Context; past and present
you don't know who you are till someone tells you; on a good day they'll say, 'Awesome writing' and on a bad day, it will be 'What the ' was that?'
I AM UPDATING THIS 'ABOUT' SECTION BY USING COMMENTARY!
I have short fiction published in Agni, The Boston Review, Best Australian Short Stories 2005, Sleepers Almanac 2006. Online at Smokelong Quarterly, Cafe Ireal, elimae, Zoetrope All-story Extra, Ghoti, Word Riot, Temenos, Salt River Review, Pineldyboz, Mad Hatters Review and others.
Just finished the nth draft of my novel, The Hibiscus Airport and have started looking for publication. ( Well, I've finished looking... it was a finalist in the Faulkner first novel prize out of New Orleans etc and then life intervened and other novel... I'm working on YET another one... the one after the other one...now)When I am working on a novel, I only read SS collections and literary magazines, so while I have a tiny window, a few months, till I start on my next opus, I am reading and attending to my short stories
Living in Melbourne, Australia and working closely with other writers in an online office at Zoetrope All-Story has worked really well for me. This city is very grounding, so far, at least, and it offsets the cerebral buzz I get from working intensively on various writing projects online. I have a qualification in media design Feels like LIGHT years ago now.
Mind spaces interest me. I meditate, practice Tai Chi chi kung, read bucket loads, steal from the food kitty to subscribe to magazines. I try not to be too quiet and end up loud, sometimes. I am now working in vibrational healing using Essential Oils... I've always been interested in and studied therapies like kinesiology and shiatsu and more... and when I found that severe brain fog and tiredness plus other malaise interfered with writing... I found a way out... and then began to work in that arena... it's nice to be not so full-on focused on writing... but doing it sideways.
SISTER SITE: Girija Tropp
I was born in Sri Lanka, on the side of the mountain (hence my name which is also that of a minor Indian deity) to Indian parents. They were both teachers and I was four when they took off to Ghana on the West African Coast. Intent on a great future for me, they steered me towards a medical career. The first years of studying medicine, I spent hitching to the library in the city centre (Accra) in a mammy truck so I could borrow novels. I wasn't popular with my roommate because I brought back my dissection material so I could prepare for exams. I also borrowed her notes. Then came the time that I was required to show cause--my exam results were woeful. I fibbed to my parents and told them I'd been chucked out of med school--they had just received contracts to come to Australia. We were asked if we wanted to citizenship and so it went. My son (16) said to me the other day, when I was telling some small anecdote from the past, that he needs to sit me down and get the whole story.
But the past is ephemeral, especially
when you are surrounded by a different culture. Especially now. Most of
the writers that I get feedback from and socialize with are online at Zoetrope
All-story and some I've known them for over ten years. (UPDATE: I don't spend so much time there... only in a couple of rooms... one in which I write my flash fiction and the other, the core group of old friends, and I do have to make an effort to make the time And I read a lot
of fiction by American writers. I know the streets in New York, a fictionalized
United States. It is different to the America my neighbor knows. Hers is
colored by George Bush and Hollywood Movies (All this is changing. So I know what it might feel
like to be a spy because I have secret information. Sometimes, I feel like
a pimple rising to the surface. Most of the time, I am grateful to be
able to write. It sets me on an urgent mission to discover the worldOr maybe not. I'm get tired of travelling... I'm happy to be in my backyard..