The :: New :: Misrule Blog

Two weeks ago it was Dad's 80th birthday, and today it's Mum's turn. Happy birthday, Mum!

And here's a lovely photo of Mum (Edith) and Dad (Barry) from last year.

I've just got in from the three day biennial CBCA Conference, held this year in Melbourne. (I can hardly believe it's just two years since the Sydney conference—how time does fly!) I'm pretty knackered, so tonight I might not get down everything I want to cover, but here's a start at least.

I flew down to Melbourne on the Thursday before the conference proper began on Friday. I had hoped to make some appointments with publishers, but that all fell through, so I did what any self-respecting Sydney-sider does when they visit Melbourne—I ate lunch in a small, licenced café in one of Melbourne's delightful laneways and then went shopping! (And apart from clothes shopping, I also visited the Sticky Institute shopfront—a place dedicated to zines and personal publishing—and stocked up on some sample publications. It was Work, after all...)

I also met with Mike and Lili from the Centre for Youth Literature (CYL) at the State Library of Victoria on Thursday afternoon, the first time we've had a chance to sit down and chat face-to-face about the Western Sydney young people's literature project. We're all really keen to work together, to develop a network of programs for young readers—it's great to have such supportive colleagues (which also includes CYL's director Paula Kelly, who I met for the first time at the conference, and Lesley Reece from the Fremantle Children's Literature Centre) and I feel completely optimistic about how all our respective programs are going to continue to develop, how much the western Sydney project is going to benefit from the experience of these long-established programs/centres, and how much good-will is out there to nurture and support young readers across Australia. More on that in time...

Then I headed back for the conference opening night reception, where Maurice Saxby launched the facsimile edition of the classic 1952 non-fiction book The Australia Book by Eve Pownall, illustrated by Margaret Senior.

(I interrupt this report to say that the TV series based on Tim Winton's "Lockie Leonard" books has just won the Logie for best children's television. Woo-hoo!)

I guess I should start by saying I missed the opening session on Friday, as I chose instead to go to an event at CYL—a panel called "It's Different for Girls". The panellists were Sue Lawson, JC Burke, Maureen McCarthy and Julia Lawrinson, and the audience was almost entirely made up of young (high-school aged) women (and two young men, who were from time to time warned to stick their fingers in their ears).

It was a terrifically entertaining and at times provocative session, with scenes from books by all four writers performed by members of the St Martin's Youth Theatre (where the Centre had its origins back in the 90s). Each of the writers spoke about writing about girls, about being girls, and it was a wonderful affirmation of the importance of the representation of female experience in books for young readers (female and male—I was sitting behind those two young men in the audience, and I tapped them on the shoulder and suggested that rather than sticking their fingers in their ears when the discussion turned to periods and sex and so on, that they should listen carefully and get some tips—emotional/social insider trading, if you like!).

I had to leave the "It's Different for Girls" panel before I got to hear Maureen McCarthy, because I was keen to get back to the CBCA conference to hear keynote presentations from Professor Jack Zipes and Wendy Cooling—of which more later, because I am beyond tired and not able tonight to properly report on what they had to say, and the context in which they spoke, and I want to give them fair coverage for Misrule readers when I am more awake than I am right now.

So do come back for more detailed reports from your humble conference correspondent in the coming days—more on the various keynotes and panels and concurrent sessions, on the chance to meet up with old friends and new, the pleasingly increased number of uncorrected proofs/advanced reading copies of new books Australian publishers are now making available to folks like us...

Oh, and Neil Gaiman.

And the somewhat tetchy discourse between Jack Zipes and the Bloomsbury publisher of the Harry Potter books.

And the totally fabulous keynote from Shaun Tan.

But I missed my plane home, and I have an event tomorrow, so now to bed. I'll be back!

This is just a pointer to an up-coming event in my western Sydney project: Melina Marchetta will be guest speaker at Blacktown City Library on Monday 5 May. This is a free public event and we'd love to have a tonne of people there, especially young people interested in Melina's books and in writing.

