Narrative Transport. The official Michael Pryor website.
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  • February28th

    Hot on the heels of last week’s Aurealis Award ‘Best Fantasy Novel’ shortlisting, ‘Gap Year in Ghost Town’ has bobbed up again, included on the CBCA’s 2018 Notable Books List. Yay!

  • February27th

    Good news, everyone! I’ve managed to rack up two Aurealis Awards shortlistings!

    Gap Year in Ghost Town has been shortlisted for Best Fantasy Novel and my short story ‘First Casualty’ (from the groundbreaking ‘Begin, End, Begin’ anthology) is shortlisted in the Best Young Adult Short Story category.


    These are my eighth and ninth Aurealis Award shortlistings, and congratulations to the many fine writers I’m humbled to be listed alongside.

  • February25th

    Let’s face it, a Martian Invasion is pretty much inevitable. It’s just a matter of time before our solar system neighbours finally press the big green ‘Go’ button and blast their way Earthwards. After all, they live on a really dreary piece of real estate. All that red dust! I’m sure that right now those dangerous little munchkins are voting on the best way to send their armed hordes across to our green and lovely planet. I can just imagine the polls they’re running: ‘Which ray would you use on the puny earthlings? Death Ray, Heat Ray or Blaster?’

    That’s what they’re like.


    As we don’t know when the Martian Invasion will come, it’s important for us all to get ready. There’s no point waiting until the flying saucers are hovering over our most loved monuments, government offices and other food sources to start wondering what to do. Preparation is the key, so I’ve put together a few handy tips.


    1. Read your Martian-English Dictionary really carefully. It’s too late to start leafing through pages when the battle drones start marching down your street. You need to be able to yell ‘Look behind you!’ in flawless Martian without even thinking about it. A few other phrases to memorise: ‘It’s not me you’re looking for’, ‘My mother is a Martian’ and ‘Would you mind standing on that train track for a while?’


    1. Invent an Anti-Martian Spray. Now, I know that this might be a bit tricky, but a Martian Invasion is no picnic either. Start with basic principles. Investigate how mosquito repellent works, then apply the same sort of thinking to an Anti-Martian spray. That should work.


    1. Keep an eye on the heavens using your telescope. Hint: this is work best done at night. I know, I know, this means going without sleep, but no pain, no gain.


    1. Exercise. Remember: when the Martians land near your home, you don’t have to be the fastest runner around, you only have to be faster than the slowest runner around. Lots of exercise is also good because you’ll get nice and skinny. I think we have to assume that the Martians are going to eat us, so it’s best to be as unappetising as possible, right?


    1. Weapons. Forget the usual guns and missiles. Martians just laugh at this sort of stuff, thanks to their incredibly advanced science. And they’re also very easily amused, apparently. A knock-knock joke really breaks them up, which tells you something. I mean, if you laugh at that sort of of thing, you’re probably full of all sorts of evil stuff, right?


    Where was I?


    Weapons. Just get hold of some of those things that use the Martians’ single weakness against them. Whatever that is.


    1. Build a giant flying saucer in your front yard. This is clever. When the Martian battle fleet hovers over your neighbourhood, the Martian commander will look down through her Vision-o-Scope (or whatever) and say, ‘Okay everyone, let’s move on. We’ve got this part of the puny earthling world under control.’


    A word of advice. Don’t run outside and make rude gestures at the departing Martian battle fleet until it’s a long way away. Those Vision-o-Scopes are probably dynamite.


    1. I love this one. It’s a variation on Number 6, above. This time, you climb onto your neighbour’s roof (the neighbour with the really annoying dog that just won’t shut up) and paint a huge sign on the tiles: ‘Martians Go Home!’ So while the Martians are going all ballistic on your neighbour’s head, you can stand there and laugh. Except if they use some sort of high-powered neutron inhibitor bomb which would crack open the earth’s crust in an area  ten kilometres square. Laughing wouldn’t help much then.


    On second thoughts, maybe you could try writing: ‘No Tasty Earthlings Here (Puny or Otherwise)’ but maybe a low profile is the best idea. Paint your roof to look like a desert or a swamp or something. Martians won’t get suspicious of a swamp in the middle of a residential neighbourhood. They’ll probably just go: ‘Those crazy (and puny) Earthlings! A swamp in the middle of a desirable neighbourhood! Go figure!’ Then they’ll cruise on and blow up a monument or something.


    1. Get your Martian disguise all dusted off and ready so you can infiltrate their headquarters and steal their plans or their super-science stuff or their money. Of course, since no-one has actually seen a Martian yet, this might be tricky, but that’s your challenge. Use your imagination. Green is probably a good start.


