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Q&a Catherine Gildiner

CATHERINE GILDINER, author of the award- winning best-seller, Too Close To The Falls – A Memoir (Flamingo $21.95), which has been selected as the Great Read in the March issue of The Australian Women’s Weekly.

A touching and hilarious story, set in the 1950s in a small town, near Niagara Falls. Catherine is a wild child, who does 360 degree loops over swings and has to be rescued by cherry-pickers from tree-tops. Her pharmacist father decides work is the answer and has the four-year-old help Roy deliver prescriptions. Catherine rides around the countryside having some very big adventures which include getting lost in a snow storm, learning to gamble and meeting Marilyn Monroe. Catherine’s mother, who never cooks (so they eat out at restaurants every night) is just one in a parade of wonderful characters in a book you want to re-read the moment you’ve finished it.

Don’t miss it.

**Q. Your book made me laugh so much I cried.

A.** Really? Well, that’s just great! I didn’t know it was funny when I wrote it – isn’t that ridiculous? Talk about a writer not being on top of her work! When I first read the review in the Toronto newspaper that said it was funny, I thought,‘Oh my God – that’s like Mother Agnese (my teacher) said – they’re laughing at me and not with me.’

**Q. The bit where you’re being assessed by the psychiatrist is particularly funny.

A.** What is amazing about the psychiatrist, Dr Small, is that when I went to Lewiston, the town where the book is set, to give a talk, he came. He has since passed away – he was about 80 years old – and he was very nice. He brought me all the tests I’d done and held them up. But he had one huge complaint. He said he was very angry only about one thing, that I had called him puny. Everybody started to laugh because he is about five foot five … a tiny little New Yorker, right? He was just enraged.

**Q. I loved your efforts to try to second guess him during the tests.

A.** All I wanted to do was appear sane. That was my only purpose. Dr Small couldn’t believe that I’d remembered so much detail. I told him I thought my sanity was dependent on it, on each thing that I said, so naturally I remembered it.

**Q. Is it true you thought you had a normal childhood until others read your book?

A.** Yes! I thought I had a totally normal childhood. How it happened was, I invited my neighbour Helen, who is a writer and a painter, to join me when I went back to Lewiston for a school reunion. She said she’d like to go so she could do some painting in Niagara Falls. I warned her that it would be really boring, but she wanted to come anyway. On the way back to Toronto she didn’t say one word. “Why are you so quiet?” I asked her. She said she was completely blown away. We got there and everyone, like the whole town, talked about this guy named Roy. And that you rode around with him from early morning until late at night! And when you went to the general store people talked about how you drove the car when you were little, sitting on pillows. I said, ’Well, everybody drives in a small town.’ And she said, ‘What about how you smoked cigarettes when you were like a little kid?’ I said, ‘Well, everybody has the occasional cigarette!’ I honestly had no idea how different my childhood was.

And she mentioned that people talked about how my mother never made a meal. How we had no food in our house. I said, ‘Restaurants are full of people, Helen.’ She said, ‘But they’re not the same people every night, they’re different people.’ Helen’s like my mother’s age, and she just thought it was so strange. I said, ‘Well, I don’t think it’s the least bit unusual.’

Helen said everyone talked about Roy in such an amazing way, why don’t you just write up the story about when you went to his place overnight? So I wrote that one story up and I sent it to a publisher on Friday and Monday, I got back an advance! With a yellow post-it – typical loquacious Canadian style – which said, ‘Finish it.’

**Q. What a great response for you.

A.** Yes! But then I had to write the rest of the book! So only when the reviews came out did I realise my childhood was unusual. I think everyone thinks their childhood is normal. And it wasn’t unhappy. I thought it was apple pie/motherhood sort of thing, because my parents never had a fight! I thought, ‘Who wants to read about that?’

**Q. You enjoyed wonderful freedom as a child?

A.** Yes, and I didn’t realise that either. The only thing is that I thought other mothers were a bit odd. Like Mrs Schmitt – she would always say to her sons, ‘Where are you boys going?’ I used to think how very odd – like it’s not her business. I thought she was so nosey. I never told her the truth, not once. I never said where we were really going, even if we were doing something she wouldn’t object to, we just never told her. I thought it was odd that she was concerned about where they were and I thought she was invasive. I had no idea that it was my mother who was the other way around.

**Q. Looking back now, how do you see your mother?

A.** As having been a great mother because she never criticised me. I criticised my kids. But if something went wrong with me or someone complained about something I’d done, she’d say ‘Oh dear! Well, I don’t know, I just don’t think you’re meant for this town. You’re just meant for bigger things.’ She never criticised me and I think it gave me a lot of self-confidence. It’s really interesting because I gave a book talk last week to a bunch of eastern Europeans and they thought she was the most God awful mother they’d ever met. Because they’d lived through very hard times and they think that a mother who doesn’t give her child food is unloving. I said, ‘There’s all kinds of ways to love your child.’ And trusting in them and thinking that everything will be okay, assuming that they know what they’re doing. And I think she saw that it wasn’t going to work out with me to stay at home all the time – I was being really hyper. And she said, ‘Hey, this isn’t going anywhere.’

**Q. I liked her tolerance and acceptance of you, and the way she talked to you and encouraged you.

A.** I agree. She was a fabulous mother, she just wasn’t conventional. I didn’t understand that at the time. I thought all mothers talked to their kids that way. When I did a Phd in philosophy and science, I would always think, gee, this is an interesting way to look at it, I bet the professor will really like this – this is way back when there were no women in class, I’d be the only woman in science. And I think that came from my mother saying, ‘Oh that’s an interesting way to look at it.’ As if a four-year-old had an interesting way to make an igloo, I mean I’m sure it was boring. She would say, ‘That’s exactly what a very famous igloo maker would build.’ Part of the reason I named my book Too Close To the Falls, is when you give your kid a lot of freedom, you can get too close to the edge. And I think a few times I really did get too close to the edge, but I think you learn quickly. I think it is a great way to grow up, if you don’t go over the falls. I think I was right on the edge.

**Q. Literally as well, by the end of the book.

A.** Yes! I think the way they raised me was a bit on the edge. But also – I’m a psychologist as well, I own a private practice – people tell me, those who were born in the 50’s as well, that there were child molesters around then. There was incest, too. You just didn’t hear about it. Now I think people are way over-protective. I think the best thing you can do is to give your kids self-esteem and confidence.

**Q. Was your mother raised in a conventional way?

A.** Totally.

