I speak well crook. I speak better, when better. And I get bitter when my usually unstoppable health chucks it during an author tour. This happened to me the other week in Geelong, when the State Library of Victoria had Chris Beck and me as their travelling wits.

Chris Beck is my favourite photojournalist and straight-seeming journalist, so it was a groove for him to contradict me in public libraries, play the part of devil’s advocate and generally be fun to get on the road with. We spoke at four libraries, to mostly senior-citizen intellectuals. Unfortunately, the evening beforehand I copped gallstones, and the entire night saw both breath and life elude me utterly. The only temporary relief was to stand beneath scalding-hot showers in our residence until kind old unconsciousness turned up; and sweethearting exhaustion, writing’s sister, felled me.