Misrule

And how very exciting the lists are! As I mentioned a while back, these newish awards (actually, I think this is only Year 2) have added a children's and a young adult fiction category—with prize money of $100,000 for the winner of each category, equal to the "adult" categories.

Here are the lists:

Children's fiction

• Cicada
  Summer by Kate Constable
  
• The
  Terrible Plop by Ursula Dubosarsky and illustrator
  Andrew Joyner
  
• Just
  Macbeth! by Andy Griffiths and illustrator Terry Denton
  
• Mr
  Chicken goes to Paris by Leigh Hobbs
  
• Running
  with the Horses by Alison Lester
  
• Star
  Jumps by Lorraine Marwood
  
• Mannie
  and the Long Brave Day by Martine Murray and illustrator
  Sally Rippin
  
• Tensy
  Farlow and the Home for Mislaid Children by Jen
  Storer
  
• Harry
  and Hopper by Margaret Wild and illustrator Freya
  Blackwood

Young adult fiction

• Stolen
  by Lucy Christopher
  
• The
  Winds of Heaven by Judith Clarke
  
• Confessions
  of a Liar, Thief and Failed Sex
  God by Bill Condon
  
• The
  Museum of Mary Child by Cassandra Golds
  
• Swerve
  by Phillip Gwynne
  
• Jarvis
  24 by David Metzenthen
  
• Beatle
  meets Destiny by Gabrielle Williams

You can also see the adult fiction and non-fiction shortlists here.

I'm curious at the length of each of these shortlists: 7 for the YA and a whopping 9 for children's—which of course means there's room for a solid mix of prose fiction and picture books (and of course, a play script). I imagine this means that the judges (and yes, I'll confess, I WANT THAT GIG!) have some flexibility. I'll have to look out the judging criteria and give it (them?!) a read.

I think these are both remarkably strong lists. It's not possible for me to comment on them in detail, because a good number of the authors and/or illustrators are friends—one or two of them close friends—previous colleagues, or people I have or will work with on the Western Sydney project. What I can say is that I hope this shortlist brings these individual authors, illustrators and books a great deal of well-deserved attention, and that the status of the Prime Minister's award goes some long way to raising the profile and status of children's and youth literature in the media and the community.

I can't imagine the tension, though, of anticipating the $100,000 prize. What a difference it will make to those who receive it—what a disappointment for those who get >that close<! (I guess the closest I can come to are my current personal real estate shenanigans!) So let us celebrate these wonderful books, the fact these awards exist, and bonne chance one and all!

There are, in fact, many reasons why I love Hilary McKay. (Tell me yours in the comments!) This bit from Forever Rose made me laugh and sigh in admiration. Sheer chutzpah! And look out for Caddy's World in 2011 (yay!). In the meantime, enjoy (and please forgive the formatting disaster):

When I finally reached home today Saffy and Sarah were waiting for me. Sarah had brought me another book.

“I am determined to get you addicted to the things,” she said, handing me a
bright pink paperback. “I cannot bear for you to be missing so much. Try this.
It is as unlike poor Gombrich as I could possible find. Hardly any pictures
(and then only black and white and of the crudest kind). Not heavy at all
(observe the cheapness of the paper on which it is printed). and utterly
relevant to you, Rosy Pose!”

Oh good.

“A family story, you see,” continued Sarah. “Concerning (I gather, I must admit
I only skimmed) a family very like yours. Absent father. Slightly daft mother.
No cleaner. Large family of talented children with central focus on the
youngest (a remarkable child)…”

“Yucky pucky,” I said. “I think Molly has read that book. I’ve seen her with
something that looks just like it.”

“Very likely,” said Sarah. “They churn them out by the million. I can get you a
never-ending supply if necessary.”

I said she need not bother. It would almost certainly not be necessary. Then I
attempted to change the subject by pretending to sneeze enormously into Kai’s
fake blood-soaked hanky which he had very kindly lent for the night. It worked
superbly. Saffy and Sarah shrieked like witches and hit me. But they did not
forget the book.

“Try it!” ordered Saffron sternly. “Do not force us to resort to blackmail!”
while Sarah begged, “Oh please read it! Read the first page anyway. Just to get
the page-turning habit. It might lead you on to better things.”

After they had gone (Extra Spanish again) I tried to read that book. I really
did. Sarah’s remarks about the remarkable youngest (to whom I shall refer to as
R Y) made me slightly curious.

R Y was easy to find, there she was first page, second paragraph, very sorry
for herself.

Hmmm.

I hunted her out halfway through and she was still having a bad time.

By the last page R Y was occupying nearly all the print and a quick flip
backwards showed she had been doing this for some chapters. She was getting a
lot of attention (lucky old R Y). Was she pleased at this unmerited rise to
family fame? No. According to her final Big Moan absolutely nothing had
improved.

The End.

That book has nothing to do
with me. Daddy is not absent; he is worrying about me in London. Mummy is not
slightly daft; she is sensibly trying to keep her germs in the shed. I suppose
Mummy’s pictures might safely be called daft, if that is all they were.
Pictures. But of course, they are not. They are dinner money and bags of apples
and car repairs and new trainers and Stay Fresh Muffins. And I am NOTHING LIKE
that dismal remarkable youngest!

Do you think I will still be moaning on the last page?

NO!

Throw the book away!

