|Spot the wanker|
On Saturday we tripped off to Fairfield -- our old haunt -- for an afternoon at Fairfield Books.
There were plenty of local authors -- including Fran Cusworth, Carole Wilkinson, Nick Place, Zana Fraillon -- and even more locals. Some of these locals realised we weren't Liberal Party spruikers, and enjoyed the cupcakes, muffins and chocolate-covered marshmallows (with sprinkles).
I also got to meet the lovely Kylie Ladd, neuropsychologist, novelist and fellow 'Modern Dilemmas' panelist on Radio National's 'Life Matters'.
|Spot the unity of time and space|
On the window of Fairfield Books was a crowd-sourced story-in-progress, which didn't quite follow Aristotle's classical rules. Nonetheless, it got readers and passers-by involved, and was good fun.
Here is the story (or my interpretation of it), with Sophia's words in red, Nikos' in blue and mine in orange:
Once there was a magician who longed for an amazing blue wand that had flowers. Then he cast a spell to turn a rock into a frog. The hot sun melted the frog and turned into chocolate. A smiling cat licked languidly. A turnip sprang up from the magician's head and dropped on the floor. He picked it up and shook it until... it went back to normal. The magician cast a spell and the frog with green wings jumped up on his pet bunyip who was dreaming about profiteroles which were covered with mango. He saw a dark shape wriggling on a tree. The hippo smiled and said "I would really, really like that dark shadow to show itself." And the shadow smiled and changed into a... "Oh no!" Dragon! A dragon who is a blood-like shade of red. Then he said "Would you like some marshmallow?" He set them alight and then put them on the ground for the bunyip to eat. The bunyip stomped on the marshmallows to put the fire out. It worked. The started to nibble on the gooey white flesh of the marshmallow and he burned a toe with the heat of a thousand bad excuses. "Hey you," said the orange rabbit as he pointed at the double white line in horror. "What is this?" And then to everyone's surprise I went to Florence! His foot got red so I saw a doctor and started [illegible] Splat! So doctor put a band-aid on his sore feet and made it all better. But then a big hairy spider came along and raised her fifth and sixth hairy legs, and Splat! again. But he missed. The splat was the sound of a big juicy eyeball that the heavy hippo fell on. The juicy eyeball! [illegible] without pips because it had already been eaten by a dragon.