Misrule

Is that the worst blog post title ever? Never mind. Last time I blogged, I was all ready to come back and write about Reading Matters and so on, but alas, I found myself side-lined by the Great Post-Reading Matters Melbourne Lurgy, and then my very ancient but most beloved cat got very, very sick (as in renal failure sick) indeed... and so, No Blogging for Me!

The good news is, the cold is almost gone, and the cat (Dearest Bridie) made a remarkable recovery (although for how long it's impossible to know—she's nearly 20 after all), but then all the work I didn't get done while I was sick and Bridie was sick has landed splat bang on my schedule, and so blogging is way down on the agenda...

So, in the meantime, here's a cute photo of my poor old cat being all snuggly and sooky inside my dressing gown:

Sorry, I look a bit mad: I was just relieved to have my hands free and be able to perform both maternal duties (cuddling the cat) and getting some actual work done. (Look, Mum, no hands!)

And in the spirit of actual book-related blogging, I'm going to try and post a couple of book trailers. I am hopeless at this, so wish me luck...

Nit Boy by Tristan Bancks: trailer for books and proposed animated series:

This one is for James Roy's forth-coming novel Anonymity Jones: I'm intrigued!



James's terrific Problem Child will be released in the US soon under a different title—and here's the trailer (I'm on a ROLL I tell you!):



And finally, for now, the trailer for Deborah Abela's junior fantasy novel The Remarkable Secret of Aurelie Bonhoffen.



Got a trailer, Aussie authors? I don't generally use Misrule for promotion, but am happy to link to your books, especially if it helps with national and international coverage of yer books.

Night, now.

May has been a completely full-on month for me, with the Sydney Writer's Festival and the Reading Matters conference in Melbourne. I arrived home from Reading Matters last night with a filthy head cold and a sore throat from hell, and need an early night, so I'll get as much down as I can tonight and might need to come back later... 

My last post was in advance of the Youth Day at Sydney Writers' Festival, where, as you'll have read, I introduced author John Flanagan and chaired two panels. All of the4 sessions went well—introducing an author is no great challenge, it has to be said, but I hadn't met John before and he was very nice. I also had no idea until the session that he was the dad of Penny Flanagan, whose pop music I used to listen to and whose YA novels I enjoyed, and Kitty Flanagan, who once picked on me in the nicest possible way at a comedy gig. (Truly, she was nice and funny, not mean.)

The panels were, however, the main gig, and they both went really well. If anything, I'd actually say the YA Fantasy panel with Garth Nix and Isobelle Carmody slightly pipped the "YA Books that are Too Hard for YA writers", if only because at the latter panel, Mal Peet, MT Anderson and Margo Lanagan and I were all so in agreement with the topic (ie that teenagers need, want and deserve challening, literary novels and anyone who suggests otherwise needs to answer the question why and how teenagers suddenly got stupid in the past 20 years...) that there wasn't perhaps as much... not conflict, exactly, but, I guess, "spirited debate". 

{We did have one question thrown at us in the middle of the "Too Hard YA" panel, which was kind of more or less along the lines of "why shouldn't they just be reading Dickens"—and it was a question, not a smart-arse challenge, and it opened up a bit more discussion. [Curious aside: the fellow who asked the question was obviously interested in YA as he was in all three of my session—and get this. We bumped into each other on Swanston Street on Thursday. He lives in Melbourne and had indeed come to Sydney for the youth lit sessions. Funny thing was, he knew nothing of Reading Matters, it was all pure coincidence. Funny old world. And a smallish one.])

It was only a week ago, but I am having a bit of trouble remembering the detail of some of the discussion, so if anyone who was there reads this, please leave your "highlights" in the comments! I did record the session—both sessions—and will upload it as soon as I clear it with the Festival folk. And maybe I need to listen again and come back with my personal highlights—beyond the enormous pleasure of chatting (in public no less) with people and writers of the calibre of Mal, Tobin and Margo. All wonderful people, all extraordinary writers.

The YA fantasy panel was terrific. Garth and Isobelle are both such easy, natural speakers, and they are both so clear-sighted and thoughtful about their writing process and ideas about fantasy that the discussion flowed beautifully. Isobelle's Obernewtyn fan club were there in force (this session was completely packed out, as expected), which was particularly good when we got to the whole question of the interaction between the writer and reader in the digital age (aka George RR Martin is not your bitch).

Anyway, I will leave this up to people who were there to leave comments (although most of that was done on my Facebook page the night of the panels) and for when you have had a chance to hear the podcasts.

What I forgot to mention last week was that on the Wednesday before these sessions, I MC'd the schools' day for Sydney Writers' Festival at the Joan Sutherland Performing Arts Centre in Penrith. This was the first time the Festival has taken the schools' day so far out west, and I don't imagine it will be the last—it was fully subscribed and the schools (about 14 of them) had a fanastic day. It was just for primary schools, although the Festival also has secondary days (just not at Penrith this year), and I have to say that the lineup and the organisation of the speakers was brilliant (and I can say that because I had nothing to do with it—go Linly Goh, who organises the children's and youth program for SWF).  

First up was Tristan Bancks, creator of Mac Slater, Cool Hunter and the new and fabulous Nit Boy. Tristan has a background in performance and film, and so was very natural on stage with the kids—and they loved his stories as well. Tristan had the kids giving him suggestions for inventions for Mac and Paul for the next Mac Slater book, which was a fantastic way to get them warmed up and engaged (not that they weren't already simply buzzed from being there—plus I did my usual "school rollcall" routine which always gets the blood stirring to kick things off). As I mentioned (I remember now I did mention the Schools' Day), I'd been told Tristan was lovely and he is! All of them are, those pesky children's book folk. Nary a curmudgeon to be seen...

