G.S. Johnston's Blog

So, like, last Friday I went to the Greta Thunberg inspired climate change rally in Canberra.  I was hesitant to go, not because of any disagreement with the rally’s ideas […]

About the book: Seven shots ring out in the silence of Victoria’s rolling Barrabool Hills. As the final recoil echoes through the paddocks, a revered sheep-breeding dynasty comes to a […]

When I started diligently planning the promotion of Sweet Bitter Cane, I did a twirl around the interweb to find exciting novel review sites.  Sweet Bitter Cane is my first […]

So many memories live in a very small old house on the East Coast of Tasmania; people, events, things.  Time and time, by the hour, by the minute some days, […]

The part of Tasmania I grew up in was awash with Anglo-Celtic names, all Campbells and Smiths and Davies and Inglis and Williams and Jacksons and Johnston/Johnson/Johnstones.  But sprinkled amongst […]

The link between the image and the word was exploited in illuminated manuscripts, a rich and varied sematic cross-pollination, a case of one plus one equalling five.  At first glance, […]

The link between the image and the word was exploited in illuminated manuscripts, a rich and varied sematic cross-pollination, a case of one plus one equalling five.  At first glance, […]

Only twice have I been more than a few car-hours from the sea. It’s not such an aberration as in Tasmania you can’t really get more than that from the […]

A few years back when I cleared out my parents’ house, I found some of the long-forgotten books of my youth, packed in a taped-closed box at the back of […]

It’s funny how it all unfolds. I was as busy as a scalded cat, driving our ailing ancient cat to the vet, then picking up a friend’s ancient ailing dog […]