The second issue of annual digital magazine Open Field is now on the iTunes store.
The easiest way to download it for your iPhone or iPad is to use the link on the Open Field website.
But why should you?
Well, for $4.50 you can enjoy work by 30 talented women, including writing from Elif Shafak (Honour), Emma Donoghue (Room), Claire Messud (The Emperor’s Children) and Lily Brett (Lola Bensky), art from actor-painter Ione Skye, as well as photos, a poem, a video and a song!
Should you wish to download the first issue you’ll find writing from Fatma Bhutto, Anne Summers, Claudia Karvan and Alice Garner, art from Louise Weaver, a story from musician Sally Seltmann, and an interview with restaurateur Nahji Chu. It’s awesome, if we do say so ourselves.
No one involved in the creation of Open Field was paid to do so. Not the contributors, editor, or the hardworking people at The Royals who stopped work on other projects to make Open Field. Proceeds go to the charity CARE to assist them with their programs that help women in developing communities. So it’s one group trying to step up for another, offering more funds than we could if we were to dive into our separate, less-than-impressive bank accounts.
We hope you’ll take a look, enjoy the magazine, and know that the price you paid is going to a good place.
Wolves are amazing animals. Anyone who watches Game of Thrones or has travelled wilderness areas of the northern hemisphere or has heard a wolf’s spine-tingling howl knows this. Wolves are entrancing, enigmatic.
Earlier this year I read Mark Rowland’ s book The Philosopher and the Wolf. Rowlands writes about the eleven years he spent with a wolf called Brenin. While you may not agree with the conclusions Rowland came to as a result of this incredible interaction, I promise you’ll find the story, and his take on human nature, fascinating. Continue reading
Listening to writers read from their work and talk about it is a treat. Here are some gems I’ve heard lately, not all new but all terrific.
Joan Didion reads from Blue Nights and is interviewed by Jeffrey Brown on PBS News Hour. My admiration for this woman is limitless. To see a snippet of her in her youth, watch this 1970s NBC interview with Tom Brokaw.
Junot Diaz (pictured above) talks and talks, and also reads from his amazing book of linked short stories, This is How You Lose Her. Continue reading
I listen to a lot of podcasts. Most of them are about books and writing, popular culture, current affairs. I listen to podcasts when I’m walking my dogs, doing things domestic, or filling my supermarket trolley. I listen because having smart talk in my ears makes dull tasks more than bearable – I look forward to time with my people. Continue reading
Last night I met a friend for dinner. She’s great company: smart, well-read, relaxed and funny. She and her husband, a doctor, live in a Melbourne mansion they renovated themselves. Their country house has featured in several magazines. They have three children.
My friend told me she’d been in her kitchen that morning when she heard her five-year-old son – let’s call him Max – shouting. He stood in their back yard, on the grass near the high wooden fence yelling, ‘Fuck Off’.
She told him to come inside immediately. He stared at the fence and shouted ‘Fuck Off’ with extra vigour. Continue reading
I’ve written one article about sleep, and yet it’s a topic I’m asked about often. Granted, I have talked about my sleepless nights a fair bit.
Since writing my one piece – which tracks the time I spent at sleep school with my baby son – I’ve visited a sleep shrink, tried pills, meditation, mind exercises, naturopathy, and read about sleep. In response to another email asking me if I ever conquered my insomnia (and if so, how so), I figure it’s time to share what I’ve learned. Continue reading
I got my first job when I was fifteen years old. Every Thursday from 5pm to 9pm and Saturday from 9am until noon, I worked as a shop assistant at Fay’s Shoes in a monstrously huge, loud, fluro-lit shopping centre that boasted it was the largest in the Southern Hemisphere. This boast was repeated to me by Fat Terry when he hired me.
I would never have been brave enough to call him Fat Terry – that’s what one of the other shop assistants, Tracy, called him. She was the only one who seemed relaxed about working, who made jokes, who wasn’t grateful. She took cigarette breaks with Terry by the back door, near the sink full of dirty coffee mugs. I tried to be her friend but another girl beat me to it.
That’s not the point. Continue reading
I go to the library to write because the library has no internet. That’s what I tell myself. Continue reading
I spent this morning walking the dirt track around Melbourne’s Albert Park Lake with an incredible woman. We met years ago, lost one another, and then found one another again when I approached her to write for Open Field. In the interim years, she’s published a collection of short stories, a novel, numerous reviews and articles for the Age newspaper and magazines of repute, and raised two children. She’s kind and funny, too.
She couldn’t write for our humble publication because she was wading into a large commission for The Monthly magazine. A few days ago she filed an 8600-word article with them that we should all read. I’ll spruik it as soon as it’s out. I’m not pushing her work because of my delight in our fledgling friendship, but because as we walked, glancing at newborn signets, skiffs on the lake, and the low, leaden clouds heading our way, I grew increasingly horrified at what she was telling me. Continue reading
No matter how grim things get, remember there are wonderful people in the world doing wonderful things. Not everyone is an asshole. This man isn’t setting out to fix the world, but he made me smile, and lifted my day from dark to sunny, even if only for a few minutes. Here’s hoping he does the same for you.