Evil Children in Art (and other tabs I need to close)
I have a terrible habit of leaving about 40 tabs open on my browser at once. Whenever I find something interesting, worth revisiting, or just plain cool, I leave the tab open so that I can look at it again and again throughout the day. Or over the next couple of days. Sometimes over a week. Or more.
Sure, I could bookmark the page, but let’s face it: I’ll click that little star, close the page, and then forget about it. So to ensure that my latest obsessions don’t get obliterated in the Never-Neverland of Lost Tabs, I thought I’d share a few of them with all of you.
First, from Flavorwire, a survey of evil children in art (click ‘view as a single page’ for the best effect). This one has remained open since February 1st because of Ray Caesar’s wonderfully bizarre images:
One day, when there is less writing to do and more time for dilly-dallying on the internetz, I’ll Google him and find out what other treasures he has in store for me, but for now these will have to suffice.
An Introduction to Australian Horror
In honour of Australia Day, I was asked to write an article about Australian horror for This Is Horror in the UK — and it’s now up! The article surveys some of the standout horror published in the past two years by Australian independent presses: so much to talk about, so much incredible talent!
Australia is a land of extremes. One minute the country is ravaged by drought and bushfires, the next it’s drowning in devastating floods. The continent is a combination of enormous red deserts meeting sprawling metropolises meeting ancient tropical rainforests meeting endless coastlines. Some of the largest — and tiniest — deadly predators on the planet are hidden out in the wilds, but are also unearthed in suburban backyards. Over it all, the harsh Australian sun beats down. Casting the longest, darkest shadows.
And right there — right where the glaring light gives way to shade — a population of Australian horror writers thrives. It’s a great position to be in. Looking at stories published by independent presses in the past two years, we find that Australian horror can plunge wholly into the black, even more tragic and disturbing by contrast to the brightness left behind; it can be light-hearted but nuanced, love and joy limned in darkness; or it can tread both worlds, supernatural and terrifying and endearing all at once…
Read the rest here — and enjoy!
Tuesday Therapy: A Word to Remember
A new year has dawned, which has inevitably led to a deluge of resolutions being bandied about the internetz: this year I will write X; I will publish Y; I will conquer the publishing world… Many resolutions focus on the end result, which tends to overlook all the hard work that goes into reaching that outcome. Today’s Tuesday Therapy, brought to you care of Jason Nahrung, reminds us that there may be a tough slog ahead — but hard work is part of the reward.
And when it comes to working hard and coming up with the goods, Jason is an expert. He has worked as a newspaper journalist for more than 20 years, and is also the editor for Queensland Writers Centre’s magazine Writing Queensland. He has served as Director of the Aurealis Awards and has also been a judge on various awards panels — and all this while writing gorgeously dark fiction! His novel The Darkness Within was published by Hachette Australia in 2007 and his latest novella, Salvage, is being published by Twelfth Planet Press later this year. (The image pictured on the left is Salvage‘s beautiful cover art!)
I haven’t been able to think of a nifty quote, says Jason, but how about a word: perseverance.
A carrot or two about writing as capital ‘A’ Art…
A while ago, Lee Battersby emailed to say he was running a series of posts about Art over at the Battersblog, and asked me to contribute to the Treacherous Carrot discussion. And, lo. Contribute I did.
Art and beauty and writing — I could’ve talked about this topic for ages…
In February 1880, William Morris delivered a lecture before the Birmingham Society of Arts and School of Design, which was later published in a book called Hopes and Fears for Art. It was during this public lecture, Morris’s first, that the philosophy driving the Arts & Crafts movement was famously summarised. “If you want a golden rule that will fit everybody,” Morris declared, “this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”
Replace ‘houses’ with ‘writing’ and now read that sentence aloud.
What you’ve just heard is the mantra that whispers through my mind every time I start writing a story — and which bludgeons me when I go to read one.
Gobsmacked.
Jason Nahrung has reviewed Bluegrass Symphony over at ASiF, and whoa. I’m gobsmacked.
It’s hard to single out a ‘taster’ to post here because, well, the whole thing is incredible.
For example… ‘Down the Hollow’ resonated with memories of another great short, Margo Lanagan’s ‘Singing My Sister Down’: here is a ritual involving farewell, horrible to the reader, commonplace to the characters, offering insight into the familiar-yet-foreign society while evoking such strong empathy for its powerless narrator. Hannett shares an enviable trait with both of these lauded writers, in that she relies on the story to do the work. The characters are living their lives; they don’t feel the need to fill in the blanks for the reader. And the reader never doubts that they can trust the writer to tell them what they need to know, when they need to know it – no asides or footnotes or info dumps required.
That faith is borne out in ‘Depot to Depot’, one of my favourites, in which the inexplicable is made clear only in the last scene. In ‘Commonplace Sacrifices’, the narrator is never named nor its nature explained: the situation simply is, and it is beautiful. Such assuredness in the storytelling is what helps makes the world of Bluegrass Symphony so palpable. Words are Hannett’s friends here, too. She knows when the story allows her to show her mettle with poetic description and when such language would be obtrusive. Restraint is not always the virtue of the debut writer, but Hannett understands its power, both in plot and prose.
Like I said. Whoa.
You can read the whole review here, and visit Jason’s personal website here.




