Cath Crowley's Blog, page 10

BORDERS EVENT-NORMAL ROMANCE

This is a bit exciting. 

I'm speaking on a panel with two of my favourite YA authors Simmone Howell (Everything Beautiful) and Fiona Wood (Six Impossible Things). We'll be talking about writing YA, and reading and signing books.

I hope you can come along. 

WHEN: SATURDAY OCTOBER 2, 2PM
WHERE: BORDERS MELBOURNE CENTRAL

Fiona Wood (Six Impossible Things), Simmone Howell (Everything Beautiful) and Cath Crowley (Graffiti Moon), will read and talk about the absence of vampires in realistic teen fiction.



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The Howling Boy

So I'm not blogging much at the moment because I'm writing The Howling Boy and it's pretty much all I can think about. It's a mystery. And it's partly about the things that go on in the subconscious. So, for part of the day I'm writing without thinking, stream of consciousness stuff. Which is fun. And weird. Some I'm posting because I have to post something. Some I won't be posting. Ever.

If I was a bird I think I would be a seagull. I’d eat a lot; possibly I’d pretend to be wounded so I didn’t have to look for fish. I’d like to think I’d be a nightingale because they have a very cool voice and some of them come all the way from Africa (I think) and I also think it’s generally accepted that they are the babes of the bird world. Which, seagulls are not.

If I were a piece of food I’d be an avocado because avocadoes look weird from certain angles and I do too. I’d like to be a fig. Figs are very cool. You don’t notice that they’re cool until they’re in season, and then by the time everyone’s talking about the figs, they’re gone.

If I were an insect I’d be this little lizard that I saw sunning himself on the verandah yesterday. He looked pretty happy with the world. Sometimes I’d like to be a spider though, so I could scare the crap out of people and see what it’s like to get sucked into a vacuum cleaner. I think it might feel a little like falling in love. Or out of love. Or, just like being sucked into a vacuum cleaner.

If I were a piece of legislation I’d like to be the bill of rights. Because we need one and it’s nice to be needed.

If I was a font I'd be Arial but I'd like to be something like Palatino. Named after the master of calligraphy. It's got history. But it's still hip.

If I was a piece of clothing I'd be a skirt from the op shop and I'd be pretty happy with that. Only, I'd like to fit people properly and not smell.

I would never be a cyclone, I'm too repressed. If I were money I'd find my way into the pocket of someone who was broke and hungry and desperate for some sort of change to come.

The Howling Boy

So I'm not blogging much at the moment because I'm writing The Howling Boy and it's pretty much all I can think about. It's a mystery. And it's partly about the things that go on in the subconscious. So, for part of the day I'm writing without thinking, stream of consciousness stuff. Which is fun. And weird. Some I'm posting because I have to post something. Some I won't be posting. Ever.

If I was a bird I think I would be a seagull. I'd eat a lot; possibly I'd pretend to be wounded so I...

monologue of a star

I see it all from up here. See you down there, wishing on me to fix things. Get your wife to forgive you. Find that money to pay the electricity bill. Get you some love from that girl who sits on the bus opposite you every day, playing with her hair like you want to play with her hair. You want her? Ask her out you loser. Get a little candle light going. Buy her a drink. You want it all easy. You want to be guided across oceans and in your hearts and you want it all without giving anything back. You want it all without understanding anything. You want to lie underneath us and have the meaning of life beamed down on you. Except you don’t see and you don’t listen. You keep living these tiny lives, looking up at the answers to it all but seeing nothing. We’re burning gasses, full of light but existing in darkness, some of us alone, some of us in clusters, all of us heading towards death, running out of fuel, something we can’t imagine happening but it does, it does. And the end catches us by surprise even though the whole thing takes billions of years. Some of us go to black holes and that possibility scares the crap out of us because none of us knows why, none of us knows what’s on the other side or why it happens. We know that now is all there is. That what’s important is the light coming from the bodies next to you, that you got to treat those bodies right so that when the darkness comes for you they might shine a little light your way. I tell you that but you’re lying underneath us singing about twinkling, wishing hard for all the wrong things.

Monologue of a dying star

I see it all from up here. See you down there, wishing on me to fix things. Get your wife to forgive you. Find that money to pay the electricity bill. Get you some love from that girl who sits on the bus opposite you every day, playing with her hair like you want to play with her hair. You want her? Ask her out you loser. Get a little candle light going. Buy her a drink. You want it all easy. You want to be guided across oceans and in your hearts and you want it all without giving anything...

when we marry

At night I sing to her. She's not here yet but I sing anyway. I got a girl and that girl is pretty. I put the pillow next to me and give it a tight hug and imagine her giggling. I met her eight days ago over the Internet. That's how things work now. I heard about a guy who met his soul mate on a dating site and now I've met mine too. The things she types to me. Do I want her? God, do I want her. Do I love her? God do I love her. At night all I do is lie in bed and think about her mouth and...

some street art that I like

life sucks (sometimes)

sometimes life suckseven though the sky is covered in clouds that look like highwayseven though a friend makes you a cupcakewith your name written across the  top in pink icingit still sucksslightly lessbut stillit suckseven though a million people calljust to say hellohello you saybut it still suckseven though a little bird sits near your windowand hums your favourite Nick Cave songand wears a jaunty scarf that has blue dots on itit sucks stillbecause sometimesthat's just the way life is

kiss

Kiss half-shut eyes, old powdered breath, yawning hands and early breakfasts in the dark because neither of us could sleep past five anymore. Kiss empty bed next to mine where your ring tree still sits on the side table, full now. Kiss you. If I could. Kiss plastic chairs in the shower and me washing your skin. Kiss your embarrassed laugh. Kiss days before it was better that you went in your sleep. Quietly. While I wasn't watching. Kiss the ends of you; your memory unravelling more every...

the last second

it's five to midnight
on thursday the fifteenth of may
and i am waiting for you to come home
when the man on the news announces
that everything is about to end
the world
will be over
by midnight
he says
i am eating a toasted cheese sandwich as he says it
i really wish i'd used full fat cheese
you always tell me to use full fat cheese
where are you?
there's less than five minutes left
where are you?
all i have is the news reader to
explain why the end is coming
and exactly what the end is
and what might happen ...