Today I was pleased to discover that the amazing fiction writer, Mr Neil Gaiman, has his own online blog (I guess an offline blog would be pretty useless, wouldn’t it?). It’s at journal.neilgaiman.com for anyone who’s interested. For those who aren’t, read ‘The Ocean at the End of the Lane’. A children’s book for adults is a way I’ve heard it described, but it hardly does it justice. I pretty much inhaled the book one weekend, rarely coming out of the story for food, sunshine, or human interaction… Continue reading
The vast majority of the writers I have contacted about the Letters to My Ex anthology have embraced the concept right away: it’s about women and connection. The letters are written to an unnamed, often male recipient, but it’s not about men at all.
A friend recently suggested it might be best to spell out the ‘what’s in it for me’ factor. Since I’ve had a few people write to me asking about payment (there’s no payment), I’m going to address this perfectly reasonable question. Continue reading
Putting ourselves out there, particularly with our creative work is scary for all of us. Perhaps it’s because when we are being creative – and I’m using the word very loosely to include any form of self-expression – we are completely vulnerable and leave ourselves open a world of criticism. Continue reading
I don’t know what to do with my hands as I stand at the door and wait to meet my idol: writer, legend, Phillip Herns. I switch between holding them in front of me and placing them in my pockets. I’ve never noticed my hands this much before, they’ve never seemed this cumbersome. Continue reading
I’m not sure what I’m going to blog about this week.
Sometimes, the only way to figure out what to write is to start writing. This is the stuff writers’ workshops are made of – “free writing”, they call it. It’s where you unleash all your hidden thoughts onto paper, often surprising yourself with what comes out, writing about topics that you hadn’t even noticed were lying dormant, deep in your subconscious.
First published in Orange City Life, 23rd March 2017
Popular author Kim Kelly talks about anxiety, grief, love and kidneys… all of which have formed the narrative of the woman she is today.
Google the words “Kim Kelly Author”, and you’ll find a range of interviews from Sydney Morning Herald to Goodreads to ABC. Each of them will tell you Kim specialises in historical fiction and has published a stack of highly-regarded books (the current count is 6 novels), that she’s also an editor, and a few even mention the fact she gave her hubby one of her kidneys.
It’s kind of disheartening when you delve deep enough into physics to come to the conclusion that free will can only be an illusion. We think we have a choice: we feel conflicted when we choose where to live, what to eat, or which pair of socks to put on of a morning. But much like the flow of time, which seems to be so undeniably real and linear but is not, our free will may be nothing more than an illusion.
It’s funny how we answer the question of who we are with an answer of what we do.
I’ll never forget the well-educated guy at a party late last year, who shook the hand of the man beside me, kissed the cheek of the lady, and did not so much as nod in my direction. He was standing right next to me. Continue reading
Perhaps I’m slightly evil, but I always enjoy an article that manages to walk the fine line between complimenting the interviewee, and letting their true personality – even when negative – shine through the piece. The reader is left feeling that the takeaway from the story is their own, rather than one enforced on them by the writer.
Today I spent half my day spring (or winter) cleaning my bedroom. Already a fairly neat room, this meant going through cupboards and examining everything with a harsh do I really need this? viewpoint. Being a bit of a closet hippy, the reason behind the big clean-up was to shift old non-physical energy, by clearing out physical junk. Perhaps all in my head, but if it works, does it matter if it’s a placebo? Continue reading