#ArmchairTravel is (literally) the only way to go

chair-270980_1920

So, we are in very strange times. The world has been sent to its room and now we must find a new kind of balance in all that we do, when all that we do is in the confines of our homes.

As a lifelong traveller, someone who longs to go, see, and do, this lockdown means I need to find a new way to travel. And to do that, I will be reaching for the books of my colleagues in the travel fiction and travel biography genres.

I’ll be picking up Frances Mayes and Julie Caplin, Kiley Dunbar, Linn B. Halton, and Paige Toon. There are dozens of us who write about faraway places and evoke just what it’s like to be there.

My next book, That Night in Paris, will take you on a whistle-stop tour of Europe, and the one after that, A Sunset in Sydney, to London, Hawaii, New Zealand, and Sydney. You could even catch up on my first book, One Summer in Santorini, which will whisk you off to the Greek Islands.

So in this unprecedented time when the only way to travel is from the comfort of home, seek out your travel adventures within the pages. And from me is a promise to keep taking my readers to wonderful locations.

See you amongst the pages.

Image by Hans Braxmeier.

Love in the Time of C̶h̶o̶l̶e̶r̶a̶ COVID-19

Ahhh, love…

It truly is a magical thing, so much so that I’m building a career out of writing about it.

And of course, true love is for better or worse, for richer or poorer, and in sickness and in health―whether or not you’ve stood before witnesses and said those words out loud.

My partner of fourteen years, Ben, has been by my side through shoulder surgery, foot surgery, two visits to the emergency room (both in the US and both at ridiculous cost to my respective insurance companies, but that’s another post), anxiety attacks, bouts of depression, the worst flu I’ve ever had, inexplicable dizzy spells, migraines, that weird rash I got in Bali that lasted the better part of a year, and various maladies that have visited me from time to time just because I am a human who lives in the world.

When it comes to being unwell, he’s my person.

But I’m starting to see social media populated with THE BIG QUESTION from fellow romance authors: Do we write COVID-19 into our contemporary romances?

My short answer―and this is me speaking for myself―is ‘no’.

The longer answer―again, just me speaking for myself―is ‘definitely not’.

I’ll tell you why.

We’re already living in a world that’s post-911, post-Brexit, post-GFC, post-Aussie Bushfire Crisis, post-Trump and mid-Climate Change Crisis. There are likely others, but this list was as much as my hopefully romantic brain could summon.

And those global events do permeate contemporary fiction, including romance, even if it’s just a line about getting a work visa, the winery being lucky to escape the bushfires, admiring Greta Thunberg, popping a bottle into the recycling, or what can and can’t be taken onto a plane.

Of course, with the #MeToo movement, contemporary romance authors are (more openly) addressing consent, and as a genre, we’ve been writing about safe sex for years.

So, why add COVID-19 to the mix?

There are some clever (and fast-writing) contemporary romance authors who have already published stories where the ‘meet cute’ is having to isolate with the best friend/long lost love/biggest nemesis/ex/soon-to-be ex/taboo love interest/the one that got away.

But, I can’t…

I write travel romances―stories about finding love when you travel. And in a mid-COVID-19 world, I am struggling to find the romance in lockdown love.

And as we sit amid yet another lockdown, having to isolate and forego hugs, travel, live performances, dinner parties, and a myriad of other (close-human-contact) joys, our time to read has increased exponentially. Some will want to read about people finding love during a pandemic, and others will want to avoid it altogether, escaping into a book the way we used to escape to somewhere new in a car or a plane.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. What are your writing or reading during the pandemic?

A love letter to Australia

It is Australia Day 2020. January 26th is a contentious date, because it marks the arrival of the First Fleet―the first European settlers who arrived in Australia in 1788.

Of course, by commemorating this date, Australia ignores that in 1788 we were already populated by hundreds of nations of Indigenous Australians forming the world’s oldest civilisation. January 26th marks the date of an invasion and the beginning of a genocide.

This post isn’t about whether or not we should change the date of Australia Day, although we absolutely should. This post is a love letter to my home, my country, my Australia.

My Australia

My Australia is the person at the tram stop who sees that you’re lost and points you in the right direction with a smile. My Australia is the person at the party who draws the introverts into conversation, and makes sure everyone is heard. My Australia has a hearty sense of humour―often bawdy, always self-deprecating, and sometimes a defence mechanism.

