Close-up of a pair of hands typing on a typewriter.

Sonnet No.1 implies the existence of further sonnets

I haven’t written many sonnets. I mean, they’re often poems about love and I hate everyone. Just kidding. I’ve just traditionally been more of a free verse and blank verse girl, I guess.

But I did pen my first ever sonnet earlier this year, creatively titled “Sonnet No.1”. (Hey, it’s good enough for Shakespeare, it’s good enough for me.)

Front cover of The Other Side of Pain: poetry, art, and photos by members of the poetry club. The cover features a black and white close-up of a woman holding a lit match in front of her face.
The Other Side of Pain: poetry, art, and photos by members of the poetry club.
November 2023 member magazine.

You can find “Sonnet No.1” in the official 2023 Poetry Club member magazine. The theme was healing and the collection is called The Other Side of Pain. It’s available as a free downloadable ebook so go check it out! You might even discover your new favourite poet/artist (probably not me, but I’ll be flattered if it’s me, lol).

Read The Other Side of Pain by the Poetry Club.

I’m planning to release a poetry book at some point… but first I need to sculpt my scraps into a reasonably coherent collection. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Text reads: The burnout bar. Background contains photo of a fuel gauge close to empty.

The burnout bar

Hey blog world. I’m not dead! Just really busy. And sleep deprived (yay for chronic insomnia).

But it’s the WA Day public holiday here in Western Australia, so I carved out some time to pen a few thoughts. And with “state daddy” Mark McGowan announcing his resignation as Premier and Member for Rockingham a week ago due to burnout, it got me thinking about my own breaking point.

It was late on a Sunday afternoon in the summer of 2012. I was in my friend’s car, and he was driving me home from the Scarborough pub that would later loosely inspire the Sherlock Arms in Black and Blue.

But that manuscript was still a while away. On this Sunday, I was just a girl in a car, crying because I had to go to my Toxic Job the next day.

I would continue to alternate between crying, nausea and total numbness every week until I finally quit that job with nothing lined up. I was still at the beginning of my career, but I’d always been quite anxious and cautious – so up until that moment, I never thought I’d be the person who left a job without a backup plan.

I realise many people don’t have the luxury of being able to do that anyway. But I did, I took the chance and I don’t regret it. I was burnt out and dying inside.

It’s been 10 years now but I did actually learn a lot from Toxic Job. Like how not to behave as a professional… Think workplace affairs between managers and direct reports, threats against ex-employees, exploitation of recent graduates less likely to know how to advocate for themselves, and just gross misconduct.

But more to the point, Toxic Job became my bar.

I have high levels of social anxiety and moderate levels of generalised anxiety. I find I have to put up with things I’m uncomfortable with pretty much every day of my life in order to participate in society. That’s just the way it is, and it can be exhausting, but I handle it.

However, Toxic Job is the standard I won’t walk past. If anything ever gets as bad or feels as icky as that, whether it’s in a professional or personal context, I’m checking out.

Writing-wise, things are moving pretty slowly but I’ve got two projects in the works: my second novel and a poetry collection. So that will probably be books 2 and 3 – I don’t know which will be ready first at this stage, but that answer should reveal itself in due course.

Text reads: I want to write a poem. Background contains ink pot and quill.

I want to write a poem

I want to write a poem โ€“
the kind that inspires
the kind that lights a fire in your soul
the kind that speaks every word
of your heartโ€™s desires
the kind youโ€™ll want to quote
so that I wonโ€™t even care that I peaked
with this poem.

But โ€“
I canโ€™t find the words
and I donโ€™t know what needs to be heard
and when I try to write a rhyme
it sounds absurd.

So โ€“
I start to search for the perfect

the perfect pen
the perfect notebook
the perfect desk
the perfect ergonomic chair

the perfect procrastination.

Maybe โ€“
the clothes make the poet
so I search for โ€œpoet outfitโ€ with a flourish
but in my fervent fingering I slip slight right
and hit a p instead of an o.