After Tristan, the totally lovely Cathy Cassidy was up. Cathy came out from her home in Scotland for the Festival (and for Reading Matters), and I was so utterly thrilled to meet her. I got a big old 11-year-old girl crush on Cathy's books when I read the first, Dizzy, and was delighted to discover that she's as sweet and wonderful in person as her books. (Which is not to say wimpy—as neither are her books.) Cathy talked about having written stories and drawn all her life, and her history working on those fabulous girls' magazines that were around when she and I were girls. (Although Cathy was a Jackie girl—my magazine of choice was called Pink. Anyone remember it?) Cathy got a fantastic question about, did boys read her books? (the covers don't exactly encourage them, alas), which she fielded well and I picked up on by saying in my "afterword" that if the boys in the audience had friends and families, then they'd like Cathy's books. (We also picked up again on this on the panel I chaired and Cathy was on at Reading Matters, of which, more later.)  

And then—Mr Morris Gleitzman. Let's face it, there are some bone fide rock stars in children's lit, and in this country at least, Morris is certainly up there. But you know what? In all the (too many to remember) years I've seen Morris work with kids, he never takes an easy ride on his reputation and popularity alone. He always is "on" and engaged with and responsive to the kids, and they, in return, to him. So yeah, he was fab, they were fab—fantastic session before lunch and amazingly long lines for book signings (especially for Morris—is RSI the downside of being a rock star?!).

During lunch, I took the opportunity to speak to teachers about the Western Sydney Young People's Literature project, and hope to hear from some of the teachers in time. I'd also taken along to the day Kate, our young trainee at the Blacktown Arts Centre, who helped kid-wrangle the book-sgining lines. Kate told me she had a fantastic day, and it was a good opportunity for her to see a major event like that in action. (Excellent stage managing, by the way and if you're reading this, Angie!)

After lunch, poet and novelist Catherine Bateson was on—a little lower key, shall we say, than Mr Gleitzman, and this is what I mean by the fantastic way that Linly organised the program. It was so incredibly well-balanced, with a range of different kinds of writers (of different kinds of books) and different personalities/personas. I adore Catherine's books—I was reminded today of one of my all-time favourites, the beautiful junior novel Rain May and Captain Daniel, and the fact that is was retitled for the US market with the execrable Stranded in Boringsville. Ouch! (Way to kill the mood, Holiday House!) (Why was I reminded of it, you ask? I had an email from a librarian in the US, via child_lit, asking for books for an 8 year old reader set in Australia. This happens from time to time, and it's always good to remind myself of the best Australian kids' books available.) Anyway, Catherine was great and I hope the kids—and you reading this—all run out immediately and read her newest Magenta McPhee. Great writer about girls' experience, great book, and great session.

And then—ta da! The final session was with husband and wife team Danny Katz (you can read his growed-up stuff here) and Mitch Vane. I swear, these two are like an old vaudeville team from years ago. Totally in sync with each other, sharp and hilarious. Mitch draws, Danny banters, kids roar with laughter. At the end of question time at the end of the session, Danny lept (leaped?) off the stage, took to the floor of the auditorium and raced up the aisle to take a question from one of the kids way up the back. And on the way BACK to the stage, the kids crowded into the aisle to slap his hand—yes, rock-star/Aussie Idol style—as he headed back to the stage. It was a totally hilarious, "up" and perfect way to end what had been a fantastic day for those kids.

God, I should have written this 10 days ago. I'm still totally behind the game—I've got all this Reading Matters stuff to write up. But not tonight. But soon! I'll just say that Reading Matters was a barrel o' monkeys and then some, and I'm so glad I was there and I'll blog it soon. Hoo-roo for now and enjoy these pics from the schools' day at Penrith.

The young readers at the Penrith Schools' Day for Sydney Writers' Festival were very inventive about getting authors' signatures...

 

This young lady (below) was one of the last to leave. Dad was there and gave permission for this photo of his daughter with (l-r) Catherine Bateson, Danny Katz and Mitch Vane to be published. (I rather like the [accidental] composition of this one!)

           

I think most of my readers know this, but tomorrow I am chairing two panels at the Sydney Writers' Festival. First off, I'm introducing John Flanagan, who will almost certainly need no introduction to his hordes of fans, but it's the polite thing to do and I am happy to do it!

At midday, I'm chairing a session I think will be awesome—and not because of me! It's "Don't Tell the Teenagers: Young Adult Books that are 'Too Hard' for Young Adults". The panellists are Mal Peet, MT Anderson and our own Margo Lanagan. I met Mal and Tobin at a CBC dinner the other night (didn't blog it, too tired and busy!)—I actually met Tobin a few years ago in the US—and they are definitely looking forward to getting stuck into this topic. I imagine Margo is as well!

Then at 1.30, two rock stars of Australian fantasy and spec fiction: Garth Nix and Isobelle Carmody on The Secrets of Writing Fantasy for Young Adults. I have a range of questions ready, but I am sure these two old hands will just need the odd prod from me and off they'll go.

What's been fun is re-reading the work of all these great writers in preparation. Should be an awesome, if tiring day. Might see you there! Oh, and if you have any questions you want me to put to any of the authors on the above topics, you've got until about 9am tomorrow morning to leave a comment!

I didn't make it to the dinner this year, which is still on as I write this—tix are a bit pricey and I am saving my pennies for a trip to England. Of which, more later. But thanks to the glories of Twitter, I was kept up to date on the winners by Tim Coronel from Bookseller and Publisher and the good folk at Penguin, who have made a large sweep of the pool by the looks of it.

In the categories that really matter: I am beyond delighted that my dear friends and one-time colleagues Ursula Dubosarsky and Tohby Riddle have won the Patricia Wrightson prize for their marvellous book about language, The Word Spy. And Michelle Cooper has won the Ethel Turner for her delightful, I-Capture-the-Castle-esque A Brief History of Montmaray.

That's all for now: busy busy busy! But excellent news. Sad to have missed the dinner—only the second one I've missed in 15 years.

