The Breaking is a fast-paced love story centred around the intense bond between two young women. Which came first: your marvellous characters Deven and Hannah or telling a story that might help halt the suffering of elephants in Thailand?
I had recently returned from a trip to Thailand and Deven and Hannah just showed up on the page. They were such a joy to write and at first, I didn’t even realise that elephants would be part of the story. In retrospect it seems obvious that I would write about elephants and the situation in Thailand given my experiences, but it wasn’t the impetus behind the book. And I actually think that’s important. I didn’t write an issues-driven book. I wrote about the magnetic bond between two women and the complexity of the world they find themselves in.

How much “elephant hell”, as Hannah calls it, have you seen firsthand?
Many details are drawn from my own observations but I also undertook extensive research. I wish I could say that Pang Tong’s experience working 10 hours a day with a five-kilogram saddle on her back is unusual, but this is the norm for elephants required to give rides. Humans often see animals as inferior beings, but every animal has their own story. In some ways this novel is a voice for elephants. They are hugely intelligent creatures who we subject to enormous suffering in the name of entertainment.

How hard was it to witness this cruelty and weave it into the narrative?
It was shocking and incredibly hard to witness, especially when tourists were oblivious to what was happening right in front of them. I have never witnessed the phajaan, the brutal breaking process that every elephant goes through at the age of about two, not just in Thailand but around the world. So I forced myself to watch videos, and I just wept through them.

I wanted to use a light touch when weaving the cruelty through the narrative. It needs to be bearable for the reader. Ultimately, I wanted the book to be like life – filled with both dark and the light, with sadness and joy, and everything in between. So that the ride is an enjoyable one.

Deven and Hannah’s backgrounds, personalities and sexual ethics are very different and it causes some ups and downs in their relationship. How did you discover the right tone and intensity for their story?
It was something that I worked very hard on, trying to strike the right note, and get the balance right during each part of the narrative. During the redrafting process it was the nuances of their changing relationship within the narrative arc that required the most attention.

You imbue many of the elephants in the novel with a character and a back story. Why is this important? How much of this detail is drawn from on your own work on projects that rescue elephants from the tourism and logging industries in Chiang Mai, Surin and Kanchanaburi?
The details are really what brings a book to life and on my trips to Thailand I always kept a journal. In it I recorded every tiny detail of the place, paying particular attention to the sounds and smells and taste. It might be the feel of an elephant’s flyswat-like tail or the jagged freckled edge of its ear. This is what brings a place to life in fiction, and I constantly returned to these journals during the writing process. I also obsessively took photos and videos. They weren’t the kind you’d share with friends, but they became instrumental when I was back in Australia. They immediately returned me to the feel of what it was like to be in Thailand with the elephants.

Which elephant in the novel is your favourite, and why?
If I had to pick one it would have to be Bua Khao (whose name means “white lotus”). She is blind in both eyes from being slingshotted by her mahout on two occasions when she wouldn’t comply. This happens more than it should, and several of the elephants at the sanctuary where I worked were blind in one or both eyes. Deven and Hannah rescue Bua Khao and she becomes pivotal in their story. There were many moments writing about Bua Khao that moved me.

Deven’s special affection for the elephants mirror your own feelings. What sparked your passion?
When I was 8, my parents took my brother and me to a circus. We had our photograph taken with an elephant, and as I stood beside this enormous creature – feeling a little nervous and a lot awestruck – her trunk brushed briefly against my cheek. It was corrugated but gentle, and I fell in love. Later in life I realised that if I genuinely loved elephants I couldn’t in good conscience ride one. That was the point at which my volunteering with elephants in Thailand began.

Hannah says she’d imagined one elephant’s owner “as a picture of evil. But he was just a man, with a family.” If the choice is safeguarding a livelihood or an elephant’s wellbeing, where should the line be drawn?
This is such an excellent question and, in many ways, it is what propelled me forward in writing the book. Unfortunately, there are no easy answers. There is so much grey involved. For many people in Thailand their elephants may be the only way of them earning a living. The elephant suffers, but without the elephant earning income the people suffer. That’s why ecotourism is so important.

I think about the welfare of elephants as being on a spectrum, with the opposite ends being the abuse elephants suffer daily in the tourism industry and the freedom of living wild. In the middle there are all kinds of scenarios which are not ideal, but are better than the worst. So ecotourism means that the Thai people can earn an income without their elephants experiencing abuse. The Save Elephant Foundation manages many of these projects. They are very special experiences for tourists and they don’t physically harm the elephants. However, it’s always worth remembering that the only reason that we can get close to these animals is because they have been “broken”.

Why aren’t more Australians aware of the harm they’re inflicting when they ride elephants and watch them perform in circuses? What more can be done to educate people?
I wish I knew the answer to that. I have found that almost everyone I speak to has no idea about what happens behind the scenes in elephant tourism. Yet if you google “elephant rides” all the top hits are articles about why you shouldn’t ride an elephant. I hope that books like mine will start conversations. The more these issues are discussed, the more awareness will grow and the tourism culture will change. And I do think that fiction has an important role to play because it allows readers to walk in the characters’ shoes – seeing and feeling what they do. Fiction creates empathy like no other written form, and explores the messiness of our world in all its complexity.

 “‘If you softened it a bit they’d be more likely to listen.’ But would they?”– Have you found some ways are better than others to get people to listen to what is happening to the elephants in Thailand?
Deven can be very brash and doesn’t pull any punches so sometimes she rubs people up the wrong way – it’s part of what made her such a fun character to write. But actually, I’ve found most people are really responsive. They’re shocked to learn about the reality for elephants, especially if they’ve ridden an elephant in the past. Only rarely do people who’ve engaged in elephant tourism claim that there was no evidence of abuse and the elephant looked perfectly happy. When you spend a lot of time with elephants, it’s blatantly obvious that these elephants are not happy. Elephants are normally so vocal and expressive, but captive elephants make little sound and their body language expresses their trauma. In any case, I’ve only come across a few people like this. Most people are willing to listen.

You say in the book that there were once 100,000 elephants in Thailand. What are their numbers today? And why have the numbers diminished?
Estimations vary significantly but there are around 2–3,000 elephants living in the wild and a similar number in captivity. The main reason for the massive decrease in numbers is that urbanisation and agricultural expansion has shrunk habitats. Sadly, this is leading to conflict between wild elephants and humans.

Where should tourists head to once Covid restrictions ease if they want to encounter elephants but not harm them?
Any of the Save Elephant Foundation projects in Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia are a safe bet. And you’ll also have a much richer experience than riding an elephant. But founder Lek Chailert has also worked with many projects to convert them to her ethical model, so it is best to do your research before you go. Be aware that many places now use the word “sanctuary” in their name when they are anything but (so don’t visit if they offer rides, performances, petting of separated calves or use bullhooks).

What is the way forward for a place like Thailand?
We need to protect the environment so that the elephant population doesn’t diminish further. For those elephants in captivity, some can be returned to the wild but most can’t. They have experienced major trauma and many of them never heal. The best that can be hoped for for these elephants is that they are allowed to live on a sanctuary in peace.

The crux of it all is that if all tourists demanded eco-friendly interactions with elephants the situation in Thailand – and other countries like India – would change. The current situation only exists because the demand from tourists is there. In other words, the onus is on us to make ethical choices.

You are an Ambassador for Thailand’s Save Elephant Foundation. What does the foundation do, and why is it important that people volunteer, donate and/or sponsor an elephant?
The foundation runs a range of projects which offer tourists different ethical experiences where they can get close to elephants. Founder Lek Chailert is constantly rescuing elephants and advocating for change in the industry to safeguard their wellbeing. She is an unstoppable force and one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. But rescuing elephants costs significant amounts of money, and more land is needed to provide these elephants with sanctuary. Every dollar counts, as they say.

You are co-host of the Secrets from the Green Room podcast with Craig Cormick. Can you recommend an episode that shows another Australian writer who explores ethical issues through their stories and/or novel(s)?
In episode 4 Karen Viggers talks about the way she weaves issues relating to animals and the environment into her novels, and in episode 5 James Bradley talks about how he tackles big issues like climate change. Both episodes are well worth a listen for writers who are interested in addressing the real issues of our time through fiction.

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The Breaking by Irma Gold (MidnightSun, $29.99). Irma is an Ambassador for the Save Elephant Foundation.

This interview was originally published in the March 2021 issue of the South Sydney Herald.

You have said that Bindi in many ways is autobiographical. What are one or two parallels between your life and hers?

I was raised on Gundungurra lands, and had the joy of bushwalking, riding horses, playing hockey and being connected to a delightful community like Bindi.

The wisdom of Elders, and lessons in planting trees and learning language came later in life for me. I wanted to create a character that interwove those spaces. I wanted her to navigate some of today’s environmental and cultural complexities from a child’s perspective, with grace.

