Short Story: John Cole
When I was little I thought John Cole was some kind of alien. A large head on a long body, like in vintage comics. His thin yellow skin contrasted with…
Revival by Stephen King
In keeping with the theme of firsts, this was the first time I’d actually read a Stephen King novel. I wasn’t disappointed. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m…
Little Pretty Pocket Books and Murderous Clones: The Dark and Puritanical Heritage of Kids’ Lit
It would be grossly naive to think children’s stories are undeserving of serious consideration. Prevailingly though, they’re seen as the ‘paddling pool’ of literature; a place we glibly float before…
Namelessness
There is a particular solemn beauty about fleetingly meeting someone, and farewelling them, and realising that you will very likely never see each other again. Not those obligatory mundane exchanges,…
Foreign Soil by Maxine Beneba-Clarke
I picked up Foreign Soil because it was on prominent display at Oxford St Books, an independent purveyor of carefully curated wordy things whose taste I trust implicitly. I didn’t…
The First Bad Man by Miranda July
I love everything about you, Miranda July. I love your hair, I love your Facebook presence. I love both of your films – the one everyone liked, and the one…
Vale Terry Pratchett
Words by Morgan Goodman Eight or nine years ago, I came across a worn copy of Night Watch by Terry Pratchett, in a small town library somewhere in WA. It…