My heart belongs to...

Thinking about past literary crushes.

In no special order:
Andrew McGahan. Wrote his first novel working as a Centrelink mail sorter. Love this even more now that the dole Fortnightly Commonwealth Arts Stipend has fallen out of fashion a bit.
John Birmingham. Adored him ever since he wrote for Semper. Crazy ex-housemate claimed to have lived with people in West End who'd shared with Birmingham and had hated him for selling out. That sealed the deal.
Do detectives count? Lord Peter Wimsey. And Albert Campion.
Jon Ronson. Hi-larious.
PJ O'Rourke. Mean. Republican. Wrote lots about sex and drugs.
Boris Johnson. Not exactly literary. But oh, he does turn a nice phrase.

Status report

You: ''How's your thesis going?''

Me: ''Yeah, no, great, thanks. Should be done any day now.''

But IN FACT...

09.21am Mainline Nescafe and nurture huge internet crush.

09.38am Google The Wretched Tale of Little Stevie Wright and The Damage Done.

09.53am Use postgrad reciprocal lending to get copies mailed up from NSW.

10.06am Factiva "Jack Marx" AND "All dates" GET.

4.40pm Realise Marx is ''hat wearing journalist Jack Marx'' of Sex and Money fame infamy. Crush deepens.

4.44pm Dimly aware Marx maintains regrettable silence on all matters pertaining to Timor, oil, online news, business reporting.

4.45pm More Nescafe. Peruse Radar archives.