**Q. So she was just a very individual woman?

A.** Yes, her sister had five children and all of them became nuns and priests – she was very Catholic. She went to daily Mass, was very conventional in that way. The hardest chapter to write was my mother’s chapter. Because everything I said about my mother was true in one way and not true in another. In the sense that she was very, very different in some ways, while in others she was completely conventional. She would never have gone out of the house wearing the wrong colours in the Fall. Transitional colours, you know, all the other stuff – her purse matched her shoes matched her hat. Have you seen a movie called Far From Heaven? No. You should see it because about 10 people from Lewiston I haven’t seen in like 30 years, called me and said that is your mother. Maybe it’s not on there yet. It’s got Randy Quaid in it and the story is set in the ‘50s.

**Q. I’ll love it, because that’s my period, too.

A.** God, you sound like you’re about 25. My mother fitted perfectly into the ‘50s, she was a member of the garden club and the study club, and all that stuff, but then she’d close the door and go ‘Ooph! Thank God we don’t have to do that. ‘Lock the door, and don’t open it, no matter who knocks. Hit the floor!’ Nobody was allowed to move or make a shadow.

**Q. Your book has been immensely successful – how long has it been on the best-seller list?

A.** 100 weeks.

**Q. Short-listed for the Trillion Award?

A.** Yes. It’s a big award here, the Trillion is sort of the national flower in Canada.

**Q. Is it like the Booker?

A.** Yes, but not as prestigious, I don’t think. A few Canadians would argue about that.

**Q. You’ve received lots of fan letters?

A.** Oh, thousands! I have over 100 people who have written me, who worked from the age of four. ‘I worked in my father’s pet store’, or ‘I delivered newspapers’. Of course, then there were the people who went to Catholic schools who write to me …

**Q. Are you surprised that your book has struck such a chord?

A.** Shocked! Totally shocked. It’s interesting that Roy struck such a chord.

**Q. I love Roy – he’s my favourite character. I wanted to grow up with him, wanted him in my life.

A.** That’s what everyone says! I have hundreds and hundreds of people who say that Roy is their fantasy character to grow up with.

**Q. Do you feel that now, looking back, you were lucky to have him?

A.** Recently, on a memoirs course, people asked me how I felt about people reading it and me writing it. And when I first wrote that part about Roy I didn’t feel anything, I just thought, ‘Oh yes, Roy is a good guy.’ By the time I got to the third draft and not just writing the stock character, as I remembered him, but go back and see how I felt about him as a kid, I was in a foetal position sobbing. I didn’t do that at all when he left. I think first of all, I thought that he was coming back. The other thing is that we all take cues from our parents and our surroundings, and my cue was we all move on. Don’t cry over spilt milk. And there was the stereotype of who I was, tough little girl who didn’t boo-hoo. So I just thought, ‘Okay, Roy’s gone.’ My father said to me once Roy would want you to move on. So I thought, okay, I have to be really tough. I honestly didn’t experience his loss fully until I got to my last draft. Then I was completely overwhelmed. Interesting that I kept that in for so-o-o long. If it was powerful, part of the reason is that it was 30 years lying there and I think it must have been building.

**Q. Roy was a gift. He was so wise and he treated you wonderfully, and I loved the way he got you to tell stories, like the time you were stuck in the snow and you described your meeting with Marilyn Monroe, while his nose was slowly freezing over?

A.** The reason I remember that so clearly is that he lost a chunk of his nose that day and I lost a chunk of my ear from frost bite. So whenever I do that reading – I always show that [the ear].

**Q. You look a bit Marilyn Monroe-esque in photographs.

A.** Except her hair was platinum and mine’s white/grey, there’s a slight difference.

**Q. How has the success of your book affected on your life?

A.** It hasn’t changed my life drastically. But there is a movie in the offing – we’ll see, I have learned a lot about how Hollywood works and you don’t believe it until it’s in the theatre. It’s been optioned. That’s very exciting. I was a psychologist working full time. Now I only have to work half time and I can work the other half on my writing. So that’s been an absolute blessing.

**Q. And you’ve done a lot of touring.

A.** And TV? Yes.

**Q. Have you become a national personality?

A.** I guess so. It’s sort of strange. Among people that read, yes. But how many people read? Real national personalities are football players and actresses. What’s so weird is I don’t have a television. People will say I saw you yesterday and it will shock me. The idea of being recognised. The other thing that’s very strange is people will come up to me on the street and talk to me in detail about their life. And they think that because they’re familiar with my life, I’m as familiar with theirs. They feel like they know me and they start telling me all these intimate details. You know, “This is what happened to me the first time I kissed a man,” and I’ll be on the subway!

**Q. Is that you as a child on the cover, wearing a cowgirl suit?

A.** Yes. It’s funny, I’ve just been to New Orleans and the women there are really, really eccentric in a really great way. They talk about before the war (Civil) like it was yesterday. Anyway they all showed up in cowgirl outfits.

**Q. You’re joking?

A.** No, and the woman who introduced me was the only one not in a cowgirl suit – she wore a Davey Crockett hat.

**Q. Are you comfortable with people raking over the details of your life?

A.** I was, but I was quite shocked last week when I went to that group of Europeans and they said my mother had been neglectful. How could your mother allow you to go to Harlem? They thought she had been a bad mother and I felt badly about that. I felt I had exposed her in a way I wouldn’t want people to see her, because I didn’t experience her in that way. Then I realised they really saw things through their experiences. I think whenever you’ve been hungry – been through war – the whole idea of not having food in your home for your children is so unthinkable. But I did think, why did I expose my mother to their scrutiny? Had a minute there where I thought maybe it’s better to write fiction.

**Q. Did you feel like hitting them?

A.** I felt like crying or punching them, one or the other.

**Q. Who was the first person to read the manuscript?

A.** The same woman who had gone to the reunion with me, she had had a bit of a flavour of the town. When we talked to some people in Lewiston, they said you had no idea what it looked like, this tiny little blonde girl travelling around town with this guy Roy. Lots came out about Roy when I went and did a reading there. Lots [of people] stood up and told what Roy had done for them. Being an outsider, a lot of people confided in him and when you’re a delivery person in a small town, doors are unlocked and you’d be invited to come in and sit down. We entered people’s lives. The one thing the town got very exercised about was Warty. They insisted they were much kinder to her than I had recognised in the book. I found out that when people feel guilty, they don’t actually see what’s on the page. Amazing! They claimed they’d given boxes of clothing and they were upset that it wasn’t in the book. No, it wasn’t.