I can't believe it's been a month since I blogged! I've been pretty flat out: work has kept my head down and my hands glued to the keyboard, report and submission writing, and at home I've been flat out, head down and hands glued to the keyboard, turning my class in writing children's books into an online course. And in between, I've been reading up a storm, in preparation for the Sydney Writers' Festival and the Reading Matters conference in Melbourne.

I'm involved in a few events at the Festival. First of all, I'm MCing the primary schools' School Day at Penrith this coming Wednesday. The writers involved are Morris Gleitzman, Tristan Bancks, Catherine Bateson, Danny Katz & Mitch Vane, as well as Cathy Cassidy from the UK. What a fantastic line-up!

I know all the Aussie authors, of course, some of them personally, but even so I've been reading up on their recent work in preparation for introducing them on Wednesday. Morris, of course, is a bit of a rock star in Australian children's books. 11 years ago, when I worked for the Northern Rivers Writers' Centre, I organised a tour of the northern coast of Morris and Alison Lester, which was a hoot. I'll never forget the hundreds of kids we crammed into a hall in Murwillumbah and their reactions to both Morris and Alison. I imagine this event will be much the same, although back them Morris was reading them the rude bits from Bumface, which might have partly accounted for it! It'll be great to see him in action again. (Curiously, my parents were in church with Morris's parents this morning, at the Leura Uniting Church centenary!)

Tristan Bancks is reasonably new to the scene, but has made quite a splash with the Mac Slater Coolhunter books (US release 2010). Tristan is also an actor, so I imagine "performing" for an auditorium full of kids will be no trouble for him. I've still got to read Tristan's Nit Boy books, but the editor is a close friend and so I have it reliable authority that he is a lovely chap. So looking forward to meeting him!

Catherine Bates has written some of my favourite junior novels about girls of the past ten years. Well, just some of my favourite junior novels, but she writes so beautifully about girls and friendship and family it's worth being specific. Her most recent novel, Magenta McPhee, is up there with the best of them, I am pleased to say. She's also a fine poet and verse novelist. Catherine is also a mate (we're Facebooking each other as I write this) so it will be cool to catch up. (Catherine's from Victoria, so I only see her from time to time.)

Danny Katz and Mitch Vane are the team behind the delightful and funny, but also sharply observed Little Lunch books. I love schoolyard stories, and the Little Lunch books, which each contain three short stories for lower primary school aged children, are spot on in terms of playground politics and dynamics. The stories are fantastic, and so are Mitch Vane's pics.

And finally, Cathy Cassidy. Yay! I read and fell in love with Cathy's first novel, Dizzy, back when I worked at The School Magazine. I desperately wanted to Bookshelf it, but unfortunately some scenes of irresponsible parenting involving dope smoking meant we couldn't. Parameters of what the department would allow—understandable, but I was really disappointed. I thought then, and I think now, that Cathy does a wonderful line in, again, stories about girls and their sometimes fraught friendships and family lives. Romance has also crept into the books as Cathy's rather short but prolific career has taken off, and it's no surprise to me how popular she is. I feel a bit fan-girlish about meeting her, but I'd better get over it as I am also chairing a session with her at Reading Matters: of which, more shortly.

So that's Wednesday. Going to be a HUGE day! All being well, I'll be taking along our arts trainee from work, and she is dead excited about it. Must get her the books to have a look at before then!

Then on Sunday, I am chairing some sessions at the Youth Day at the Festival proper. First off, I'm introducing John Flanagan, but he flies solo and doesn't need a chair, so my involvement there will be brief. But then the two big panels, back to back—no time to breath! (Or get nervous!)

The first panel is at 12 noon and is "Don't Tell the Teenagers: YA books that are 'too hard' for teenagers". The panellists are MT Anderson, Mal Peet and our own Margo Lanagan. Awesome lineup—three of the most powerful, challenging, literary and damn wonderful writers for young adults on the scene today. Don't know what I'm doing there! Actually, I am so looking forward to this one. All three of these writers—and they're not alone—have had their books scrutinised and dismissed as not really for teenagers because, well, teenagers are all stupid and spend all their time txtng and not reading serious literature. Except for the ones that aren't. I won't go on—that's what the panel is for—but I think it's going to be lively and passionate and just plain wonderful. Please come along if you can, and come prepared to join in the conversation. And if you haven't read any of their books—you must, you just must.

Almost straight after that, at 1.30 is "The Secrets of Writing Fantasy for Young Adults" with me chairing and Garth Nix and Isobelle Carmody as the authorities! Two of my favourite people, and writers, and so much more vastly knowledgeable than me on the subject. I've got a stack of questions to keep things going, but I think they'll hardly need much prompting from me! This is part of the Youth Day program, but I suspect the audience will be primarily adults wanting to write in this field. That's OK—we can pitch it at both audiences!

I imagine both of these sessions are going to be pretty popular—the Festival people tells me there's some buzz around the "too hard for teenagers" session, and I just know how popular Isobelle and Garth are, so if you're planning to come along, keep that in mind.

So, lucky me. Really looking forward to these events. I'm going to need lots of early nights curled up with a pile of books this week!

The following week, I'm off to Melbourne for the Reading Matters conference, run biennially by my friends and colleagues at the Centre for Youth Literature at the State Library of Victoria. The conference is booked out, so if you're not coming, alas, you can't, but stick it in your diary for May 2011.

I'm up at 10am on the Friday, chairing a session called "My Girlfriend's Boyfriend". The panellists are, as mentioned, Cathy Cassidy, plus our own Mo Johnson and Chris Wheat. Mo is one of our newest and shiniest writers for young adults: her novel Boofheads is a CBCA Notable Book this year and it's one of the very small handful of recent Australian YA books I can think of that goes authentically into the hearts of young men as they deal with growing up, changing friendships and romantic love. It's a terrific book, and I'm also really enjoying her novel in the Girlfriend Fiction series, Something More.

