As part of a six-week exchange course I did in Germany this summer (c.f. Salient Issue Two 2008), the DAAD arranged an excursion for us across the border to Amsterdam. It only planned for one day – go in the morning, walk around, see the Anne Frank house and come back – but a few […]
Today I’m a celebrity stand-in on The Great New Zealand Spelling Bee. My cousin – who works for TVNZ – got the job for me and my friend Arun. On our arrival at Avalon Studios she hands us each an envelope, containing $50 in New World vouchers. A few Avalon film school students arrive soon […]
The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided to Go Get Pregnant (Penguin, 1999) is Seattle-based sex advice columnist Dan Savage’s autobiographical account of how he and his boyfriend, Terry, adopted a baby. As Savage tells readers, he wrote The Kid partly to fill an empty niche in the gay book market: “Some […]
Obsessive love affairs, taboos, psychiatry, art and madness are synonymous with the work of novelist Patrick McGrath.
Cartoonists aren’t known for their high public profiles, except for Man’s Robbie Neilson, who habitually dresses as a giant chicken and photographs himself naked in front of international landmarks. But it wasn’t Robbie’s muscular buttocks that were an invited guest during the recent Writers and Readers Week – it was Doonesbury artist Garry Trudeau.
As novelist David Mitchell spoke to a gigantic Embassy Theatre audience, the stammer that he has battled with throughout his life was occasionally in evidence. Occasionally Mitchell would pause for a second to search for a word which would express what he wanted to say, but which he would not stutter out.
On the morning of March 15, the day the IIML Prize in Modern Letters was awarded, the Dominion Post was anxious. PUBLISH and be ignored, said the headline of its Indulgence section, followed by a byline worried about how “few of our homegrown writers make it big overseas.”
This book is six hundred and seventy five pages long. After an hour of reading resulted in barely enough turned pages to keep the front cover from flopping shut, I was ready to throw in the towel. The glimmering prospect of Salient inclusion wasn’t as enticing as lots more free time to read cooler stuff […]
The Comedy Night was pretty friggin’ sweet. Steve Wrigley opened the night with straight-up fucking AWESOME offensive humour. I’m not normally a fan of this, but he does it so well, it doesn’t really matter. In addition, the “crazy drugged-up stories of Kiwis in Amsterdam” is a classic which never fails.