At night I sing to her. She’s not here yet but I sing anyway. I got a girl and that girl is pretty. I put the pillow next to me and give it a tight hug and imagine her giggling. I met her eight days ago over the Internet. That’s how things work now. I heard about a guy who met his soul mate on a dating site and now I’ve met mine too. The things she types to me. Do I want her? God, do I want her. Do I love her? God do I love her. At night all I do is lie in bed and think about her mouth and what it will feel like on my mouth. I think about the warm dark I’ll find there. I write to her and try to keep the begging from the page. I tell her about the cab I drive all day only to end up in the same place as where I started. Tell her about the dead end roads that fill this town. Tell her about the bottles I got lined up on the kitchen window and how the light makes them glow. How I never had anyone to tell things to before her. I sat and thought them and then let the thoughts disappear. But now there’s her. I want to lie next to you and listen to your breathing, I write. And when she doesn’t write anything for a minute or two I think I’ve ruined something. But then she tells me That no one’s said things like that to her in a long time. That’s hard to believe I write because you’re beautiful. I’m forty-eight and you’re thirty and the pictures you sent make you look like a model. What do you see in me? She says I see ahead. That’s what I see too, I write. And she asks, Do I want to marry her? God, yes, I want to marry you. She writes Send me the money then, for the ring and for the dress. How much? I ask her and she says A thousand dollars send me a thousand dollars and I’ll come and we’ll marry. I write down the post office box to send it to and we make plans. We make plans for when she’ll come. And I lie awake thinking about her mouth. And all the things I’ll hear from it tomorrow.

(sometimes) life sucks

even though the sky is covered in clouds that look like highways

even though a friend makes you a cupcake

with your name written across the  top in pink icing

it still sucks

slightly less

but still

it sucks

even though a million people call

just to say hello

hello you say

but it still sucks

even though a little bird sits near your window

and hums your favourite Nick Cave song

and wears a jaunty scarf that has blue dots on it

it sucks still

because sometimes

that’s just the way

life is

(sometimes) life doesn’t suck at all

even though a giant gorilla jumps out at you

from behind a tree

all you say is hello mr gorilla

and you walk on

life doesn’t suck at all

even though all the birds are humming songs that are in the top forty

and none of them are wearing jaunty scarves

even though the postman delivers you a few bits of junk mail and a bill

even though the phone only has telemarketers on the other end

it still doesn’t suck

at all

because sometimes

that’s just the way life is

there
was
a
time
when

I
did
not
even
know
that
you
existed
at
all
you were a yellow button on a yellow coat
I did not see
until you hung by a thread and
fell onto the ground
a little yellow button on green grass
a button sun
a sun button
a button of sun
that had fallen out of the sky
how lovely
i thought and sewed you onto me
i could think of nothing else but how lovely your yellow looked against my dark blue sky of coat
how I had existed without a button like you before?
when you caught my eye you looked like a flower in my lapel, a daisy, a lemon, a tiny bottle of sweet fizzy drink
and sometimes I would lean down and kiss your buttery face
i was so distracted by your existence that one day i almost drove my car into a lake
some days i didn’t notice the blue of my coat anymore
all I saw was your yellow
and
then
you
came
loose
and
I
do
not
remember
where
Or
when
you
fell

Here are some pics of the afternoon…

The lovely Gabrielle Wang who launched my book – and did a beautiful job. And there’s me next to her.

This is the fabulous cake my friend had made for the launch. Creative Cake Art did such a good job.

It was chocolate mud cake and I ate far too much.

I love this shot of Gabi.

And you can read here at Food for Silverfish blog a really lovely comment on Graffiti Moon.

Photographs taken in Hosier Lane

So. Graffiti Moon is out in the stores. And to celebrate…

I took a picture of it sitting in the window of The Younger Sun.

And I’ve recorded a little from the beginning of the novel – a little from Lucy and a little from Ed. Click on them to listen.

Lucy Graffiti Moon

Ed Graffiti Moon

And this is where Ed and Lucy live

And these are some of the artists they talk about through the night

Jeffrey Smart

Sam Leach

Vermeer

Mark Rothko

Pablo Picasso

René Magritte The Lovers

Rosemary Laing

Michael Zavros

Bethany Wheeler

Ghostpatrol

and I think this is very

very

beautiful

From the blurb

I saw Estelle for the first time that day.

She stopped outside our place and stared into the bare branches of the footpath plane tree. First checking there was no one nearby she turned slowly around and around, framing her view of the twig-snaggled sky with a hand held to her eye.

Then she walked into the house next door, half dizzy, smiling, and carrying my heart.

There’s this sky she likes.

Fourteen-year-old nerd-boy Dan Cereill is not quite coping with a reversal of family fortune, a mother with a failing wedding-cake business, a just-out gay dad, and an impossible crush on Estelle, the girl next door.

His entire life is a mess, but for now he’s narrowed it down to just six impossible things.

Why I love this book…

When I was a kid there were books that I loved so much that I wanted to be in them.

I thought about the characters for weeks, months, years after I’d finished reading.

Six Impossible Things is a book like that for me. I fell in love with Dan and Fred and Lou and Estelle and Janie and even Jayzo. The voices are original and real. The dialogue is sharp and funny.

This book is full of insight and wit and sometimes sadness. But it’s a sweet kind of sadness – sweet in the best possible way.

I love books that make me think about what it is to be human, about what it is we’re all doing here. And this book does that. It made me wonder about the attics we all have inside us – places where we keep things we long for, places where we collect and store the things that get us through.

In my attic I’ve made a place to keep Six Impossible Things.

This is a picture from Fiona Wood’s book launch last Thursday night. I had  a most lovely time.

Here we have Megan Burke, Lauris Pandolfini and Gabrielle Wang

I’ll be speaking at the Melbourne Writers Festival on the 1st of September and it would be great to see you there.

Event 1 September 1st, 10 am – 10.45 am

24 Hours to Change Your Life

24 hours is a long time in fiction. Characters in brand new books by Cath Crowley (Chasing Charlie Duskin, Graffiti Moon) and Karen Tayleur (Chasing Boys,Hostage) find their lives turned utterly upside down, overnight.

Join them as we talk about the dramatic fictional lives of their characters and how a race against the clock drives narrative and makes for brilliant stories.

Event 2 September 1st, 10 am – 10.45 am

A Magical Misunderstanding

Cath Crowley joins us this morning for a special session for younger readers as we explore magic, tricky characters, and the pressures of being the school’s biggest drama queen.

I made my own wrapping paper.

I love the blossom that gets out ahead of the crowd

Best birthday I remember was the year my mum hired a pony.

My friend says one birthday she remembers was in Grade Three when boys were invited for the first time. No boys spoke to girls and no girls spoke to boys but she did get an awesome Lassie picture book from one of the boys.

Boys never came to my parties. The pony wasn’t even a boy.

Worst/best/weird birthdays for you?