Tales on Rails, baby

I’m about to get on a fucking plane to Europe. I’m extremely fortunate to have been selected for the Tales on Rails residency with Rail Europe. Essentially for the next 10 days I’ll be riding trains through Germany and Switzerland and writing some stuff and doing some research for my novel, but also seeing amazing shit and getting inspired and having adventures. I think this is amazing, because this shit is like fuel for writers, but so many residencies and things focus on coming out with something tangible, and forgetting that we can’t just write all the time: we need to have shit to write about. I forget that too sometimes, honestly.

Much like with my last trip, i’m going to be doing some blogging on here, but honestly i’ll be focusing more on writing and stuff on Instagram, so make sure to follow me over there if:

  1. you want to
  2. you have Instagram
  3. you don’t mind the fact that i’m going through a shameless post-heartbreak selfie stage
  4. you’re ok with pics of me on trains, bc it’s gonna be some hectic content

Anyway, I’m SUPER EXCITED and can’t wait to share all the crap i’m doing.

VERY, VERY, VERY excited to announce that I've been chosen for the @raileurope 'Tales on Rails' writers residency, meaning that next month i'll be writing on beautiful trains through Germany and Switzerland. I'm going to be researching my novel 'Million Dollar Dog', which is loosely based off the life of my very distant ancestor Francesco Repacholi, who tried to walk across the alps as a kid, failed horribly and was rescued by a St. Bernard. Choo-chooing up through the alps will obviously be incredibly beneficial when it comes to using describing words. I am extremely excited. If you're keen, follow along on the #talesonrail2017 hashtag, I'll be posting photos and videos and doing some blogging and micro-nonfictions along the way 🚞🚂😀

A post shared by Patrick Lenton (@patrick_lenton) on



HELLO INTERNET BOY #10: minimum level 

There are a lot of daunting prospects about being in a new city, and navigating the public transport is one of them. I don’t mind admitting that a lot of things about travelling give me anxiety, because I don’t really mind admitting most things, I’m an admitter. I feel like the things you can’t admit are the things that have power over you. I’ve become gradually more and more scared of travelling alone, as more and more time ticked past without me doing it. I always had a big plan to finish university and go back packing around Europe for six months, and even though I had the money all saved up for my ultra-cheap gadabout, it never happened because that money got spent on stupid life things like losing my job at Target, and stupid Patrick things, like producing a fringe play (badly).

I think because I am so incredibly bad at simple maths, I hold no faith in my ability to understand supposedly user-friendly systems, like public transport. Whenever anyone says ‘oh it’s simple, you’ll  get it’ I immediately think ‘you don’t know how bad I am at getting things’. So it was with the bravery of a man walking into a spider-pit that I caught my first train in Manhattan yesterday. It’s still cold and raining and I decided that spending the day at the Met was a good idea. 

The Met is this labyrinth of amazing things. I spent hours and hours wandering through history and art and just weird stuff. I got so enjoyably lost trying to find a bathroom. I found a really weird cafeteria and ate a banana. I tried to approach things systematically, working through Ancient Greece linearly, but after a while I just started taking side rooms, and from an exhibition of Chinese dresses, I’d walk into a room of old guns, and then a fully reconstructed Ancient Egyptian Temple. I could have bought a map I suppose, but sometimes it’s nice to not be organised.

I did a lot of research, I bought a thousand subway apps, and then, perhaps anticlimactically, I successful caught the subway. Four times in total, with a lot of confusing platforms and weird names, but it happened, and I am quietly chuffed. I have very modest fears and doubts, and I like destroying them systematically. In the words of Skyscraper Stan, ‘I’m gonna take this fucking city, just you watch me!’ and by ‘take’ I mean ‘navigate it at a minimally acceptable level’.

This post is generously supported by the Thiel Grant for Online Writing, and is included in a 50 part series called ‘HELLO INTERNET BOY’ ranging from March 2015 – March 2016.


