
Nancy Huston Undulates Her Way To A Bad Sex In Fiction Award
Transcontinentally-acclaimed author Nancy Huston snatches the 2012 Bad Sex In Fiction award for resplendent quivering, palpitating and triple-undulation.
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Transcontinentally-acclaimed author Nancy Huston snatches the 2012 Bad Sex In Fiction award for resplendent quivering, palpitating and triple-undulation.

Australia’s master of the novel most-likely-to-crowd-Christmas-trees for more than two decades, Bryce Courtenay, has passed away.

Campbell Newman wielded his blade to cut down the Queensland Premier’s Literary Awards for populism and profit. Yet we suspect the cash-for-cultural-commentary gambit is only growing.

Fresh New York writing outlet n+1 ably (but irregularly) blows the cobwebs out of the stuffy lit-mag genre. Here’s a cheat sheet for the anti-literary magazine literary magazine.

Contentious French thinkers Michel Houellebecq and Bernard-Henri Lévy fight back-to-back against their critics, mediocrity, and those not learned enough to understand all the footnotes.

While Gregory Maguire’s revisionist tales of Oz are witty, inventive and detailed, the dreary ending of his Wicked Years quadrilogy left us heavy-hearted.

When was the last time you read a book written by an Australian woman? We explain why this year, we’re promising to read – and review – more.

The annual Words of the Year for 2011 (from across the world) include the obvious, the not so, and the downright WTF.

Much more than a double-dip of previous publications, veteran journalist David Marr has revised and recontextualised his essays to map an alarming tendency in Australian culture.

In cartoons, alum puckered Sylvester The Cat’s mouth into a cat’s arse. Will this chemical compound do the same to your natural predators?

Critics revelled in spewing venom across the Linsday Lohan-helmed flop biopic Liz & Dick. But how did her Aussie (enough) co-star Grant Bowler fare?

Even the Olympics has indie cred: “I’m so cool I qualified for the Olympics before my nation’s sovereignty was even recognised, man”.

Fresh New York writing outlet n+1 ably (but irregularly) blows the cobwebs out of the stuffy lit-mag genre. Here’s a cheat sheet for the anti-literary magazine literary magazine.
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