Mick McCoy

I have made a habit of changing my mind about things. mcphoenix is the result of one such change of mind. It’s not a nasty habit, I don’t think. In fact, as a younger man, a set myself a rule that I had to change my mind, in the manner I’m talking about here, once every six to seven years.

These are changes of mind that lead to changes of life and I reached my conclusion about a roughly seven-year schedule completely oblivious to the screen play by Billy Wilder about an identically timed itch. (In 1955, The Seven Year Itch brought Marilyn Monroe’s legs to the attention of the world, courtesy of a sidewalk grate which allowed hot air to rise from the subway below and hover mischievously under the innocent Marilyn’s white pleated dress. Movies are enormously important to Driver Ancelotti, the lead character in Fare Game, but more on that elsewhere.)

While I don’t subscribe to Wilder’s itch, I do feel an irresistible call for change in my working life, which has guided me – some might say a touch haphazardly – from academia, to sport, to writing, to health, to an internet start-up and, as of now, back to writing. It was a pair of six-to-seven year cycles ago that Burning Sunday and Cutting Through Skin (see Previously) were published and its high time I returned to writing, a place where I’d like to stay.

Born in 1962, I’m over seven cycles old, married to the infinitely wise and beautiful Jane and the father of two gloriously feisty teenage girls. I live in Melbourne, Australia, surrounded by great places to ride bikes and drink coffee, but a little too far from a beach with a decent swell.

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