(This is a mirror site of my webpage karenjcarlisle.com)

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Shaken, but not Stirred... Yet.

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/29/shaken-but-not-stirred-yet/

Let me share something personal with you. One of my biggest fears is losing my faculties.
Yesterday I hit my head. Smashed it on the tailgate. My teeth cracked. My head throbbed in nauseous pain. My ears rang. My neck, back and teeth ached. A quick flick online (official national health site) confirmed it was possibly minor concussion. As I had none of the 'immediate consultation' symptoms, I took some Panadol, applied an icepack and checked my pupils every couple of hours.
This got me thinking on the fragility of the human brain. Concussion effects the brain. Had I shaken something loose and would it have lasting effects?
Established risks for dementia, other than age, include stroke and include genetics/family history. Other possible risk factors (non-established) include vascular risk factors: smoking, sedentary lifestyle, obesity, insulin-dependent diabetes and hypertension. Other possible risk factors are depression, chemical toxins (eg. heavy metals) and head trauma.
And there's the trigger to my post: head trauma. A sudden, often unexpected event. The consequences can be unpredictable; the smallest injury can be harmless, cause a headache, a stroke or even intracranial bleeding. I studied the symptoms at university. I referred patients for head injuries.
The whack to head reminded me of my fear. What if I couldn't write? What if I couldn't create my art - draw, take photos? Worse still, what if I couldn't appreciate the world around me, remember my loved ones?
Fortunately I know of no history of dementia or Alzheimer's among my blood relatives. My childhood was filled with exceptional examples of sexagenarians, septuagenarians, octogenarians and nonagenarians.  I remember visiting great aunts and uncles who still lived at home, breeding orchids, cooking lemon butter, sharp as a tack. My great grandfather used to regale me with stories, in the thickest Scots accent. My grandmother had a cheeky wit. She could have lived to a grand age if not for an unforeseen accident. I miss her.
I used to imagine myself as an eccentric old lady, with long grey braids, scribbling stories and entertaining the grandchildren. I still do. Dementia wasn't something that factored in my vision. I hadn't considered the option.
Then two things happened:
My dearheart's grandmother developed Alzheimer's. She was in her eighties. She declined in a matter of months.
And I met Sir Terry Pratchett - a man who I admired - for his way with words. I would meet him twice.  First, was in 1999 at the Melbourne World SF Con. He picked my brains on colour vision (I always expected those Frog Pills would one day prove to have visual side effects). The second time was in 2011 at the Sydney Pratchett convention, Nullus Anxietus. I was fortunate to have dinner with him and discuss many things, including his buggerance - Alzheimer's Disease. He was in his sixties.
Though I had dealt with the visual needs of patients with dementia over the years, I hadn't really understood the emotional impact on both the sufferer and their family until these experiences.
Statistics are rising. (See Alzheimer's Australia's website). What can I do to prevent it?
There are a few things that may help (though there is no definitive answer). Some I have to work at: better cardiovascular health and being physically active.  Other, less conclusive, factors include: intake of omega-3 fatty acids (I love smoked salmon), use of cholesterol-lowering medications and nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory medications and aspirin (my first port of call for my migraines). Higher levels of education and being 'socially and cognitively active' throughout middle age also seem to reduce the risk.
So, as usual, it seems my grandmother was right. Use it or lose it. I've started doing Tai Chi again, returned to my gardening. I'll continue to puzzle out mysteries, research my stories and I will keep writing.
Now I just have to avoid low lying tailgates.
  1. About dementia and memory loss/Statistics. Alzheimer's Australia.  https://fightdementia.org.au/about-dementia/statistics
  2. AIHW, Government of Australia: Dementia. http://www.aihw.gov.au/dementia/
  3. Alzheimers Australia: Risk Factors. https://fightdementia.org.au/about-dementia-and-memory-loss/am-i-at-risk/risk-factors
  4. Dementia in Australia. Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, 2012 http://www.aihw.gov.au/WorkArea/DownloadAsset.aspx?id=1073742294
  5. Health Direct Australia. Dementia Statistics. http://www.healthdirect.gov.au/dementia-statistics

Friday, May 27, 2016

Photo Friday: Renaissance Fencing

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/27/photo-friday-renaissance-fencing/

