A Game Of Clones: A pitch to publishers everywhere.

Looking for the next Song of Ice and Fire? Well, fret not, you’ve found it. Here are the forthcoming dozen violent, sexy and confusing time-travel thrillers starring the Tempus Fugitive himself, Justin Thyme. They’ll be written as soon as a publisher gets in touch and waves a massive advance my way.

A few uncensored thoughts about Dorian Gray…

The Picture of Dorian Gray has always been, for me, a disappointing novel. Oscar Wilde is one of my favourites, and his importance should not be under-estimated, but there is a distinct dearth of great works from the man. (There are reasons or excuses for this, and he did die young, I know, I know….

Look, possums, a few thoughts on Handling Edna

Now, I’ve never particularly been a fan of the most famous Australian woman, Dame Edna Everage, but ever since I borrowed My Life As Me from the Reservoir Library I have been a fan of Barry Humphries. So, during Borders’ going-out-of-business sale I picked up a copy of his unauthorised biography of Dame Edna. The…

Malled by Caitlin Kelly … a review

The best place to read this book is a shopping mall. To be more precise, read it in a coffee shop on a public holiday when they run out of the food you want, be pushy and try to con you into buying overpriced food you don’t want which you don’t end up buying, and…

A tale of two Discworld novels, part 2: The Last Continent

Maybe it was homesickness, but with more than a dozen Discworld books on the shelf in front of me, I had to choose the one that is set in a remote, dusty island prison that has a few things in common with ‘Straya. And I loved it.

A tale of two Discworld novels, part 1: Interesting Times

Seldom do I read a Terry Pratchett book and think it is not great. But it does happen occasionally. Reading Interesting Times, a Discworld novel from 1994 featuring that world’s most reluctant tourist (and tourist guide) Rincewind, was one of those occasions. (Fans who are more hardcore than I can start directing their hatred into the comments…

Why the hell am I doing this?

Because it’s there, is the reason people climb Everest. Because I could, was the reason Clinton gave for certain indiscretions. Because it is the pretentious thing to do, was the reason I downloaded Ulysses by James Joyce onto a certain oblong device that can carry ebooks.

Spot the difference …

One of these is a beloved, classic tale about alienation and what it means to be human, written in a time when science-fiction was a genuine analogy for society. The other is Franz Kafka.

Proud to be prejudiced

I am not too proud to say I was prejudiced against reading Jane Austen. Oops, sorry. My mistake. I apologise. Let’s start again.