Hi all! I have a shiny new website that will have all this old blog's previous posts plus heaps of new stuff. I'll be leaving this up as an archive, but it won't have any new content. For news about my upcoming book Zeb and the Great Ruckus as well as all your beloved cantankerous rants, philosophical meanderings and reviews of spray can cheese products, please visit my new website HERE:
Have a fabulous day.
As a teenage music nerd, my bedroom walls were perennially populated by posters featuring various scowling dudes with guitars looking down on me lying on my bed losing myself in my headphones whilst devouring Rave magazine. Growing up I always thought that being a music writer would be the most inconceivably, unbelievably, incontrovertibly cool job imaginable. Years later, I moved into my first Brisbane sharehouse with two wonderful girls, one of whom was just starting to pick up speed as the lead singer of now superstar act the Grates. Her then boyfriend wrote for another local music mag, and it occurred to me for the first time that music writers were actual people who existed in the real world and breathed and ate and drew on the fridge and used the bathroom when you really, really needed it.
It wasn't until late last year, when I'd accomplished the infinitely more arduous task of having my first novel published that I got around to signing up with Rave. In the short time since then I've reviewed countless gigs and albums and squeezed in just a handful of interviews. As a writer, it's been a fun challenge to pump out tiny bite sized non-fiction pieces at a high rate of frequency, as opposed to my primary concern of churning out massive 80 - 100k word fictional behemoths every few years (if that.)
I was devastated when I received news that Rave was shutting down, and not only because of the fact that I will now have to start PAYING for gigs like a total loser. Rave provided valuable exposure for local bands and artists, great opportunities for local writers and photographers and, perhaps most importantly, was an entirely independent operation. Independent media is important; the beauty of working for Rave was that we didn't have to serve anyone's agenda. My editors would occasionally ask me to change a few things here and there, but this was more for content quality than because we were beholden to some corporate giant with vested interests (just look at the whole Rinehart/fairfax debacle at present). Clearly music journalism is nowhere near as important as political journalism, but journalistic integrity is of fundamental importance in terms of filtering what and how information reaching the masses and and we are currently seeing a dangerous erosion of its values which the loss of important independent media sources will only exacerbate. Thank Christ operations like New Matilda and The Conversation are still afloat.
Here are a few highlights from my time with Rave; bands I would never have otherwise heard of, concerts I might never have gone to, interviews with amazing people I would otherwise have never met. Thanks to all the wonderful writers, editors and photographs and bands that I've worked with. This city is filled to the absolute bursting point with obscenely gifted artists and it's been an absolute blast working with a team dedicated to celebrating this this talent. See you at a gig sometime!
INTERVIEW with Jo Nesbo
GIGS
ALBUMS
WILLIS EARL BEAL - acousmatic sorcery
BIG DEAL - Lights Out
STEVE SMYTH - self-titled
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Amazingly, appallingly, astoundingly terrible The cover of Tenacious D’s Rize Of The Fenix (and yes, that is how it’s spelt) features a picture of a penis stylized into the form of a phoenix with flaming wings. If you’re thinking ‘well, that sure as heck doesn’t bode well…’ then you can tell where I’m going with this. It’s honestly almost impressive how terrible this album is. And yes, it’s supposed to be a comedy album, but that’s the other problem. It just isn’t funny. There’s toilet humour galore, which would be fine if the jokes landed once every 20 minutes or so, but the truth is that the whole thing’s about as funny as the Armenian genocide. Even the dialogue interludes are appalling. They sound like a couple of stoned middle-aged men trying to re-enact scenes from Saturday Night Live. The whole shtick of having Tenacious D almost exclusively write songs about what it’s like to be in Tenacious D was entertaining enough on the first album, but on album #3 they are really just flogging a dead horse. And then kicking it. And then piling beer cans on top of its rotting corpse. To top it all off, album closer 39, which basically spends 317 seconds mocking women for being beholden to the passage of time, sounds as though it’s been written with the specific intent of pissing off feminist groups. This album gets one star for the sole fact that it features Dave Grohl on drums. * |
orginal Rave article here
Why hello there!
I have an announcement to make. A big one. As in, the size of an obese elephant with elephantiasis that has had an enlarging rhinoplasty procedure recently undertaken. No, I'm not getting married and I'm not pregnant (after all, any IDIOT can get married or have kids!)