If you like Renaissance fencing, check out Andrew Kenner's latest edition of his book, I33: Fencing in the Style of the Walpurgis Manuscript. The second edition (with revisions and corrections) is now available in both a black and white paperback version and a colour hard cover version. The first edition was published in 2014. 
Andrew Kenner is a historical re-enactor and an accomplished renaissance rapier fighter, interested in historical fighting styles. In 2013, he decided to write a book.
Andrew studied the original Walpurgis Manual (MS I.33), a German fencing manual dating back to the 1320s. The original is currently held at the Leeds Royal Armoury. He spent months recreating the style and wrote a manual, with diagrams and photographs, to explain his findings.
I attended the photoshoot for the book and was commissioned to do the artwork.


  gawler church round window13 02  gawler church cathy and steve13 02
   gawler church window13 02  gawler church door photo13 02
gawler william 1302

Research and Final Artwork

   Ch1 Ch3 Ch4 Ch6

The Published Book

 DSC_3824 book
You can find Andrew's author page at LuLu (now available in hardcover). The first edition (2014) is currently available as paperback, via Amazon.
Photos and artwork (c) 2016 Karen Carlisle.
All rights reserved.

Sunday, May 22, 2016

The Original 'Instant' Photograph

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/22/the-original-instant-photograph/

A quick history of photography.
The first successful photograph was taken by Nicéphore Niépce in the mid 1820s. It required several days of exposure (no one could hold their breath that long!) and the result was grainy and crude. Niépce's colleague, Louis Daguerre, took the first photograph of a human being, having his boots shined on a Parisian street (1838). The Daguerreotype photographic process was commercially introduced in 1839, heralding the birth of practical photography.
The early Daguerreotype required the sitter to remain still for anything up to 3.5 minutes, depending on available lighting (sometimes requiring special implements to hold the sitters head in place, as poor Doctor Henry Collins discovered in The Magic Lantern.) The exposed photograph was then developed, in a special box, for several minutes of exposure to mercury fumes. (Not a quick, or very portable, process.)
Things were about to change.
The tintype (sometimes called ferrotype) process was described by Frenchman, Adolphe-Alexandre Martin, in 1853 and patented in 1856 by by Hamilton Smith (in the United States) and by William Kloen (in the United Kingdom).
Tintypes were created by using either the wet or dry techniques - on a metal plate (which was not made of tin but of polished and lacquered iron instead of the glass plate used for a Daguerreotype). Wet method involved exposing the photographic plate while its collodian emulsion coating was still wet. The dry technique exposed the photographic plate after the gelatin coating had dried. Both produced an underexposed image in the emulsion, allowing for shorter exposure times. The tintype could be developed and fixed in only a few minutes.
Reduced exposure times, quicker developing times and (more importantly) cheaper production costs, , gave rise to the street and carnival photographer. Photography was now available to the general public - no longer restricted to the studio and the rich. Welcome to the world of nineteenth century 'instant' photography - the tintype.
The Real Thing.
ITintype_box_copyright2016KarenCarlisle'd done the research. I knew the theory. I wrote about it in my short story, The Magic Lantern. More recently I got to see the process first hand - in real time - thanks to artist Andrew Dearman. And, for this historical photography enthusiast, it was amazing to watch. Let me walk you through the process.
The plates are prepared, and placed into the camera, while ensuring the metal photographic plate is not exposed to light when coating with the wet emulsion or placing in the camera (wet or dry versions). A red-light box helps with that. Andrew's set up allowed me to watch the process. Fascinating.
We sat for our portraits. Exposure time (outside, in direct sunlight) was approximately 14 seconds (and I still blinked!). The plate was removed (again in the nifty red light box). The plate was developed for a couple of minutes and rinsed. That is where I panicked. The plate was still black. Not to worry. This is normal. The plate was then placed in the fixing bath. This is where the magic happens. The image appeared before my very eyes.
All that was left was a final wash and time to dry. The entire process took about fifteen minutes and I have my very own tintype photograph with my Dearheart and a unique experience to add to to the list of writing (and photography) research.TTphotoAndrewDearman2016Tintype (c) 2016 Andrew Dearman.
Other photos (c) 2016 Karen J Carlisle.
All rights reserved.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Fiction Friday: Short story challenge "They Fight Crime"

original blog post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/20/fiction-friday-short-story-challenge-they-fight-crime/

