Podcast appearances and mentions of jessie tu

New Literary Anything episode out now! For this month's podcast, Paula and Salma read Jessie Tu's latest book 'The Honeyeater'. A follow up to the acclaimed bestseller 'A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing', 'The Honeyeater' dives into the world of literary translation with complex characters and an unexpected storyline. But has this story left Paula and Salma with more questions than answers? Listen to find out! They also discuss what they been reading lately (Paula's found her new favourite author) and all the big events we've got happening at the library over the next couple of months. Books they mention: A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing – Jessie Tu The Season – Helen Garner This House of Grief – Helen Garner The Nix – Nathan Hill Wellness – Nathan Hill Freedom – Jonathan Franzen The Corrections – Jonathan Franzen The Housemaid – Frieda McFadden Never Lie – Frieda McFadden The Locked Door – Frieda McFadden The Hit Woman's Guide to Reducing Household Debt - Mark Mupotsa-Russell Great Big Beautiful Life – Emily Henry The Griffin Sisters' Greatest Hits - Jennifer Weiner The Limestone Road – Nicole Alexander Barren Cape – Michelle Prak This Stays Between Us – Margot McGovern Lyre Bird – Jane Caro The Prospect – Fleur McDonald Burial Rites – Hannah Kent Dictionary of Lost Words – Pip Williams Broken Brains - Jamila Rizvi and Rosie Waterland Mum Says My Memoir Is A Lie – Rosie Waterland Just the Gist – Rosie Waterland (podcast)

It's time to run through some of the best books of 2024 with author Jessie Tu.Jessie is a journalist on Women's Agenda and the author of two fiction books, A Lonely Girl is A Dangerous Thing and her 2024 release, The Honeyeater.She's also a book critic with the Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, and someone who reads a lot of books!We share some of our top pics from the year, all written by women across a diverse mix of genres.This is our Summer Series, where we're experimenting with the format of the Women's Agenda Podcast and bringing in discussions with some of the most interesting and intriguing women we know. The Women's Agenda Podcast is produced by Agenda Media, publisher of Women's Agenda. You can sign up for our daily free newsletter here. You can also support our work via our new member platform. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Casey Nott has written a novel about motherhood, identity and loss in ‘Forgotten'.Fay works as a translator but it is her choice of lover and employer that lead to betrayal, ambition and questioning what love means in Jessie Tu's ‘The Honeyeater'.

Sales has watched A Man In Full, and wonders why it hasn't been a global hit. Crabb has a theory, which she unspools at length while indulging her weakness for big-screen megaflops. Also discussed: Miranda July's lady-pleaser All Fours, and Jessie Tu's new novel The Honeyeater. READ FULL SHOWNOTES ON Chat10Looks3.com Listen now on Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Australian Fashion Week hit Sydney last week and the industry, TikTok and punters have thoughts...  We take a deep dive into the ~discourse~ around fashion week shenanigans, and Maggie shares her personal experience of being on ground. We reference TikToks by creators Joely Malcolm and Carmen Azzopardi, Refinery29 Australia and recommend watching this video by Abby Butler. We also reference this piece by Crystal Andrews titled The Unsexy But Necessary Way To Ensure A Truly Diverse Fashion Week.  Next, we chat about book clubs. Are they inspired by the rise in celebrity book-inspo we've seen? We reference this piece by The Cut titled Why Does Every Famous Woman Have a Book Club Now?  In recommendations, Maggie recommends The Honeyeater by Jessie Tu while Jas recommends Why Members-Only Clubs Are Everywhere Right Now by Emily Sundberg for GQ.  At the top of the episode, we share some events we're attending in the coming weeks. They include the Bridgerton Queen's Ball and an evening with Dr. Jane Goodall, live in Melbourne. Hopefully see you there!  Katie Zhou created our fab cover art and India Raine is our wonderful editor and composer of our jingle. Email us at cultureclubmail@gmail.com, find us on Instagram @cultureclubpod, or on our personal accounts @jasmineeskye and @yemagz. This is a DM Podcast.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Today, dreams of soccer stardom clash with a host of familial and cultural expectations. Writer Jessie Tu (Women's Agenda, “The Honeyeater”) is here to break down how "Bend It Like Beckham" (2002) changed the culture, showcased heartfelt father-daughter relationships, and everything happening in that one dizzying nightclub scene. Plus, is this another movie where the sports-romance is not between the obvious characters? Just sayin'.

‘I conflate so many experiences throughout my life with the level of pain I was in at the time.' Amy Lovat, debut author of Mistakes and Other Lovers and founder of Secret Book Stuff, gets real with us about the challenges of maintaining a creative practice with endometriosis. She also discusses writing about the dark side of modern evangelical Christianity, setting her novel in her hometown of Newcastle, and that time she was rushed to emergency in agonising pain and – well, you'll just have to listen. Plus, James and Ashley receive personalised reading recommendations from this master bibliophile! Amy Lovat is a writer, editor and the founder of Secret Book Stuff. She has a PhD in English and Writing from the University of Newcastle and lives with her partner Laura, two dogs, a bird and thousands of books in Gadigal Country, Sydney. Get your copy of Mistakes and Other Lovers or from your local bookshop. Upcoming events  Ashley is appearing at Bloody Scotland on 15 September! Catch her in person in Stirling, UK, or online!  James is in conversation with Hayley Scrivenor as part of the National Young Writers Festival, 28 Sept to 1 Oct Terror Australis Readers and Writers Festival is happening October 26 to 29, and Ashley will be part of two days of panel sessions happening that weekend in the Huon Valley, Tasmania Online: Creative Nonfiction – Ashley is teaching her six-week online Writing NSW course starting 30 October Crafting Narrative Drive – an in-person workshop with Ashley at Avid Reader in Brisbane, Sunday 26 November, 10am-1pm Books and authors discussed in this episode: Stolen Focus by Johann Hari;  Hot Little Hands by Abigail Ulman; Just a Girl by Kirsten Krauth; Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney; Normal People by Sally Rooney; A Lonely Girl Is a Dangerous Thing by Jessie Tu; Friends and Dark Shapes by Kavita Bedford (from ep 24); Adult Fantasy by Briohny Doyle (read Ashley's review); Yellowface by Rebecca Kuang;      Dress Rehearsals by Madison Godfrey; Really Good, Actually by Monica Heisey; Lucy Clarke; Echolalia by Briohny Doyle; Bunny by SE Tolsen; On a Bright Hillside in Paradise by Annette Higgs; The Sun Walks Down by Fiona McFarlane; When One of Us Hurts by Monica Vuu; Plus hear Amy talk about Secret Book Stuff in ep 34!  Ashley's psychological thriller Dark Mode is out now! Learn more about it and get your copy. James' novel Denizen is out now! Learn more about it and get your copy.  Check out Writing NSW's online course program, and Podcasting 101.  Get in touch! ashleykalagianblunt.com jamesmckenziewatson.com Twitter: @AKalagianBlunt + @JamesMcWatson Instagram: @akalagianblunt + @jamesmcwatson