I've found a new publisher and I've entered into a long-term arrangement to give them first rights to all my future books. Which, I suppose, is sort of like a business marriage come to think of it. So if you'd like to provide me with large quantities of expensive silverware and white goods please go right ahead! I chose to sign with Pantera Press for a number of reasons.
1) They asked me. Yes, I know, very droll, but I'm serious. Even after having a moderately successful first book that had rave reviews in a number of magazines and decent sales for a first time author with almost no marketing, as well as getting my second book picked up by another publisher, it was still ridiculously hard to find publishers willing to take a chance on an author who refuses to write crime fiction, erotica, vampire romance or diet tips.
2) Pantera's motto is 'good books doing good things.' They have a strong philanthropic ethos and they support causes such as the Smith Family's Let's Read program and the Walkley awards for excellence in journalism, because reading is fucking important and some people seem to forget that (I'm looking at you Campbell Newman). They also publish the Why vs. Why series, which promotes public debate on issues like gay marriage and nuclear power. I'm not shy about my political views, but I think whatever side of the fence you stand on it's important to be educated and informed about issues and not just shove your uninformed vitriolic diatribe down other people's throats (I'm STILL looking at you Newman!)
3) Pantera are a family run independant business, distributed through Simon & Schuster, one of the largest publishers in the world. This means that they have the innovative, adventurous and ambitious approach of a great indie publisher partnered with the distribution and marketing reach of a large publisher. Also, their royalty rates are insanely generous. I know art isn't supposed to be about the money, but it is hard to keep that in mind when you've just had to sell a kidney so that you can pay for your phone bill. (I've only done this once. It should be fine. Humans have like, six kidneys, right?)
The first book I've given them, which will be out next year, is Adonis Comma Coma. It's a twisted dark comedy that I'm going to describe as being a bit like Arrested Development, only more psychotic and supernatural.
I've just about drunk my own weight in champagne during the last week celebrating, and will now need to drink my own weight in berocca to recover. I want to say a really big thank you to everyone that's supported me so far, whether it's been just reading this blog or my first book or writing reviews on amazon or goodreads or proofing drafts or buying me beers or collaborating on anthologies or whatever. It really does mean the world to me. I promise when you bring out your first book I'll do the same for you! Or you know, your restaurant or particle accelerator or skin moisturiser enhanced with jojoba extract and DNA altering exfoliants or radical quantum theory or whatever the hell else you want reviewed and promoted.
This week, I'm going to give you some advice on romance. Now, I know what you're thinking. It's either A) How did I end up at this page when I was looking for videos of cats playing keyboards??? or B) Why on earth would J. M. Donellan be qualified to give relationship advice? He seems to just post about getting dumped all the time.
I have no answer for A) but in regards to B) I'm hardly going to be the first amateur to deign to impart ill-founded advice. I mean, the Situation wrote a fucking book with advice on dating, I'm pretty goddamn sure I'm more qualified than he is. Not least because of the fact that I realise that a book should consist of more than just 133 pages of narcissistic, misogynistic ranting. And fashion tips.
Sure, love can be a beautiful thing. But let's face it there are plenty of times when it can also be gross, stupid, frustrating, painful and sometimes, just really fucking inconvenient. Maybe they're your housemate. Perhaps you just have the wrong anatomy for their romantic preferences. Or they just said the sentence "I don't know who David Bowie is." Maybe they're dating your best friend and the three of you hang out all the time and once in a while you'll all have a little too much to drink and he/she will suggest you all head into the bedroom together and by the time you realise they were only joking you're already half undressed and then you have to pretend like you were only joking too but they both know you weren't and it gets super awkward and even worse they've seen they embarrassing tattoo that you keen meaning to get removed...
Whatever the case. There are times when being in love in just a terrible idea, so here are my strategies to help you not love someone.
1 IMAGINE THEM AS YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE POLITICIAN
Simple but effective. If the politician in question is ugly and/or the wrong gender for your preferences, even better. Just imagine someone who really sums up everything that's wrong with politics and modern society in general, someone like, oh I don't know...
2 DEVELOP A NEGATIVE PAVLOVIAN REACTION
"Jenny? Oh no, I'm WAY over her. She smells like transmutational butterfly larvae."