My Australia has skin, eyes, and hair of every colour, and is all genders, faiths, and identities, for My Australia is all of us. We have lived here 60 000 years and 6 days. Our roots are deep and just starting to grow. What we share is beyond cosmetic; it is a connection―to each other, to our land, to our country.

My Australia bears scars―from when we went to wars and defended our shores, from being ravaged by fires, floods, cyclones, and drought, from dark times of hatred, anger, and entitlement, bearing those scars with humility, pride, or shame.

My Australia reaches out when someone is in need. We rally, we show up, we dig into our pockets―we care. We weep together, lean on each other, support and cajole each other. We extend our hands willingly, not afraid of the blisters or back-breaking pain we’ll incur as we rebuild.

My Australia is not the scurrilous and self-serving politicians who banter obscenities at each other and extol the virtues of ‘clean coal’. It is not the hatemongers or nationalists or the bigots. These people are the minority, one that is slowly dying out.

My Australia is adventurous and intrepid, both at home and abroad, with well-stamped passports and battered luggage, with postcards that loved ones have sent from the corners of the earth taped to the fridge, with plans for trips and getaways and long weekends and stay-cations. We must go, see, and do.

My Australia loves the sea, the sun, and the sand, we love the deserts and sunrises and sunsets, we love the rain forests and eucalypts, our native animals* and red, rocky monoliths. We love the bustle and energy of our cities with their sky-scraping towers, and the warm friendly welcome of our country towns, where the local pub feels like home.

My Australia is brilliant, with an intelligent mind, a creative spirit, grit, athleticism, and the ability to see the future. We are doctors, scientists, artists, teachers, communicators, technicians, builders, athletes, and change-makers. We are on the edge of the future, speaking up, taking risks, saving lives with medical breakthroughs and art that feeds the soul. We build, create, and solve. We are―as always―batting far above our average on the world stage, a tiny nation of 25 million achieving wondrous things. We also make the best wine and coffee in the world.

My Australia is home―my home, our home.

And though she is being ravaged as I write this, I have to believe she will recover, wearing her scars with pride as we come together and rebuild.

And on our current bushfire and climate crisis, this image by artist, Melina, evokes what I struggle to put into words.

tribute-art-to-australian-bushfires-1-5e1c2df324674__700

*Except maybe the spiders―we have some really, scary spiders.

New Year’s Absolutions 2020

2020

It’s that time again! Time to reflect on the year that was and absolve myself from those niggling ‘shoulds’ that I just can’t bring myself to do.

So, in time for the kick-off to the 2020s, I absolve myself of …

Finishing my ‘to be read’ list before buying new books

I LOVE books – as in, I love them so much I should marry them. I once said that if the TBR list on my Kindle was a stack of books on my bedside table and it fell on me in the night, it would crush me and I would die.

That’s still true.

And even though I feel guilty about the ones I haven’t read yet, I won’t stop buying books. It’s because of that moment when I’m contemplating ‘next read’ and I have so many options that I can find exactly what I’m in the mood for.

So, no more guilt. I’ll just keep buying all the books. BUYING. ALL. THE. BOOKS!

Taking up running (again)

I used to be a runner. I ran here, I ran there, I ran all over the darned place. Then I got runner’s arthritis and had foot surgery (it hurt worse than the arthritis for more than a year). And I kept promising myself I’d get back to running, because the truth is (and I know that may change what you think of me), I love to run.

LOVE IT!

It’s my meditation, it clears my head at the end of a long day, it fuels my creativity, it revs me up at the start of the day, and it does wonders for my legs. Or, it did. It’s been years since I ran regularly. It’s just too painful on that foot – not during the run, but afterwards and sometimes for days.

Still, that niggling promise rears its head from time to time.

So, new promise: no more running. I am, however, contemplating a new spin bike…

Doing keto

Keto is a fantastic way for some people to manage their sugar sensitivity, break their sugar addiction, lose weight, and live a healthy life. (BTW, if you think keto is eating as much bacon as you like, that’s not accurate and it’s worth reading up.)

Yet …

Having tried several stints of keto over the past 18 months, ever since I started learning about the health benefits, I know for sure that it is not for me.

I have a sensitivity to artificial sweeteners and to high fat food, even if it is good fat. I never get to the point where I feel great and have loads of energy. Keto has never once made me feel better, so never again.

However, I do intermittent fasting (intermittently – a couple of times a week) and that works amazingly to make me feel great.

