Author Archives: Karen Whitelaw

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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Living a Dream – Day 19

If you’re living a dream, is it supposed to storm? With no lightning, just thunder that goes on for so long you wonder if Thor’s record got stuck? And rain clouds you’ve been keeping an eye on sneak down off … Continue reading

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Living a Dream – Day 18

The morning started with an overcast sky and clear light. There was no mist in the Luberon and the overexposured sky was bought down a stop or two to grey. Daylight saving has ended. The sun and I now got … Continue reading

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Living a Dream – Day 17

Robert Dessaix’s latest book is called ‘What are days for?’ That question keeps popping up in my mind every day here. When I’m climbing up the old stone stairways worn in the middle from centuries of footsteps. Or walking through … Continue reading

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Living a Dream – Day 16

Even dreams can turn nightmarish. For the past fifteen days the words have been in flood. My pens keep running out of ink and my second notebook is almost full. The images, metaphors and scenes are damming up, coming so … Continue reading

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