It's Flash Friday. Well technically this is a short story of up to 1500 words. So a bit more than just a flash really. Chuck Wendig's latest challenge, They Fight Crime, was entertaining from the start. Go to They Fight Crime website. Grab a random pairing of characters and write - but they must fight crime. Here is where the procrastination set in. I grabbed mine but kept looking -so many entertaining pairings.
My random pair up was:
He's a sleep-deprived scientist from a land time forgot.
She's time-travelling astronaut from the wrong side of the tracks.
Together, they fight crime!
Here's my offering:
© 2016 Karen J Carlisle
The sign clattered against the railyard fence as Adelaide City shuddered along the track.
Registered Citizens Only
Beyond  This Point.
Connor glared at the city-train as the suburbs thundered along the track, each carriage emblazoned with the area represented by its surviving citizens.
He yawned. There was another ten kilometres before Adelaide City passed. He pulled the thermal blanket up around his ears, pressed his body further into the cluttered corner of the station house and closed his eyes.
A loud boom shuddered the brick walls. Glass smashed on the platform, resurrecting the stench of yesterday’s rubbish dump.
Tomorrow he would look for new digs. Somewhere with less noise. Now he needed sleep. His dad used to count the carriages to fall asleep. Like counting sheep, he said. Connor cracked open one eye and (eyed the loco) through a shattered window caked in three-day old iced-coffee.
Tea Tree Gully, Collinswood, Walkerville.
The rhythmic thunk skipped a beat. Another shudder.
Connor opened his other eye. The suburbs were slowing. Wheels screamed on the metal tracks.
He was on his feet now. He folded up his blanket and shoved it in his backpack. The Cities never stopped until they reached the depot – and then only for refuelling and restocking.
The carriages wobbled and halted on the tracks.
Connor crept towards the station house door.
Muffled sounds of panic rolled along the innards of the Adelaide Central carriage. Vague shadows scuttled along the carriages, plastered themselves against the translucent windows, and recoiled away from the perspex.
Then silence. No movement.
Connor slipped off the platform, picked his way through layers of refuse and squeezed through a ragged hole in the wire fence. He edged closer to the train. The stench of rotting rubbish and manufactured food waste was stronger on the Tracks. He gagged, pulled his sleeve over his hand and covered his nostrils.
The central driver’s cabin was only a few hundred metres up the track. If he could convince the Caretaker, he belonged on the train…
Footsteps crunched on the other side of the track. Connor peered under the carriage.  A pair of trousered feet, wrapped in well-worn silvered boots, stepped into view. Loose leather straps dangled over the double lacing.
He ducked behind a wheel. The Eastern Tracks weren’t a safe place to be. Scavengers raided the dumped rubbish pods – usually after each city had passed. It seemed one of them was curious.
The crunching stopped.
Connor held his breath.
He dared not peek.
Clank. Clank. Clank. Click.
A flurry of cloth crashed onto the gravel next to Connor. He flung his arms in front of his face and cringed.
“What do you want, Scav?” it demanded.
“I’m a Logic, not a Scav,” cried Connor, bracing himself for the inevitable blow.
“A Logic?” The intruder squinted at him through a slit in her face wrappings. Dark eyes scanned his face, his hands, his backpack. Lines formed at the edge of the eyelids. The intruder lifted her balaclava. Her black hair clung to the synthetic, and crackled as she removed her mask.
“You’ll never board the train wearing that.” She chuckled and ripped the Hawking Rocks! patch from Connor’s backpack. “I met him once, you know - before The Blast.”
She trudged along the carriage toward the driver’s cabin. “Come on. I need your help if we’re to investigate.
“You’re a scientist?”
“Was. An astronaut.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “And look where that got me! Crawling back from the wrong side of the tracks, looking for anyone who hasn’t fried their brain cells.”
“Why the Tracks?”
“I could ask you the same thing. It’s like moths to a flame isn’t it? A trained Logic faced with a puzzle – why did Adelaide stop? It’s what they bred us for – our inquisitive nature.”
“It’s what they banished us for,” grumbled Connor.
She turned, her smile gone, and thrust her outstretched hand at Connor. “My name’s Lee, Captain Erin Lee. You can call me Lee.”
“Professor Michael Connor.” He shook her hand.
“Come on, Connor. Keep up.” She turned and strode up to the driver’s cabin, wedged between the Central and Unley carriages. “Keep up.”
