Cirrus@Austlit

'This paper continues ongoing research, by the three authors, into possible ways to write climate fiction, a subgenre of literature that focuses on depictions of climate change. Curious as to whether climate fiction has become fixed as a negative genre, most frequently mired in dystopian landscapes, we posited that writing fiction collaboratively might be one method to help us imagine a future in which we have agency and are not simply helpless victims of the inevitable. To explore this hypothesis, we ran a two-day Posthuman Artists’ Laboratory with six other professional writers, all based on Kaurna and Permangk country in Tartanya/Adelaide, Australia. In detailing the setup and findings of this experiment, the paper looks towards artistic practice that does not focus on the capitalist individual and details the thrill of collaboration. We propose that there is a strong (posthuman) argument for writers to abandon the desire to be identified as one singular being with a ‘unique’ voice and reimagine their creative subjectivities as a sticky web of connections.' (Publication abstract)

'The consequences of climate change weigh on all of us, especially as we face an El Niño summer, with floods and fires already making themselves felt in the Australian environment.' (Introduction)          

'The chimera of the city are on the hunt.

'After years of being individually slaughtered, they have come together to make war on Pandora and her people.

'In the conclusion to The Burning Days, the sins of the past will be revealed and all hope for the future will be under attack.' (Publication summary) 

(Publication abstract)

'This paper interrogates the humanist commitment in pedagogical ideas circulating around the act of creating character and the related judgements which underlie workshop criticism. It considers how many pedagogical texts, and much practice, reinforce the centrality of an individual subject who is separate not only from objects and environment, but from other subjects: technological, human and nonhuman. Whilst acknowledging the challenge to these notions already arising from the textuality of postmodernism it questions the theory of character these challenges have produced and considers what a posthuman theory of character might look like, drawing on Donna Haraway’s notion of humanity as ‘compost’ and utilising The Overstory by Richard Powers as an example. The paper considers how student writers could be encouraged to move beyond humanist notions of the individual and to write into the connected realm of the posthuman.' (Publication abstract)

'The tension between the artist finding their own unique voice and the use of other artists as exemplars which, effectively, negates the notion of unique-ness and relies on rules and general tenets, is highly evident in the teaching of emerging writers in university creative writing programmes. This paper seeks to unpack elements of this tension by considering the ways in which teaching identities intersect with pedagogical practice, particularly around the rules which govern writing schedules and engagement with creative content making. I consider two opposing notions of creative practice – the strict, worker-like ideal versus Muse-driven, inspired artistry – to challenge some of the ‘self-evident’ tools of creative writing teaching. In particular, I look at the ubiquitous nature of the ‘write every day’ and ‘keep a journal’ mantras which have permeated both my student and teaching experiences in the academy. I argue that if we acknowledge creative writing practices as ‘personal and cultural’ then we must be wary, as creative writing instructors, of insisting on fixed notions of what a writer looks like.' (Publication abstract)

'The River People and the Mountain People have survived for another season. But at what cost? Pandora has returned to her village. She is haunted both by her failure to bring her friend home and the vision she has seen of the last days, The Burning, when creatures swarmed the city. How did these monsters come into being in the first place? And are the last remnants of humanity really safe from them?

'Whilst Pan now knows how to shoot an arrow, she still does not know the shape of her own heart and the river stone remains in pieces …'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'We are not special. We are just survivors. 

Pandora wants so much more than what her village can provide. When disaster comes to the River People, Pan has the opportunity to become their saviour and escape her inevitable pairing with life-long friend Matthew. She wants to make her own choices. Deep in her soul, she believes there is something more out there, beyond the boundaries, especially since she encountered the hunter of the Mountain People.

A story of confused love, difficult friendships and clumsy attempts at heroism, Pan’s fight for her village’s survival will bring her into contact with a whole new world, where the truth about the past will have terrifying reverberations for her people’s future survival.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'With the question of appropriation in fiction in debate – given prominence through the furore caused by Lionel Shriver’s keynote speech at the Brisbane Writers Festival in October 2016 – the importance of discussing issues of voice and authority with emergent writers has become ever more apparent. Yet how should these ideas be discussed with student writers who are still coming to terms with craft notions such as point-of-view and narrative voice? What alternatives are available other than focusing on privilege and power, where students tend to retreat into their subjugated identities to justify their speaking positions? And when discussing ‘the right’ to tell other people’s stories how can a recognition of fiction writing as a political act in itself move emergent writers away from the idea of ‘making things up’ towards a more engaged view of their practice? This paper will attempt to answer some of these questions via a mixture of voices itself, utilising the ‘voice of experience’ of the tertiary teacher as well as that of the practicing creative writer whose own work – a draft novel entitled ‘The Master Class’ – is concerned with fiction as, inevitably, an act of appropriation and utilities a narrative where fictional characters directly engage with the question of who owns a story.' (Publication abstract)

'In 2015, Beth Driscoll raised the ire of three women writers by labelling them ‘middlebrow’. Her article ‘Could Not Put It Down’ for Sydney Review of Books caused Antonia Hayes, Susan Johnson and Stephanie Bishop to respond in writing and collectively (and then separately) reject the term, arguing for their right to be evaluated outside the confines of Driscoll’s parameters, defined in the following way:

We can recognise the middlebrow by a set of features. It is associated with women and the middle class. It is reverent towards legitimate culture and thus concerned with quality – the middlebrow shies away from the trashy – at the same time as it is enmeshed in commerce and explicitly mediated. The middlebrow is concerned with the domestic and recreational rather than the academic or professional, it is emotional, and it has a quality of ethical seriousness. These features can combine to make a book vibrantly social, a catalyst for passionate conversations between readers. (Driscoll 2015)

(Introduction)