I hadn't read Chris Wheat's books before preparation for the panel—and that's been my loss. Loose Lips and Screw Loose are as funny as you could wish for, and a bit audacious too. They both feature the same fabulous cast of characters, and are set in and around a (fictional) secondary college in a working class area of Melbourne. I just love these books and I think Chris will bring some really interesting insights to this panel on attraction, romance, love and heartbreak in books for teenagers.  

So, that's what's coming up for me in the next couple of weeks. So many wonderful writers, so many books—so few days left before it all kicks off! Best I go and read some more books...

If you haven't already signed the petition against the removal of restrictions on the parallel importation of books, I urge you to do so. I've blogged about this issue before; if you don't fully understand the implication for Australian writers, novelist and poet Alison Croggon explains it beautifully here. And while you're at it, check out this news report on the fabulous children's writers from Brisbane, who picketed Dymocks, the lead bookseller behind the push to remove the restrictions. Power to the people! (Or as my friend Cassandra would prefer, Beads! Flowers! Freedom! Happiness! which is no way an exhortation to indulge in the herb celebrated in that song...)

I'd really like your comments on this one.

I had an interesting conversation with one of my students tonight. Tonight was Week 4 of the 5 week course, the week we talk about structure and plotting—not my favourite week, but it went really well tonight. Must remember what I did for next time!

Anyway, in the course of discussing resolutions and endings and when do you know the story has ended. (This last point was raised by one of the students who teaches Year 3 and it's something he pushes his kids to think about when they're writing. "Is it really The End?", he asks them, pointing out that Lucy's still stuck up the tree... It was great having him in the class tonight!) We talked about the need to fulfil the promise set up at the beginning of the novel, and knowing that, unless your character dies at the end, there's presumably more "story" for them to live. So how do you know when to finish?

We also had questions about the role of prologues and epilogues, and I spoke about how I rather wished EM Forster hadn't told us what happened to his characters after the end of A Room With a View (I think this must have been added to later editions, given it was published in 1908 and I recall the epilogue said George fought in WWI... anyone know?).

We talked about how too much information in the way of an epilogue
(referencing the last Harry Potter book, where JK expounded on what
everyone's future fate was), which can interfere with the readers own
engagement with the characters, their own idea of what might happen to
them, who they might (for example) marry. In the course of this discussion, I made reference to JK Rowling announcing to the world that Dumbledore was gay. (This was met with a loud exclamation from the Year 3 teacher who hadn't heard this news!)

After the class, one of the students stayed back because he wanted to explore the idea of the writer's responsibility to the reader a bit further. He explained that he'd always thought the writer's first responsibility was to themselves and their story, but that the discussion in class tonight had him thinking about the writers' responsibility to the reader. He cited the example of Ursula Le Guin's Earthsea trilogy, which he'd read as a child, and the betrayal he felt when he read Tehanu, Le Guin's revisiting (from, if I understand it correctly, a feminist perspective). It was as if she were re-writing the world and more importantly, the characters, he said, and he felt, as I said, betrayed.

I explained my understanding that the novel was an attempt by Le Guin to address the gender questions that vexed her about the original Earthsea books, and curiously, he'd picked up on this. He said he recalled thinking, even as a child, that this was a world that was "really down on women", but nevertheless he formed an attachment to the characters and felt that the retelling in Tehanu had turned characters he had a "relationship" with into something weak and puny. That he appreciated her impulse to address those gender issues, but thought maybe she should have done it in a completely new fictional world.

I reckon he had a point. There is an implicit contract between writer and reader, and my student was arguing that maybe this needs to be respected above the writer's own "rights" to their story and characters. I told him that many writers argue that once the book goes out into the world, they don't own it anymore. He liked that idea.

Then we went on to talk about whether or not writers are always the best judges of their own work, and the role of the editor and so it went. I really appreciated that he was so geared up by all these ideas that he wanted to hang back and discuss them. I didn't even mind missing the start of The Gruen Transfer!

Sometimes, even when it's the class you feel the least confident about, you end up feeling you did a pretty good job after all.

This time last week, I was privileged to speak on a panel for the South Coast Writers Centre with the delightful Sandy Fussell and the de-wicked DC Green (aka Craig), and chaired by Robbie Collins from the University of Wollongong. I caught the train down—much better than driving, you get great views without standing on your brakes all the way down that hideous hill, plus I read a good whack of Isobelle Carmody's fabulous Alyzon Whitestarr (why did it take me this long to read it?), watched Dr Horrible's Singalong Blog on my iPod and played with the internet connection on my phone. (Not looking forward to the bill...)

Cassie from the writers' centre picked me up soon after I checked into my motel, and she drove Sandy and me to Nowra—more windy, hilly roads, so thanks Cassie for driving! (Also on the way home, she bravely ignored a wallaby hopping along the side of the road that would have had me veering all over the shop... Local knowledge is a fine thing!) It is so green and gorgeous down on the south coast at the moment—I've never been to Wales, but it looked like what I imagine Wales looks like, with the emerald hills and the quaint farmhouses tucked away. Nowra itself looked like a nice little town—I've not been further south than Kiama in nearly 20 years—Sandy and I had a wander around the shops, and checked out the display of her Samurai kids books in the local A&R bookshops. (Only after asking the shop assistants in Dymocks where we could find the opposition. Not quite the done thing, but given the company's support for removing the restrictions on parallel importation on books, I don't feel too guilty!)

Back at the panel, we had an audience of about 25-30 people, mostly people interested in writing for children, although Craig had some old school friends turn up to hear him (and they didn't heckle once!).

The panel was called "Children's Books Now"—dunno if that was a part-pun on Nowra—and Robbie, as chair, had me kick proceedings off by addressing the question "why write for children?" That's kind of an impossible question to answer (why not is actually easier to address!), so I took a fairly wide-ranging approach, talking about the incredible breadth of the field that is collectively called "children's literature" and talking a bit about issues that come up in the class on writing children's books that I teach.