“But, Lee, we’re forbidden to board any City, by law. If we get caught --.”
The cabin door hissed. Connor jumped into the engine after Captain Lee/Erin, as it clicked behind them. Lee grinned and handed back his tools.
A mangled mess of metal and wire sat in the pilot’s seat. Dark liquid dripped from its joints and reeked of machine oil. Soot covered the walls and roof. A lanky figure cowered in the corner; the braid on his uniform jiggled as he twitched. He peeked through his fingers and whimpered.
“Please, don’t eat me! I’m just the Caretaker.”
“Why would I want to eat you?” asked Connor.
“Everyone knows what happens to citizens who leave the city. The Tracks are full of flesh-eating Scavs.”
“Sca--?” Connor scowled. “I’m not a Scav.”
“You dress like one,” replied Caretaker.
Connor regarded their reflection in the cabin window. Mud-stained jeans, faded shirt, tatty jacket caught up in the strap of his backpack. Lee didn’t fare any better - a shredded long coat and dusty jumpsuit. He dropped his backpack onto the metal floor.
“I’m a scientist, and I don’t eat people.”
Caretaker’s eyes widened.
“What about her?”
Lee sat on the floor, examining a handful of circuit boards she’d pulled from an open panel beneath the console.
“She’s an astronaut. She doesn’t eat people either,” replied Connor.
“The electronics seem intact.” Lee jumped to her feet and dusted off her pants. “What happened to the autopilot?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Caretaker sniffed and adjusted his jacket collar. “The city just stopped. We’re nowhere near Depot. Head Mechanic said the engine’s been sabotaged and the next city is only twelve hours behind us. I followed procedure and checked the driver’s cabin.” Caretaker pointed to the damaged automaton. “And I found the autopilot like this.” He slumped back against the wall and shook his head. “I’m not trained to fix things.”
“Another puzzle for you, Lee,” said Connor.
Lee grinned, snatched a screwdriver from Connor’s backpack and examined the lock of the carriage door.
“One for their Enforcer,” she said. “I’m where I wanted to be - on a city-train. Now I just need to get through this door.” She eyed Caretaker. “My training tells me you’ll have a key.”
Caretaker raised an eyebrow.
“You’re both trained Logics?” he asked.
Connor nodded slowly. “Are you going to banish us back to the Tracks?”
Caretaker shook his head.
“Our Law Enforcer is dead.”
“That explains why no one stopped us,” said Connor.
“An overworked Mechanic, no Autopilot, no Enforcer. You’re not doing a good job of caretaking, are you?” said Lee.
Caretaker’s eyelids narrowed.
“My job is to ensure the safety of the City. You need sanctuary. I need an Enforcer.” He glanced at the autopilot. “And possibly a temporary pilot. I’m sure a Logic could assume either, or both, roles.” Caretaker dipped his fingers into his vest pocket and pulled out a long silver chain. An electronic key dangled at the end. “Find out who sabotaged the autopilot, get the city moving again and you can access the key to the city.”“
Connor’s eyes followed the swinging key. They would need a job if they remained onboard. He retrieved his backpack and stepped up to the city door.
Lee nodded.
“Enforcers Lee and Connor reporting for duty,” she said. ”I assume you can provide us with necessary documents?”
“We’ll stop by Provisions before I let you loose in the suburbs.”
Caretaker nodded and swiped the card through the lock.
Connor noticed Caretaker’s hand. There were fine cuts on the palm. One fingertip had electrical burns and there were traces of soot under the fingernails.
“Shut the door behind you,” said Caretaker as he scuttled down the corridor.
Connor tugged on Lee’s coat.
His hand, he mouthed.
Lee nodded.
“You finally noticed,” she whispered. “Did you notice the traces of oil on his trousers?”
Connor shook his head. Missed that one.
“He must have wiped his hands after he sabotaged the autopilot. Also, he’s not the Caretaker.”
Connor froze.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“Because I’ve seen the City records. The real Caretaker was thrown off the train five suburbs ago,” replied Lee.
The door clicked shut. Connor stared at her.
“Those experiments you were working on before The Blast…”
Conner’s heart skipped. He hadn’t mentioned what he had been working on.
“They worked.” She winked at him and lifted up her sleeve. An oversized watch with red LEDs blinked at them. Numbers counted down:
“We’ve got eleven hours to obtain documents, defuse the second bomb and nail this imposter.”
Captain Lee strode down the corridor.
“Do keep up, Enforcer Connor.”
(Background: Australia boasts some of the record for the longest trains in the world (see youtube video to get an idea of the time taken for one to pass). This is only a fraction of the city-trains in this world.)

