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Today I found myself without any forms of entertainment while on public transport, so I settled back into my seat to have a good, long think about some of the issues currently affecting my life. After mulling over some topics that have come up in conversation recently with friends, I had one of those moments where you realise that you've discovered ( Read more... )

I'm currently writing a kids' book about a zombie, and I'm trying to decide what to name him. Or rather, I'm trying to pick a new name for him, because it's probably bad form to name zombie after political figures, however apt the comparison may seem, and even if the name does seem to suit him. It probably doesn't help that he's rather lovable as ( Read more... )

On Monday I received an email from Maxim Jakubowski telling me that he's accepted my short story "The Mercy of Strange Men" for his latest anthology The Mammoth Book of Erotica 6 (a title chosen because it's a large anthology, not because it features erotica about mammoths. To the best of my knowledge). This is the story that won Palmprint ( Read more... )

The first time my father's pack-a-day Benson and Hedges habit ever benefited me, I was nine or ten years old. B&H were running a promotion whereby when one bought a carton of their cigarettes, one received a compilation CD of classic rock hits. Since my father has always been the kind of person to buy in bulk wherever possible (our visits to my ( Read more... )

I have a tendency, when talking, to suddenly forget most of my vocabulary. This is particularly the case when talking to someone I don't know well, which is an unfortunate side effect of never having outgrown shyness but being way, way too old to hide my face in my mother's skirt. Mostly I cover this up by babbling, which is sort of my only defence ( Read more... )

I had a good day, but just thinking about everything I need to do to replace what was lost when my wallet was stolen on Friday, plus the fact that some scary freak now has all my details, makes me want to cry. I am feeling somewhat tearful as we speak. I think I shall go have a poor-me cigarette ( Read more... )

If there's not a website featuring mature-aged people engaging in watersports, and if it's not called Golden Oldies, then that matter really ought to be rectified.

Now that I've officially finished at Monash, I feel like it's time to say goodbye to the place that, for better or worse, has been such a part of my life for the past five years. I have this kind of tremendously loving ambivalence towards it, which doesn't make any sense but means that my feelings towards it are at least cohesive with the rest of ( Read more... )