This is the beginning of a story – the opening ‘note’ of a story about Matilda, a young girl whose life becomes entangled in the life of the orphan king, Edward VI. This story takes place during a time in English history that never quite happened. Here are some things … Continue reading →
As you probably already know, in a recent act of outstanding idiocy, the new Premier of Queensland withdrew funding for the Queensland Premier’s Literary Awards. Plenty of people have posted detailed and intelligent responses to this outrage, while I’ve been offline, so I won’t add my indignant restating of their … Continue reading →
Loving a child is a dangerous thing. I think I knew this at the beginning, with my first daughter, when they laid her in my arms. But then again, not really. You can know things and not know them at the same time. I don’t know how this can be … Continue reading →
It’s strange, being a grandmother. though possibly not as strange as being a grandchild.
An extract from my work in progress has been published in the latest issue of Kurungabaa, alongside some great fiction, poetry and non-fiction. There’s an essay by Chris Morgan called ‘Surfing with Camus’, poetry by e e cummings, John Egan and Gail Willems, and some great writing on surf, sea … Continue reading →
It’s hard to pinpoint the beginning of a new work, but here’s an attempt to do so only a little while after the thing has put on flesh. Three things: From David M Carrolls’ Following the Water: A Hydromancer’s Notebook: “They say that the Sufi is always looking for his … Continue reading →
I, like everybody else, have a certain fear of heights and I have to be very careful when I am in the clouds but it is also what I love, it is my domain, so when you love something you don’t have fear. Philippe Petit (1949–) Recently, I completed a … Continue reading →
I’ve been quiet of late, mostly because I’ve been working fairly steadily to get a draft done. Trying to stay ‘in’ the novel by touching base with it every day as I work through the first draft (not the zero draft). I’ve needed to do this for a lot of … Continue reading →
Lots of people speak about the difficulty of translating the first line of Rilke’s Duino Elegies, perhaps because it’s so well known (Wer, wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel/Ordnungen?). It’s a little like the opening line of Don Quixote, which can be used as a litmus test … Continue reading →
From the morning’s pages, unedited: The driveway is littered with blossoms knocked out of the canopy by the rain. The trees make a different sound in the rain, not rattling their limbs and leaves, but shirring, whispering like wet silk skirts. I knock on the door and hear her call … Continue reading →