On ‘Who Needs Anything Anymore?’

Singapore Air Force flying over Western Australia, 11 April 2020

I have published a piece on Medium titled Who Needs Anything Anymore? — about writing, reading and technology during the pandemic. This piece has existed in various incarnations for almost 12 months now, and, maybe tellingly, no where has been especially interested in publishing it. But I really wanted it out of my head and removed from my writing path, so it was either here or Medium.

Now, I’m clearly 5-6 years late to Medium, and trawling through the stories it looks like it’s overrun with bitcoin, wellness and conspiracy theory content. Possibly I’ll regret putting it there, but I’m curious to see if it finds any sort of audience. We’re all online more than ever, but online publishing feels increasingly like shouting into the void — also sort of the point of the piece.

On ‘Untitled (The Dead Man’s Mother)’

Very pleased to be able to say that my piece Untitled (The Dead Man’s Mother) has been published in the March 2021 edition of RIC Journal (we hardly know what year it is, and neither does the Dead Man).

With thanks and gratitude to S for giving continued life to the Dead Man.

On ‘Untitled (Daydream of the Dead Man)’

My poem Untitled (Daydream of the Dead Man) has been published in the September 2020 edition of the extraordinary RIC Journal. The Dead Man feeds stray cats and daydreams about escaping all of this – like the rest of us.

Give to your rowdy boys doves for pets
No, a couple of glittering peacocks

With thanks, as always, to S.

Comment on 3:AM

I have resigned as co-editor-in-chief of 3:AM and ended my association with the magazine.

This was not an easy decision; 3:AM has been very, very good to me. I have worked with talented and passionate writers and publishers from around the world – some I now have the privilege of calling friends. I have interviewed authors I have long admired. Also, a number of publishing opportunities have come my way as a direct result of connections I have made through the magazine. My time at 3:AM has taught me much and was also a lot of fun.

3:AM is a passion project for everyone involved – no money changes hands in any direction. The masthead is filled with people who want to promote the discussion of a certain brand of literature and philosophy, and very often those who wrote for us enjoyed the creative freedom the site afforded them – to write about subjects they were passionate about in a form that did not make sense elsewhere. Usually my criteria for accepting a piece was: Is this 3:AM enough? The hard work that has been put into it simply cannot be quantified, and investing in something in this way makes it especially difficult to leave behind. I joined the team not as an academic or even as a “writer” at the time, but primarily as a reader. As such, the fact that we were publishing for an audience of, ultimately, passionate readers was always at the forefront of my own decision making at the journal.

Recent events have left me sad, angry and distressed – especially because none of it was something I was able to influence despite my role at the magazine. I don’t believe we responded sensibly as a collective to any of the criticisms levelled at us, and I also don’t think we addressed our audience when and how we needed to. I did my utmost to ensure that 3:AM was a respectable, authoritative and unique platform – this is how it was when I joined and I wish I could say this is how it was when I left.

I wish Andrew and the team all the best as they work to re-establish 3:AM.

On ‘Faulkner on the Balcony’

Wrote a few things I probably shouldn’t have while in Melbourne last month for Burning House Press’s September, impressions of home edition. It’s a story now – called Faulkner on the Balcony.

With thanks and gratitude to Rachael.

Coleridge in Xanadu

The idea came at dawn between sleeps; I woke to drink from the tap and to check on the blue bird, deathly ill, and back in bed a thought appeared, quivered, somersaulted into another, a theme, a number — but then, Coleridge in Xanadu.

On 3:AM + one or two other things

Thought it was about time I put in writing here that I have joined the mighty 3:AM Magazine as a reviews/nonfiction editor, working closely with my good buddy K. Thomas Kahn.

Been a reader of the journal, sometime contributor and an admirer of the current editorial team (Andrew Gallix, David Winters and Richard Marshall to begin with) as well as former editors (Susan Tomaselli and Darran Anderson) and their contribution to the vast galaxy of literature for some time. Needless to say, being part of it is a thrill and an honour.

(My call for submissions.)

The thing that I’ve already found pleasantly surprising is the connections made — from reading somebody’s writing, from working on that writing together, from the sharing and discussion of ideas, from a simple message in my inbox; connections with people who, frankly, I’m unlikely to have interacted with otherwise.

Maybe this is me finding out that that’s what literature is about too.

B bomr L

The sound of 08:18 27 May 2014, inadvertently recorded and saved to my Evernote account.

Update (II)

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On the most human thing of all

“There’s nobody here just dogs and cattle,” said Matsumara. Well, also an ostrich, which he is now taking care of. “It was just wandering around.” (Link.)

Matsumara is 83, lived in Fukushima for 80 years, and returns to the exclusion zone to feed abandoned animals. Can’t help feeling like looking after animals is the most human thing of all.