At last, the
detailed report of the panel discussion on the “Fathers” theme. Yes, it’s lengthy, however, it needs length to cover the hour and a quarter or so of talk, readings and song properly, IMO.
When introducing Damien, the convenor, Alan Close (writer on men’s issues) said “I hadn’t realised that before you were famous you were a chemist”, smilingly. D said “
It’s well known that drugs and music go hand in hand”. That raised a hearty chuckle from the smallish (around 150) but enthusiastic early Sunday morning crowd.
Alan Close began the chat by saying that he believed that “under-fathering”, or the absence of fathering was the unifying theme in all of the authors’ work, as I noted earlier.
Larissa Berhendt responded by saying that she had “a good and close relationship” with her father, but he had had a flawed relationship with her mother. She wanted to write her novel to explore, fill in the blanks as it were, about her father’s life which she did by fictionalising those areas she knew little about. She did know that he was a child of the removal policy. He’s lived on the streets; he’d been in the navy. He was destructive to the women around him. However, she said that in writing her work she began to understand him better and felt it was a cathartic experience for her. He had never read her book “Home” because he passed away before she finished it, hence “Legacy”, the sequel, became necessary, to further explore what his life had meant for her...and her future.
Damien was asked how RJ related to his life. He answered that it was not autobiographical, he had done a little too much of that in “One More Time”, and he had wanted to remove himself from the story. He said his own relationship with his father was excellent, but whilst
“watching the boys, juggling nappies and a guitar” he began to speculate about what would become of his sons if he was unable to father them adequately. He wondered if they’d go down the wrong path because of his failure. He decided to explore that theme in his writing, to face his fears. He set the story in Ireland, a place he knew, against the background of The Troubles, a dramatic era, because he’d loved history, especially the history of Ireland and had studied it. He said that of course he had no first-hand knowledge of it, he
“struggled to remember when he was ten” 
but his father being from Belfast helped to give him some background. He said the story also showed how we all want what we think is a better life, but the “grass isn’t always greener elsewhere”. Our troubles come with us.
Alan asked him where his characters came from, if he knew people like Dave, Mattie’s Dad. He said, “
Yes, Ireland is known as a country that likes a pint or two” and he’d known people, or heard stories about people like him. He then said that Dave’s main problem is that is not good at talking, he couldn’t deal with his problems, his traumas (ie Steven) and that exacerbated his problems. He said that Dave was definitely the embodiment of the absent father and he’d wanted him to be flawed, imperfect, to investigate that theme.
Kim Cheng Boey then talked about his compilation of essays and poems about his father, who was a gambler and an alcoholic, who ‘popped up now and then” and took his son on long rambles showing him the “old”, vanishing Singapore and talking to him about life. He used to wonder if his dad was going to ask him for money or if his friends, who were like him, would. Although a bonding experience, it appears these walks were not always comfortable for younger Kim.
Kim was reluctant to write this work, he was afraid of exploiting his father. He said once he overcame that fear he realised in his explorations that his Dad had made him a better father now by showing him how life is tenuous and vulnerable and that you need to appreciate it. He then read a gorgeous, moving poem about his father’s ashes. Tears welled in my eyes.
David Carlin spoke next, about “the story that wasn’t allowed to be told”, his father’s suicide when he was only six months old. He said it was never, ever discussed, “the silence just went on and on”. He wrote “creative non-fiction”, in which he filled in the blanks with speculation after gathering as much evidence about his war-veteran father’s life from those who knew him. He read a passage about the man he may have been, talking to another incarnation, whilst travelling on a train across the Nullabor to enlist, at the tender age of 19. Alan, the convenor, asked him how he felt about projecting himself into his father’s story. He answered that “in his mind, his father is always young, and by speculation he can fill him out, but yes, possibly with his own thoughts”. He said that he had often thought when young if his father were to return, he would “make me complete, tell me what to do, he would lead me” but he realised that some children have both parents who can’t do that for them.
I enjoyed this discussion, each participant was quiet and thoughtful, giving careful consideration and weight to their answers, as, each in their own way, they talked about the exploration of grief, loss or fear that their writing about fatherhood had brought about.
Then the convenor asked for questions from the audience. A lady came to the mike and begged D to sing DB, “as it was a highlight last year”. ;D D obliged graciously, explaining how he had grown to love the song after despising it in Ireland, as he began to understand it's meaning, which is interpreted as a parent talking to a child by most people. He sang it beautifully, so achingly melancholy, so sweetly, the audience were hushed and reverent, their soft collective breath held just for a moment. Warm, enthusiastic applause followed and we were done.
The crowd adored it! ;D
And how exciting about the crime fiction story and recording in the US! 
) I wish I was there too. We'll keep an eye out for the article. 
errrrrr checked all my gf's 
but loving the genre...I think D's very good at it 