(Please don't!)

Hair! It's everywhere! But more of that in a minute.

I had a very theatrical day today. First thing, I had the opportunity to see the wonderful Monkey Baa Theatre production based on the picture book Fox by Margaret Wild and Ron Brooks. (For those of you who aren't familiar with them, Monkey Baa specialises
in children's theatre, adapting children's and young adult books for the
stage. I have now seen three of their productions and they have all
been wonderful.)

This production (a partnership with Siren Theatre Co) takes Margaret's beautiful text and turns it into an opera, performed by a singer-narrator (The Spirit) and three dancers, using costume, puppets and cloth to represent Dog, Magpie and Fox, and their joyful and desperate races across the Australian landscape.

The auditorium at Parramatta Riverside Theatre was well-packed with primary school aged children, and although I sat up the very back, you could just tell they were completely enthralled with the performance—even despite the perhaps challenging score and that it was likely the first time any of them had experienced operatic singing. I sat behind some boys who looked to me to be about Year 5, and they weren't the least bit restless. And the questions asked of the cast the end were mature, insightful, and surprisingly sophisticated. One student asked about the relationship between the narrator Spirit and Magpie—was Spirit meant to be a bird of prey somehow connected to Magpie. And indeed, something very like that had been part of their discussions in developing the piece for performance.

It was such a pleasure to experience this performance—I was teary at the very beginning, seeing the friendship of Dog and Magpie portrayed and knowing what was to come. I was actually working with Margaret at ABC Books when she wrote Fox, and I was privileged to read it in early draft form, so it's a book that I hold very dear for that reason alone—but also because I think it's in the top handful of best picture books every published in this country.

I met with Tim and Eva from Monkey Baa (and their intern Katie) just yesterday to discuss our respective work and we hope to work together on some projects as soon as the spring school holidays. I'm extremely pleased about that! And what lovely folk they are. I was heavily involved in theatre at university (Good heavens! Dramac has a website!) and while it's not my first love it is a great one.

And so to the rest of my day—and hair! (No, not Hair, despite my subject heading, although it's a favourite!)

Although the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project is a regional project, it is hosted by Blacktown City Council, and so the fabulous staff at the Blacktown Arts Centre are my colleagues. The Arts Centre offers visual and performing arts residencies, and today the two women who had just completed their performing arts residency presented the work they've been working on over the past three weeks. I'm not going to go into too much detail here, as the residency is absolutely the start of the development of the work, and it's not my place to reveal their creative ideas so early on in the piece, but I can say that it is on the theme of hair, and women's (in particular)  relationship to their hair and what our hair has to do with our sense of identity, beauty, culture, race and our personal history.

Gosh, I wish I could say more, because the three ideas presented (and they encompassed not just performance but also writing and visual art) were each in their own way very powerful, but one in particular really resonated with me—it was to do with the idea that our hair is a physical artifact of our lives. (Hair generally grows 1.5 cm per month, so your hair is your history...) So say you found a jumper you hadn't worn in ten years, and it had strands of your hair still on it? That's you, ten years ago. It kind of knocked me sideways (in a really good way) to think of it like that. (Like a lot of women, my personal sense of well-being and presentability is often attached to my hair. You can get away with a LOT if you've had a really good cut and colour. And remember the scandals when Felicity and Buffy cut their hair? Culturally, hair is amazingly powerful. Just consider the politics around African American women—including the First Lady—and their hair.)

Anyway, watching the presentation this afternoon, I started thinking about hair in children's books—and what a lot of it there is! It struck me that the two stories I read at Oxley Park PS's Paint the Town Read reading day, which I blogged about recently, were both about hair. There's the centrality of hair to so many fairy tales—Rapunzel, of course, but how many fairy tale heroines are named for the colour of their hair? (It's no accident that Marina Warner called her classic investigation of the fairy tale From the Beast to the Blonde.) Jo March cuts off her hair—her "one beauty". Pippi Longstocking's pigtail/plaits are a key visual clue to her character.

Come on, surely there's more? I'm not making this up, am I? I kept thinking of the rituals of childhood—of how I loved to "do" my mother's hair; of how, when my dad explained I was going to have my ears pinned back, that it meant that I would be able to push my hair behind my ears. How my eldest sister, as a small child, cut her gollywog's hair, not understanding it would not grow back.

So, come on, have a think—Hair. Kids' books. Your time starts now—comment!

(Of course, if there's nothing else, there's always this!):

I've been enjoying watching book trailers since they emerged in the past couple of years, and I think they could be a terrific project to work on with young people. I'm wondering if anyone has done this, if they have guidelines or "how tos" or even any ideas about what you think makes for a good, effective book trailer. Also, where do people get the music from without breaking copyright? I'm really keen to start collecting and developing resources on book trailers, so please use the comments section to voice your thoughts on the topic, or if you already have resources you're willing to share, please email me: judith dot ridge at gmail dot com

I think I've linked to the odd book trailer before, and I'm going to again here. Kirsty Eager, who wrote what I think is one of 2009's most over-looked YA novels, Raw Blue, has her second novel, Saltwater Vampires, due in September. Kirsty has a terrific book trailer for Saltwater Vampires, which had me as soon as I read the word Batavia*. But even if you don't know the history of that terrible shipwreck (and Kirsty tells me she has taken some liberties with the history, as you might expect from the title), I think the trailer works fantastically well as an extremely atmospheric and creepy teaser for the novel. I for one can't wait for the book. And I am entirely confident there's not a sparkly vampire to be found!