Sounds weird, I know, but weirder than tying all your hopes, dreams and happiness to one single human being who is just going to end up decomposing in the ground some day? I think not. Keep a packet of something disgusting in your pocket, like canned chrysalises for instance. Every time you see or think about your soon-to-be-not-loved one, shove something putrid into your facehole. Once you associate the object of your desire with squirming, crunchy larvae, IT'S BYE BYE ROMANCE!
3 INTRODUCE THEM TO YOUR PARENTS
I know this is often what people do when a relationship is going WELL, but this is primarily due to the fact that people are idiots. By the time dear old dad asks them for the sixth time if they got that nose ring because they were hoping to more closely resemble a swine or just to antagonise their deadbeat parents you'll know that all hopes of a happy, successful relationship are dead in the water.
4 THINK ABOUT THE LAST TIME YOU BROKE UP WITH SOMEONE
"Oh god! I can't do crosswords anymore! She used to use words like, all the time! Sometimes in sentences, or paragraphs even! It was our special thing..."
Bear in mind all relationships end, the only variables are when and how badly. Just try and picture that last time, when you listened to the 3 Smith Kings of Misery (Elliott Smith, The Smiths and Robert Smith) on repeat and lived on a daily intake of three bottles of cheap red wine and a family sized block of cadbury chocolate. Actually that last bit doesn't sound too bad, but then there was the bawling over summertime photos, the dividing of possessions, the places, songs, books and movies that were forever ruined. Yeah, that's right. You've got all of THAT to look forward to. Maybe in three months time, maybe three years, maybe three decades but whatever the case we all know that breaking up with someone feels like having your heart torn out of your chest, ripped in half, spat on, then forcibly reinserted via your colon.
So there you have it. Next time you start falling in love and it's going to be the worst idea ever you can thank me for reminding you that's it's the worst idea ever. Send me a thank you email. Maybe with a photo attached. Perhaps a facebook friend request.
Are you single?
My Dearest Queensland, I have just returned from a weekend swimming in your resplendant blue waters at Stradbroke island, followed by two nights in the majestic sunshine coast hinterland, only to return to Brisbane and discover that Campbell 'I hate the arts so much you'd think they strangled my puppy' Newman has scrapped the Queensland Premier's Literary Awards. Bewilderingly, he has deigned to do this during The OFFICIAL YEAR OF READING. Did no one send him a memo? Perhaps they did, and he didn't read it. After all, he has publicly stated that he's 'not into studies and plans.' Not sure how he managed to get an engineering degree, if that's the case...
The money he's 'saving' is a paltry $224 000, an amount that is miniscule in terms of a state budget, but means a great deal to the arts. We are talking about BOOKS here! In the words of George R. R. Martin (via Tyrion Lannister): "The mind need books like a sword needs a whetstone." Newman, it would appear, is all too happy to have some very blunt swords at play.
"If I had to choose between Joffrey and Newman... Hrm. Is there a third option? Stabbing my eyes out with a fork perhaps?"
The loss of the Premier's Literary Award is a devastating blow to the QLD literary community, and if there's one thing I've learnt from a misspent youth reading too many fantasy novels, revenge is a cycle which always ends in joyous victory of good over evil with no sideline ramifications whatsoever. That's why I am, today, right now, announcing the Inaugural Premier's Obituary Award. Whoever can create the most amusing protest (of any kind) against this atrocity, or Mr. Newman in general, will receive:
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+ ZEB AND THE GREAT RUCKUS (Um...it doesn't have a cover design yet...)
1 x copy of Reading Madame Bovary The last (ever!?) book to win the Premier's Fiction award
1 x signed copy of my first novel A Beginner's Guide to Dying in India
1 x signed copy of my forthcoming novel Zeb and The Great Ruckus (Due for release later this year).
20 x new release CDs from both major and indie labels. (From my other job as a music reviewer. Selection will depend on what the hell they give me).
All of this will be hand delivered by me. I'll even make you dinner if you like. (Although I am a terrible cook.)
Email your entries (photos/word docs/media files/whatever you’ve got) to jmdonellan(AT)gmail(DOT)com by June 30th. The winner will be decided on August 30th.
You should also sign this petition to have the award reinstated and check out the Queensland Literary awards, recently established by Krissy Keen and Matthew Condon.
