Sally Rippin

Hey Jack!

2012-02-01T13:29:00.003+11:00

Hey Jack! comes out today. Check your local bookstore. Meanwhile, here is an interview I did with Holly Harper for Readings about the Billie and Jack books. I'd love to hear what you think of the new series!

Sally Rippin's series for junior readers Billie B Brown has been such a hit that Hey Jack! - a spin-off series starring Billie's best friend Jack - has just been launched. We chat with Sally about Jack, Billie and writing for children.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book?

I am currently working on a new series of early chapter books for kids called Hey Jack. Jack is best friends with Billie from the Billie B Brown series and, being the quieter of the two, I thought it would be nice to be given the opportunity to see the world from his perspective.

In my mind, the Billie B Brown series is an antidote to all the fairy and princess books out there marketed towards girls, whereas the Hey Jack series is for boys who can’t relate to super heroes or sporting stars. While Billie likes to dress-up, she also likes to climb trees and kick a soccer ball around. She is very good on the monkey bars but hopeless at ballet. Jack, on the other hand, might be shy, but he shines in his school musical. He builds excellent Lego castles and even makes his own robot costumes out of cardboard boxes. I hope kids who have read and enjoyed the Billie series will love the Jack series, too.

What has been your favourite experience as a writer?

I have to say writing the Billie B Brown series has been the highlight of writing career so far. I love writing the stories and feel like I’ve tapped into an infinite well of memories to draw on from my own childhood. Most of all, I am overwhelmed by how popular this series has become, and in such a short time. I receive dozens of incredibly cute emails every month from young readers and I can’t tell you how many invitations Billie has received to birthday parties! I am thrilled, too, to receive emails from parents who have told me that the series has inspired their child to read. This is everything I could have hoped for as a writer and I feel enormously grateful.

Why do you write for children?

I like kids. I like the way their view of the world constantly reminds me to be open and inspired and in awe of everything around me. I like their sense of humour, playfulness and innate creativity. I also think having such a strong memory of myself at a young age helps me empathise and understand children and why they do things that from an adult’s point of view may seem incomprehensible. I think it is a great honour to perhaps be among the very first books a person has ever read. Many of the books I read as a child had a profound effect on me. I remember many of them with fondness and many of the characters have stayed with me like old friends. I would love to think that one of my books could have the same effect on a child today.

Describe your main characters in three words.

Jack: Introspective, imaginative and insightful

Billie: Boisterous, bossy and brave

What has been your favourite book of the past month? The past year? Of All time?

Oh, that’s a hard one. Past month: I just finished reading Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder and loved it, but I also recently read The Brain That Changes Itself by Norman Doidge and loved that, too – obviously for very different reasons. One took me out of my head, the other lead me into it. Both gave me great insight into what makes people tick.

Past year: Hmmm... Maybe Skellig By David Almond, or When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead – two beautiful and wildly imaginative children’s books that I read around the time of writing my own children’s novel Angel Creek and both inspired me greatly.

All time? Oh, way too hard. Recently I’ve been saying To Kill A Mockingbird is my all-time favourite novel, so I’ll stick with that, but I was also blown away by Niccolo Ammaniti’s I’m Not Scared. I love the way that both these stories explore the darkest places of humanity from the skewed and largely innocent perspective of a child.

What’s your favourite place to read?

Bed. Hands down. As long as I can stay awake...

What kind of reader do you think will love your book the most?

I write a wide range of books from picture books to Young Adult novels, but if we are talking specifically about the Jack and Billie series, let’s say a young reader who is ready to try their first chapter book. Someone who wants to read about a character they can relate to and who could, very possibly, become their very best friend.

Holly Harper is a children’s bookseller at Readings Carlton where she organises the kids and Young Adult e-newsletters. She also writes books for younger readers under the name H.J. Harper. Find out more about her Star League series and other books here and follow her on twitter - @hj_harper.

Race For The Chinese Zodiac

2012-01-09T14:05:00.006+11:00

Happy New Year of the Dragon!

To celebrate Chinese New Year, which falls on January 23rd, bring your kids along on Saturday 21st January to the Melbourne Recital Centre to see a performance of The Race For The Chinese Zodiac.

Written by Gabriel Wang and illustrated by myself and designer, Regine Abos, this is the story of how twelve animals were chosen by the Jade Emperor for a place on the Chinese Zodiac.

Wang Zheng-Ting, director of the Chinese Music Ensemble, will accompany storyteller Andy Wright, to bring this story to life.

Gabi and I will be there to sign books and say hello, and if you are very lucky you might just get a little red envelope to place a new year's wish inside. Hope to see you there!

For more details and to book tickets, click here.

On the Radio

2011-12-19T13:24:00.003+11:00

As most of you will know, 2012 is the National Year of Reading. Paula Kelly (State Library of Victoria), Kujla Coulstan (On the Grapevine) and I are aiming to record a series of up to twelve radio podcasts with 3RRR over 2012 celebrating children’s books. We are planning to launch the program as a live radio show on 3RRR with Tony Wilson (and special guest/s) on Feb 16th from 7-8pm.

For the following monthly podcasts, our rough idea at this stage is to have a 45 min show where we have guest speakers from all aspects of the children’s book industry joining us and perhaps look at covering a particular theme, topic or event in each session. We also hope to have a segment on each show tracking the progress of our Australian Children's Laureates; Boori Monty Pyror and Alison Lester, as they travel around Australia.

So, while we are still at the planning and brainstorming stage, I would love to hear from anyone who is into kids books (keeping in mind that this also encompasses YA, graphic novels, comics etc) to see what it is that would make YOU tune into the show.

Here is a small list of questions I have put together but feel free to provide any suggestions - I am grateful for everything at this stage. Keep in mind that this is a radio program about kids books, but for an adult audience.

- What topics would you like covered?

(Here are some suggestions: Genre Fiction, Picture Books, Graphic Novels, Censorship, Humour, Kids Choice VS CBCA, Boys Books & Girls Books, Should My Child Be Reading Twilight, Classic Children’s Books, Books For Struggling Readers, Crossover Fiction, Local Books, Books To Film, New Books, New Authors/Illustrators, Events & Workshops...)

- Which Authors/Illustrators would you LOVE to hear on the show?

(Give me your Top Five if you like - including a couple of realistically obtainable ones. Not saying that we can’t try!)

- Would you rather a local or global perspective?

(Are you interested in books and authors publishing here as well as overseas or are you mainly interested in the Melbourne Scene?)

- Big Names or Next Big Thing?

(Would you be more interested to hear from established authors or exciting new talent?)

Any ideas for a snappy title for our show?

Other suggestions?

Thanks so much!

Sally.

Faber Academy Writing For Children

2011-12-06T14:23:00.005+11:00

Writing for Children with Sally Rippin

Faber Academy at Allen & Unwin is delighted to offer Writing for Children, run by Sally Rippin with guests Martine Murray and Andy Griffiths. This course will teach the skills needed to succeed and be fulfilled in the competitive and flourishing children's publishing industry.

Children are discerning readers. To write a children's book that will stand out on a publisher's desk, and then on bookstore shelves, you need to be aware of what is already out there, while creating something that reflects your personality.

This course will cover the elements required to create a stand-out manuscript. You will discover how to craft a compelling story, memorable characters, authentic dialogue and an evocative setting. You will learn about your audience and the themes and language suited to different age groups. The course will also discuss what publishers are looking for and how to convince them that you are worth publishing.

Suitable for all levels, students are encouraged to bring along their ideas and be prepared to workshop. They will leave with a holistic understanding of the children's publishing industry, as well as a full or partially completed draft. Most importantly, they will have established connections with their fellow writers and joined a like-minded community.

ABOUT SALLY: Sally has been writing and illustrating children's books for over fifteen years. She has over forty books published, many of them award-winning, including two novels for young adults. She has taught writing for children courses at the Council of Adult Education, the Victorian Writers' Centre and as a part of the Professional Writing and Editing program at RMIT University.

For more information on these courses please visit

http://www.allenandunwin.com/faberacademy/writing_for_kids.html

To book please call 02 8425 0100 or email

faberacademy@allenandunwin.com

The Countdown til Christmas...

2011-12-02T09:12:00.007+11:00

I bought my youngest an advent calendar yesterday from the Two Dollar shop which unfortunately comes with chocolate that is inedible, even for my son who will eat almost anything that contains sugar. (It did only cost $2 however, so expecting the chocolate not to be past the use-by date was perhaps too much to ask?) Anyway, the point of me mentioning this is that it now sits on the sideboard in the kitchen merrily announcing just how few days are left until Christmas. Which, obviously for my son is good news. Me, it's a little scarier.

Christmas basically means the end of the year as far as I'm concerned and between now and then, like most people I imagine, my To Do List is looking more and more ridiculous. Aside from work deadlines (2 chapter book edits, 1 short story and a picture book dummy to complete) we have recently bought a new house. Which, of course is very exciting, until I think of how much we have to do before we even move in. It's a beautifully daggy 1950s brick house very much like the ones Howard Arkley used to paint. In fact I think this Howard Arkley image I've used might be our very house (minus the one tree in the front garden.) Having been in the same family since it was built and never renovated, everything inside and out is original 1950s. This includes the rose-print carpet throughout, the flocked cream wallpaper, and, in my 18 year old son's bedroom, 1950s racing car wallpaper, which, as you can imagine, he was thrilled about. I know retro is so hip right now but there's only so much racing car wallpaper anyone can look at for more than half an hour.

Anyway, once the carpet is out and the walls painted and I've got a few trees growing in the garden to break up that bowling-green lawn, I know this is going to be a fabulous place for us, particularly as it's nearly twice the size of where we are living now. Even though I adore our tiny little inner-city weatherboard, with two huge sons and one not far behind, we are literally bursting at the seams. And the best news is that now we might even be able to have more than one guest over at a time!

Basically, our summer is going to be spent ripping up carpet and wallpaper, packing boxes and unpacking them again. With as much writing and illustrating work as I can manage in between...

Except for Christmas day. With all my family overseas including my two eldest boys, my partner and I and our youngest are going to spend Christmas day in a tent on the beach. A little island of quiet before the busyness of the new year.

So, each time my son opens a little flap on that advent calendar and I begin to panic, I just picture that image of us on the beach in our tent and I can almost breath normally again.

I hope your summer is shaping up to be a good one and that if Santa doesn't bring you exactly what you wished for you at least get some non-mouldy chocolates in your stocking.

Only 34 more sleeps til You-Know-What!

2011-11-21T10:43:00.003+11:00

If you missed me in Malvern a couple of weeks ago and would still like to get a signed Billie book for someone's stocking this Christmas, I will be at Fairfield Books this Saturday 26th November signing books from 11am - 12pm.

Hope to see you there!

The address is 117A Station St, Fairfield.

Ph. (03) 9482 2499

Fax. (03) 9482 2633

email: books@fairfieldbooks.biz

Publishing opportunity for new writers!

2011-11-15T15:54:00.005+11:00

Some good news for yet-to-be-published writers of YA Fiction. Hardie Grant Egmont are beginning a new YA fiction collection called Ampersand that will be devoted to novels by debut writers. The main rules are that the writers mustn’t have published a novel before, and the story must be set in real life. Submissions are open now until the end of the summer, so get cracking. Details are available at http://bit.ly/Ampers. Good luck!

Why I Love Mondays

2011-11-07T12:42:00.004+11:00

How often is it that you can pick up the paper and read some good news? Well, the answer to that question is: every Monday. I feel incredibly lucky to live in a city where we have access to something as marvellous as The Zone. In my opinion, The Zone is the most innovative and positive newspaper reporting in print publication today. Where else can you regularly read about good people doing good things without fanfare or political agenda in our very own city? The Zone makes me feel proud to be a Melburnian.

Take today's interview with Kane Bowden, CEO of The Lighthouse Foundation, which offers 'shelter, food, counselling, health support and most of all, love' to young homeless people. 'He cites an abused young woman who stayed for six months, stabilised, got into university, completed her studies, landed a job in the city and then became an academic who is now teaching at a university. ''She hadn't been hugged or cuddled in her entire life. She got her first hug in the first couple of weeks from her carer.'''

I don't know whether this makes me want to laugh or cry. I do know that this makes me incredibly grateful that these kind, quiet acts of generosity aren't going unnoticed, thanks to Michael Short's empathetic, intelligent and perceptive pieces. Mondays have now become something to look forward to.

B is for Book Signing

2011-11-04T15:00:00.004+11:00

This Saturday 5th November I will be at Books in Print in Malvern, signing Billie books from 11am to midday. If you have any Billie B Brown fans at home, please come along!

Books in Print are located at 100-102 Glenferrie Rd, Malvern.

(Between High Street and Wattletree Road)

Ph: (03) 9500 9631

early harvest launch

2011-10-26T12:17:00.004+11:00

Come along and support the launch of this wonderful new magazine for children by children. Created by an editorial board of 14 upper-primary students from Melbourne’s west, the magazine includes work by bestselling children’s authors and illustrators such as Terry Denton, Sally Rippin and Sherryl Clark, as well as young authors from across Melbourne.

