So yesterday I had a spare moment to myself and I thought, hmmm now might be a good time to do a couple of jobs on my laptop, printing invoices, maybe even some nanowrimo words – living large! as I do – but as I walked into our walk-in-robe/work nook I saw this: Let’s not forget…
This post was supposed to feature scanned photographs of our first apartment in Melbourne. I still remember our first night, hopping onto a late plane from Sydney, knowing virtually nothing about the city we were about to live in and knowing virtually no one in it. On arrival, I instructed our taxi driver to a…
Melbourne folk, on Friday 12th November I’ll be at the Future Writers’ Festival in the afternoon, talking on a panel about writing and the Internet. The list of guests for the day is impressive. Do come along! Then on Sunday 12th December I’ll be at the NSW Writers’ Centre as part of the ‘Everything You Need to Know…
Where we were sitting What we were sitting under. We had a discussion this morning about what kind of trees they were – young oaks? Poplars? Our tickets allowed us access to one of the stands and this is where we stood to watch the big race. The horses on the track are the first…
My poem ‘At the Park’ has been published over at Verity La. Some of you may remember it won an award last year, and now those of you who’ve been wanting a read – can! If you have any questions, the last link talks a fair bit about the writing process, but if there any others let me know….
Found: Dorothy Porter on Keira’s desk. Past reading company: Helen Garner, Overland (Riley)
I first saw the link to this video over at Facebook the other day, and since then I’ve seen it popping up on various blogs. I’m not surprised. I think it’s amazing. Maybe you will too.
(Feed readers may need to click through to see the video) Sure, its been around for a long time, but what can I say? The classics never age. And it really did win a Hugo – I only found that out this week.
fashion faux-pas for dad Your socks are pulled high (mid-calf) It’s hard to distinguish between the gradients of white; where cotton ends and skin begins Varicoid veins are gathered behind your knee like posies of blue flowers You turn, sit, open the broadsheet pages crossing your legs, make a table for your newspaper snort phlegm…
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