_________________

*While we're on the subject, which one of you lot borrowed my (signed) copy of Gary Crew's Strange Objects?

Over the past year or so, as part of my day job, I've been partnering on a number of Paint the Town Read projects in western Sydney. Paint the Town Read is a community reading and early literacy initiative, developed more than 12 years ago in Parkes by the dynamic Rhonda Brain, then the principal at Parkes PS. Rhonda was concerned about the literacy levels of the schools' students, and so decided to put all their resources into literacy programs for the K-2 students (Stage 1 in NSW).This made a difference, but they were still only getting about 85% of their kids up to benchmark, and what the teachers determined was that the children who were falling behind weren't coming to school with the required degree of literacy-readiness—they were coming from text-poor home environments, where they weren't read to or exposed adequately to language through books, talking, singing, rhymes and so on.

So Rhonda decided a community education and awareness-raising project was needed, and so Paint the Town Read was born. 12 years later, the project's mascot the Reading Bug turns up at all community events; business around town carry posters and coasters and flyers about the importance of reading to your baby, tips for reading with your children, there's an annual community reading day, and it's just generally been absorbed into the fabric of community life. According to Rhonda, a local police chief said something to the effect of "In [insert name of another large western NSW town here] they steal cars; in Parkes they read books." Men in singlets in the local RSL club can be heard extolling the pleasures of reading with their children. And when the Reading Bug had a baby bug, the entire town turned out to welcome the new arrival.

(I wish there were a central site to link to, but there's not as yet, although Rhonda is busy working to make PTTR a national strategy for early literacy and I imagine a website is now just a matter of time. In the mean time, if you search for Paint the Town Read you will find a range of links that go to resources and a variety of local community PTTR projects.)

Paint the Town Read is taking off all over the place in western Sydney. In the Blue Mountains, Paint the Blue Read has been working effectively for more than a year. Launches for the St Marys area were held last year at Oxley Park  and St Marys South Public Schools, events were held in Riverstone and Mount Druitt and the program is starting as we speak in Blacktown, Auburn and Parramatta. In time, I'm hoping it might spread across to south western Sydney as well. The projects are being driven by community workers from Mission Australia and the like, and I've been helping to provide resources and authors for events, and sitting on some of the steering committees.

Oxley Park PS has become something of a hub for the project in St Marys,and has established a weekly reading morning at the school, where parents are encouraged to read with their children before school begins. (I was able to donate a box of the many review copies of picture books I receive at work for Oxley Park's reading tent.) To launch this new addition to the school calendar, they held a special reading day a couple of weeks ago, and I was invited along to be one of the guest readers. We were asked to bring along favourite books from our own childhood to share with the students. (Other reading guests included the Canteen Lady and groundsman, I believe, so I was in excellent company!)

I took along three books, not knowing what age I'd be reading to—Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, Ruth Manning-Sanders' A Book of Ghosts and Goblins and a favourite picture book, Firebrand—Push Your Hair Out Of Your Eyes by Natalie Scott and Sandra Smith.

I started with a Year 2 class, and so the choice was clear—it was Firebrand for these kids. Now, I adored this book as a child, largely because, like Firebrand, my mother was always at me to push my hair out of my eyes. (Although my hair was nothing like Firebrand's gorgeous thick, deep red hair, alas.) My memory is that we used to borrow the book every year from Gosford Library when we were on the Central Coast for our annual summer holiday, although my friend Cassandra Golds remembers it being available from the Katoomba library (or it may have been the school library) when we were both children there in 1969 or so. (The book was published in 1968.)

I really didn't know how the children would respond to it—it's very much a moral tale, with naughty, bad-tempered Firebrand learning her lesson about tying her hair back neatly when she falls out of a tree (which she's climbed and discovered how much she can see when the wind blows her hair back, and she falls, of course, when her hair falls into her face as she looks down as she descends). I remember feeling a little put out at Firebrand's reformation myself as a child, but even so, the book clearly resonated with me—so much so that my parents eventually bought me my own copy.

The other thing I wasn't sure they;d respond to was the illustrations. The book is almost hilariously 60s psychedelic in its illustrative style and colours. (You can see a small low-res image of the cover here. Alas, I have since packed my copy and can't scan any of the pages to show you.) And of course, being published in 1968, the palette is limited by the printing technology of the day.

Well, they hung off every word. Laughed, shivered, loved it. Asked questions, pointed at the pictures—everything little kids do when you read to them. They particularly seemed to like Firebrand's four aunts, for those of you who know the book and remember them. I didn't expect them, of course, to reject the book openly on the grounds of its period look, or slightly old-fashioned morality tale feel (actually, much as I warn my students off writing them, I suspect very young children rather like plainly stated morals in their stories!), but I did wonder if a 42 year old book would hold their attention. And it did. A story is a story, and a good story will always find an audience. And a shared good story is perhaps the best of all.