OR: WHY I BASE MY VOTE EXCLUSIVELY ON A PARTY’S CIVIL RIGHTS POLICIES.
Congratulations QLD! Your new premier has a lucky elephant. So presumably everything is going to be just fine! (Not making this up he really does call it his lucky elephant.)
The economy is in permanent flux, that's the nature of the beast. Complaining about the economy being unstable is like complaining about water being wet, ice cream being fattening or commercial radio DJs being moronic neanderthals with all the musical and cultural knowledge of a intellectually impaired iguana with early onset dementia. That is simply their inherent condition.
However, when a government brings in improvements to civil rights, an action, by the way, that can be achieved quickly and at very small cost to the state, then that action becomes very hard to repeal. Newman has made the claim he is going to overturn the civil union act. I'm going to go ahead and bet that he's done that merely to chase the hate vote. Overturning such a recently introduced law would be arduous and, more importantly, unnecessary now that's won this round of game of thrones.
We need to recognise that the myriad changes that a government can bring in during their three year term in regards to employment, taxation and even infrastructure are of course all very important, but civil rights policy should trump ALL of these. Every. Single. Time. Governments and financial conditions come and go. But the rights of every citizen to be treated equal, to have access to uniform rights and privileges and to enjoy the multitudinous opportunities that being a member of this nation and this state should entitle you to, regardless of gender, race, sexual preference or religion, should be indelible and unassailable.
People like to use the term 'rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic' I think a more apt metaphor for this situation would be arguing about the Apollo 11’s interior decoration whilst ignoring its trajectory.
"Hey Buzz, whaddya think, should we put the put the coffee table over by the drapes or near the ottoman? Whassat? Ah...I dunno just make a left at the stratosphere and head for the big white hunka rock I guess?"
GOVERNMENT INQUIRY INTO THE PROPOSED GAY MARRIAGE BILL please go and voice your opinion.
original Rave article here.
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You probably haven’t heard of the pop group Di Derre, but in the band’s native Norway they’re kind of a big deal. However, their lead singer Jo Nesbø, better known for his career as an internationally best selling crime novelist, didn’t always plan on becoming a famous practitioner of the musical and literary arts. Or taking calls from Martin Scorsese for that matter. Nesbø started out his professional career as a successful stockbroker. It wasn’t until two years after the death of his father, who held lifelong literary aspirations that were never acted upon, that Nesbø decided to become an author. “I realized I had to write and in order to do that I had to quit my job. I summed up the money I had, I mean, you’re overpaid as a stockbroker so I knew I had enough to be a writer without income for quite some years and I didn’t really want a yacht or a big summer house. It didn’t feel like taking a risk it just felt like something I had to do. There was no way around it.” Nesbø’s books have been a runaway success both in Norway and all over the world. So much so that when his books were first translated into English, some bright spark at his publisher’s marketing department decided it’d be a smart move to bill him as ‘the next Stieg Larsson.’ Nesbø, in a sardonic Scandinavian accent, comments “Well you know, it was the stickers on my books in the UK. I just saw the sticker, and I thought, ‘well, okay, they say I’m the new Stieg Larsson and … it could have been worse. I could have been the new Dan Brown.’” With Headhunters recently released and Martin Scorsese having just announced that he will film Snowman, the seventh book in Nesbø’s hugely popular Harry Hole series, I ask Nesbø how he feels about the translation of his stories from page to screen. “I think the thing I’m worried about is more to do with how I feel about the story as a writer,” he replies. “If I’m finished with the story, I’m finished with the story. If I see a talented director wanting to tell a story, I’m happy to provide them with material. But I didn’t want to sell the rights to the Harry Hole series because I was worried it would impact on the series that I was still writing. So I said for many years, ‘I don’t want anyone to make a film of it, but if Martin Scorsese calls I might reconsider.’ “So that was a sort of joke,” he laughs, “but as it turned he called and he wanted to make a movie, so I sort of caved in and sold out.” HEADHUNTERS is in cinemas now, rated [MA15+]. The HEADHUNTERS novel as well as the HARRY HOLE series are available now through Random House. www.jonesbo.com |
JOSH DONELLAN speaks with JO NESBØ about the film adaptation of his book HEADHUNTERS and what it’s like to be labeled ‘The next Stieg Larsson.’
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