Uhm... I'm still alive. But I'm leaving again.

Hi. Remember me? I'm the guy who set up this blog. Sometimes I even post stuff here.

You've probably guessed from the prolonged silence that I've been a bit busy. Frigging ludicrously busy, actually. And I had a cold for a while there, but you don't really want to know about that, do you? Just sounds like a bunch of excuses on my part, in any case.

So. What's up?

Off to the Sydney Writer's Festival in about an hour. I'll be honest *language warning here, kids* - I'm shitting myself about this one. It's kind of surreal, actually, looking through the programme and seeing names like Peter Carey, Thomas Keneally, Frank Moorhouse, Rupert Thompson and a bucketload of others. And mine. In really small print. The good thing is that I'm a very small blip on the cultural radar, so I can probably afford to panic slightly less, on the basis that nobody will really notice if I stuff up. I'm still really nervous, though.

Other than that, I've been buried in the usual end-of-semester stuff; trying to get caught up on my marking before I get behind on all my new marking, putting together the last lectures etc... and generally dealing with about a million other tiny bits and pieces.

The good news, though, is that soon this will all be behind me, and I'll have time to bury myself in a bit of actual writing and research. Actually, this last six months is probably the longest period in the last ten years that I've gone without doing any creative writing - just haven't had the time, mental space or energy. On the whole, I think it's probably been good for me; even though I'm a little concerned (read: paranoid) that the real reason I haven't done any proper writing is because I've 'lost it somehow', more predominant is the feeling that I just have to get back into it soon. I'm missing it a lot.

Before then, though, as mentioned earlier, it's the Sydney Writers Festival. This should be a fun week, once I'm there.

Before that, though, I have to actually get there. This involves driving, on my own, into central Sydney, finding my way through The Rocks, under the harbour bridge, and thence to the hotel. This in a car with the world's most stupid satnav system, which gives you instructions like.

"turn soon."

Gee. Helpful.

So, keep your fingers crossed for me. With a bit of luck, I'll be able to get online from the hotel, and will blog the festival in my spare time.

And in the meantime, I'm going out for a drive. I may be some time...