Bindi’s story is written in Gundungurra and English? Why is this important?

Bindi lives on Gundungurra Country and speaks the language of the land she’s raised on. This is important because it means Bindi is able to connect with Country, by speaking the language of that land. I love teaching and learning language, particularly First Nations languages and I really wanted to incorporate the language I’ve learnt so much from, Gundungurra, in my writing. 

Can you tell us about Gundungurra Country where the novel is set?

Gundungurra land spans the Blue Mountains through the Burragorang Valley, to Goulburn. It’s mountainous, and lushly green. The gum trees tower over rivers and creeks, and lyrebirds scratch around the water ways. There are caves shaped by Dreaming spirits and waterfalls that flow through rain forests and farms for raspberries and grapes. It’s magical.

I love most that I got to grow up with Gundungurra bush land and birds and that it made me want to always adventure in natural spaces.

What made you choose to write Bindi’s story as a ‘verse’ novel?

I wanted to create a narrative that was accessible and experimental.  I love poetry and wanted to welcome young readers into alternative ways to tell stories.

There’s a horse ride and a hockey match you write in visually and rhythmically arresting verse, the meaning enhanced by how the letters and words appear on the page. Were these poems fun to write? How do junior readers respond to this kind of poetry?

So much fun to write, especially the poems that mirror the actions of that part of the story visually. I liked the idea of including letters and visual poems (accompanied by Dub’s illustrations) to welcome readers into Bindi’s world and experiences. Junior readers and their teachers have been really supportive of Bindi.

When I was Bindi’s age, I wasn’t a largely confident reader, so I wanted to include all readers when shaping this story, and welcome all of them in.

Bindi has a light but serious flavour. How did you strike this balance?

I think our young readers are capable of grappling with big ideas, and I wanted to offer them solace as we explored them. When I find it hard to strike the balance, I write the piece in three different versions, and sit with the one that articulates the direction or tone I was hoping for.

The book is beautiful in all senses. What was it like to collaborate with illustrator Dub Leffler (descendent of the Bigambul people) on the project?

Dub is a magician, I’m so in awe of his creative ability and all round earth-loving ways. Dub and I met when I was just beginning, after The Incredible Freedom Machines hit the shelves. I remember watching him create and being captivated by his work. I feel so lucky to have had him work on Bindi. The synergy between his charcoal illustrations and the poems about the landscape and fire is a blessing to witness.

Bindi grew from your 2019 Daisy Utemorrah Award winning picture book Mother Speaks. What made you want to rework the story in the wake of Australia’s devastating bushfires in late 2019 and early 2020?

I was partway through the original manuscript when the bush fires broke out on Gundungurra Country and Dad called. It reminded me of growing up on Gundungurra land, and having fires approach. I wanted to explore the emotions attached to fire, and to honour the communities affected by them. I also wanted to lean into First Nations care for Country, and to welcome young people into discussions about traditional fire keeping.

The book raises a number of important issues, including but not limited to climate change, traditional fire management to help prevent devastating bushfires, and Indigenous children who are taken from their birthparents (as Bindi’s mother was). What makes you confident 11-year-olds and other junior readers are ready to handle these issues and respond to your call to action?

I’m a teacher originally, I’ve worked in early childhood, primary, secondary and beyond. I’m in awe of the students I’ve been able to teach. Witnessing them navigate eco-anxiety, outlive bushfires, and continually survive repeated trauma made me feel as though we need stories that acknowledge their experiences with heart.

I hope Bindi does a little of that. I hope it offers a safe place to explore some of those thoughts, feelings or hopes with care and that young people find some joy too wrapped up in her adventures.

Through Bindi’s story you hope to bring young people into the role of being Custodians and caring for Mother Earth. What is one thing you’d like anyone, young or old, to do for the land and to protect its sacred sites?

The land, sea, waterways and skies are all sacred. And we’re not separate from them. Every action or inaction we take impacts Earth. One thing I’d encourage, is this awareness – of the interrelation of all things and the need for radical responsibility to act in alignment with The Earth, and to honour her.

Tell us about the Glossies in the Mist project, its work to protect the Glossy Black Cockatoo and how the team helped you with the book?

I worked with the Glossies in the Mist team to lead Red Room Poetry, Poetry in First Languages workshops on Gundungurra Country. These sessions had students create poetry with Gundungurra language about the Glossy Black Cockatoo. They also learnt about how to care for her, while planting trees to ensure her habitat remained flourishing. We will be leading lessons again in March!

This program largely impacted the shape of Bindi, and allowed me to understand more about local threatened species. I feel so grateful to the dedicated team who support the ongoing conservation of the Glossy Black Cockatoo.

Magabala Books loves Bindi so much they have asked you to write a series. Can you give us a glimpse of what’s next for our spirited protagonist?

I can’t wait to write again with the talented team at Magabala. You can expect more eco-activism, more creation and more adventures on Country with Bindi and her friends – I don’t want to give too much away! 

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Bindi by Kirli Saunders and illustrated by Dub Leffler, is published by Magabala Books, $16.99.

This interview was first published in the March 2021 issue of the South Sydney Herald.

Its 20 stories sound the depths of human experience—and yield more treasure with each reading. Themes of entrapment, hubris, wreckage, failure, suffering and desire are explored with insight. There’s also a wry playfulness at work. As Michael says in the essay that accompanies his new collection, ‘After the unresolved stories of suffering of the first half of the collection, and the introductory transition of “Sisyphus”, the second half offers increasing relief and transcendence.’

My Life & Other Fictions will be launched by Spineless Wonders in early December. In this Q&A, which is part of the official blog tour, Michael talks about his fascination with Ned Kelly and other underdogs, the benefits of fallow periods when you’re writing a story, the challenges of crossing the Simpson Desert on foot, yoga, satire, and crafting first sentences that give readers  ‘a hard slap’.

How did crossing the Simpson Desert, solo and on foot pulling a cart weighing up to 170 kilograms for 24 days in July 2008, turn you into a writer? What happened out there?

I could say that I had a mystical visitation out there on my own in the desert. There was no one else there to confirm or deny that claim. But I wasn’t visited by a flurry of lights. No eagle’s wing brushed my cowlick. And no devil met me at midnight amid the spinifex and sand ridges. What did happen was the daily expression of doubt and hope, only to be shattered again by another day of physical, mental and emotional bloody-minded slog. Doubt and hope in unequal measure. Day after day after day. Until what originally seemed possible (even if only remotely possible) in theory became probable.

What was I doing out there? I was attempting to do something that no one had ever done before, something that had never been attempted before (or since)—an unsupported east-to-west traverse of the Simpson Desert; something that other desert adventurers thought was impossible, that I was embarking on a fool’s quest that would end in absolute failure. I doubted myself almost every step of the way, but if I never thought it was possible to make it I never would have started, I never would have spent nine months preparing for it. And then, when all that effort comes to a successful conclusion, well, then maybe anything is possible.

I lost something out there and, when you lose something, you gain the space for something else to fill the void.

Is there still a strong connection for you between walking and writing? If so, where do you mostly walk now, and how does it fuel your creativity?

I am an embodiment of Alberto Giacometti’s (no relation that I can determine) famous L’Homme qui marche (The striding man). Walking defines me as a human being and, if I could not walk, I would not be alive.

Walking (anywhere, but preferably in the mountains, deserts, natural places well away from obvious human intervention) allows my mind to wander and process at its own (slow) pace in a way that cycling and other forms of self-propulsion don’t. Walking allows things to come up and be forgotten again, only to come up some later time in a slightly altered form, maybe. I don’t capture these walking thoughts and inspirations as I walk. Instead, I allow my silence, and the sounds of the bush and my passage through it, to be the witness.

You have been described as a brave writer, and it’s a perception this collection reinforces through stories like ‘The Unnameable’, ‘my abbr.d life’ and ‘At Failure Creek’. What gives you the courage to broach hard topics and write stories inspired by Australia’s ‘fearsome interior’?

Other’s perceptions of us are often different to our own view of ourselves. The perception of being a ‘brave’ writer is not intentional—it is not something I actively cultivate. I don’t sit at my desk and think I must write a story about an abused and deceased Aboriginal girl. I do, however, think that cultural icons need to be challenged and, in so doing, readers need to be challenged too. This means that nothing is off limits as subject matter or character or point of view.

The ‘fearsome interior’ or ‘dead heart’ is a myth invented and propagated by European-Australians who thought that the Aboriginal people were stone age relics little removed from the flora and fauna, that it was a place where no man (or no ‘civilised’ man) could survive, let alone choose to live there exclusively. It is a place where that hypocrisy can be explored and exploded.