    1. Get ready to bribe them. Since our weapons will be useless (apart from making them laugh) maybe bribery will work. We’re working in the dark here, not knowing what will appeal to these evil invaders, so it’s probably best to stockpile lots of everything. When your neighbours complain about the mountains of old tyres or rotting cabbages or dog collars in your backyard, just tell them they’ll be sorry when the Martian Invasion comes. They’ll leave you alone after that, I’ll bet.


    1. Get used to being called ‘Puny Earthling.’ Don’t get mad about it. It’s just a Martian thing.


    A Martian Invasion need not spoil your day, as long as you prepare for it properly. Thinking about your home and what you can do to make it an impregnable fortress is just common sense and will allow you to lead a long and happy life under alien occupation. And remember, you don’t need to salute the Martian Overlords if you defeat them singlehanded!

  • December12th

    If you want a great holiday read, look no further. Available here.

  • December9th

    Some time ago, I was in a room of thirty or so YA writers, editors and other industry people when one writer declared, ‘I know you’ll all agree with me that what makes a good book is a chance for us all to have a massive cry.’ She was rewarded with enthusiastic acclamation and high fives all around – except for me. I was sitting there gobsmacked. Not just by the statement, but by the total and uncritical acceptance of it.

    I understand the pleasure that comes from emotional release like that. So did the Ancient Greeks, and they called it ‘catharsis’. Somewhere along the way, though, the serious nobs forgot that Aristotle et al fully understood that catharsis can come from tragedy or comedy. The purging, the emotional release that comes in those moments of heightened feeling can come from an uproarious laugh as much as it can come from weeping.

    The trouble is, there appears to be a false equation in the ranks of book people. That is, serious subject matter = a text to be taken seriously = a valuable and worthwhile text.

    I call bullshit on that.

    The converse, and generally accepted view, is that books that inspire laughter are lightweight, trivial, not to be taken seriously – therefore not valued. The accepted view appears to be that there’s nothing to be learned from laughter and lifting of spirits and that books that explore defeat and disaster are more worthy than books that end with triumph.

    This stance is standard in literature circles, and YA literature isn’t free of it.

    Bart Simpson once said ‘Making teenagers depressed is like shooting fish in a barrel.’ Too easy, in other words. Want to try something difficult? Try writing something that makes readers laugh, that lifts them up, that gets them seeing that the world isn’t thoroughly black, crushing and defeated. If it’s a choice of outlooks between the nihilistic and defeatist Rick Sanchez and the effervescent optimism of Joy from Inside Out, I know which one I’d choose.

    ‘But the world isn’t like that!’ I hear you say. ‘The world is full of despair and crime and horror and so books that reflect that are more true!’ Again, I call bullshit on that. The world is not full of darkness. Darkness is there, but so is hope, love, laughter, mistaken identities, puns, and triumph. An unrelieved rollout of texts that solely concentrate on the darker side of life is a fundamentally dishonest representation of life because, let’s face it, typical everyday lives are far more likely to contain laughter than death.

    So what’s going on here? Why are books full of darkness and despair anointed as more worthy than those that are full of comedy and wit? Why is there a view that ‘resolutions that provide uplift do not necessarily reflect the complexities of life’? It’s simply a matter of siding with convention, I suspect – and, perhaps, a lack of knowledge and understanding of the alternative. For instance, I defy anyone not to see the labyrinthine complexities of life explored, uproariously, in Terry Pratchett’s Going Postal, with its pointed and insightful commentary on bureaucracy, greed, family relationships, technology and human frailty. Gut-busting, erudite, poignant, eye-opening, dazzling and trenchant all at the same time, it’s an examination of the human condition that leaves you with a smile on your face instead of being crushed.

    Which is apparently not a good thing.

    Perhaps there’s some sort of snobbery at the bottom of it (bottom – heh). Is comedy seen as coarse and common, while other aspects of humanity such as suffering and misery are loftier? Of course comedy has fart jokes, but it can be so much more than that – even if a well timed fart joke is a side splitter.

    I implore you, don’t neglect funny books. I maintain that the best of them are just as important, just as valuable and just as insightful as the best of other books, the ones more traditionally deemed as worthy.

    And, of course, ‘worthy’ ends up as being a synonym for ‘acceptable to study’.

    Some advice here, though. Please, don’t do the reluctant and half-hearted thing and tentatively step into comedy via earnest dark comedies, those already awarded the status of ‘nearly suitable for inclusion in a serious person’s reading list’. Most of them are dire and unlikely to get you laughing out loud. They’re often dealing with a serious subject and using ham-fisted comedy to make a point.

    Spare me.