The magazine is the culmination of a 16-week after-school program, in which the editorial board created a children’s edition of literary journal harvest magazine. The young editors were guided through the process by professionals from the publishing industry, including editors from Penguin Australia, Hardie Grant Egmont, Dumbo Feather and Cardigan Comics.

“early harvest has been an amazing project for these young people to be involved in,” said Davina Bell, editor of harvest magazine, and Children’s Editor for Penguin Australia. “They have worked alongside publishing professionals to pick the theme, solicit, select and edit submissions, brief illustrators on artwork, and bring it all together to create a beautiful publication.

The young editorial board of early harvest will be on hand at the launch to sign copies of the magazine, along with the authors young and old, the illustrators and the publishing mentors.

Launch Details:

11 am, 12 November 2011

The Sun Theatre

10 Ballarat Street

Yarraville

To be launched by author Sally Rippin

Proceeds from the sale of this book support Pigeons not-for-profit writing programs for children and young people. www.pigeonsprojects.org

Fishing for thongs and other childhood games

2011-10-18T13:43:00.004+11:00

Here is a photo of my two youngest fishing for thongs from our hammock which they have managed to string up perilously high (against a particularly ugly backdrop of our neighbour's construction sight - but that's another story). So high in fact that the littlest one needs a ladder to get up there! My thrill at watching this crazy game almost overrides my parental anxiety. Almost. But if you want your kids to play outside and use their imaginations, well, what can you do?

Here's an option just as creative and far safer (perhaps). Thanks to the fabulous blog Free Range Kids, I came across this wonderful mini-doco on a simple yet creative way to get kids involved in imaginative play. I found it very inspiring. It only goes for ten minutes and is definitely worth a watch if, like me, you love watching kids play. I almost feel inclined to set up a mini version of the playpod at home. Though on a bad day our whole house often looks like a playpod. I think the trick is to have a big space to lock all that junk away again at the end of the day...

Some happy news

2011-10-08T17:03:00.007+11:00

Some of you may remember when I wrote last year of visiting my sponsor child, Elizabeth, in Ghana. It was an incredible experience that allowed me to see with my own eyes how my meagre contribution had literally changed lives and also convinced me to begin sponsoring a second child as well, this time in Sri Lanka.

Well, recently, World Vision contacted me with the happy news that Elizabeth's village has now become self-sufficient and no longer needs my support. The aim of World Vision is not to provide indefinite funding but to provide communities with the skills and resources they need to survive on their own. Elizabeth and the other children in her village, now have access to education, safe drinking water and healthcare, and the community leaders have been equipped with the skills to maintain the development progress that has been made.

I felt a little sad writing my last card to Elizabeth after sponsoring her for over six years, but mostly happy that the small amount I had contributed - less than what I would spend on coffees each week - had made such a difference. So when World Vision asked if I'd like to sponsor another child in Africa, I agreed without hesitation.

My new sponsor child is a little girl called Khalif and she lives in Kenya. I always sponsor girls - having three sons of my own, it's my silly way of imagining I have daughters. I wonder if I'll be lucky enough to meet her one day?

Here are some links you might like to look at if you feel inspired to make a difference:

World Vision

Oxfam

Save The Children

The Life You Can Save

And if you need any more convincing, watch this:

The Big Book of Billie

2011-09-29T15:34:00.004+10:00

So exciting. Ever since I saw the 'Big Book of Tashi' several years ago I have secretly fantasised about having a 'big book of something' - and here it is! All twelve Billie stories, along with puzzles, games and even a gingerbread recipe! What more could a girl want?

And, if you're a boy who secretly loves Billie books but is too shy to be seen reading them in front of your friends because there is a GIRL on the front cover (ie; my eight-year-old son!) here is some good news for you:

Finally, Billie's best friend, Jack gets to tell HIS side of the story. But you'll have to wait until February next year...

Back in town

2011-09-24T07:34:00.003+10:00

Aki and I arrived back in Melbourne last night after a whirlwind tour of Victoria and NSW talking about all things Billie B Brown to hundreds of very excited primary students. As it turns out, Aki looks remarkably like Billie so for all the youngest kids hoping to see the actual Billie, Aki fulfilled that need quite nicely. Plus she can draw up a storm. We had so much fun. I hope we can tour together again one day.

Today the lovely Sue DeGennaro and I will be doing a couple of sessions on picture books at The Thousand Words Festival at the Northcote Town Hall at 11.30 and 12.30. It should be a great festival this year.

Then Monday - don't forget! - it's the once only production of the animated versions of The Rainbirds and The Night Garden at the Melbourne Recital Centre. I have seen a preview of the show and it is really something quite magical and would be a beautiful thing to do on the first Monday of the school holidays with your littlies. Tickets are still available. Happy holidays!

Get Reading tour

2011-09-16T09:34:00.004+10:00

I'm back in Melbourne and straight to bed with a fever and a throat so sore I can barely swallow. Obviously the combination of ten straight days of talking and hundreds of snotty little darlings coming up for cuddles has finally taken its toll on my poor immune system.

I only have this weekend to get better though because first thing Monday, Aki Fukuoka, the lovely Billie B Brown illustrator, and I are hitting the road again travelling around Victoria and NSW with this year's Get Reading! campaign.

If you want to know where Aki and I will be each day, click here or here.

And don't forget to read Aki's blog posts about her first Australian school visits last week. It looks like she had a wonderful time!

Heading North

2011-08-29T13:37:00.006+10:00

... And for any Queenslanders reading this blog, I'm heading up to your sunny state this Sunday. (Woo hoo!) I will be at the Ipswich Literature Festival from Sept 5th to the 13th, and also squeezing in a day at the Brisbane Writers' Festival on Sept 9th. Love to see you!

And if you can't make it in person, don't forget to check out Sheryl Gwyther's wonderful blog which, is ALMOST as nice as being there.

Book signings and author talks

2011-08-25T16:49:00.004+10:00

For any Billie fans, I will be doing a book signing at Collins Book Store in Northland on Saturday 27th from 1pm until 2pm.

For anyone who'd like to hear me chat about Angel Creek, I will be at the Melbourne Writers Festival on Tues 30th, 10am at Art Play.

Lastly, if you'd like to hear Gabrielle Wang and I chatting about books, writing and just about anything you want really, we will be at the MWF on Wed 31 at 11.15am.

Hope to see some of you there!

Back on the road again...

2011-08-15T18:02:00.007+10:00

Well, like many other children's authors, I am gearing up for several solid weeks of school talks around Melbourne and interstate, everywhere from Pakenham to Geelong, Ballarat to Ipswich. I love visiting schools, especially when I get to meet my young readers or test out my ideas on a ready audience, but I do find it exhausting. To me, giving 'author talks' is more like doing a performance, and at most schools I'll do three or four in a row. Often my audience is very young so to keep the littlies entertained I find myself contorting my voice and face into so many different expressions that by the end of the day my voice has diminished into a raspy squeak and even my face hurts and I am wondering how on earth Justine Clarke makes it look so easy.

There was a time when I was younger and more sprightly (in the Olden Days) when I seemed to have limitless energy and would do school talks all throughout the year, whenever my booking agency asked me to. However it eventually got to the stage where I was spending more time talking about what I do than actually getting it done, so now I try to limit my public speaking gigs to one solid block around Book Week and do them all in one go.

I also do this because I am finding it harder and harder to change gears from my outward extroverted performer self to that quiet introverted self I need to create. Sometimes, even if I know I have a public speaking event in a week I have set aside to work on a book, I can often sense an underlying hum of agitation that stops me from completely losing myself in my work.

Having said all this I am also terribly grateful for all my school bookings and public speaking gigs because for many years they have provided the butter to put on my family's bread. Those writing books that describe the 'perfect writing life' are quite laughable really: A log cabin in the woods, long uninterrupted days with a glass of red wine and an intelligent adult conversation in the evenings before settling back down to work. I can only suppose that these people have very rich patrons and definitely no children because I certainly don't know any writers who have that kind of life. Even the most 'successful' ones. In fact the most successful writers I know, men and women, have worked the hardest and often juggled all kinds of things to be able to create a writing space for themselves. These are the writers who inspire me the most.

Faber Academy Writing For Children

2011-08-07T12:26:00.005+10:00

It's been hard to keep this to myself over the last few months but now everything has been confirmed I am able to share my exciting news.

Late last year The Faber Academy got in touch to see if I would be interested in teaching a course in Writing For Children. Even though I love teaching, I had recently given up my position at RMIT to spend more time on my own work, so I admit at first I was a little reluctant to commit myself to more teaching so soon. But after doing a little google-work and seeing all their other fabulous creative writing courses held in exotic locations led by jaw-droppingly impressive writers, my initial hesitation quickly faded.

The course will begin in February next year and will run for three months at the fabulous Donkey Wheel House (pictured - check out the link to see the great stuff they do). It's going to be a great course, lots fun, lots of reading and lots of workshopping, with guest speakers and excursions and lots of great discussions about kids lit. I can't wait!

Click here for all the course information and details on the application process.

Musical Picture Books

2011-07-27T22:08:00.005+10:00

Just a little taste of an extraordinarily beautiful adaptation of "The Night Garden", by Elise Hurst and "The Rainbirds", by David Metzenthen (illustrated by me.) This will be a wonderful family-friendly event held during the September school holidays, combining animation with live and recorded classical music.

So far I have only seen snippets of what will be the whole performance, but it has been incredibly exciting to see two of my favourite picture books brought to life. I can also tell you that this is a true labour of love by MRC education co-ordinator, MaryRose Harrison, musical director, Jo Beaumont and animator, Diana Ward, yet, at this stage there will only be one Melbourne performance - September 26th, at the Melbourne Recital Centre. So make sure you get your tickets! I will be there with as many children as I can drag along with me. I can't wait to see it all come together on the big screen!

Picture Books and Picasso

2011-07-18T13:06:00.004+10:00

Earlier this year, I was asked to write a short picture book text for an illustration competition run by the State Library to coincide with their children's book illustration exhibition: "Look! The Art of Children's Picture Books Today".

Each month, a new section of the story was released and children were invited to send in their interpretations of the text. It goes without saying that it was VERY difficult to choose the winning entries as the work was so diverse and so lovely and sometimes the other judges: author/illustrator Anna Walker and author/publisher Jane Godwin and I would disagree. But I think you'll agree that the finished books in all three age categories are simply stunning.

Click on this link to look at the e-book, and make sure you read all the way through as the different age groups are all bound up together.

As an illustrator, I find children's artwork constantly inspiring: the spontaneity of their line work, the freshness of their ideas. Looking at children's drawings helps loosen my rigid adult way of seeing the world. As Picasso once famously said: "All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up."

Reasons We Lie

2011-06-22T21:45:00.003+10:00

Speaking of lying, click here for a fascinating interview with psychologist Dorothy Rowe, recorded earlier this year at the Perth Writers' Festival.

The summary reads: "From everyday fibs to grand-scale public deception, renowned psychologist Dorothy Rowe explores the reasons we lie and constructions of truth."

It's an hour long interview but absolutely worthwhile and Dr Rowe is an inspirational woman.

Honest!

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

2011-06-16T15:57:00.006+10:00

Here is Aki's latest blog post about illustrating The Little Lie.

Some of these Billie stories stray so close to home it's almost embarrassing. Yes, I once cut my own hair, yes, I craved to be a teacher's pet, and, yes, I was known to make up the odd story once in a while... My poor parents. I can't tell you how many times they pulled out that old "Boy Who Cries Wolf" story in the hope of curing me of my... tendencies towards an overactive elaboration.

How could they have known that one day this is how I would make a living?

So, what's the biggest fib you've ever told?

A Week in Shanghai

2011-06-09T11:28:00.017+10:00

Well, I had all good intentions of posting lots of photos and updates while I was in Shanghai but of course had forgotten one teensy problem. Blogger, Facebook, Google, Youtube - all no-goes in China, despite the fact that anyone can pay for a computer program to circumnavigate the government's strict censorship laws. It still astonishes me that this country, so modern in so many ways, can still be so archaic when it comes to freedom of speech and access to information. But that's another day's rant... So, here are a few belated updates on my week in Shanghai.

Firstly, I spent three full days at Yew Chung International school, giving talks and running workshops with their primary students who were delightful. Yew Chung is completely bilingual, with all subjects being taught in Chinese and English. All the same, it was lots of fun to get kids drawing - a language that crosses all cultural boundaries.

Thursday morning was the official opening of the Australian Illustrator's exhibition at the Shanghai Children's Museum, where Ann James and Alison Lester were presented with portraits by an enthusiastic group of kindergarten students who had sat impressively still and quiet all throughout the long and formal speeches.