Read about it at the westword blog, where you can download information and a booking sheet for school groups. (It's free, but we need to have some idea of numbers.)

My Dad turned 80 today. 80! It sounds so much older than I can ever think of him. He said to me today that 80 sounds like someone with a walking frame. Dad's a long way from a walking frame—he and Mum (who hits the same milestone two weeks from today) still live in their own home, and are likely to do so for some time.

Here's a photo of Dad (Barry John Ridge) taken by me at Easter at Katoomba Falls. We lived in Katoomba from 1965-1971, and Dad was very happy there (as were we all). This was one of his favourite spots, and he and I braved the rain and mist to take a turn there on Easter Saturday (Mum sensibly stayed at the house and did the cross-word puzzle). It's a lovely photo—and that's an umbrella Dad is holding, not a walking stick!

Happy birthday, Dad! I love you.

As I have mentioned a number of times, I subscribe to various listserves/online discussion groups about children's and YA literature (and I have from time to time wondered why so relatively few Australians pop up on those lists, given our well-documented national enthusiasm for taking up technology...).

Anyway... today I received an email from a woman in the USA on the child_lit listserve who has just read Ursula Dubosarsky's The Red Shoe (she called it "compelling yet sobering", which I thought was a perfect summation), asking me for a.) a recommendation for her next Australian YA read (she has a sister here who can send books to her) and b.) recommendations for online sources of reviews of Australian YA and children's books.

Now, gentle readers, this may come as a surprise to you, but I don't actually read that many Australian review blogs, and I don't do too much reviewing myself these days, so I had to do a bit of research in order to assist my State-side friend (Hi Ginny, if you're reading this...)

I came up with what I think is a respectable list for Ginny, but at the risk of sounding like Column 8, I'd really love to hear from regular Misrule readers regarding where they get their (Australian) reading recommendations from.

These are the sites I suggested to Ginny:

http://www.readplus.com.au

http://cmisevalff.edublogs.org

http://cmiseval.edublogs.org


http://www.slv.vic.gov.au/services/education/youthlit/readalert

http://www.insideadog.com.au


http://betweenthelines.com.au

http://www.aussiereviews.com

Have I missed any important Australian review sites?

You know what to do—leave your comments on the virtual answering machine. Thanks!

I didn't make it to the shortlist announcement today—too busy at work—but it's a most fascinating list. I haven't come across many of these books, so lots of reading ahead. I am interested to see a number of picture books on the Patricia Wrightson prize (the younger of the two children's/youth lit categories)—picture books rarely get a look-in in the Premier's. (The older readers category is the Ethel Turner prize.)

As is often the case, there's very little cross-over with the CBCA awards shortlist. I'm not sure if that's to do with different publication cut-off/eligibility dates for the two awards, but it's always good for the joy to be spread around.

And speaking of which—fabulous to see one of my favourites from last year, James Roy's Town, recognised. Woot woot!

 

Last Wednesday evening I attended the launch of a new imprint for Random House Australia children's books. The imprint, Woolshed Press, is headed up by Leonie Tyle, who was children's publisher at the University of Queensland Press for more than ten years.

Andrew Kelly from Black Dog Books calls Leonie Random's "star recruit", which I believe is a fair assessment—Leonie is highly regarded for her role overseeing UQP's respected (and frequently awarded) children's and YA list, and has formed fiercely loyal relationships with her authors. She tells me she leaves UQP in good shape as she moves on to this genuinely exciting and important development in Australian publishing for children.

The Woolshed Press is modelled on imprints such as David Fickling Books for Random House UK, and will focus on publishing "world class literary titles" that "showcase the best of Australian storytelling". Leonie says that Woolshed Press will "bring together inspirational new voices alongside some of our favourite published authors to build a list that will put the edge back into Australian children's publishing".

I take these quotes from the information brochure for the new imprint, but I genuinely have high hopes for this new list. It's good to have a focused, literary Australian list for young readers under such an experienced hand as Leonie's. Woolshed Press presents as a boutique list, publishing just six books in its first year, with a planned twelve titles per year after that. And the list of authors and illustrators already signed up is impressive:

• James Roy
• Brian Caswell
• Catherine Bateson
• Bill Condon
• Celeste Walters
• Anne Spudvilas
• Anthony Eaton

plus new author Victoria Bowen.