Hiiiiya pals! This month, we're talking all about Jessie Tu's debut novel, A Lonely Girl Is A Dangerous Thing. It's a novel about a young Taiwanese-Australian woman named Jena Lin, who - after being recognised as a prodigy throughout childhood - has re-introduced classical violin back into her life as a 20-something Syndey-sider. We see Jena navigate relationships of all kinds in this book, and how those relationships affect the way she views and treats herself. The novel explores themes like sex, power, desire, and of course, the loneliness Jena can't quite shake. Today on the show, Mich, Zara, and Annabelle discuss it all: From whether you need to like a main character to like a book, to those graphic sex scenes and mysterious, unresolved plotlines. Join us in the all the book chat over on our Insta, @theshamelessbookclub, and our TikTok, @theshamelessbookclub. Or, if you're after some variety, here's a link to record a voice message via our website, too. You can browse the eBook and audiobook versions of past book club picks in our room on Apple Books! Have a look-see right here. (You might spot our little baby, The Space Between, in the mix there, too.) Want to support our show? We are sending air kisses, air tea, and air hugs (too far?) to anyone who clicks ‘subscribe' on Apple (bonus hugs for anyone who leaves a five-star review, too) or ‘follow' on Spotify.  Still not enough? Well! Our hearts! See below for everything else. Click here to subscribe to ShameMore: http://apple.co/shamelesspod Subscribe to the weekly ‘ASK SHAMELESS' newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gFbYLT  Join our book club: https://www.instagram.com/theshamelessbookclub/  Check out our website: https://shamelessmediaco.com/ Thanks for listening! We are very big fans of yours.

Bodies carry and represent so much, these fragile vessels that we are "stuck in" can dictate privilege or oppression not only within ourselves but in wider society. In a talk recorded at our Antidote festival in September 2022, trans and non-binary author, Olivia Laing is joined by host Jessie Tu in a profound discussion about the ideas in Laing's latest book 'Everybody', which draws on figures such as Malcolm X, Andrea Dworkin, Nina Simone and more, exploring the human body and its effect in our world today.-Watch this and other talks from Antidote 2022 on Stream, the streaming platform from the Sydney Opera House. Register for free now and start watching at stream.sydneyoperahouse.com. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Reading Hanya Yanigahara's To Paradise, Gary Shteyngart's Our Country Friends and Nikki May's Wahala with novelist and critic Jessie Tu and poet and performer Geoff Forrester (whose alter ego, Tug Dumbly, also offers up a poem)

"It's such a contradiction in life how much we learn from suffering," says actor and writer Ethan Hawke who tells The Book Show about his fourth novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. Darkness and light is a recurring theme in our other author interviews with American Patricia Lockwood and Australian Jessie Tu.

"It's such a contradiction in life how much we learn from suffering," says actor and writer Ethan Hawke who tells The Book Show about his fourth novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. Darkness and light is a recurring theme in our other author interviews with American Patricia Lockwood and Australian Jessie Tu.

How can we nurture innovation and creativity to rise to the challenges of the 21st century, and allow space for creative thinking? Hear from visionary author, poet, feminist and critic Jessie Tu with Sarah Dingle to discuss how they use creative problem solving to meet challenges in their life and work, and explore what creativity means to us all? Jessie Tu's debut novel A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing won the 2021 ABIA award for Literary Fiction Book of the Year.  Presented by the UNSW Centre for Ideas and the Faculty of Arts, Design & Architecture. Artwork: Lynette Wallworth, Coral: Rekindling Venus, 2012 See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It's a literary hot topics episode, baby! We engage in some capital D Discourse, talking about how saying facts about poetry will get you sacked from your editing job, complaining about Sally Rooney's writing and complaining about complaints about Sally Rooney's writing, and the plague of Gay Sincerity.Poetry editor fired: https://www.dailydot.com/unclick/barren-poetry-magazine-fires-editor-tweet/Jessie Tu's Sally Rooney "review": https://www.smh.com.au/culture/tv-and-radio/surely-there-are-better-literary-heroes-for-our-generation-than-sally-rooney-20210817-p58jfp.html  Gay Sincerity is Scary: https://www.gawker.com/culture/gay-sincerity-is-scary

Beloved author Christos Tsiolkas speaks with Jessie Tu about her debut novel, A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing, a story of female desire and the consequences of wanting too much and never getting it. “As soon as I started reading Jessie Tu's A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing, it was like a drug rush,” said Christos. “I experienced what all of us who love reading desire: to hear a voice – bold and coherent – that we have not heard before. I was elated.” Enjoy this wide-ranging conversation reflecting on respecting the ones who came before, a shared love of American fiction, writing about anger and the craft of storytelling.  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This special episode is brought to you in collaboration with Yarra Valley Writers Festival for the series I Didn't Plan it This Way: Conversations about misguided moments, failed ideas and books that stayed in the bottom draw. In this conversation, Kate Mildenhall talks with author Jessie Tu about musical failures, high expectations, review culture and the idea of failure in her debut novel A LONELY GIRL IS A DANGEROUS THING. Jessie Tu is one of the guests appearing at the 2021 Yarra Valley Writers Festival taking place July 16 - 18 in Warburton. Tickets and full program here. 

You've heard of Nordic Noir but what about Scandi Blanc? Bestselling author Alexander McCall Smith has taken the noir out Swedish crime fiction in his latest series starring the warm-hearted detective Ulf Varg. Also, writer Jessie Tu on her preoccupation with loneliness and a big sweeping narrative about a fictional female pilot who goes missing in the act with US author Maggie Shipstead.