**Q. They were blinded to it because of their emotional reaction?

A.** That’s right! A man stood up, a lawyer in the town, and said he resented that I insinuated that he was Warty’s father. There was complete silence and his wife had to say, ‘Would you come and sit down?’ His own guilt was literally pouring out. It was just amazing. I guess Warty is like the biblical story of the leper – who takes care of the leper? I think everyone wanted to be seen as the good Christian town of the ‘50s. They weren’t as good to her as they could have been. I said, ‘Look, I don’t think anyone is judging you. ‘It wasn’t about the town’ I wanted to say, ‘Get over yourself, you’re not that important. It’s really about Warty, not about you.’

**Q. Were you apprehensive about going back to Lewiston after the book was published?

A.** I am a lamb to the slaughter. I think that’s part of the problem with my upbringing, I really thought that everybody would like the book. And if they didn’t, they would say, ‘Oh well, that’s your view’, the way my mother would. Of course when I got there that wasn’t true! I didn’t think Warty was born from a Dalmatian. These people aren’t readers either – right? I said, ‘Had you ever heard the Dalmatian story? Well, that’s what I meant.’ They didn’t understand the difference between memory and truth.

**Q. The ending shocked me – I didn’t guess for a second about the Jesuit priest.

A.** I know, I was completely shocked and everybody else knew. That was the humiliating part of it. People in Lewiston said, ‘How could you not have known that?’ I just didn’t get it. I’m like that now. I went back to Lewiston thinking everybody’s going to really like the book and I took the Toronto Star newspaper and a film crew – they asked could they come and do stories on me returning to the town. I thought what a good idea, I had no idea people would be irate about it. I was shocked people didn’t see things my way – I think that’s the thing about being an only child with permissive parents. You think everybody’s going to find you delightful and when you get there, they don’t! As my husband said, surprise, surprise.

**Q. You row competitively?

A.** Yes. I just got back from Boston, we did the Charles River. We were hoping to come to Australia actually – we row all over.

**Q. So this is a high standard?

A.** We’re a Masters team, there’s four of us. We used to be better. I swear with menopause, you get worse every 10 minutes. We definitely had our heyday. I’m the eldest in the boat. I was number 1 in the boat, then number 2, then 3, now I’m 4. Next year I’ll be swimming alongside it.

**Q. You’ve obviously won a lot of events.

A.** Yes, we’ve got gold medals and our own coach. We’ve really done well over the years.

**Q.You’ve raised three sons?

A.** Yes, well they’ve grown, let’s put it that way. Two are 21, one is 24.

**Q. You have twins?

A.** Yep, identical twins – I have a psychological study in my own home.

Q.Not surprisingly, you’re like your mother and not into cooking?

A. I did try last year. I did the Christmas dinner, but I left the plastic package in the turkey – they don’t tell you that in the cookbooks! ‘Remove the plastic package’ – it doesn’t say that anywhere. I’m starting my first cooking course. I try to use cookbooks, but they use words I’ve never heard of. They say “simmer”. I know what it is in romance, but I have no idea what it is in cooking. There’s a tremendous number of assumptions. I grew up not knowing potatoes were French fries.

**Q. Your sons left home?

A.** The horrible thing that happens here is that in North America, people leave and then they come home. So I have two still in university and one that has come home to work for a year, between undergraduate and graduate school. He’s a philosophy major, so he said he’s come home to think. I told him to get a job and think at work.

**Q. Describe your surrounds?

A.** I live in downtown Toronto, right in the middle, in a brownstone like in New York, three floors, an old Victorian home.

**Q. Cold there now?

A.** Freezing. Tons of snow, you know all those pictures of the Arctic, that’s what it looks like.

**Q. How many years have you been married and what does your husband do?

A.** 30. I’m an Irish Catholic from America, he’s a Polish Jew from Poland and then Israel – quite a mix – and he is a radiologist.

**Q. I believe people are imploring you to write another book about your life, but your husband doesn’t want you to?

A.** I threaten him with that. I say, ‘Are you gong to clean the driveway with the snow? And if you don’t, I’m going write a sequel.’ I really use the sequel all the time. It was easy to write my book because both of my parents passed away early and I’m an only child. The rest of my cousins are nuns and priests, so all they do is pray for me. It’s a lot harder to do stuff when people are alive. I’m thinking of a sequel, but I don’t really have the characters I had – it was a lot easier to write that book. I was lucky, I had Roy and Warty, the Marilyn Monroe thing, I had a lot of stuff happen.

**Q. Have you grown up a gambler because of Roy’s influence?

A.** No, I went to a conference in Las Vegas and I thought, ‘I wonder why I thought this was fun?’ I think Roy made it fun. What I liked about the way Roy did it, he made you pay up. He never acted like I was little and he was big. A week’s salary was a week’s salary, so it was like a big deal.

**Q. He treated you as an equal.

A.** Totally. I was shocked when a reviewer suggested he was a baby-sitter because he never made me feel like that. They missed the whole book if they didn’t get that, frankly. You have no idea what people miss. There are people who don’t know he’s black. How could they read the story of when we go into the bar and miss it? But I go, ‘So Roy was black’ and they go, ‘Black???’ Shocking isn’t it?

**Q. You’ve started another book about Freud and his daughter, which is a kind of murder mystery?

A.** It’s an historical novel about Freud’s seduction theory, tracing Freud and Darwin through the 19th century.

**Q. It sounds serious.

A.** It’s more serious, but there are two detectives in it who are slightly humorous. One has killed her husband and she forgets why. There’s comic relief. We’ll see.

**Q. I guess you’re still busy enjoying the success of this?

A.** Yes, but I’m feeling the pressure to get something else done now.

**Q. Horoscope sign?

A.** Aries.

**Q. That’s why I liked your character in the book! I have a lot of friends who are Aries.

A.** It’s very interesting because a lot of people who relate to me as a character are people who are like me.

**Q. I loved the idea in your book about being different, but everything still working out. I think, too, everyone has moments as a child when they think they’re totally different.

A.** Oh, totally, I learned that as a psychologist. That everybody feels they are completely bizarre until they realise the thoughts they have within themselves, everyone has. One advantage of being a psychologist was that no matter what I think, it didn’t scare me too much to put it on the page because I knew what people think – right? People would say, ‘Oh how did you say this bit?’ And I’d say, ‘Oh big deal.’ Everybody has pretty much the same thoughts and you learn that as a psychologist. When you ask what are your best memories and your worst memories, they are almost all the same.

**Q. It’s an interesting mix of psychologist and writer – these two aspects of you obviously rub along quite easily?

A.** Yes and I’ve always been interested in the personalities – I’ve always been interested in the people in science, whereas my husband is interested in statistics and formulas. I like that, but my interest is how did this one man come up with this theory? I like that integration.

**Q. Do people call you Cathy or Catherine?

A.** Cathy.

