:
Plan your trip during weekdays or shoulder seasons (spring/fall) for the fewest crowds.
Use Hobart’s bike paths or rent a car for easy access to nearby spots like Kingston and South Hobart.
Pack a picnic and linger longer at these less-visited sites—they’re perfect for slowing down and savouring the moment.
Final Thoughts Hobart is more than its famous landmarks—it’s a city of hidden stories waiting to be uncovered. Whether you’re exploring the stately homes of Battery Point or reflecting on the resilience of convict women at Cascades, these attractions offer a deeper, more personal connection to Tasmania. So next time you’re in Hobart, trade the well-trodden path for these quiet, captivating gems and discover why the best experiences sometimes lie in the unexpected.
Have you visited any of these hidden spots in Hobart? Share your favourite underrated destination in the comments below!
Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
We met the Blaines at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaines frequently visited and had recommended.
Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’. It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.
It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over. It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.
Aside from the half-frown, half-smile, Alison was looking stunning. It had been months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary. On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to. She had adored it and me, for a week or so after.
For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.
She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars get on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds of silence, and many more gasps.
I even had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room. Once more, I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me. Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others out there who were more appealing.
Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight. She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.
More than once, I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”
Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together. It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement. Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.
The battle lines were drawn.
Jimmy was looking fashionable, with a permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and a designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it. Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.
The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out, she had straightened it. And took the moment to look deeply into my soul. It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.
Then it was gone.
I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me. A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.
When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.” It was not a question, but a statement.
I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’, but I accepted it with good grace. Sometimes, Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand. I guessed she was talking about the new job. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
She smiled widely. “There are no secrets between Al and me, are there, Al?”
I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.
I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al. I tried it once and was admonished. But it was interesting that her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not. It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.
Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil. As I understood it, the Blaines were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in. I didn’t ask if the Blaines thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.
And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realised I was looking at both of them. I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand. And yet, apparently, Alison did. I must have missed the memo.
“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”
No secrets. Her look conveyed something else entirely.
The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us. It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me. We were going to need it.
Then, a toast.
To a new job and a new life.
“When did you decide?” Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.
Alison had a strange expression on her face. It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind. Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.
Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realised it would be churlish, even silly, if I made a scene. I knew what I wanted to say. I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine or upsetting Alison. This was not the time or the place. Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.
Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing. If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decided there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control. “It’s the little things. They all add up until one day …” I shrugged. “I guess that one day was today.”
I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real? Or, I told you he’d come around.
I had no idea the two were so close.
“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me. I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points. It was all I could come up with at short notice.
“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted. “Alison was off to get some studying in with one of her friends.”
“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up and immediately got the ‘shut up, you fool’ look that cut that line of conversation dead. Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.
It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose. Care to join me, Al?”
A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend. “Yes.”
I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation. I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.
I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.
There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show. I was quite literally gob-smacked.
I drained my champagne glass, gathering some courage and turned to him. “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up. You know Alison is doing her law degree.”
He looked startled when he realised I had spoken. He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed. Or perhaps it was deliberate. She’d definitely had some enhancements done.
He dragged his eyes back to me. “Yes. Elaine said something or other about it. But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week. Perhaps I got it wrong. I usually do.”
“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.” I shrugged as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again. “This week or next, what does it matter?”
Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart. It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; she might have been telling me lies. If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?
We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”
“Trouble, I suspect. Definitely more money, but less time at home.”
“Oh,” raised eyebrows. Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details. “You sure you want to do that?”
At last, the voice of reason. “Me? No.”
“Yet you accepted the job.”
I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him. Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him. “Jimmy, between you and me, I haven’t as yet decided one way or another. To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”
“Barclay?”
“My boss.”
“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay who recently moved into the tower a block down from us. I thought I recognised the name.”
“How did Elaine get the job?”
“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”
“When?”
“A couple of months ago. Why?”
I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker. I felt sick, faint, and wanted to die all at the same moment. “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time. Too busy with work, I expect. I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”
I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted, and I knew I had to keep it together. I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down. I sucked in some deep breaths and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.
And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown. Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”
Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth. It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction. It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.
When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and me. I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, but it didn’t matter. If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact that I took over the dining engagement did. She knew well enough that the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket. She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.
But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points. Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine. She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.
Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly. I chose to ignore her and pretend nothing had happened, rather than tell her how much I was enjoying the evening.
She had her ‘secrets’. I had mine.
At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent-up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me. It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, that Jimmy came looking for me. I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse. When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was, but neither made any comment.
It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which, to a large degree, it was for the other three. But I had achieved what I set out to do: to play them at their own game, watching the deception once I knew there was one, as warily as a cat watches its prey.
I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree. It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.
We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaines back to the Upper West Side. But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer. She showed concern for my health and asked me what was wrong. It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.
She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it. Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.
And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.
It left me confused and lost.
I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.
And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.
Weaving Reality into Fiction: Should You Use Real History and Figures in Your Epic Book Series?