Sunday, May 15, 2016

One Degree of Separation

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/15/one-degree-of-separation/

There's a running joke here: everyone knows everyone in Adelaide. Chances are you will meet a complete stranger - and they will know someone you know. Two degrees of separation.
And it's true!
Last weekend I attended sawriters' first Speculative Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Festival. I knew one of the presenting authors, Sean Williams, but none of my writer friends had booked. I was alone. After taking a long (long) deep breath and avoiding a mini panic attack, I trudged up the stairs and registered.
A vaguely familiar face bobbed in front of me. I had no recollection of where I had seen it, but the memory was there. A past patient? Turns out I met Eleni, many years ago, on one of my stints in the Arts and Sciences tent at the local Medieval Fair.
gillian rubinstein sean williamsWe had lunch (the most mouth-watering calamari ever!), got reaquainted and enjoyed talks by Gillian Rubinstein, Sean Williams, Lisa L Hannett, Jo Spurrier, Tehani Wessely, Ben Chandler, Jason Fischer, DM Cornish and  Tony Shillitoe.
Small world.
One degree of separation.
Sunday I arrived late (after my talk for History SA). I slinked into Gillian Rubinstein's workshop on Speculative Storytelling. (I had apologised to Gillian on Saturday as I would be late.) I sat in the only vacant chair. On my right was Eleni (phew, someone I knew) and a lovely woman who was inquiring about places to start researching 1820 life. I gave her a few websites to start with - census, Boothe's Poverty maps, The Cook and Housewife's Manual - which not only gives recipes but etiquette and hints into the running of a 19th century household.
She thanked me. We spoke about our preferred writing genres. She asked about my interest in steampunk, as her husband did steampunk costuming.  She showed me a photo. It was Fabrice Marre! (Strike two for Adelaide.) I had met her husband last year at the Australian Costumers' Guild Ball and we've chatted costuming since. You can see some of Fabrice's costumes and art on his page: Pointy Ears Creative Studio.
Small world.
Two degrees of separation.
But wait, there's more.
diceThe afternoon workshop was on Collaborations in Spec Fic. I met Sean Williams in the early 90s at a local convention, HongCon. But that is not this 'small world' moment. The workshop was on collaborations - and that makes the moment even more amazing. We did an exercise - roll a dice for a random story - hero, protagonist/sidekick, setting, goal, challenge.
Sean randomly paired up 'collaborators' to merge two random stories into one. Another familiar face:
"Did you used to be Karen Odgen?" he asked.
I nodded (It was my name from a previous marriage).
Penny's in the air...
"Do you remember Cold Angel Comics?"
Penny dropped!
Standing before me was Steve Brice, one of the writers I collaborated with on a comic book anthology - almost twenty years ago! Here we were collaborating again!
steve brice_coldAngel1990s
Small World!
Well, that's Adelaide. And that's why I love it.
Photos © 2016 Karen J Carlisle. All rights reserved.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Photo Friday: Steampunk

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/13/photo-friday-steampunk/

What a week!
Thursday was the Pop-Up Opening Night for Dressing Up Exhibition, part of History SA's contribution to South Australia's History Festival this month. (Boy, what a mouthful.)
BACKGROUND PIC - Copy 4opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
Being a long-term costumer and re-enactor, I was intrigued by the vintage accessories and costumes, including a dress worn by Julie Anthony and an exquisite 1920s wedding dress with feathered detailing.
icon 5opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle georgeopennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy
 1920sweddingdress_copyright2016KarenCarlisle  luggageopennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
Other groups came in traditional costume:
3opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy
A group of Steampunk SA members came along in costume to help promote my talk on the Sunday.
    catherineopennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy 1_opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy (2) back_opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy
8opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy (2) group2_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
group_opennight_copyright2016KarenCarlisle - Copy
Sunday morning we braved road closures, football parking restrictions and Mothers' Day Fun Run stragglers to present my talk on Exploring Steampunk - my first 'general public' speaking engagement (cue stage fright!). Thanks to Catherine Curl and David for taking some photos on the day.exploring steampunk_photo_copyright2016DCarlisle - Copy (2)
rui melissa2 phtoKarenCarlisle
There was a man in the moon, ready for photo opportunities:
  photoCatherinecurl2016 gerald_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
Thanks to Gerald, David, Catherine and Dee for being live mannequins, showing a variation of steampunk styles.gerald buttfield catherine dee jones david
This week's Photo Friday ends with a photo of a photo being developed of me and my Dearheart. A big treat for me - a sitting for a tin type photograph with local photographer and artist, Andrew Dearman. He showed me the process; I watched the image appear before my eyes (reminding me of black and white photography done at school, only on metal! I'd done the research but now I have seen the process first hand).
No wonder it was once called the black arts.
Photos: © 2016 Karen J Carlisle, © 2016 Catherine Curl,
 © 2016 Pauline Cockrill,© 2016 David Carlisle
All rights reserved.