**Q. And if I said Cathy loves …?

A.** Fun.

**Q. Cathy believes …?

A.** In myself.

**Q. Any particular reader or genre you like?

A.** I’ve taken to reading memoirs to compare them. I think before I wrote mine, I was totally obsessed as a teenager with Victorian novels. I’m just not ready for the 20th century yet.

**Q. Let’s hope you come to Australia – I understand you’re well acquainted with a lot of Australian culture?

A.** I’ve enjoyed reading Australian books. I started seeing all the Australian films, started going to the film festivals. I love your movies. They take these small things and make movies out of them, they don’t make blockbusters. They know themselves and say they’re happy with who they are and they make movies about small moments in time. I just saw Phillip Noyce’s Rabbit Proof Fence and I really liked it. I don’t think there is an Australian film I haven’t seen. All the directors come to the film festival here and I really like how the Australians have a marvellous speaking manner – they speak very well like the British, but they’re not like the British because they’re more honest and more out there. Any seminars that the visiting Oz directors give, I always go. I would love to come out to Australia.

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Too close to the falls

Meet MARILYN MONROE in an exclusive extract from March Great Read: Too Close To The Falls – A Memoir by Catherine Gildiner (Flamingo, $21.95)

The Marilyn Monroe saga: It is 1952 and four year old Cathy and Roy are delivering a prescription to Marilyn Monroe on the set of the movie Niagra, which is being shot close to Lewiston, a small town in western New York where Cathy’s father is the pharmacist:

Cathy went up to the guard and said that they had a prescription for Marilyn Monroe. The guard said he would make sure she got it, but Cathy informed him of the narcotics law in New York State which maintained that the person whose name was on the prescription had to sign for the drug if it was listed in the registry as a narcotic. Low and behold, the rope was moved, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea when Moses divided it, and Roy and Cathy were led on the set. They went over to the chairs where Henry Hathaway, the movie’s director, and Joseph Cotton, the leading man, were sitting. Joseph Cotton, a man, was wearing makeup that even Irene would have thought excessive.

Henry Hathaway seemed relieved to see Cathy and Roy and said, ‘Thank God Marilyn’s medicine is here. You’ve saved my bacon!” He reached for a megaphone and yelled, ‘Let’s call those extras back to the set in one hour please.”

Jean Peters, another actress, who was leaning on the motel set having a cigarette under the “No Vacancy” sign, threw her cigarette on the lawn and seemed kind of in a huff. She said, pointing to Cathy, “Well, she’s the only natural blond on the lot.”

Henry Hathaway laughed and told Cathy, “You never know. You may be our next star.”

Joseph Cotton said, smoothing his tweezed eyebrow, “After all, Betty Grable was discovered at Schrafft’s and her hair was only half as blond as yours.”

Cathy was thrilled. Henry gave the security guard the go-ahead for them to go to Marilyn’s room in the Sheraton Brock Hotel. Because of the crowds who were waiting for Marilyn to get off the elevator, the guard had to take them up in a special freight elevator that had quilts on the walls.

Cathy knocked on the door, but no one answered. One thing Cathy and Roy knew was that when you deliver narcotics, people are happy to see you. That much she’d learned practically in her crib. She leaned close to the door, tapped, and murmured, “Nembutal for Marilyn Monroe.”

That was the open sesame. Marilyn popped her head out of the door looking like a ruffled white rooster with hair askew and smeared ruby red lips and muttered., “Oh, I’m not quite dressed yet. I know I have to sign – pardon my attire and the mess and come on in.” She opened the door fully and the delivery pair entered, not without trepidation, for Marilyn was in her slip. There were clothes all over the floor, and cigarettes with red ends that were hardly smoked were overflowing the ashtray and getting mixed in with piles of makeup in more colours than an artist’s palette. “I just have two more nails,” she said, hastily applying Revlon Night to Remember nail polish on top of chipped old red polish.

Her tight slip wasn’t doing a good or even adequate job of covering her body. The scanty eyelet undergarment was white, but her long-line brassiere, garter belt, and pants were black. The cups of her bra were lace and had concentric circles sewn in top-stitching, and were shaped like sugar cones for ice cream, pointing straight out. Now, if the facts be known, Cathy wouldn’t have been caught dead in a room with another woman, let alone a man, in that getup. Cathy gave Marilyn a look which let her know that Roy was a man and that maybe he should wait outside.

Roy carried the maroon leather narcotics log and held it out for Marilyn to sign, pointing to the spot where the morphine was listed. As he leaned over to give her the pen, she flopped down on her vanity stool and prepared to sign, scowling as though she’d signed more of these than she cared to remember. Suddenly her mood and body seemed to loosen up, and she said in a little-girl kind of breathy voice, “What’s that smell? Is that Juicy Fruit?” She leaned close to Roy’s face and sniffing. Roy didn’t say anything. He just got out his Juicy Fruit and casually handed her a piece, but she said he had to peel it because her nails were wet. As he took off the yellow wrapper and foil, she gave the signed narcotics log a big squeeze against her chest, which made parts of her body come up over the top of her slip and slide all around. Then she handed the book back to Roy, saying in that same gushy voice, with eyes open wide, as though she were shocked or something, “Now, that was a sneaky way to get my autograph.” Then she smiled at Roy and her face really lit up. Her whole sort of pudgy sour face turned radiant. He remained calm, as though he were talking to the Duponts or Warty or Marie. Roy had a style that didn’t change with the wind. He said, “I go all over these parts, givin’ out Juicy fruit sticks and getting’ autographs. Why, yesterday we got…who was it, Cath? Ava Gardner, wasn’t it? But she wanted Doublemint.” He beamed back a smile right at her. Marilyn didn’t wait for Cathy’s share of the joke. “Well,” she said, raising her shoulders and everything else that seemed connected as well, except for her slip, “I guess you can’t satisfy everyone.” Roy was quiet and never moved away after getting the book back. He said, “So I’ve heard tell.” For some reason Cathy didn’t feel included.

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Extract: the sunday wife

Our Great Read for February is The Sunday Wife by Cassandra King (Allen and Unwin). Look out for it in your local bookshop, bearing the Great Read Sticker!

I ENDED UP AT Grayton Beach because I came to Crystal Springs first. It was three years ago, the first Wednesday in June, that Ben and I moved to the town of Crystal Springs, across the state of Florida from the Jacksonville area where we’d lived for twenty years. With the moving van a few minutes behind us, we pulled our cars, me following Ben-a metaphor for our life together-into the driveway of our new house. We’d moved before, several times, but this was the most momentous one yet. Ben motioned for me to join him before we walked up the brick walkway to the house. A welcoming committee awaited us inside, and I was nervous. A few weeks before, Ben had met with them and won them over; now it was my turn.

