Tom Lutz is a man of many talents, but it is his iconoclastic nous, particularly in analysing his confused homeland that stands tall.
You might not know my name, but you might understand my struggle. I’ve donated my life to writing, and don’t think I regret it every day. That doesn’t mean I’ll quit.
Michael Mohammed Ahmad talks to The Big Smoke about his book, The Lebs, racism, Islamophobia, misinformation, paranoia and the power of art.
With the recent publication of a long-forgotten JRR Tolkien piece, the publication of authors long beyond their lifespans is a murky, often questionable pursuit.
With his new book The Other Wife just published, we asked Michael Robotham to share his thoughts about some of the books that inspired him to become a writer.
In the spectrum of the hoarder, those who cobble books are a special breed. Plus 61J sat down with Sarah Krasnostein, author of The Trauma Cleaner to pick her dirty mind.
Do you fancy yourself as a journalist of tomorrow but are unsure where to start? Perhaps the Next Gen program is for you.
In an age where we overanalyse art (and those who created it) to death, poetry is a singular force. It is what it is and forever has value because of it.
As we watch Zimbabwe tear itself apart, our extended history indicates that the worse things get, the better the art we produce becomes.
2017 has presented us something galling. While artists are being torn down, their work remains. So what are we to do? Allow me to propose the Kerouac rule. Death is in the air. Doesn’t matter what day it is, somebody’s breathing their final breath. The sun set on 2016 with a gravitational pull…
Sometimes, the mud sticks. Welsh poet Dylan Thomas will be forever known as a man who expired with a bottle in hand, but his final act belies his genius.
July 1 is Canada Day, and what better way to honour that wonderful place by highlighting some of their best writers. Plus, it’s handy information if you ever meet Trudeau.
All the world is a stage for iconic actor John Bell, but without new writers sacrificing blood, sweat and words for ‘the play’, that wonderful world would be lost.