‘The Hangman and the Hanged Man’ is a chilling story with an eerie voice and ending. Where did your fascination with Ned Kelly come from and are you finished with him yet?

Kelly is someone that I would probably not be friends with if I lived during his time, but he is someone that I have, as far as I can remember, been fascinated with. The anti-hero. The underdog. The rebel. I have not finished with him, nor him and his proteges with me. He is the silhouette that my next full-length writing project will study in a novel in stories.

Desire, fate, unbreakable cycles and transcendence … many of your characters are either caught in cycles of suffering or are attempting to break free from them. Do you think of these stories as having a moral purpose—perhaps as revelations or warnings to others? Was writing the stories part of your spiritual practice? If so, can you tell us more?

Whether the stories have a moral purpose, well, that is for others to interpret. But I am not displeased with them being read that way, as exegesis: history, allegory, moral, and prophecy. Just like a gospel. Or apocrypha.

The writing of the stories was not part of my direct spiritual practice, but spirituality and religion inform them strongly. In a way, everything we think and everything we do in life is part of our spiritual practice (whether we intend it to be so, or acknowledge that it is so). And some of the final redrafting of the manuscript and drafting of the essay was done as (or in lieu of) Karma yoga— the yoga of conscious action— at Rocklyn Yoga Ashram near Daylesford, Victoria, in December 2016.

‘The Uncoupling of Eduardo Martinez’ is an amazing story—and perhaps my favourite. It features fathers and sons with the same name doing the same job, generation after generation, for the railway. Eduardo is ‘uncoupled’ from this history through an accident. His son bears his name and works for the railway, although he does ‘a new task’. What makes it so hard to free ourselves from certain cycles of entrapment—especially familial ones?

Familiarity. Comfort. Proximity. Our parents will always see us in part as their baby or child, just as our siblings retain vivid memories of us when we were all children and teens. Despite growing up, leaving home, travelling overseas, perhaps making a family of our own, our family holds us to be what we were and do not easily recognise or accept the transcendent part of us like they would with a stranger. Too many years of karmas and samskaras. Maybe that’s one reason why my partner and I have not lived in the same city as our parents and siblings for close to twenty years. We are free to define and redefine ourselves without the shackles of what we once were.

In ‘undersize’, a boy and his father go fishing, and it’s a short but insightful story. It was written when a disgruntled boy narrator spoke to you and you took dictation, but then you cut him off short to finish the story for a deadline. Later, in rewriting, the boy whispered the words you’d refused to listen to before. How do these ‘channelled’ stories differ from the kind you write over a longer period, shuffling the jigsaw pieces to make a whole? Which process do you trust or enjoy most?

I don’t differentiate between the so-called ‘channelled’ stories and the ‘jigsaw pieces’ stories, because developmental methods overlap and interrelate. The narrator is me and at the same time also not me. The jigsaw pieces themselves, the fragments of narrative or inspiration, where do they come from if they are not channelled? They come when they come.

I followed your essay suggestion to listen to ‘Misere mei, Domine’ sung by the Tallis Scholars as I read ‘Ulysses of the Pacific’, and I felt the music open your marvellous, seafaring tale to me in ways it hadn’t before. How did the music inspire you or support you as you wrote the story? What makes you confident that readers will encounter the magic released through the pairing of your words with Allegri’s music (and the psalm it illuminates)?

This is a case of the strange and previously unknown paths that wide-eyed research can lead me down. I had never heard the Miserere being sung before re-reading Dante’s Purgatorio. Music is an important part of my cultural landscape. And music unlocks and makes connections in our brains so much quicker and easier than mere words on a page. The psalms as used in the story become an aural soundtrack.

Imagine it like a talking book. It is magic! I listened to the Miserere many times on repeat as I wrote the final part of the ‘Ulysses of the Pacific’, and I am listening to it again as I respond to this question. That final line, the ‘tunc imponent …’ gives me goosebumps every time. I can’t see how anyone who listens to this piece while reading the story could not be affected in some way— it is that powerful.

What role does satire play in My Life & Other Fictions?

More than I intended and less than readers think … or vice versa. It has its place—and more so in some stories, such as ‘At Gallery cV3’ and ‘Revelations of Leonardo’—just as black humour is endemic throughout. Satire and black humour lighten some of the heaviness of the themes and characters and situations.

Which story do you never get asked about but you wish you did? Why?

Or the question could be: Which story do you always get asked about but you wish you didn’t?

The stories are so diverse in tone and voice and situation that each receives some attention somewhere. But to answer a different question altogether, I think that ‘The uncoupling of Eduardo Martinez’ is the most representative story thematically in the collection.

You wrote in Cracking the Spine: ten short Australian stories and how they were written (Spineless Wonders 2014) that the first sentence of any story should be ‘a cattle prod. A hard slap.’ Two of my favourite first lines from this collection are My ma is a self-mutilating alcoholic (from ‘my abbr.d life’) and Last month, sometime and somewhere between leaving for work in the early morning and arriving home in the gathering sunset the Minister for Lost went missing (from ‘Minister for Lost’). Can you choose another first sentence you like from this collection, and tell ABBW readers how it came to you and why you like it?

Sir, a bony finger tapped in Morse on the back of his hand (from ‘The Unnameable’).

It starts with an action, and an anticipated response. For the reader it is a macro visual scene but, for the two characters, it involves entirely another sense: touch; and it also implies by the use of Morse code a lack of sight, and possibly a need for silence. We soon learn that one of those two men is blind, yet it is implied in that first sentence.

I wanted to rely more on non-visual descriptions for the blind man, so what he experiences is told through what he hears and smells and touches. By beginning the story by using the sensory capabilities in a non-visual way, it prepares the reader for a story that is in part concerned with altered forms of communicating, reading and interpreting.

I have never learnt Morse code so I am not sure where that came from, but I began to develop that story in Tennant Creek (Northern Territory) and part of the history of that place is the Overland Telegraph Line (between Adelaide and Darwin) repeating station seven miles north of town.

Some of these stories had long gestation periods. How easy or hard is it to let stories lie fallow? What purpose does this fallow period serve? What improves with time?

I might not be the best judge of when a story or poem that I write is completed. For example, ‘The Hangman and the Hanged Man’ was first conceived in 2002. It has been altered and finished and sent out to competitions or publishers eight times, and has had two name changes.

This is a different form of fallow period to one that is used to update an unfinished draft of a story, but it is just as indicative. When is a story finished? And how does it change with the iterations of time? How would Walt Whitman respond to these with regard to his Leaves of Grass that grew from a slim volume of poetry on first release to a massive tome by his death?

What changes with time? Attachment (or more precisely, detachment) and objectivity.

I tend to not be personally attached to phrases or aspects of the text, and I may discover bits that need improving because I see it more objectively, like I am reading something written by somebody else. I can also be surprised by what I have written, and wonder where did ‘that bit’ come from, and be affected by the power of the prose. That is important to me. To be affected, even after many years and many rewrites and amendments.

In your essay ‘Reflections of Shadows’ in My Life & Other Fictions you write: ‘I don’t know why in Australia we have to make such a distinction based on word count—American stories do not suffer from this same handicap; in fact length is encouraged, expected.’ What can Australian writers do to encourage Australian publishers to give space to longer short stories?

I don’t know if writers can do much about the situation except write stories to the length and form that each story requires, whether that is 2,000 words or 12,000 words. It is more up to literary journals and short story competitions that limit word counts for submissions to 2,000 or 3,000 words to expand their criteria. We focus on the short and not the story. And the term ‘long short story’ for those behemoths of 5,000 words or more doesn’t help. They are all stories. Just stories.

At the end of the essay you urge the reader to go back and read your stories again because the narratives ‘should shimmer with a somewhat altered appearance’. You are a repeat reader yourself. Tell us about one story you’ve reread in 2017 that altered and shimmered with rereading.

For me, the literary discovery of 2017 was Yuri Herrera’s Signs preceding the end of the world translated by Lisa Dillman. I read it in, maybe, February and again a couple of months later after listening to a podcast interview with Herrera recorded at Adelaide Writers Week. Had it altered in the second reading? It was still astonishing.

I have heard Richard Flanagan say that he rereads books such as Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina ever second year. There is something to be gained by rereading, by being able to go deeper into a story when you already know how it will end.

There is so much time and effort that goes into the writing of stories, so much more than the writing of a song. And yet people will listen to a song many, many times. You hear people say ‘I read that’ but you don’t hear them say, ‘I read it again and again, I finished it and went straight back to the beginning and started reading it again.’ If they did, you’d think they were a little obsessive. But a song? Put it on repeat. Sing along.

