JC Inman to be interviewed
March 7, 2016
The photo above by Adam Thomas shows me being interviewed by JC Inman. Monday at Smith’s, (aka TODAY!) I’ll be interviewing JC Inman. So that photo is doubly relevant.
Come and see Josh talk about his poetry, writing, life, eggs that also talk, and a few other things. 7pm at Smiths Alternative, Alinga Street, Civic ($10). He will then read and/or perform some poems. There is also an open mic, and a bar where you can purchase good stuff.
Photo: Adam Thomas CC 2.0
UPDATE: And a good, and even interesting, time was had by all.
Paths Into Inner Canberra
April 1, 2015
Here is the cover of the Pocket Book that has just been published by Ginninderra Press of South Australia. God, I am sure that the woman on the cover can ride that bike fast. (I am lying.) The photo was by Geoffrey Dunn, as is the one of the cockatoo below.
The essay inside in bejewelled with poems, and discusses the bikepaths of Canberra, cockatoos, what we mean when we speak of nature, turtles, and has more than a little memoir throughout.
It can be purchased from the woman on the bicycle, or from Ginninderra Press, for $4, plus postage, which will be modest too.
Paths Into Inner Canberra: my next publication
March 6, 2015
I am having an essay published. Yes, in prose, with two bonus poems. This is happening in a wee pocketbook to be called Paths Into Inner Canberra. The publisher is Ginninderra Press, based in South Australia. It is part of a new series they are publishing, called Pocket Places.
In the book, I describe riding a bike through Canberra along the bikepaths, and the wildlife that one can see, such as cockatoos and turtles. It is part memoir, part philosophical reflection (that’s a very little part) and part evocation of aspects of this city that I love.
The lovely photos have been taken by the very clever and cool Geoffrey Dunn. Here is one that the publisher chose not to use, which I quite like.
How do I obtain this wonderful book, I hear you cry? And is it true that it costs only $4?
In answer to your first question, I will post a link when it is available. Or if you see me in Canberra, enquire direct, buy me a coffee (or a beer or wine, if your accountancy skills are delightfully bad) and one will be your own to keep. To quote Willy Loman ‘That is a one million dollar idea.’
In answer to the second: Yes. Plus postage.
I am very happy that this essay is being published, although I should probably call it creative non-fiction, or extended haibun, or something clever. Does anyone write essays anymore?
Galaxia Fairfaxia: The Journey on the Good Ship Review
March 1, 2015
The Stars Like Sand: Australian Speculative Poetry was just reviewed for the Sydney Morning Herald, Canberra Times and elsewhere. A lovely review by Peter Pierce, which states that the book is a ‘splendid anthology, that entertains from start to finish’. Adjectives such as ‘enterprising, unusual and rewarding’ are used, which is always a good thing, providing retrospective solace to editors on their long trips through the unknown reaches of the poetic universe*.
Seek out the book here, or, if necessary, through those on-line bookstores.
You could even ask a physically constituted bookstore to order it for you, you intrepid little time traveller you.
*’Poetic universe’ is here defined to mean Australia; a small solar system on the outskirts of the English Andromeda.
Look what I found at the beach…
February 6, 2014
This is a small version of the cover for The Stars Like Sand: Australian Speculative Poetry (Interactive Publications), which should be out in late April. Click for a better look.
Not a bad piece of flotsam. Or is that jetsam? No, they were the cartoon characters who lived in a perfect American future, weren’t they? With nifty jetpacks?
When all this egregious specpo is over, I am going to read a novel of such staunch realism that you wouldn’t read about it. With a plot so heavy it would drown you, if you read it on a lilo floating on a pool.
Unless, of course, it was a hover-lilo. Now there’s the ultimate personal transport device. I sneer at your pathetic jet-packs, American cartoon people.
PS Cottier 