Not (quite) stalking my new mate David.

Jabba in the front – Williamson in the back. Practically Neighbours! BECAUSE WE ARE…
Ok, so it has come to my attention that my neighbour up here at Jabba the Hut is a very, very, very famous Australian Playwright. I don’t want to divulge his name because that would be just a bit stalkery, but if you said David Williamson, you would not be far off the money.
Because he is my neighbour, I shall refer to him from now on as David.

David has written some of the best loved screen plays and plays of our time including The Year of Living Dangerously, Don’s Party, Phar Lap, Balibo and Gallipoli, just to name a few.

And the man lives next door to me. I told my sister that David and I should put in an application to council to rename our street LITERARY LANE and she laughed, and pointed at me, and laughed some more. Then she repeated my story to a group of people later in the day and they all did the same.

Assholes. You need to think big, right?

So he lives next to me and dear lord, I feel sorry for him. The kids are up at a sparrows fart, playing handball right outside his bedroom window and fighting like banshees, and he has not stuck his head out and yelled once. Not like me, I am forever sticking my head out the window and yelling at them.

Woogs are in town and the silence is shattered.


I have been spending some time dreaming up ways to meet him. There is the old tried and true cup of sugar scenario, or someone has suggested baking something, but I want him to actually like me. I have every intention of sharing a bottle of plonk in this hot-as-fuck sunroom at the back of Jabba and talk writing.

You see, I would show him the novel I am working on and he will be super impressed and tell me that I am indeed an undiscovered talent.

“Thank you David…” I would say before offering him another CC which he will decline because he is quite tall, fit and healthy looking.

I will eat the remainder of the CC’s while he shares stories with me of how he got his start in writing, the adventures that he has been on and the joys he gets from wordsmithing.

I nod along and ask him what he thinks about Mummy Bloggers. He will throw his hands up in the air with complete joy and declare that they are the soul of all things associated with literary brilliance and even, as a group if they are a little bit bonkers, they do important work.

So apart from  “accidentally” walking out in front of his car as he pulls out of the driveway, what is a fool-proof way to make a good impression on my favourite new neighbour?