Many writers have shared their thoughts with the public:

"There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you." - Beatrix Potter

"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." - Ana s Nin

"Sharing your writing, being enlarged by others' writing, is what makes you feel famous." - Gretchen Bernabei

"Writing is not an amusing occupation. It is a combination of ditch-digging, mountain-climbing, treadmill and childbirth." - Edna Ferber

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing." - Ben Franklin

"One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones to form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment." - Hart Crane

"There are three rules for writing. Unfortunately, no one can agree what they are." - W. Somerset Maugham

From Fast to Medium

The ghost of a big semi-trailer thundered through the night. Yet the roar of its engine was only apparent to its two ghostly occupants, Big Jim and Kate. They were on the Bruce Highway, an hour north of Brisbane, and Big Jim was hunched over the wheel.

"Bloody rain," he growled. "I can't see a bloody thing."

"Cos you can't," Kate said. "You're dead. You're a ghost. You don't have eyeballs to see with."

"I can see this bloody rain, can't I?" Big Jim pointed a thick finger at the window. Outside it was raining cats and dogs, koalas and kangaroos,cockatoos and crocodiles.

Kate shook her head. "Not really, Jim. You think you can see, hear, or smell but it's really just your psychic senses."

"Psychic! Psychmic!" Big Jim muttered. Suddenly, a revved-up Holden whizzed right through the length of the semi. "Bloody kids! They can see it's bloody raining. Do they want to bloody kill themselves?" A tiny pang of guilt ran through him, but he quickly suppressed it. A little further on, Big Jim began to chortle. "See that, Katie? Down there, right between me ghoolies?"

Kate looked down. A motorcyclist was travelling at the same speed as them. His helmet just reached into Big Jim's big bum.

"You can feel him?" she asked.

Big Jim shook his head. "Nah, not really. It's just sensing that he's down there."

The motorcyclist was keeping pace with the truck but kept peering to the left, obviously searching for a turn-off. At the sign for Nambour, however, he suddenly accelerated.

"Oh, mate," Jim shouted. "Now, you're going too fast."

Kate looked sideways at him. "Don't we all?" she said.

"Don't know about that," Jim muttered, and a flicker of unease passed between them. Suddenly, he grinned and leaned forward. "Is that a fork in the road?" He made his eyes big. "Yes, it's a fork... and a spoon, and a whole bloody cutlery set." He sat back; his good humour returned.

Meanwhile, the rain continued to bucket down, coming almost horizontally. They were about ten kilometres north of Nambour when a small kangaroo suddenly appeared on the edge of the road. They saw it tense as if it were about to jump.

"No, mate, no!" Jim groaned. "Don't do it! Don't!"

But too late. The roo leapt out. Jim slammed on his brakes. They locked, but the wheels kept sliding forward. The cabin slowed, but the heavy trailer humped onto the top of it. Kate screamed. Jim fought the engine onto the dirt shoulder, but he felt the trailer skid at right angles to the road. With a deafening crash to the two occupants, yet in ghostly silence to the everyday world, the semi rolled off the road and ripped into the bordering trees.

Jim's broken body hung over the steering wheel. "Mate," he groaned, "I hope it doesn't bloody well rain again tomorrow."

"It just cuts me up," Kate said, sliced by the windscreen. "And it's so boring. What is it, the third time this week?"

Big Jim didn't have much left of a jaw for jawing, but knowing that it was his psychic projection that counted, he said, "You used to be the book reader, Katie. Have you any idea how the hell we can get out of this?"

"Well, I don't think it's hell we need to get out of, Jim. I reckon it's Limbo."

"Limbo, eh? So how do we limbo out?"

"Jim, I never thought you'd ask me to dance."

"I was saving it fer a rainy day."

"Oh yeah, like now, a dark and stormy night?" Kate sighed. "What I've been thinking is that Limbo means it's unfinished business, Jim, unfinished business."

"So, how do we finish it?"

But as the rain was easing, Kate was becoming increasingly see-through. "We have to find out what's unfinished," she said in a very faint voice.

"We do?" Jim said. "But how?" A tinge of guilt again shot through him so that he added, "Was it our fault? Was it? Did we do something? How the heck can we find out?"

"We need to find a sensitive, Jim."

"A sensitive?" The ghostly figure searched for meaning in its ghostly mind. "Oh, you mean like one of those mumbo-jumbo psychic mediums?"

"They're not all mumbo-jumbo, Jim. Some of them are for real."