My Life and Other Fictions
Michael Giacometti
Spineless Wonders, $24.99 pre-release discount
$27.99 normal RRP

Angela says weekends spent at her family’s rainforest block in Kincumber on the Central Coast when she was growing up sharpened her appreciation of the natural world. Her school holiday visits to, and work experience at, the Australian Museum in College Street, Sydney, also gave her endless hours of pleasure with its minerals, insects, birds of paradise, and ‘skeletons of every imaginable creature’.

Born in Sydney, Angela started her career as a landscape architect after graduating from University of NSW in 1990. Her interest in fine art and botany led her to complete a Postgraduate Diploma in Visual Art (Plant and Wildlife Illustration) at Newcastle University in 1995. Angela has been painting and exhibiting since 2002, and her work is found in international collections.

In 2012 she was awarded a Silver-gilt Medal at the RHS London Botanical Art Show, and in 2014 she won the Celia Rosser Medal for Excellence in Botanic Art in Melbourne. She paints full time and teaches at the Royal Botanic Garden, Sydney, as well as serving on the committee of the Florilegium Society.

I interviewed Angela this month for a story about her Gymea lily painting and Botanica for the South Sydney Herald. I also asked her what she’s been reading …

Quiet by Susan Cain

I’m reading a book that a friend loaned me called Quiet, which is about living as an introvert in an extroverted world, and it’s quite interesting. I’ve definitely decided that I’m an introvert—but it has yet to convince me that introverts are valued. Still, I haven’t got through it very far—so, we’ll see.

The Good People by Hannah Kent

I like Australian literature—authors like Tim Winton and Hannah Kent. I’ve read Hannah Kent’s two novels. I didn’t enjoy the Irish one (The Good People) as much as Burial Rites. I think she overworked the superstition elements a bit. Despite this, it did give an interesting insight into some of the things people believed in that place and time.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

With Burial Rights I felt like I was in Iceland, freezing cold, in a cottage with clods of earth falling on me. It was fantastic. The novel tells the story of a woman in northern Iceland in 1829 who has been condemned for her part in the murder of two men. You learn more about her and her precarious situation as the execution draws closer. I really liked it!

Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier

One book I really loved reading a few years ago was Remarkable Creatures. It is by the same author that wrote The Girl with the Pearl Earring. It’s amazing. It’s based on a true account, and it’s all about natural history. It centres on the story of Mary Anning who was the daughter of a carpenter, and whose father died. She was poor and lived on the Jurassic Coast. She used to pick out the ammonites from the sea cliffs and sell them to tourists. She discovered the first fossil of the dinosaur that emerged from the sea. She found this incredible fossil that was 10-foot long—or something like that. The novel offers insights into how women were not really given any credit for anything back then. Women weren’t even allowed to be in lecture theatres or to go to scientific lectures. So these wealthy naturalists came and purchased the fossils she’d found for a pittance and then claimed them as their own finds. Thankfully, that large and significant fossil is now in the British Museum, and it is attributed to her, so she finally got her recognition. It’s a fascinating story.

The Paper Garden by Molly Peacock

The Painted Garden is about a woman called Mary Delany who, after her second husband died, created mixed-media collages of botanical specimens. I actually went and looked at some of her works in the British Museum. What I thought when I saw them was how contemporary she was—how prolific. She completed almost a thousand works of botanically correct cut-paper flowers in the last years of her life— from age 72. That [full-colour image in the book] is such a contemporary piece. It’s so striking. I had an interest in it. I actually saw this piece in the British museum, and she does a lot of her collage on black paper. This detail here [points] was actually a bit of a leaf skeleton.

The Florilegium by The Florilegium Society of RBGS

I helped to produce The Florilegium book, which contains work by botanical artists from all over the world. The book illustrates the first plant introductions to The Royal Botanic Garden, Sydney (RBGS) right through to the most recent introductions to celebrate the RBGS’s 200-year anniversary in 2016.

The Florilegium Society at the RBGS was formed to create the florilegium, a collection of contemporary botanical paintings of some of the most significant plants in the living collections of the Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain Trust. The collection was exhibited at the Museum of Sydney last year. Sydney Living Museums made a video of me talking about the art of botanical illustration and what I enjoyed about painting the Norfolk Island Pine for the exhibition.

Beverley Allen, whose work was also in Botanica with mine this year, painted the Wollemi Pine—and a detail from this artwork appears on the cover. She’s the president of the Florilegium Committee and I’m the treasurer.

If I was only allowed to paint one species for the rest of my life it would be the Firewheel Tree, Stenocarpus sinuatus. It’s sculpturally and structurally so interesting and so alien looking. It’s also a native, which I really like. I do tend to go for more rainforesty type trees. I’ve painted it about five times—and one of these paintings appears in this book. I never get sick of the Firewheel Tree. I love it. I could paint it over and over again. Plus it’s easy to find material because they use them for street trees around Sydney.

The Florilegium exhibition will be travelling to Kew Gardens in London next year. It’s great exposure for Australia and the Botanic Gardens. We’re also working on an exhibition relating to the Banks and Solander collection for 2020.

Working on The Florilegium book, I learned a lot about book publishing. I also learned a lot about the international artists involved. I got biographical information from the 65 artists and had to edit their contributions back to 300 words to make them consistent.

All the artists in The Florilegium donated their paintings. So when you think about all the hundreds of hours that are in that book it’s amazing. Yes, you do it for love. Definitely.

Why in 2017 should people turn to the drawing rooms of Regency England for wise advice?

Although Jane Austen’s novels are set in another era, their universal themes of happiness, friendship, love, marriage and money are timeless. Jane Austen was a great observer of human nature and human relationships and these haven’t changed much throughout the centuries. Most people still worry about finding love and making a good marriage. Many people still discuss property values and judge others on money and social status; and we all know people who are dishonest, cheat their relatives of an inheritance and otherwise act in very silly ways.

It is also the language, which Jane Austen uses to deliver her advice, that hooks us in. She doesn’t moralise or preach in her novels. She expresses her advice in a reassuring, sisterly voice and then often warns us in a viciously funny way.

What type of advice does Jane Austen give for success in love?

Jane Austen doesn’t advocate blind and unrealistic love driven solely by sexual attraction. She believes love should be based on mutual respect and friendship. In Pride and Prejudice in relation to Elizabeth’s growing love for Darcy, Austen writes, ‘Gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection …’ In Persuasion, Anne Elliot says something similar when she argues with her sister that Mrs Clay is not too ugly for their father to marry. Anne advises, ‘There is hardly any personal defect … that an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile one to.’ Emma Woodhouse would agree as she realises, ‘There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart …’

In addition, Jane Austen gives good advice about staying clear of men who do not want to commit. In Mansfield Park Fanny Price says, ‘I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman’s feelings.’

In Austen’s world, money and social status matter greatly. In her novels what are her tips for success in this area?

During Austen’s time, a woman had to find a man with a sizable income to keep from becoming destitute or relying on the grudging kindness of relatives. However, although the main female protagonists in Austen’s novels eventually marry well-off men for love, Austen warns that money doesn’t necessarily buy happiness. In Sense and Sensibility, the impulsive Marianne says, ‘What have wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?’ A little later she states, ‘Money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it.’

Austen also cautions about spending unnecessarily on clothes and fripperies. For those who are ‘born to shop’, in Northanger Abbey she warns, ‘It would be mortifying to the feelings of many ladies, could they be made to understand how little the heart of a man is affected by what is costly or new in their attire …’

What’s Elizabeth Bennet’s (Pride and Prejudice) best tip for success?

Towards the end of Pride and Prejudice when Darcy and Elizabeth finally get together, Darcy berates himself for having written such a mean spirited letter to Elizabeth. But Elizabeth doesn’t want to rehash the past. She replies, ‘You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.’

We can all learn from Elizabeth’s philosophy—beating ourselves up over the past does nothing to improve the present. Elizabeth confirms this, as she says ‘You must not be too severe on yourself’ to Mr Bennett when he blames himself for Lydia living in sin with the feckless Mr Wickham.

What’s Anne Elliott’s (Persuasion) best tip for success?

In Persuasion Anne Elliott mistakenly passes up the opportunity to marry Captain Wentworth, the man she is crazy about. But like any successful 21st century single woman, Anne leads an active social life as well as enjoying her own company. When talking with her cousin Mr Elliott, Anne explains why she doesn’t seek company merely for the sake of it: ‘My idea of good company … is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation.’

What’s Emma Woodhouse’s (Emma) best tip for success?

When Emma is not plotting to matchmake her friends and acquaintances, she is quite the party animal. She says, ‘I would much rather have been merry than wise.’

And although Emma seems to deliberately overlook the hunky Mr Knightly, she is clear about what she wants, ‘I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other … ‘

What’s your favourite tip for success from Austen and why? 

