post-teen trauma

I woke up in Melbourne this morning feeling anxious -  and the feeling didn't go away until the city was a jagged line behind me ....I was homesick! Came back relieved to see the house still standing and not gutted by vandals  or  flattened by the plane tree, and now the cold's starting to creep in and the gas fire's going and it's just lovely.

I lurked at CBCA and managed to scoff food and talk exciting future projects with both my editors and other newish writer friends. Neil Gaiman's address was good (if a bit long) - I loved what he had to say about books belonging to both the author and the reader - a contract - a hand-hold - that readers build story as they read, add their own images and effects.  He said it is the child's job to 'sleep unwisely' like Goldilocks, but these days he's more like Papa Bear, checking the locks etc etc. He makes me want to stay in bed reading folk tales and Gogol.

I also scored a ticket to the swanky dinner at the Museum. A literary blind date! (I was a little worried, my only other blind date experience was at a high school ball when my ape date got drunk, threw up and tried to pash me while he still had flecks and spittle on his chin. Anyway, it was all okay because my blind date turned out to be Leonie Norrington, who is a star. The vegetarian option wasn't much chop - green-ish curry with excess sprouts - but the meringue for dessert more than made up for it.

Watched the Logies. I don't know why. Perhaps to see if someone would take out Sam Newman. But alas, no. And then I think, take them all out. And would someone please give Dannii Minogue a turtleneck?

In other news. I'm waiting for my copyedits for Everything Beautiful. There's a new issue of Mixtape out, with a cool article about non-crafty books including one on revolutionary pop-art nun, Sister Corita! The jumper I bought off Ebay arrived but it is bear-sized. Please pass on your tips for shrinking mohair...