You've heard of Nordic Noir but what about Scandi Blanc? Bestselling author Alexander McCall Smith has taken the noir out Swedish crime fiction in his latest series starring the warm-hearted detective Ulf Varg. Also, writer Jessie Tu on her preoccupation with loneliness and a big sweeping narrative about a fictional female pilot who goes missing in the act with US author Maggie Shipstead.

Australian writer Jessie Tu says the question of female likeability should no longer exist and it's an idea she explores in her fiction. In this in-depth conversation, she also discusses child prodigies, music, racism and even Sex and the City.

Australian writer Jessie Tu says the question of female likeability should no longer exist and it's an idea she explores in her fiction. In this in-depth conversation, she also discusses child prodigies, music, racism and even Sex and the City.

Hello to the girls, gays &&& theys, welcome to another morally and aesthetically random episode of Clitical Thought! Join us as we dissect the highs and lows of life through the modern female experience, by analysing the Australian texts ‘A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing' and ‘New Animal'! We explore how young female writers employ sex as a vehicle for self expression and self destruction, we ask, as a society are we having more sex, but as an extension, more lonely? Why do we want to feel desired more than we want to desire someone else? And when will Anna and Bella STFU about Sally Rooney? Your guess is as good as ours (lol)! Things mentioned: Bill and Melinda Gates divorce!

Taiwanese Australian writer, Jessie Tu, talks to us about how she uses writing to examine her own loneliness and sense of shame. For her, writing is about making sense of these seemingly overwhelming states and recognising that they are not all of who she is.

Joining us on this Fitzroy Writers Festival podcast are two contributors to the Liminal Anthology Collisions: Fictions from the Future. The collection asks the question: What does the future hold? Featuring both emerging and established writers of colour, this collection showcases some of the best work that Australian literature has to offer. The stories are sites for collisions: against Eurocentric ideals, against narrow concepts of excellence, against stagnant ideas of the world to come. But collisions also manifest in the way our lives come into contact with others, how our pasts shift against the present, and how our imaginations sit against our realities. Bryant Apollonio is a Filipino-Australian writer and lawyer. He came to Sydney with his family when he was three and he currently lives in Darwin. In 2017, he won the Overland prize for fiction. Mykaela Saunders is a writer, teacher, and community researcher of Koori and Lebanese descent who has won prizes for fiction, poetry, creative non-fiction, and research. Mykaela was born on Dharug ancestors’ lands in Western Sydney, growing up between there and in Tweed Heads. Collisions: Fictions from the Future is available to buy now at all good bookstores and available to borrow at Yarra Libraries. Yarra Libraries Recommends The Swan Book – Alexis Wright Heat and Light – Ellen van Neervan Land of the Golden Clouds – Archie Weller Born into This – Adam Thompson Where the Fruit Falls – Karyn Wilde After Australia – Anthology 2666 – Roberto Bolano Fictions – Jorge Lius Borges Mona – Pola Oloixarac Blueberries – Elena Savage Don Quixote – Miguel de Cervantes “Collisions felt like speed dating, and that peculiar anxiety of finding myself falling in love with almost every new stranger I meet. Almost every writer in this anthology deserves their own book.” —Jessie Tu, The Age/SMH “In the wake of conversations around racial justice and representation entering the wider public consciousness this year [...] Let us urge you to put Collisions next on your list.” —Monisha Rudhran, Marie Claire “Collisions is full of humour, pathos, anger, warmth, and compassion. Above all, it is full of outstanding writing.” —Tracey Korsten, GLAM Adelaide Our theme is Add And by Broke for Free

When should you start to think about your author brand? How are you going to promote your message and when should you connect with your audience? Featuring Scribe Publications Publicity Manager Cora Roberts and novelist and critic Jessie Tu, this event will give aspiring authors practical tips on all the ins and outs of promotion, including creating and curating a brand, time-management, self-promotion and working with an in-house marketing team. Hosted by Georgia Richter

Naoise Dolan and Jessie Tu were responsible for two of the most bracing, exciting debuts of 2020. Naoise's Exciting Times and Jessie's A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing are witty, bold accounts of the power dynamics of sex and relationships in the twenty-first century, with heroines that deadpan their way through relationships – transactional, erotic and romantic – as they navigate love, vulnerability and ambition and muster the courage to find their true selves. Chaired by Jo Case

Join Peter Goldsworthy for an hour of poetry reading, featuring a line-up of celebrated poets drawn from Writers' Week guests and South Australia's vast pool of poetic talent. Including Julie Janson, Jessie Tu, Nardi Simpson and Adelaide's own legendary street poet, Geoff Goodfellow.

Scottish writer Andrew O'Hagan speaks about the very personal story behind his coming-of-age novel Mayflies, set in Thatcher's Britain to a background of New Order and The Smiths.

Reading recommendations from Jessie Tu, Stephen Romei, Suzanne Leal, Kate and Cassie.

Jessie Tu’s debut novel explores love, sex, and female desire through the eyes of Jena Lin, a Taiwanese-Australian former child prodigy whose journey of self-discovery forms the heart of this book. A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing has been hailed as ‘gutsy, bold and surprising’. Join Tu in conversation on writing complex characters, the model minority myth, and the intersections between power, sex and race. With Alice Pung. Content warning: This podcast contains references to sexual assault, which some listeners may find distressing. Audience discretion is advised. If you or anyone you know needs help, reach out and talk to somebody: 1800Respect 1800 737 732 Safe Steps Victoria 1800 015 188 Lifeline 13 11 14 Recorded for MWF Digital in 2020.Support MWF: https://mwf.com.au/donate/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

~ SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT ~ The Nasty Woman Club wants to hear your horror dating stories! TNWC founder Demi Lynch and author Amanda Starkey are putting together a book about the normalisation of online abuse in the world of dating. Message us your worst Tinder pick up lines, most random places on the internet strangers have attempted to chat you up your most terrible dates and MORE!!!!WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Share your stories, screenshots, receipts and voice memos to info.thenastywomanclub@gmail.com OR onemillionflavours@gmail.comOr feel free to DM The Nasty Woman Club Instagram page @thenastywomanclub .For more information on Amanda Starkey and her new book 'ONE MILLION FLAVOURS' head to her Instagram page @one_millionflavours .'One Million Flavours' is available NOW at blurb.com~ This episode was sponsored by Lipp Media podcast ASIAN BITCHES DOWN UNDER. Each week, sisters and Sydney locals Helen Stenbeck and Jessie Tu give searing intersectional feminist critiques on social and cultural issues relevant to those living in Australia and abroad. In recent episodes they discussed language discrimination, asexuality and polyamory. Podcast available now on Spotify and iTunes.The Nasty Woman Podcast is hosted and produced by Demi Lynch.For more stories on intersectional feminism and women empowerment head to thenastywomanclub.comMake sure to also join The Nasty Woman Club Community Group on Facebook.If you wish to support this podcast and The Nasty Woman Club platform head to paypal.me/thenastywomanclub See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

The Bookstorian Podcast. A podcast for booklovers and bookstagrammers.Books mentioned in this podcast:The Girl in the Mirror by Rose Carlyle.Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie.The Long Call by Anne Cleeves.Vera Stanhorpe Series by Anne Cleeves.Don't believe it by Charlie Donlea.Some Chose Darkness by Charlie Donlea.The Suicide House by Charlie Donlea.Rebecca by Daphne de Maurier.The Woman in the Window by AJ Finn.Dark Places by Gillian Flynn.Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.The Guest List by Lucy Foley.Force of Nature by Jane Harper.The Dry by Jane Harper.The Lost Man by Jane Harper.The Survivor by Jane Harper.The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins.The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen.Truly Devious series by Maureen Johnson.The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides.The Whisper Man by Alex North.Detective Harriet Blue series by James Patterson and Candice Fox.In the Clearing by JP Pomere.Hideaway by Nora Roberts.Home Before Dark by Riley Sagar.Last Time I Lied by Riley Sagar.Lock Every Door by Riley Sagar.Sadie by Courtney Summers.A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing by Jessie Tu.The Woman and The Widow by Christian White.Podcast may contain spoilersBookstagram accounts mentioned:@iamlitandwit@novelmenagerie@theanonreader@ littlewhalewriter@ theteddybear.librarianHost: Teagan @bookstorian_Guest: Ally @whatthedickinson and Bronti @_booksby.bEmail thebookstorianpodcast@outlook.com.auFollow me @thebookstorianpodcastDesign by Emma Russell CreativeMusic from https://www.zapsplat.com

Jessie Tu was a professional violinist for 15 years, studied law, did a stint teaching and is now a full-time writer, with prize-winning poetry under her belt and a debut novel – A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing. She is a journalist with Women's Agenda and has just been appointed one of two new [...]Read More... from Jessie Tu: musician, poet, writer and literary critic