This is not to suggest that other Australian children's publishers don't have a serious commitment to quality, literary publishing, but I do think that it's worth keeping an eye on the Woolshed Press imprint. More photos at my flickr account.

Here's a photo from the launch of Leonie with the godfather of Australian children's literature, Maurice Saxby.

Just FYI, I have updated the westword blog with what I've been up to in the past few weeks in my western Sydney young people's literature project.

And the Children's Book Council of Australia 2008 book of the year shortlists have been announced. Please also check out the Notables list. Some of my favourite older readers books from last year, James Roy's Town, Steven Herrick's Cold Skin and Nick Earls and Rebecca Sparrow's Joel and Cat Set the Record Straight, are notables but did not make the shortlist.

I've actually only read one title on the older readers list—Meme McDonald's beautiful Love Like Water, and one of the younger readers, Odo Hirsch's Amelia Dee and the Peacock Lamp, which I also really liked, so I am now setting about catching up with my 2007 reading.

If you have any thoughts on the shortlist, leave 'em here!

Well, I've had a busy week, and I am featured in an article in today's Sydney Morning Herald, so I hope you'll excuse my hubris!

I'll work backwards. Today's article, in the education section of the paper, is the first major press about my new western Sydney project. It's a lovely article, and the young journalist, Josephine Tovey, did a fantastic job, I think, in fairly representing both the scope of the project and the western Sydney region. I was a bit anxious that I not be seen as some middle class, middle-aged chick sallying forth to bring culture to the poor and huddled masses of the west, and that didn't happen at all.

I've already had a few people contact me in response to the article, interested in finding out more about the project and perhaps working with me, which is great. It's also a really effective summary of a project which is really quite difficult to explain, plus it's made my parents very, very proud indeed.

Thanks, Jo!

(The print version of the article was accompanied by a photo of me with some beaming, mostly Aboriginal, kids from Tregear Public School in Mount Druitt. We all look very happy and it's a lovely image, although it's always confronting to see yourself ten years older and somewhat larger than the picture in your head!)

OK. Let's go back a couple of days.

I attended the ASLA NSW (school librarians') conference on Friday and Saturday wearing several hats (lucky I've got a big head!): as someone interested in the work done in school libraries; as a journalist for the education department (my Thursday and Friday job); as an opportunity to meet with folk working in western Sydney (my Monday-Wednesday job) and as the person invited to launch a new children's book.

The book I launched on Saturday is Samurai Kids: White Crane, the first book in a new series published by Walker Books Australia. It's the first novel by author Sandy Fussell, and features beautiful illustrations by Rhian Nest James.

Samurai Kids is about the Cockroach Ryu (school) of young Samurai warriors, all of whom have a particular challenge to face. Here's a bit from my launch speech:

The narrator, Niya, the “white crane” of the sub-title (it’s his totem) is representative of the members of the Cockroach Ryu, all of whom are unique in a way that sets them apart from the average young Samurai warrior. For Niya, it’s the fact that he only has one leg. Yes—a one-legged Samurai warrior! There’s also Taji, who is blind, Kyoko, an albino girl with extra fingers and toes, and Yoshi, big, strong and able-bodied but who refuses to fight.

And there’s Mikko, formerly of the Dragon Ryu—the Cockroaches greatest rivals—who lost an arm in an act of treachery by his Dragon brothers.

But in case anyone is thinking that the Cockroach Ryu is some kind of charity home for disabled, hear the words of the Cockroach’s Sensei, the great and ancient former warrior Ki-Yaga—so old that he is popularly assumed to be dead. He is speaking to Niya:

“Do you think I chose you because you only had one leg? Foolish boy, I chose the best. I chose each of you because I saw great talent. It is not my problem if there are some other irrelevant parts missing.”

