Writers

  • Darling Day 3. Beautiful.

    Darling is a beautiful word. It sounds like a hummingbird bird, hovering sweetly in her field. It feels like a little bell that rings away the muck of a muddy day. There are words that I know. And there are… Continue reading

  • Romeo and Juliet

    The kids and I have just had lunch and I’m lazing about on the couch, enjoying the most beautiful warm Sun. I thought I might write a blog post. So here I am, telling you about how I was thinking… Continue reading

  • Rainbow

    Is this a rainbow I see reaching through the collective heart of the dreamers? Wide eyes open, lovely dreamers. You were made to shine the most beautiful lights on the world. Continue reading

  • Books and Reality

    I’ve had thousands of best friends and hundreds of mortal enemies. I’ve been married a hundred times and divorced a hundred times more than that, probably. I’ve had lovers aplenty, built homes, mucked stables…and all this time, I’ve insisted I… Continue reading

  • Words

    Words roll in and out of me like breath. I can’t imagine not reading and writing, just as I can’t imagine what it might be like never to breathe again. Sometimes the words I write make no sense to me,… Continue reading

  • Books Vs Social Media

    I’m reading again. I’m reading a lot, actually. My goodness, it’s all the lovely things. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read for all the years books went missing from my life. I blamed it on the quick and… Continue reading

  • The Best Thing I’ve Ever Written

    I’ve just deleted it all. On purpose. Five whole paragraphs of the BEST thing I’ve EVER written. We do that sometimes—us writers of words. When ‘the force’ flies through us with alarming ease and grace, and we just know this… Continue reading

  • Butterfly Catcher

    I was born to be a catcher of butterflies. Pass me my net and I will show you the joy and the wonder that lay sleeping in your bones. Continue reading

  • 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

  • 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