Cirrus@Austlit

' Without further ado, the facts are these: I am a proud man. I am a deeply unhappy man. I am a coward. All of these truths, these ugly seams, tore open recently when my mother became homeless.' (Publication summary)

'In New Zealand a couple of summers back, I was lying naked on my back on a tilted rock warm as a car bonnet, in the path of Rob Roy Glacier. I felt languid and composed; the feeling captured by painters in their depictions of reclining Venuses: lazy, vain, and slightly aroused.' (Publication abstract)

'My mother wrote in hieroglyphics. Every morning she would greet the first faint light with her notebook, her pen and her Bible. She believed this sacred writing time was the source of her strength. Pages and pages covered in indecipherable shorthand, learned at secretarial school and then refined into a personal code.' (Publication abstract)