Category: Uncategorized
-
My life story recycled by an op shop
Here’s another old column from Son, give me back my trousers. In my defence, I’m busy writing my next novel. I KNEW MY old neckties would come in handy one day. My eight-year-old son came home from his school holiday program last week and asked me if I had one or two to spare. Apparently,…
-
The Burpers, The Farters and The Punk
The punk with the green mohawk and a safety pin through his nose examined his bloodied knuckles, then started sobbing. He had just smashed the thick window beside him on a London Tube in 1980. Broken glass was everywhere. Over his leather jacket. Over the seat. Over the floor. And I was the only witness…
-
The loosing of wisdom
Does anyone know what the going price is for wisdom teeth? I am only asking because my dentist says she’ll keep an eye on one of mine but eventually she’ll probably have to remove it. I happen to be on first-name terms with the Tooth Fairy, a relationship forged 25 years ago when my son…
-
Before I became a writer, I wanted to be Robin Hood
Like most boys, my ambitions were once wildly unrealistic and prone to sudden change. At seven or eight, my career plan shifted decisively away from cowboys and towards outlaws. Specifically Robin Hood. Before that I’d been fully committed to life on the frontier. I even had an Indian identification wall chart in my bedroom in Tasmania and…
-
The Iceman cometh to a sticky end
This is a column I wrote years ago — and used in one of my early eBooks, called Son, give me back my trousers. WOULD SOMEBODY please remind me to take my trousers out of the freezer? I put them there the other night, amid the peas, carrots and meat, because I sat on some…
JOHN MARTIN'S TALES 