Then the weekend was busy at the Children's museum: Ann Haddon giving tours of the exhibition, Leigh Hobbs running Old Tom drawing classes, Ann James running painting workshops and me running collage workshops with local children and their parents, amazed that I still had enough rusty Chinese to get by.

After long days, evenings were spent wandering along the Bund, sipping cocktails at the Peace Hotel or gorging ourselves at restaurants, and we still managed to squeeze in some shopping whenever we had a free moment. So much so that I could hardly close my suitcase to come home.

I feel extremely lucky to have been a part of this wonderful exhibition and, judging by the enthusiasm of local parents, teachers and publishers, let's hope it paves the way for many more Australian-Chinese cultural exchanges to come.

Swimming With Stories

2011-05-27T12:15:00.005+10:00

This time next week I hope to be munching on dumplings in the steamy city of Shanghai with Leigh Hobbs, Alison Lester, Ann James & Ann Haddon (the fabulous Books Illustrated crew). It will have to be very quick munching though, as Ann and Ann have jam-packed our week with school bookings, teacher information evenings and, most importantly, lots of workshops with local kids at the Shanghai Children's Museum. Over the weekend of the 4th and 5th of June, the Anns will be showcasing a broad range of Australian illustrators at an exhibition at the museum called Swimming With Stories, while Leigh, Ann J and I run illustration workshops. Shaun Tan's 'The Lost Thing' will also be showing at the museum, just in case the Shanghainese weren't already impressed enough with all our Aussie talent on display. Goodness, I almost feel an oi! oi! oi! coming on! If I can squeeze in a free moment between dumpling-gorging and work, I'll try and post some pics.

A Father's Plea

2011-05-24T07:19:00.007+10:00

Last night, along with 700 others, I braved the rain and the cold to go to RMIT's Storey Hall to hear Dr Izzeldin Abuelaish interviewed by Jon Faine. Dr Abuelaish is a Palestinian doctor who was living in Gaza and practicing in a hospital in Israel treating both Israelis and Palestinians. In January 2009, three of his daughters were killed when Israeli tanks shelled their upstairs bedroom. (Click here to read more).

Despite his personal tragedy, Dr Abuelaish is a passionate advocate of peace. Listening to his heart-breaking story, this is the part that was the most profoundly moving. As my sister and I made our way out of Storey Hall to our tramstops in the cold wind and the drizzle, we agreed the most important message we could take away from Dr Abuelaish's powerful address was that the wish for peace wasn't a naive one. Despite feeling overwhelmed and powerless in the face of war and all the hate that rages throughout the world, Dr Abuelaish called on every one of us in that hall to hope for peace and to spread this message, to educate ourselves and our children and to make our votes count.

As Dr Abuelaish signed my book, wanting to find some small way to connect with this awe-inspiring man, I asked him if he would manage to squeeze in a little bit of a holiday while he was here. He looked up at me with weary eyes and said no, all he wanted was to get back to his children. Back home, walking quietly through my sleeping house, I lingered longer in the doorways of my own.

Sugar and Spice or Frogs and Snails? What Are Little Boys Made Of?

2011-05-23T09:52:00.006+10:00

Robyn and Alison both left very interesting comments on my last post and I found myself writing a very long and drawn-out reply, so I thought I may as well write another post in response. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and to continue this discussion.

Both Robyn and Alison wondered if the Billie books had been published with more gender-neutral covers if they may have attracted more boy readers. I discussed this with my publisher recently and she conceded that without the covers the Billie books may have been more appealing to boys, as Aki's internal illustrations are not particularly 'girly', nor are my stories.

But the more I think about this the more I am unsure if this would have made much difference.

All the research shows (and this includes the research I do with my own three sons!) that if there is a female on the cover - no matter what the colour scheme, design etc, many boys still won't pick it up. And publishers are very aware of this. For example, Suzanne Collins' 'Hunger Games' trilogy offers two alternative covers: one with Katniss (the female protagonist) and the other with Peeta (her male sidekick) to make sure they don't lose any prospective male readers. The Hunger Games trilogy is jam-packed with action and violence - themes usually associated with 'boys' fiction' - but has been hugely popular with both sexes.

So, in relation to this, the main question for me is why is it OK for a girl to be in touch with her 'masculine side' but not ok for a boy to be attracted to more 'feminine' things? Why is it that a little girl can wear pants and climb a tree but a little boy can't wear a skirt and play with dolls? And who determines what is a 'boy thing' and what is a 'girl thing' anyway?

My 8 year old son recently told me he was told off by his friends in class for using a pink texta and they insisted he change it to black. Is our cultural homophobia so great that an 8 year old boy can't even use a pink texta!? For me, this is where the true problem lies.

Is the Hungry Caterpillar a boy or a girl?

2011-05-18T12:03:00.007+10:00

Tune into the Book Show on Radio National* next Monday morning to hear Leigh Hobbs and I interviewed for a story on gender imbalance in children's literature.

This is an article that ran recently in the Guardian. To be honest, the story was an eye-opener. I have been reading a fair bit in blogs recently about gender imbalance in the adult publishing world (see Rachel Power's excellent post here) but hadn't considered it might be happening in children's publishing too.

As a children's author I aim to create strong female characters and sensitive boys to balance out the gender stereotypes that can often appear in kids' lit. Billie B Brown is probably the most obvious example, though looking over my body of work I notice that this combination appears regularly. As a mother of three sons, Billie is as much based on their childhoods as mine, though infuriatingly my 8 year old son explains that while he loves the stories he wouldn’t be caught dead reading them in public because there is a girl on the front cover (see Melvin Burgess’ comment in the Guardian article – a well-known truism among children’s authors). Admittedly, this is also partly due to the packaging and marketing of the Billie series, which is primarily directed towards girls.**

Returning to Burgess' comment, and in defense of the children's publishing industry, I think it is important to recognise that there has definitely been a recent push to try get boys hooked on books as, in general, girls are more inclined to read - and continue reading - whereas boys are often more reluctant. This might partly explain the disproportionate amount of males in contemporary children’s literature, even if it doesn't necessarily make the findings in the above article excusable. However, it's also important to remember that research shows that the most powerful way to get young boys reading – even more than creating books that “boys will like” or identify with – is for them to see their father reading. Or at least other males. Reading needs to be seen as something blokes do. Sadly, without this, boys will continue to assume that reading is a ‘girls’ activity and the children's publishing industry will have to continue to bend over backwards to try to attract boy readers any way they can.

*Or click here and I will add a link to the podcast after Monday.

**To counteract this I am currently in the process of creating a series of books from Billie’s best friend, Jack’s, point of view, which will still explore very similar themes, but from a boy's perspective. I will let you know my son's verdict when they come out.

More Aki sketches and a new Billie

2011-05-07T14:40:00.005+10:00

Click here for more gorgeous Aki sketches. I don't know about you but I never get sick of seeing Aki's work in progress. Thanks Aki for posting.

And here is a glimpse of the next Billie book due out next month.

"Billie has broken her arm! It's going to be the best story ever for Show and Tell. Especially if she adds in a crocodile..."

Ode To My Son

2011-05-03T10:01:00.005+10:00

Tomorrow my oldest son will turn eighteen. In honour of this momentous occasion I would like to share a few things I have learnt along the way:

1) Teenagers are not as scary as they look.

Having started young, most of my friend's children are still toddlers or in primary school. They ask me, "What is it like having a teenager?"

I answer, "It is still your child, just in a different body."

2) It doesn't matter how cool or young or hip you think you are, in your teenager's eyes you aren't. The sooner you accept this the better.

3) Even though he is now twice my height and shaves he still wants cuddles.

4) A houseful of boys soon becomes a houseful of men. (!)

5) Despite having birthed him and bathed him and fed him, and having lived with him for the greater part of the last eighteen years, I realise I only know, and can only ever know, one small part of my son.

This was brought into stark reality last Saturday night when, after eighteen years of avoiding the inevitable, I decided it was time for my son to have a proper birthday party. My son let me know that he would like to invite fifty (!) of his nearest and dearest, and as our home is a small as a matchbox (see point 4) we hired a dance studio above a Mexican Restaurant.

From the sidelines, I watched my son in awe as he chatted, danced (my son dances!) and later made a speech. Watching him speak in front of all his friends allowed me, for the first time, a glimpse of who my son is in the world. He was so funny and smart and confident. His friends laughed and cheered all throughout the speech and then embraced him at the end.

And I realised, at that moment, while there are times where I have been everything to him, there will also be times where I can only watch him from the sidelines, and hope that I have done enough things right for him to go out into this world without me.

More Aki pics and some exciting news

2011-04-25T08:14:00.006+10:00

Click here to see some more of Aki Fukuoka's gorgeous Billie sketches. This time for The Big Sister. I love seeing the way Aki's illustrations develop. I am such a fan of her work.

Recently, one of the Billie B Brown books, The Secret Message, was chosen for the 2011 Get Reading! campaign. This year's '50 Books You Can't Put Down' list features 35 Australian titles, with 13 of the 50 titles being children's/young adult books. This is obviously very exciting news, but for me, the best thing about this news is that Aki and I might get to do some gigs together and finally meet in person. Aki lives in New Zealand, so up until now we have only been able to correspond by email or through our blogs. Wouldn't it be fun if Aki and I could do some Billie events together? If this happens, I will definitely let you know. Fingers crossed!

Aki Fukuoka's preliminary sketches

2011-04-20T09:31:00.003+10:00

For anyone who is a fan of Aki Fukuoka's gorgeous Billie B Brown illustrations, click here to see her preliminary sketches for The Secret Message.

Billie, Blondie and Birthdays - or how to survive a party with a hundred and one six-year-olds.

2011-04-06T13:07:00.011+10:00

Who would have thought when I woke up last Sunday morning that later that very day I would be dancing to Blondie in The Victorian State Library with a sea of six-year-olds?

As part of the Wheeler Centre and State Library's inaugural Children's Book Festival, last Sunday we celebrated twelve months of Billie B Brown with a one year birthday party.

I was hoping for a good turn-out but had completely underestimated just how many excited little Billie fans I would encounter. It was a wonderful, if not slightly daunting, surprise. Immediately I began to worry about how on earth I was going to run all the party games I had planned when even getting all those dozens of kids to sit in one big circle nearly required a sheep-dog. But, we managed, and before long all the kids were sitting in an almost circle ready for the first game.

First up was pass-the parcel. But it was so noisy in that great big echoey Experimedia room jam-packed with excited children and parents that nobody could hear when the music stopped or started. The children were fabulous though and I am frankly quite amazed that the whole thing didn't end in tears.

Next, we played musical statues. But with so many more kids than I had anticipated, all of them grimly determined to win the prize, it took forever to eliminate the 'not winners'. Poor Jen, my publicist, was almost in tears herself after having to pull out kids each time the music stopped. Being a mother, I am made of tougher stuff. Having said that, we did actually end up with three winners but that was mainly because we ran out of time to play all the other games I had planned. Fortunately, I still managed to squeeze in a reading of The Birthday Mix-Up, though I think a 'shouting' would be a better description of what I did, and I'm still not sure that the kids in the back heard everything I said. Next time I will definitely request a mike!

It was a great day and hugely successful according to this article in The Age.

I finished up by signing what felt like hundreds of Billie books and meeting some adorable girls (and the odd boy) and their families.

So, thank you all so much for coming.

And hopefully see you all again next year when Billie turns two!

The POTS Club

2011-04-01T09:08:00.006+11:00

Being the eldest of three girls, it never occurred to me that I would have sons. I simply assumed I would have three daughters like my own mother did – but obviously things don’t always turn out as planned. So, instead of swapping clothes, shoes and secrets, I find myself grappling with muddy soccer boots, smelly socks and testosterone swings.

After my third son was born, a fellow parent of three sons said to me: ‘Welcome to the POTS club!’

‘POTS club?’ I asked.

‘Parents Of Three Sons,’ my friend explained.

‘So... what happens if you have decide to have another child?’ I asked.

My friend looked at me, shaking her head, sagely. ‘Nobody ever tries.’

Being a mother of three sons turns you into a particular kind of person. You bond very quickly with other families of boys. Only POTS understand the noise, space and quantity of food boys need. Staying with friends who aren’t POTS requires a huge amount of planning and preparation. You can’t exactly call it a holiday.

Once, I was foolish enough to take up the offer of childless friends in Sydney to stay at their place rather than rent a motel room. Despite the rotten weather that week, I felt obliged to take my sons outside all day and every day, to the local park to burn off energy. After all, watching three boys wrestling in the middle of the loungeroom floor doesn’t appeal to everybody. Particularly the childless. Then, at the end of each day, I would feed my boys loaves of bread in the car before we went in to dinner to fill them up so they wouldn’t wolf down our host’s beautifully prepared meals in two seconds flat. It was exhausting.

When you go away with POTS, it’s merely a question of working out how many trays of meat and boxes of Weet-bix you should bring. As long as you’re equipped with plenty of meat and carbs, as well as a couple of footballs, you know you’ll be right.