The next class I read to was a Year 5 (or maybe 6?) class, potentially a tougher audience, but they were great too. (Oxley Park, it must be said, is a fantastic school and has a wonderful, strong but kindly and warm principal in Karen Maraga.) I told them about Harriet the Spy—they didn't know the book, and only a couple had even seen the movie—and read them a few of my favourite of Harriet's notebook observations ("If Marion Hawthorne doesn't watch out she's going to grow up into a lady Hitler") and showed them the illustration of her classmates after they have found and read that notebook. 

I decided, though, to read them a story that has stayed with me—dare I say, haunted me!—for more than thirty years. She's perhaps not all that well known or remembered these days, but Ruth Manning-Sanders was one of the most popular authors among my friends. I remember whenever we'd go to the Auburn Library, we'd go straight to the M shelves to borrow (and re-borrow) one of her wonderful collections of folk tales. I loved A Book of Folk and Fairy Tales, A Book of Princes and Princesses—I love all of them, but I especially loved A Book of Ghosts and Goblins and in that book, I most especially loved the story "Golden Hair".

"Golden Hair" (from Corsica) is the story of an evil Count who falls in love with a peasant girl named Golden Hair—or rather, falls in love with her cascade of beautiful hair. Golden hair's lover kills the Count and must flee—and when he sends word to her for a year later, it is instead the wicked, dead Count who comes for her.

As he rides with Golden Hair to the City of the Dead—and Golden Hair does not realise at first it is not her lover with whom she rides—the story repeats this refrain:

Patata, patata, patata, go faster go faster, go faster!

It was utterly thrilling. And I have had that refrain in my head (not permanently, you understand...) for decades...

So I read "Golden Hair" to the kids at Oxley Park and I can tell you—this ghost story has not lost a shred of its power to enthrall. And that actually doesn't surprise me. Manning-Sanders was an extraordinary writer, with a fantastically eccentric and effective way with language*. It was as much the power of her language as it was her stories that captured our imagination as children—and the children in that classroom at Oxley Park, far from Wales and the west country of England where she lived and worked her days.

I should also say that a big part of the appeal of Manning-Sanders' collections were the wonderful illustrations by Robin Jacques. Unfortunately, my scanner is suddenly playing up, so I can't scan the back cover of A Book of Ghosts and Goblins, which features the illustration for "Golden Hair", but if you look at Jacques' Wiki entry (linked above) there are links to plenty of sites showing his illustrations, and I'll try for the scan again later. However, here's a smallish image of the cover:

I've been steadily collecting copies of the Manning-Sanders collections. Most of them are ex-library copies, which is fitting, given I discovered her in the library, and I am pleased to have them. Oh, for a Jacques original!

So—stories that straddle the ages, the generations, that transcend period and fashion and place—so many stories! It's such a delight to get to share them with kids. I forget that, because I don't often personally get the chance. I need to do that more often. Paint the town read.

________________________________

(*I didn't think of that as a child reader, but I discovered it from the inside years later when I was working at The School Magazine and discovered, to my astonishment and delight, that we had unpublished Manning-Sanders stories on file—and I got to edit some of them! Not that you'd dare do much more than a light run-through for fear of disrupting her delicately, yet complexly constructed prose. Apparently the long-lived Manning-Sanders had an similarly long-living daughter, who sent her mother's unpublished stories to the School Magazine—and I'll leave it at that for Jonathan Shaw to fill out the story in the comments!)

Last time Neil Gaiman swept the awards with the fabulous The Graveyard Book, I did my damndest to track all the online coverage. Idiot. Gaiman must be one of the net's highest profiled and followed authors, and I just couldn't keep up. So this time I'm not going to try. He has won the Carnegie medal for The Graveyard Book and you can set up your own damn google alerts.

(Or else you can just follow his blog, and read this post where he describes his delight at winning and his frustration at stoopid vampire-obsessed media coverage. Also, he has a new dawg. Nice. Congrats, Neil. I can well imagine how treasured this particular medal is to you.)

Equally or perhaps even more exciting is the news that Our Own Freya Blackwood has won the Greenaway Award for illustration for the beautiful Harry and Hopper, written by my dear friend and one-time colleague Margaret Wild. Margaret is without question Australia's most distinguished picture book author, and I am thrilled that her lovely book has received this recognition, but the Greenaway is for illustration, so full kudos and Woot! Woot! to Ms Blackwood. Her work has always been beautiful, and it has perhaps never been better than in Harry and Hopper.

I have been holding off (for weeks!) writing my final post about Sydney Writers' Festival as I've been hoping the recording of my panel session with Melina Marchetta and David Levithan might become available. And I never got word it was, and I kind of forgot to chase it up, and then life went on...

And then today, before the Penrith Migrant and Refugee Stories launch began, my friend and colleague Libby Gleeson said to me, you know you're on Radio National? Well, no, I didn't know that, and I was a bit discombobulated, because only last night a friend on Twitter said to me, have you seen the meanland article you get a mention The incalculable cultural significance of The Library, and no, I hadn't seen the MeanLand article, and when I read it I discovered that the author assumed I was a librarian.

Now, I have often been assumed to be a librarian, but I'm not. And then when I make the correction, the assumers apologise. And there's nothing to apologise for. I kinda wish I were a librarian, but I certainly can't lay claim to a qualification and a profession I do not have. Thus my correction (which is not remotely a disavowal).

Anyhoo...

So Libby said to me, you know you're on Radio National, and no, I didn't know that, but it turned out that an edited version of the Sydney Writers' Festival session with Melina and David, which, as you know, I chaired, was being broadcast on Radio National's Book Show.

