New fiction from Jonno Revanche on the weirdness of the suburbs and the pleasures in pain.
In collaboration with the Digital Writers' Festival, Elizabeth Tan and Alice Grundy lifted the curtain and showed the editorial process behind preparing a story for publication. Here you can enjoy the finished piece, Lola Metronome and Calliope St Laurent Having a Picnic at the End of Civilisation as We Know It.
From award-winning author of The Tribe comes some brilliant new fiction set in Western Sydney.
Perfect for your reading group we have prepared some questions on this season's most talked-about novel.
'As was the case in most small country towns, show day was an annual highlight where most of the men of the town went to get pissed, and the others went to have a good day, compete in the various bake offs, and other competitions – from the most yellow yolk to the tastiest tomato to the best crocheted rug.'
Read an excerpt from Jennifer Down's stunning debut novel, Our Magic Hour.
Three screenplays you'll never see at the movies from Holly Isemonger
A series of vignettes about the return voyage from Antarctica.
The yard is small and slopes downhill from the house. Buffalo grass on either side of a concrete path, a grey strip from the back door to a bunker, next to a mandarin tree, which is heavy with fruit in summer.
Read Rebecca Slater's first Obstruction challenge, as Stewed Fruit moves into the third person.
A taste bite of one of our spectacular new novellas.
Read the Monash Undergraduate Creative Writing Prize-winning story, ‘Stewed Fruit’ by Rebecca Slater. This story is the basis for Obstructions II.
We have here – for your reading pleasure – a short story from the Vogel winning When There’s Nowhere Else to Run by Murray Middleton, published by Allen & Unwin. Enjoy!
At Seizure, we really admired his Vogel's award winning first novel, The Roving Party, and so are delighted to present an extract from Rohan Wilson's new novel, To Name Those Lost.
Mr Bishop’s face was the colour of raw meat and his hair, which he tried to comb across his head, resembled the fluff of newborn chickens.
A decision had to be made, and because he was very old she felt she had to make it for him. There was a diagnosis that was irrefutable. There were pressures for and against: if he did not have the operation it was certain death, but that death would probably be slow, he might live for many more months, even years. If he had the operation he might recover and live a great deal longer, but it was a risk because of his age.
The ferris wheel behind her had been there for decades, and stood there now as a famous monument to the unfortunate part of the island. The part of the island where children were dumped.
On the last day of his freedom, the great Grygory Vrevca went to visit his daughter. The authorities had traced him to the basement of a building in Prague, a damp apartment with bare brick walls below a hosiery shop. The police surrounded the place, but Grygory predictably escaped – he and his bodyguard Kovac knocked through the ceiling, prized up the floorboards, and swung themselves into a scattering of startled customers in the shop above. He bought a pair of the best silk stockings for his daughter then walked calmly out of the shop, right past a line of officers who were watching their colleagues hack through the apartment door with an axe.