But there are wonderful things about raising boys, too. Many, many wonderful things. My eldest son turns eighteen this year, yet he is still so full of love and affection towards me. Every morning he lumbers out of his bedroom like some kind of reeking Frankenstein for his morning cuddle. He lopes around in saggy jeans and a beanie in the middle of summer looking like a hooligan, yet he will jump up from his seat on a tram for an old lady without any prompting. Future girlfriends: he also cooks a mean chicken curry and even cleans up after himself!

My middle son will be fifteen this year, but every afternoon when he gets home from school he takes his seven year old brother out into the garden, to dig for worms, take apart an old toy or build a birdhouse. Sometimes they even play dress-ups and my oldest son will film them and make hysterical movies we all watch together.

My grubby, wrestling little boys are growing into beautiful young men: funny and gentle and kind. Now I can’t imagine having three more lovely children. What’s more, while my once smug friends of daughters have begun complaining about their increasingly difficult relationships with their teenage girls, my sons continue to be exuberant, loving and uncomplicated.

So, for any other other POTS out there, don’t feel daunted. Despite what people may lead you to believe, being a parent of three sons can be extremely rewarding. Just as long as you feed them lots and take them outside to kick a footy around every once in a while.

(This piece was originally written for: mygogirl.com.au - a new parenting blog created by my Billie B Brown publishers, Hardie Grant Egmont)

Ten more sleeps!

2011-03-24T10:48:00.002+11:00

Only ten more sleeps! Hope you can come. Click here for more information about the Children's Book Festival.

B is for birthday!

2011-03-19T18:20:00.005+11:00

You are invited to a party!

When: Sunday April 3rd, 2.30 - 3pm

Where: At the Victorian State Library, Experimedia, as a part of the inaugural Children's Book Festival Family Day

Why: Billie B Brown will be celebrating her first birthday and the launch of her new book The Birthday Mix-Up.

Come along for games, activities, readings, book signings and lots more Billie fun...

Hope to see you there!

Ingredients for a happy Saturday

2011-03-05T10:28:00.004+11:00

My favourite way to begin the weekend: a cup of tea in bed with the Saturday Age. Extra sweet this morning to stumble across this lovely review:

"The angel in Sally Rippin's latest book is not the angel of current popular culture imaginings. While an entirely original creation, it's closer to David Almond's eerie 'Skellig' than to the mass-produced, cookie-cutter angels that are pouring out of so many mediocre writers. Rippin's angel is a mangy, feral being, wild and inarticulate, yet somehow beautiful.

Jelly has just moved with her mother, father and Nonna from the outer to the inner suburbs, into a new house that backs on to the Merri Creek in Melbourne's north. She's to start at a new high school in the new year and is on the cusp of great change. Christmas should be a respite, but when she and her cousins Gino and Pik find an injured angel in the creek and decide to rescue and heal it, the pace of change accelerates.

Nonna is taken to hospital, Jelly and Gino confront the local bullies, Jelly feels the butterflies of potential adolescent love, and all the while she is looking after this wild creature, thinking about what she wishes for.

Although the angel is fantasy, the novel is otherwise entirely realistic. Jelly is a finely portrayed pre-teen, and Rippin is equally adept at capturing subterranean emotion as she is at creating authentic family relationships and writing evocative descriptions of place.

This novel for children in the middle to upper years of primary school (older readers will appreciate it too) is anything but feral, mangy or inarticulate - it is as beautiful and mysteriously magical as the angel."

- Lorien Kaye, Saturday Age, March 5.

The Big Sister

2011-03-04T16:05:00.005+11:00

Poor little Billie, she has been rather overshadowed by Angel Creek this week. In all the excitement of the arrival of my newborn I completely forgot to mention that there is a brand new Billie out this week, too!

Oh well, like any big sister would know (sigh) it's all about the baby!

Angel Creek book launch

2011-02-28T11:41:00.004+11:00

Well, the big day has come and gone and hopefully my little books are flying out there carried by the warm strong winds of the most wonderful book launch I have been a part of - thanks to the marvellous people at The Little Bookroom and my fabulous cheer squad at Text. So many lovely faces and heartfelt, tear-inducing speeches - and cupcakes! With gold sprinkles! I have never made a cupcake in my life but I figured if I could write a book how hard could baking a cupcake be? For goodness sakes!

For any of you as daunted by baking as I am, the trick is: follow the recipe! It's amazing how well it works!

Today's Anatomy Of A Novel guest... is me!

2011-02-24T09:28:00.006+11:00

Angel Creek will be in bookstores as of next Monday and just to add to the excitement, the very lovely Simmone Howell has added me to her brilliant Anatomy of a Novel series. Check it out here.

Text have added some great teacher's notes to their website, too.

Home-made birthday presents are always the best

2011-02-21T16:38:00.004+11:00

It's my birthday today and look what my lovely son made me. It's a vast improvement on those pasta necklaces. I never could find a dress that went with macaroni!

Oh those troublesome books again!

2011-02-18T09:30:00.005+11:00

Always nice to see YA books making the news. Less so when would be book banners start raising their fists again. Compared to some countries, Australia seems to have a very healthy attitude towards diverse and challenging YA and children's books. It's very rare to hear stories of Australian parents or teachers gluing the pages of sticky sex scenes together or burning Harry Potter books at the stake. (Although admittedly local YA author, Robyn Bavati, recently found herself defending her YA novel, Dancing in the Dark, against a group of outraged adults in the Jewish community.)

So, it was surprising to see this article appear in yesterday's Age (17/2). Fortunately, there was an excellent response swiftly published in today's Age (18/2). Let the debate begin, I say! Your thoughts?

Pretty in Pink or How I Wished I Was John Hughes' Love Child

2011-02-14T21:08:00.006+11:00

I am going through a big 80s phase at the moment. It might have something to do with watching my own son hurtle through his teenage years (can he really be turning 18 in a couple of months?), but recently I have been having terrible cravings for John Hughes movies. As a teenager, I adored these films. John Hughes seemed to understand teenagers in a way that no parent or teacher ever could.

I was almost too afraid to go back and watch all my teenage favourites: Pretty In Pink, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, in case with my cynical adult eyes I would be disappointed; they hold such a dear place in my heart. But I have to say I have loved revisiting every minute of them. The clothes! (as a teenager I modelled myself on Molly Ringwald - pictured), the music! (Simple Minds, Spandau Ballet, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark), but most importantly the characters. John Hughes knew how to create a guy you couldn't help but fall in love with. Whether it was the wounded bad boy (Judd Nelson) in The Breakfast Club, the sensitive rich boy in Pretty in Pink (Andrew McCarthy) or the heart-breakingly obsessive nerd (Jon Cryer - pictured) or Sixteen Candles (Anthony Michael Hall). Even though you knew Molly was better off without any of them, every one of his characters had me aching, then and now.

It's hard to believe with such an overwhelming plethora of Young Adult books available today, that this genre was still cutting its teeth when I was a teenager. You could almost count the YA authors on one hand, but there was some great stuff being produced in film as well as literature. Like many teenagers, my parents quickly became obsolete once I realised they didn't know half of what they claimed to and a lot less about teenagers than they thought they did. As far as I'm concerned, it was John Hughes and Judy Blume who got through my teenage years. Even if the stories they told were a world away from my own reality.

Don't worry, I'm sure my own teenage son feels the same way about me. I only wish I could know who his substitute parents are.

But that's his story.

Internet-free Sundays: Day One

2011-02-07T19:37:00.006+11:00

Well, we survived our first Full Family Internet-Free Sunday (or FFIFS, as I might begin to fondly call it.) The Sunday after I set the challenge didn't really count because my two older boys were away for the weekend so last Sunday was officially 'Day One' with all my boys in tow. After the first few 'What are we doing today?' and 'I'm bored' conversations and a few irritable retorts from me, here are three unexpectedly lovely things that happened:

1) We went to a Chinese New Year garden party and my 17 year old son decided to join us. Normally, he'd stay at home and just sit on the internet all day, but as that option was out of the equation, I guess he figured even a garden party full of uninteresting adults would be better than staying at home on his own. Outcome: I got a full three hours out of them before the 'when are we going' chants started up. Gosh, teenagers! They can be rattier than two-year-olds!

2) I had some leftover Chinese dumpling mix and wonton skins that didn't get used up at the party so when I got home I started making dumplings for our dinner. With nothing else to do my three sons sat around the table and helped me. Voluntarily. And we CHATTED. Yep, nothing short of a miracle. But the best is yet to come.

3) Not having two hundred and fifty-three friends waiting for them to hurry up and finish their dinner and get back online meant that my sons sat at the table until even I had finished eating! And then - yes, this is the part you've been waiting for - we played a board game. No, not Twister - I just put that image up there to make you laugh. Scattegories. It was almost fun. Except I noticed that my oldest son was particularly aggressive and competitive and sometimes seemed a little out to get me. But - hey - it's only day one. They're bound to be a bit jittery the first few days. Baby steps.

Chinese painting workshops for kids

2011-02-04T20:36:00.007+11:00

Happy New Year of the Rabbit!

If you haven't yet been to the Look! exhibition and you are interested in kids' books, particularly the illustrations, I suggest you get yourselves down to the State Library and wander through this inspiring exhibition. I'm sure you'll find plenty of your favourite picture books and illustrators on display. I even have a couple of illustrations in the show - from my very first picture book, 'Fang Fang's Chinese New Year'.

While you are there, don't forget to watch the video presentation towards the back of the exhibition, where several picture book artists talk about the techniques they use in their work. Here's a shortcut. (Scroll down to the bottom of the screen to see the three minute videos.)

In conjunction with the exhibition, the State Library are running free workshops for kids over several weekends. I am teaching two Sundays of Chinese brush and ink workshops later this month. If you have kids who think might like to try something new, book them in!

The details are below:

Painting with Sally Rippin

Date:

Sunday 13 February 2011, 11:00am - 12:00pm

Sunday 13 February 2011, 1:00pm - 2:00pm

Sunday 20 February 2011, 11:00am - 12:00pm

Sunday 20 February 2011, 1:00pm - 2:00pm

Cost: Free

Email: bookings@slv.vic.gov.au

Tel: 03 8664 7099

Venue: Queen's Hall, Level 3

Join Sally Rippin to explore the art of Chinese brush-and-ink painting. Make your own pictures using ancient techniques that are fun to do, and learn about Chinese art and culture.

Recommended for children aged five to 12 years.

And here it is!

2011-02-01T18:57:00.004+11:00

Just received my preview copies Angel Creek in the post today. SO exciting! I love the cover with its shiny gold bits. The gold doesn't show up well on a scanner, so here is a very ordinary iphone snap of it on my bedspread, nevertheless capturing it in all its shiny glory.

Only twenty-eight sleeps til it's out in the world! Yay!

Last night down by the Merri Creek

2011-01-29T21:42:00.004+11:00

This is the story I wrote for The Age last summer, which became the inspiration for my children's novel "Angel Creek". I have been working on "Angel Creek" all year, and next week I will hold a finished copy in my hands. For such a small book, it has had a long history.

I had been struggling for over three years with various incarnations of angel stories and had recently discarded a second YA novel that just wasn't working. As well as all the thousands of words and enormous amount of time lost, so too was my confidence diminishing. Writing a novel about angels was proving to be far more difficult than I had first thought.

Why angels? I promise my obsession began long before the publication of the Stephanie Meyer series and the successive paranormal romance boom. In fact, if anything, this sudden interest in all things otherworldly only made me lose faith in what I was doing all the more. I definitely didn't want to be seen as a band-wagon-jumper-onner!

The truth is I had become obsessed with the idea of creating young angels symbolic of a severely repressed adolescence, almost Amish-like, and what would happen once they were let loose in a godless world. But two novel drafts later, I still hadn't managed to make my story work. So, last summer, when I was asked to write a story for The Age again, my head was still full of angels. To brainstorm a fresh story, I took my youngest son for a walk along the Merri Creek. And it was from a walk with my seven-year-old, seeing the world through his eyes, that this story was born.

Last Night Down by the Merri Creek

Pik, Gino and I climb over my back fence and shimmy down the bank towards the Merri Creek. It’s Christmas Eve. This year we’ve had rain and the creek is flowing fast, and all the rubbish from the city is pushed up onto the banks or caught up in the reeds.

Gino’s the first to take off his shoes. ‘Look at all this junk,’ he calls. ‘Bet there’s some cool stuff here.’ He walks along the riverbank lifting up tangles of plastic and string with the end of his stick. There’s a road bridge up ahead and the streetlamps light up the path. Not under the bridge though. At night the tunnel yawns blackly like the mouth of a beast.

‘Hey, let’s go in,’ Gino dares.

‘Cool,’ Pik says, but I can see he doesn’t want to. Me neither, but I’m not going to let them think I’m scared just coz I’m a girl.

We follow Gino along the bank towards the tunnel. A car clacks across the bridge but otherwise there’s no one around. Over the noise of the cicadas we can still hear our parents in my backyard, laughing loud and silly.

