A mixed blog; Gough Whitlam, writing, and my inner bitchy-chick

I cried when I heard Gough had died. It surprised me that I cried. I only met Gough once when I was about 9 or 10. It was the town opening of Coleambally, where I grew up. Dad was shire president, and he and Mum were hanging out with the … Read more

12,000 words from virgin novelist

Yes I wrote 12,000 words today. Well almost, somewhere between 11,500 and 12,000. Won’t mean much to anyone other than writers. But lets just say it’s a lot, almost sick. I started at 4am and tapped away till just before 1pm with a few wee and tea breaks and a … Read more

An ordinary day (a gunshot at the end)

I wake when the sun comes up. Even if I want to sleep in there’s too much light coming in through the shower curtains. That’s not a desert metaphor. The curtains on the eastern window are shower curtains and keep out the moisture but not the light! I pretend to … Read more