What I’ve Been Up To
September 11, 2020
It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated this page, mainly because editing a webpage takes me away from writing and makes me grumpy, but I’ve had some good news in the last two months that I’d like to share.
Jean Harley was Here has been optioned for a 7-part TV series. As part of the Queensland Writers Centre’s and Screen Queensland’s Adaptable program, I was given an opportunity to pitch my last novel to screen industry professionals (though virtually, as opposed to in-person at the Gold Coast Film Festival – unfortunately, thanks to COVID, my schmoozing dream shifted just a bit). Stephen Lance, Mairi Cameron and Leanne Tonkes are as excited as I am to resurrect Jean and spice her up for the screen, and it looks like I’ll be doing some co-writing, too. So excited to learn on the job. Watch this space!
2021 will see the publication of my next poetry collection, Alternative Hollywood Ending, through Wakefield Press. The chapbook of Trump poems I began as a coping mechanism at the end of 2016 has turned into a book critiquing ultra right-wing populism and highlighting concern for climate change, racism, sexism and all the other topics that seem to dominate my everyday thinking (you guessed it, a slathering of illness-related poems, too). It’s been an amazingly toxic yet highly progressive few years and with this collection I intend to join forces with other artists asking ‘what can we do?’ Make art. Keep on making art.
2021 will also see the publication of a book I’ve been working on, very on-and-off, for nine years (!!!) called Rhymes with Hyenas, through Recent Work Press. Imagine if famous female protagonists who were written by male authors transcended chronological and geographical barriers to come together through a poetry group in Adelaide. The book is a hybrid work of emails and poetry that gives a female voice to the following women: Ursula, the group’s organiser who questionably quotes directly from her text, DH Lawrence’s Women in Love; Caddy, from Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, up to her breasts in mothering and homesick for her exiled Mississippi; Melanie, the minimalist who only writes for herself, from Coetzee’s Disgrace; Delores, made famous by Nabokov’s Lolita – she’s a spoken word artist interested in turning her stage poems to page poems; Katherina, just starting out as a poet and doing so out of pure desperation, from Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew (neither she nor Delores answer to their given nicknames of ‘Lolita’ and ‘Kate’); Lilith, from Hebrew mythology, who writes in sonnet suites about her late lover Eve. Together their poetry shows what complex, WHOLE characters these women are, while the epistolary narrative told through their emails considers the place of writing, critiquing, reading, performing and publishing poetry in a woman’s space, particularly in an Australian space. I know, right?
January 14, 2019
I’m beginning this new year by continuing work on three projects: a novel about an Australian couple who fall apart after getting caught up in a gun massacre at the Guggenheim (which is emotionally heavy and spinning me out), an illness narrative about living with Meniere’s disease (which is a chronic illness that literally spins me out) and poetry responding to how dangerously ridiculous and ridiculously dangerous Trump is (and he is undoubtedly spinning us all out).
At the beginning of 2018 I was the Writer-in-Residence at the JM Coetzee Centre for Creative Practice, where I began researching and writing my new novel manuscript, The Guggenheim. You can read a bit about it here.
Have you heard that Vincent van Gogh might have had Meniere’s disease? Being an inner ear imbalance disorder, the vertiginous strokes in his paintings and the fact that he cut off his own ear could make sense, but after much research and having lived experience of the disease, I don’t believe it. Still, interesting fodder for a novella! You can find mine in this issue of the Griffith Review‘s Novella Project:
The novella is part of the larger illness narrative I’m working on, which so far includes essay and poetry as well. But is it a memoir? I still haven’t worked that out. Here’s one of the essays from TEXT:
I love thinking about the kind of work illness narratives do and I’m passionate about adding to the cannon of its literature. I’ve been to Oxford and Reykjavik to present at conferences on illness narrative and form. Here’s an adapted version of one of those papers – I rewrote it for the Sydney Review of Books to talk a bit about Shaping the Fractured Self: Poetry of Chronic Illness and Pain, which I conceived and edited and which just might be the most important work I will ever be associated with.
If Trump hears the words, ‘You’re fired’ this year, will I stop writing poetry about him? It’s not really about him; I’m not damning him but his world-vision, and I will continue to do so. He’s made me a more proactive poet (but I won’t thank him).