At the mouth of the tunnel, Pik and I hesitate as we watch Gino swallowed up by the dark. But then his voice calls out, ‘Not scared are ya?’ and I grab Pik’s hand and pull him in behind me.

After a while I can make out Gino’s form crouching by the water. He turns and beckons to us, then puts his finger on his lips for us to be quiet.

‘What is it?’ I whisper.

‘Dunno. Some bird, I think. Caught up in the rubbish.’

‘Don’t scare it,’ I say. ‘Maybe we can get it out?’

‘Gimme your stick,’ Gino says.

I hand Gino the stick and crouch down by the water’s edge to watch. Pik crouches next to me. I can hear his breathing.

Gino leans out across the water and hooks the end of the stick under a pale-coloured wing. It’s huge. I know all the birds that hang around the creek and I’ve never seen a wing that big. The bird flaps frantically and the three of us fall back onto our bums, laughing nervously. I’m trying not to laugh too loud coz I’m worried about that poor bird. I’m hoping we can save it.

‘Maybe we should get Dad to help?’ I say. ‘Or wait till tomorrow?’

‘It’ll be dead by tomorrow,’ Gino says. ‘Come on.’ He begins to wade out into the water. The creek is flowing fast and I know that I am breaking every rule my parents have ever given me by letting this happen. I look at Pik before I step into the icy water and see the whites of his eyes in the dark. Mud oozes up through my toes as I wade out after him. Gino is close to the bird now, which seems to be trapped behind a rock. As I approach, he bends down to study it. Suddenly, he reels back, arms like windmills. ‘Oh my god!’ he gasps. ‘It’s not a bird!’

I feel my heart thump about wildly in my chest. I don’t want to believe him but something in his voice has turned my skin cold. I peer over the stone into the rushing water and in the shadowy depths I see the pale, pale face of a young boy staring up at us. His eyes are like glass.

‘I’m getting Dad,’ Gino says. He is already striding back through the water and I hear the fear snag his voice. On the bank, Pik starts to bawl. I can’t take my eyes off the boy’s face. I know I should feel frightened but somehow I can’t turn away.

‘Get my dad, too,’ I say. ‘I’ll stay here. Hurry!’

I hear the squelch of their feet as Gino and Pik leave the tunnel and run back along the creek. I turn away from the boy’s face to examine the tangled wing. Something is not making sense. Then, I understand. I call out to Gino and Pik but they are already too far away and my voice ricochets around the tunnel over the noise of the rushing water.

The angel looks up at me with frightened eyes. I perch on the rock to steady myself and try to unwrap some of the rubbish caught around the wing. But when I pull at the plastic, his other wing comes thrashing out of the water. I let go. ‘Hey,’ I say softly. ‘Keep still. I’m trying to help you.’ I stroke his feathers and the angel stares back at me, his peaked chest palpitating like a frightened bird.

Looking more closely I see that one end of the plastic is caught around the rock. I take hold of it and unwind it carefully, my hands dipping in and out of the creek. The angel keeps still, looking up at me through the murky water, its eyes bright and wild. There is only one last piece to go and the angel will be free.

The water in front of me rears up, there is a flash of light and for an instant I am blinded. I hear a whoosh of wings and he is gone. In the distance I hear the voices of my dad and the others running towards the tunnel as a single white feather spins slowly down into my lap.

They never believe my story. Not Mum, not Dad, not even Gino and Pik. But I still have that feather. And no one’s ever found a bird that matches it.

There's gonna be a revolution!

2011-01-27T15:18:00.006+11:00

My middle son, who is fourteen, has just inherited his older brother's laptop. Within only a matter of weeks he has become addicted to facebook. Some nights I get up to go to the loo and, even though I've asked him to turn his computer off hours ago, he is still sitting up in bed awake, on facebook.

As it's still the school holidays, this hasn't been too much of a problem because I know he can sleep in the next morning, and during the day I can monitor how much time he spends on his computer. But school starts back soon and I knew I'd have to get this addiction under control by then. So, one night I lay awake in bed worrying (as I'm prone to do) about how I could make sure he turned his computer off at night. I don't have anything against him chatting to his friends on facebook - but until two in the morning? I don't think so.

Then (as can often happen at night, along with all the worrying about what a bad mother I am) I had a stroke of genius. The wireless router is in our bedroom! All I had to do was SWITCH IT OFF AT THE WALL! Incredible! With one flick of the switch: no internet! (Don't worry, I can't believe how it took me so long to come up with that one either!)

So, the next evening after dinner I broke it to my teenage sons. Sons, I told them, every night starting that very evening I was going to switch the wireless off at the wall at 10pm. And, just because I was feeling cocky, I threw in another challenge: not only that, but I had decided that we were going to have wireless-free Sundays. Every Saturday night at 10pm, the wireless connection would be switched off at the wall and only come on again on Monday mornings. For one whole day a week, none of us would be able to lose hours of time and precious brain cells on youtube watching cats do stupid things. We would be liberated!

I looked at my sons expecting them to dissolve into hysterics or smash something against the wall but they just shrugged. I was astounded. Hmm... perhaps they thought I was bluffing? After all my 17 year old son told ME off for checking facebook messages on my iphone at the table the other day! I know. It was a new low.

Perhaps they think I will suffer more them? After all, the new rule was going to test out my resolve as much as theirs. But somehow I sensed my sons were almost relieved. My eldest has already admitted he hates how much time he spends on the computer, but since his grandmother brought him his own laptop two years ago it sits in his room like a magnet, tempting him, luring him in to facebook-youtube-blog-land (as it does to me!) Now, on Sundays, our laptops will become just a lifeless piece of junk and our lives can open up to: conversations! walks in the park! board games! I am half thrilled at the prospect, half terrified.

This Sunday will be our first. I'll keep you posted. Who knows? If it's a success, I might even push for wireless-free weekends.

Now THAT'S revolutionary!

Short Story no.2

2011-01-23T08:03:00.007+11:00

The second story I was asked to write for the Sunday Age came with a new challenge. This time the editor wanted to publish a two-part story for children over two Sundays. This is harder than it sounds. I knew that each story would have to feel fully resolved enough not to be frustrating for the reader but that I would also need a cliffhanger at the end of part one to make my reader want to read the second part.

Then the second part would have to give the reader a brief summary of the first part in case they hadn't read the story the week before. A bit like a TV episode really - but all within 8oo words per story! And a very tight deadline, of course.

So, as it was summer I set out to write a story that felt like it contained the essence of my childhood summers. Of barefoot kids going feral, making gangs, sussing out newbies and inventing dares. This is it.

Old Hannah’s Hut.

PART ONE:

At the top of Blind Man’s Bluff, at the end of a rocky, winding track, there is a falling down old hut like a crumbling piece of gingerbread. Nobody takes the track right to the end of the Bluff, even though it’s the shortest route to the beach because everybody knows that Old Hannah Stringbean lives in that hut.

And everybody knows that Old Hannah Stringbean eats children.

Last summer, Billy O’Donohue dared the new kid three footy cards and a bag of mixed lollies to take the shortcut to the beach past Old Hannah’s hut. The new kid, Emilio Something-Or-Other, had floppy black hair and a crooked smile and he looked like the kind of kid I’d like to be friends with. But only Billy O’Donohue talks to the newbies ’cause his dad runs the caravan park. Billy is the boss of our gang.

It’s easy to tell the difference between the newbie kids and us locals because newbies are usually pale and blotchy and they squint into the sun. But Emilio was different. He had dark skin like ours and his eyes were like the smooth black trading stones us kids dig out from Dead Man’s Creek. Nobody knew where he came from or where he was staying. He sure wasn’t a parkie or Billy would’ve known everything about him. He got me dead curious. Sometimes I would see him watching us from a distance with those dark stone eyes while we did our gang things.

So one day Billy gave him the dare.

On the day of the dare there was no wind. This is unusual for the bluff. Down on the beach you’re protected from the wind by the cliff face that towers above like a great hulking ogre. But up on the bluff you have to walk close to the ground, bent forward like a hairpin, so as not to be swept over the edge. Usually us Bluff kids take the long way to the beach, round the cliff edge and past the caves. It’s a horrible, blustery walk, and your calves get all scratched up by the blackberry bushes, but nobody ever takes the shortcut past Old Hannah’s hut.

Us kids would rather get scratched up than eaten any day.

We all gathered at the track, Billy, me, and the rest of the gang. Even the twins were there and they never usually come up to the bluff. Billy stood facing Emilio, who flicked his long black fringe out of his eyes. I liked the way he stood there, all silent and still like a tree, with the rest of us all jumping around and jittery.

Suddenly, three footy cards and a measly pack of mixed lollies didn’t seem like something worth dying for. I wondered if I should warn Emilio about Old Hannah. But Billy shot me a fierce warning look before taking Emilio’s outstretched hand.

‘See you down at the beach then?’ Billy said to Emilio. He squeezed the newbie’s smooth dark palm in his suntanned freckly one.

Emilio nodded.

We watched him saunter down the track until he came to the giant paperbark, which was the furthest that any of us had ever dared to go. There Emilio paused. And did the strangest thing. Even though I was standing right at the back of the gang and was the furthest person away from him, Emilio looked me right in the eye. Only for a second, then he was gone.

One of the twins began to cry.

I knew then that it was up to me to save him. I looked at Billy who was standing with his arms tightly crossed, carefully watching the tree in case Emilio reappeared. Billy’s face twitched in disbelief and awe. I had to think fast. I guessed it was only a matter of minutes before Emilio would arrive at Old Hannah’s hut. An idea came into my head.

‘How do we know he sticks to the path and doesn’t just cut through the bush?’ I said to Billy.

Billy screwed up his face, thinking.

‘One of us has to go after him to check that he’s not cheating,’ I said.

‘Well I’m not going!’ Billy said and he glowered at the twins who trembled in fear.

Everyone in the gang spoke quickly, nominating someone else for the job. I couldn’t say anything or it would look suspicious but I knew it was only a matter of time before somebody nominated me.

‘Carla should go!’ one of the twins squeaked. ‘She’s the oldest!’ and suddenly everyone joined in: ‘Yes, Carla should go!’

‘Great!’ I sighed. ‘Typical! You owe me big time, Billy O’Donohue!’ I yelled as I jogged down the track.

Around the bend Old Hannah waited in her hut.

*********

PART TWO

I ran down the track towards Blind Man’s Bluff. As I approached the giant paperbark, shedding long strips like sunburnt skin, I turned to look back at the gang. They were clustered together, motionless, mouths open, watching me in disbelief. Around the bend, at the end of the track, was the falling down hut where Old Hannah Stringbean sat waiting hungrily for any foolish kid to wander past. And now I was heading straight for it. All because of a stupid dare.

Old Hannah had been the source of all our nightmares for years. Billy O’Donohue had a cousin who knew a girl who had wandered into Old Hannah’s hut and had never come out again. The girl had been a newbie. She hadn’t known better. All us local kids knew that Old Hannah ate children.

Behind the hut, carved into the steep cliff-face, were the steps that provided the shortcut to the beach. Nowadays, since Old Hannah had moved in, if you met up with the gang at the Bluff Caravan Park, you had to go back along the main road and past the shops, which took ages, or skirt along the cliff to get to the beach. Nobody was game to take the steps behind Old Hannah’s hut any more.

I looked around. Emilio was nowhere in sight. I peered down the track into the dense bushland. There squatted the crumbling old hut. Two dark windows glowered at me. I crept slowly along the path, my heart pounding in my ears. In the distance I could hear the surf crashing against the cliff below. Sheltered by the steep incline was a little beach with snowy white sand and speckled pink cowrie shells. This beach belonged to our gang. It was the hardest beach to get to, but the only private place for us locals to meet when The Bluff swarmed with tourist kids over the summer. It was our secret beach. No newbies allowed. That’s where Billy and the gang would be waiting. I wondered how long they’d wait. Twenty minutes? An hour? A day?

I thought about Emilio then who, with his dark skin and darker eyes, seemed so different from all the other newbies, and how he had just turned up this summer from nowhere, hanging around our gang, watching us, and suddenly I knew why he had agreed to Billy’s stupid dare. If Emilio made it to the beach without being eaten by Old Hannah Stringbean, he would be the first newbie in the history of us Bluff kids to be accepted into our gang. I prayed that he had found another way through the bush. That Old Hannah hadn’t taken him. I had to make sure.

Ten more steps and I would be at the hut. Then seven, then five. I paused. From here I could almost see through the windows into the darkness of its belly. Those windows watched me hungrily. I tried to calm my heartbeat so that I could hear above its pounding. Was that the sound of crunching bones? Was Old Hannah feasting on poor Emilio? I should have never allowed the dare to take place. I should have stood up to Billy O’Donohue once and for all. If I made it through this, I wouldn’t listen to Billy O’Donohue ever again. Nobody would. If I made it to the beach alive, I would make myself leader of our gang. And Emilio would be second in charge. After all, I was the oldest. Who did Billy O’Donohue think he was? Just ’cause his dad ran the caravan park. That didn’t make him boss.

