Tuesday, September 29, 2009

QWC Blog tour

Where do your words come from?

I read. This is how I ingest words. I have always read. The more you read the more the words become a part of your palatte. You can colour with them. They become richer with the years. You don't need more words you just need more ways to use them. All colours can be created using three colours. All stories can be made with simple words.

Where did you grow up and where do you live now?

I live in a tiny flat. Too small to think in. I go out into the world to give myself space. I grew up inside four walls and I wished, always for the outside, for space and quiet and privacy. I grew up in the arms of loved ones. I now live in the arms of loved ones. I am lucky and have been. Always.

What’s the first sentence/line of your latest work?

It keeps changing. At the moment it is - At some point he turns the light off. - this may not be the same tomorrow.

What piece of writing do you wish you had written?

I wish I had written The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides. It is perfect.

What are you currently working towards?

I am working on a novel, the novel. I want to birth a novel out into the world

Complete this sentence… The future of the book is all in the content. The content will not change. A good story is always a good story. I don't care what shape the vessel comes in. All I can tell you is it won't be a choose your own adventure. It will be a perfectly constructed story. No games, to gimmicks, to bells and whistles. This is the thing that is sure and true.

This post is part of the Queensland Writers Centre blog tour, happening October to December 2009. To follow the tour, visit Queensland Writers Centre’s blog The Empty Page.

Hyperlink: http://www.qwc.asn.au/Resources/TheEmptyPageBlog.aspx

Monday, September 28, 2009


Right now I cannot imagine a time when I will not be as close to you as I am now, but that time will come. Life is relatively long and I have lived too much of it to think in terms of forever. This is a time that I will move on from. One day it will be long gone. If you cut the trunk of me there will be this time, with its particular colour like a stain. If you fell me you will be there. Immovable. Unshakable.

But on a day to day it will seem like you were never there.

I mourn now, in advance, because I believe I will not be able to bare the mourning period. But we bare up. I do, at least, and it seems to me that you have moved on unscathed, finding me in the moment of our meeting like a fond memory.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Sex on the Book Tour

Ethan. Surprisingly, China, because I thought I wouldn't be at all moved by him. Rosemary and the Museum of sex in London. Wells because of the Brown Coast and because he read without ego and seemed personable. Anna for her upturning nose and her talent and her eye of the storm comfort. Christopher. Ever, Christopher because of the incestuous brother love thing and the way that Leesa looks at him now. Angela because you are in my skin, looking for words to tip you over into. Clive, for understanding and for kindness. Bec - vicariously living out the dream for me. Cate, just because she is in her body solid on the earth in a way that catches in me. Michael and Michael for butting up against that line and almost stepping over it. Steven for your wide eyed terror and your freshness and the beer. Chris because you are undeniably and without a doubt. Kirsten for your tentative steps in the same direction as mine. But oh, Maria. Really, dangerously, Maria. And the itch on the back of my neck from where I might be bitten and carried weightlessly. Maria in he palm of one hand. Ethan in the other. Twin poles, equally tempting for such opposite reasons. Then Anthony. Finally and forever. Anthony.

And that, was the tour. Summed up, and with an emphasis on sex.