Tag Archives: Joanna Walsh

On the Edges of Vision longlisted for the Saboteur Awards

Some nice news this morning – On the Edges of Vision has been longlisted in the best short story collection category, alongside others such as Janice Galloway’s Jellyfish, Joanna Walsh’s Vertigo and Helen Oyeyemi’s What is not Yours is not Yours.

On the shortlist is Lara William’s Treats, which I read and thought was excellent, as well as Dinosaurs on Other Planets by Danielle McLaughlin, which is high on my tbr – you can see the full lists and vote for your favourites to win here.

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Endless Reads Review: Fractals by Joanna Walsh

I’ve lost the last five or so days to feeling rotten with a feverish cold, so this post is rather overdue. My review of Fractals is up on The Female Gaze:

 

Imagine prose with a kind of precision haze to it. Opaque and crisp at once. A breath of rich perfumed air hanging over a city built and long inhabited only by women. Or else imagine a spell, an incantation, that goes through numerous iterations and leaves the listener rapt, but gives no answers as to what was being powered through enchantment – only the certainty that enchantment is occurring. I am being vague, I know – but it is hard to speak of Walsh’s collection of short stories without grappling with the delightful contradictions wrought by each story.

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I have also received some exciting but tenuous news about my first ms Kilea. A press is strongly considering it, and in the coming weeks will be working with me on some suggestions on how to improve the manuscript. There’s no guarantee of anything, no contract promised, so I won’t name the press at this stage. But I am hopeful, really. I have a great deal of respect for this press and love what I have read of the books they have put out. So I will have to do my best to tighten and polish Kilea, turn and tune it until it gleams.

 

I have had some positive feedback on my second ms, Flesh of the Peach, and await word back from agents who are considering both it and Kilea in the light of this opportunity. For the time being, there is the third novel in progress, which I’ve had no time at all for, between Rome and being knocked flat by sickness. Maybe today or tomorrow I can finally get back to it. I’m excited to see where it’s going – characters beginning to form out of the fog and the muddy snow, narrative glutting and reaching out and dividing like cells, to make something whole. While I wait, this is, always to me, the best sort of work.

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