“Dean, listen to me now,” Ben said in a low voice, as we stood next to his blue Buick. “I was thinking on the ride over-a couple of things I forgot to tell you about these folks.” Although I was skittish, worried about making a good impression, Ben was poised and confident. His brown eyes were alight, his dark hair in place. Almost fifty now, Ben looked better than the .rst day I saw him, standing in the back of the First Methodist Church of Amelia Island. As a young man, he’d been good-looking in a boyish, cleancut way; as an older man, he was remarkably handsome. Trim and muscular, he always dressed well, impressive in dark suits, starched shirts, silk ties, and fine leather shoes. He was one of those men who became more distinguished with age, his silvered temples giving him an air of authority. A helpful trait in his profession.

I folded my arms and leaned against his car with a sigh. “I don’t know how,” I said, “since you’ve given me every detail of their lives. Bet I know more about them than they do.” Looking around, I saw that the church, next door to the parsonage, was big, much bigger than I expected, with a towering white steeple and stained-glass windows gleaming in the sun like jewels. The saying went, the more stained glass, the higher up the ladder the preacher was. Ben was halfway to heaven here.

“Remember this, because it’s very important,” he said in a whisper, although there was no one around to hear him. “The Administrative Board chairperson is Bob Harris. Bob Harris, president of First Florida bank, a real big shot in town, so be especially nice to him.”

“Bob Harris,” I repeated dutifully, looking away from the church. I didn’t know it would be so big. I longed for the safety of our little church in Lake City, wishing we’d never come here. Earlier on, I’d been as excited as Ben, thrilled with the move, his appointment to Crystal Springs. Now I was just apprehensive.

Ben bent his head close to mine and I smelled his spicy aftershave. “Got everyone’s name right? Bob’s wife’s Collie, I think. Collie something-orother.”

“Collie dog?”

“Collie Ruth, I believe. No-wait, that’s his sister-in-law. His wife’s Lorraine. Or Loretta. Loretta Harris, that’s it.”

“Which one, Ben?”

“Lorraine, just like I said. You’ve got to pay attention, Dean, or you’ll mess up. Now, remember who the president of the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee is?” I shook my head and held up a hand, annoyed. “You’re confusing me. Trust me, okay? I’ll get their names right.” Ben had trouble with names, not me. “I’m not the one who stood in the pulpit and introduced the guest soloist Peter Littlejohn as John Littlepeter,” I reminded him.

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Cutting his eyes my way, Ben tried not to smile, to maintain his look of piety. It was a look he was good at.

“Never. Anytime you get too self-righteous I’ll be here to remind you,” I told him, smiling. We’d spent twenty years together with me being his foil; he was the esteemed man of God, me the thorn in his side. “I’ll be fine, Ben, don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“You’d better be. Let’s go in, then.” As Ben straightened himself up, I readied myself, too, smoothing down my long denim skirt, reaching under the waistband to tuck in my best white cotton blouse. Licking my fingertips, I smoothed back my hair, tugged on the ponytail at the nape of my neck, fidgeted with the wide barrette that held it in place. But when I retrieved a tube of lipstick from the small purse hanging over my shoulder, Ben took my arm and pulled me forward, his grip firm. “You don’t have time to primp,” he said in a low voice. “They’re peeking out the windows at us! Let’s go.”

As we walked up to the house, I was taken aback by the difference in it and Ben’s description. When he’d returned from meeting with the committee, I’d probed him to describe the town, the church, and the house in minute detail, but he’d been vague. He did okay with the church and town, but all he remembered about the house was that it was big, yellow brick, Colonial in style, and very formal. He’d not told me it was such a .ne place, that the front lawn with its lush green grass was so neatly landscaped, abloom with white daisies and orange daylilies. He’d neglected to say that the wide grounds sloped toward the street to a sidewalk shaded with palm trees. Towns with sidewalks seemed more welcoming to me. The brick walkway leading to the front porch of the house was bordered in purple pansies, their sweet faces turned toward us in greeting.

Ben put his hand on my back, steering me forward, and I swallowed nervously as we climbed the brick steps, moving toward our new life, to meet the people who’d decide if we’d make it here or not. I glanced at Ben, praying he’d tell me it would be all right. He ignored me, eyes straight ahead, and I forced down the panic building somewhere deep within, causing my knees to go weak and my heart to thud. I can do this, I repeated to myself, I can do this for Ben.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I married Ben. Had I known, would I have done it? It’s impossible to answer that now. All I know is, when I first laid eyes on the Reverend Ben Lynch, I knew he was the man I’d marry. I’d taken a job right out of college, as pianist of my foster parents’ church on Amelia Island, when the Reverend Ben Lynch was appointed our pastor. It was his second, maybe third, church appointment since he’d gotten out of seminary. His .rst Sunday, he was standing in the back of the church, greeting the congregation, when I walked into the choir loft to prepare for the morning worship service. I stopped and stared at him. Although not much taller than me, he was well-built and broad-shouldered, with thick brown hair and shining dark eyes, goodlooking as a movie star. I pulled the choir director aside and whispered,

“Who is that?”

“Our new preacher,” she replied, smiling slyly. “Good-looking, isn’t he? We’re lucky to get him. He’s on his way up.”

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Book gossip: Feb 2003

Stranger than fiction… get the scoop on the happenings of the book world!

It isn’t easy being the son of someone famous.

And it’s even harder if you choose a career in the same field. Thomas Steinbeck, son of John, who has made a living writing screenplays and teleplays, has waited until his mid-50s to write his first work of fiction, a collection of short stories he heard around the kitchen table as a child.

“When you’ve got a Nobel prize and a Pulitzer prize in the family,” he explains, “why be greedy? I was just happy to put a roof over my head.” He adds that his father considered being able to feed a family and keep a roof over their heads a sign of success.

“He never thought of it (being a writer) as being an artist – he thought of it like any other craft, like being a butcher or a shoemaker.”

Thomas says his father never taught his children how to write: “But he taught us how to think.” His collection of stories is titled Down to a Soundless Sea.

There’s no such thing as bad publicity.

Take American lifestyle queen Martha Stewart. The stock price of her company has taken a hit since it was revealed she may have acted on insider information when selling ImClone Systems stocks, but her books on entertaining and crafts continue to sell by the truckload. Seems a good recipe for apple pie will always win through – but no-one is suggesting she should write a book of tips on personal investment!

Home spun wisdom.