Probably my favourite tip is from Sense and Sensibility where Mrs Dashwood comforts poor Edward Ferrars who is depressed about his future. Mrs Dashwood tries to cheer him up by saying, ‘Know your own happiness.  You want nothing but patience—or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.’

This is excellent advice for all of us. Another person’s happiness may be completely different from our personal type of happiness. Emma Woodhouse understands this, when in Emma she chides her overly anxious father, ‘One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.’

Another tip that I particularly like is: ‘If everybody was to drink their bottle a day, there would not be half the disorders in the world as there are now.’ It’s probably the only memorable thing that the boorish John Thorpe has to say in Northanger Abbey. This tip gives us perfect justification for reaching for another delicious bottle of pinot noir.

Where can people find the book?

Jane Austen’s Tips for Success
by Colleen Sattler
New Holland Publishers, $19.99

In 2016, she painted three shows for the Sydney Theatre Company—Hamlet Prince of Skidmark (‘really funny and theatrical’), A Flea in Her Ear (‘over the top and gorgeous’) and Speed the Plough (‘I was lead Scenic on this and it was great fun!’)

In 2017, she’s enjoyed designing costumes for Newtown High School of the Performing Arts’ sell-out season of South Pacific, painting traditional theatrical scenery at Scenografic Studio for The Australian Ballet’s production of Alice in Wonderland, completing mural commissions, and promoting her unique fabric and wallpaper collections—developed using traditional theatrical scenic painting techniques and digital technology.

Early in her career, she painted frames for theatre in Drury Lane in London’s West End. She also cut her teeth as a baby on the finger wharves of Woolloomooloo where her parents designed and painted sets. There’s a wonderful image of this (including her cot!) taken when her parents were freelancing under their surnames MARTIN/SIMCOX for the Danny La Rue show.

I interviewed Emelia this month for a project I’m working on about opera and theatre design in Australia. I also asked her what she’s been reading …

Purity by Jonathan Franzen

I’m two chapters into Purity and the main characters are a mother and a daughter. I have an intense relationship with my mother so I’m enjoying it. I read The Corrections years ago when it came out and I loved it. I find Franzen’s work very easy to read. The Corrections was almost like a Pedro Almodóvar film: No-one’s perfect, everyone’s flawed—and there’s a beauty in that. Purity has this quality too, which I find fascinating.

Cannery Row by John Steinbeck

Cannery Row is the next book for my book club—and I’m looking forward to it. Other books we’ve read since I joined the club this year include Kate Tempest’s, The Bricks that Built the Houses and The Course of Love by Alain de Botton.

Gauguin and the Nabis: Prophets of Modernism by Arthur Elldridge

As a hangover from designing the costumes for South Pacific for Newtown High School of the Performing Arts, I found this beautiful book, Gauguin and the Nabis, which contains a lot of Gauguin artworks I hadn’t seen before. It includes other artists of that era (France in the 1890s) like Pierre Bonnard, Édouard Vuillard and Maurice Denis. It often happens that one project I’ve worked on will lead me onto something fresh. In this case, I’ve been finding it interesting to look at form over line work; to think about colour and form, and how light hits form, rather than focusing on graphic outlines.

World Textiles: A Visual Guide to Traditional Techniques by John Gillow and Bryan Sentence

While I was designing Bloody Mary’s skirt for South Pacific (pictured) I was looking at a lot of Caribbean fabric design. I’ve always loved these designs because I once lived in Brixton and there was a lot of this beautiful fabric around—so I’ve really enjoyed rediscovering it. The World Textiles book was also very useful as I worked to conceptualise the skirt.

Fishes of the Great Barrier Reef, and Coastal Waters of Queensland by Tom C. Marshall, with colour illustrations by George Coates

I do get a lot of my inspiration from art reference books. I’ve also got this amazing book on beautiful tropical fish, which I’m loving right now because of the exquisite colours and the designs. I think: Who invented this book? How does it happen? The fish pictured in the colour plates translate to so many design ideas!

Leon Bakst: The Theatre Art by Alexander Schouvaloff

I’m always flicking through this book about Leon Bakst. Bakst was a Russian painter, and scenery and costume designer. He worked with the Ballets Russes, and Najinsky, and he’s an amazing inspiration. If you look at his work, you’ll see he’s trying to show the character and the gesture of the movement as well as supplying a reference for the makers. When you’re designing costumes, all of these things are important.

Google searches can be fine to some extent, and particularly in the early stages of a design, because they can lead you in a different direction. So you’ll think: I need to find out about that. I need to read about it in more detail [in a book] and understand it. It gives you the opportunity to research something you wouldn’t have thought of. It’s a whole new world opening up.

Contact Emilia Simcox at www.simcoxdesigns.com and www.emeliasimcox.com.au
Illustration: Emilia Simcox

You told the Sydney Morning Herald that you were trawling through digital newspaper archives when you came across the story of Lennie Gwyther, the nine-year-old who rode his pony alone from rural Victoria to witness the opening of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. What was it about Lennie that sparked your imagination?

First of all, it was the image of this small boy, sitting straight and tall on his pony, seemingly all alone, as he rode past the important dignitaries at the opening of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I wanted to know who he was, how he got there, and why he had been selected for the singular honour of being in the Grand Opening Parade for one of Australia’s greatest icons. Once I started digging deeper, I was totally bowled over by this laconic nine-year-old and his indefatigable pony who took on and achieved such an enormous task.

Researching and writing Lennie the Legend was a three-year journey involving a long road trip. Can you describe this journey and what it brought home to you about Lennie’s character and remarkable achievement?

I undertook two road trips with my husband, John, retracing Lennie’s actual journey. The first was from Canberra to Leongatha in Victoria and back again. Experiencing firsthand the countryside that Lennie had travelled through helped to inform the descriptions of place in my book. Driving from Leongatha back to Canberra also made me realise what an enormous trip this would have been on horseback. I was very glad I was in a car! I still can’t believe that a nine-year-old boy had the stamina and fortitude to undertake such a long and arduous trip all alone, except for his beloved pony. I also travelled from Canberra to Sydney along Lennie’s route, and in Sydney I visited Taronga Park Zoo, using a 1930s map of the zoo to find my way around. It really made me feel like I was walking in Lennie’s shoes.

In Leongatha, I saw where Lennie had lived and I was privileged to meet people who had known him, including his sister-in-law and one of his school mates. I also had a long phone conversation with Lennie’s sister, Beryl Ferrier, who recently celebrated her 90th birthday by doing the Sydney Harbour Bridge climb!

What do children find most compelling about Lennie’s story?

Lennie’s age and his determination are what seem to impress children the most. The majority of children I talk to of that age are only allowed to go around the block, to a friend’s house nearby or to a local shop, so they can’t believe that Lennie travelled so far with just his pony for company. They are also impressed by the way he handled himself—he didn’t let all the attention go to his head, but remained a humble country lad.

What do you most hope children will feel, think or do in response to reading about Lennie’s passion and determination?

I hope that they are inspired by Lennie’s passion and determination to follow their dreams too, and never give up. Lennie had watched the Harbour Bridge being built for his whole life, and his fascination with everything mechanical initially drove his desire to see the bridge for himself. Everyone needs to be passionate about something, and Lennie shows children how such passion can lead to the most amazing and surprising of outcomes.

In your Teacher’s Notes for Lennie the Legend you suggest that teachers ask children to imagine that they are one of the people watching the Sydney Harbour Bridge opening parade—and you provide them with a link to footage in which Lennie is seen riding on Ginger Mick. What thoughts and feelings did you have when you first saw Lennie in this parade footage?

I got goosebumps when I saw this image! Lennie looks so small, but he and Ginger Mick just calmly ride along, looking around at everything as though they are having a ride in the country on a Sunday afternoon. It is always wonderful to see images like this of the characters I am writing about. It brings it home to me that they are real people, and that I need to treat their story with great respect.

Who else in the parade piqued your interest? For instance, I’d love to know the backstory of the man in the top hat riding the penny-farthing …

There are always stories within stories! I felt sorry for the poor lifesavers in the parade whose feet got burnt because they hadn’t been provided with shoes! The 100 workers who had built the bridge, who marched in front of Lennie, and the Aboriginal people marching behind him, all had their own amazing stories to tell. The Aboriginal people were described in the program for the parade as ‘playing popular airs on gum leaves’. Lennie obviously chatted to them, as his signature has recently been found on a boomerang that was carried by one the Aboriginal people during the parade. The boomerang is now held in the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney.

What fun or strange facts did you learn about the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the course of researching and writing Lennie the Legend?

One of my favourite stories was of a worker who fell off the bridge (it happened quite a lot, as they did not wear safety harnesses). He survived because he went into the water feet first, but the force of the water as he hit it meant that the soles of his work boots came off and the uppers ended up around his thighs. Ouch!