Sandy and Craig spoke from their various experiences as writers on a range of topics: I think what was particularly interesting for the audience was what they had to say about their respective processes. Craig is one of those writers for whom ideas just pour out, and he kind of has to race to keep up with them. Sandy tends to start with character and asks herself questions about what would happen to the character "if". As she draws a lot on historical fact in her books, she also does a lot of research. (If you haven't read her wonderful shortlisted junior novel, Polar Boy, I urge you to do so.) I tried to get Craig to describe what it meant to have such an extraordinary imagination, where the ideas just keep coming—how does that actually manifest itself? I think it's quite mysterious for those who have to really work for ideas—the main point thought was to validate that everyone has a different approach to writing and that the key thing is to find your own way in, rather than thinking there must be one "right" way.

One very interesting story emerged from Craig about his first novel, Erasmus James and the Galactic Zapp Machine (especially in terms of the discussion coming out of my last post about the gender-bias in the CBCA awards). Craig originally wrote Erasmus James with a female protagonist; for two reasons, he said. Firstly, he wanted to write a book for his daughter, and secondly, he wanted to write a high-action, plot-driven, accessible book with lots of bottom jokes—for girls. Fabulous! Except—the only publisher who made him an offer—and who wanted a trilogy—insisted he rewrite it with a male protagonist. What's a poor first-time author to do?*

Craig spoke about how this change threw out the entire balance of his book. You see, high-action, accessible books are not without "ideas"—not (or not necessarily) without that second layer of meaning that gives even the most plot-driven books some heft. For the original incarnation of Craig's book, it was the gender balance in the parent-child relationship. It was the protagonist's father who made the Galactic Zapp machine that sent her off on her adventures—where she met up with various father figures in different guises. The emotional core of the book, if you will. So when the publisher insisted that Craig change the protagonist's gender, he lost this balance—and when he proposed that the inventor parent become the mother, they wouldn't allow it on the grounds that a woman inventor wasn't, I dunno, believable or something...

It may come as no big shock to discover that the publisher is no longer in business, and Craig turned to self-publishing to get the last books in the trilogy published. I made the point to the audience that this story is an example of an unsympathetic (to say the least) editorial relationship, where the publisher didn't want the book for what it was, but for what they wanted it to be. That's always a bad publishing decision, and it's very unfair on the writer.

I'd also say it's a fascinating example of the damage inherent in the highly gendered way books for young readers are viewed and treated in the public arena. Boys will only read this kind of book, girls that kind of book. This mostly manifests itself as the old chestnut, boys won't read books about girls. Well, of course they won't if we don't a.) give them the chance to and b.) actively discourage them by the books we publish, promote and set in the classroom. (And now I am going against what I wrote about not commenting on author's intentions in the comments to my last post and say, and the books we write. Yes, I have heard an author say s/he deliberately changed the book's protagonist from female to male because it's just accepted fact that boys won't read about girls. The book, which I didn't think much of, won a major award a few years ago. I guess s/he knew more than me!)

How shockingly limiting—and as Craig's experience demonstrates, not just for the readers, but sometimes also for writers and the creative process. And, apparently, pity the poor girls who want read a rollicking, perhaps even slightly "blue" adventure story featuring Someone Like Them.

I know I've been banging this drum for evuh, but I really don't understand why we as a community still not only accept but in too many instances actively promulgate this situation. Imagine if this were sport—well, of course, it is sport (seen any boys playing netball lately?) but at least there's a decent level of discourse around the disparity of equity and access in sport, even if the media etc barely responds. We bookish types like to think we know, and do better. Time we did. End of sermon.

Anyway, the panel went on (yes, yes, we're back in Nowra again) for two hours with all of us barely drawing breath. The questions from the audience were really good—thoughtful and informed and discussion-provoking, and it seems everyone really enjoyed the session. I reckon we ought to take it on the road! (All offers welcome!)

Thanks so much to the South Coast Writers' Centre for the opportunity, and to Robbie for her excellent chairing, and to Sandy and Craig for being fabulous.

L-R: Craig, Sandy, me, Robbie

______

*Craig is actually a highly experienced journalist, specialising in surf writing, but that's no guarantee of a book deal, of course.

OK, so it's old news and I haven't blogged it. You all know by now that the Children's Book Council Book of Australia awards shortlists are out. I won't repost them: you can read them here and the Notables here. Discussion has started on the blogosphere, and I must say I don't have anything new to say about the awards or even the judging process that I haven't said a million times before (I'm boring myself!). I am glad that the CBCA says it's assessing its own procedures, but I think we need to take a "wait and see" attitude towards that claim. I attended many a national AGM in the 90s where various unsuccessful efforts were made to overhaul the judging process, and it's going to take some genuine cultural and systemic change to allow the radical rethink of the whole system many of us think is required. And the CBCA has not been particularly well known for welcoming cutural and structural change... (I might be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. Tell me if I'm wrong.)

And we the "punters" think the system needs an overhaul for really different reasons, not all of which I agree with. For the record, I am NOT in the "but kids never like the winners, they should be de facto popularity awards" camp. I am firmly of the belief that we can't seriously argue that children's books are deserving of respect from the mainstream writing/reading community if we secretly don't believe that they are deserving of recognition for literary quality from our own community. (Yes, yes, you did read a version of that in my comment on the above-linked Persnickety Snark post on the awards. Consistency sometimes requires repetition/cut-and-paste!)