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Camp NaNoWriMo: Mischief Managed.

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/08/camp-nanowrimo-mischief-managed/

April is Camp NaNoWriMo. (more info here for those who don't know what it is). This time I set a goal of 20K words - to finish off three Viola Stewart shorts, make a dent in the novella, Eye of the Beholder, Finish a short story for a steampunk anthology and do some rewrites.
First drafts of the shorts are completed. The novella has only four scenes left to go. I managed a blog posts, short story challenge, Boys and Bones, and All That Glitters was submitted for the anthology. I made my 20K goal (add another 5000 words if you count the research notes I made - yep, procrasti-research struck again!)
What a month! Here it is in pictures:
Fom the beginning...
Working on the novella and comments on blog posts:
novella_copyright2016KarenCarlisle  blog comment_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
Finishing up the short stories:
 shorts_copyright2016KarenCarlisle teacalm_copyright2016KarenCarlisle
Procrasti-research and tea:
And the results are:
april camp stats
Project Stats graphs and winner badges ©2016 NaNoWriMo.
All other photos:©2016 Karen J Carlisle. All Rights Reserved.

Monday, May 2, 2016

On Recent Proposed Copyright and Fair Use Changes for Australia

original post: http://karenjcarlisle.com/2016/05/02/on-recent-proposed-copyright-and-fair-use-changes-for-australia/
Okay, I'll say it now. This is a long post.
Copyright is a bugbear of mine. Many friends have heard my stance on pirate tv/movie/book download sites. And yes, I waited months for Doctor Who and didn't download it illegally (If I was a GOT fan, I would wait also - or pay for Foxtel to view it legally). I also refuse pirated copies of eagerly awaited movies. Illegal downloads only serve to line the pockets of pirating companies and take jobs away from the actual creators.

This popped up on my feed today: http://www.smh.com.au/federal-politics/political-news/productivity-commission-calls-for-free-import-of-books-copyright-shakeup-20160428-goh806.html

On the face of it, the new (reduced) copyright proposals may look like a good deal (for consumers).
However it is only the corporations who will win in the end. Free content for them to earn more money (the reason why I will not write for Huffington post).
It's not just writers, artists and creators who will suffer. Think about it: If your favourite tv show can't earn it's keep, it will be axed. It's happened overseas. It's happened here.


Imagine if all the work you've done in your job was wiped off your record. Long service leave? What experience? Degree? Your hard work doesn't count after five/ten years. It may save the company money but it robs you of income.
What if someone copies your older work and uses it to get that promotion? Fair use? Of course not.
Extreme examples maybe, but this proposal means this to me, to other writers, to creators.

Put yourself in our place. It can take years to write, draw, create. You put your soul into it. It is your career, your job. It is what pays your bills.
Then you are robbed of your income, your livelihood five, ten, fifteen years after it is published. This could apply to any intellectual property such as computer progams.

Good news for Australians? Not really.
Overseas copyright still exists for 50-70 years after the author's death. Why should Australians be disadvantaged? Our work would be available to to anyone who wants to make money from our hard work - like Google (they've paved the way in a recent court case http://theconversation.com/how-to-protect-authors-after-google-books-wins-its-fair-use-case-again-49363 and are poised to make more money of authors).

The video in the original link claims the commercial life of a song or book is about five years. This is old data. With ebooks and long-term online libraries, books can be bought and sold after 5 years - until it is removed from online sale. The writer can earn money on their books until then.
Creators need copyright protection.
Many writers already choose to produce some works as free ebooks or share online - for their readers, for the public. That is THEIR choice. Take away their copyright protection and these (already free to the public) works are able to be snafu-ed by  corporations who can then make money on sharing the same free books online. Take away that choice and how many writers will reconsider their decision?  

I do agree with changes with regards to ORPHAN works - where the author has died, dependents can't be found or works were never published. This won't effect the author's livelihood. But using the same watered down copyright laws to cover living authors is effectively stealing from them. (There's that word again.) At least wait until their dead, please!

How many artists, creators will stop creating if they can't earn (and keep earning). Quality will fall. In the end readers and viewers will be suffer.

This decision has the potential to cost Australians their job and cost the tax payer more in the long term.
Consider this:

The full draft can be found here: http://www.pc.gov.au/inquiries/current/intellectual-property/draft

Please support your local creators so they can continue to create for you.
Have your say here: http://www.pc.gov.au/feedback/publication-feedback

Comments for the proposal close on 3rd June.