Another suggested question for students in your Teacher’s Notes is: What is the definition of a hero or heroine? So, tell us, who is your hero or heroine, and why?

For me, heroes are not necessarily famous people who achieve great things, but ordinary people who show great courage in difficult circumstances, like all the main characters in my Heritage Heroes series. While I was writing Lennie the Legend my hero was my daughter-in-law, Josie, who was battling breast cancer. She continued to care for her two little boys right up to the end. I could not have written this book at such a difficult time for our family without her encouragement and support.

Lennie the Legend, Amazing Grace and Lost! A True Tale from the Bush are described as companion books, what does this mean? Ideally, how would you like people to encounter these companions, what would you like them to do?

They are a part of my Heritage Heroes series, in which I try to bring to life stories of remarkable and inspiring young people from Australia’s history. I am hoping to write eight books in this series, with each featuring a different state or territory of Australia. Each book can be read independently, but together they provide a fascinating window into our past. They share a similar layout that combines a fictionalised re-creation of a true story with historical information sections, plus stunning images from the National Library of Australia’s collections. These are books for children to read independently, for adults to read to the significant children in their lives, and for adults to savour for themselves.

Back in the late 1980s you co-edited The Inside Story: Creating Children’s Books with Emeritus Professor Belle Alderman AM. The book provides insights into the creation of some of Australia’s best-loved books for children, including Possum Magic. In what ways have the processes involved in creating lovable books for children changed since The Inside Story? If they haven’t changed, why not?

I don’t think the processes have changed. It is still all about imagination and creativity, and producing a book that touches the heart and provides solace, while also entertaining and educating the reader. It’s impossible to tell which books are going to lodge in the national conscious like Possum Magic did, but sometimes the right story, written beautifully and with compelling illustrations, will do just that. It is every writer’s dream to create such a book.

You studied Fine Art at the Australian National University, did a PhD in Communication at the University of Canberra, and have written and illustrated eight children’s books and two books for adults. What’s your top piece of advice for people who want to write and illustrate books for children?

Read, read, read! Write, write, write! Communicate actively with children. Write from the heart about things that speak to you. Research intensively. And never give up!

What was the best and the worst thing about growing up on Sydney’s Northern Beaches?

I grew up in the 1950s and ’60s living a very free and easy life in Sydney, at a time when children were allowed to roam free just like Lennie. I spent hours playing in the bush, climbing trees, exploring caves, making bush huts, roaming the beaches, swimming, catching waves, collecting shells, getting sunburnt and pottering in rock pools. I also read voraciously, painted pictures and wrote stories. It was a great balance! I actually can’t think of any negatives. It is a beautiful part of the world! Luckily, one of my daughters lives there now, so I get to visit a lot. It always feels like coming home.

You have worked as a librarian, secondary school teacher, university lecturer and Hansard editor at Federal Parliament. What, if anything, from your time at Hansard has crept into your books for children or adults?

I have actually just finished writing two picture book manuscripts based on stories from Old Parliament House here in Canberra. One tells the story of a cat who lived at Old Parliament House and was on speaking terms with all of the prime ministers, from Menzies to Hawke. The other is a tale of a native mouse who gets stuck in the House and is chased by the people who work there. Hopefully they will be available next year.

What are the best ways to encourage children to love reading?

Start reading to them when they are very small—or even in utero. It is all about the sound of your voice and the closeness of sharing stories together. Have books everywhere in the house—even in the toilet and the bathroom! Have a set time set aside each day to read together. Let them choose the books that speak to them as well as reading them the books that speak to you. Share your love and enthusiasm with them. And above all enjoy reading!

You are an award-winning book reviewer who reviews for both Fairfax publications and Australian Book Review. What three books for adults or children do you recommend A Bigger Brighter World readers ask Santa for this Christmas and why?

Some of the books for adults I have enjoyed this year include the remarkable World War II story All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr (I kept hoping his wonderful writing style would rub off on me!) and two Australian titles: On the Blue Train by Kristel Thornell, a very elegantly written re-creation of when Agatha Christie went missing; and Goodwood by Holly Throsby, a highly readable re-creation of life in a small Australian country town where things are going awry.

For children I recommend Tania McCartney’s Australia Illustrated, a visual celebration of all things Oz; Somewhere Else by Gus Gordon, a gentle story about finding yourself; and Lots by Marc Martin, a fascinating visual voyage around the world.

What creative projects do you have in the pipeline for 2017?

I am just finishing the editing process of my next Heritage Heroes title—a fabulous story about a girl who was given away by her family to the circus when she was just seven and went on to be the best bareback rider in the world. I am also writing a picture book text for another historical story which, like Lennie, features some of Australia’s icons. And of course there are the two Parliamentary stories. And then there’s all the other books I have lined up to write! So many stories and so little time!

Lennie the Legend
Stephanie Owen Reeder
NLA Publishing, $24.99
Age range: 6 to adult

The story in Jewel Sea is based on the loss of a real Australian ship, the Koombana – what about the story of the Koombana piqued your interest so much? 

One rainy afternoon a couple of years ago, I was looking about on Goodreads for something to take me away somewhere exotic—and I was looking for a history book in particular, because that’s what turns my lights on. I don’t know if it was the old sepia photograph of strapping sailor boys on the cover or some whisper of magic in the sound of the ship’s name, but I immediately had to buy this book called Koombana Days, by historian Annie Boyd.

The blurb told me that this luxurious, state-of-the-art steamship had been lost in a cyclone off the coast of Port Hedland in Western Australia in 1912—just a month before the Titanic tragedy—and was Australia’s worst civilian maritime disaster. Some 150 people aboard her, including a few of the country’s wealthiest folk, all disappeared with the ship, the wreck of which has never been found. And yet, history nerd that I am, I’d never heard of it. Well, it doesn’t get much more tantalising for me. I knew instantly that I’d have to explore this story in fiction, and find out just what might have happened to the Koombana and all her doomed passengers. Well, at least in my imagination …

There is also the true and mysterious story of The Rosy Pearl—what on earth is it, and how did you discover it in your research? 

Of course, I couldn’t wait for Annie Boyd’s book to arrive before getting stuck into some research. Almost straightaway I discovered that Annie had put her own very comprehensive research trails up online and I began gulping it all down. In there, I caught my first glimpse of the legend of the Rosy Pearl—a perfectly round, perfectly pink and perfectly cursed pearl—that was purported to have been aboard the ship when she went down.

A little more digging and I discovered that there were several different versions of this legend, too. The most consistent telling of the tale was that one of Western Australia’s best known and most respected pearl barons—Abraham de Vahl Davis—had purchased this rose-coloured pearl in Port Hedland on the voyage north to Broome. But why would such a revered and otherwise sensible man purchase such a pearl? Yes, this pearl was gorgeous and undoubtedly very pricey, but not only was it cursed—having a string of murders attached to its provenance—it was also stolen. It didn’t make sense that he would take such a risk in purchasing it himself. And there was a little fiction jackpot again: I had to explore just how and why Mr Davis came to be in possession of this infamous jewel of the sea.

Jewel Sea isn’t a straight, cut and dried historical recount—in what way do you play with form and genre in the novel? 

Along with the question of why Mr Davis might have had the rosy pearl on his person, I wondered why a cursed pearl might have wanted to sink an entire ship full of blameless travellers. I mean really, even for a fabulously tall tale, this level of destruction seemed excessive. So, I supposed this pearl must have had some kind of motive. According to the various versions of the legend, it was said that the pearl had been stolen a few times, and so the idea that the pearl was acting in revenge against its theft began to grow in me.

I began to look at things from the pearl’s point of view and suddenly the pearl took on a narrative voice of its own. This seemed preposterous at first, but when I told my husband and sons that I’d just taken on the character of a pearl and asked them if I was mad, they said: ‘Yes. And you have to do it.’

As much as Jewel Sea is a tale of theft and greed, though, it’s also a tale of transformation and the redemptive power of love, so, apart from the narrative thread of the pearl, there are two other threads woven around it that tell a story of a steamy shipboard affair that becomes a meeting of souls. Those who know my novels will be familiar with the male-female dual perspectives I follow throughout each of them and this time I’ve had a great deal of fun playing with the two sides of that coin, to keep readers guessing. The magic in the novel isn’t quite what it seems, either, and neither does the love story unfold according to convention—but you’ll have to read the novel to find out just what happens.

Why is the story of an old ship so relevant now? 

The story of this particular ship—our own little Titanic tragedy—was one that needed to be retold, it seemed to me, or at least we needed to be reminded that it happened. Too often, as Australians, we let our own history slip from memory in favour of the histories of Britain or America. We have lots to share with all our English-speaking cousins, of course, but we are uniquely ourselves, too.

