The Real Me

The Real Me

When you’re trying to impress a buying public one writes all sorts of formal things to introduce the writer. Here is where you read about the other Meredith Resce. Though I’ve been married now since 1983 and have not lived on the farm in all that time, I am still a farm girl at heart. You know the old saying, ‘you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl’. That’s me, much to my husband’s chagrin. I was bought up in the farm yard literally, mainly because I much preferred the cow yard, horse yard and shearing shed to the jobs I was likely to be given if I remained indoors. Fashion and I didn’t meet until I was about 17, and then we didn’t get along very well. We still...

Recent Visit to My Cora Villa

Recent Visit to My Cora Villa

After nearly twenty years we have returned to another season living in Victoria. Last time we were stationed in Geelong and this beautiful house was the inspiration behind the story ‘Cora Villa’. Just after Christmas our long time friends from Geelong invited us down from Melbourne for the day. We took a walk along the foreshore – the setting for ‘Cora Villa’ and we made a special stop in front of the house. The following piece is found at the front of the novel, and gives you some insight into how the story came into being: From 1989 to 1994 my family and I lived in the Victorian city of Geelong. This was my first real excursion outside of my own state, and I very much enjoyed the culture of this compact little city. We were working...

The Progression of “The Manse”

The Progression of “The Manse”

  I had been toying with writing for about three or four years, and had hand written about six novels, that, despite a huge effort to interest publishers remained mouldering in the filing drawer at home.  Then, one cold winter’s day, my husband and I travelled out to a small church in the Victorian countryside, to conduct a wedding. I played the piano and sang for the wedding, but as soon as my job was done, I’m afraid my mind and imagination was taken up by the little blue-stone church whose very walls seemed to call out to me. It was as if some romantic and dramatic story had taken place, and I needed to know what it was. Of course, that was just my imagination working over time. But from the day of that wedding onwards, I could not get that little church...