Which was jolly decent of them, given how often I have taken the Book Show (and its presenter) to task over its track record on discussion of children's and youth literature.

At the end of the Penrith launch, I checked Twitter, only to find a veritable plethora of tweets about the panel being on RN, which was kinda exciting.

So here, in case you missed it, is the link to the broadcast. (I'd love to get a copy of the recording of the full hour, so the search continues...)

edited to note: Much as I am mistaken for a librarian, I have oft been called Judith Wright, and so the Book Show has mistook me. Alas, no, Ms Wright has not been resurrected as a YA lit fangal. It's just little ole me.

I was a bit naughty posting the link to the video the other day. The filmmaker, University of Western Sydney Communications student Andres Rios, didn't mean for the rough cut to be made public, and he's now taken it down so the link no longer works. However, we now have a finished cut of the video, which was shown at today's launch of the anthology of stories that came out of the project.

I'm afraid I don't have any photos, but the launch was lovely. Erin Vincent, who led the workshops with the students, wasn't able to be there, but she sent a lovely video message to the students. Dr Stepan Kerkyasharian AM, Chair of the Community Relations Commission, launched the book, and his speech was wonderful. He'd done his homework about the Penrith region and its history of migration (Henry Parkes was an early migrant resident of the area) and referred to some of the stories in the anthology as examples of the hardships and losses, but also the joys experienced by those who choose—or are forced to choose—to leave their homes and move to another country.

It was lovely to see the students again (although unfortunately one school couldn't make it—we're planning on organising an assembly at the school to present them with their books) and to see the students and their storytellers reunite.

We're hoping at some point that the stories will be available online. In the meantime, hard copies of the book will go into libraries and community centres in Penrith, and I will also organise for a copy to be sent to both the Mitchell Library and the National Library of Australia.

And now, here's the finished video. Apparently a longer version will be screened on community television station TVS, so if I hear when, I'll post. (And apologies, I can't figure out how to post this without the code showing. I used to be so good at this...)

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name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param
name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed
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This is very short notice, but Libby Gleeson will be on Margaret Throsby's show on ABC Classic FM at 10 am tomorrow morning (23 June 2010). She is hoping to find a opportunity to talk about the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project, which would be excellent. (Libby is chair of our advisory group.) If not, she'll just be fabulous on her own terms as a writer, teacher and children's and youth literature advocate. And if you miss it, you'll be able to listen later online. Cheers!

Usual apologies for silence, only this time, as some of you will know, I have an EXCELLENT excuse. I am in the middle of real estate shenanigans, having bought this gorgeous place (OK, paid a holding deposit, but it's all moving along as it should) and am busy getting the Ashfield flat ready to sell. So it's all been vair vair busy here. (De-cluttering a flat you have lived in for 11 years—longer than you've lived anywhere—plus getting all sorts of maintenance jobs done that you should have had done years ago, is very time consuming!)

Meanwhile, work continues to tick over busily enough, and here's some evidence. It's the rough cut of a video documenting a project the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project (me!) has partnered on since last year. The Penrith Migrant and Refugee Stories project involved students from 5 schools in the Penrith LGA interviewing older residents from refugee and migrant backgrounds. My main involvement in the project was to coordinate and fund (via the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project's budget) workshops led by author/journalist Erin Vincent. Erin's first workshop gave the students guidance on interview techniques, and the second, after the interviews were conducted, gave them a range of approaches to writing up the material they collected during the interviews.

The teachers and the students alike really loved Erin's workshops, and I'm proud that my project was able to contribute to Penrith Migrant Stories in such a practical way. But really, the work came down to the amazing young people, and the adult storytellers, who, with very little by way of preliminary introductions, courageously strode in and sat down and talked to one another, shared their stories.

There will be a book. I edited it, so take this for what you will, but I do think that the stories are remarkable, not just in content, but in style.

In the meantime, here's the video.

Still catching up on blogging this year's Sydney Writers' Festival. Sorry to be so slow, but note, I never finished blogging my UK trip last year, so think yerself lucky, missy!

Anyway, much as I tweeted and then blogged the Sydney Writers' Festival School Days, I also tweeted a panel of Indigenous writers I helped coordinate with my colleagues at the Blacktown Arts Centre.The panel featured Indigenous writers from Australia and Canada, who write across different genres and for a range of audiences. The evening also featured a group of local Darug writers reading their poetry and stories, most for the first time. Please check in at the link for information on the panelists, and here are my tweets:

Getting ready for Sydney
Writers' Festival Indigenous Writers panel.

Welcome to Country from Aunty
Sandra Lee, secretary of Darug Tribal Aboriginal Corporation. #swf2010
Indigenous writers' panel.