Going 100% digital

My partner, Ben, is something of a tech aficionado and he’s tech savvy to the point of savantness. Thinking back over 2019, I can count the times I’ve seen him put pen to paper on one hand – and they were signing cards or documents.

I, on the other hand, am passionate about all things paper. I write lists, I scribble reminders on Post-its, I muse into notebooks (love me a good notebook), I write my character profiles by hand, and in my day job, I will sketch out plans and ideas on butcher’s paper. A stationery store is the mother ship to me.

So, no matter how many tech tools get designed and made to replicate all these paper-driven activities, I will fiercely hold onto my pen and will wield it to organise, plan, pontificate, create, and remind.

After all, the pen is mightier than the latest piece of software.

That’s all for this year. I wish you all the best for 2020 – may it be filled with grand adventures and lots of what makes you happy.

And remember to add a comment to this post with your absolutions …

 

 

NoNo NaNo, WhyNo FOMO?

NSW Oct 2019

Next month is National Novel Writing Month, or as it’s called in the (writing) biz, NaNoWriMo, or NaNo for short. Yes, I know it sounds like something Mork would chant right after he called Orson, but NaNo is serious.

The goal is to write (at least) 50,000 words of your WIP (work-in-progress) in the month of November, an average of 1666.66 words a day, give or take a decimal point.

I did my first (and only) NaNo in 2018 while we lived in Porto during our sabbatical. I had written 30,000 words of my (then) WIP, and I set myself the goal of finishing the manuscript during NaNo. As we were on sabbatical and I didn’t have any contract work in November, I could dedicate myself to full-time writing. I smashed it. 75,000 words in three weeks.

I had an online support group — NaNo encourages community — and a group of young Portuguese writers who I got together with once.

Only once, because the in-person group weren’t really working towards getting published. One of the gals I met was doing her 12th NaNo. She looked so young , I jokingly asked her if she’d done her first one when she was ten years old. No, she’d been eleven. She’d written eleven manuscripts eleven years and none had seen the light of day since. The others in the group were the same — for them, NaNo was about the community, putting pen to paper, or fingers to keys, and letting the stream of consciousness flow.

For me, NaNo was about writing a novel I could get published. (The novel I finished last November, That Night in Paris, is being published in March by One More Chapter, an imprint of HarperCollins. Watch this space — literally.) I gave these young writers online support for the rest of the month, but as we had very different goals, they weren’t really my writing tribe.

Flash forward to July this year. July is ‘Camp NaNo’ with the more achievable goal of 30,000 words in 31 days. I had an idea for a Christmas book and got 35 000 words in. The biggest difference between NaNo 2018 and Camp NaNo 2019 was that this year, I have a full-time job. I was happy with my Camp NaNo word count, and the manuscript — another ‘watch this space’ for Christmas 2020.

The intensive NaNo approach seems to work for me, so surely I am doing NaNo 2019?

No. NoNo NaNo for me this year.

And, as soon as I made that decision, I felt like I could breathe again.

Because, I’ve got enough to get on with in the next few months. Finalising edits for That Night in Paris, then handing over structural edits for the third book in my travel romcom series, then finishing my Christmas book.

I am already at capacity, and I already have the motivation I need to get the work done.

So this year, I will be championing my writer friends from the sidelines. You got this. You’re amazing. Practice self-care. And write, write, write.

My name is Sandy and I am an author

I met with a financial advisor once – once. When he asked about my long-term plans (career, finances, retirement), I replied that I would probably never truly retire, because one day I’d be an author and I would continue to write ’til the day I stopped breathing.

He laughed at me. Out loud. Then he tilted his head and gave me a pitying look. I asked him to leave and went back to my desk and wrote a chapter.

That was in 2001.

I finished that manuscript, a travel biography of my year as a Contiki Tour Manager, then stuck it in a drawer. For years.

I dusted it off once and gave it to a writer friend. “This should be a novel,” she said, so I started turning it into a novel. In late 2012, I got 70000 words into a re-write, then queried it to an agent in Australia. He loved the first three chapters and immediately asked for the rest.

“This isn’t your first book,” he said on the phone a few days later. “It’s good – you’re an excellent writer – but you’re not Liane Moriarty. There are too many narratives, too many characters. Go and write a single narrative – a simple story. Then come back to me.”

Encouraged, I did.

