Oh my goth
Seven days in my high-rise flat with punk records, overladen bookcases, and this view of the Melbourne docks.
I tested positive for Covid yesterday. My husband too. We’re doing well with few symptoms, but need to isolate for seven days. And in that slowing down, I have more time for this blog.
The last few months have included…the unforgettable experience of seeing my first book, ‘Voice,’ on shelves in bookstores (my heart, my heart). The unavoidable disappointment of seeing the launch cancelled due to Covid, twice. Fingers crossed for a third attempt.
Teaching again at my language college after Covid took my job last year. Never thought I’d be excited to correct essays again! Falling in love with Shirley Jackson’s amazing novella ‘We Have Always Lived in the Castle’ and tracking down her other books. Having one of my literary heroes and one of Australia’s most respected writers, Helen Garner, judge me the winner of the Strange Days essay competition with my story of my beloved pet snake (confession: I squealed like a teenager when I got that phone call). Being one of the writers commissioned to take part in The Only Question project from Ulyanovsk, Russia, linking UNESCO Cities of Literature writers from all over the world.
Having two of my stories published in The Big Issue here in Australia: one on the joy of exploring foreign supermarkets and deciphering their language puzzles, the other about my goth days and the startling (only to me) realisation that I haven’t really left them. Rehearsing for the Williamstown Literary Festival with my old crew Stereo Stories, pitching for the Melbourne City of Literature project on lost libraries, and applying for another writing residency. After Iceland and Finland gave me such gold, this time I’m reaching for Sweden.
Tonight is Samhain in the Southern Hemisphere, also known as Hallowe’en. In isolation I can’t pick fresh flowers for my altar or walk by Maribyrnong River. I’m happy though with a whiskey hot toddy, an afternoon reading short stories on the couch, and an autumn sunset. Always ready for the wheel to keep turning, and see what stories the new cycle brings.
inkymouth 
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