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Kristina Olsson

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as if performing a Laurel and Hardy<br />

routine.<br />

Coming home – 25 years<br />

of QWC<br />

Craig Munro<br />

Speech delivered at the 2014 AGM, to<br />

help celebrate QWC’s 25th Anniversary<br />

I knew these slapstick artists well:<br />

one was an architect and UQP<br />

author, while his mate was a former<br />

academic whose unpublished<br />

novels I had several times rejected.<br />

Gathering up what remained of my<br />

voice, I drew on my full authority as<br />

QWC chair, and ejected them both<br />

from the meeting.<br />

It had been another, less rowdy<br />

meeting in Adelaide several years<br />

before that had inspired me—as<br />

an author and publisher—to<br />

help establish a writers centre in<br />

Queensland.<br />

In 1989, the year after World Expo,<br />

South Brisbane was a wasteland.<br />

As a member of the steering<br />

committee trying to set up a writers<br />

centre, I spent many weekends<br />

driving around the deserted back<br />

streets. My targets were the former<br />

Expo admin buildings—one of which<br />

I hoped might make a suitable<br />

home for our fledgling centre.<br />

Representing the interests of<br />

local writers groups, my fellow<br />

committee members and I wanted<br />

a location close to the CBD and<br />

transport. Although Southbank’s<br />

Performing Arts Centre, Gallery,<br />

and new State Library had recently<br />

been built, the suburb still felt like a<br />

ghost town.<br />

Eventually, the Goss regime found<br />

a space for us across the river at<br />

the back of a century-old public<br />

service building in William Street—<br />

opposite the Government Printery.<br />

Its chief virtue was a good-sized<br />

meeting room in addition to several<br />

offices. For the new staff, including<br />

inaugural director Robyn Sheahan-<br />

Bright, it was also hot and in need<br />

of refurbishment.<br />

I’ll never forget our first AGM<br />

there—held in the unairconditioned<br />

meeting room one humid evening.<br />

Unfamiliar with meeting procedure,<br />

I’d spent days reading up on this,<br />

especially after hearing that a<br />

disgruntled faction might be<br />

planning some kind of coup.<br />

Prior to the meeting, we closed<br />

all the freeway-facing windows<br />

but the room quickly became<br />

uninhabitable—so we opened them<br />

again and everyone had to shout<br />

over the roar of traffic from the sixlane<br />

Riverside Expressway.<br />

It wasn’t long before I’d talked<br />

myself hoarse.<br />

The threatened coup never<br />

eventuated but, halfway through the<br />

agenda, two latecomers suddenly<br />

swung open the heavy green door.<br />

Their entry had a theatrical flourish,<br />

and it didn’t take me long to realise<br />

they were in fact too drunk to let<br />

go of the door. Instead they swayed<br />

there on the slow arc of its hinges—<br />

The Literature Board’s new Director,<br />

Ipswich accountant and poet Tom<br />

Shapcott, had called an informal<br />

meeting during Writers Week to<br />

discuss setting up such centres.<br />

Tom’s meeting was timely, as the<br />

South Australian Writers Centre—<br />

the first in the country—had just<br />

opened its doors.<br />

Like a pair<br />

of Russian<br />

anarchists with<br />

a mutual delight<br />

in demolition,<br />

we pounded and<br />

jemmied all this<br />

shelving off the<br />

walls to create a<br />

spacious, well-lit<br />

meeting place.<br />

I came away from Adelaide<br />

determined to push for a Brisbanebased<br />

centre. Before long our<br />

steering committee began<br />

meeting every few weeks in UQP’s<br />

boardroom on the St Lucia campus.<br />

20<br />

WQ

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