That's not to say I always understand the decisions made by the CBC judges (d'oh! I'm tempted to say... Who does, who dares, outside that room?). My big question this year is why the Notables list appears to have been cut down substantially from previous years. There's a scant 20 books on the older readers list: and how Joanne Horniman's My Candlelight Novel (I think my favourite book from 2008, if I'm allowed favourites without upsetting anyone), Libby Gleeson's Mahtab's Story, Simmone Howell's Everything Beautiful, Julia Lawrinson's The Push aren't even considered notable is utterly beyond me. (Same goes for Melina Marchetta's On the Jellicoe Road: it took the (much-reviled) Americans to recognise the virtuosity of Melina's brilliant third novel.) I'd be tempted to argue that this (once again) reflects the CBCA awards' tendency to reward books about male experience time and time again, year in year out—but then Bill Condon's Best Book Ever (according to me!), Give Me Truth, was overlooked too. Although I've just remembered, it's a dual narrative, male and female, and also Bill's least bleak book. So who knows.

But back to my question: why is the Notables list so short? Is there some (misguided) idea that shorter is better: a distillation, if you will, of the best of the best? That's certainly not the spirit in which the Notables was created—which was to extend people's awareness of excellence beyond the lottery of the shortlist. Why put a limit on that? If a book is notable, it's notable, regardless of whether there are 20 or 120 other notable books published that year. I know, I know, you could make the same argument for the shortlists. Well, if we're going to have shortlists (which the US ALA Awards do not have, by the way/FYI) then there has to be a limit. Common sense tells us that. But why limit a list intended to promote the best writing for young readers? So I'd like to know why the Notables list has been reduced. Please comment if you have any inside information—you may do so anonymously!

Back to the shortlists/awards themselves. I am of the personal belief that an overhaul of two key things would have a significant impact on the books we see recognised. First of all, we need to open up who is eligible to judge. Other awards, both here and internationally, manage to have industry professionals and peers (ie authors and illustrators) on literary award judging panels. The limitations on who can be a CBCA judge means it generally falls to educators and librarians. I am not "dissing" my colleagues from these professions, but one's professional experience has a direct impact on one's assessment of literature. (I speak from personal experience as someone who has been teacher in secondary, tertiary and adult education contexts, editor, and a million other thing associated with children's book—all of these professions have significantly influenced my understanding of, attitudes to and ideas about books for young readers and issues of quality and assessment. It may surprise you to know, for example, how dramatically my assessment and understanding of Andy Griffiths' work changed after I taught The Day My Bum Went Psycho to university undergraduates...)

Related to this is the fact that the actual judging procedures are unnecessarily onerous. I don't know many people who seriously don't appreciate that too much is asked of the CBC judges—which is why, again with all due respect, the makeup of the judging panel skews older, female, frequently retired. The current nominees for the NSW judge are all women with the kind of work CVs that tell you they are Of A Certain Age. I'm Of A Certain Age myself (although not quite ready for retirement!), and I don't think I can possibly have the same ideas about books and reading that my colleagues in their 20s can have—and we ought to have that kind of insight and experience on the awards as well as the insight and experience of those of us who have been doing this for-evuh.

The second thing is that I don't think the CBC has been very effective in marketing the nature of the various award categories. People still, after 15+ years, don't get there's a mix of age-based and genre-based categories. They should (I'm really strong on this: any librarian or educator who still hasn't got the idea that picture books are not, and have not been for a long time, just for pre-schoolers [what was the publication date of The Water Tower again? Oh, that's right:19—frickin'—94!] need a sound slapping) but they don't. And it's up to, or down to, depending on where in the world you come from, the organising organisation to be better at informing the "target audience".

Yes, yes, I know, the mainstream and the literary media don't care, don't report, don't want to know. But when was the last time (and I can only speak for the NSW branch) a members' newsletter carried a detailed breakdown of the awards criteria, judging procedures and so on? OK, yes, you can get that on the internet. But why isn't the membership being kept informed of potential changes to the judging procedures—or better yet, being used as a resource and for a consultation process? I'm a member and I have to get my news about possible changes to the awards from brief Radio National interviews.

By the same token, I'm a member, and I haven't picked up the phone or written an email to request that this sort of information be better communicated to the membership. It's easy to complain about what's not been done than to participate in making sure it does happen! I've said this to the "the awards should be about popularity" contingent on one of my (US-based) listservs: if you don't like the rules, lobby to change them, but don't complain that the awards don't conform to rules that don't exist. (In my personal defence, I did do my time, as mentioned earlier, at National AGMS in the 90s!)

Finally, finally, back to the shortlists. Whatever I may have said here, I am genuinely pleased for those whose books who have been recognised, especially the newer writers (yay, Sandy!). There are some fantastic books recognised in the CBC shortlists, and I have some personal attachments to some of them (they know who they are). It's good to see illustrated books ending up on fiction lists—we have much to thank Shaun Tan for breaking down this particular barrier (remember the kerfuffle when he won the Book of the Year in the NSW Premier's Awards?), although I know it will not please everyone.

(And also, if I didn't mention you or yer book, it doesn't mean I didn't like it, or you!)

So anyway, that's my annual non-rant rant. I'd like to add the
following: I didn't give ten years of my life to the CBC just to become
a turncoat backstabber. It's our organisation: we should support and
more than that, we should be (ack, I hate this word) pro-active in
encouraging it to be better at what it does and the way it communicates
what it does. But it also needs to do better. It needs to seriously
consider its role in the 21st century.

---

PS: For those who have been wondering about the phantom nature of this post: Yes, it's gone up and down and been edited a couple of times. I think this is finally the version that says what I want to say without unnecessarily offending anyone. Thanks.

I've had an astonishingly busy ten days, and really should properly blog the lot, but that would require an level of energy I don't appear to have at the moment. Let me simply tease you with the following brief notations, with the hope I will fill in the gaps anon:

Monday:

Free preview tickets to a movie that unexpectedly got deeply under my skin.

Tuesday:

Midday: The announcement of the 2009 NSW Premier's Literary Awards.

Evening: Dinner with a bunch of picture book folk and the delightful Dr Maria Linsmann-Dege from the Museum Burg Wissem in Germany.

Wednesday:

Midday: Lunch with Dr Maria, Jeremy from the ASA and the charming director of the Goethe Institute, Klaus Krischok.