"D'you know one, Katie? Did you ever go to one?" Big Jim was now almost invisible.

"Yes, I did go to one."

"Was he any good?"

"He was medium."

"A medium medium? How about a good one, Katie?"

"Hmm, that's a rare medium." Kate struggled to answer. "But yes, I did go to one."

"Then how the heck can we find him? We only come out in the rain, and I don't know where you are in between. I don't even know where I am. It's just a grey fog. Just the limbo of a grey, grey fog."

Kate was now no more than an outline. "Concentrate, Jim. Be open. See if anyone reaches out into the spirit world. Concentrate... Concentrate... Concentrate... "

They faded. The rain stopped and the stars came out. Cars heedlessly sped north towards Gympie and south towards Brisbane. Nothing substantial remained of Big Jim or Katie or the big semi. Only a plea seemed to hover in the air, a plea to be open, to concentrate.

The next day dawned bright as bright could be, the blue sky mocking the very idea of rain. In the small town of Nambour, this cool clear day was ideal for Crystal. She pottered around her garden, adding fertiliser to her herbs, apologising to the weeds for pulling them up, then sitting still for the occasional meditation. By evening, she was in a perfect state, perfect to be a Seer for her evening seance.

At seven, only candles provided light for her living room. Incense perfumed the air, and soothing music played in the background. Over the next half-hour, another ten people came to the house and respectfully greeted Crystal. She guided them to a circle of chairs where they sat, holding hands and making their minds quiet.

When the last person was seated, Crystal closed the front door and took her place. She breathed slowly and deeply, absorbing the incense. Eventually, her neck became lax, and her head moved from side to side. The Seer rolled her eyes until only the whites showed.

"Hello." Her voice echoed as if it were coming from inside a drum. "Is anyone there? Hello, anyone?"

Big Jim was following Katie's instructions to be open and to concentrate. So when Crystal dropped her psychic fishing line into the astral ocean, he tried to bite onto its psychic hook. But his ears were as much immersed in the dense fog as were his eyes, and he had to fight his way through the ether. The most the big bloke could do was to use her vocal chords to make a tiny whisper.

"Hello... " Jim said, the medium's lips moving to convey his message.

The group stared. Though no more than a whisper, they could tell that Crystal's voice had dropped an octave.

"Hello," she repeated. "Is that a spirit trying to come through?"

In frustration, Jim raised his voice. "Speak up, mate." The medium's face took on a strong, muscular appearance. "I can't hear you."

Crystal returned to her normal level of speech. "You speak up. I can't hear you." She changed once more as Kate used the medium to shout through the astral fog. "Is that you, Jim? I can hardly hear you."

"Katie? But I can hardly hear you."

"Must be using Telstra," Dave said. He was the joker in the psychic circle.

Crystal shot him a withering look. "We have contact. With someone who has passed over. Speak. Speak, oh wise spirit."

"Katie?" Jim's deep voice said. He was much clearer now, having learnt that the medium was not the message.

"Jim!"

Crystal's face became rubbery as she tried to keep up with the two voices channeling through her. The people in her circle looked at each other in consternation.

"Hey, you two!" Dave interjected. "You're supposed to be communicating with us, not with each other."

Crystal ignored the interruption but hunched as if she were a big man. "Well, Katie," Jim said with the Seer's mouth. "We've made contact. What next?"

"I don't know, Jim. Let's ask the medium. She's got more experience with the dead than we have."

"Okay. Um, hey, you." As he was seeing directly into the Seer's mind, he saw her real name. "Hey you, Mavis Pinchbottom."

Crystal fought for control of her vocal chords. "If you don't mind," she said icily, "it's Crystal Seer."

"Oh, sorry. Keep your ectoplasm on. I'm new to this."

Crystal Seer nodded graciously and spread her arms. "Speak, oh departed. What wise message do you wish to convey?"

"Well, I'm dead... " Jim began.

"No, you're not!" Crystal snapped.

"I'm not?"

"Sorry, Madame Crystal," Kate chimed in. "We are, um, life-challenged."

"You are merely passed on," Crystal intoned. "On the great journey. On the way to the glorious heavens."

"I dunno about that." Jim tried to look around him. "It's pretty foggy where I am."

"Ah, a psychic weather report," Dave said.

"Yes," Kate said, "and... and... Wait! Hold on! It must be raining. I feel a tug... a tug... a tug... "

Crystal's awareness of Kate faded to nothing. Jim also faded. The medium, feeling rather average, looked around. "Hello. Anyone there? Hello. Damn, the line is dead."