I took a deep breath and crawled up to the window to peer into the hut. There sat Old Hannah, with her back to me. Her long grey hair snaked down her hunched shoulders. She seemed to be gnawing on something. I felt faint with fear. I wanted to run away, but I had to know if Emilio was in there. As I watched, Old Hannah slowly pushed her chair back and stood. I leapt up. But then, before I could run away, I caught sight of someone sitting at the table across from her. I gasped. It was Emilio! As my mouth dropped open, he saw me and smiled. Striding over to wrench open the door he called out to me, where I stood frozen.

‘Carla!’ he called. ‘You took your time! Come in and meet my grandmother!’

********

My first Sunday Age story

2011-01-16T09:14:00.015+11:00

The first time I was asked to write a children's story for the Sunday Age I was given some fairly strict parameters.

The editor had chosen three children's authors to write the stories. Andy Griffiths was doing humour and Alison Lester was doing a mermaid story, so could I please write something urban, preferably a school-setting, with a multicultural slant? Um, OK. In a week to arrive on your desk before Christmas? No problems. (eek!)

As it actually turns out I don't mind a bit of pressure, and as I've mentioned before, I love working within boundaries. I've noticed when I run writing workshops with kids, that they do, too. If you give a bunch of kids a pen and paper and say 'Write a story' they will all stare at you blankly, but if you say 'Write a story about a dragon, or a mud-fight, or the the most embarrassing thing you remember' you barely get the last word of your sentence out before they are madly scratching away. I'm the same. Give me some parameters and I can reign that wandering mind of mine in enough to know where to start.

I knew that I was being asked to write a multicultural story because I had published quite a few children's books with Asian-Australian characters, the 'Fang Fang' stories being the most well-known. Having grown up in South-East Asia myself, changing schools every two years and often arriving in a place where no one around me spoke English, I am often drawn to stories of 'the outsider'. I was more than happy to explore this theme again. However, because I knew Andy and Alison were getting to write funny and magical stories I was very wary of my story seeming all PC and earnest, so I decided to toss in a little magic myself.

This is my story:

The Wish

I walk out of the bedroom in my new school uniform and everybody cheers. Ma, Ba, Auntie May and Uncle Di. Even Nai Nai looks up from the television for a moment to clap her papery old hands together. Only cousin Betty sits in the corner of the lounge room and rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

“Aiya! So pretty!” Aunty May screeches, pinching my cheeks so hard that my eyes water. “Better than the Chinese school uniforms, huh? So much easier to clean.”

I tug Ma’s arm and pull her to one side. “Ma, please don’t make me go,” I beg. I’m trying not to cry in front of Cousin Betty but my throat feels so tight it’s like I’ve swallowed an orange.

“You’ll be fine Little Pumpkin Gourd,” Ma says, calling me by my Shanghainese name. "Cousin will look after you, won't you Magnificent Treasure?"

My cousin sighs. “They call me Betty, here, Auntie,” she says shaking her head and looking at Ma like she’s just a squashed up old dim-sim on the road.

I don’t like the way my cousin talks to my parents. We were all born in the same place. Just because she has lived in Australia for three years and can speak English doesn’t mean she’s suddenly grown an extra brain.

“OK, everyone in the car,” Uncle Di says, clapping his hands together and we all bustle towards the door. I drag my feet but Ma’s hand is like a claw in my back.

“Don’t make me lose face in front of your Auntie May,” she hisses in my ear.

Suddenly, Nai Nai makes a noise. Everyone turns around surprised because Nai Nai rarely talks. She just sits in front of the TV watching the ads all day and sipping thimble-sized teacups of bitter black herbs. Nai Nai raises a shaky arm and points at me. I look at Ma who puts the claw back into my back, but this time pushes me towards Nai Nai.

Betty groans. “We’ll be late! Just ignore her.”

“Let Nai Nai wish her grand daughter well on her first day of Australian school,” Auntie scolds. Betty huffs and stomps out the front door towards the car.

I shuffle over to Nai Nai’s couch and she grabs my hand in both of hers. Her fingers are knobbly and worn and as smooth as polished rosewood. She slips something into my palm. I look down at the tiny silk pouch embroidered with red and green dragons.

“Thanks Nai Nai,” I say. “What is it?”

Nai Nai leans in close and I can smell her musty breath. “A wish,” she says. Then the ads come on again and she pushes me towards the front door.

Fifteen minutes later Betty and I tumble out of the car in front of my new school, the sound of both our parents calling out well-wishes in our ears. Betty walks beside me for a moment, but as soon as the car is out of view she runs on ahead and is quickly lost in the sea of children.

I wander over to a bench and sit in the shade of a tree that smells like pepper and lemons. Kids run back and forth happy to see each other after the long holidays. Everyone seems to know somebody. I can’t see anyone sitting on their own. I miss my friends in Shanghai and picture them riding their bikes to school in the snow.

A bell rings and all the kids run in one direction. I see Betty in the distance and jog to catch up with her. All my new books rattle around in my backpack. I stand behind her in the line but she won’t turn around to look at me. A teacher walks up to us and asks me something in English that I can’t understand. Then she looks towards Betty to translate. That was the deal. But Betty just turns to me and smiles sweetly before saying in Chinese, “Onions and pig’s breath and toenails.” Then she turns back towards the teacher who nods, satisfied, and walks back up to the front of the line.

That’s when I feel those salty tears prickle my eyes again. I put my hand in my pocket where the silk pouch is hidden and think about turning Betty into dog poo or a tadpole or smelly green slime, but the fact is that I need her. Betty is horrible, but not as horrible as being completely alone in a brand new school when I can’t even understand what people are saying. I can’t imagine how things could possibly get worse, but they do. Much, much worse.

In class, Betty has to sit next to me but she won’t look at me at all. Instead she whispers to the girls on her other side who stare at me and giggle. I can’t even do my work because Betty translates anything the teacher says into nonsense until at the end of class the teacher comes over looking quite annoyed that I haven’t even opened my books. All I can do is concentrate on not crying. The teacher stands over me exasperated until I can bear it no longer and I pull the silk pouch out of my pocket to wish myself back into my classroom in Shanghai.

Then suddenly Betty grabs the pouch from my hands.

"Where did you get that?" she snaps in Chinese.

“Give it back!” I shout. “It’s mine!” I reach over the desk to grab at my wish and all my books topple loudly to the floor.

The teacher throws her arms up in exasperation then puts her hand out to Betty. Betty looks at me smugly and plops the little silk pouch with my wish inside it into the teacher’s outstretched palm. Then the teacher clip-clops angrily back to the front of the class. The bell rings. Betty runs outside with the other students.

When everyone has gone I let those tears slide right down my face and drop onto my desk. I have never felt more alone. I look at all my brand new books on the floor and my scratchy new school uniform and even though I know my parents have been saving for three years for us to move to Australia where the streets are wide and clean and the children all go to university I know I can never be happy here and the thought makes those tears slide down all the more.

Suddenly I hear someone come into the room. I am so busy trying to wipe my tears away that I don’t see her until she is standing right in front of me. I recognise her as the girl who was sitting behind me in class.

“Hello?” I offer because it’s the only word I know in English, but to my surprise, she answers in Chinese. I haven’t heard Chinese spoken that way before but she looks a lot like me and suddenly my heart soars.

“I’ve got something for you,” she says, smiling, and to my surprise, she pulls the little silk pouch out of her pocket and puts it on my desk.

“I can’t believe it! How did you get it back?” I ask.

“I explained to Mrs Hutcher that you needed it for your asthma. So just make sure you cough every now and then, OK?”

I laugh and she does too.

“Aiya, that Betty is horrible,” she says, shaking her head. “How’d you get stuck with her?”

“She’s my cousin,” I sigh. “Mum sent me to the same school so that she could translate for me until I learn English.”

“Well, I think you’d be better off sitting next to me,” the girl says. “You’re not going to learn much from your cousin are you? Don’t worry, you’ll pick up English quickly. I did. My Chinese name is Small Pickle. Yeah, I know. Terrible, isn't it? But my friends here call me Sammy. So, what’s in the pouch anyway?”

“Nothing,” I say.

And it’s true. I open it up and the faintest whisper of blue smoke drifts towards the window.

I think I used it well.

*****

Then, because I grew rather attached to Little Pumpkin and wasn't quite ready to let her go, I eventually turned my story into this:

My two oldest sons did the beautiful bird illustrations that head each chapter of the book. Here's one of them.

Gorgeous, huh?

Then we dedicated the book to our French-Australian friends, The Short Family, who have voyaged back and forth across the oceans as much as we have.

So, this book, little as it is, ended up being quite a special one for me.

Short stories and blue-speckled eggs

2011-01-09T09:45:00.010+11:00

I have a children's story in the Sunday Age newspaper today.

I love short stories. I wrote short stories for years before I even considered embarking on my first novel. They are how I learned to write. As a young mother in the suburbs (nearly eighteen years ago!), they were my little windows of creativity. My eldest son had long afternoon sleeps as a baby - sometimes up to three hours. I would carry an idea for a story around in my head all morning while I did housework or shopped or attended to his needs. Then, the minute he was asleep, I would rush to my computer and the story would spill out of me like a fever. I trained myself to write 3000 words in two hours. They were my lifeline. Dozens and dozens of them were written over those years. Some of them stored on floppy disks (remember them?) that can never be retrieved. But that doesn't matter. It was the act of writing that was most important - not the outcome.

I continue to write short stories just for the pleasure of it. And the training they give me as writer. Those short sharp episodes. The practice of efficiency. Glimpses into a lit window, then off again. Occasionally, if I'm asked to provide a story for a publication, I might pull out one of those stories, dust it off. Rework it or shorten it or lengthen it depending on the required word count. None of the stories, that writing practice, is ever wasted.

Over the last few years, The Sunday Age has asked me to provide a children's story for their summer edition. The deadlines are always tight, the stories always need to be written in that frantically busy period just before Christmas, and I always wonder if I'll be able to come up with something in time. Then, when I create that little space in my busyness, sit down and begin, I am reminded all over again what a joy writing short stories can be. Occasionally I might be given some guidelines: word length, themes, but these boundaries only stimulate my imagination all the more - give me something to press against.

Then, of course, there's the excitement of seeing my story in the paper. Of course I buy copies for my parents, too. I don't know if the excitement of seeing my name in the paper will ever wear off. But even more exciting are the letters that come afterwards from my young readers. For two of my short stories, the letters I received were so inspiring that I was encouraged to turn them into children's novels. One of them became a Penguin Chomp titled, 'Just One Wish'. The other is the basis for my latest novel, 'Angel Creek', due out in February.

So, for those of you, who don't receive The Age newspaper, I have posted today's story below. If I can find them all, I will post the other stories over the next few weeks.

The Egg-Sitter.

Did I ever tell you about the time I found an egg in my garden? No, not a bird’s egg. Nothing like that. Much bigger. The size of a watermelon and covered in pale blue spots. Right in the middle of my veggie patch. While I was standing there looking at the egg, wondering where it had come from, and what clumsy critter had trampled all over my tomato plants, there was a knock on my front door.

I wasn’t expecting anyone. It was that dead time between Christmas and New Year and finally I had some peace and quiet to work on my novel. Instead I was distracted and disturbed by that egg. And now an unexpected visitor. I opened the door.

‘Ahem,’ came a gruff voice. ‘Someone called about an egg?’

I looked down and there, standing on my front door mat, was a stout little man in a three-piece suit. Only as high as my knee. Standing there looking up at me, his hands crossed over his round belly.

He cleared his throat again. ‘Erhm…the egg?’

‘Oh!’ I said, startled out of my staring. ‘Um, yes, I do have an egg, as a matter of fact. It’s out the back.’

He followed me through my kitchen and into the garden. ‘Who told you it was here?’ I asked him.

‘Sorry, Madam. I don’t get given that kind of information. Just get told where my next job is.’

He handed me a crisp white business card, with gold lettering.

It read:

Poulterkin and Sons

Egg-sitters since 1801

No egg too big or too small

And, sure enough, when I looked up from the card, the little man was climbing up onto the egg and making himself comfortable.

‘So… ‘ I said. My day was getting stranger and stranger. ‘You’re here to sit on that egg…’

‘Until it hatches.’

‘Until it hatches. Of course. How long exactly do you think that will take?’

The little man shrugged. ‘Hard to tell, really.’

‘Right. Well. Are you okay if I get back to work then?’

‘Don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘Just pretend I’m not here.’

But this proved extremely difficult. My studio looks out over the garden, and every time I lifted my eyes from the computer screen, there he was. That little man. Sitting on that big egg in the blazing sun. I sighed, pushed back from my desk and strolled outside.

‘I was thinking of making myself a sandwich and a cup of tea. Would you like something?’

‘Oh, that’s terribly kind of you. I was in such a rush to get here this morning I didn’t have time for breakfast.’