We're thrilled to bring you this special podcast episode celebrating the publication of our second print anthology, New Australian Fiction 2020. New Australian Fiction 2020 collects a number of brilliant short stories from authors from around the country, and in this episode you'll hear excerpts from some of them. Tune in to hear Madeleine Watts, Mykaela Saunders, Jack Vening, Maame Blue and Jessie Tu read from their work, and don't forget to pick up a copy of the anthology to read these brilliant stories in their entirety. You can purchase a copy from our online shop. Want to be a part of New Australian Fiction 2021? Story submissions for the anthology will open in January next year. Our theme song is Broke for Free's ‘Something Elated'. Stream or subscribe: Apple Podcasts / Soundcloud / Google Podcasts / Spotify / Other (RSS) Let us know what you think by rating and reviewing in your app of choice! TRANSCRIPT Alice Cottrell: Hello dear listeners, I'm KYD publisher Alice Cottrell, and I'm very excited to bring you this special edition of the KYD podcast on the publication day of New Australian Fiction 2020, our second print collection of short fiction. This anthology features some of Australia's best-loved writers alongside exciting new voices. And you're going to hear some of those voices today! This episode you'll hear Madeleline Watts, Mykaela Saunders, Jack Vening, Maame Blue and Jessie Tu reading from their brilliant short stories. Enjoy! Madeleine Watts: My name is Madeleine Watts, and this is an excerpt from my short story Floodwaters. We drive a long, straight road beneath slate-grey skies beside the flooded river. The floodwaters surge around trunks of oak and ash, a fast-moving membrane the colour of milk tea. The road is still dry, and safe enough for now. Traffic carries on. The levee isn't expected to break. But the water will soon get into the soil and rot the root systems, says the man driving me in his empty shuttle bus along the highway. The shuttle, which is really a panel van, collected me half an hour ago from the low-security airport bound by corn on all sides. I am its only patron. The interstate takes us past lonely motels looming over carparks. We pass a Kmart, Trader Joe's, Applebee's, McDonald's and then the town. It is, at first glance, like something out of a Golden Age film, a freeze-frame of small town America thatI'd absorbed as a child on the other side of the world in suburban Sydney lounge rooms. But as the shuttle slows down and the town resolves itself through the windows, I can see that it's going quietly to seed. Empty storefronts, flaking paint.The trees are turning red from the top down, and the flooded river bleeds into the land. Nobody is alarmed yet. The river floods often. The driver asks how long I'm staying. A week. And why am I here? To see a friend. He detects an accent. He can't quite place me. Where am I from? How did I end up here? August has lived in the town for two years. He has lived in big cities before, and that is where I think of him still—in a leather jacket, thumbing the screen of his phone, hunched over the bar in Greenpoint where we first met. But now he lives in this plus-size, windy pocket of the Midwest, and he is having the worst year of his life. Three times he has been hospitalised since January, in Illinois, Michigan and Minnesota. A week before I landed at the cornfield airport, he messaged to tell me he thought he might be hallucinating. He was sitting in his living room on a Tuesday night and he could hear murmuring. Hissing. Sounds issued by voices that originated from no human throat. Are you all right? I asked when I saw the messages on my phone the next morning. Yes, I'm fine, he said. It happens sometimes. It's not a big deal. The sunset is paling, settling into the colour of skin sapped of blood. I'm wearing a long dress and clogs. Back in the spring they were brand new shoes, but now the clogs are stained, the wood chipped, the suede watermarked from thunderstorms in the city. My toes are red with cold. The driver turns the heater on and the warm air comes upon me in a sudden gust, over the bare skin of my feet and up my dress.I haven't seen August in over a year, since he got this job teaching at the small liberal arts college in a red state full of cornfields and Protestant churches, and it occurs to me as we slow down in front of a house that matches the address he's given me that nothing is going to be how it used to be. August lives on the top floor of a two-storey wooden building that backs onto an alley. The front door is always open, he told me. There are bicycles on the porch, some rusty chairs, an empty bottle of sparkling wine filled to the brim with cigarette butts. I open the door, climb the flight of stairs to his apartment and knock. Why do you have such a big bag? he asks. I put it down in the hallway and look at him. His hair is unruly but he has shaved and he's wearing his boots. It seems to bode well that he's put on shoes for my arrival. He doesn't look like somebody who, a few days ago, heard murmuring and hissing that wasn't there. It's the only bag I have, I say. He stands there, watching me wander through the rooms of his apartment piled high with books and strewn with orange vials of pills and half-drunk bottles of Gatorade. He doesn't touch me for a full hour, and when at last he comes up behind me, he gently punches the small of my back, holds onto my waist, turns me, pushes me up against the doorframe and coaxes my underwear down my legs. So that's how it is. The wind picks up, and the rain begins to sound on the windowpanes and in every part of the dark cornscape that stretches away from the town. We get dinner at a bar, although he warns me that there aren't many vegetarian options. It's a perennial problem in this town, he says. We first bonded, five years ago, picking pieces of bacon out of soup during that evening in Greenpoint that at the time was not described by either of us as a date, but was. Now the waitress wants to see some ID. I hand over my green card and it takes her a moment to process what she reads. Then she smiles. Welcome to America, she shouts. I nod. I have lived in this country for five years. I order a black bean burger and whiskey. He orders grilled cheese. Do you want it deluxe? the waitress asks. Sure. The sandwich arrives with a blue cheese dipping sauce and many fatty, pink pieces of bacon. I feel rude sending it back, he says. You could take off the bacon? It's a waste. Waste is immoral. A sin. I'll just eat it. His sensitivity to sin is new to me. The very word ‘sin' sounds strange in his mouth. Once a loud representative of America's young socialists, lately August has been talking about becoming a priest. He'll need to lie on the application forms (though by his thinking that should only count as a minor sin) because one isn't supposed to enter the priesthood when diagnosed with a medical condition, especially one that might lead you to believe that the government has installed a computer chip in your brain, or that aliens are keeping tabs on you from their perch in the sky, or that one is a vessel for the voice of the Holy Ghost moving one along a river of divine purpose. To be fair, he hasn't believed in any of those things for some time. In the last year, the problem has been his quicksilver moods, the cycles of mania and wild depression, the sudden bursts of weeping. In those very bad months last winter,I would check our message thread on Instagram to see how many minutes it had been since he had last logged in. If he was still checking Instagram, I reasoned, then he was still alive. The doctors have increased his medication since those hospital visits, and he adheres to a routine of sufficient sleep, regular exercise and therapy. He's stable, he says. Mykaela Saunders: My name's Mykaela Saunders, and this is an excerpt from my short story Long Road, Becoming. Your alarm goes off, and before the old you can hit snooze the new you has sat up and hit the stop button hard to chase any soft thoughts away. If you sleep in, if you don't go for a run now, you'll set yourself back and you won't be any good all day. Do this first good thing now and the rest will be easy. Baby steps can run a marathon. You flick the lamp on, lace your running shoes up and make your single bed, tucking everything in tight. Soft beds breed soft men. The bed's out from the wall—must have been those dreams making you toss and turn again. You knee the bed flush into the corner and sniff your pillow. You strip the sweaty cover off and chuck it in the laundry on your way out. The streetlights pop off as you jog down the street. Ahead of you, a thin slice of horizon brightens, and the black sky around it silvers, bruises, then bursts into orange flames. Closer to town, you pass the big flash houses emerging in the dawning light. You wonder for the fifteenth time what nice things they've got locked up inside. And for the fifteenth time you punch the thought down, leaving it for dead on the of the road. This is easier to do each time. You pick up the pace, light-footed. Nobody's at the park except for a few fishermen on the jetty. You do your circuit, focusing on your arms today: push-ups, pull-ups, burpees. Your muscles are growing powerful and hard; soon you'll be able to lift your own weight. When you're finished your heart is pelting and every pulse point vibrates, and you feel so good that no bad thoughts can get anywhere near you. This is the time you feel safest outside, so you sit and enjoy it while it lasts. The river's skin glimmers in the early sun. The shedding bark on the eucalypts reveals satin-smooth wood glowing opal in the light. One of the fishermen catches a bream. He scales it quickly, divesting it of its armour. Hopefully they're still biting later when you comeback down with Dad. You'd like to stay here for longer but Terry's coming at nine. You run back home with tunnel vision, ignoring the flash houses, burgeoning light brightening behind you, chasing the shadow shortening in front of you. As you approach your house, a bit of the old shame claws around inside you. The dirty paint is peeling, long flakes clinging to the cheap wood. But, look, at least the place is tidy these days without all the shit in the yard for everyone to see.Everything's packed up under the house now being eaten by mould and mice. Maybe you can see if someone's got some spare paint lying around for you to spruce it up a bit for the old man. He'd like that. When you feel stronger you should put the feelers out.You know from last time that things can go wrong if you start getting big ideas too soon. Wait and see how you go for a few more weeks. Inside the house the mustiness hits you in the face. It's an old person smell, which doesn't make any sense because your dad is only forty-four. But, then again, that's nearly old age fora blackfella. Or maybe it isn't anything to do with age—maybe it's the closeness to death, the mustiness of dying. Might be the smell of cancer eating through your old man's lungs and excreting the waste, or maybe it's the residue from radiation burning through the cancer. You go check on him. He's still asleep, wheezing in and panting out. He looks so different. So fragile. You open up some windows to clear his burnt-out breath atomising through the house. Under the hot shower you scrub your fingers through your scalp and run sudsy hands over ink-stained skin. There's no cohesion to your canvas as none of this work was planned or designed. The whole thing was ad hoc—expanded on visit by visit, stint by stint, changed in small increments to what it is now. Most of them are blackwork—amateur renderings of hard-arse imagery—except for the oldest one, which is just shy of twelve years old: a bright-red heart tattooed over your chest withRIP MUM inked inside. The heart's black outline has grown fuzzy. Ink bleeds across the lines. You should ring your sister and see if she'll bring the kids up soon. You'd like to see them more, but you're not allowed over at her house these days. You know she does love you, but that didn't stop you hocking her shit the last time you were out. You missed them all inside—missed her warm hand on your shoulder, supportive, as the jarjums gurgled away in your lap, or played with your hair and traced your tatts, crawling all over you as though you were a statue. Well, you are in a way. You gotta be. Gotta be hard and still, otherwise everyone will think you're up to no good. You wipe the steam off the mirror and check yourself out from every angle. Not bad at all. You don't look like a walking skeleton anymore but you're still as hard as you were inside. Best to stay this way so as not to become soft. You've got a good day ahead of you today. You like to have your days planned out. If you control the input, you can predict the output. Makes it easier to stay on track. Jack Vening: Hi, my name is Jack Vening and this is an excerpt from my story After the Stampede. I'm alone watching cartoons when the animals come down from the mountain. There must be hundreds of them. A stampede. They churn up our flower beds and shit over the traffic islands. They void the warranty on our tyres. They break the tiny penises off the pissing cherub statuettes in our gardens. Goats stick their long tongues through the letter slots in our front doors and frighten the children inside. Chimps do unspeakable things to one another outside the corner store, all of which is captured on security camera. They seem to want to take everything we have. It is Saturday. Always disappointing when trouble arrives on a Saturday, a day reserved for selfish virtues, and it being early everyone is standing at their windows, dumbfounded and afraid. Waterbirds break against our roofs like hail. My parents have taken my little brother Kenneth to his specialist and will be gone for hours. I'm forbidden to leave the house unless in their presence. I never feel more sleepy, I have learned, than in the first few minutes of an emergency.As a little boy, I stood before the burning orchestra building, the heat like