Mining my own (sometimes interesting) life, I turned my true-life love story into a novel. I wrote You Might Meet Someone about a woman in her late-thirties, who – post-breakup – is fed up with men and takes herself on holiday to Greece, sailing the Cyclades Islands. Everyone tells her how she might meet someone – so condescending and unhelpful – but she just wants to travel and soak up the briny air and sunshine. Of course, she does meet someone – make that two someones.

(Aside: in real life, there was only one someone and he is still my someone.)

I went back to the agent. “Hi, do you remember me?” – that sort of thing. He did and said he’d read the first three chapters. Loved them and later that day, he asked for the rest. The next morning, well before I’d had my first cup of tea, I got the call. He’d read it twice and loved it. ‘Eat, Sail, Love,’ he called it.

He represented me for a year – per our contract – to no avail. No publishing deal. In retrospect, my synopsis and pitch were ‘off’, but my agent thought I should add some ‘danger’ to the book – apparently, danger was selling at the time. I wondered how I could do that. How could I turn a travel romcom into a book with danger? We parted ways amicably and I put the book in a (metaphorical) drawer. That was 2015.

In 2016 Ben and I had been together nearly 10 years and we decided to celebrate our real-life ‘meet cute’ with another sailing trip around the Greek Islands with the same skipper.

On return from that wondrous trip, I was inspired to pull out the book and give it another pass. “Why don’t you self-publish on Kindle?” asked my supportive love. I percolated on that question for a short while, gave the book a final edit, handed it off to a colleague with editorial chops, collaborated with a cover artist in London, and – bottom lip firmly between my teeth – published it on Kindle.

My book was out there. I was an author.

Fast forward to our sabbatical in 2018 and I wrote the sequel (also published on Kindle), then book three in the series. Sarah (books one and two) and her sister, Cat (book three), came to life. The men they loved, their travel adventures, their friendships, their internal battles, their journeys to love, came to life.

Concurrently, I soaked up as much as I could about author life. I took a course on building my author profile and engaged with fellow authors on Twitter. I read widely – both within my genre and about the business of being an author.

As I embarked on the indie author path, I tweaked and honed and finessed my pitches to book bloggers, agents and publishers. I joined author communities. I sought and gave feedback. I engaged beta readers and I became a beta reader – I learned what a beta reader is and why they are so important to the writing process. I entered contests and Twitter pitches, and was featured on book blogs and UKRomChat (hi, lovelies – I adore you so much!). I even did my first NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and smashed it, writing 70000 words of my third book in three weeks.

I worked my little Aussie bum off.

Along the way, I made friends with some incredibly talented, generous, and supportive people – most of whom I’ve yet to meet face to face. I became part of the writing community.

Excitingly, my blood, sweat and lots of tears – a.k.a. ‘hard work’ – is now paying off. I have a new agent, the inimitable Lina Langlee of the Kate Nash Literary Agency in the UK, and she has secured me a two-book deal (!) with a soon-to-be-named imprint of a soon-to-be-named (big five) publishing house.

It’s happening. I am being published – by a world-renowned publisher.

I am embarking on a long-distance, long-term relationship with an agent who loves my work and believes in me, and a publishing house who described my writing as ‘beautifully sumptuous and evocative’.

So, as I commence writing my fourth book, as I assemble the dream cast for the movies of my books, as I continue to work in a field I (also) love and am great at – adult education – I am humbled, excited, terrified, vindicated, grateful, and … well, I am an author.

p.s. Doesn’t Lina Langlee have the best name ever?

p.s.p.s. If you read either of my first two books while they were out in the world, thank you. They’ll be back. (pssst, please leave a review on Goodreads)

p.s.p.s.p.s. Thank you to William (Bill) Aicher of the Indie Author CoalitionAimee Brown, fellow romance author and leader amongst women; DC Wright-Hammer, who shines the spotlight on fellow authors; Rebecca Langham, who started #AusWrites on Twitter (often the highlight of my day); Jeanna, Eilidh, Lucy and all my fellow authors of UKRomChat on Twitter (always the highlight of my romance author week); Allison and Valerie from the Australian Writers’ Centre; and Jen and Kerry from The Business of Books. Thank you Lindsey Kelk, my favourite author who (actually) replies to my emails. And thank you to my friend, Mike Curato, who took a leap of faith to become a best-selling artist and author.

p.s.p.s.p.s.p.s. Thank you Ben and my sis and my family and Lins and Jen and all my lovely friends. x

 

 

New Year’s Absolutions 2019

Those who have followed my blog for a while will know I don’t write New Year’s Resolutions. I do set goals from time-to-time, but the pressure we place on those resolutions can be stifling at best and paralysing at worst, and I refuse to start off a sparkly new year by tainting it with pressure.

