My Book: The Weirdest Passages Thus Far

The book’s nearly done. 50,000  words and counting. It should be nicely rounded out and wrapped up by about 60,000 words if nothing goes wrong (which it definitely will). I mostly write from the State Victoria Library, far and away the most magnificent library I have ever come across, and a truly inspiring spot. However, when sitting in the cavernous domed hall, with green reading lands and oak tables and the hallowed quotes of literary greats carved into grand white marble plaques, it feels quite odd to be writing the kind of story I’m working on.

On any given moment, somebody gazing idly over my shoulder as I type may encounter any manner of situations; perhaps macabre, perverse, dizzying, ridiculous, or most often, all four at once. Well now, just for you -because I do so cherish you, you handsome devil you – here you are. Here lieth a collection of some of the most backward, bloated, bombastic and plain fucking bonkers passages I have found myself writing to date. You lucky thing.

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Melbourne: Catfish and Sealions

It’s been busy here in Melbourne, although I’m struggling to write this dairy at the moment as recently I’ve found myself worrying about what people might think of me, rather than writing anything honest or real. I don’t want to be dishonest, yet I fear to present an unsatisfying narrative – because as I have said before, contentedness doesn’t make for a particularly riveting read, and content I am. And so I generally compromise and write nothing. It’s a strange thing I find myself doing now, then: posting an article into a very public sphere, with an introductory caveat explaining how very shy I feel. An odd dichotomy indeed, but there it is. Olé! Continue reading