tall tales ~ issue 32
It's the end of the year as we know it
Greetings, friends! Welcome back to my newsletter — the place I return to when I have thoughts like this:
The other week I sat next to a man on a plane watching the recent remake of A Star Is Born. As I watched him watching Bradley Cooper, I couldn’t help but think that actually there is nothing more embarrassing than a male actor in search of a gold statue.
I’m not going to mention the fact that I didn’t write to you in November because what is there to say aside from ‘The dog ate my homework and now he’s very sick’? Instead, I would like to let you know that in November I went to New York. It was lovely and cold and very busy. We stayed in a hotel room sized for chihuahuas, but we ate some incredible food and caught up with many pals.
Due to the fact that Los Angeles does not have weather, my partner and I did not pack appropriately for the cold. Once we arrived I became fixated on the idea of buying a knit bonnet, and when I found one at the Paloma Wool store I asked my partner to buy it for me (feminism). He said yes!! Here’s the bonnet:
When we got back from New York I shot my first ever short film. The script was something I wrote during lockdown and banished to the ‘completed scripts?’ folder on my desktop, and I co-directed it alongside my friend Luke. In the lead up to the shoot I was excited and also really scared, which is a cocktail of feelings I’m experiencing a lot at the moment. The shoot was a massive success, and it taught me a lot about the gulf between idea and follow through. Since being in the US I’ve reflected a lot on how much I love living in Australia, but I’ve also noticed how much easier it is to try something new over here. Americans are so bold it astounds me. Just yesterday a woman approached my family while we were seated at the bar of a restaurant, and asked if she could have our seats because she wanted to order food. We were literally eating our meals. Although this mindset makes me so mad I could flip a Cybertruck, it also makes Americans largely ‘yes’ people when it comes to creative endeavours. And I’ll give them props for that.
2024 is on its way out, and naturally I feel the pressure to reflect on everything it left behind. Consider this my year’s end carousel: the first half felt like treading water, the second half felt like climbing aboard a jet ski (sunburnt and waterlogged, but overwhelmingly grateful). I went off my antidepressants, sliced my surfboard on a ceiling fan in Sri Lanka, got paid to write for TV, got sad that my book didn’t sell to a publisher in the US, lived at my parents house, went back on my antidepressants, got a very expensive sticker in my passport, moved to another country, did a lot of writing, did a lot of not writing, thought about getting married (big party nice ring?), drank a lot of iced coffee, drove on the big freeway, and tried to learn Spanish. Also, in June my friends and I stayed at a renovated train station with no curtains or blinds, but the option to purchase an eye mask on-site. Is there a metaphor in it or was it just a scam? We had a terrible time but the memory now makes me smile.
This year I also read Stephen King’s On Writing, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone interested in creativity and/or Stephen King. It’s full of bangers — here are two of them:
“Writing is not life, but I think that sometimes it can be a way back to life.”
“Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.”
Speaking of writing, 2025 is the year that my first novel will be printed, bound, and sold to anyone who likes the look of it. I am about to engage in the ancient art of self-promotion and I hope that’s okay.
If you’re new to my eclectic and irregular dispatches, the book is called Rytual, and it’s out in May 2025. If I’m honest, it feels a bit like I’m about to show a great many strangers my entire butthole, but I’m told that’s normal. There’s a lot of me in this book, but there’s also a lot of my imagination. It is not a true story, but I hope it is truthful. Here’s the cover:
You can pre-order it now from any of the websites listed here. Pre-orders are incredibly helpful for debut novelists, because they signal to bookstores that they should buy up big. If you don’t want to pre-order it, that’s okay, I won’t know. If you do pre-order it, you’ll be visited by a very friendly spirit who will grant you three wishes and also give you a little kiss on the forehead. Please contact Penguin Random House to claim this free gift with purchase.
Anyhoo, I wish you all many festive tidings, and hope you don’t expect too much from your New Year’s Eve. I’m still chasing an outstanding resolution from 22/23, and that’s to meet Nicole Kidman. But I own this Babygirl sweatshirt now, and I think it’s a step in the right direction.
stories of note
Ottessa Moshfegh’s Substack - I, like many Substack users, wondered if this was a parody account at first, but I can confirm it is actually Ottessa Moshfegh. She is so acerbic and so funny, and she posts all the damn time. In one of her ‘writing advice’ pieces, a subscriber asks her if they need to have self-understanding in order to write about others in a convincing way. In her reply she says: “I just sense a lot of self-indulgence in your query. It irritates me because it’s exactly what I can’t stand to see in myself, and I see it in myself often.” Also, the thing is called ‘It’s Ottessa, Bitch’.
Crystal Ball by Wafia - I’ve had this song on repeat for about six days and it gets better every time. I relate so hard to the feeling of knowing deep down that something won’t last, but wanting to see it through anyway. If I’d heard this song in early-2020 I would have had the lyrics tattooed on my entire forehead.
Anora. You gotta see Anora at the cinema!!!!