Instead, I write ‘absolutions’ – those things I absolve myself from doing. And, a little like wishing for more wishes, I first absolve myself from writing resolutions. Then I consider what things I want to take off my looming to-do list.

For 2019, I hereby absolve myself of the following:

Joining Instagram

If I had a dollar for every time someone has said, “You should be on Instagram!” I could have funded this year’s sabbatical without dipping into savings. I am a travelling author. Apparently, Instagram is the perfect platform for me. But, is it? I have this blog. I have a Facebook author page, and I have grown my Twitter followers from 300 (in March this year) to 2000+. I also have author pages on Goodreads and Amazon. I have enough on my social media plate.

gsmarena_001

Finishing the Outlander books

This is a hard one for me, because I love this series. Once I watched season one of the TV show, I picked up the books. I read #1-6 over a year, interspersed between other books. They are incredibly well written – both great storytelling and stunning prose. They are also a huge time commitment as they average 1000 pages each. But I’m stuck on book seven. It follows too many characters besides Jamie and Claire, and I got into the series because I loved their story. I am (mostly) enjoying season 4 of the TV show, by the way.

outlander-season-4
Season Four

Getting into Virtual Reality

This is also a hard one for me, because VR is really frigging cool. And, my partner, Ben, has a full rig back home in Melbourne, including a steering wheel and pedals for driving. There have been many times when I’ve returned home to find him fully kitted-out and doing battle with unseen enemies or racing around a track in Italy.

It looks incredible, and I LOVED my ten minutes in the Google Earth VR world. But VR gives me the kind of motion sickness that stays with me for hours – nausea, dizziness, a mild headache. It breaks my heart a little, but I promise to go back to it when they improve it to the point where it doesn’t make me sick.

LEK_Virtual_Reality_istock_photo
NOT actual footage of me

Getting to the bottom of my TBR pile

If my ‘to be read’ pile was made up of physical books and it fell on me in the night, it would kill me.

On my Kindle, it makes up ten pages of covers. Some of those covers represent samples of books I want to check out (at some point), some are must-reads by favourite authors, some are must-reads by my author friends. I know I will never really get to the bottom of that pile – I’d have to take up reading as a full-time job – so I absolve myself. My current priority when I finish a book is to scroll through those covers and seek out the books written by my author friends. I get to read across genres, and I get to connect with them on a new level.

pile-of-books-scattered-on-the-floor-in-the-library_bfysuizh_thumbnail-full01

Going grey

I had this one on last year’s list, too. And believe me, I have seriously considered removing it from the list in 2018, because I’ve maintained my brunette status while living abroad. But I am still not ready to embrace my silver vixen status, especially as my options are grow it out (NOOOOOOOO), cut it all off and start again (NOOOOOOOO), or pay oodles of dollars over many months to have a pro do it (HMMMMMMM). Maybe in a year or seven.

205e58e8fa62081b7d59f079e8c8e836--gray-streaks-hair-streaks
Stacy London is fabulous

Whatever your resolutions or absolutions are, I wish you a peaceful, happy, successful, adventurous, challenging, exciting, and lovely 2019.

 

Wherever I lay my head…

The expression, ‘wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home’ has never been as relevant for me as it is now. As I only wear a hat on occasion, however, I think of it more in terms of wherever I lay my head.

Since we handed over the keys to our apartment on Feb 2nd, Ben and I have been on the go – first to New Zealand and currently in Western Australia where we’ve been visiting family and friends. We have stayed in 13 different places in the last 6 weeks, and in each one we’ve found a way to think of it as home – even if it’s only been for a night.

Nesting

I am a nester. I am being told by spellcheck that ‘nester’ is not a word, but I have been a nester for as long as I can remember so I will respectfully disagree, spellcheck, thank you very much.

As a nester, I will always unpack certain things from my luggage even if we’re only there overnight. These things help the location to feel like home. I plug in my electronics, I unpack my toiletries, I pop something familiar on my bedside table. Instant ‘home’.

Drawers

If we’re somewhere for a few nights or more, my nesting goes to a whole new level. I put things in drawers! Imagine that!!

I am especially looking forward to Bali (our next stop) because we will be in one location long enough to unpack completely and put our luggage away. Since Feb 2nd, we’ve been travelling with packing cubes. They are excellent for keeping things organised and mean that I don’t have to go rifling through my whole suitcase every time I look for something –  they’re kind of like drawers for your luggage.

