Your book bag is empty
Water always runs to the deepest point, to where the land is lowest. For me, the same is true of writing. The words fall into the places that lie deep beneath. I think of them as the 2am places. The ones you usually hide with conversation and movement. The voice in your head that you […]
At the Citadel in deep ponds the koi, like shards of afternoon light, swam at the surface waiting for crumbs. I stood with my eldest son in the rain. Tiny frogs hid in cracks between the pavers while we traced a spray of bullet holes on a wall, the mortar crumbling damply beneath our fingers. […]
My children joke that I interrogate people when I travel. And they’re probably right. I want to know the stories, because one of the things I’ve learned since I started writing is that everybody’s got one. It’s these stories that I travel to find. After all, you don’t travel to another country to learn about […]
A few years ago I decided (the sort of decision you make when blind ignorance and extreme optimism collide) that when my third and youngest child started school it might be fun to do a PhD. I was interested in Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War and the differences between that experience and popular culture […]
© 2019 Margaret River Press / Site by Super Minimal