One of the greatest gifts a writer can give to themselves is time out of the chaos of daily life to Just. Write. Oh yeah, I’m talking about a writing retreat. It was at a writing retreat at Phillip Island between lockdowns that I finished a huge draft of Summer, in...
Just like a gazillion other students over the course of history, I studied Wuthering Heights in Year Twelve. I freaking loved the heartbreaking story of Cathy and Heathcliff, their doomed love but I also really loved how Bronte used landscape as a character to drive...
Many years ago, when my cherubs were but sparkles in my eye and I was slogging away at my writing dream in the cracks of life around work, I sat in a panel session at the Melbourne Writer’s Festival (when it was at the Malthouse Theatre, that’s how old I am!) that had...
I’m a sticky beak: can’t deny it, and shan’t even bother trying. Certain things grab my attention and make a peek behind the curtains, a glimpse behind the scenes, a thing of delight. I’m talking specifically about that journey from a glint of an idea through to a...
Like many writers, I have no shortage of notebooks. A glance at my bookcase suggests I have three blank notebooks ready to rock, and I know that in my stationary pile hidden behind doors there are at least five more. On my desk, there’s my week to a page diary that...
Write what you know. It’s advice that’s shelled out to aspiring writers as ubiquitously as ‘read’ or, more infuriatingly, ‘write every day’ which is right up there with ‘just fold it in, David.’ Like most overused pieces of advice there’s some elemental truths to this...
