I’m so sorry — in my earlier invitation, I gave you the wrong address for the Stillness exhibition. Here’s the correct (and very beautiful) location where I’d love to welcome you: Studio on Brunswick Shop 2 California Lane, off 22 McLachlan Street, New Farm
Yes, it’s a different street — but the same promise of stillness, soul, and connection.
The exhibition opens at 5:30pm on Saturday 12 July, and I’d be absolutely delighted to see you there.
Stillness is a collection of mixed media artworks and poetry created during a time of deep personal transformation. Each piece is an invitation to pause, breathe, and reconnect — with yourself, with beauty, with quiet truth.
Come for the art, stay for some bubbles and the company. Let’s share a moment of presence together.
Writing your first book is hard. Not hard in a you might not make it way, hard in a personal growth way. It stretches you. It teaches you. It invites you to show up, over and over again, even when it’s messy or unclear. That’s something to be proud of. There’s no point in looking back with regret and wishing you did it differently.
Your first draft won’t be perfect. Your tenth might not be either. But every version, every attempt, every quiet moment you spend trying to get the words right is part of the journey. Those messy drafts, the constant second-guessing, the moments where your confidence disappears completely? That’s all normal. It’s part of the process. Every author you admire has been exactly where you are. In fact, many of them have been there with every single book they write.
Every stumble, every deleted page, every, What am I even doing? moment is completely normal. In fact, it’s to be expected. That’s how writing works. That’s how writers are made. You’re not off track, you’re exactly where you should be.
Now’s the time to regroup. Pause. Take a breath. Look at how far you’ve already come. You’ve built something. Maybe it’s a little crooked. Maybe it needs a stronger foundation or a fresh coat of paint. That’s okay. Now you get to revise, refine, reimagine, and craft your book.
You have tools now. You’ve got feedback, insights, ideas. You’ve got instincts that are sharper than they were before. Trust them. Go back to your manuscript with a clear heart and look at it with fresh eyes. Read every line not with judgment, but with curiosity. Ask yourself, “How can this be even truer?” Not more polished. Not more literary. Just more you.
Ask yourself not, “Is this perfect?” but “Is this true to the heart of what I’m trying to say?” Every line doesn’t need to sparkle, it just needs to work. You don’t need to impress anyone. Aim for honesty, clarity, and connection. You just need to finish what you started, in your own voice, in your own way.
Because this isn’t just about finishing a book. It’s about becoming a writer.
And becoming a writer means learning how to stay the course. How to bounce back. How to work through uncertainty. Writing a book is more than just telling a story. It’s about learning how to show up even when it’s hard. It means trusting that every draft matters, even the messy ones. It means falling down and getting back up, again and again. It means embracing the long game, and celebrating the small wins along the way. So if you’re doing that? Then let me be clear, you already are a writer—building something bold, one brave word at a time.
I’ve been conducting a series of Writer’s Workshops, focusing on the art of crafting compelling narratives. I help writers construct their words and meaning into easy-to-read, elegant words and sentences. Many writers believe their work is complete after three or four drafts, but true refinement often begins at this stage. Diligent crafting is essential to elevating a manuscript to its highest potential.
Recently, I collaborated with my publishing editor on my latest book, The Letters. Over the past decade, this project has undergone numerous rewrites, and restructurings, including twenty edits. Even after this extensive process, my editor identified areas for improvement.
My Mum used to say, ‘If I can just get myself right, I’ll be OK,’ and I hear myself echoing her words sometimes. Humans are obsessed with needing to be fully healed (whatever this even means) … a constant need to improve and be fixed. An obsession with, ‘Something is wrong with me, and I must heal it now, and forevermore.’ Ummm…there is no ultimate utopian, fully healed land of perfection and harmony, with no conflict – It.Does.Not.Exist.
Rather than the need to be fully fixed, can we just try to be fully here? Which is the authentic antidote for healing and wellness. Healing means being OK with ourselves wherever and whatever we are, in each moment. Not blaming, shaming or guilting ourselves.