Anita Heiss has introduced
panel. First speaker Richard van Camp from Dogrib Nation in Canada, talking
about his heritage. #swf2010

Richard says when he heard
George Littlechild was to ill. his 1st kids' book he fainted. Great artist
shows respect for Indig ppl. #swf2010

Anita asks Boori to talk about
writing memoir Maybe Tomorrow & transition to writing children's books.
#swf2010

Boori tells anecdotes from
school visits as performer, this is where Maybe Tomorrow began. He's hilarious,
of course. And touching. #swf2010

Boori tells story of kid who
saw him take ochre off, get dressed after performance: 'I liked you better as
an Aborigine'. #swf2010

My Girragundji to be a film.
Currently a play at Riverside Theatres Parramatta. #swf2010

Boori discusses collab w
non-Aboriginal writer (Meme McDonald). Gives you reaction to respond to rather
thn looking thr same prism. #swf2010

Cathy Craigie talks about those
who mentored her as a storyteller (family) and her role now mentoring emerging
Aboriginal writers. #swf2010

Cathy talks about love of
reading as a child-Ruth Park, Allan Marshall-but something missing. Looked to
Black US writers, Oodgeroo. #swf2010

Cathy Craigie: Importance of
working with other Aboriginal women. #indigenouswriting #swf2010

Cathy talks abt importance of
Maria Locke story--she's mentoring ML's 4x greatgranddaughter Leanne Tobin in
writing play about ML. #swf2010

Leanne speaks about not knowing
about her Aboriginality growing up. Play has theme of being pale-skinned and
Aboriginal. #swf2010

Leanne says when she tries to
move away from western Sydney she gets sick. Aunties say she's supposed to be
here. She's staying. #swf2010

Leanne telling Maria Locke
story: had her illiterate convict husband indentured to her so she could send
him back. Women like this. #swf2010

Leanne's mum didn't know she
was Aboriginal until she was 58. Her mother kept it secret for protection.
#swf2010

Leanne decided to write Maria
Locke's story as a play to reach more people. I want her to write it as a
children's book. #swf2010

Anita suggests Maria Locke play
could be the Indigenous Cloudstreet. #swf2010

Richard says all 7 publishing
houses he's worked with value his Indigenous voice & encourage him to go
deeper in cultural stuff. #swf2010

Richard: if you want to be a
writer you have to read. Travel. Get yr work out there: try diff journals, mags
etc. #swf2010

Panel talking about finding
your own style and voice. Importance of a love of words, having a story to
share. #swf2010

Just sold a stack of books, now
Darug poets are reading their work. #swf2010

Darug poets reading their work,
some of them for the first time in public. Very moving. #swf2010

O irony: driving home from
Indigenous Writing Panel at Blacktown Arts Centre for #swf2010 @702sydney
played this horror http://bit.ly/bGr9vU

 

This dinner was nearly two weeks ago, so if you haven't heard who won the various categories, go here. The winners of the categories of most interest to Misrule readers are:

Ethel Turner Prize for Young People's Literature
Pamela Rushby, When the Hipchicks Went to War

Patricia
Wrightson Prize for Children's Literature
Allan Baillie, Krakatoa Lighthouse

I'm delighted with both wins: thrilled for old mate Baillie, whose books haven't received so much attention in recent years, and pleased that once again the PLA has thrown up books generally overlooked by the CBCA awards. Read my friend Jonathan Shaw's take on the evening here.

The main news from the evening for me (apart from my own personal statement of courage on finally wearing my green velvet Maid Marion boots* only three years after I bought them) was an announcement made by the Premier of a new Writers' Fellowship program, to be funded by the Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) and administered by the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project. And that would be Me!

(Well, not JUST me of course, although at the moment I am still the only employee on the project, if you don't count my manager and, of course, the fantastic advisory group to the project, headed up by chair Libby Gleeson). 

Anyway, back to the Fellowships. They are to be called the CAL NSW Premier's Western Sydney Literature Fellowships (I think!) and while we are yet to nut out the details of eligibility etc, one thing is decided. Each Fellow will, as part of their "obligation" (I hate that word, can anyone think of a better?), come out and work with young people in greater Western Sydney. So the writers get some financial support towards their writing and the children and young adults of the west will get the opportunity to work with and learn from the Fellows.

I'm so excited about this for a number of reasons. First of all, the fact that an organisation as significant as CAL has approached the Western Sydney Young People's Literature Project to oversee and deliver this Fellowship program is enormous recognition of the work we're doing in the region, and I believe is also going to help position the project as a major cultural—what's the word I'm looking for? Institution? Anyway, you get my meaning.

I'm also pleased because the nature of the Fellowships should also open up the possibilities for programming for WSYPLP. The Fellowships won't just be for established writers for children or young adults (although they will be, of course, entirely eligible), but for all kinds of writers. Journalists, non-fiction, online media—I'm hoping the field will be wide, and as long as they can demonstrate an interest in and capacity to work with young people—well, we could get some really interesting programming opportunities out of it.

I'll be working with the advisory group and CAL over the coming weeks to put together the criteria and hopefully the first Fellowships will happen well before the end of the year. So stay posted!

And now here are my PLA boots. My feet hurt for days!

So as some of you will know, I've become an avid tweeter over the past year, and so I duly—thanks to my beloved iPhone—tweeted as much of this year's Sydney Writers' Festival as I could. Fortunately, I also posted my #swf2010 (that's what's called a hashtag, folks) tweets to my Facebook page, as I have since discovered that some kind of technical hitch involving the fact I have an underscore in my username (misrule_au) means you can no longer search for my tweets. Sucks to be me.

I'm not actually being sarcastic there—I am really upset about my #swf2010 tweets vanishing—I think it's fair to say (and I have done a search to confirm) that had my tweets not vanished, I'd have been in the top 1 or 2 Festival tweeters. And that's not just about statistics—as one of my Twitter friends commented tonight, "How infuriating. You put a lot into those great tweets." I did too, in order to try and bring the experience to people who couldn't be there.

