All posts tagged: reading

From rockstar to writer: the return

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Hello lovelies, how are you all? Having just spent 3 months very focused on my punk cabaret band Mutton, including touring to 5 different venues, and being away from my beloved rainforest home for WEEKS, I’ve had an epiphany! I’m still a writer, even when I’m not writing. Which means I’m also still a blogger, connected to this community, albeit while it constantly morphs into something new. Of course, a writer needs to write, and practice their craft; gone are the days of my thrice-weekly blogging, and the constant commenting and connecting we all used to do here. Part of me misses those days… but they were also a particular time, pre-Covid, pre-TikTok; we are ALL different since then. So I write killer arts grants, for myself and others. I write songs now. I’ve entered a few Slam Poetry competitions, and will continue. I still write in my journal (although not daily). Last month I kinda wrote a love letter. Sure, I’m not published, other than a couple of short stories in anthologies years ago, …

Reaching a milestone: being asked to join a cool Book Club

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Dare I state the obvious? I LOVE to read. One way I resist Capitalism with glee is to lie on the couch buried in a book for a few hours. I’ve always been like that: as a quiet, dreamy child, I was never happier than when lost in the world of a book. Well, actually, playing with our guinea pigs was pretty good too (Lord Palmeston and Lady Windemere- photo sadly not available). So imagine my delight when last Sunday the phone rang, and my dear friend’s husband asked me in his deep formal voice if I would care to join his Book Club? I felt like a kid again, I was so excited. As soon as the invitation began to sink in, I immediately thought about what book I would suggest- somehow I have learnt along the way that this is the protocol. ‘”Girl, Woman, Other”, G, that’s a great book. They’ll think you’re edgy and cool/well-informed. And it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize 2019.’ Calm, succinct words continued to flow down the …

Fiction Friday: Full long version of short story “Roadside”

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  Hello All- I’m posting this Australian fiction short story in its entirety, so feel free to skip this post if that’s not yer thing obviously. Make a cuppa and spend five minutes with Lucy and Eris, as several readers commented that they’d prefer a longer read, to sink into it, so I decided to post the full story. This piece won tiny accolades in several small writing competitions here, although it’s a few years old now. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks so much for reading. In gratitude for words, G xO    “Roadside”- (c) bone&silver 2018 Lucy’s silver waterfall hair tilts when she moves. The tiny peace badge on her jumper glints. She leans like a rusty hinge to stroke the cat, book forgotten. Elegant fingers smooth the purring animal. She always wears gloves when gardening, and marinates in moisturiser every night. Like Cleopatra, she wishes she could bathe in milk. She knows she looks good for her age, but still bristles against seeming ‘invisible’ to anyone under thirty. She can remember …

Fiction Friday: Final part of short story “Roadside”

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Hello All, time for the final part, yay. It’s Fiction, so feel free to skip this post if that’s not yer thing! This piece won tiny accolades in several small writing competitions here in Australia, although it’s a few years old now. PART ONE is here, and PART TWO here, so please read first. A few readers commented that they’d prefer a longer read, to sink into it, so I decided to post a long one, rather than make it another two posts… I hope you enjoy it, and thanks so much for reading! In gratitude for words, G xO    “Roadside”- Final part ‘I can’t believe we have to find a way to live through this.’ She pulls at leaves that want to tickle her shoulder. ‘And I am a nightmare.’ A twig is snapped. ’You don’t deserve this.’ A cluster of leaves is wrenched and dropped, with fresh tears. Around their homemade seat, the plants in her garden push back attempts to contain them. A palette of colours ramble. Daisies nudge native grasses, …

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Living with teenage son No. 33

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Him: I hate it when you wear your hair in bunches like that. Me: Deal with it dude [*rolling my eyes]. LATER Me [rushing in from verandah where I’ve been reading quietly]: Oh my god, did you see that? A bird nearly flew into my head!? Him [without looking up from his book]: I told you, it’s that hairstyle, it makes you a target.