Georgia Savage

In November 1984 when I left Queensland to come back to Victoria, Kathy de Bono, a friend from the Yoga school, followed me to Murwillumbah where I was catching the train. She told me that because my car was old she’d drive slowly behind me in case I broke down. Now my Lesley McGinley doesn’t look much, but it goes like the clappers. Out of mischief I flattened my foot when I’d crossed the T ... (read more)

Perhaps because of the coloured marquee with elm leaves pressed against the top like alien faces watching, Writers’ Week had a slightly theatrical air which added to the pleasure. All kinds of people were there, in all kinds of clothes, so that one was torn between wanting to watch the crowd and to listen to the speakers. The marquee seats three hundred people – it was always full, and the org ... (read more)

This book is the best thing that’s happened to me since J.D. Salinger covered his typewriter, or went to Mars or whatever it was that happened to him. It’s a book to put in your satchel and take everywhere, so that in times of stress, you can take it out, read a chapter and feel your heart lift. In fact, it’s really too good for me to write about, but I don’t suppose the editor would be am ... (read more)