Healing doesn’t mean the absence of pain or discomfort or difficulty or moments of confusion or doubt. Or ignoring our feelings or lying about them to ourselves, or slathering them in some kind of spiritual mumbo jumbo weirdness. It does not mean forgetting, not being triggered, or all is perfectly comfortable all the time. Trying to deny the discomfort of dark and murky spots in life will get us a one-way ticket to misery, confusion, and constant exhaustion.
Welcome every emotion as an old friend. Creativity happens in the moment of acceptance. Not in shame or blame. Pure kindness to self, creates unlimited creativity.It means being OK with yourself wherever and whatever you are in each moment. Not needing to change it, willing to face it, and feel it. Healing does not mean instant forgiveness, or clarity or even feeling better. It is the willingness to wade through the mud, no expectations, the only goal being … presence to it all. Not turning our back on any part of ourselves … that is our healing.
Recently I was asked by Queensland RSL News to write an overview about a children’s book I’ve written, The Promise, and they have kindly published this in Edition 4 of their magazine.
During World War II, Papua New Guinea nurse Maiogaru Taulebona hid a wounded Australian airman in a cave, deep in the jungle near Milne Bay. With two words, “I promise”, she was bound to the task of saving his life.
WORLD War II was in its third year, and the Battle of Milne Bay was raging in Papua New Guinea. On the night of 25 August 1942, Japanese soldiers landed between Waga Waga and Wandula, on the northern coast of Milne Bay. The intention was to seize Milne Bay in preparation for landing in Port Moresby, their final destination.
It was during this time of carnage and confusion that an Australian airman, John Donegan, was fished out of Milne Bay by local fisherman Kidilon Luka. He pulled him into his canoe and took him to a mission nurse, Maiogaru Taulebona, who hid him deep in a shadowy cave so that enemy soldiers could not find him. It was then that she made a promise to protect him and take him to safety.
Maiogaru treated his wounds, wrapping them in banana leaves, and stayed with him until he was well enough to move. Determined to fulfil her promise, Maiogaru placed him in a canoe, concealed under a pile of vegetables, and paddled him through the night to a hospital on the other side of the Island.
Maiogaru one of the brave locals who took an enormous risk by helping injured soldiers in WWII. The Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) thanked Maiogaru for saving the life of an airman, and she was awarded the Loyal Service Medal.
This is my second book written about a nurse in Papua New Guinea during WWII. The Flying Angels, published in 2021, was my first. The Flying Angels revealed the story of a group of RAAF nurses who were handpicked to rescue injured soldiers from the frontline of Papua New Guinea.
At the launch of The Flying Angel, a friend placed a Kina in my hand as a gentle reminder of the local Papua New Guinea people who also assisted and helped Australian soldiers in WWII. It was my friend’s passion for PNG’s unsung heroes that encouraged me to start my journey to find this amazing story about Maiogaru Taulebona.
The Promise is a story of courage, resilience, kindness and hope, which celebrates the bond between the people of Australia and Papua New Guinea. It is also a personal story for me as my father, Henry George McGregor, was stationed in PNG during WWII in the Signals Corp. He told me that he would not have survived without the help of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, as they were fondly called at the time. With care and love, these PNG natives became the Australian soldiers’ unsung heroes, rescuing injured Australian soldiers and taking them to safety.
On the 80th anniversary of the battle of Milne Bay, Chief of Air Force, Air Marshal Robert Chipman AM CSC presented copies of The Promise during his official visit to Milne Bay. Nurse Maiogaru’s family and local primary schools were very proud to receive these books. The Chief of Air Force recognises the significance of this story in connecting children in both Australia and PNG, and the significance of their shared history.
This book is a valuable resource for children to learn about their ancestors and how this conflict significantly shaped our history. The Promise also speaks of the bravery of women in the community. I believe there is a great need for authentic stories of local PNG heroes to be heard, and these ancestors will reach out to young PNG and Australian children to show them the way forward with clarity, courage, and hope.
I enjoy telling little-told Australian stories of WWI and WWII and am available to talk at schools and events about these and other ANZAC stories. vicki@vickibennnett.com.au
Published by Boolarong Press, The Promise is available in bookstores and at www.boolarongpress.com.au or www.vickibennett.com.au