‘Great!’ I said. ‘Ham, cheese and tomato, okay?’

‘Oh,’ he said, reddening. ‘I don’t eat ham. Or cheese. And I’m not very keen on tomatoes, to tell you the truth. Would you happen to have any honey?’

‘Sure. One honey sandwich coming up.’

‘White bread?’

‘White bread. How do you take your tea?’

‘White with ten.’

‘Sorry?’

He blushed again. ‘I know. I should be cutting back on milk. But I’ve got a long day ahead of me.’

I made the tea and sandwiches and we sat in my garden chatting. Turns out he was a keen gardener. I admitted I’d never had much luck with tomatoes. Put them in every summer but they were always disappointing.

‘So, what’s in there?’ I asked, finally. ‘I mean it’s much too big to be a bird’s egg.’

‘Oh, no, no!’ He chuckled. ‘We leave bird eggs to the birds. They’re perfectly capable mothers.’

‘Well, what then?’

He looked down at his hands. ‘Sorry, dear. Top secret. Part of the job, I’m afraid.’ And he made a gesture like he was zipping up his mouth. ‘Thanks for the tea, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me…’

That afternoon I rearranged my bookshelf and sorted through my filing cabinet. I was far too distracted to work. Every now and then I’d glance out the window of my studio towards the vegetable patch and see the little man perched on the big blue-speckled egg. Occasionally, he’d nod off, but most of the time he just gazed peacefully up into the birch trees. I finished up and wandered outside.

‘I’m going to start thinking about dinner soon,’ I told the little man. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to come in and join me?’

The little man’s eyes widened. ‘Oh no! I couldn’t leave the egg. Especially now it’s getting cooler.’

‘Can I bring you something then? Some dinner?’

‘Just a cup of tea, would be lovely. Thank you. But can you make them heaped teaspoons this time, please? I like my tea sweet.’

And so it went on. All that night and all the next day. All the next day and the next. The little man sat on the egg. Rain, hail or shine. I took him cups of tea that were so sweet you could almost stand a spoon up in them, but apart from the honey sandwiches, that was all he ate.

I grew to admire that little man, I have to say. I’ve never seen anyone with such patience. And I think he grew rather fond of me, too. When the weekend came around, I was faced with a dilemma. Friends had invited me down to the beach to celebrate New Year’s Eve, but I was loathe to leave him on his own. I knew I wasn’t the greatest company, but I guessed I was better than no one.

‘Go, go. Of course you must,’ he insisted. ‘It’s not healthy for someone your age to stay cooped up all summer with only an old egg-sitter to chat to.’

So, I drove down to the beach. I tried to join in the fun, the conversations, the festivities. The fireworks that year were the biggest they had ever been. But I couldn’t help thinking about the little man and worrying about him all on his own. The next morning, I got up before anyone else was awake. I drove all the way back to the city without stopping. The streets were quiet and litter was strewn everywhere.

‘Hello?’ I called as I unlocked the front door. ‘Hello?’ I strode through my kitchen and out the back door. ‘I’m home.’

But he was gone.

Where he had sat day after day was a small tomato plant, already brimming with tomatoes. When they ripened, everyone said they were the best tomatoes they’d ever tasted. Which was just as well, because all the bushes I’d planted had been squashed flat. And leading out of the veggie patch, up the garden path were the biggest footprints I’d ever seen. Big three-toed footprints that sunk deep into the earth.

Look! draw a story competition.

2010-12-27T20:11:00.006+11:00

Recently, I have had the extremely pleasurable (but also extremely difficult) task of judging the first round of winners for the Look! draw a story competition, along with author/illustrator Anna Walker and author/publisher Jane Godwin. Each month from December to April there will be another line of the story released for children to illustrate and a winner will be chosen from three age groups. Have a look HERE at some of the entries so far - and you'll see why it was so hard to choose a winner!

Fairytales: not for children!

2010-12-18T12:07:00.006+11:00

Last night I watched the movie of 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. Even though I first read this book at school (many years ago!), I hadn't realised until watching the film again last night how much of an influence this story has had on me. As a writer, when I think of the books that draw me to them the most, they are often narrated by a child protagonist and give a child's perspective on a fairly grim world. 'I'm Not Scared' by Niccolo Ammaniti, 'The Book Thief' by Markus Zusak, 'Jasper Jones' by Craig Silvey and 'Carry Me Down' by MJ Hyland are classic examples of these, though if I put my mind to it I could think of at least a dozen more. I am fascinated by the mix of childhood innocence with the bleakest aspects of adult life: the result for me being the most starkly contrasting shades of dark and light possible. (There are movies that do this for me, too: the recent German film 'The White Ribbon' and the 1955 film 'The Night of the Hunter' being two of my favourites.)

There is a scene in 'To Kill a Mockingbird' where a lynch mob arrives in the night to break into the prison where lawyer, Atticus Finch, is guarding Tom Robinson, a black man, who is held in there for supposedly raping a white girl. Atticus' six-year-old daughter, Scout, recognises one of the men in the crowd as the father of a school friend of hers and blithely chats with him about his son, which eventually shames him into calling the mob away. This is such a powerful example of childhood goodness and innocence overcoming adult bigotry and cruelty; light overcoming dark. For me, this is also the essence of so many traditional fairytales: the innocent Red Riding Hood vanquishing the wicked wolf.

Interestingly, when I started to look up some of the details of this book and its author Harper Lee, online, I read an article which finished with the words: 'a book every twelve-year-old should read'. This is another area I feel compelled to explore: why is it that if a book has a young protagonist in it adults immediately assume that it's for children?

Like many teenagers, I read 'To Kill a Mockingbird' in high school. I was a 'good reader', I had no trouble absorbing the words, but the story was so far from my comfortable middle-class Australian world that I only realise as an adult how little of it I really understood. As a teenager, I was hungry for Judy Blume: stories of boyfriends and periods and pimples, THAT was my life, not 1930s Alabama. Of course I could feel empathy for Scout, Atticus, Boo Radley and Tom Robinson, I wasn't completely heartless, but it is only upon rereading this book as an adult that I can truly understand the whole historical and social context of the story. As a twelve-year-old? I doubt it.

Perhaps I was particularly narrow-minded or naive as a teenager, but having travelled extensively all throughout my childhood, I would be surprised if I was more so than any other teenager of my generation. Perhaps teenagers today, with access to the internet, are more worldly, who knows? All the same, I would hesitate to call 'To Kill a Mockingbird' a children's book. Or any of the other books I've mentioned above.

I recently gave a talk at a seminar for adults who teach extra classes in English to children after school hours. Many of those children and teenagers have English as a second language. One of the tutors put up her hand to ask me how she could get one of her teenage students to read more 'literary' novels. She'd tried him with 'Huckleberry Finn', but he just wasn't interested. I explained that I'd only recently read Huck Finn for my book group. As an adult. Huck Finn was no light read. For a start, the dialect and language, while fascinating to me as an adult, could seem possibly Shakespearean to a young boy. And, while it's true that Huck has many wild adventures, essentially the story is about a black slave trying to escape from his 'owners' to get back to his family and avoid being killed. There are some incredibly adult themes in this book, yet because it is narrated by a child people assume it is a children's book.

I suggested to the woman to perhaps try some contemporary Australian authors: we have some brilliant writers here writing stories for contemporary teenagers. He might find them more relevant to his every day life. Her student would seek out Huck Finn for himself when he was ready for it. As well as all those other brilliant books we are made to study in high school: Lord of the Flies, Brave New World, My Brother Jack. I mean, how as a sixteen-year-old girl was I possibly able to understand the life of a unhappy journalist lusting after his brother's wife when I hadn't even experienced a long term relationship, let alone a marriage?

I'd really be interested to know what other people's thoughts are on this. I notice many of these books are still studied at school in place of contemporary YA fiction, some of which is as well written as any of the 'classics'. Then again, perhaps if we never studied the classics at school we'd never read them at all? Who knows? And, while I acknowledge I could have only understood some of the themes present in these books, I am the first to admit that the stories still stay with me today, gently unfolding in my mind as my collective life experience permits me to understand them at deeper and deeper levels.

So, perhaps in the end to call books 'children's', 'YA' or 'adult's' doesn't mean anything anyway. Adults read Harry Potter and enjoy it and primary school kids read Twilight (gulp!). Perhaps you just find the story that speaks to you. Perhaps you understand as much of it as your life experience and compassion allows you. And perhaps, like 'To Kill a Mockingbird' has done for me, it will continue to influence you long after you've read it, and each time you go back to it you will understand it at a deeper level.

After all, when they were first told around the fireplace, fairytales weren't meant for children either.

Ahem. And what about the kids' books?

2010-12-13T10:09:00.005+11:00

I have noticed quite a few bloggers are listing their favourite YA books for 2010, or the ones they are looking forward to reading this summer (for southern-hemisphere dwellers)*

So, I thought I'd put a good word in for the kids' books - as I do think they get a little overlooked in blogsphere. (Which might have something to do with the fact that 8 year olds aren't all that big into blogging. Yet.)

Here are some of the fabulous children's books I read in 2010:

- 'When You Reach Me' by Rebecca Stead (I know some people are claiming this as YA - but I'm sorry, I'm going to shelve this in the kids' section - so there!)

- 'People Might Hear You' by Robyn Klein (Not a new book, I know, but wow! Thanks Kim Kane for insisting I read it.)

- 'James and the Giant Peach', 'The Magic Finger', 'The Witches' - basically anything by Roald Dahl. (What a joy to read them to my seven year old this year and be reminded what an incredible storyteller RD is - and how it's OK to be scary and subversive when you're writing for kids. The illustration above is by one of my favourite illustrators, Quentin Blake. He and Roald Dahl go together like pudding and custard.)

- 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' series, by Jeff Kinney - I was so prepared not to be impressed by these. How much do I love to be proven wrong! I defy anyone of any age not to laugh when they read these books.

- Anything by AA Milne - I read these regularly to remind me how beautiful language can be.

- 'The Naming of Tishkin Silk' by Glenda Millard. What a gorgeous family - I can't wait to read the rest.

Some great Australian children's books by on my bedside table that I am looking forward to reading over summer:

- 'The Museum of Mary Child', by Cassandra Golds

- 'Teensy Farlow and the Home For Mislaid Children', Jen Storer

- 'Star Jumps' by Lorraine Marwood

And some classics I have recently bought that unbelievably I STILL haven't read:

- 'A Wrinkle in Time', Madeleine L'Engle

- 'Bridge To Terabithia', by Katherine Paterson

- 'The Wolves of Willoughby Chase', by Joan Aiken

- 'The Moomintroll' series, by Tove Jansson

That's all I can think of for now - though I'm sure I've missed dozens. Any good kids' books I've overlooked? Old or new? I'd love some suggestions. What were your favourite books as a kid? Or now?

Also, I was most thrilled to see my book 'Angel Creek' on a couple of bloggers lists for most anticipated YA read for 2011. For all those lovely people: I have a small confession to make. While of course I would love you to read my book, I have to warn you it is absolutely NOT YA. Very squarely children's, I'm afraid. I know it is confusing because the last book I published with Text is YA, but this one is not. Not one bit. All the same, I'm very touched that someone is/was looking forward to reading it!

And anyway - YA, kids, chick-lit, sci-fi, fantasy: they're only labels so that publishers and booksellers know how to market a book. A good story is a good story, I say.

*For any northern-hemisphere readers of this blog: yes, sadly, many of us do spray fake snow on our windows and eat a full roast dinner in 35+ degree heat, down here in 'upside-down land'. Guess you can take the girl out of England but not England out of the girl, hey?

Hello Summer!

2010-12-10T06:26:00.006+11:00

I love summer. Everything about it. The heat, the cicadas, the fruit on our trees, the tomatoes in our veggie patch, daylight saving, and especially that quiet time between Christmas and New Year, where everyone is away, or thinks you're away, or they're just too hungover to surface.

Last summer was a very creative and productive time for me. Over those few quiet weeks I wrote the first draft of my novel, Angel Creek. By the end of this summer it will be published.

This summer will be a little busier - I have more Billie books to write and the proofs of my novel to go through. I am also writing a children's story for the Summer Age which will be published in January some time. Not sure when.

Late summer, I will be running Chinese painting workshops for kids on the 13th and 20th of February at the State Library as a part of their exhibition 'Look! - the art of Australian picture books today.' If you are at all interested in children's picture books, particularly illustrations, you have to get down to see this show. It is truly wonderful. And take a child, if you can. All the artwork is hung at child height, and the exhibition space is full of hands-on activities and games, which of course you'll feel much more comfortable playing with if you have a token child with you. (I have a few spare if you don't have your own.) You have plenty of time to get there as it will be in Melbourne until the end of May, but seriously, why would you wait in the queues to see the Myer windows with screaming kids in tow when you could just wander up the road and take a look at some seriously beautiful artwork for children. (Sorry, that's just my humble opinion...)

