Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
“Hello, my name is Alison Booth and I’m going to read to you part of the prologue to my second novel which was published with Random House Australia earlier this year and it’s called Indigo Sky: (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
Hi, this is Deborah Klika reading from my comedy script “At the Bar”- a comedy for anyone who has to work with their ex.
SCENE 1 – INT. BAR ASSOCIATION MEETING ROOM THE MEETING OF THE BAR ASSOCIATION IS IN PROGRESS. RUTH KARP, SC, IS CHAIRING. (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
“Hi, I’m Susan Beinart reading from my novel, Thin Skin. Before Leon came that night, I pictured him on Mum’s hard kitchen chair. As if he were with us, below the painting of Mr Mandela, sharing lamb chops at the round table with Mum, her boyfriend plus my Olly and me. We sat close, like a real family. Yet our door stayed shut – Leon wasn’t there. Was he scoring at some dealer’s? Palms clenched, I almost got up to search for him. I scowled at the wall and said, ‘Instead of painting Mandela, Leon should see his shrink – his art’s worse since he did that picture.’ (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
Hi, I’m Kate Cole-Adams. I’m reading from a work in progress Till Human Voices Wake Us which is a non-fiction exploration of anaesthesia, memory and consciousness. (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
“Hi this is Glenda Korporaal and I’m reading to you from Marion’s Story.
“It was by no means a case of love at first sight but it was madness when it struck.”
So Marion Mahony would write later of her love affair with her husband Walter Burley Griffin. (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
“Hi, I’m Louise D’Arcy reading from my short story ‘Lilith Gets a Dog’.
Lilith, Alec and Marcy’s mother and Gerald’s wife, was standing on the front path surveying the lawn. She was thinking that if she were to step down off the path, lie down carefully in the flowerbed in front of the roses with her nose at ground level, every blade of grass would match perfectly in height with its neighbour, every shoot be equidistant. It occurred to Lilith that Gerald’s lawn was not so much a lawn as an exhibit. She sighed. To her ears the sigh was practised but no less deeply heart felt. She was fifty. (more…)
Click on the arrow above to listen (In emails: click on the title above)
“Rosie Barter, from Perth Western Australia, an excerpt from my Memoir (September1963).
I remember waking in my sleeping bag on that stony path along the sea cliff of Hydra. A full moon, thin as paper, clung to an ink-washed sky and, from the Aegean far below, a sheet of ocean mist rose up and faded into dawn’s ether. (more…)
NSW-based writers with disability or who are D/deaf are warmly invited to apply for our new Writer’s Space Fellowsh… twitter.com/i/web/status/1…6 days ago