My thumbs get as far as โ€œpoet putโ€
before the little engine that could
(that does)
predicts my next words.

โ€œpoet put head in ovenโ€

And I think โ€“
Sylvia Plath could find the words
Sylvia Plath needed to be heard
but on this absurd day
she is reduced

to a head
in an oven.

And I wonder โ€“
will anyone remember
me?

ยฉ Lee-Ann Khoh


It’s still National Poetry Month for a few more days so I thought I’d share something I wrote after one of Shelby Leigh’s poetry club workshops. (If you join the poetry club and check out the workshop replays, it’s the April 2023 one with Sierra DeMulder.)

Feel free to let me know what you think of the poem, even if what you think is “This is super wanky.” (But if you can articulate something more constructive than that, I’d appreciate it, lol.)

A hand holds a sparkler.

New Year, same girl on film – a micro-vlog & Paloma Faith

I don’t typically make New Year’s Resolutions because, let’s face it, I know I’m not going to follow through. It’s like all the newbies at the gym in January that you never see again in February. Which is not a criticism — just saying that good intentions do not a good habit make. I know that from experience.

But I did put the call-out on TikTok and Instagram Reels for any takers to publicly pressure me into writing more consistently. ๐Ÿ˜›

Video “Second book blues…” shows Lee-Ann sitting in a car recording a short vlog to camera.

Will it work? I don’t know. I can’t blame anyone else for my slow progress… “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem, it’s me.” (Apologies to Taylor Swift.)

Anyway, from my crappy vertical phone video to something that actually looks great thanks to VocalTech

Back in November, I sang “Just Be” by Paloma Faith and there’s a video of it. I’m not entirely happy with my performance but some of my extended family was asking about it so I thought I’d whack it online anyway. (Besides, I’m never 100% happy with anything I do in relation to the arts, but sometimes you have to let go, right?)

Just Be (Paloma Faith cover) by Lee-Ann
Text reads: November, schmovember. Background contains a lush green garden and a winding path.

November, schmovember…

Another year almost gone and still no hand sanitiser sponsorship. C’mon, how much alcohol does a girl need (to rub on her hands) to get a break around here?!

But in all seriousness… it’s late November. Already.

November always ends up being pretty busy despite my best intentions. I guess it’s been like that since I was a student and most of my final exams would be in November (in Australia, the school year lines up with the calendar year). Now that I’m a professional (ha!) it seems to be the time of year where everyone starts realising they need XYZ before Christmas. And then there’s preparing (physically and mentally) for the end-of-year events that come thick and fast in December.

I actually had the first of my end-of-year gatherings over the weekend just gone, but it was just a small picnic in the park, nice and chill.

I’ve never liked crowds, even pre-pandemic, but I did go see Guns N’ Roses recently (masked up). And I’m glad I did – it was a fun Friday night. I mean, it was freezing… even in my hoodie, raincoat, hat and mask. There was also a sprinkling of November rain, but not during the song of the same name. Bruce Springsteen still holds the record for the longest concert I’ve ever attended (3.5 hours), but GN’R were pretty close.

A lot of us writers also attempt NaNoWriMo in November. I didn’t give it a crack this year but if you did, I hope you’ve made some progress on a manuscript.

For this writer… well, my firstborn novel, Black and Blue, turned one at the beginning of the month. Doesn’t seem that long ago but they grow up so fast, don’t they?

A paperback copy of Black and Blue by Lee-Ann Khoh stands next to a powdered sugar layer cake decorated with flowers and birthday candles.
Book and cake! All the important things.
Image credit: AllAuthor.

And yes, I’m being facetious – I know books are not the same as actual children, calm your farm. ๐Ÿ˜›

But yeah, it’s been a nice year of… not being a liar if I decide to set my Facebook page and Instagram profile categories to “Author”. ๐Ÿ˜„

Book 2 is coming… eventually. A few people have asked me about a sequel, but this one’s a standalone at this point in time.

Other formats of Black and Blue are also on the horizon but I don’t have release dates yet.