Meaghan Wilson Anastasios

Screenwriter and bestselling author of 'The Honourable Thief', 'The Emerald Tablet', and 'The Water Diviner'.

A review that starts like that? Daggers to the heart.

Why? Well, imagine you’re a restaurant specializing in satay and a review comes out that starts with the line: “I don’t usually eat peanuts… because I’m likely to go into anaphylactic shock.” Or you’re a producer on Survivor and a critic announces they’ve: “never been into reality TV. Last one I watched was ‘Sylvania Waters.” (Yes, Gen X. That was a thing. Before you were born. Google it.)

But my concerns were misplaced. The review of The Emerald Tablet on ANZ LitLovers is an absolute corker. Apparently, my book is “a thriller for a thinking person”, featuring a “complex character in Ben”, a “…well-crafted plot”, and is “…infinitely better than anything by Dan Brown.”

I’ll take that. Thank you, Lisa Hill.


Have you ever taken a moment to wonder what you’d tell yourself if you could wind back time a bit?
I was lucky enough to have the brilliant Monique Mulligan ask me to do just that – to write a letter to my unpublished self. It was more challenging, and more rewarding, than I thought it might be when I accepted her invitation.
If you’d like to read the outcome, you can find it here.
Enjoy… if a dive into my subconscious can regarded as an enjoyable way to spend some time. Don’t forget your scuba gear!

Brooklyn review pic

Writing is such a solitary pursuit. That’s why reviews like this one mean so much. To hear Brooklyn Tayla ‘s enthusiasm for my stories, and love for my characters, is so danged gratifying. She really, truly gets it. And it touched her. Which makes the whole journey worthwhile.

Thank you.


Look, I don’t mind admitting that I was a bit scared to interview Meaghan Wilson Anastasios because she is so incredibly clever, but oh my, we had the best chat!

Listen in here:

I do find the thought of me being scary strangely appealing, particularly when I’m attempting to strong-arm the 6’3” son into putting the milk back in the fridge when he’s finished with it 🤬.

But my chat with the brilliant Allison Tait from The Australian Writers’ Centre was anything but scary. It ended up being an extended literary therapy session, with her coaxing out of me the rationale and process behind my writing. It’s always hugely rewarding speaking with people who really know their stuff. And Allison is one of the best. If you’re interested is listening in, the podcast can be accessed in the link.

If you’re me, it’s my trusty notepad.

Yes, I do resort to Siri note-taking when I’m driving and have a brainwave I want to record before it dissolves from my often distracted consciousness. Flashes of inspiration disappear so quickly between mundane, day-to-day concerns like making sure the backyard chicken is fed and the fridge contains at least one bottle of milk that resembles something other than sour yoghurt.

But Siri, God love her, has her limitations, thanks to the whole voice-to-text thing. From one of my recent attempts: ‘Mother over daughters dress, pinching at waste as she is eating hors d’oeuvres.’

I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what that was meant to mean. My latest book contains no mention of mothers or dresses, with not an hors d’oeuvres to be seen.

Pen to paper is so much more reliable. What do you think? Do I need to give up my occasionally old fashioned ways? I don’t go so far as writing my manuscript longhand. That’s what the laptop’s for. But for notes and ideas on the go, I just can’t ignore pen and paper.

What do you make of this? A couple of Christmases ago, I’d just packed the manuscript for The Honourable Thief off to @macmillanaus. The day for the giving of gifts arrived, and my husband gave me this box. Not just any box, though. Applied to the front was a picture of Achilles’ shield. And inside was something so beautiful and poignant, it made me weep. You see, Andrew had tracked down an Ancient Greek coin and had it set as a pendant. But it wasn’t just any coin. In The Honourable Thief, Benedict Hitchens is given a pendant by his wife, Karina. The coin in she used was from Kremaste, and was minted in the 4th century BC. As the story progresses, the pendant becomes deeply significant to Benedict. And it was this that Andrew replicated for me. The exact, same coin. Yes, he is the best husband in the world. And, no, you can’t have him. 😁😊❤️

God, I love this. Laying down the bones of my next novel. Next step being the shuffling around of Post-It notes to work out pacing, and plot reveals. The. Best. Fun. And for those of you who’ve asked whether I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants writer, or a nail-the-story-down-before-starting type of writer… well, this probably answers your question.