But this morning, after the seventieth time one of us opened or closed a zip, I realised that I was done with the sound of zippers for now. Drawers! I am ready for actual drawers.

Tahoe and Squirt

We’ve been travelling with Tahoe (he’s the bear) and Squirt (he’s the turtle) for over a decade. They’ve been everywhere we’ve been. Even when we’ve travelled alone (for work or play), Tahoe and Squirt have gone along. They’ve been to places I’ve never been, like Ireland and Argentina. Having them with us makes wherever we are feel like home – and they’re very adventurous travel companions.

P1040241
Ready for a massage in Mexico
P1000760
Looking out the window in Vietnam
P1020199
Twin beds in Italy

Ben

Ben and I have lived together since December 2008 in four apartments in two cities. No matter where we are in the world, he is now my strongest connection to feeling like I’m home. He is my home.

So, until 2019, until we sign a new lease and get a set of keys again, wherever Ben lays his head, that’s my home.

P1010920
Bali 2015

 

 

 

 

 

Opinion vs Ideology: Same-Sex Marriage

marriage-equality-in-australia-w

I’m angry.

Our (ridiculous) government has gone through with an expensive plan to survey Australians, asking, “Should the law be changed to allow same-sex couples to marry?”

In the context of the discussions and campaigns associated with this survey, I’ve been told – and I have read and I have heard and seen – that ‘everyone is entitled to their opinion’ on this matter. This rhetoric is typically used to defend a ‘No’ response to the survey question posed by our (ridiculous) government.

Here’s where that breaks down for me. This is not an opinion-based survey. This is a survey of our deep-seated  ideological beliefs. Because at the core of that question is, ‘Do you believe that all humans should have the same rights?’ This is a human rights issue, and the Australian government should have passed a law guaranteeing all Australians the right to marry years ago. It baffles and angers me that it has come to this.

If you’re reading this and are still on the fence, consider that if this survey asked, “Should the law be changed to allow Indigenous couples to marry?” or “Should the law be changed to allow couples who don’t want to have children to marry?” or “Should the law be changed to allow couples over the age of 55 to marry?” or “Should the law be changed to allow couples where one or both are European-born to marry?” there would (rightfully) be uproar. That would be outrageous! Of course these demographics should be allowed to marry. Why does the law currently prohibit them from marrying? Why are we even having this discussion?

Well, here we are, having a national discussion about whether or not an entire demographic of Australians are equal to the rest of Australians. That’s why I’m angry.

And the only reason I can think of for a person to vote ‘No’, is because their deep-seated ideologies tell them that they are superior to others, and that some others do not deserve the same human rights as they do.

But what if homosexuality is against their religion, and they are deeply religious and a ‘Yes’ would be contrary to all they believe?

I’ve given this a lot of thought too. I was raised in a Christian religion that is (wayyyy) far right of centre. I learned that homosexuality – along with a host of other things – was sinful. I have since unlearned this, by the way. I never learned, however, that I should hate homosexuals, nor think that God loved them any less than he loved me.

If you truly believe that your God wants you to hate other people or think that they are less than you are, or that your God loves you more than others because you hold true to his (or her) teachings, then theologically-speaking, you’re doing it wrong.

You can be (highly) religious, believe that homosexuality is a sin, and still believe that all people deserve to have the same rights. Many people who have voted yes are religious.

But what about the sanctity of marriage?

Let’s talk about that. We have a domestic violence problem in Australia. It is rampant, and ugly, and the majority of victims – male and female – are afraid to speak up. As a nation, we seem not to know what to do to eradicate domestic violence, but we do seem to agree that it is a blight on our society.

But never once has their been a discussion (or a survey!) about whether or not perpetrators of domestic violence, people with a blatant disregard for the sanctity of marriage, should have their right to marry removed (a discussion for another time perhaps). So, does the so-called ‘sanctity of marriage’ argument really deserve to be rolled out by a nation that allows perpetrators of domestic violence to marry?

So, no, I don’t accept that this is an opinion-based survey.

Rather, what our (ridiculous) government has done by purporting that this survey is to gauge our opinion on what is essentially a human rights issue, is to normalise bigotry.

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, sure. But, I’m not okay with calling a this an opinion-based survey when it’s not.

And that’s why I’m angry.

#VoteYes