My latest ‘Longneck’ column for The Melbourne Review is out now, online and in print. It’s on the election, gastro, Kevin Rudd, Arthur Boyd etc etc. You can read it here. As ever, The Melbourne Review is full of good writing. If you’re not in Melbourne, you can read the whole thing on the webpage.
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My latest ‘Longneck’ column is up on The Melbourne Review website (and in the hard copy too). It’s on the footy-chat era the AFL is embarking on … and, on reflection, an amused whinge at a game I’m slowly falling out of love with (although that whole process make take the rest of my life to complete). You can read it here.
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My latest ‘Longneck’ column in The Melbourne Review is out, in print and online. It’s a homage to Jeffrey Smart, the Australian artist who hailed from South Australia and who died recently, and to writer Peter Carey, who before he turned his hand to novels wrote wonderful short stories. Smart’s great painting ‘Cahill Expressway’ is on the cover of Carey’s first short story collection, The Fat Man in History. You can read the column here.
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My latest ‘Longneck’ column for The Melbourne Review is now online – and in print. It’s about the (new) Stella Prize for Australian women’s writing, the Miles Franklin Literary Award and the great, great Australian novelist Patrick White. I would have happily have written a book on this stuff (if there are any publishers out there listening, I’m available) but 700ish words will suffice for now. You can read it here. And you can read the the full issue of the June The Melbourne Review here (with the right plug-in).
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My latest ‘Longneck’ column is now online and in print in the May issue of The Melbourne Review: see here or read the whole issue online here. This month I’ve taken a tasteful and respectful look – of course – at the new Pope’s twitter activity, and at the devoted and, um, not so devoted responses it elicits.
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I have officially ‘retired’ my ‘Sort of but not exactly’ column in The Melbourne Review, although like Black Caviar it may not stay out to pasture forever. My new column, ‘Longneck’, debuts in the February issue, just now out: I’m running for high office (not really). You can read it online here, or – to witness me sharing a page with the legendary Dave Graney – read the full issue on The Melbourne Review site here or, God forbid, in the paper and ink edition.
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I’ve had two pieces of fiction published this month, both available online for free.
My short story, ‘At Rothko’, is in Issue 12 of the Kill Your Darlings journal. You can read it here but take some time to check out the whole issue here. Quite a lot of it is online, including a wonderful essay by the wonderful Jill Jolliffe (I’m a big fan, can you tell?) on returning to East Timor. Kill Your Darlings is a journal doing terrific things in an important market, so think about supporting them by buying the issue or taking out a subscription. Literary journals will save the world, not a doubt about it.
Over at The Melbourne Review, an extract from my nearly-finished (no, really) novel Potatoes In All Their Glory appears in the January edition. The piece is called ‘It’s a dry heat’ and you can read it here. Check out the website while you are there, lot’s of great writing.
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My December ‘Sort of but not exactly’ column for The Melbourne Review is now online – an open letter to Santa Claus. You can read it here.
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My August ‘Sort of but not exactly’ column for The Melbourne Review is now published. This month a letter to my (now just born) unborn daughter. You can read it here.
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Roky Erickson: Live at Barrio, Adelaide, Australia. It was pretty shambolic. The sound was a mess and, especially, the crashing waves of multiple guitars consistently drowned out Roky’s voice. They butchered ‘You’re gonna miss me’ and never got around to ‘I walked with a zombie’ (although that might have been the fault of the little bloke who appeared out of nowhere to demand they leave the stage so they could come back on for their encore all before 9.30pm when the venue went from paid-only to free, but why they couldn’t have just played for another half an hour regardless if they felt like it is anybody’s guess) (or maybe they just didn’t feel like playing ‘I walked with a zombie’ but I sure felt like hearing it).
But, anyway, ignore all of the above. I loved every second of it. It’s the best dodgy concert I’ve seen since The Pogues in … maybe 1990.
On the evidence of this show, it’s hard to know how Roky Erickson’s voice is holding up. But it’s only a couple of years since he released his wonderful album, True Love Cast Out All Evil. The older songs – whether 13th Floor Elevators or solo stuff – are seminal but True Love Cast Out All Evil is as good as anything he’s ever done.
My latest ‘Sort of but not exactly’ column in The Melbourne Review is an open letter to Roky Erickson. You can read it here.
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