a hand closing around my face. Some horses kick my side gate off its hinge and get into the backyard to drink from my brother's wading pool. The water in the pool hasn't been changed in about two months, so I can't say if drinking it will be good for them. I take some photos through the flyscreen in case I need proof to show my parents. They don't often believe the thingsI say, even my most realistic stories, nor do they defend me when the folks from the neighbourhood take a swipe or treat me like a thing washed up in a storm. They are popular themselves. All summer they make love loudly with the windows open. They call each other disgusting names. The whole street listens to the ritual. Kenneth, too, is considered a gift despite his conditions.His body resembles a jigsaw puzzle. He is sweet-eyed and warming to speak to. Visitors beam as they watch him quietly read Bible stories to himself. Due to his illnesses—his laughable immune system, his bones which grew as if in conflict with one another—my parents allow him the pleasure of scattering his toys around the yard and leaving them thereto decompose over many thousands of years. I'm not alone in here, I call to the horses. Do you hear me? I have powerful friends and tools at my disposal. I have nothing to interest the likes of you. You can just do your business and leave, thank you. The morning is bright. I am confident the horses can't see me through the flyscreen. All the same, one of them raises its head and charges right through the nice new patio door. Outside, folks are counting the dead. They gather at the fountain, which is rank and murky with the bodies of rodents. Everyone looks wounded and sorry for themselves. A heavy man with a head gash spits on the ground as I ride past on my bike, a bloody tooth dribbling slowly down his chin. Most of what's left has been trampled—the corpse of a wolf, some woodland things. A few household pets evidently inspired by the wild violence of the stampede. A dog wearing one of those anxiety vests. Something that seems to be a mule or skinny horse and about half a dozen long-legged, mud-coloured wading birds that couldn't keep up. You'd think they'd all been run over by a tank. The street stinks like a nest. A group has formed around my neighbour Jennifer, surveying the dismal scene. Her husband Lloyd is there with their baby Margaret. Are you okay? Jennifer asks me. What are you doing outside? Where are your parents? There were some horses, I say. They kicked the shit out of my patio. I was lucky to get out. A big bobcat got into the kitchen and scratched Lloyd on the hand, says Jennifer. We scared it off with a bar stool. Lloyd's hand is hastily triaged with a towel. There doesn't seem to be any blood, and he can hold Margaret just fine.They're a fine young family. Many think they're wise because they don't own a television. When they first told me Margaret's name, I thought they were making a joke. This is it, Lloyd says gravely. This is our reckoning. We must think carefully about what we do next. Are you sure it was a bobcat? I ask. What did it look like? You don't think I'd know what a bobcat looks like? When it's right in my face, trying to kill me? You're dumber than I thought possible. I gesture for Lloyd to pass me Margaret, but he moves her further away. Where are your parents? Jennifer asks again. There are sirens somewhere off in the direction where the animals ran. Everywhere we step there are pieces of tile or splintered letterbox posts. Neighbours collect the larger debris and fortify the soft points in their hedgerows. They start fires to burn the dead animals. A team of children push together on the belly of a camel until its eyes bulge out. If not for the violence, you could mistake it for a street party. I'm on my way to meet them now, I say, wheeling my bike around. They're enjoying lunch nearby. You're going out there? I am, I have some chores to do.Nobody tells me that it's too dangerous for a child; nobody thinks of stopping me, though Jennifer does look concerned. Once, I called their home and left a message—Leave him, I said. Leave Lloyd. There's so much we both have yet to experience. Bust me out of here; it's time to start our journey—but as far as I know she never listened to it. Take it easy when you see Kenneth, she says. This might be too much for his little body. I leave the folks to comfort their families. The younger, unsupervised kids chase after me, holding the bones of something small above their heads. Everyone I pass is hugging or whispering or weeping, talking with their heads close together, looking at the dirt or at the clouds like they're waiting for rain. They stare into each other's eyes, doing the things strangers do when they're alone, things I'm usually forbidden from seeing. Maame Blue: My name is Maame Blue, and this is an excerpt from my short story Howl. You're waiting again. This time under a blue-tinted light, plants hanging about your head from the ceiling, the walls. You're inside and outside at the same time, somehow.The decor is rainforest cafe meets mimosa brunch, withConverse trainers and vaping allowed. Almost required. You look around at the other patrons, all relaxed with a soft buzz from summer beers, a contrast to you anxiously nursing an orange juice, trying not to stand out. Fat chance. Black girl, curvy, sporting a short afro that prompted an Aussie friend from work to label you Afrocentric.You've been called vibrant before, but tonight you feel invisible, lost in this woolshed bar conversion dropped in the middle of an open parking lot in Brunswick. You think about your arrival, how you rushed out the house frantically and skipped past Anstey station in a sweat, the street art along the train tracks turning into the blur of a rainbow in your haste. You were worried. I can't be late. Still, you wanted to have a moment to take it all in—this new life, the frankness of Melbourne. You pushed down how much you missed the London accent, the muddy green of Hyde Park, the chewing gum-stained streets of CamdenTown, street food and punks and yummy mummies and bad gyals. What were you really without all those things? A visitor, belonging nowhere and looking to reinvent yourself, like everyone else. You sip through your straw and look back at the bartender. Bearded in a Hawaiian shirt. They're always bearded, with soft eyes and soft accents, trying to guess your order before you've said it. Like how he knew you wanted something with zest, reached for it before you had finished speaking. You weren't looking for the hard stuff tonight.Perhaps through the layers of makeup and a dewy glow of sweat he could see you were hungover. Or maybe he just saw the words first date taking shape in your mouth, your anxiety and bubble of excitement the only true markers. You were grateful for it, for the drink and the time to catch your breath. You let in relief when you entered the bar and saw that your date hadn't arrived yet. Others were there, though—silhouettes just like his. Tall bodies with a slight heft, carrying themselves like surfboards.Something in them spoke to being outside on the weekend, enjoying the fresh air before the rapid deterioration of everything natural was complete. They climbed mountains, kayaked down rivers, hiked through forests. You often wondered what feats you could achieve if you only stepped out further than the day before. You were too used to being trapped in comfort and routine back home, until you came here. Your first act of daring was getting on that plane, dreaming about being surrounded by trees. There's a kindness to communing with nature, letting its peaceful warmth be the thing you tried to absorb. But once you arrived, you grasped desperately for the familiar again, sinking into the slow simmer of it. Now you think about the heat of your date. A friend of a friend. You had discarded the introduction apps months ago; the last time was a precursor to nothing.When you met the one black guy you had so far found online, he was only a familiar face on a stranger. He carried your shopping home after one coffee and you fucked him on the sofa where your flatmate had strummed his way through‘Yellow Submarine' the night before, the twang of the guitar keeping you awake as you lay in bed in the next room. Afterwards the man didn't want to stay, and you didn't want to be friends. It left you with a meaningless gape. You sauntered down to Sydney Road and bought a Lebanese pizza and too much baklava and ate your weekend away. What was it about being both invisible and under a spotlight at the same time? You had never wanted to hide your black skin until you came here. Where boys, the whiter ones, wanted to prove how open-minded they were by engaging you. Blond-haired bachelors pumping closed fists against their chests in a crowded bar, two times, as a greeting just for you. Brunette-moustachioed whiskey lovers sending explicit messages on Tinder that reference your dark exotic hue as reason and rhyme for seduction purposes. And the redhead sending up-to-the-minute texts, until you bumped into him with his mother on Flinders Street and watched him turn her around so she wouldn't witness your shared eye contact, or witness you. Jessie Tu: Hi, this is Jessie Tu. I'm going to be reading from the beginning of my short story called Three Iterations of Love. My brother comes to visit on a Saturday night. The weather had been hot all day, lingered around and stayed until late. The man I'm living with has an apartment on the ninth floor of an old hotel in the shady part of the city. I don't mind it. It's convenient, and a whole suburb away from my ex, so there's no possibility of awkward run-ins. I'm grateful for the distance those few kilometres provide. The man I live with is ten years older. I'm fond of him, but I'm also very lonely. Not because I don't have close and loving friends and family but because my needs are excessive. Nothing is ever good enough. I always want more. I thought it would go away someday, this relentless appetite. But no. What never went away was my constant self-judgement, while my brother never failed to impress. I'd spent the afternoon trying to work on my paper, but the light from the window was distracting, and I ended up going out onto the balcony and clipping my toenails instead.The pieces fell onto the floor and I swept them up and tossed them over the balcony. I didn't care that they'd land on the balcony of the apartment below. It was probably full of pieces of human. Dead pieces. I like to imagine that area filled with parts of us that mix in with parts of strangers we've never met. We walk the streets, my brother and me. It's cold. ‘Bitter winter,' I say. He picks dumplings. The dumpling house is a hole in the wall. The tables are street level, the kitchen is downstairs. The man and I have eaten here a handful of times. We were always given a table outside. Tonight, my brother and I sit inside because it is draughty and because all the outside tables are occupied. We are seated opposite each other on a tiny table against the wall.People have to squeeze past us down the aisle to get to the cashier to pay. My brother's phone rings. A cousin from Taipei. Our uncle is trying to reach Mother. What possibly for? we ponder aloud. Is he dying? Writing her into his will? No. He has more important people to give away his money to; he has grandchildren now. I did not know this. We order a plate of greens. Pan-fried dumplings. Steamed dumplings. My brother calls Mother. Mother says she's not been sleeping well.Experiencing dizziness. Sore muscles. Dry throat. ‘Jet-lagged?' my brother offers. ‘Maybe go out for a walk. Getsome fresh air.' The food comes, very late. We eat and talk about euthanasia and cycling and carceral feminism and Jackie Chan.I tell him how funny it is that when you do an internet search of the word ‘euthanasia' the pictures that show up are of one hand holding onto another hand. He tells me about his lover and I tell him about mine. We are both with the wrong people. If we'd not been siblings, I'd have wanted to marry him. But I'd be the kind of wife who would withhold sex when I wanted something, only relenting when I really, truly had to. Otherwise it would be a sexless marriage and he'd have to be okay with that. Because my brother is the most perfect human being who has ever existed. I have no doubt. We are both going to marry the wrong people. Next to us, a young, white couple have just finished their meals. They are waiting on dessert. The woman is blonde, pretty and round. She is wearing a leather jacket with silver studs and black jeans. She and her boyfriend are sitting side by side. She has one arm slung around his neck. His elbows are propped on the edge of the long table, fingers weaved together. She wants love. He wants space. While my brother is texting back to our cousin, I study the boyfriend's face. He is very handsome. A young Tom Cruise.He could be on the cover of GQ. He's also got the deferential gaze of someone who has been used to a life of being wanted.She wants love and he wants space. Every time I look over, the woman has rearranged her arm around his neck—a new contortion of limbs. It looks awkward, contrived. Like they are teenage drama students in a dress rehearsal for a play, faking it real bad. I pity her. Her high-pitched voice and all that effort. Their dessert arrives. Mango sago pudding. The man and woman are sweet and polite, thanking the Asian busboy (he is not a boy but a man, roughly my father's age). He clears their table and places the bowl between them. She gets out her phone and shows her boyfriend something. He gets out his phone. She looks at pictures. ‘Which one is me?' she asks him sweetly. ‘The sexy one,' he says, barely smiling. As though a smile costs him something he needs to keep in reserve. AC: Thanks for listening in! If you're keen to read more after hearing those excellent snippets, you can buy a copy of New Australian Fiction 2020 at our website killyourdarlings.com.au, or at your local independent bookshop, or you can request a copy at your local library.

