Myperbole

A Cartoon by Tom Gauld

2012 is here!  And before the Mayan calendar ticks over to its ‘Have a Jolly Apocalypse’ day, I thought I’d add my published shorts to darrengroth.com:

Sunday Matinee
Sleeping With Lionel Richie
True Patriot Love
Sympathy Via Satellite

In the coming weeks, I’ll spotlight each of the stories, giving you a little background to their inspiration and execution.  For now, read and enjoy.  Oh, and feel free to let me know your favourite.

The Brothers Groth – Simon and Yours Truly – had an auspicious start to their collaboration with novel, Concentrate, being shortlisted in the 2009 Text Prize (although it still has yet to be contracted by a publisher…WTF).

The draft of the second B-Gro work, Wake, is underway and promises more YA lit of the highest order.  Here’s a blurb:

Wake

The Brothers Groth

Skye Sandalford’s boyfriend, Clayton Drummond, is earmarked for greatness.  Nineteen years old and propelled by size eighteen feet, he is the prototype of a swimming prodigy.  But his destiny won’t only be defined by world records.  Powered by ‘Team Drum’ – comprising career-plotting mother, Blythe, God-fearing father, Ray, and an entourage of consultants – this good looking, articulate Aussie dubbed ‘Wake’ can transcend the boundaries of sport and fire the imagination of a world paralyzed by economic and environmental gloom.

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‘Authors Compare’ is a terrific new initiative created by the Australian Literature Review that gathers writers from across the globe into one cyber-room to provide their thoughts on technique, best practice and the publishing game experience.

To discover my gospel on story, narrative style and the debut novelist’s lot, click here.  And, if reading my ramblings isn’t enough for you, keep an eye out for the site’s analysis essay contest in future days.

My father turned 70 earlier this year and, in keeping with a longstanding tradition of familial ‘burban’ (combo of bush and urban) poetry, I penned a little tribute:

‘The Net’.

It centres on the legendary cricket net Dad built for his eldest boy (that would be me) in our suburban Brisbane backyard.  It still stands today, some thirty years after the concrete slab was first poured.  Last year, during my little family’s return to Australia for the Kindling book tour, a small ‘inukshuk’ was erected beside the net to honour our Canadian links and watch over the Old Faithful.

Read it and raise a glass: To fathers, fantasies and fields of dreams!

The Net

We all sat around sharing a few beers
The Canucks and one lone Aussie lad
And a question was raised that pricked up our ears
What comes to mind when you think of your Dad?

As the answers poured forth, I must confess
There were too many memories of fun;
Coolum Beach, the Pope and shared Maroon stress
How could it be narrowed to just one?

Cryptic clues hinting treasure of a BMX bike,
Gaythorne’s last train docking bay;
There was the ‘Sheriff of Richmond’ patrolling the dike
And the ‘Blowfly’s wobbly jaunt the next day

Then one gem burned bright like a hinterland fire,
An epic surely penned by the Bard;
A bastion of dreams, a fort of desire:
The cricket net Dad built in our yard

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