Tag Archives: reading

Australian Women Writers Challenge 2013

awwbadge_2013I’m signing up for the 2013 Australian Women Writers Challenge, which supports and promotes books by Australian women. There are various levels for the challenge, and you can participate as a reader/reviewer, or just as a reader. I’ve opted for the ‘Franklin’ level, with a target of reading at least 10 books by Australian women during the year and reviewing at least six.

I didn’t participate formally in the 2012 challenge, but here are some of the books by Australian women writers that I read in 2012 (* indicates reviewed for The West Australian). Each one gave me something to think about—and taught me something about writing.

A Common Loss by Kirsten Tranter

A Dissection of Murder by Felicity Young

All that I Am by Anna Funder

An Unknown Sky by Susan Midalia

Animal People by Charlotte Wood

Black Cow by Magdalena Ball

Black Jack Anderson by Elaine Forrestal

Creepy & Maud by Dianne Touchell

Five Bells by Gail Jones

Forecast: Turbulence by Janette Turner-Hospital

If I Should Lose You by Natasha Lester

Like a House on Fire by Cate Kennedy

Losing It by Julia Lawrinson*

Shallow Breath by Sara Foster

Tarcutta Wake by Josephine Rowe*

The Bookshop on Jacaranda Street by Marlish Glorie

Whisky Charlie Foxtrot by Annabel Smith

9781922089144_WHISKYCHARLIEFOXTROT_WEBI suppose I could also describe Whisky Charlie Foxtrot as ‘reviewed’, as I wrote the back-cover endorsement to this fabulous novel.

I look forward to all this new year will bring from Australian women writers.

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Look both ways, Charlotte

Welcome to Looking up/looking down—an occasional blog about writing, reading and watching the world.

Why looking up/looking down? Well, it’s something I like to do when I take photographs—and when I write, too. It reminds me that the world can’t be framed, that we can only ever see fragments, that there are infinitely more views to be seen and heard than we imagine.

I’m currently writing a novella, and I found my main character, an ageing expatriate Australian living in Paris, thinking this:

When you reach an age—you’ll know it when it comes—looking forward won’t do. Looking back, if you let it, can consume every breath you take. But looking up, looking down …  it’s here, in these oblique moments, that we truly live, where it’s possible to find joy.

Stop and smell the roses? Live in the present? Yes, I need to be reminded of that, even if it does come from someone who, at the moment, doesn’t live anywhere except in my head!

Charlotte Brontë put it more simply:

I avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.

To which I would only add: look down, too.

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