It was a huge week, and I've been exhilarated, energised, thrilled, moved and, frankly, exhausted. In addition to the Premier's Literary Awards Dinner, which kicks off the week on the Monday night, and which I'll blog separately, I attended the opening night party (you've already seen a teaser photo), was MC at 3 of the School Days events, helped coordinate a wonderful panel of Indigenous writers at Blacktown Arts Centre (which I also tweeted and will blog separately), was a mere punter at the Saturday public program at the Wharf, and introduced authors and chaired a panel on the Sunday, which is traditionally (but not exclusively) given over to  children's and youth writers and events.

This post is dedicated to me republishing my tweets from the School Days at Parramatta Riverside Theatre (primary schools: Tuesday 18 May, secondary schools: Wednesday 19 May) and the primary schools day at The Joan Sutherland Performing Arts Centre at Penrith (Thursday 20 May). I'm going to post them largely without comment (although with some photos if I can manage it), as I did from my pozzy as MC backstage, and if something doesn't make sense or requires comment or explication, will leave it to you to respond in the comments.

Here's a list of the writers I refer to in my tweets:

Primary school days' authors:

The witty and smart Brian Falkner (New Zealand) (who learned he won the New Zealand Post Children's Choice Award for Brainjack while he was here in Aus).

Sisters, fabulous double act, and writers of history, fantasy and time travel, Belinda Murrell and Kate Forsyth.

The utterly lovely Leigh Hobbs.

And the ridiculously famous Mr Andy Griffiths.

Secondary school days' authors:

John Danalis and Boori Monty Pryor (on race and reconciliation and breaking and healing hearts)

Melina Marchetta, who needs no...

Anthony "call me Tony" Eaton (try the veal, you've been a fabulous audience...)

and LIVE from the UK, the splendiferous Mr Charlie Higson (aka @monstroso)

Primary school days:

Brian Falkner from NZ has kids
in palm of his hands at Sydney Writers Festival schools day at Parramatta
Riverside Theatres.

Brian Falkner tells kids only
thing they need to tell stories is 2 words: what if? Kids utterly enthralled.
He's funny, fab. @SydWritersFest

Brian Falkner using Little Red
Riding Hood to explain how stories work. Really funny and accessible.

Fantastic questions from kids
in audience. When you write a book do you feel like you are there? Belinda
Murrell and Kate Forsyth #swf2010

Kate and Belinda duel it out....

Leigh Hobbs says if you make up
your own characters they can be funny or sweet or creepy or naughty: it's up to
you, you make rules #swf2010

Andy Griffiths takes the stage:
http://tweetphoto.com/22894848
Kids pretty much beside themselves. #swf2010

Andy and Leigh signing books.
#swf2010 Primary school day, Riverside Theatre, Parramatta

Love looks on kids' faces after
they get book signed. Somewhere between deeply chuffed and a wee bit smug. In a
good way. #swf2010

Secondary school days:

Judith Ridge is MCing the secondary schools day at
Parramatta Riverside Theatres for Sydney Writers'
Festival and it's going to go OFF!

Boori explaining the power and
importance of story and the need to know how to look. Blackfulla story,
whitefulla story. #swf2010

Boori talking about kissing
frogs. Literally. Hehehe. #swf2010

John talking about how we need
to listen and ask questions, learn from indigenous people. We need to share
this country. #swf2010

John: some stories are sacred
and secret but others we must share. #swf2010

Boori notes that tourists don't
come to Australia to see other whitefullas, "they come to see me!" Oldest
living culture #swf2010

What I love about John &
Boori's presentation is they read from each other's books, demonstrating
sharing, listening, learning. #swf2010

John and Boori wrapped in John's possum skin coat.

John Danalis talking about his
parents' painful journey & handover ceremony of Indigenous skull. Could
hear pin drop in audience. #swf2010

Boori lightens tone with
hilarious anecdotes about school visits. Light and shade--perfect. #swf2010

Boori tells story of fly going
up his nose during school performance. Ew! John talks about importance of laughter
to counter anger. #swf2010

Questions from audience are
just fantastic: bold and frank and thoughtful. Q to Boori, what's most
difficult q you've been asked? #swf2010

To Boori: do you take offence
to racist jokes? A: I used to, I'd punch them. But my teachers saved my life.
#swf2010

Boori makes kids tell teachers
they love them, John also pays tribute to teacher who supported him as a writer
as a kid. #swf2010

John: life is story. It's not
just to be read or written, it's to be lived. #swf2010

Oh my, John wrapped me in his
possum cloak as I addressed the audience after their session. I nearly burst
into tears! #swf2010

I can still feel its weight on
my body. So moving. If you haven't read Riding the Black Cockatoo you must:
personal reconciliation. #swf2010

Melina now on, describing her
writers' journey. Alibrandi about 3 things: being a girl living in Sydney going
to Catholic school. #swf2010

Melina says she's good with
character, dialogue, not so good w descriptive language. Challenge writing
fantasy. Use of consonants! #swf2010

Reading fight scene from
Finnikin of the Rock. Writers construct: it's work. #swf2010 #melinamarchetta

