Hello, friends! I know I promised to be a more frequent presence in your lives, to check in with you, and to share what’s going on, regular-style. But instead of doing any of that… I wrote a novel! Please reward my inconstancy and selfishness by getting your hands on a copy at your earliest convenience!
It’s called ‘Here Are My Demands’, and you can read more about it here, and order a copy here. I’m proud of the way it’s turned out, and grateful to Wakefield Press and Duncan Blachford for making such a beautiful object. But don’t take my word for it! Here’s Ben Walter:
‘Ingenious, compelling and terrifically fun, Andrew Roff’s vision of our political future is more than just believable — it seems almost destined.’
I *promise* (I think) I’ll be back soon to share more details of how the book came about. While you wait, why not pass the time by getting your hands on a copy?
So it’s been more than two years since I posted on this blog. That’s a little awkward! You (one of literally several people who will read this entry) may be wondering what I’ve been up to. Well, it’s like the song says: “Mmm-mm, yeah, yeah / Oh yeah, yeah, yeah / Oh life, oh life / Life, oh life, oh life, oh life / Doo doo doo doo / Life, oh life, oh life, oh life / Doo doo doo.” I hope that clears things up.
My short story collection came out in 2022, and that was a really wonderful ride. I’m grateful to everyone who picked up a copy of the book, and it was fascinating to find out which stories connected with different readers.
Since then, I’ve been reading, and writing, and parenting, and working a day job, and trying to manage the difficult emotions that come with being a fan of Australian rugby union. I’ve been lucky enough to have had a few things published here and there, and — oh — did I mention that I’ve written a novel, and it’s coming out next year via Wakefield Press? I should probably mention that. I’m about to start working with smart people on edits, covers, etc. I love this part of the process, when the thing that has been living a reclusive existence in your brain spills out and you can actually talk about it with others who share your vision of turning it into a book.
Hopefully it won’t be another 24+ months before you hear from me again. Let me tell you that just like a hungover person on new year’s day, I have the best of intentions. I am reformed. I will be an effective communicator and most importantly, I will be a marketing force of nature for my debut novel. Watch this space!
The official launch date for ‘The Teeth of A Slow Machine’, my debut story collection, is rapidly approaching! You can pre-order right now, via the outlets listed here.
When someone at a party asks me the classic smalltalk question, I’ve traditionally responded by mentioning my day job (I’m a lawyer). This is a boring answer, and it feels incomplete, maybe even deceptive, since it glosses over my ‘secret’ identity as a writer. Still, I’ve preferred to keep my personal and writing worlds at a comfortable distance.
Now, with the impending launch of my debut short story collection, and some time to reflect over the holidays, I’m re-evaluating. What do I do? What is my primary field of endeavour? It depends on how you measure it:
Main source of income: lawyering Main use of time and energy: parenting What occupies my thoughts most of the time: writing Professional/creative work that feels most meaningful to me: writing How I like to spend my free time: writing (also computer games) How I’d like to be known/remembered by the wider world: writing
Hmm: inconclusive! This year, just to see how it feels, I might try out ‘writer’ a bit more, as an answer to the old question.
Happy new year, BTW! For better or worse, 2022 promises to be a wild ride. I’ll probably be posting a bit more on here, too, as my short story collection launches, so check back in for updates.
Yes, yes: it’s August, and I’m only just now getting around to my ‘year in review’ post for last year. I don’t know about you, but by the time 2020 finished, I was in no hurry to remenisce…
It won’t surprise you to learn that my writing and reading last year was affected by some external challenges. These included, obviously, the pandemic, but also a messy and drawn-out house moving process, which required us to stay with relatives for several months. Other writers reported that even when they had time, the state of the world made it hard for them to concentrate, or to produce new work, and I know what they mean.
So much for the bad stuff. Here’s some good news:
I won the Peter Carey Award with a story about chicken called ‘Bock Bock‘! This was especially meaningful to me, because the competition is run by some excellent humans including Wayne Marshall and Jem Tyley-Miller, and in 2020 was judged by gun short story writer Elizabeth Tan.
I signed with a literary agent: the indefatigable Martin Shaw of Shaw Literary. Martin immediately went to work on my behalf, and as a result of his efforts, publisher Wakefield Press has picked up my short story collection, due for publication in early 2022!
What I wrote
Most of my energies were devoted to finalising my collection, so that Martin and I could submit to publishers. To that end, I wrote 4 new connected short stories. It was my intention that these would provide a kind of superstructure for my collection, so that all the stories would occur in the same universe and be linked. But it turned out that publishers did not share my vision, and they won’t be included in the collection that comes out next year, so most of my new writing in 2020 came to nothing. For some reason, I don’t really care! It may have something to do with the fact that a short story collection, by me, is coming out early next year (have I mentioned this? That the excellent folks at Wakefield Press will be publishing my short story collection next year? I have? Sorry, I’m still pretty excited).
I also wrote an unrelated short story that, I think, is possibly the strongest piece I’ve written to date. Yes, it will appear in the collection, and in the meantime you will be able to read it in Griffith Review 74, scheduled for November 2021.
Stats
Anyway, I know why you’re really here. You’re here for some charts!
In 2020 I made, for me, what is a tiny number of submissions. Happily, my acceptance rate continues to improve, so I managed to have 5 new pieces published for the third year running.
Above is what this looked like over the course of the year. It was a grim Apr-July, let me tell you.
…aaaand this is the last four years. Submissions have continued to dwindle, as has writing time. My attention turns now to completing a polished draft of my next big project (a novel), so submissions will continue to drop in 2021.
Maybe that’s okay? Maybe I no longer need regular external validation that I am a legit writer, and that I haven’t lost the knack? Maybe. I guess I’m going to find out.
Money
I made about $2,000 from my writing in 2020. Most of that was prize money from story competitions, with a couple of other publications providing the balance. I didn’t do any presenting work last year. I applied for a COVID-related arts grant, but was not successful.
Reading
As for reading, in 2020 I was eagerly anticipating new books by Elizabeth Tan (Smart Ovens for Lonely People) and Patrick Allington (Rise & Shine). I loved their previous work. I couldn’t wait. And… both of these books lived up to my ridiculously lofty expectations. Shirl by Wayne Marshall: also fantastic.
A stand-alone short story that I read in 2020 and that I still think about: ‘Ounya Passed‘ by Daniel Hutley at Overland.
And a longer essay on marathon running, which will pull you in even if you are not a runner: Nicholas Turner’s ‘Run to Feel‘.
Looking ahead
Because I’m writing this in August, I can tell you that I’ve had a couple more successes already this year in terms of story competitions. The new writing, though, has been coming slowly. Turns out caring for two children is even more demanding than caring for one (I’d assumed that they would largely administer and entertain each other).
I am enjoying writing — slowly. I am enjoying reading — slowly. I feel like a writer, even when I am not writing. And the hunger to create remains, but the angst has receded somewhat. Metrics and stats aside, I feel like I am in a good place.
roffwrites 