I’ve wanted to write a novel for one hundred years. Fortunately, now that I’m one hundred and ten, I’ve finally written one. I’m being an unreliable narrator. There was just a teeny tiny bit of hyperbole there.

I’m an avid reader. As a child, I used to devour books. I gobbled up stories all the time – even when I wasn’t supposed to. I’d sit at the back of the classroom and read novels tucked behind my textbooks. I even perfected the art of reading while walking.

I read for pleasure first and foremost. Even now, when I ought to be reading like a writer – in other words paying attention to the novel’s construction, I find myself reading for pure enjoyment. I need to get into the habit of going back to the book for a second reading – one where I decipher how the novel is crafted.

I recently wrote my debut novel – as the artefact component of my practice led research degree. A friend kindly clued me into the idea of doing a PhD in Creative Writing. I figure even if my novel never makes it to publication, at least I’ll be able to put Dr in front of my name. Hopefully, in the not-too-distant future, I’ll have both a doctorate and a published novel. I enjoy the novel writing process: plotting, planning, researching, writing and editing. I’m a combo of a plotter and a pantser. I’ll tell you more about that in a future post.

I live on the land of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nations – in the eastern suburbs of Melbourne, Australia.