The conversation is on serious intellectual territory when it suddenly takes an unexpected handbrake turn into shark pickling. (2.00) Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid (4.00) A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing by Jessie Tu (5.00) Cover art by Akiko Chan (8.00) Monkey Grip by Helen Garner (8.10) Head On Film based on the book Loaded by Christos Tsiolkas (8.50) The Trout, Music Film of 1969 with Du Pré, Perlman, Barenboim, Mehta & Zukerman on YouTube (9.10) An Equal Music by Vikram Seth (13.00) The Unexplainable Disappearance of Mars Patel | Podcast | Book (13.50) 99% Invisible Podcast - Ep 318 The Infantorium (16.30) Strong Songs Podcast - "Tightrope" by Janelle Monáe | "No One Knows" by Queens of the Stone Age (18.00) Twins Reacts YouTube Channel | “Joelene” by Dolly Parton | “In The Air Tonight” by Phil Collins (19.20) CrossBread Podcast (21.00) Hamish Blake Instragram (23.50) Exciting Times By Naoise Dolan (26.00) The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, 1991 by Damien Hurst (27.50) The shark hunter, the artist and a nice little earner by Annabel Crabb (28.00) 10yo in stable condition after shark 'grabbed him from boat' on abc.net.au/news (32.00) Fanging It - Man fights off brown snake while speeding in central Queensland by Jessica Johnston Sponsor Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason Produced by Diamantina Media See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