 I kept waiting for the moment when I got overwhelmed. I’ve had it on planes when I look out the window and feel small and far away, and I’ve had it at the beginning of important things, like starting university. I sat in the plane for hours and hours waiting to feel like it was all a mistake, but really I just watched movie after movie and felt tired. I was already stupidly tired before I started flying, from anxiety insomnia the night before, and a next-door house party before that.

I thought it might happen at LAX where I transferred. By this point i’d been awake for days, and being herded around through endless lines of customs and checkpoints and confusing transfer desks and hidden baggage claims seemed a recipe for nervous breakdown, a lab test to determine mental fortitude. At one bewildering fork in the line, I asked a guy I recognised from the plane named Sam if he was transferring to NY. We wandered around the maze together and helped each other find things, which was comforting. At one point he said ‘this whole place is like a rat maze. At Sydney we’re treated like cattle, but here, it’s rats’. He also felt the need to tell me that he reckoned the guy he was sitting next to was probably gay.

On the flight from LA to NY, I finally became so exhausted that I started fitfully napping, my head bouncing up when it fell forward. When we got to NY, I got my bag, said goodbye to Sam and then went outside and immediately got hustled by someone with a private cab. This had happened to me in Vietnam, and the same instincts, the desire to just let someone take me somewhere because I am so goddamn tired almost got me again. In the line for the cab, two of my sister’s friends recognised me and yelled ‘are you Patrick?’

It finally hit when I got to my AirBnB and my host emailed to say that he was stuck at work for an hour. It was cold and raining slightly and everything looked like old factories. I realise now that people live in hip lofts in those old factories, but it felt like I was abandoned in an industrial zone from the unspecified past. I felt overwhelmed because I was alone, and because I was tired and because I didn’t know where anything was or how it worked. 

I walked around the corner into a bar and I sat at the bar like I knew was a thing in America and asked what kind of beer the bartender recommended.

‘What do you mean, have you never had a beer before?’ he sneered.

‘OK, how about what beer do you recommend for an Australian who wants to try an American beer and has been on a 28 hour flight and feels awful?’

He recommended an IPA, and when he gave my change back, I suddenly remembered I had to give him a tip. The guy sitting next to me said ‘just give me a dollar’ and I realised he had an Aussie accent, and then I sat there and drank beer and talked to him and his sister and her boyfriend for a while and the panic ebbed away. Probably because it seems like there are Australian’s everywhere so I’m really not that alone, but more importantly because I’m pretty used to dealing with unfriendly hipster bartenders. 

This post is generously supported by the Thiel Grant for Online Writing, and is included in a 50 part series called ‘HELLO INTERNET BOY’ ranging from March 2015 – March 2016.

I won the Thiel Grant for Online Writing!

Well, in stupidly exciting news I’m overwhelmed to announce that I’ve won the Thiel Grant for Online Writing! I’m very thankful and grateful to Mr Thiel and the judges who chose my proposal. And congratulations to all the amazing people also shortlisted.

star-trek-for-car-partyAs some of you may know, this will allow me to go forward with a project I’ve been working on for a LONG time. I’ll be tracking down and visiting people I played an online roleplaying game with when I was a teenager/early twenties jerkhole, and finding out what happens when internet friends become IRL friends. Magic, I assume. I’ll be writing a series of linked micro-nonfics for my blog during the experience and sharing them all over the goddamn place.

The grant will allow me to actually travel overseas and visit these people, something I would not be able to afford on my own. The next step for me will be getting a schedule in order, but I’ve already got a bunch of plans in place, including a roadtrip in June in the US with two of my roleplayer chums who I will be meeting for the first time, which is gonna be amazing.

I’m excited to explore the idea of truth and trust and online versus IRL personas, but also how funny it is when people meet? I love the idea that I know these people more commonly by the name of the orc politician that they roleplay than their actual name. I love the fact that they know me as a drunk elven lord named Mesildur, as well as Patrick the drunk jerk. I love that pretending as hard as we can to be elves is what will bring us together.

If you want to follow along with this project while I do it, I’ll be posting them on this blog and they’ll all be nice and tagged, and you can follow The Spontaneity Review on Facebook too.

I am very, very, very excited about all this! Big happy dance.