Tag Archives: Emily Brontë

disembodied voices

In recent years I’ve begun to write more fiction from a male perspective. My earliest attempts scored mixed reviews from women, but enough men were taken in that I opted to continue. Not only does maleness free my narrators to … Continue reading

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formative fiction

Most writers can reel off a handful of titles of books they’d call formative, typically read for the first time during their teens. One of mine is Wuthering Heights (1847) by Emily Brontë, a classic of incomparable passion despite no … Continue reading

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The Uses of Ambiguity

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, meaning is too. After seeing Francis Bacon’s paintings at the Art Gallery of NSW (beautiful or ugly? human or animal? wrestling or fucking?), I found an incisive review of an essay … Continue reading

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