Latest news with #Ripper
The Advertiser
6 days ago
- General
- The Advertiser
A ripper race to find Australia's hardest-working dog
Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax." Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax." Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax." Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax."
Perth Now
6 days ago
- General
- Perth Now
A ripper race to find Australia's hardest-working dog
Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Cobber (@cobberdogfood) The Cobber Challenge pits farm dogs in a three-week competition that tracks their work output. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax."
West Australian
6 days ago
- General
- West Australian
A ripper race to find Australia's hardest-working dog
Ripper the tan-and-black kelpie is the very model of man's best friend. The two-year-old is "a freak" when it comes to working sheep, an agile and clever pup who gets the herd moving like a dog beyond his years, owner Daniel Pumpa said. "I'd be absolutely stuffed without him," Mr Pumpa told AAP. The bond between the farmer and his four-legged offsider runs much deeper than their work on a property near Yeoval in central western NSW. Ripper is the offspring of Mr Pumpa's beloved working dog Turbo, who died suddenly in 2024. "I did go off dogs for a bit after losing Turbo - (Ripper) was there to pick up the pieces," Mr Pumpa said. "If you don't have a bond with your working dog, you're not going to get the best out of them." Mr Pumpa, also a respected trainer, fondly remembers life with Turbo, including competing in the national Cobber Challenge three times. The Cobber Challenge pits farm dogs in a three-week competition that tracks their work output. The three-week competition uses GPS collars to track the distance, speed and hours clocked up by farm dogs as they work livestock. Nominations for the 10th challenge opened on Tuesday. Ripper took the mantle from Turbo for the 2024 competition, covering 322km over 30 hours and coming in fourth place. A dog named Bear from Dirranbandi, in southwest Queensland, won that challenge, notching up 570km while farmer Tom Perkins mustered 4500 ewes. Mr Pumpa said the competition gives farmers valuable data about how hard their dogs work. "You know your dog is doing a big day, but once you see he's done 30 to 40km in half a day it allows you to rest and manage them a bit better." Working dogs have captured Australians' hearts in recent years, with their skills showcased on the ABC TV show Muster Dogs. Driven by their intense herding instincts and energy, working dogs are increasingly an alternative to hiring labourers amid shortages in the agriculture sector. Dogs are also helping people in the cities better understand country life, Mr Pumpa said. When he hosts demonstrations in front of city audiences, many ask whether farmers are forcing their dogs to work. "If a dog doesn't want to work, it's not going to," he said. "These dogs, they love it, and that helps us prove that we're looking after our animals, whether it be dogs or sheep or cattle." Turbo's dad and Ripper's grandad, a 14-year-old red kelpie named Benji, is testament to how much the dogs are loved, even in their twilight years. Benji, long retired from the paddock, spends his days in bed or playing with a little Jack Russell companion. "Old Benji, he's an absolute dude of a dog," Mr Pumpa said. "When they've done the hard work, they deserve to chill out and relax."
The Advertiser
24-05-2025
- The Advertiser
How a childhood crisscrossing regional Australia has shaped my crime novels
Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her. The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months. My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it. We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended. More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas. Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books. I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre? There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works. When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt. One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap. "Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW." I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award. There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice! I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious. I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places. One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine. My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood. Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish. I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways. Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me. I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home. Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her. The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months. My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it. We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended. More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas. Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books. I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre? There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works. When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt. One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap. "Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW." I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award. There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice! I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious. I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places. One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine. My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood. Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish. I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways. Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me. I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home. Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her. The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months. My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it. We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended. More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas. Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books. I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre? There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works. When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt. One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap. "Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW." I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award. There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice! I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious. I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places. One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine. My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood. Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish. I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways. Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me. I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home. Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her. The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months. My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it. We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended. More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas. Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books. I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre? There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works. When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt. One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap. "Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW." I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award. There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice! I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious. I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places. One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine. My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood. Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish. I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways. Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me. I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home.
Arab News
03-05-2025
- Sport
- Arab News
article page
Joaquin Niemann was virtually flawless Sunday, firing a 6-under-par 65 at Club de Golf Chapultepec to earn his third championship of the season at LIV Golf Mexico City. Niemann began his day two shots off the lead, but three birdies on his first seven holes put him in an enviable position. He added birdies on Nos. 10, 12, 16 and 18 to finish three strokes in front of the field at 16 under for the tourney. The win came in front of family and friends. 'Yeah, it's special,' Niemann said. 'My mom came all the way. I think the first time my mom has seen me win, so that's pretty cool. So yeah, I had my mom here, Didi, my wife, my friends, my team. It's been a really good couple months, so yeah, happy.' The Torque GC captain from Chile had one bogey, on the 14th. Following his third tournament win, Niemann remains in the lead for the individual season-long championship, a title that narrowly evaded him in 2024 as he finished second to Jon Rahm. He also locked in a spot at the US Open in June. 'Yeah, it's nice,' Niemann said. 'I feel like I wanted to be there (at the US Open), so yeah, it's great to keep doing what I'm doing, hitting the ball great, making putts, and yeah, hopefully keep it rolling.' The 26-year-old was barely pressed late, with the best charge coming from the incredible round turned in by Ripper GC's Lucas Herbert, a 10-under 61 beauty that featured an eagle and eight birdies. Herbert essentially ran out of runway to complete the comeback, coming into the day too far behind the leaders to catch up. However, he did help Cameron Smith's (72) Ripper squad finish in second in the team standings, behind Jon Rahm's (68) Legion XIII. 'Just one of those rounds where everything comes together,' Herbert said. 'I thought I played pretty decent the last two days, I just didn't get many breaks, and I just felt like today every time there was a line ball sort of thing I got the right kick and I'd make a putt where I needed to or just anything — just that sort of stuff. It just kept the momentum going through the round. 'Look, I played great, really enjoyed feeling everything I felt the last few holes, but it's just one of those rounds where it all just clicks for you, and it was a pretty cool feeling to do it at an event like this.' Bryson DeChambeau, leading the pack coming into the day, was attempting to go wire-to-wire but came up well short with a final-round 71 and had to settle for a tie for second with Herbert at 13 under. Rahm was fourth among individuals at 12 under, while Smith and Legion's Tyrrell Hatton (68) finished in a tie for fifth (11 under). 'It's pretty hard to make it more special than this moment right now,' Niemann said. 'I mean, this place is amazing. It was a good battle with Bryson, with Cam, so I'm happy to be in this position right now.' Torque finished the tournament in third place, while 4Aces was fourth.
