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FCAC Writes

Overview

FCAC Writes is a collection of new work by writers from Melbourne’s West and beyond, published online.

In the context of the current pandemic, it is irrefutable that artists’ lives and creative processes will continue to be altered for some time to come. In response, FCAC has invited local writers to explore potential and realised impacts for themselves, in their personal, social and political realities.

Through creative fiction, collaborative pieces and reflections, the writers ruminate on these questions: 

Where are they drawing joy, solace and support?

As artists and community organisers manoeuvring an unraveling climate of disruption and uncertainty, what possibilities do they begin to imagine?

Have new ways of being in community emerged, or existing networks and relationships deepened? What must writers encounter on the blank page?

FCAC Writes 2020 is curated by Bigoa Chuol.


A series of related by tangential thoughts
Nayuka Gorrie

I wanted to write a cohesive essay about the times we are in that would be shared around with captions like, “Ugh, this!” and “very that!” Instead I have lost the ability to be cohesive. I’m not sure if it’s my particular conditions or the general nature of the world. So much is happening at any one point pulling my brain in each direction simultaneously. My thoughts have been reduced to tweet sized grabs that jump from one topic to the next like a chirping wren in the shrubs…

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Unpredictable?
Aunty Rona

COVID-19 had leader after leader invade our TV screens to tell us about the unprecedented times ahead of us, spotlighting the unpredictability of this pandemic and preparing us for the economic ramifications to come. Putting in the groundwork so we can get laid off without a fuss, contracts pulled from underneath our feet and the acceptance of human rights breaches that will come with state of emergency governance…

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Disabled QBIPOC Collective – Pauline Vetuna, Gemma Mahadeo, CB Mako and Hannah Morphy-Walsh

Our lived experiences of disability, race, culture, queerness and class are all very different, as are our voices, storytelling styles and our writing. We want to give readers an insight of what it means to live at these incredibly complex politicised intersections, especially during the pandemic…

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2020 vision
Adut Wol

In October 2019, I saw a psychic who was fortuitously recommended by a friend. Excited about all the positive reassurance and clarity she was offered. I needed some for myself, because hey, why not. I was due some serendipity…

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heaven towards what
Darlene Silva Soberano

In an interview with Thora Siemsen, Kaveh Akbar says: ‘What a poem does is makes what is familiar to us new again.’ For this reason, I frequently cite ‘Object Permanence’ by Nicole Sealey as my favourite love poem. It is a poem that makes love strange—and therefore new. The beloved, for example, is ‘the animal after whom other animals are named’; the human is returned to primacy.

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Born

Eda Gunaydin

I was supposed to travel to London this June, to take part in a summer school for people interested in theory: which I am, even if I am not interested in London, a city where, I find myself remarking often, every second white person seems, to judge from their facial expression, as if they have just stepped in shit. Instead I remain inside my home, and take part in the classes online…

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Life Drawing

Stephen Pham

Took about six weekly overdrawn notifications and driving to Cabramatta’s deposit ATM at 11pm last year to realise that being broke wouldn’t cut it anymore. I’d run out of grant money in February, applied for Newstart in March, and got rejected because I’d rescheduled the job provider appointment, even though I ultimately attended. I put my car repayments on hold, chased up old invoices, and signed a book publishing contract for a $1000 advance. Mum took out a community loan (choi hui) to pay our rent, after I could no longer afford it…

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Breakfast Shift
Maxine Beneba Clarke

Amber quickly rolls onto her side, untangles herself from the blankets, and shuts off the alarm. 4.35am. Her hot breath billows into steam in front of her, cutting through the cold air of her bedroom. She’ll turn the heating on just before she leaves for work, so Sage doesn’t have to get dressed for school in the chill…

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Cursed Images
Cher Tan

In the air, there is gossip but no life. Inside becomes outside; the exterior choked with interiority. Through an LCD window, the world, but at a greater remove. Regardless, distance is bridged by seamlessness. I witness myself glide from one window to the next, each spyhole a portal to a samey existence, mediated by imperialistic hegemony and aspirational desire…

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How Does a Journey Start?
H.Mur and Xen Nhà

At the end of March, I made a swift decision to leave New York City and fly home to be with my family in Melbourne. If it was not for you my dear friend, I would have froze on making such a decision. Before we even knew that we would be living together in New York City, we had taken a drive down Maribyrnong Road out west…

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FCAC Writes is supported by Malcolm Roberson Foundation.


Date & Times

Ongoing

VENUE

Online via Zoom

COST

Free

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