...So here we have a rare thing—a wonderfully satisfying adventure novel, full of action and even some intrigue, that has at the heart of its at times truly thrilling plot some serious philosophical ideas. It’s a book that does not underestimate its audience’s ability to take on some of these bigger ideas.

It's a terrific book, which I think many young readers will thoroughly enjoy. And although it's only just hit the bookshops, according to some teacher-librarians at the conference, it's already being used very successfully in schools.

Here's a photo—me in the middle, Sandy to your left, Rhian to the right:

Friday night I attended the inaugral presentation of the Barbara Jefferis Award, given by the Australian Society of Authors. Barbara Jefferis was a distinguished writer and a tireless advocate for writers' rights. The award is offered annually for “the best novel written by an Australian author that depicts women and girls in a positive way or otherwise empowers the status of women and girls in society” (from the ASA website).

The 2008 winner of the award is Rhyll McMaster for her novel Feather Man. And it was a fun night! I met some great people, and caught up with some old friends. (Although I can't quite come at the hors d'oeuvre on the little spoon thing—I can never find the right angle to get the prawns or whatever into my mouth...!)

And finally back one more night to last Thursday and the launch at Gleebooks of Alyson Simpson's book, Reading Under the Covers: Helping Children Choose Books, published by PETA. The book was launched by Maurice Saxby and Libby Gleeson: here's the photo!

Libby to your left, Alyson in the middle, and dear Maurie to your right.

And with that—good night!

As I was leaving work today, our fabby young admin support guy, Ben, was playing—get this—Boz Scaggs on his computer. So I stopped for a chat and a groove (come on, Boz was pretty groovy in the day!) and it turned out that the CD belonged to Jean, one of our colleagues who is, I suppose, about the same age as my older sister, Linda, who owned a copy of Silk Degrees back when, well, Boz was groovy.

Jean started reminiscing about listening to Boz Scaggs when she was travelling around after finishing her HSC and we talked about how music comes to mean something more than itself when it becomes attached to a certain time in our life.

And then tonight, 20 years after I first heard "Mandinka" and bought a copy of The Lion and the Cobra, I heard Sinead O'Connor in concert.

I didn't take my eyes off her for an hour and a half.

She's tiny, and a little round these days from her four babies, and the top register of voice showed the wear of a year-long concert tour (this was the last concert) but, oh, when she opened her diaphragm and that voice came out... Oh that voice! It filled the State Theatre and it filled me up too.

I have always loved Sinead O'Connor, her contrariness and rage and compassion and feminist faith—and her songs. Her voice.

She started with "The Emperor's New Clothes" and went into "I Am Stretched On Your Grave" and I don't remember what else after that, except she played lots of old songs (some I had forgotten, like "Fire On Babylon") and a few from her new album, Theology (which I bought last week and listened to over Easter). Lots from I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got (which I am playing as I write this)—"The Last Day Of Our Acquaintance" nearly killed me, as it always does (as does "Three Babies", which I hadn't realised was a waltz, which somehow makes it even more sadly beautiful). Oh yeah, and of course she did "Nothing Compares 2 U", which has never been a particular favourite of mine (not compared to "Troy" or "Jackie" or "Mandinka"—which she didn't do, alas—or "Acquaintance"), but it was fabulous live.

She had a wonderful band—the feedback was obviously bothering her at times, but they sounded great most of the time. I hadn't realised how tricky some of her rhythms are until I heard and watched the drummer. The violinist brought that amazing Irish sound to so many songs. I love that. And it was astonishing to me how Sinead would pull away from the mic and her voice was just as full and powerful as if it were still up close.

There was a young Irish couple sitting next to me. I did wonder what they made of the middle-aged single chick grooving away in her seat (you're not allowed to get up and dance in the State Theatre, you see), but what the hell—maybe they didn't really notice.

And then, during the encore, during "Black Boys on Mopeds" to be precise—I was leaning forward and singing along without making a noise, if you know what I mean—the woman of the Irish couple touched my arm and handed me a pair of binoculars. And so I watched Sinead sing the last verse of "Black Boys" close up. And burst into tears.

