Max Olijnyk

Posts tagged: short stories

The green man

Walking up the hill from the river, I noticed a man standing off to the side of the carpark taking photos through a flower pot.

‘Hi,’ I said, and he waved back. He was dressed head to toe in olive green, with a black Midas cap.

Fred walked up to a big tree with a…

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Camping with Ken on Vice

Some Stories pre-order

I wrote some stories and put them together with some others that I already wrote, and realised I had enough for a (little) book. The cover I came up with was sort of funny, but in the end I asked Ed if he could do it. Not only did he come up with a great…

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Acclaim magazine #35

The new issue of Acclaim magazine looks really nice. I have a story in there about a poet who tried to sell me a bike.

Bright Colours

‘How are you today,’ a little woman asked as I walked in the door, but without the question mark so it wasn’t a question. I told her I was good and that it was a nice day outside.

‘It’s nice out there alright,’ she said, holding up a jumper and examining it, squinting. She…

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Photos from Sydney and photos in general

Like a lot of people, I’m obsessed with photography. I love taking photos and I love thinking about them. Though I’ve tried to approach it more as an art practice and think of images as part of series, I don’t think my brain is structured that way – I just take photos of what I…

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This is a zine I made with a short story and accompanying photos. It’s about taking Fred and Tess for a walk, and looking for a coffee, and the repetition of life, and finding comfort in that, and … busting for the toilet.

Acting like an adult

I wrote this story not long before Fred was born and I was freaking out about becoming a father and a grown up and all that stuff. It was published by Vice.

Fifty Fifty

This Classic Max is about my neighbour Giuseppe and his dog Gracie. I changed their names to Roberto and Nina to protect their identities.

A moment of wonder

This Classic Max is about the time I lost my phone and then found it again. It doesn’t sound interesting, or funny, but I think it sort of manages to be both.


Shannon’s hill

The phone booth shone like a beacon from the top of the hill, illuminating the street in a fluorescent glow. We always stopped to check it for coins on our way to the shops. Then we rolled back, salt and vinegars and one point two five litre cokes in hand, the lines in the…

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The longest and the loudest


I wrote this story about my friend Brett, who is the funniest person I have ever met. It was published by Vice as the first instalment of my Classic Max column.