Evening: Teaching.

Thursday:

First real function of the year: the program launch for the Sydney Writers' Festival. (I'm on it! Squee!)

Friday:

The announcement of the Australian Society of Authors Barbara Jefferis award. I briefly met Helen Garner, when she signed my copy of her winning novel The Spare Room, and was inarticulate and discombobulated. Damn.

Saturday:

Opening of "Echoes of Blacktown" Darug art and cultural exhibition.

Sunday:

The Historic Houses Trust 70s day in The Rocks with my family.

Monday:

Morning: Best-selling author and nearly 900 kids in Bowman Hall, Blacktown.

Evening: bedtime outrageously postponed by what was supposed to be a quicky blog entry. And still, no photos!

So here, in lieu, is a photo from last week of my youngest niece, who wears her colours on her hip. Team Jacob!

   

I made a good start to the blogging year, didn't I, but have been a bit slack the past couple of weeks. I have been busy, but I've also somehow completely changed my routine. Naturally a late to bed, late to rise girl, I've been waking up (and often getting up) around 6am, sometimes going for morning walks with friend-and-neighbour Pamela, getting into work nice and early (lots and lots on at the moment)... I even got up at 6 o'clock on Sunday to take part in an online chat about fairytale retellings, part of the online FlyCon—my first spec fiction convention!

I am rather liking this new Morning Me, except that the penalty is being very sleepy at night, even falling asleep on the couch around 10 o'clock. So, not so much energy at night to blog and so on.

Anyway, enough explanations/excuses! I have been collecting stuff to blog about and here is a little roundup based on the fact that as the new year has gotten under way, the new books have been coming in a pleasingly steady flow.

So, about a month ago, that same Pamela's new book, Victor's Challenge, was launched at Cerdon College, a Catholic secondary school in western Sydney where Pamela's brother Paul teaches.

Victor's Challenge is the sequel—after about more than ten years!—to Pamela's beloved Victor's Quest. In this sequel, Victor has won the girl's heart—now he has to win her hand from two reluctant parents (his mum, her dad). It's a terrific sequel, satisfying as a novel (or chapter book) in its own right, but progressing the story and the characters for readers familiar with the prequel. Victor is such a dear character, and he is in fine form here—and there's the welcome reprisal of a most popular character from the first book. I hope it will be as fondly received by its readership as Victor's Quest was—and there's still one more Victor adventure to come!

I was one of the speakers at the Victor's Challenge launch—Pamela invited me both in my official capacity as the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Officer, but also because I was one of the book's first readers, and as such contributed to one of the early edits of the book before it was ready to go to the publisher. But the real stars of the day (apart from Pamela's son Robert, who totally stole the show!) were three fans, Alyssa, Talia and Maddie, Year 9 students who are huge fans of Pamela and her books.

It was a lovely launch. The school hall was filled with kids from Cerdon's feeder primary schools, but I think it's fair to say that the high school girls were as, if not more excited, about the launch and meeting Pamela as the younger kids were. Here's a photo of Pamela and Robert with Alyssa, Talia and Maddie—you can see some more (including me in the red pants) here.

    

So, that was my first launch of the year, in February. Pop forward a couple of weeks to not-exactly-a-launch, but a lunch, to celebrate the publication of two fine books by two fine friends and one-time colleagues: Ursula Dubosarsky and Cassandra Golds. I worked with both Ursula and Cassandra at different times at The School Magazine, but more than that (and before and after that) they are good friends who also happen to be remarkable writers.

The books whose publication we were celebrating in the first week of March are Ursula's brilliant and hilarious picture book, The Terrible Plop, stylishly illustrated by Andrew Joyner, and Cassandra's wonderfully atmospheric and at times downright creepy novel The Museum of Mary Child. Very different books, very different audiences: The Terrible Plop is a classic fable-in-rhyme in the spirit of Little Rabbit Foo-Foo, while The Museum of Mary Child is a gothic tale with a healthy streak of horror which older children whose tastes run to such things will relish*.

Cassandra and Ursula invited a small group of us to lunch at the delightful Tea Room in the QVB, a fitting setting for this literary soiree of sorts (especially if you've seen the very spooky, long, Mary-Child-ish hallway that leads to the rest rooms—you half expect Jack Nicholson to stick his head through the plasterboard at any moment!).

I've only read either of the books pre-publication. The Terrible Plop I read in page proofs, but The Museum of Mary Child I read as a manuscript, so I am very eager to read the final version of the novel now it's been edited and published.

So thrilled about these books! The really important thing about both Casandra and Ursula is they are writers who simply aren't like anyone else. They write books that aren't like anything else that's out there for young readers, books that challenge and demand of their readers, even as they entertain and satisfy, intellectually and aesthetically. Yay for that, yay for them, and yay for Penguin for publishing them. It's not all bums and skittles (and vampires) out there and hallellujah for that. (And I reminded that I have neglected to mention Penguin's new youth website, Between the Lines, so here 'tis. Check it out.)

Here's Ursula with the Plop (and our friend the illustrator Stephen Axelsen in the background), and Cassandra with Afternoon Tea. If you want to see them in the Corridor of Doom, there's a couple of shots on my Flickr account.

                             

The evening after Cassandra and Ursula's lunch, two more Ladies who Launch were in conversation at Konikuniya bookshop in the city. Margo Lanagan and Justine Larbalestier chatted about Justine's new book, How to Ditch Your Fairy, just published here by those smart onions at Allen and Unwin. I loved How to Ditch Your Fairy; it's smart and knowing and very, very funny. Reminds me tonally of Laurie Halse Anderson's Prom, but also has a distinctive Australian feel to it, to me, in the laconic humour and the practical nature of its protagonist. Most definitely recommended (as is Justine's blog). 

I had battery issues on the night, so this is the only pic I got. (Sorry, Justine!)

