Non-fiction AS I DRIVE into the small Victorian riverside town of Rochester, a banner tied to a metal fence greets me on the main road. The banner is white and the text is written in heavy black lettering, like a...

GR OnlineTHURSDAY, 26 JANUARY 2017 is a grey, overcast day in Sydney. Along the harbour front thousands of people gather, stretching out picnic blankets and chairs and settling in for the afternoon. Children pile their shoes up at the entrance...

EssayWinner, 2016 Walkley Young Journalist of the Year Awards – Student Journalist of the Year categoryTHERE WERE MANY things I didn’t understand. I grew up in Melbourne with my Anglo mother and didn’t have much exposure to the Chinese–Malaysian...

ReportageDRIVING INTO MORWELL, on the long highway from Melbourne, the first things you see are the smokestacks of the Yallourn Power Station. On a grey overcast morning the thick smoke coming out mingles in the air with the clouds...

FictionWe pass the food market, and the dining hall, where each morning I would take my grandmother to eat yong tofu, hot noodle soup with fishballs and stuffed tofu. She said she always wanted to eat, but in reality she wanted to show me off to her old friends.