Kylie Maddox Pidgeon is a Sydney based psychologist, who is also an introvert. The world needs more psychologists who are introverts, because there are some psychologists who are extraverts but appear to have little real-world understanding of introverts. To put it mildly. One once told me I needed to be more outgoing, because I seemed to be too reserved. Thanks for that.
Kylie is a psychologist, academic and introvert. I met Kylie playing netball in the Blue Mountains in New South Wales and I wouldn’t have guessed she was an introvert. She loves socialising and sparks with energy during conversation, but she says if she overdoes it, she feels drained and can experience headaches.
My favourite analogy when explaining introversion is to suggest introverts have a constantly playing media device in their minds. There’s times we’re able to turn down the volume, say for the first hour or two of a social gathering, but as time passes the volume from our in-built media device begin increasing, as the ceaseless thoughts cascading through our minds begin competing for attention. At some point we need to get away, to somewhere quiet, to make sense of this almost subconscious brainstorming.
But instead of being recognised as an introvert, our sometimes reserved demeanour can be mistaken for social anxiety. Although something else entirely, there is a link between introversion and social anxiety, but as Maddox Pidgeon points out, there is a key difference. Social anxiety occurs when a person is worried about what others will think of them. That’s generally not the case for introverts. If they’ve had enough of being at a party and want to leave, they won’t be concerned at what anyone thinks.
Canberra based Australian crime writer Chris Hammer’s 2018 novel Scrublands was the most read ebook on the Libby reading app this year in Australia. Unsurprisingly, Overdrive, the developers of the app, said 2021 saw record issues of digital titles, with the pandemic resulting in fewer than usual physical book loans, given many libraries were closed because of COVID lockdowns.
‘The Labyrinth’ is shadowed and haunted by strangeness. It is a novel in high realist mode that also has romance elements, if only in the way it encompasses a tragicomic mood and a certain formal audacity that brings to mind the moodiness and restless shifts of late Shakespeare. ‘The Labyrinth’ has a gravity that outstares everything that may seem grey or gaunt in a literary endeavour where autumn seems to sink to midwinter. It is a work of considerable literary artistry.
Being the Ricardos (trailer), by American playwright and filmmaker Aaron Sorkin, brings the life of late comedian Lucille Ball to the big screen. While early reviews of the film – which opened in Australian cinemas last week – have so far been mixed, Australian actor Nicole Kidman portrayal of Ball has been praised by some critics. Simran Hans, for example, writing for The Guardian, describes Kidman as “brilliant.”
A writer’s second book, and having a second child, are similar experiences – difficult – says Australian author Anna Downes, writing for The Sydney Morning Herald. But don’t go thinking books are the same as babies, well, not most of the time anyway.
The difference with books is that one day you must let go. Once your novel is published, its success or failure in the world is out of your hands. You can’t control where it goes or with whom, can’t protect it from criticism. All you can do is love it, be proud of it, celebrate its birthdays, spend time with those who adore it, and maybe rescue it from a dark corner once in a while. Because your work is finally done. Your book comes through you, but it is not part of you. It is not who you are.
Downe’s second novel The Shadow House was published in September this year.
Voting is open for Australian radio station Triple J’s annual Hottest 100 listener’s poll. I don’t hear too much radio format and have come to regard the Hottest 100 in the same way I do the long and short lists of literary awards, a great place to seek out quality music listening inspiration. Voting closes on 17 January 2022, and the countdown can be heard a few days later on 22 January.
The year is 2011, and Will, a young Australian, heart-broken after his girlfriend Laura left him, buys a cheap flight to America. His plan is to spend a few months in New York City, partying and meeting people, hoping he can put the break-up behind him. But not long after arriving in the city that never sleeps, an unsettling incident sees Will pack his bags and travel to a small town in Ohio. Here an old school friend introduces him to Wayne, a former soldier, and Vietnam veteran.
Wild Abandon (published by Allen & Unwin, September 2021), the second novel of Melbourne based Australian author Emily Bitto, tells a familiar story. A displaced person, struggling to find direction at home, sets off into the wide blue yonder, on the belief travel to places new and exciting will be a panacea for their ills.
Once he reaches Ohio, Will begins working for Wayne, who owns a private zoo where he keeps exotic animals. What better way to heal, you might ask, than caring for the beasts inhabiting a menagerie. Better, surely, that the drug infused parties of the big city. But Wayne is man with deep problems, and before long Will is lurching towards another calamity.