The tragedy of the Koombana became more than a story of a shipwreck for me. It’s a journey back in time to a place, one hundred years ago, when the disparity between rich and poor was vast, when women and workers—such as pearl divers and sailors—were commonly exploited and voiceless. Those threads of theft and greed that run through the story are, I guess, a bit of a warning to us not to go there again as a country, to not allow inequity or bigotry stretch so far.

Sadly, though, one element in the story hasn’t changed a great deal over the past one hundred years, and that’s the effect theft and greed have had on the Indigenous peoples of the Kimberley and the Pilbara. I’d had little idea of the frontier conflicts that occurred here—conflicts that still resonate today—and that’s a story that definitely needs to be told. I’ve only told a tiny fraction of it—inspired by the real-life but nameless Aboriginal prisoner that was aboard the Koombana—but I hope that he knows, somewhere, that someone remembers him.

Like all my novels, Jewel Sea shines a little light into some neglected corners of the past and looks into the contradictions of who we are—the good, the bad and the breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you enjoy the journey.

Win a copy

You can win a copy of the Jewel Sea print novel—all you have to do is respond in the comments to this question by Kim Kelly! Warning—if she loves your answer, she might write a book about it.

‘What period of Australian history intrigues you and why?’ The most intriguing answer wins!

Jewel Sea
Kim Kelly
The Author People, $24.99 PB, $8.99 eBook

Your new picture book for children, Too Many Sheep, was published by Scholastic on May 1. It is aimed at children aged 4 to 7. What do children most enjoy about this story? What inspired you to write it?

This new book is a lot of fun and it was great fun to create. I love observing young children taking adults literally and so I had the image of a house filling up with sheep that were being counted in my mind for a long time. Eventually I wrote the text for Too Many Sheep, where a young boy invites sheep over to be counted but the sheep know they are onto a good thing and trouble begins. When I read this story to children they laugh and love the parts of the story when things become a disaster, where there is a sheep on the loo, where they make sandwiches in the kitchen. They like the book-reading sheep who is sad that it can’t stay longer to finish the book. I think they like the fact that they can see themselves in the story.

What is one fun fact, whimsical sentiment or other inspirational delight that you hope young readers will take from your story?

That our imaginations are amazing and unstoppable, that we can tame our ideas or let them go wild and create crazy worlds and adventures and still stay safe.

What three words best describe the style of illustrations in Too Many Sheep?

Funny, quirky, playful.

You say Too Many Sheep is your ‘first illustrated book completed graphically on the computer’. How did it feel to make this transition and what did it involve?

The transition into illustrating digitally has been a gradual and slow one so by the time I started illustrating Too Many Sheep I was feeling quite confident and excited about the possibilities. I did discover that drawing digitally isn’t a short cut or quicker process than hand rendering onto paper, as the temptation to keep hitting the undo button extended the process. It was important to me that the book didn’t scream ‘digital illustration’. Just as with any book, I want the images to be enjoyed, devoured and loved, then explored as to how they were completed. Drawing digitally is just another medium I am using as an artist, and I had to learn to use it as such, not to try to use it to imitate other mediums. I love working digitally but I also love working on paper and getting my hands dirty!

You are both an author and an illustrator of children’s books. What’s good about being able to do both?

I love that I can weave both words and images together like dancing partners to create a whole story. It certainly helps when I am writing the text for a picture book to be able to edit down the words knowing what I will use to visually tell the story.

Who are two or three Australian writer-illustrators of children’s picture books you most admire and why?

I love the work of Shaun Tan, his depth of imagination and creative uniqueness. I adore Freya Blackwood’s work, her use of line and movement and unique perspective. Robert Ingpen is amazing, his intense use of texture and line, colour and light. I have always found him an inspiration.

What was it like to collaborate with such Australian children’s literature greats as Colin Thiele, Christobel Mattingley and Jackie French? Can you briefly describe the process? The fun you had?

It was amazing to work with the words of these amazing authors. I felt very privileged. I didn’t get to collaborate as such but obviously the illustrations were shown to them by the publishers. I am thrilled that Colin Thiele asked for me to illustrate his book. I had illustrated my first trade book for his friend and neighbour, Bill Scott, and he saw my illustrations and liked them. In fact, it was Colin who encouraged his neighbour to use me as his illustrator, so I’m very thankful for that. He then published his own book in the same series and asked for me. I was so excited. My second book and I was illustrating for one of my writing heroes. Meeting these great authors and having them encourage and offer advice was amazing and I was very thankful for their help and genuine support. I keep my letter from Colin and read it from time to time to remind myself how lucky I am to have worked with him.

You once dyed your hair pink in order to grab a publisher’s attention. What words of encouragement and practical advice (apart from pink hair!) can you offer a fledgling writer or illustrator attempting to gain a foothold in the children’s publishing industry?

Firstly, I recommend growing a hide as thick as a rhinoceros. Then make sure you approach the business end of the publishing field with a professional and business like manner. In that, I mean, realise that publishers and publishing houses are businesses. They need to make money and profits or they won’t exist. Try not to take rejections or misunderstandings personally. They are dealing with hundreds of people each week, including hundreds of manuscripts.

I decided that I needed to stand out from the crowd, thus the pink hair so they would remember me, but I don’t recommend selling your soul in order to get published. Stay true to who you are and what you know is right. Sometimes people will offer false flattery to get you to undertake something you might regret later on. I suggest sticking to it, aim high and wide and be adaptable. When you start working with a publisher, you become a part of a creative team, so there has to be a bit of give and take.

What are two or three children’s books your children have read this year (either by themselves or with you) that have touched a chord in them and become their favourites?

My children are grown now but all love to read and my daughter, who still lives at home, is always discussing her reading journey with me (in fact, she is currently helping me by proofreading my novel). We enjoy sharing books and I wait until she finishes a book she is excited about to have a read. She is a great source of enthusiasm and resource into what is happening in the YA market, which is an area I am trying to write for as well as picture books. We have both read Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children, The Secret River and The Kite Runner. We both have tall piles of books waiting to be read. I miss snuggle time on the couch over a picture book but all of my children still enjoy reading the picture books I add to my large collection.

Your book Welcome Home (Ford Street Publishing) is the story of a whale as she returns to her ancestral home to see if it is safe. It won the Wilderness Society’s Environmental Award for Children’s Literature in 2014. Did you set out with the intention of writing about the environment in order to educate young readers? What’s crucial when writing a story that probes a social issue and tries to impart a message (but not to preach)?

Yes, I wrote this particular story with the intention of not teaching/preaching, but opening minds to consider thinking about what we do now and learning from the past. I had wanted to write a book regarding whaling for many years but it is quite a gruesome topic and I refuse to use children’s literature as a platform to preach. I want to empower people—readers—to take the information and work out their own ideas. It is also important for me in my writing to offer hope. When I read a newspaper article about a southern right whale birthing in the Derwent River for the first time in nearly 200 years, I knew I had a story. This book will always be very precious to me and it is received well by children and adults of all ages.

The first children’s picture book you wrote and illustrated was Purinina, A Devil’s Tale (Lothian, Hachette). What was your greatest challenge in writing about the Tasmanian devil’s struggle for survival in a way that would engage children?

The first book is usually the hardest but for me it seemed to be one of my easiest. I had a lot to learn and still continue to do so. As for Welcome Home, I wanted to encourage children to investigate further, to be empowered to learn more and to find ways to learn through different styles of storytelling. This story is what is often referred to as faction, where fiction is used to portray fact. My two oldest children are autistic and have always loved facts and figures, statistics and collecting unusual bits of information, so it was natural for me to create a book that offered this. The last pages offer interesting information about the devil that many people don’t know about. I loved researching this and discovering it for myself and sharing it.

My biggest challenge was learning to draw the devils, or purininas. I had to study their anatomy and how they moved before I could get them right. I went to a wildlife park and they took me into the enclosures and allowed me to pat and interact with the devils and that was a great help.

How does your teacher training and past experience teaching primary and secondary school students contribute to your work as a children’s writer and illustrator?

Being a teacher is a wonderful skill to have when working with children of all ages and with adults. I love to share my craft and encourage young readers, writers and artists in following their dreams. I enjoy empowering others to achieve in this industry. As an art teacher, I have been treated to an array of different mediums and have experience working with them. This means I am able to adapt quickly to using new mediums and papers and happy to change paint or pencil to suit the book I am working on, which is often for other authors as well. I do miss classroom teaching and love having the opportunity to visit schools to talk and work with students and teachers.

On July 16 you ran a ‘Writing for Children Workshop’ in Launceston. What useful tip or insight do you most hope workshop participants took home from this workshop?

I think that would depend on what they were trying to achieve in their writing, but an important message is that no matter what style or genre or audience you are writing for, practise your craft and remember to read. Reading is your apprenticeship and it is said that if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.

