This piece was first published at Reflex Fiction.
Showing up to 2021 two days late with some beers
Happy New Year! To everyone who has visited following my overusing the word “thing” on RNZ, welcome.
Taking myself seriously for a moment
When it comes to taking myself and my writing seriously, I both do, and don't. Like a cat bringing you a mouse. I'm leaving words on the doorstep of the internet, and then when you stumble across it, I'm sitting six feet away conspicuously washing my paws.
This Machine Kills Fascists
This piece was first published on Love in the Time of Covid Chronicle
Wanna come listen to me read things? Course you do
Of the many things which have been royally stuffed up by covid, the ones that I hadn’t actually anticipated were Book Events. Mostly because prior to covid, Book Events had not been a huge part of my life, except for when I went along to the Auckland Writers Festival. This year was set to mark … Continue reading Wanna come listen to me read things? Course you do
A pretty good month
To say that I am bad at promoting my work is a massive understatement. I always feel incredibly awkward whenever I try to talk about what I write, and where it's been published. Of course, at the same time I am still a writer and thus crave attention and feedback and validation all the time. … Continue reading A pretty good month
Reasons why I called in sick rather than go to the mihi whakatau for new employees last Friday
This piece was first published in the July 2020 issue of Flash Frontier
Let’s call the whole thing off
So, the year 2020 continues to disappoint. Lockdown the second occurred the day before I was scheduled to do a reading of my piece in Ko Aotearoa Tātou, which I was looking forward to. I was also supposed to be having a job interview, and to be part of the sideline team for the Blues … Continue reading Let’s call the whole thing off
Promise to meet me at the seventh stream where the waters run away to the sea
“Stop picking.” My nails, cut so short that the tips of my fingers are red-raw, cease trying to lift away the scabbing at my elbow. I know Mother is waiting for me to say it itches, so I keep quiet. It doesn’t itch, not really. Instead it is a tightness; my skin feels like there … Continue reading Promise to meet me at the seventh stream where the waters run away to the sea
The months I might have stolen
There’s a line that is currently in one of my stories which is going to be removed from that story because it doesn’t fit. But I still like the line, so I’ll put it here instead. Gaps gilded in the magic of the hours I stole with you. That’s how I feel today. I’m waiting … Continue reading The months I might have stolen