If you are currently staring at a blinking cursor, mapping out the architecture of an endless series of novels, you aren’t alone. Writing a multi-book saga is a monumental undertaking. You have to sustain character arcs, invent subplots that don’t feel like filler, and—most importantly—build a world that feels lived-in and real.
One of the most powerful tools in a long-form author’s arsenal is the integration of actual history, real-world locations, historical figures, and authentic organisations.
When working on an endless series, is it a good idea to anchor your fiction in factual reality? The short answer is: Yes, absolutely. But like any powerful narrative tool, it requires a delicate touch. Let’s explore why blending fact with fiction works so well, the pitfalls to avoid, and how to do it effectively to hook your readers for the long haul.
Why Real-World History Adds Authenticity to Long Series
When readers commit to a sprawling book series (think of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire or Bernard Cornwell’s The Saxon Stories), they are looking for immersion. They want to escape, but they also want the world to obey internal logic and historical weight. Here is why injecting real history helps:
1. It Provides a Built-In Foundation
Inventing a sociopolitical system, economic structure, and cultural norms from scratch for a massive universe is exhausting. By drawing inspiration from—or directly utilising—actual historical periods, you save mental bandwidth. Real history gives you tried-and-true templates for warfare, political intrigue, religious conflicts, and technological limitations.
2. It Instantly Grounds the Reader
If your characters walk down a muddy, cobblestone street in a fictionalised version of 17th-century London, mention a real tavern that existed at the time, or interact with a lesser-known historical diplomat, the world immediately snaps into focus. Real-world anchors allow readers to visualise the scene faster because they have cognitive shortcuts to draw from.
3. It Adds Gravitas and Stakes
Real history is messy, brutal, and unpredictable. When fictional characters collide with real historical events (like a devastating plague, a sudden coup, or the eruption of a volcano), the stakes instantly skyrocket. Readers know that in real life, not everyone survives, which adds genuine peril to your endless series.
How to Use Real Elements Without Turning Your Novel into a Textbook
The biggest danger of using real history, places, and people in fiction is infodumping. You’ve spent hours down a Wikipedia rabbit hole researching the 14th-century wool trade, and now you want to make sure your reader knows it.
Don’t.
Here are four golden rules for balancing fact and fiction in a long-running series:
Rule 1: Use Real Places as a Canvas, Not a Blueprint
Whether you are writing urban fantasy, historical fiction, or sci-fi set on Earth, treat real locations as mood boards. If you are setting scenes in an actual cathedral or a specific street, focus on sensory details—the chill of the stone, the smell of coal smoke, the echo of footsteps—rather than giving a geographical lecture.
Rule 2: Bend Historical Figures to Fit Your Narrative Arc
When introducing real individuals, remember that you are writing a story, not a biography. If a real-world general needs to arrive a week early to fit your plot’s pacing, or if a monarch needs to display a personality trait that drives your protagonist crazy, take creative liberties. Just make sure the core essence of the historical figure remains recognisable if they are well-known.
Rule 3: Leverage Real Organizations for Conflict
Secret societies, trade guilds, religious orders, and military units that actually existed (or closely mirror historical ones) add instant legitimacy to your world. When your characters go up against a bureaucracy modelled after the Roman Senate or a merchant guild modelled after the Hanseatic League, the conflict feels sophisticated and institutional, rather than cartoonish.
Rule 4: Leave Room for the Unknown
History is full of gaps, lost artifacts, and unsolved mysteries. This is a fiction writer’s playground. Take a real historical anomaly—the Voynich manuscript, the disappearance of the Princes in the Tower, or Roanoke Colony—and build your fictional mythology into the historical blind spots.
The Secret Weapon for Endless Series: Continuity
If you are writing a long series, continuity is your greatest challenge. One of the hidden benefits of using real history, geography, and organisations is that history doesn’t change.
If you invent a purely fictional political system across ten books, you run the risk of contradicting yourself regarding laws, geography, or cultural customs. But if you tether your world to real-world historical constraints (e.g., how fast a horse can travel in the winter of 1240, or the actual political friction between the Pope and the Holy Roman Emperor), reality does half of the world-building heavy lifting for you. You have a built-in encyclopedia that your readers might already be familiar with!
Final Verdict: Strike the Balance
Blending actual history, real individuals, and authentic organisations into an endless series of novels is a masterclass in world-building. It rewards curious readers, grounds fantastical or sprawling plots, and lends an undeniable weight of authenticity to your pages.
Just remember: You are writing a story, not a history lesson. Use the facts as stepping stones to spark your imagination, not as chains that restrict your creativity. When history and imagination collide on the page, that’s where the real magic happens.
Are you currently working on a long book series? Do you prefer total invention or historical grounding? Let us know your thoughts and writing struggles in the comments below!
How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect them.
In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.
I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.
Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half-brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.
There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.
Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.
It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.
For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.
It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 