In your promo for your ‘Illustrating Picture Books Workshop’ you say, ‘Illustrating picture books is a different realm to creating regular art that stands alone?’ Can you tell A Bigger Brighter World readers in a sentence or two what a picture book illustrator needs to do that is so different?

An illustrator really needs to understand the story telling process as much as a writer does. In fact, they are writing as well but using pictures as words. Illustrations need to dance with the words, not copy them, otherwise the book will have no soul.

You also run a children’s story assessment service. What is the most common mistake made by people who want to write stories for children? What remedy do you most often advise?

People naturally use too many words. We all do, even people with experience. The crafting of a story is knowing how to get rid of the words and make those that remain very powerful. I often have stories sent that we can remove half of the text and end up with a stronger and more complete story. It’s not a mistake as such and is part of the learning process, which is why I do what I do as a story telling mentor. One mistake people do make is not allowing enough time for their stories to blossom. We get excited about a great looking text and instead of putting it away (I know, who is patient enough to do that?!) we feel it is finished and send it away. Publishers know if you haven’t given the time to revisit your work after a time away, in much the same way as a dentist knows you only flossed an hour before your appointment.

You grew up in St Helens on Tasmania’s East Coast—and you still live in Tasmania. What is the greatest gift (or curse) this place has given you in your writing?

A mixture of many blessings and some ‘curses’ I suppose. My beautiful environment and creative communities, our slightly different pace of life (it’s busy but in different ways) have inspired me and allowed me to do what I do. Sometimes it gets a bit lonely; most of my author friends are on the ‘big island’ or down south in Hobart and travel isn’t as amenable as it can be on the mainland. Our roads are subject to ice and we don’t have trains (which is also a good thing!). I love catching up with other authors and thankfully our wonderful world of technology helps us to keep in touch regularly.

I read on your blog that you are completing a novel. Can you give us a sneak preview of this or any other work in progress?

My novel has just been sent to a publisher. I now wait in hope. I still get rejections and I still hope away just like any author. It is a fictional story set in Tasmania with a tilt once again toward the environment. It is probably aimed mostly at the younger end of YA. It has taken me five years to write it and edit it and it has certainly got a few more hours of work to do even if it is accepted for publication.

I have another picture book coming out next year with Scholastic called The Anzac Tree. It looks at the effects war has on families. I’m hoping we can launch it on Anzac day.

What was your favourite book or more pleasant reading experience during your childhood and why?

I adored reading as a child. I learned to read from a very young age. My mother would read to my brother and me and also used the time to learn English as it is her second language. I still have many of my childhood books here on my shelves, and some have even survived my children as well. Those that stick in my mind are The Brothers Lionheart by Astrid Lindgren, The Endless Steppe by Esther Hautzig, and I adored (and still do) poring over my Coles Funny Picture Book my father bought for me, a book of my very own.

What are the best ways to encourage children to love reading? 

I think that children learn to love things by seeing others love them. If we show children a love of reading and allow them to explore and find what is right for them, they will read. We need to be patient and to encourage, not treat it as a chore or something that comes with rules and competition and assessments. Reading and storytelling comes in many forms and is as unique as each of us—we need to find the best way for ourselves.

Too Many Sheep
Christina Booth
Scholastic, $19.99

Your first children’s pictures books Twig (published by Scholastic Press) and My Magnificent Jelly Bean Tree (illustrated by you, written by Maura Finn, and published by New Frontier) will be released in 2016. How does it feel?

On one hand I want to shout it from the hilltops because publishing is a long process and I’m excited to finally have books out this year. On the other hand I’m so critical of my work that I also feel like hiding it away in a cupboard so nobody can ever see. I guess I’m a bit torn to extremes. Perhaps after the books are out for a while I’ll feel more even keeled about it.

You are both a writer and an illustrator. How common is this combination in the world of children’s publishing? What’s good about being able to do both?

There are quite a few writer/illustrators out there but probably more often a book will have an author and an illustrator but, no matter how the book is made, everyone is chasing the perfect fusion of image and text for their storytelling. I like it when the words and pictures contradict each other or the text is so minimal that the picture delivers the message so the meaning is made between the two. Illustrators can bring their own ideas into a book but if you have ownership over the whole project you can edit as you go. It is a playful process trying to get it right and it is incredible fun.

Who are two or three Australian writer-illustrators of children’s pictures books you most admire and why?

I love Alison Lester’s work, especially her colours and the way she draws animals. Her stories are tied up with memories of reading together with my little kids all snuggled up in bed. That is something I really love about picture books—that they are for sharing, reading aloud, cuddling up and bonding over. The Wrong Book by Nick Bland is a book that struck a chord with us. I think our copy of that is practically worn out from so much reading.

You have described writing a book as being ‘like pouring a whole lot of time into some uncertain cup in the sky, really exciting and really hard’. What kept you going through the uncertainties?

I love it. The more I do it the more I love it. And as time goes by that cup is growing a little more certain.

Twig is full of bugs and grew out of your four-year-old’s obsession with insects. Which of your ‘noisy’ bug characters is your favourite? Can you share a picture of this bug to entice www.abiggerbrighterworld.com readers to read the book?

Like my own children they are all my favorites! I can’t wait to see kids exploring my miniature bug world as there are hundreds of tiny characters and things to find within the illustrations. If I had to choose … I’d have to say Heidi, although I do have a soft spot for little Midge.

This is Heidi trying to catch up with the bug bus.

This is a snippet of the playground at Bug School.

What is one fun fact, whimsical sentiment or other inspirational delight that you hope young readers will take from your story?

Twig is about starting school and I wrote it when my four-year-old was about to go through the whole transition. He was into bugs and about to start Kindy, so somehow those two ideas joined together and I came up with Bug School. It is an exciting time and can be a huge change and often there are tears from both the kids and the parents. At the heart the book are all those feelings about fitting in, friendship, finding someone to play with when you don’t know anyone. I hope kids can take something from the personal and emotional side of these little characters.

What three words best describe the style of illustrations that you created for My Magnificent Jelly Bean Tree, written by Maura Finn?

Imaginative, delicious and fun.

What was it like to collaborate with Maura Finn on this book project? Can you briefly describe the process? The fun you had?

I would have enjoyed a collaborative style of working, but I wasn’t in contact with Maura while illustrating the book. I’m in touch with her now and we met for the first time at the book launch. As you can imagine, we get on like a house on fire! I discussed ideas with the publisher at the beginning of the project. I wanted the book to start black and white and use jelly bean shaped frames that increase in size and build up the colour as the imaginary world grows. I was given some notes to go on and at the same time pure creative freedom to be carried away—to invent a playful imaginative tree—it was a lot of fun indeed!

Here’s the tree, a boy bean and a jelly bean sky …

You and your sister-in-law, interior designer Marena Von Behr, hand-print artworks and coordinating textiles in your studio in Sydney under the label Studio Bonnie. How does this work complement and/or feed into your work as a children’s writer and illustrator?

The textiles work certainly informs my illustration style. I used to try and collage the fabrics on but I’ve come to realise the nature of the textiles is in the underlying design of the page. The tendency to space things out and my treatment of perspective has likely grown out of making patterns where forms are reduced to shapes. How the colours work together is important to the success of a fabric print and that is carried through to the illustrations too. There is even a crossover happening in the themes, hidden things to find and camouflage seem to be happening in Twig as well as our Studio Bonnie work.

What words of encouragement and practical advice can you offer a fledgling children’s writer or illustrator attempting to gain a foothold in the children’s publishing industry?

• Find like-minded creative people.
• Share illustrations online—but only the best stuff!
• Cherish your passion for what you do.
• Be kind to yourself.
• Don’t rush.
• Don’t forget to play.
• And keep going.

You are passionate about art, design and children’s literature and try to read and draw with your three children as much as you can. What do you most hope your children will take into their lives from these creative encounters with pictures and words?

Creative courage is a handy skill to have and further down the track it can flow on positively to everything they endeavor. Children are inventive, the way they put crazy things together and that is to be encouraged. I especially love it when we come up with ideas and it all gets a bit silly, so for now we are having as much fun as we can with it all.

What are three children’s books that your children have read this year (either by themselves or with you) that have touched a chord in them and become their favourites?

My daughter is a fan of Lulu Bell by Belinda Murrell. We all loved Mr Huff by Anna Walker, and lately all three of my children have taken to reading The Bad Guys by Aaron Blabey aloud to each other in silly voices.

When in 2016 are your two new books due out and where will ABBW readers be able to buy them?

Twig will be out in November and My Magnificent Jelly Bean Tree was released in May 2016, both available from bookstores. Illustrated prints will be available on my website. www.illustrated.com.au.