‘Baghdad to Broome, city to country, rural to coast - tell us about your move for a better life. It could be a story of migration, a tree or sea change adventure, returning to your home-town, or moving for work or love.
Where did you move from, and why? What challenges did you face? What connects you to where you live now?
OR
‘My Castle’ - for members who have already written about the previous story
‘Be it ever so humble there’s no place like home’ or as Darryl Kerrigan put it, “What are you calling an eyesore? It’s called a home you dickhead!”
While a house may be a building, we associate homes with positive feelings and furnish them with care - or not! You might share how you acquired your first home. You could reflect on your favourite house or perhaps the most disappointing house or neighbourhood in which you have lived. Has the quiet enjoyment of your home been disrupted by, for example, compulsory acquisition, unwelcome planning permits, noisy neighbours?
https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/residents-shocked-at-plan-to-demolish-suburban-homes-for-pocket-parks-20260804-p60lg4.html
Of course, you can choose either!
You can find plenty of advice on the internet on how to write about house and home.
There’s one suggestion of imagining that you are walking through each room of your house and around the neighbourhood, then make a plan of the house and draw a map of the neighbourhood. Use these visual prompts for your writing. My drawing skills are awful, so it didn’t work for me.
I found a quirky technique that stopped me going down a black hole, wasting time trying to remember details: -
1. Write a list of all the places you have lived (I had already done this as a cover for my folder).
2. Write down the details you are having trouble remembering. Eg why the decision was made to move, the packing up and arriving details, unpacking furniture and clothes.
It seems counterproductive, but as you write down forgotten details, your mind starts to bring forward the details you DO remember.
Eg … I don’t remember how I arrived in Carlton, how I was allocated a room, the names of my roommates, but suddenly I’m remembering the sounds of the first night - ambulance sirens, the rattle of trams and the alarm at the fire station.
Suddenly, I could move on with the memoir ...
Anne, Bev and Graham