‘Take your pills. Don’t take your pills. Read this self-help book. Call her emotional. Put Manic Depression on a mixtape and give it to her for Christmas.’
Working my way through the impressive and throat-gripping essays in new anxiety anthology Headlands, I’m struck by two things. How unique each story is – and how each one is Continue Reading →
“I don’t see the point in writing about something that doesn’t really excite you; that doesn’t get right down into the base of your spine.” – Helen Heath
At first glance, this might sound like a horrible threat. But since the moment I heard it, it’s become a comforting mantra.
Some posts take a few hours to write and then I hit publish with ease. Others take weeks and every time I go to push the button I just freeze. This is one of those Continue Reading →
For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with the need to constantly achieve. A deeply felt belief that productivity = worth. I hear a relentless voice telling me to do Continue Reading →
I wrote a response to Bryan Walpert’s book Poetry and Mindfulness: Interruption to a Journey, for Booksellers NZ.
My sex ed at school was rudimentary at best and focused very much on the many ways in which you could get pregnant and/or STIs and/or die. Not exactly the Continue Reading →
I am never going to stop caring about spilled milk. And here is why.
In June last year, I sent an idea for a story to the editor of New Zealand Geographic. She said yes. Ten months later, it is finally out in the Continue Reading →