Why do I write? This is like being asked why do I breathe, eat, sleep; and the short answer is because it is impossible to do otherwise. Even before the first geographical dislocation in my life (the 1000 mile move, at the age ol7, from Melbourne to Brisbane which are two different countries), I found it necessary to tell myself stories - and indeed to write them down In little notebooks - to explore the meaning of the bewildering contradictions I kept bumping into. From my first day at school, I felt like a space voyager, travelling daily between alien planets whose languages and customs were incomprehensible to each other. (This turned out to be good training for the rest of my life.)



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