Adriana Trigiani, has made a big hit with her first three novels set in the remote Appalachian town where she grew up. Now she reveals she is planning a fourth novel in the series. This time, her lead character, Ave Maria, sets out to find love: “Then she has to try to make that love work without having the skills to do it,” Trigiana says. “I don’t think any of us have those skills, we have to develop them.”

Humble-pie.

Award-winning Melbourne children’s book author, Sonya Hartnett, could be excused for feeling she needs a split personality to get by. “My whole life is vastly contradictory,” says the author of Thursday’s Child, which won the Guardian’s children fiction prize late last year and who also works part-time as a bookseller in her hometown Melbourne. “At one end of my career I’m in England in a fancy hotel, winning the Guardian prize, and at the other end the most respect anyone gives you is to chuck their Mastercard at you while continuing to talk on their mobile phone. But it’s kept me humble.”

Celebrity blues.

Seems celebrity memoirs have lost a bit of gloss in the past year. Many publishers have been left holding the bag with unearned advances. The big sellers, such as Billy, which slipped back in the top 10 in the UK over Christmas and Kurt Cobain: The Journals, are becoming a rarity. In Britain, where it was tipped to have its biggest market, Kylie: La La La, was marked down immediately after Christmas to less than half price by one of the major bookstore chains.

And more on celebrity memoirs.

Janie Hampton, working on the life of Joyce Grenfell, stumbled across a revelation – but not the kind she was hoping for. Hampton, who knew the performer all her life, found an entry in Grenfell’s diaries – about her teenage self! Janie, said the diary, had hair that was too short, skirts that were even shorter and was guilty of behaviour that was a “bit slutty”. Janie told the story with good humour at the book’s launch.

Ooh la la

Sarah Turnbull, 36, an Australian backpacking journalist who landed in France in (to the Parisians) shockingly tatty clothes, and who went on to write the bestselling Almost French, admits she still loves trakky daks and can be seen on the streets of Paris wearing them to her Pilates classes. Her book, which has now sold 80,000 copies with rights sold to the US and the UK, is about her love-hate relationship with France, and her affair with Frederic, whom she has since married. Despite the cultural difficulties, Sarah now says “Paris is home”.

More from foreign shores.

Peter Moore, the Australian travel writer whose irreverent and funny books have seen him dubbed the Jim Carrey of travel writing (which he hates), found an unlikely cultural hero on a journey through Ethiopia. During a riot in Addis Ababa he was confronted by a group of angry young men who screamed, “American! American!” He was allowed safe passage when it was explained he was from the land of Skippy. Skippy, which is shown on local television, is a hero.

Scary.

Not content with dominating the adult horror book market, Stephen King is making his first foray into children’sterritory. Little Simon, part of Simon and Schuster, is planning to launch a pop-up book of The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon, aimed at kids aged from three upwards. Says King, “I’ll try not to scare them … well, not too much.” It’s due in 2004. Pop-up books are handmade and take time, it seems.

In the shoes of Francoise Sagan.

At the ripe old age of 21, the Irish prime minister’s daughter, Cecelia Ahern, has made a whopping million dollar two- book deal with US publisher Hyperion. Her first book, provisionally titled P.S. I love you, is about a young Irish woman whose lover dies suddenly, leaving her instructions on how to carry on without him, and is due out later in the year. The book also goes into the importance of friendships, reportedly in the vein of the TV series Friends.

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February 2003 book reviews

A Presumption of Death

by Jill Paton Walsh and Dorothy L. Sayers, Hodder Headline, $29.95.

While Harriet Vane’s husband, Lord Peter Wimsey, is aboard on hugely hush-hush business at the beginning of World War II, she takes their children to the safety of Tallboys, their country home. But as villagers emerge from the inn cellars after an air-raid practice, a dead body lies outside. Paton Walsh uses the style and flavour of Sayers, Wimsey’s creator, to weave a skillful mystery, where Harriet finds herself surveying suspects, soldiers and spies, and solving it all with Lord Peter’s help, of course. This will please Wimsey devotees.

The Piano Tuner

by Daniel Mason, Picador, $35.

In 1886, Edgar Drake is asked by the war office in London to tune a valuable piano – which just happens to be across the world in the jungles of Burma. It’s a bizarre request, but the piano’s owner is an army surgeon whose peace-making efforts amongst the warring states in the area are under suspicion. Drake’s long journey to an exotic land means a new outlook on his previous everyday world, and a new life which he may find difficult to leave once he has restored the magic of music within a beautiful land.

The Four Temperaments

by Yona McDonough, Random House, $29,95.

A saga set in the tempestuous and creative world of New York ballet. When Oscar, the orchestra’s leading violinist, starts an affair with Ginny, a young dancer from the corps de ballet, he knows it will not be a long-term one. When Ginny goes on to fall in love with Oscar’s son, Gabriel, emotions erupt and two marriages are endangered; Gabriel’s to beautiful, erratic Penelope and Oscar’s to practical, determined Ruth. A great mix of ambition, desperation and love.

The Bridge to Holy Cross

by Paullina Simons, Harper Collins, $29.95

The sequel to The Bronze Horseman, this book moves swiftly from the ’30s to the ruthless wartime years of the early ’40s. Alexander decides to stay in communist Russia while Tatiana begins a new life in New York. The difference in their frightening circumstances challenge fate as we wonder if the strength of their love can be kept intact over the hostile distances between them. A big tapestry of a book to fully absorb you.

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Q&a: Cassandra King

Cassandra King is author of The Sunday Wife, selected as The Great Read in the February issue of The Australian Women’s Weekly.

The plot centres on the beautiful and talented Dean, who tries hard to live up to the expectations of her odious preacher husband and his congregation. It’s an involving, emotional and intelligent read that is as much about the claustrophobia of small town prejudices and narrow views, as it is about a woman’s journey to independence with the help of a good friend.

**Q Hi, good to talk to you.

A** I am just thrilled to have contact with Australia. I’ve never been there and I’d love to come there one day.

**Q Congratulations on your book, I understand it’s very successful in the US.

A** Yes, it’s been wonderful – gone much better than I ever expected.

**Q You’re being called the “new voice from the South”?

A** I hope!

**Q You weren’t all that confident of the book’s reception?

A** To me, the minister’s wife, Dean, could be any wife, but I wasn’t sure if people would be comfortable with that idea of her being married to a minister. I wasn’t sure if it might limit my audience. I’m very pleased that I’ve got such good responses. I just got a letter from a woman who wrote to say thank you for my book and that it gave her the courage to change her life – she’d been in an unhappy marriage for a long time.

