What do you see?

I read for the times a book transports me in the way Ready Player One did. For me, this book was seamless and filmic -- and synchronous, because my real and made-up worlds have a habit of colliding. Mere weeks before reading, a midnight google of "What did Roberta Williams do after Sierra?" led me …

Water dragon.

It was ink dark outside when the contractions started but I waited until 5am before waking him. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I’m sure!’ I said. ‘Could it still be prelabour?’ ‘These are no Braxton Hicks. And they’re getting closer together. I’ve been timing.’ He had good reason to ask: my prelabour had gone …

Stocktake.

<10,000 words from a first draft. Five days from finishing my PCWC residency. Four days from PCWC's Publication Event. Three days from my last workshop as Writer in Residence. Three children and one husband forgetting my face. Two consultation appointments to book. Two days until applications to be a part of a 2019 writers' festival …

The sendings.

There is nothing like clicking the "Send" or "Submit" button to thrust you into a whitewater rush of doubt and self-criticality. Even dread. That's what I'm experiencing, anyway. After three years of hitting that 100-plus rejection target, I find my pain is not so much in the rejections, but in the sendings. I think it's …

New directions.

Lately I have been experimenting with pictures, sound, and video as storytelling tools. Part of my process has resulted in completely new works; some of it has involved enriching stories already posted on this blog. I'll share these works with you in future posts. For now, I invite you to revisit past posts with fresh …

Counting blessings.

These past few weeks, I have been counting my blessings. In a writerly sense, this year has already brought me a shortlisting and publication of four short fictions. Later this year, I will be a Writer-in-Residence at the Peter Cowan Writers Centre, thanks largely to my 2017 FAWWA residency and my refusal to be genre-bound. I …

Word magick.

It's a bit like Rumpelstiltskin, isn't it? While everyone else is sleeping, you channel ideas into golden threads, weaving them into stories and settings. Because writing fiction is a mysterious act. Being able to conjure entire worlds, let alone characters and plots, from beyond one's own mind is a kind of magick. "Writer" seems an …