The writer laid bare

I was boarding the plane in Paris on my way home from the annual memoir-writing workshop, when I had a sudden jolt of recognition. That magnificent head of swinging auburn hair several metres ahead could only belong to my ex-friend …

I was separated from three of my children, the first at the end of the 1960s when I was seventeen. A familiar story in those years. Unmarried mothers were often hidden away, and babies adopted shortly after birth. An agreement …

For some years I’d entertained a shy little dream to write a book loosely based on this blog you’re reading right now. At the same time, the oh-so-familiar refrain of ‘who are you to advise others on writing?’ kept playing …

In 2017, my boyfriend was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. We had been dating for roughly two years but were still to reach many of our dating milestones – meeting one another’s family and friends, travelling together, living together and plenty …

When I arrived in central Australia in 1999, I fell in love with the place I’d entered – a world that seemed to both exist in the country we call Australia, as well as spin on its own axis. From …

A few minutes after signing the publishing contract for my memoir, Ten Thousand Aftershocks, once the euphoria subsided, the reality of what I had done descended. The manuscript I had written at my kitchen counter and on my couch, …