writing

opening every door

I’ve blown the dust and cobwebs off this neglected website to let you know that I have joined…Substack!

Open Every Door will, as the title suggests, be a bricolage of content. A bit of everything. Anything that’s caught my eye, occupied my mind or taken my fancy. Some little life updates or some seasonal recommendations - things I’m reading, listening to, cooking, watching, growing, thinking about. Open Every Door is intended to inspire your own curiosity and creative practices. There might also be the occasional bit of self promotion, if I have anything exciting to share.

And maybe I do…..😉

You’ll also get an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at what it’s like to write, re-write and complete a PhD and (hopefully! Eventually!) publish my second book and first novel. Field notes, or a creator’s log, if you will. Analogue. Digital. All, some or none of the above.

I’m not sure what the future holds for this Squarespace blog. I’ve had it since 2013 and would be loathe to shut it down completely. But I am keen to start the second act of my career. Fresh starts are the best starts, as a friend said to me this week.

So, for the foreseeable, if you’d like to know what I’m up to, please come and join me at Open Every Door!

It would be great to have you there ❤️

heavy in my mind like a ripe pear

“As for my next book, I won’t write it till it has grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear; pendant, gravid, asking to be cut or it will fall.” - Virginia Woolf

My PhD novel has been growing heavy in my mind for nearly 20 years.

Its shape has shifted, then shifted again. Then again. And then again once more.

I think it’s ready, asking, to be cut now. But if instead it falls from the branch it has clung to for all these years, I hope it lands in a pile of soft dry grass, where it will be safe from the hungry parrots who have been feasting on fruit still on the trees. Where it isn’t left too long to be picked up, still fine to eat, with perhaps only a tiny bruise or two from the fall to be cut away.

Worse case scenario, maybe it will be scooped up with all the other windfalls and be made into a lovely crumble.

I lit my first fire in the house last week. Picked figs, rhubarb, runner beans, iron-rich greens so dark they are almost ink-black. Made yoghurt. Failed at making yoghurt. Wrote and wrote, deleted, despaired, then wrote again.

The pear will be cut, or it will fall.

tomatoes and third drafts

When I think about the current state of my novel (is it even a novel anymore? That’s a question for another day!), these words of Henry Miller spring to mind:

I had to grow foul with knowledge, realise the futility of everything, smash everything, grow desperate, then humble, then sponge myself off the slate, as it were, in order to recover my authenticity. I had to arrive at the brink and then take a leap in the dark.

Meanwhile, it’s now the start of autumn in Tasmania, which means tomatoes are ripe and plentiful. My parents came round today with a crate for me - they drove to a pick-your-own-farm half an hour out of the city where these beauties were a steal at $2 a kilogram.

I washed and chopped several kilograms of them and was reassured that, even though my mind is a constant whirl of what the fuck am I doing with this novel or whatever it’s turned into and how is this ever going to work, if I put tomatoes, onions, garlic, thyme, oregano, basil, wine and stock in a slow cooker, put it on high for four hours and walk away, I will come back and it will have turned into a thick, rich and delicious sauce. There is also now an open bottle of wine.

writer at work

Last year, I was the grateful recipient of a Residential Fellowship at the Katharine Susannah Prichard Writer's Centre in Perth, Western Australia. I spent two weeks there last August working on my PhD novel. You can read all about my experience here. You will see I still enjoy using the marathon as a metaphor all these years later. But, I argue, it is most apt. In the months that have elapsed since my return the parallels between the two experiences have amplified. I am definitely at the point in the race where it is, as writer Fiona Kelly McGregor put it in A Novel Idea, “a matter of stamina, of technicalities, and of getting the job done.”

Also, Perth in August is lovely! Balmy warm days, expansive skies and an awesome annual secondhand charity book sale that frankly would be worth flying back for each winter, providing one brought an empty suitcase…which I did not.

Onya Magazine: The Best Vegan Eats In Melbourne

My sweatshirt really says it all ❤️ (Naarm is a word in the Woiwurrung and Boonwurrung languages of the Kulin nation which is the Traditional Place name for Melbourne).

Continuing on from my best Sydney vegan eats article earlier in the year, Onya Magazine have just published a follow up - the best vegan eats in Melbourne, the city of my heart. So if you were wondering where we ate and what our favourites were on our last few visits, here they are!

Honestly, I would walk (well, I’d also have to swim some of the way too, gulp!) back to Melbourne for some of the food we enjoyed last time we were there. The city has some incredible plant-based places that are truly exciting, indulgent and very, very delicious. Everything you want when you’re on holiday and feel like spoiling yourself!

The oyster mushroom “calamari” at the Green Man’s Arms, Carlton. Exquisite! Even Tom (who normally hates mushrooms) dug in!

Rereading the article has made me very hungry and wish we could just hop on the 86 tram and head up to Red Sparrow or Brother Bon for dinner tonight. Hopefully our next visit isn’t too far away…