Me, not Sinead.

It was a little embarrassing, I admit. I did that waving-the-hand-in-front-of-the-face to indicate "sorry, I'm crying!" when I handed the binoculars back and they were so sweet. When the lights came up I was still all damp (well, she finished with a song that was a goodnight prayer for godssakes!) and I turned to them and said "thank you—I've been waiting twenty years for that!" "You looked like you were enjoying it!" they said, which was hilarious because I was in fact this weeping mess. I had to duck my head all the way out of the theatre so as for people not to see me all teary and ridiculous.

I don't know why I got so emotional. It's not even as if I've listened to her all that much in recent years, apart from the new album, but listening to her tonight, live and now at home, I realise how much those songs, her voice, have got into my bones. That voice is so familiar to me—so is that face. Thus the weeping binocular moment! She wore a blue scarf on her head—a bit like an old-fashioned nun, actually—and seeing her face close up, she's still so very beautiful, and so familiar—and in her daggy old jeans and unflattering t-shirt, how "ordinary"!

I guess the thing is when a musician (as opposed to a celebrity) is important to us in some way over the years, and especially one whose life and lyrics have been laid so bare, we do feel like we somehow know them. (I'll talk but you won't listen to me. I know your answer already.)

And how contemporary are the lyrics to "Black Boys", even decades after the Thatcher era:

These are dangerous days
To say what you feel is to dig your own grave
'Remember what I told you
if you were of the world they would love you'

I'm not going to read over this or I'll be too embarrassed to post it!

Here's an interesting media analysis exercise. Let's compare three articles about this year's Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award, won by Sonya Hartnett.

(Please read in full all three articles I link to before leaving any comments—I am very aware that I, by necessity, quote the articles out of context, and I do not want to be guilty of that with which I may charge others in this post...)

Having made that disclaimer—

First of all, an article by Ray Cassin published in the Sydney Morning Herald last Friday. This article kicks off with the statement:

Melbourne novelist Sonya Hartnett has spent most of her career trying to avoid being pigeonholed as a writer of "young adult fiction". But it's likely the label has now well and truly stuck.

The article goes on to talk about Hartnett being tagged as a young adult author, and suggesting she may have lingering resentments at the label.

Hartnett is quoted as saying:

"Despite the fact that the books have always been argued over, as to what sort of books they are, they have always had at least one foot in the 'young adults' field," she said.

"So if someone in that field wants to give me a lot of money, who am I to say that they're not for young adults?"

In the context of the article, it may sound as if Hartnett does indeed resent being considered as a writer of young adult fiction, although I suspect she is instead referring to the difficulty of categorising her work, and the reasonably recent phenomena of "crossover" fiction. (I also suspect that Hartnett's comments were given in response to a question that presumed said "resentment", but I wasn't there so obviously can't know for sure. And I'd be the last person on the planet who would presume to speak on Ms Hartnett's opinions on anything.)

Now, a similar article, with the same lead, by the same writer, in the Melbourne Age. Same comments about pigeon-holes and resentment, but they're not nearly as strongly made (the modifier "lingering" is removed from "resentment") the article quotes her admiration for the previous year's Astrid Lindgren award winner, and the article is more fleshed out by referring to Hartnett's first novel, published when she was sixteen, and the fact that she won the Guardian Children's Fiction Prize in 2002 for Thursday's Child.

(Mind you, it's a bit of a stretch to say that the Guardian prize brought praise in her own country that had previously been denied—Hartnett had been shortlisted and won awards in Australia a number of times prior to the Guardian prize, and anyone involved in children's and youth lit would know how highly regarded she has been here since the publication of Sleeping Dogs in 1995.)

And then there's the uncredited article number three, which hails from the Australian Associated Press. There's no attempt to disassociate Hartnett from the field in which she has made her name. Instead, she's quoted as saying:

"I think they look for people whose work furthers, in some way, the advance of children's literature.

"I really don't know why they chose me except that I guess that my work is a little bit different, and ... no holds barred.

"Whether they thought that's worth acknowledging, I don't know.