**Q The book is partly autobiographical?

A** That’s right. I found myself, to my big surprise, to be a minister’s wife for over 20 years. Unlike my character, Dean, I did know what I was getting into in some ways. I was raised in a small town where the central focus was the church and the family – that was all we had to focus on.

**Q You grew up in Alabama?

A** Yes, southern Alabama, deep, deep Alabama, and going to church was so much a part of my upbringing. Living in a small town, I had seen ministers come and go and I had observed that that would not appeal to me at all. Women always gossiped about the minister’s wife. Talked about her hair and clothes, how she behaved and how she raised her kids. They had her either up on a level with her husband or she would not quite make it. I grew up and got engaged to a young man who had been in the peace corps. After that he went to theology school. I said I just don’t think I’m cut out to be a minister’s wife, to tell you the truth. He said, well, I’m not cut out to be a minister. We were in Atlanta in the 1970s – it was the place to be then. My husband ran a youth centre attended by Martin Luther King’s children and he was interested in civil rights and social action. It was wonderful and interesting until one day he said, “I have been fooling myself. I thought I could run away from my calling, but I can’t and I have accepted a church in Alabama”. This was before women’s lib had hit in the south. It never crossed my mind to say you didn’t think about talking to me about it first. It was a momentous leap, a major life change and he hadn’t even thought to discuss it with me – that should have told me something. I’m a slow learner (laughing).

**Q In the story, Dean’s journey to independence is aided and abetted by Augusta, who was a fabulous character, outrageous and free-spirited – was there an Augusta in your life?

A** We went to about five different churches and in each one of those churches I had different women friends who were in some ways Augusta figures. I also have several friends from my college days who were also Augusta styled women. These were women I’d known from before I married. So Augusta was a composite of many women who were supportive and a catalyst for change in my life. I think I really began to change the day a woman I knew said to me, “I can’t believe that everyone thinks your husband is so wonderful – I think he’s such a jerk.” It was kind of eye opening for me, because it my husband was revered as a minister.

**Q If he was so admired, it must have made it harder for you to be critical of him?

A** Yes, he was surrounded by so many starry-eyed people, you begin to lose your perspective. Then you begin to think “oh, he’s tired, he doesn’t really mean it”, and he has certain demands on him and pressures.

**Q Why is it, do you think, that women stay for so long in unhappy relationships that are patently very bad for them?

A** I think it is so common, it is heart-breaking. For so long I thought it was confined to women of my generation. Coming along on the cutting edge of women’s lib, I thought that things would change. I’m 58 and this was in the days before women’s lib had really hit the south – things are always a bit slower there. But I am surprised to say that I have heard it from young women. Heard them say they think they can change a man. That there’s this optimistic thing that all he needs is a good woman. He’s misunderstood etc. It also has a lot to do with women’s infinite capacity to have low self-esteem. I don’t know where that comes from. Except none of us ever think that we look good enough, that we are good enough and that has to be a factor. That’s one reason why I made my character from a poor background where she didn’t have the kind of upbringing people would expect of a minister’s wife.

**Q When you set out to write the book, what did you set out to achieve, outside of telling your story?

A** My priority for me is always the story. I was at a book fair recently where we talked about our writing and one of the questions was, do you have any agenda? Of course we do, but I hope that it is sub-conscious. What I hope is that my story will help women free themselves from oppressive men. Or at least, question their lives.

**Q You have three sons from your previous marriage – did you have to talk to your children about writing this book?

A** I did tell them about it. They have had great, great difficulties with their dad. But the book wasn’t a pay-back. I didn’t have that attitude going on. Oh no, no, not at all. As a matter of fact, after my sons read the book, they said, “you made him much too nice. Dad was a much bigger jerk than that.”

**Q Is it true that you met your second husband, the author Pat Conroy (Prince of Tides), after asking him to write a blurb for your last book?

A** No, it’s not. I’ve read that myself though, and somehow it has gotten around. No, I would never have had the nerve to ask him (laughing). I met him at a reception for him that was held in Birmingham. He came to give a speech. I had done my Masters degree and my creative writing director had already met Pat. He introduced us and told him that I had written a book. Pat said, “you didn’t mention anything about a book!” I said, “Well of course, I wouldn’t tell you!” I loved his work but that was the last thing I was going to tell him. He offered to give me a blurb. It’s a fine distinction, but I certainly didn’t approach him and ask for it, I’m way too shy to do that.

**Q That was the book Making Waves in Zion?

A** Yes.

**Q Obviously there was an attraction then and there when you met?

A** Well, he swears to me that that was the case. The only reticence on my part was that I was still married. I met Pat in February 1995 and my marriage fell apart a few months later, in May. I didn’t know much detail about his personal life. I knew he had a family and had kids, but he was divorced that summer as well, so he had already been separated from his wife. He called up and asked about me, got my phone number. He said he’d liked me right from when we met and wanted to know more about me.

**Q It seems amazing that you met at just that point your lives?

A** It’s unbelievable. Pat is very gregarious. He’d get on the phone and talk to me for hours. So, of course, he gave me a blurb for my book. He got my number, I got his and I thought that was that. But he would start calling me and just talk and talk and talk for hours, and we really became friends, before a relationship developed. One of the times he said something about having a rough time after his divorce. I said, “No kidding, I just went through one, too.” So that’s how it began.

**Q Are you married or living together?

A** No, we’re married, five years in May.

**Q I know you worked as a writing teacher. Are you still doing that or writing full-time now?

A** I’m writing full-time now. I had every intention of teaching but Pat said, “Oh, why don’t you do something for me? Before you go back to teach, why don’t you take a year off? Work on your manuscript and see how it goes?” I said, “Okay, I’ll give it a go.” I actually did quite well with selling the manuscript. So I thought I could make this work.

**Q In the midst of everything that happened, it must have taken you a while to write the book?

A** Yes, it did, and not only that, it was difficult for me. I didn’t want to re-visit it. I had just gotten out of this marriage that had ended painfully and I didn’t want to go back there.

**Q You live in South Carolina – describe the surrounds?

A** We live on the Atlantic Ocean and it’s very pretty. We love salt water, we both love to swim. So we do that in our down time. We both love to cook. Sometimes we’ll have friends over, sometimes we’ll have no-one but ourselves. Sometimes Pat will flip through a gourmet magazine.

**Q When you completed the manuscript for The Sunday Wife, who was the first person to sit down and read it?

A** Pat did. I was very careful not to bother him about it for two reasons. He was, as usual, way behind his deadline on his book. And I mean way behind, years behind. And getting pressure from his publisher. He had all this going on, so I wasn’t about to put something else on him. And plus, I can’t really talk about something while it’s still being written – something about dissipating my creative juices – I don’t know. So I had to get it totally completed so that I had a manuscript from page one to the end, before I wanted anyone to see it. Pat had some excellent suggestions. About a small cut here – or you do need a scene here. He is very blunt – plain spoken.

