Great Sentence of the Week #12

I love weather: winter sunshine poured out like an oil slick on an ocean of chill air with the suspended odours of simmering bushes and basking rocks; fierce winds that rock the trees, combing the twigs and old nests out of their tresses, tug-o-warring with earth for their roots. Symptoms of Place (Blackman)

Finish this please...

Attention: any writers out there... I was out walking the dog yesterday when these few sentences came to me...

It was one of those days that made me wonder why I bothered. Outside, the sky was the colour of a recipe gone wrong, the air a compound of stale bushfire and fresh dog shit. Thunder overhead. I looked at myself in the mirror, sucked in one last deep breath and.....

Feel free to continue the story, using the comments section. Let's see what you've got....

A new year, Temple writings, and the promise of good reads...

So it’s 2013 already. A year of heatwaves and fire – and we’re only two weeks in. It’s also been a busy two weeks at my desk. I’ve been writing every day, but usually for someone else. I’m hoping that next month there will be time to do some writing for myself. And that there’ll be time to read...

A colleague recently put me onto Peter Temple, specifically his book The Broken Shore, which was listed as one of the top 20 Australian Books in last year’s ABC poll. I’m taking her advice – and looking forward to the read. 2013 also holds the promise of a new book from Tim Winton, and at least one from my friend Mark Tredinnick. And Gents – if you’re out there – I’m optimistic. There are spaces on my bookshelves already.