Man or monster?

Most of my books contain strong, capable women like Roxy Parker and the Finlay sisters, but a recent radio interview got me wondering: If they were marooned on a desert island with a bunch of strangers, how would they react? Not very well, according to the Aussie co-author of a new book called No Mercy: True Stories of Disaster, Survival and Brutality, Eleanor Learmonth (with Jenny Tabakoff; 2013).

After studying dozens of real-life Robinson Crusoe-style scenararios, they came to the horrific conculsion that most of us turn into immoral, vicious monsters when the chips are down a la Lord of the Flies. And that freaks me out.

I don't know about Roxy and Alicia, but I like to picture myself as the Goddess of Calm in a crisis. I was voted School Captain back when I actually thought that mattered. I have long stood up to bullies and am rarely afraid of authority or taking a risk (within reason). I am fairly pragmatic, an articulate negotiator and have more than a dose of common sense. With that in mind, I like to think I could help lead the troops through days and days of food rationing, stress and emotional despair to ensure we all get back home healthy, happy and alive, and preferably in one piece.

In your dreams, suggests Learmonth. In a recent ABC Radio National interview with the peerless Richard Fidler (do interviewers get any better?), Learmonth explained how research proves that humans are more likely than not to discard all of our humanity, destroying the weak (gobbling them up for good measure), battling for power and generally turning into beasts. Forget 'women and children first', it's 'every man for himself'. It's not a pretty picture but there is some hope.

Learmonth did cite one inspiring group who managed to survive a ship wreck with good, elected leadership and the power of purpose (keep everyone busy and there's less chance of misbehaviour, apparently). She goes on to suggest other survival tips if you do find yourself stuck with salivating strangers, and they make such good sense. I'm thinking I should print them out and keep them with my passport, just in case.

This sounds like a fascinating read, more chilling than your average thriller, and I'm adding it to my Christmas Book Gift List this year. You might want to check it out yourself. But in the meantime, just hope you never have to put your mettle to the test. You may well be disappointed.

Happy reading!
xo Christina

Why switching off switches you back on

I've been travelling through Europe for the past five weeks and put myself on a deliberate cyber diet. No blogging about my latest books, no trawling through Facebook or posting tweets (#CALarmer), I didn't even take my Kindle (shock, horror). For 34 glorious days, I got back to the real world. Family close by, I strolled, marvelling, through the cobbled streets of Paris. I delighted in the buzz of Barcelona and the snow dipped alps of Mt Pilatus in Switzerland. I swam in the Mediterranean and ogled the Mona Lisa, my disappointed children beside me ("But, Mum, it's soooo small!"). I ate fresh Greek squid and drank cherry beer in Brugge, and I had little more than my journal and a few well-thumbed paperbacks for company (Harlan Coben and Kate Moran if you must know).

And it was clearly just what I needed because, one night, around day 28, I had an epiphany.

I was lying in bed listening to the wind howling outside our cosy villa in Santorini when it came to me, in a whoosh—the key to a book I had been struggling with for many years. Dubbed Greek Expectations, this is the story of a woman's journey back to a small Greek island in search of something she left there many years earlier. Problem was, I could not decide what it was she was actually searching for. Well, I had an idea, of course, it was the whole reason I'd started the story a decade ago, but it was clearly a crap idea because I could never get very far with the story before I laid down my proverbial pen and moved on to other projects.

And then, that night in the Greek Isles, it all made sense. Of course! That's what she's looking for. Suddenly, miraculously, I had the whole novel crystal clear in my mind, and it was invigorating. It still is. I can't wait to throw out my old, muddled draft, and start anew.

I struggled to sleep after that—plotting novels is never good for insomniacs—and promptly jotted the plot down in my travel journal over an icy frappe at Perissa Beach the next day. And then a calmness descended. That night I slept like a baby.

I don't know, now, whether this tantalising plot line came to me because I was travelling to fresh and enthralling lands or because I had taken a much needed break from computers and the internet. I assume it was a little of both, but I know for a fact that there's nothing more enriching for the mind and soul. Whether we're creative types or not, but especially if we are, we all need time out from our ordinary, busy, noisy lives. We all need time to enrich the mind, nourish the imagination and be still, even if we're doing it trudging through the Louvre or towards the Acropolis. Or simply sitting in our back yard and doing nothing at all.

Sometimes you just need to stop staring into a screen to see things more clearly.

I can't wait to get started on Greek Expectations (#2). In the meantime, happy reading ... (and thanks, Santorini, I owe you one).

xo Christina