And finally, here's a new book I haven't read yet but am extremely thrilled and excited about: Tohby Riddle's first novel The Lucky Ones. I received my review copy this week and am really looking forward to it. Tohby is another friend and colleague from The School Magazine, and a fantastic picture author/illustrator, so I have high expectations of this novel. Here's the cover, which if you know Tohby's work, you will recognise his signature style:

Haaaaarbour Bridge!

Cool. Congratulations on all these really wonderful new books, and more to come. It's looking like a fantastic year for Australian children's and YA books.

*And here's a little treat, speaking of kids who like creepy books: Neil Gaiman on The Colbert Report. Hilarious!

Browsing today's Sydney Morning Herald, I was saddened to read of the death of children's book illustrator Kilmeny Niland. I gather Kilmeny had been ill for only a short time, and passed away yesterday. Kilmeny was the daughter of writers Ruth Park and D'Arcy Niland and twin of Deborah (amongst her other siblings), also a book illustrator.

Kilmeny had recently returned to book illustration after what seemed like a longish absence (if I'm mistaken about this, please correct me in the comments section—this is my own observation, not having seen any new titles from her for some time before last year). Two recent titles—Fat Pat and Two Tough Teddies—are typical of her characteristic charming, witty, child-friendly style. I remember reading Fat Pat aloud to my colleagues when I received my review copy around this time last year, to their great delight—so it wasn't just kids who appreciate Kilmeny's funny and compassionate books.

My great sympathy to Kilmeny's husband and children and to all her family. This is another great loss to Australian children's books.

One of the great champions of Australian children's books and their readers, Sandy Campbell, passed away overnight.

For those readers outside of NSW who didn't have the great good fortune to know her, Sandy was a stalwart of the Children's Book Council, giving more hours (and years) than any of us could hope to count of her expertise, experience and sheer commitment and dedication. Professionally, she worked for many years for Scholastic Australia, and then as a freelance publicity agent, and despite many years of ill health, there was hardly a children's book event that she didn't support and attend. She served on CBC state and national executives; she was on the committee of both NSW-hosted CBC conferences; but more than this, she was one of the kindest, most generous, gentle and loving souls you could ever hope to meet.

Everyone who knew her will have a Sandy story to share. Mine is this:

Back in the early 90s, I was still the new kid on the block in the local children's book scene. I had joined the CBC and was involved with the book fairs and the weekend ALOUD program and people knew me, but I was still pretty much a newbie amongst all these old friends and colleagues. Mostly I was welcomed, but there was one publicist from a certain publishing house who, for some reason, took it upon herself to patronise and dismiss me at every turn. Probably she didn't even realise she was doing it—and she can't have been that much older than me—but in any case, she always managed to make me feel "this small".

In about 1994, the Book of the Year awards were announced in Sydney, and we had a celebratory luncheon at a restaurant somewhere down by the water. Sandy, you need to know, was at this time having treatment for what I think was her first or second bout of cancer, but she was at the lunch, as she was nearly always at events, even when she was ill. For my part, I was wearing a smart new wide-brimmed black felt hat to this smart luncheon—hey, it was the 90s and I looked good in a hat! Anyway, I kept my hat on at lunch, as my mother had always told me one did, only to be completely upbraided by That Publicist—in front of everyone at the table. It was a deeply personal attack, and loudly made, directed at me and my lack of manners and decorum in leaving my hat on during the meal.

I was mortified—when really I should have just told her to bugger off and mind her own business—and then Sandy leaned over and said to me, "Well, Judy, I for one am grateful you left your hat on—otherwise I'd be the only one wearing one."

Yes, Sandy was also wearing a hat—actually, I think it was a smart arrangement of scarves—to cover her loss of hair from the chemotherapy. Now I look back in astonishment at That Publicist's enormous lack of tact in saying what she said to me, given Sandy was on the same table—but more than that, I have never forgotten Sandy's kindness in putting my embarrassment and dis-ease before what must have been her own discomfort. Sandy made me feel I had done her a favour, when it was she did me the great good favour of making me feel welcome and in my place and not some ring-in nobody who didn't know how to behave herself in public. It was just so typical of her.

Sandy dealt with so much ill health over the years, and lost her beloved husband just a few short years ago, but there was so much joy and satisfaction in her life as well. I didn't know her family, but I know she was able to enjoy a new granddaughter in recent times. She was able to attend the Lady Cutler presentation just before Christmas, which I guess was her last children's book event (fittingly; Sandy was also a Lady Cutler recipient, perhaps one of the most deserving of all).

I never saw Sandy but she was pleased to see me (even during those times when I was persona non grata with a few of the CBC old guard), and greeted me with warmth, a hug and a kiss.

Much more will be said about this wonderful woman over the coming days and weeks, especially about her many professional accomplishments, and I will report back on them as they emerge. I am so sorry she's gone, but so glad her suffering is over. There's no measuring how much she was loved and how much she'll be missed.

Today's paper had a 12 page feature on last week's bush fires in Victoria, including a series of essays by Australian writers. Sonya Hartnett's piece, "We Have All Lost Something" is particularly beautiful and moving, I think:

Everyone in this state, this country, and the world has lost something
in these fires. Those forests that have burned were beautiful things.
Those animals were precious. Those towns were keepers of our story.
Those people were linked in countless ways to the rest of us. In losing
these, we have each lost something irreplaceable.

Other essays are by Les Murray, Mark Seymour and Thomas Keneally. And there's this piece by writer Adrian Hyland, whose daughter attends Strathewen Primary School, which was lost in the fire:

Losing their school had magnified the loss: without it, they had no
centre, no sense of security, they feared for the future. Siena and her
friends, Tiahn and Sunday - sounding like diggers about to go over the
top - told each other that they could handle just about anywhere, as
long as they could stay together.

It's a beautiful tribute to community and the schools that are at the heart of community. And Strathie PS will be rebuilt.The diggers would be proud.