    Instead, go for something without pretensions. Look for books that are genuinely trying to make you laugh, the wild, the off-beat, the outré and the bizarre. The skill involved in writing this is extraordinary, and the craft is thoroughly worth analysing and appreciating. It could be outright farce, it could be black comedy, it could be satire, it could be parody, it could be romantic comedy, whatever. Look at the writer’s technique in creating the moments of laughter, and you’ll find it’s as rewarding as looking at any downward character spiral.

    Explore the great comic characters, too. What makes them so memorable – and it’s not always because they’re fools or that they’re a clown that cries. Look at Bertie Wooster, look at Harry Flashman, look at Mia Thermopolis. Why do they make us laugh so much? Why are they so memorable? Why do they get us returning to re-read their exploits again and again, even if we know every punchline?

    And, above all, look at Terry Pratchett. Profound, humane, moving and very, very funny. He makes you laugh, and we need more laughter in this world, after all, not more crying.


    Look, I know and accept that a book can make us cry and make us laugh. That’s not the point of my essay above, so let’s not get into that topic right now, okay? Another time, maybe.

  • November23rd

    I know I’m not alone when I say that I can’t wait for the day when robots are everywhere, making life easy for us so we can lie on the beach or sleep in until noon or apply stucco to walls or whatever we’d like to do if it wasn’t for work getting in the way.

    Having said that, I fully understand that this period of bliss will be followed by the inevitable Robot Uprising. It’s not surprising, when you think about it, that a time of unlimited labour-saving devices taking care of our every whim will be followed by a nightmarish hell when the robots, en masse, turn on their masters. It’s unavoidable, really.

    So being the sort who likes to plan ahead, mostly by scribbling ideas on Post-it Notes and then forgetting about them until they turn up on the sole of my shoe, I thought I’d share my three best ways to prepare for the Robot Uprising.

    1. Know Your Enemy. If the world of movies is any guide, robots will come in all shapes and sizes. While you’re lying back in your hammock and wondering if an umbrella or a spray of tropical flowers would look better in your coconut shell encased refreshment, don’t forget to inspect your RoButler or Steel Stephen or whatever your metal slave is called. Look for weak spots. Test its reflexes by dropping your sunglasses in its path. Try to confuse it with contradictory demands. Your life may depend on it.
    2. Get fit. Don’t worry, this is relative. All you have to do is to be able to run faster than your neighbour when the hordes of angry, chrome-plated insurgents come down your street. The key here is to keep an eye on your Gym-O-Rama Personal Training ‘bot. Fitness, in the hands of your robot underlings, can be dangerous. While you’re putting in those kilometres on that treadmill with Artificial Intelligence, it’s a perfect opportunity to propel you through the third storey window. Strapping yourself into an enhanced exercise bike is just asking for trouble. I think you can imagine the mayhem when weights machines run amuck.
    3. Find a Refuge. When it comes, this machine-made Armageddon will require some speedy residential relocation. You’ll no doubt have noticed that some canny Real Estate agents are already advertising remote properties as ‘Perfect for the Robot Uprising!’ but you need to get out and about. Bring back the Sunday drive as you embark on scoping expeditions. Look for places easy to defend, perhaps surrounded by water. Smack bang in the middle of a swamp is good, as the mud plays hell with robot moving parts, but may have a few drawbacks like malaria to contend with. Don’t discount an underwater refuge, but most of these have been snapped up by Master Criminals and Evil Overlords so they may be in short supply.

    With some preparation and a little care, the upcoming Robot Uprising needn’t inconvenience you at all. A few simple precautions such as I’ve outlined will help you survive the reign of terror that our once trusted servants will wreak upon us, where civilisation will crumble and fire will most likely fall from the heavens. Good luck!

  • November15th

    Community Sherlock – various incarnations Cards Against Humanity
    Star Wars 1984 M. Python
    Pulp Fiction Doctor Who Oscar Wilde
    LoTR Superman Wizard of Oz
    Three Musketeers Telestrations The Sweeney
    Dorothy L Sayers Arrested Development The Castle
    CS Lewis Erza Scarlet Lord of the Rings
    Silence of the Lambs Shane Firefly
  • September21st

  • July16th

    Exciting stuff. We’re having a big launch for Gap Year in Ghost Town – and you’re invited!

    With the publication of GYIGT due next month, a carnival launch will be held at Readings Kids (315 Lygon St, Carlton) at 6.30 on 17 August. I’m excited that Leanne Hall, author of This Is Shyness, Queen of the Night and the award-winning Iris and the Tiger will be launching my book, so make sure you mark this date in your diary and get there for the promised sincerity, hilarity and conviviality.



    Yes, RSVPing to would be appreciated. Catering and stuff like that, you know.



  • May29th

    Here’s a teaser for my newest book, ‘Gap Year in Ghost Town’, coming in August 2017 from Allen & Unwin.