This year I’ve been doing a lot of new writing, and entering some pieces in writing competitions. It’s been a really enjoyable thing, and helped me to get that writing muscle into a more regular rhythym.
I’ve noticed my writing has sharpened and evolved. I’m saying more by saying less. My characters are showing more through what they do and don’t do, and not just dialogue. Setting has become just as important as character, if not moreso.
Dare I say, I’m feeling more like a grown-up writer. And I’m loving it.
Recently, I learned a piece I wrote called Palings was a finalist in the 2026 Melton City Libraries Short Story Competition, and it was a fantastic feeling. It’s been a while since my writing did well against others – 2020’s Williamstown Literary Festival’s ‘People’s Choice’ competition was the last time.
I went along to the announcement event with my daughter and partner, and loved being among a room of people all so proud of writing and sharing stories. The compeition was open to all ages across categories from primary school juniors, to primary school seniors, teens, and adults.
As each place and commendations were announced, it was hard not to just soak up the energy of the room, where people with a love of stories and writing were being recognised and honoured. I loved seeing all the younger people proud to accept their awards and get a photo with the mayor. A real proud moment for them.
It came to the adult category, and as each place and commendation was announced, I sat there waiting to hear my name, and eventually I did… first place! I was nervous and excited and shy and gregarious all at once, as happens, and went and accepted my prize and had my photo with the mayor, too.
Judge for the adult category was Australian writer Mark Brandi, and he said some really lovely things about my story:
This was such a beautiful, tender portrayal of grief, loneliness, and the importance of community. I was so impressed by the delicacy of expression and the understanding of the subtle dance of human connection.
Told through the eyes of a lonely widower, it’s a stunning portrait of how small moments are often the most significant.
It’s a masterful, carefully wrought story that appears small in scope, but addresses some of life’s big questions.
What a proud and surreal moment…
These words have have buoyed me in some moments since, when I’ve doubted myself and the ambitious writing project I’m working on now. Thank you Mark.
If you’d like to read the piece, the form below will give you access. Happy reading, and let me know what you think.