Truman Capote likened the finishing of a novel to taking your child into the back yard and shooting it. As a parent, I’m intrigued by the mind that could have created that sentence. Still, I take his point. I was all but undone by the completion of my previous novel, cried for days, became physically ill. Wracked with grief for what I’d created and destroyed. But not with this one. This one felt more like letting go of a red balloon. There was that sense of loss, but also elation. I’d seen its shape from the beginning, knew from the moment I conceived it, that it wasn’t mine to keep. They never are.
Honoured to be listed in the novel category along with literary friends Angela Slatter and Maria Lewis, and so many other cool folks across all categories. Looking forward to Conflux in a few weeks.
It’s true! In case you don’t believe me, here is the picture of the trophy, along with my Shirley Jackson Award nominee stone. Couldn’t be more grateful to the Aurealis Award Committee, and all the folks who had a hand in Collision’s success, from (especially) my wonderful agent, Matt Bialer, to Meerkat Press for getting…
I am teaching Hamlet. This is a first for me, and it has given me a chance not only to revisit the play, but also Almereyda’s messy, masterful adaptation (2000); and one summer in my own life when the time felt most terribly out of joint.
Read more at The Nervous Breakdown.
Done and done. For now. Lucky to have readers I trust, mothers in arms and combat veterans. An adapted excerpt picked up by Spinetingler, coming out in April.
The great thing about having clever friends who send you their work is that you get to read it ‘in the raw’, half-baked and oozing with promise and hope and so much life that you will remember the joy of reading it in this state—as a .docx or an attachment or as half-toned pages smeared…