Yes, I’ve been away from the website for a little while. School holidays, then not-school-holidays, and family stuff, and the whole relief teaching gig, and you know, one day I find ten years have got behind me, no-one told me when to run, I missed the starting I seem to have become distracted……
One thing I have done, is to be interviewed by the talented Karen Lowry. Karen, a super Perth poet, has just finished writing her first novel, and we chat about world building, verisimilitude, writing habits, and just whether a sense of community is all it’s cracked up to be.
You can read the whole thing here.
Cartoon psychiatrists. Bless ’em.
“How would you feel if I suggested that this brains fixation you’re manifesting
has something to do with your mother?”
I suppose any large organisation has its own ridiculous traditions and superstitions, but let’s be honest, religion starts with ridiculousness and superstition, and builds from there. Transubstantiation– the idea that the wine and wafer is transformed, purely by belief, into the body and blood of the person they purport to worship– is not openly ludicrous, it’s downright creepy.
Still, nobody ever said lunacy was a bad subject for comedy…… (Also, I have no idea why the priest should be 15 feet tall. Thanks, perspective!)
“These home brand wafers always taste slightly like Simon-who-was-called-Peter to me.”
Aliens are funny. I’ve a whole collection of books devoted solely to science fiction, space, and alien cartoons. The truth that we all avoid, as SF fans, is that the entire genre is, essentially, ludicrous. Sometimes it’s nice to stop being so damned serious about the whole thing, and scribble something silly.
Clearly, I was also very sick of being remotely talented that day……
“I’m full, but it’s so delicious I just can’t stop picking!”
It’s the school holidays, and even though we are, by and large, skint this time out, there’s still time for the odd lunch out. Yesterday we hauled out to Port Samson, a seaside enclave roughly 50 kilometres up the coast, for the best fish and chips in the region, served on a balcony overlooking a wide sand flats and beach. We packed a couple of notebooks and some pens, and while waiting for our lunch, Ms 16 introduced us to a version of the Narrative Corpse writing game. You know the one: you write a paragraph, fold the page over so that only the last sentence can be seen, pass it to the left. At the end, you unfold your sheet of paper and read the odd little story that you’ve all created to much ribaldry and general hilarity.
Continue reading “BETWEEN THE ORDER AND THE LUNCH”
The song follows Charles O’Connor along the beach, as it has followed him for nearly ten years. His horse is nervous, tugging against his lead as if ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Charles tightens his grip, nudges it ahead. He knows their destination.
The Mothers wait at the water’s edge.
Water Song is a 3800-word supernatural story centred around CY O’Connor’s suicide. It’s part of the Claws of Native Ghosts project, a collection of historical horror stories set throughout Western Australia’s history that I’m slowly putting together, and which is a key project I hope to complete while we’re here in Karratha. I wrote the first draft way back in July of 2017, as part of my Katharine Susannah Prichard Writers Centre residency (remember that?). Now it’s finally finished, and sent out into the marketplace.
Next stop, Broome, and the Japanese bombing of 1942…
Flipper sucked, dolphins are bastards, and tuna tastes good. Get over it.
“Now, remember, your motivation is to stick the bomb under the ship…”