"As are the communicants," Dave muttered.

Ignoring him, Crystal rose from her chair. "Quick, the ouija board."

The group moved to a table with a circular board on it. Around its perimeter were letters and numbers. In the centre was an upside-down drinking glass. They each lightly touched the glass and waited for the spirit to move them. They waited and waited, but to no avail. The weather had turned, and Big Jim was once more hunched behind the steering wheel. He glanced at Kate.

"Were you there?" he asked.

"We almost got through, Jim."

"Too right. She was the first medium who didn't run away at actually making contact." Another truck powered through them. "Silly bugger," Jim said. A look of panic raced across his face.

"We'll have to try again," Kate said. "Keep open. Keep concentrating."

"Will do." Jim peered out the window. "Hey, the rain's stopping. Lucky us, we don't have to go right through to the crash again."

With relief, they sensed the storm moving towards the ocean, allowing them to fade. Fortunately, they only had three days in Limbo before Crystal Seer had her next seance. "Is there anyone there?" she intoned. "Anyone passed over?"

"Yeah, it's me... ."

"And me... "

"Big Jim."

"Katie."

The medium's face contorted as they both tried to speak through her.

"After you," Jim said.

"No, after you," Katie replied.

As her lips twisted, Crystal put her hands to her mouth. Then, with an effort, she barked through the cone of her palms, "Jim, you first."

"Righto." He paused. "I guess our main problem is how to move on. I'm not sure, but we might've been speeding."

A whitish ectoplasmic haze hovered around Crystal. In a slow voice, she said, "Speeding? Were you in an accident, Jim?"

"An accident? Too right, we were. I was driving a semitrailer and... and... "

His voice became muffled. Kate came through instead, "What's that, Jim? The fog's in my ears. I can't hear a thing." She sounded panicky.

The medium slowed her breathing. "You faded out, Jim. Your tone changed and you faded out." She was silent for a moment. "You're right. I do have more experience with the passed over than you. Jim, I have to ask: Were you speeding?"

"Speeding? Me? No way." Jim-through-Crystal was quiet, then her male-seeming face melted in misery. He continued. "Could I have been? I mean, mate, we were talking and laughing and all that. In all that rain. Jeez, Katie, I don't remember. Do you?" He sniffed.

"Jim," Katie was also tearful, "you're usually so careful."

"I don't know. I braked and we rolled. I think we slewed across the road? Did we? Hell, I just don't know." Through Crystal, Jim sobbed. "I think the semi must've taken out a whole bunch of cars. Jeez, I feel so bad."

"A semi," Dave muttered. "Where was this?"

"Just n... north of Nambour, mate."

"Just north of Nambour?" Dave echoed. "When?"

"About a month ago, I guess."

"You know, that rings a bell."

Crystal tilted her head. "I hear no bells."

"I mean something on the news," Dave said. "There was an accident. With a truck. It came off the road." Dave closed his eyes, trying to remember. "But it wasn't like that. Not like he said. Um... " He looked imploringly toward the computer. "Can we use that in a seance?"

"The computer?" Crystal huffed. "In a psychic circle? Very unusual."

"It might help," Dave said in, what was for him, a humble manner.

The Seer, feeling the tug from the other side, eventually said, "Oh, well, why not? Why not? Whatever works."

Still holding hands, the circle shuffled across the room. Then, to keep the circle closed, Crystal and Dave both put their hands on the computer mouse to do an Internet search.

"Here it is." Crystal opened a website. "No, Jim, it says here that you weren't speeding. It was a bad stretch of road, now resurfaced." She read aloud, "As his truck slid along the highway, Big Jim manoeuvred it to the edge of the road and managed to miss all the other vehicles. He and Kate sacrificed their lives so that others could live. Well, Dave was right. It wasn't at all like you remembered. In fact, you were magnificent! You're heroes."

"Well done!" Dave called out.

"We were heroes? Jeez, I thought we went across the road," Jim cried. "I must've remembered it wrong!"

"Of course, we both banged our heads," Kate said.

"I felt so bad," Jim said. "So guilty." He was quiet. Crystal waited, ready to channel him again. "Hey, the fog is clearing. I feel lighter, much lighter. And brighter." His voice projected a wonderful sense of awe.

"I see a light," Kate breathed, "a white light."

Crystal glanced at the others, her eyes bright. Dave lowered his head and clasped his hands together as if in prayer.

"Now we can move on," Jim whispered.

"Now we can move on," Katie echoed. "Into the light. Into the light... "