Rumours of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Well.  Maybe not greatly.

I’m still alive and kicking, although I have been in something of a writing funk, which extends to this here blog.  I’ve been trying to decide what I want to do with the space I have here, and all the answers I can come up with point to making this less of a personal blog, because hey, the old liferoonie doesn’t offer up that much blogging fodder.  But, thanks to some serendipitous events, I’ve got a bit more focus happening now, so I think I’ll aim things in that direction.  The direction?  Books, and sex.  And books about sex.  So we’ll see how that goes.  Best to follow your interests, I find.  I’ve been thinking for a while about doing some sort of writing page for my erotic fiction – not necessarily posting it (although maybe?), but having a place to sound out ideas about sex and sex writing.  This idea has crystallised somewhat in the last few weeks, since I got a gig as the new sex columnist for Voiceworks magazine.  My first column, on the joys and shittiness of bisexuality (everyone’s favourite trendy sexuality!) will appear in the forthcoming issue, Rat Race, which should be out soon.

In personal news, I am now happily living in sin.  Stuart moved in to my little house at the end of 2006, and has not stopped whingeing about how inconvenient it is to be living in a suburb, rather than smack-bang in the centre of the CBD.  Viz:

Stuart: God, I can’t believe how long it takes me to get to work now.  Nearly half an hour!

Me: Oh, you poor baby.  But surely the benefits of shacking up with me outweigh the commute?

Stuart: Yeah, I suppose so.

Me: Thank you darling.  I feel so very treasured.

And this from someone who grew up in the heart of suburbia anyway.  Pfffft.

We have been adopted by two neighbourhood cats, one of whom is a gorgeous but grumpy old thing called Cecil, who hates nearly everybody and talks too much.  I have found my soulmate.

In other news, I’ve got a couple of stories appearing in Got a Minute?  Sixty Second Erotica, edited by the lovely and scarily prolific Alison Tyler, provided my contract got to her in time.  You see, I also lost Beastie, the crotchety old laptop that liked to pretend it didn’t have a hard drive, in mid-December, and lost access to Thunderbird.  For some reason, Horde decided to only receive some of my emails, so the first I knew of the contract was a polite email from Ms Tyler asking if I’d sent it back yet.  Gulp.  Oh well, fingers crossed I suppose.

Back to school next week for more writingy goodness, which reminds me that I should probably decide on some subjects quick-smart.  Oops.  Hopefully this year will involve less drinking and crying (or maybe more drinking, but without the crying) than last. 

So, tumbleweeds blowing through here, what’s new with you? 




2 Responses to “Rumours of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated”

  1. Bryan Says:


    Something new to read on my first bloghop of the day (perhaps because I don’t have anyone further up the alphabet ladder than you linked in my sidebar).

    I like the idea of gearing this toward your writing. Not that your personal life isn’t interesting, but damn girl, you need to get out and do more if that’s what you want to blog about. Plus, it will sound more legit when I explain to Mum that the intergalactic hussy I link to really is an author and not just some girl who gets pictures of hookers from around the world sent to her by her boyfriend.

    Glad to hear you’re not dead.

    – – Bryan (part of your secret following in the US)

  2. adam Says:

    hey, welcome back! and congrats on the voiceworks gig. couldn’t think of a better &c &c.

    Next time Stu complains about half an hour to work, tell him about your mate from Chewton who works in Melbourne and sits on a train for TWO HOURS in the morning, every morning, between 6.30 and 8.30.