American screenwriter Charlie Kaufman pivots to the novel and Australian Jessie Tu's bold debut.

On Samanta Schweblin's Little Eyes, Daisy Johnson's Sisters and Luke Horton's The Fogging with reviewers Jessie Tu (A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing) and Mark Sutton

"I honestly think that the root of racism is a lack of empathy. If you grew up only watching movies where the central character is a white dude you're only ever going to learn how to empathise with white dudes." Each month we celebrate an Australian debut release of fiction or non-fiction with the Kill Your Darlings First Book Club. For July that debut is Jessie Tu's A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing, out now from Allen & Unwin. Protagonist Jena Lin was once a child violin prodigy and now uses sex to fill the void left by fame. This book explores female desire and the consequences of wanting too much and never getting it. Content warning: this episode contains frank descriptions and discussions of a sexual nature, as well as strong language, so it might not be suitable for all listeners. Our August First Book Club title will be The Fogging by Luke Horton (Scribe Publications). Our theme song is Broke for Free's ‘Something Elated'. Further reading: Read Ellen Cregan's review of A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing in our July Books Roundup. Read Jessie's Shelf Reflection on her reading habits and the writing that inspires her. (more…)

Jessie Tu is a Sydney-based writer, who has featured at the Sydney Writers Festival and published pieces in The Guardian, Meanjin, Sydney Morning Herald and Australian Book Review and Southerly. She was a shortlisted prize winner for the International Peter Porter Prize and runner up in the Deborah Cass Prize. Ahead of the release of her debut novel, A Lonely Girl is A Dangerous Thing, Ben and Olivia sat down with Jessie to discuss the book, the damaging nature of racism, Asian and gender politics, the power of storytelling and more. Books mentioned in this podcast: 'A Lonely Girl is A Dangerous Thing' by Jessie Tu: https://bit.ly/2Yy7MXM Hosts: Olivia Fricot & Ben Hunter Guest: Jessie Tu Producer: Nick Wasiliev

Jessie Tu chats about her new novel A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing; Stuart Harrison, formerly of Triple R's 'The Architects' talks about delivering this year's Open House Melbourne's Heritage Address; Gez gets a birthday tribute!; Hayley Inch takes look at the films of Barbra Streisand; Dean Gibson discuss the importance of his new NITV doco My Family Matters; Gez decides to test Shorty's teaching skills; and mental health expert Steve Ellen, from Triple R's 'Radiotherapy,' gives some helpful advice as we enter our second round of isolation. With presenters Sarah Smith, Daniel Burt, Geraldine Hickey, and Rachel Short. Website:  https://www.rrr.org.au/explore/podcasts/breakfastersFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Breakfasters3RRRFM/Twitter:     https://twitter.com/breakfastersInstagram:  https://www.instagram.com/breakfasters/?hl=en

A reckoning is taking place in Australia's legal profession. The women in the industry say it's a boy's club and always has been, despite more than 60 per cent of law graduates today being female. This gender based discrimination and hostile work environment is a leading reason why women step away from the legal profession. So what is going on and what can be done to fix it? Today's guests are Kate Eastman, Senior Counsel, Employment and human rights barrister and Jessie Tu, who was formerly in the legal profession.   In today's news headlines: Victorians facing jail, $11,000 for NSW visit as lockdowns return Guy Sebastian's former manager arrested for allegedly defrauding the singer of $1.15m Dyson Heydon no longer a Barrister as police launch probe ATO website crashes as Aussies rush to withdraw second $10,000 from super   In today's Briefing we ask: How women are treated in the legal profession? Who has known about this behaviour? Why did it take this long for a female Chief Justice to instigate an inquiry in to what went actually went on at the highest court in the land? See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.