"Whatever they thought, I'm glad they thought it.''

A subtle, but significant difference in focus, more to do with a writer's modesty than some kind of ideological positioning regarding audience.

I do try not to be a consiracy theorist, but I am really interested in the differences between the two articles credited to Cassin, especially given the Herald's poor track record on treating young people's literature as commensurate in quality and significance as fiction published for a distinctly and unarguably adult audience. I'm guessing Cassin filed a longer article than either the Herald or The Age ended up publishing—so whose hand guided the edit? Corporate culture or something more deliberate?

Who knows. But I'm asking these questions because I really want to know. It's important to me why my home-town paper can't just say "Yippee! Australian author of books for young readers wins international accolade!" and doesn't simultaneously feel the need to diminish the achievement by suggesting that writing for children and young adults is a lesser calling, something that any serious writer would disassociate themselves from.

Let me finish on a positive note by quoting an article penned by Ms Hartnett herself:

More than this, I believe that the only lastingly important form of writing is writing for children. It is writing that is carried in the reader's heart for a lifetime; it is writing that speaks to the future.

Sonya Hartnett, The Bulletin, March 28 2004

I double-dare you to read this article about one small boy's response to Shaun Tan's The Arrival without going all wobbly at the knees.

(Thanks to Mylee Joseph from the State Library of NSW for alerting me [and the librarians of NSW] to this utterly gorgeous story.)

And speaking of Shaun Tan, and further to my recent post about Nick Stathopoulos being selected as a finalist for the Archibald, Nick is also a finalist in the Moran prize for his portrait of Shaun—and just look at who Shaun is cuddling! (This will only make sense if you've followed the first link in this post...)

Leap Day 2008. Lunch by the harbour. A perfect day for a perfect event to celebrate the perfectly delightful new book The Word Spy!

The Word Spy is a book for kids about language—it's about spoonerisms and spelling, puns and palindromes, tautology and Tom Swifties... It's enormous fun, while also being informative and accessible.

The book had its origins in columns about language the author, Ursula Dubosarsky wrote when she and I and the book's illustrator, Tohby Riddle, all worked together at the NSW School Magazine, so it's completely fitting that Tohby illustrated the book version. His illustrations, cartoons and dinkuses (dinkis?) hit exactly the right tone for the book—curious and slightly eccentric—and his trademark use of old printers' typographical blocks (I hope that's the right—or right enough—name) echo the book's survey of the history and development of language from the first alphabet through the invention of printing to modern forms of language such as SMS, netspeak and smilies. (I'd have spelt them "smileys", but there you go! )

Like I said, the book is great fun, but it's also a terrific resource/reference. And a great book to dip in and out of on the loo—but maybe that's just me!

Here's a photo of lovely Ursula with her beautiful book. (How nice to have a hardback—and it's just a really beautiful production in every way—congratulations Penguin!) You can see more photos from the lunch at my flickr account.

I'm excited—my old friend Nick Stathopoulos has been selected for the 2008 Archibald Prize! Nick's portrait is of the esteemed movie critic David Stratton—snoozing in the cinema.

Nick, who is an award-winning science fiction illustrator, and has also illustrated many book covers, including for books by Terry Dowling and John Marsden. He was previously selected for the Archibald for his portrait of Mr Squiggle and his creator, Norman Hetherington.

Nick's sister Henrietta is one of my great friends from our university days—she's currently directing a production of Summer of the Seventeenth Doll for Chalkdust Theatre at the Parramatta Riverside Theatres. What a clever pair!

A member of the Diana Wynne Jones listserve, Gili Bar-Hillel, translates childrens books into Hebrew. She alerted us on the list today to her blog, on which she's posted illustrations from a forth-coming Hebrew edition of Eva Ibbotson's Journey to the River Sea. The illustrations are by a young woman called Keren Taggar, and I think you'll agree they are exquisite.

While I was googling for the book, I discovered that there is a play of Journey to the River Sea. How wonderful! I do hope an Australian theatre company takes it up for production, but with the current gloomy prospects for arts funding, I won't be holding my breath.