Literary Fiction
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The Novel
Two years ago, before the universe exploded everything around me, I began two very writerly things. One thing was this blog (and what an absolute gift this place has been to me. Writing and a beautiful little band of friends… Continue reading
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Sad Women (Micro Fiction)
The arm chair she sat in had a wet cat funk to it, but Granny still sat there, day after day, moaning about how Pop never did the dishes, not a day in his whole life. ‘Old men don’t care… Continue reading
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It’s Not A Problem
If you’re a reader, you are about to read a blog post which will echo through the pits of your soul. It’s not a problem, we all know this. But whenever us readers are faced with this sort of conundrum,… Continue reading
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A Friend Of Convenience
Her art is a friend of convenience. It absorbs her. It turns her delicate into raw and beautiful scenes of naked flesh on linen. It turns her hard into lashings of angry black with no recognisable form. The artist removes… Continue reading
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The Happy Driver
Arki was a taxi driver, but in his heart he was a writer. He knew he was a writer because the words never stopped racing in his mind until they were out. Neither did the joyous feeling they stirred in… Continue reading
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Tonight
On the sixth day of Christmas, I craved a feeling. A specific feeling, really. I craved a couch. And a book. And me. All of us rolled up together, where nothing and no one could find us. It’s not like I… Continue reading
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Michelle DeKretser. Melbourne Writers Festival
It was time to tackle a difficult read—a bold move, on my behalf. I’d grown up reading only for pleasure and, up until that point in my life, I’d not felt the need to be challenged by books. Reality could… Continue reading
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Alexis Wright: Boisbouvier Oration, Melbourne Writers Festival
I’ve never read an Alexis Wright, book. Until she won the 2018 Stella prize, I’d never even heard her name. But I can’t stop thinking about the speech she gave at the Melbourne Writers Festival on Wednesday night, and I… Continue reading