**Q Have you become a celebrity in the US with the great book sales that The Sunday Wife has achieved?

A** God, I hope not.

**Q In the book Dean plays the dulcimer – do you?

A** I’m not any good. I am not musical and it’s one of the great heartbreaks of my life. I love music. I tried to play guitar, tried piano lessons. I can’t dance either. I tried so hard and have no gift for it. But I can play the dulcimer, it really is not difficult.

**Q You sound very happy with your new life, which must be great after so many years of difficulties?

A** I really am. But I’m afraid to say it in case the gods punish me – they may be lying in wait thinking, “aha! You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

**Q Your star sign?

A** I’m on the cusp of Aquarius/Pisces but because I was born just before midnight, on February 18 and Pisces starts February 19, when I read description of star signs, I find I am much more like a Pisces than an Aquarian.

**Q Did you dream about writing from a very early age?

A** Absolutely. And I wrote. I wanted to write plays. I put on plays with my dolls.

**Q You are the eldest of three girls?

A** Yes.

**Q And what did your parents do?

A** My dad’s a peanut farmer in Plains, Georgia, almost the same area as Jimmy Carter.

**Q Mum did home duties?

A** Exactly. And then after all of us kids were grown, in the last part of her life, she became a volunteer working at a retirement home and started working part-time with them. She was like the activities director. Took them on trips, did ceramics, started an exercise group. So she had a late life career. She was so robust, she was never sick.

**Q You’re now working on a new book called The Same Sweet Girls?

A** I’ve worked on it some. I haven’t done as much as I’d like to.

**Q If I said Cassandra King loves?

A** Trees, birds, the ocean. I love the world that God has provided for us and I love the people who take care of it.

**Q And believes in?

A** Fate and I do believe in God. It may not be the traditional image of God, but I do believe there is something greater than ourselves.

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Choosing your attitude

Yes, choose! We have little control over many stressful events and the bigger the event, the smaller we may feel by comparison.

For example, when we hear about famine in Africa, we may feel overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the problem. Very few of us, however, would refuse to give food to a hungry person, if asked.

By maintaining this attitude, we may decide to do what we can, however small our action may seem. We choose our action by standing for hope. We can reserve the right to be optimistic, and to think positively about solutions to problems, including our own. I call this learned optimism “thinking well”. Thinking well about difficulties is:

  • constructive

  • flexible

  • impartial

  • curious

  • balanced

  • tolerant

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By contrast, thinking “badly” (by reacting to difficulties with knee-jerk negativity and pessimism) is:

  • destructive

  • rigid

  • cynical

  • frustrating

  • resentful

  • sarcastic

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Take the example of Eliza, a young woman who is jilted and feeling unloved. She might despair and conclude that she is worthless and useless, but this type of thinking is corrosive and negative. An optimistic alternative would be to try to consider the best possible outcome – accomplishing a happy relationship despite the difficulties. Eliza’s thoughts might run like this:

  • I have love to give.

  • I need to find the right partner.

  • I did my best in the relationship but that wasn’t enough.

  • It won’t help to blame anyone.

  • I’m a worthwhile person even if that relationship isn’t.

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Five great ways to simplify

Feeling overwhelmed? Here are five easy ways to streamline your life, find more time and feel less stressed.

1. Have a clean-out.

According to feng shui, the Chinese art of placement, the clutter in your home correlates with parts of your life that need attention. Key spots include your entrance, which represents how you approach life, and your attic, which represents your goals.

2. Maximise your commute.

If you travel two hours a day to and from work, over the course of a year you will have spent 21 full 24-hour days commuting! Use the time wisely by: reading, if you’re not the driver; listening to tapes; or working out, if you can bike or walk to work.

3. Cook ahead.

Save time and eat more healthily by cooking on the weekend and making enough to freeze for the rest of the week. Soups and casseroles freeze particularly well.

4. Dejunk your mind.

If you find yourself unable to focus, try this quick meditation. Sit in a chair with your hands in your lap. Focus on your breath and begin counting each exhalation until you’ve counted 10 breaths. If you lose count, start again.

5. Save a tree and your sanity.

Keep paper and electronic junkmail to a minimum. Arrange to have some of your bills paid electronically. And sign up for a junk-email blocking tool – for ideas, visit www.obviously.com/junkmail

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Prostate cancer

A promising remedy for prostate cancer?

Science has good news for men. A recent study, published in The Journal of Urology, shows that a supplement containing the herbs saw palmetto (Serenoa repens) and reishi (Ganoderma lucidum) slows the growth of prostate cancer.

The study tested the effects of the herbs on 69 men with prostate cancer over 33 months. One year into the study, 88 per cent of the men had reduced levels of prostate-specific antigen (PSA), an enzyme that indicates spreading of the disease.

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Stress

From The Australian Women’s Weekly Health Series Stress: How to Cope with Pressure. Click Here to buy to the book!

Gender thinking

For whatever reason – whether by nature or conditioning – men and women tend to think in very different ways.

These differences can generate enormous tension and stress. This may be reduced if you can gain some insight into the pattern of your partner’s thinking, and try to accept the differences.

Here are some common features of gender thinking which tend to promote misunderstanding. For example, when two members of the same sex get together, the content of the discussion may fit these forms:

How women look at things

Issues are 75 per cent personal and 25 per cent business. Women tend to be concerned with the quality of friendship and connection and feelings generally. Speech tends to be wide-ranging and detailed. Women prefer discussing the nature and consequences of a problem, in order to gain reassurance and confidence about themselves.

Women may frequently ask questions such as “What should be done?” and “Can I do it?”

How men look at things

Issues are 75 per cent business and 25 per cent personal. Men tend to be competitive, concerned with who’s bigger, tougher, stronger, better, and who has the most “toys”. Their speech tends to be direct and precise.

Men will try to solve problems where possible, in a effort to do something concrete. This role is powerful. “Knowing what to do” is important.

The most effective thing a man can do when talking to a woman is to check with her that he has grasped her meaning. She will greatly appreciate this effort!

When it’s just too hard

Despite the positive suggestions in this chapter, there are still relationships where abuse and violence affect both partners and children.

Often there is a major underlying problem such as past sexual abuse, current alcohol abuse (or other addictions) or depression and chronic unhappiness for all.

If you consider that you, or your family, need help with such issues talk with your doctor or trained people who can support you to change. Professional help is essential if you wish to change these family patterns in the future.

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