Author Archives: Karen Whitelaw

Writing from the forgotten senses

For three days last week the wind blew the rain horizontally. It pelted against the window glass and the drops sounded like someone throwing sharp needles. Last week I’d given myself a writing challenge: to write somewhere different each day, … Continue reading

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Love the Details

Details should be more than a writer’s friend; details should be our lover. Get intimate, close up. Slow down. Examine him/her with intense and specific attentiveness. Details make the place in our writing real. Whether it’s travel, memoir, stories or … Continue reading

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New York – The Last Supper

   The Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station epitomises New York for me, so it’s fitting that our last meal would be an early lunch here before we head for the airport.  Every time we visit we sit up at … Continue reading

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December Rain – New York City

            

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Christmas in New York

   Sometimes the only way to get where you want to go is to crawl @Rockefeller Centre skating rink.   

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New York

   New York City is in the midst of an Australian winter. Not that it would describe the unseasonable warmth that way, but for us Antipodeans that’s what it feels like. I’ve come with a suitcase of down and haven’t … Continue reading

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Short Story Competition

  The Newcastle Short Story Award is now open to Australian residents. You’ve got until midnight on 31st January 2016 to polish up your best story under 2,000 words. The shortlisted stories from the inaugural competition in 2012, including one of mine, … Continue reading

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A Literary Cafe in Paris

Today La Closerie des Lilas in Montparnasse is a far cry from the café where Ernest Hemingway wrote the first draft of ‘The Sun Also Rises.’ I had come expecting to find something comfortably modest and inexpensive, although ‘large enough … Continue reading

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Paris

Lunchtime in a brasserie on the Place de la Sorbonne. This customer sat at the table next to us.

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Living a Dream – Day 20

Our last day in Menerbes. I was sitting out on the terrace this afternoon writing and someone in the valley lit a large fire. Australians tend to panic at the first whiff of smoke, but we’ve learned here that at … Continue reading

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