But sometimes there's mystery
around process: Melina tells how Piper's Son story came to her. Tom Mackee
spoke to her: 'my story' #swf2010

Melina describes technical
challenge of writing a relationship when characters are in different countries.
#pipersson #swf2010

Melina's refusal to be
"typecast" by Alibrandi, Francesca. #writingfantasy #jellicoeroad
#swf2010

Questions from audience:
favourite place to write? M describes procrastination by #selfgoogling.
#swf2010

@anthonyeaton warming up to
take stage for secondary schools day, #swf2010

Tony has captured kids
immediately. Swearing helps Also, funny! @anthonyeaton #swf2010

Tony describes plot of every
Harry Potter novel, rousing applause from audience. #swf2010 @anthonyeaton

Tony describing eavesdropping
in coffee shops, Ikea. 'Couples fighting over piece of furniture called Cokk'.
Hehe. #swf2010 @anthonyeaton

Tony acting out an ex-student
running late with short story homework. True story, totally hilarious. #swf2010
@anthonyeaton

If Tony ever gives up this
writing lark, he'd have a career in standup. But amongst all the laughs:
serious stuff about writing. #swf2010

Student asking q re writing: he
wrote story about guitar duel bw Van Halen & Chuck Norris. Tony picks up on
'write what you know'. #swf2010

Tony says you have to be open
to ideas in writing and in life. #swf2010 @anthonyeaton

Heavy metal writing student
says he wants to write about vampires. Tony: 'real vampires or sparkly
vampires?' Much hilarity ensues. #swf2010

Charlie Higson now on stage,
positing 'what if?' scenario of his latest book The Enemy: a world without
adults. @monstroso #swf2010

Charlie says girls like
vampires boys like zombies: vampires not sexy & zombies are basically teen
boys. He's joking but it's true. #swf2010

Kids think it's hilarious that
Charlie read his zombie book to sons as bedtime story, gave them nightmares.
Hehe. #swf2010 @monstroso

Charlie Higson: 'Do you want me
to read a scary bit or a gross bit?' Gross wins. (It's also plenty scary.)
#swf2010 @monstroso #theenemy

Oh wow, it really IS gross.
Giggles of disgust from audience. @monstroso #swf2010 #theenemy
@PenguinBooksAus

Q: where did you get idea for
the disgusting parts? A: my boys. #swf2010 @monstroso

And on the third day...

At Joan Sutherland Performing
Arts Centre in Penrith for primary schools day. #swf2010 Kids noisy (in a good
way!) and happy.

Kate Forsyth is telling the
story of the murder of David Rizzio in Mary Queen of Scots' chambers. Kids
enthralled. #swf2010

...to tide you over while I figure out how to copy my tweets over to the blog.

Me, Boori Monty Pryor and Anita Heiss at Sydney Writers' Festival 2010 opening night party.

An opinion piece in today's Sydney Morning
Herald: claims, as per its title, that young people—by which he means university students—have lost the art of reading together. By which I think he (Rick Gekoski, who I've never heard of before now but who is here for Sydney Writers' Festival) means—well, I'm not exactly sure. Here's a quote.
 

"So if we asked a bunch of literate university students today what they had
read, what they had all read - what would be the answer? The answer would
be: nothing. Not a thing. Not that young people don't read, but they
don't read together. They haven't got a common culture - books to devour
and discuss and be formed by.

Gekoski goes on to talk about the "hottest novels and books of poetry, but philosophy, psychology,
feminism, politics and what is now called media studies" that he and his fellow university students read collectively, apparently, in his youth. Unfortunately, though, he doesn't name these shared books, which might have given some insight into not just how they were apparently reading, but what exactly captured their collective interest—but more significantly, he doesn't give any actual evidence for the assertion about today's university undergraduates. He hasn't been a university lecturer, apparently, since 1984, so how in touch is he really with today's students and their social reading habits?

I don't know myself—I'm not in touch with undergraduates myself, but if Gekoski is right, it may be less a personality defect of today's young people and more a reflection, perhaps, of the fact that most of them are too busy working to pay off their HECS debts (or the UK equivalent) and planning a post-university career path in a rapidly-changing working environment (as this article suggests) to have time to sit around deconstructing de Beauvoir, Greer and McLuhan in the union bar. (Woops! Updated to include link to SMH article "No Time for Playtime: University has become little more than a fast-track to a job for
students too busy for a well-rounded education".)

My gut instincts says that at best this is a
baby boomer* lamenting his lost youth passing around Portnoy's Complaint, and at worst a thinly veiled (and uninformed) lament about today's wretched non-reading youth
but maybe I'm being uncharitable. I mean, he does acknowledge the shared reading experiences of young Youff—Potter and Twilight and even Pullman (although for godssakes can't some copyeditor on some broadsheet somewhere please spell Stephenie Meyer's name correctly?!)—but in the context of the rest of the article it seems grudging at best.

But does he have a point? Am I missing it? Oh well, at least it's given me some more material to chat with David and Melina about next Sunday!**

________________________

*Although various definitions attempt to claim me as a baby boomer, I refuse the classification. Born in January 1964, I am too young to be a boomer (missed out on all that hippy-free-love-outa-sight) and yet too old to be Gen X. Lost in the generational hinterland, I suspect!

** Note the subtle way I got a plug in there?