Fiona Wright

Fiona Wright

is a doctoral candidate with the University of Western Sydney Writing & Society Research Centre. Her poetry collection Knuckled (2011) won the Dame Mary Gilmore Award for a first collection in 2012.


About Fiona Wright

Fiona Wright is a writer from Sydney. Her collection of essays Small Acts of Disappearance was published by Giramondo in 2015, and has been shortlisted for the 2016 Stella Prize and the NSW Premier’s Douglas Stewart Prize for non-fiction, and long-listed for the Kibble Award for Australian Women’s Life Writing. Her poetry collection Knuckled (Giramondo) won the Dame Mary Gilmore Award in 2012.

Fiona has recently completed a PhD at Western Sydney University’s Writing and Society Research Centre, examining the suburban poetry of Gwen Harwood and Dorothy Porter.

Fiona’s criticism and reviews have appeared in The Australian, Australian Book Review, Cordite Poetry Review, The Lifted Brow, Sydney Morning Herald and The Sydney Review of Books. Her poetry and essays are published in Antipodes, HEAT, Island, Going Down Swinging, Overland, Meanjin, Seizure and in publications in the USA, Canada, Hong Kong, Singapore, Sri Lanka and Germany.


Articles about Fiona Wright

Small Acts of Disappearance by Fiona Wright Cover

The Fleshy Side of the Mind

‘Far from imagining hunger as an art of discarnation, Wright seeks to give it body, simultaneously remarking on the physicality, the sensuality of the experience, and objectifying it as something outside of herself, material enough to protect her from the world.’ Alys Moody on Fiona Wright’s Small Acts of Disappearance.

Everyday Intimacies: An interview with Fiona Wright

‘It’s that wonderful mediating effect of writing, its ability to hold things clear that I’ve always been drawn to, and which is very similar to the way in which hunger works.’ Rachel Morley interviews poet, critic, editor and essayist Fiona Wright for the SRB.

Articles by Fiona Wright

Back to Cronulla

‘Cronulla had changed, and the image of it I still carried was one that had set in amber, and had become as kitsch and heavy as a paperweight – not to mention as obsolete.’

Image credit: Rowen Atkinson, some rights reserved (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/). This image has been cropped.
Foreign Soil by Maxine Beneba

Listen

Speaking and writing, in Foreign Soil, are never simple acts. Both are, of course, embedded within the body, and as such are deeply personal and even instinctual; but they are, at the same time, inextricably implicated in wider social circuits of violence, of bodies politic, of privilege and power.

For love and hunger

In the year that I first became ill, I recognised the physicality of Teresa’s hunger, and I carried it with me for years, although the rest of For Love Alone did not stir me – I was nineteen, and probably too callow, too cold and self-obsessed to fully understand it. But in the last two years, I started hearing so many writers talk again about Christina Stead.