Brian Black

I’ve just come back from a five-hour hike through the bush with my two walking mates to visit a pioneer’s slab hut at the foot of the mountains. We found the remains of a distillery, camellia farm and even a swimming pool, 1860’s style. We ate our lunch and drank hot black tea on the verandah while swapping yarns with the local Ranger who was just as surprised to see us as we were to see him. After spending a leisurely hour or so investigating the site, taking pictures and breathing in the mountain air, we made our way back to the car park and then adjourned to the coffee shop.
In the spirit of the 19th century history, in which we had been immersing ourselves, and their penchant for photos to include clues as to the standing and trade of the subjects, this picture tells its own story. Look closely and it’s clear that I’m no spring chicken, yet not old and decrepit either. Old enough to be wise and young enough to enjoy it. My clothes tell you I’m casual yet practical, ready for anything and the hair, both its length and thinness tell you I don’t really give a hoot about appearances. My obvious enjoyment as I tuck into the forbidden fruits tells you that I enjoy life, yet my figure says that I’m happy to work hard so I can.
Having spent hours tramping through the bush to discover the remains of European’s first presence in this fabulous country, I am also content to be here on the balcony of the Tidbinbilla Deep Space Tracking Centre, marvelling at the 20th century technology that put man on the moon and opened up the universe to mankind.
This is me, this is where I live and what I do. All you need to know now is that I write Romantic Adventure novels that exploit my character, environment and life’s experience, and that one of them is available for peanuts from


Cheers, Brian