The image above is of my 'Summer Billie'. It will be in (all good) bookstores in January.

Save Collected Works - pass it on! (thanks Kirsty Murray)

2010-12-03T09:23:00.004+11:00

Thanks Kirsty Murray for alerting me to this. I thought I'd post it too, just to get it out there as far as possible. Collected Works is such an important Melbourne institution. It would be terrible if it closed down. Show your support and pop in there this week. I used to have a studio in the Nicholas Building just down the hall from this wonderful bookstore and have very fond memories of afternoon cups of tea and wonderful conversations with the owner, Kris Hemensley. He was even kind enough to launch my book 'Becoming Buddha' many years back. Just as Kris has always shown his support for the Melbourne writing community by stocking small press books, backlists and, of course, shelves and shelves of poetry, let's return the favour by supporting him in return. If you can't get in this week, drop in when you can. Here are the details of where to find him. And you'll get a chance to have a peek into the marvellous Nicholas Building, another Melbourne icon, while you're there! (Click on the images to enlarge.)

So you want to write a novel?

2010-11-30T13:21:00.003+11:00

This is a brilliant video on writing. SO funny and astute.

And, because I'm not really sure of internet etiquette, here is the address of the guy who made it: http://wahoocorner.blogspot.com/

Billie en francais = Lili!

2010-11-28T15:25:00.004+11:00

Very excited to recently get an email with THIS cover attached. I can't wait to receive my copies of the books. It will be interesting to see what other changes the French language edition will have to make to my stories. I was more than happy for the publishers to change 'Billie' to 'Lili' for a French audience, but I will be fascinated to see how they deal with all the 'B' words in translation...

Lunch with the PM

2010-11-08T16:16:00.014+11:00

Well, I put on a frock and got myself down to Fed Square today for my lunch date with Ms Gillard. Today, the winners of the PM literary awards were announced.

I was 99.9% certain that I wasn't going to win because I was convinced that the winner would be given some notice to prepare a speech, despite being told by the organisers that this wasn't the case and to prepare something anyway. Which, of course, I didn't.

When the winner of the Fiction Award, Eva Hornung for Dog Boy, was announced (my pick!) she wasn't there to collect it (apparently too busy collecting hay) so her publisher, Michael Heyward from Text Publishing accepted the award on her behalf. He had a very well-prepared speech on hand, which only convinced me even further that he already knew that Eva had won.

But THEN, when the non-fiction award was announced, the winner (Grace K arsken for The Colony: A History of Early Sydney) was standing not far from me and the look of genuine shock on her face chilled me to the bone. It wasn't possible: surely they couldn't just spring it on someone like that? That's a heart attack waiting to happen! You're talking $100,000 here - not a rose and a handshake. In my world, that's life-changing stuff! (Or at least mortgage-denting.) However, despite being almost in tears, Ms Karsken pulled a very well-prepared speech from her handbag and read it out beautifully, even remembering to thank the PM and to call the minister for the Arts, Minister Crean, instead of just Simon, as I no doubt would have done.

This is when I went into panic mode. If the winners genuinely didn't know they'd won, then I was still in with a chance! What was worse was that Martine Murray (the author of our shortlisted book) still hadn't arrived and there was a very strong possibility that I would have to stumble up there on my own. At this stage I was thanking God I hadn't worn heels. If my name was announced and I didn't black out on the spot I would surely stumble walking up the stairs to the podium. And fall. On national television. Right into Our Julia!

When the YA winner (Bill Condon for Confessions of a Liar, Thief and Failed Sex God) was announced and his wife, Di Bates, squealed in excitement, the terrifying possibility of appearing with Ms Gillard on national television with no speech prepared loomed even closer. At that moment I tried frantically to recall all the names of people I would have to thank and, of course, not a single one came to me. My editor! She was standing just there! What was her surname, for god's sakes? I had worked on THE BOOK with her for blooming months but my mind was a total blank. I could barely remember my partner's name, and he was standing right next to me.

Then there were the other dilemmas that came flashing through my mind: do I take my handbag, or leave it? Do I offer my sweat-drenched palm to the PM or wipe it on my frock first? What was Mr Crean's title again? Where was Martine, for goodness' sakes? Was it too late to text her to see how far away she was? What if I was texting when they called my name. Oh, Lordy!

So, when Lorraine Marwood's name was announced for her children's novel Star Jumps, and I saw all the panic and shock rip through her body as she tried to decide whether or not to take her handbag to the podium, and whether on not she had time to fish around inside it for her camera, to be honest, even though the one hundred thousand tax-free dollars would have come in handy, all I could think of at that moment was: 'There but for the grace of God go I.'

So, it was terribly lovely to be shortlisted, lovelier still to be at a fancy lunch with the PM (who didn't stay to eat - she does have a country to run) but I tell you what, if I'm ever shortlisted for something again, I'll be prepared!

Congratulations again to all the winners!

Tomboys, jazz and the importance of imagination

2010-11-05T11:00:00.009+11:00

This is an excerpt from an interview on the Billie B Brown series that will be published at www.kidslife.com.au at the end of November. I have just pulled out my favourite bits.

KL: Is Billie’s name, and the spelling of it, intentional?

Yes. In writing books for children I love to create strong girls and sensitive boys. For me, this is a very efficient way of creating a well-rounded character that doesn’t slip into stereotype.

I studied painting in China for several years as a young adult and I am still very interested in Chinese philosophy, particularly its dedication to creating balance in life. The term ‘Yin and Yang’ is bandied about a lot these days, and the symbol is used on everything from Chinese medicine to surfboards, but basically it illustrates the balance of life ie; that in all black, there must be a touch of white, and in white there is always a touch of black.

So, for me to create a well-rounded character, I like to make sure that my boys are in touch with their feminine side and my girls have a little bit of boy in them. ‘Billie’ was the perfect name for

my character because obviously it makes you think of ‘Billy’, the boy’s name, first of all, but then it also might make you think of Billie Holiday, the beautiful, strong and gorgeously feminine jazz singer from the 1940s and 50s.

KL: How does Billie differ to the accepted stereotype of girls her age?

To be honest, being a mother of three boys, I haven’t read many books for girls published recently, but I could tell you anything you want to know about Spiderman!

However, I am keenly aware of how girls are treated in the media and, I have to say, sometimes it turns my stomach. I am a strong advocate not only of desexualizing young girls but also for allowing kids to stay kids for as long as they need to be. Childhood seems to get shorter and shorter and with that also disappears the terribly important ‘doing nothing’ time where imagination is allowed to flourish.

As an author and illustrator, imagination is one of the key aspects of my job, but, if you think about it, imagination and creativity are essential to all areas of life, whatever your job or interests are. I believe that the seeds to developing a strong and healthy imagination are planted in our early life and this grows best by simply allowing children regular opportunities for unstructured play. Once kids break through the ‘I’m bored’ barrier and are left to their own devices, that’s when their imagination really starts to kick in.

Here it is!

2010-10-21T20:21:00.005+11:00

The cover for Angel Creek! It's still AGES before I'll have the finished book in my hands but seeing the cover makes me feel like it's SO much closer.

What do you think?

Play Tag

2010-10-18T10:44:00.003+11:00

I saw this on Lenore Skenazy's Free Range Kids blog, it's brilliant - so funny! And perhaps the best argument I've seen yet for encouraging Free Range play.

A 1970s Childhood

2010-10-08T09:31:00.014+11:00

Have you ever noticed how in many of the best books for children the author removes the parents from the picture as soon as possible? Whether it's children slipping through a portal into Narnia or Hogwarts, or simply sending Mum out for the day when a Cat comes to play? (Or if you are the ever-subversive Roald Dahl, you just kill them off on page one!) There's a very good reason for this. Think back to your own childhood. How present were your parents in the most exciting periods of your life? I don't know about you, but mine were always very much on the periphery. I'm sure they were watching me from some distance away (or at least checking up on me from time to time) but all of my 'adventures' were always played out very much in my private child's world, with parents just kind of like an annoying fly to be swatted away, buzzing in my ear every now and then to go and take a bath or eat some food - right when I was in the most important part of my game! Like many people of my generation, I imagine, (OK - I'm a seventies child!) I was given an enormous amount of freedom by my parents. I walked to school from grade 3 with my friend from across the road and our younger siblings in tow. We would hang out at each other's houses without consulting our parents, go to the park by ourselves and down to the milk bar to buy mixed lollies. We climbed trees, played in mud, waded in creeks. And survived.

These days, in many places, this is unheard of. A friend and I went to see a talk at the Wheeler Centre on Monday evening called ‘Free Range Kids’ by American journalist, Lenore Skenazy. Lenore published an article a while back in the US about letting her nine-year-old son use the New York subway on his own. Within twenty-four hours she was officially labelled 'America's Worst Mom' and found herself defending her decision on countless TV and Radio talkback Shows.

Lenore was a fabulous speaker (and incredibly funny!) and gave us some terrifying examples of how obsessive contemporary society has become in 'protecting our children'. She said an obvious example of how much childhoods have changed over time can be found by watching the original episodes of the educational children's TV show Sesame Street, where kids used to play in vacant lots and eat cookies and generally do their own thing (with the adults either absent or very firmly planted on the periphery). Nowadays when you watch one of these original episodes, apparently they come with the warning: UNSUITABLE FOR CHILDREN! I find this horrifying. And sad.

Lenore explained why, as contemporary parents, we are so much more frightened of allowing our children the same freedoms we enjoyed. Along with the fear of being disapproved of by other parents and the money made by selling us protective gadgetry we don't need, our 24/7 sensationalist media is the most obvious culprit. While statistics have proven that crime rates in the US and Australia are continually going down (and most crime committed towards children comes from someone they know) we are constantly being bombarded by terrifying news stories and Crime-based TV shows. The result being that people are becoming afraid to even step out their own doors. Surely it is much safer to keep our children locked inside on the computer, playing Nintendo games or watching TV? We all know the result of this on our children's physical health, but what about their mental health? What about the health of their imaginations? Creativity? And sense of community?

I was very inspired by Lenore's talk. My family and I are fortunate to live in a great community where many of the local kids walk to school, know their neighbours and play in the local parks. All this month, for example, my youngest son and I have been watching this little nature strip garden bloom and grow. It stands all alone on the street, in front of no house, yet some one has planted all these beautiful flowers just for everyone who passes by to enjoy. It may only be a small, simple gesture, but to me it represents all the good and beautiful things about an open, trusting and generous community and how there are many more good things out there than bad, if we dare to look for them.

(PS Thanks to Cath Crowley for inspiring me to write this post after posting a gorgeous clip on Facebook of Paul Simon on Sesame Street.)

Novel on its way - finally!

2010-09-30T14:45:00.011+10:00

After way too long (and way too much heartache), my next novel looks as is it will finally see the light of day early next year. I had thought this novel writing gig would get easier, but I'm afraid the reverse might be true. This novel began as upper YA, then shifted down to mid-YA and now it is quite firmly planted in children's (8- 12 year olds), which I am beginning to think might be my preferred audience anyway. I have tested it out on friends, children, friend's children, and children's friends and now it is in the safe and most competent hands of my wonderful editor at Text who is massaging it into shape for me. Buffing it, polishing it into the diamond we hope it can be. Here is a draft of the blurb I received today. Along with a gorgeous cover sketch the designer sent through to me, I am beginning to imagine this thing finally becoming a book after all.

"In her new falling-down home, in her new street, in her new suburb, Jelly waits for high school to begin. She feels happy in only two places: up in the branches of the old apricot tree, and by the creek over her back fence. One night, Jelly and her cousins spot something in the creek's dark waters—the faintest pearly smudge. At first they think it’s a bird, but it isn’t…it’s a baby angel with a broken wing. And they decide to keep it. But soon things start to go wrong, and Jelly discovers that you can’t just take something from where it belongs and expect that it won’t be missed…

Sally Rippin's Angel Creek is a book about growing up: being brave and selfish and tough and scared. It's a book about an angel. But not the sweet variety. And it's about the adventures you can have in the streets around your house in the middle of summer."

It's a miracle!

2010-09-10T15:53:00.000+10:00

Writing Billie...

2010-09-06T21:30:00.005+10:00

There are times in your life when something absolutely marvellous just seems to fall into your lap. Billie B Brown has been one of these things.

Hilary Rogers, the publisher at Hardie Grant Egmont, took me out for coffee one day and told me that she wanted to begin a new series of books for young readers (primarily girls) but with a strong female lead – a tomboy, I suppose – to balance out all the fairy and princess books that seem to heavily dominate the younger reader market these days. She asked me – would I like to write for the series – or write the series? (The catch obviously being very tight deadlines.) Well, what you have answered? Really, that’s like asking my seven year old if he’d like lollies for dinner!

I had a million things on, as I always do, and my sensible mind was saying, Sally, you really can’t cope with writing a whole series right now! What about the overdue novel and that set of illustrations you are halfway through? And aren’t you about to begin marking hundreds of assignments from all of your RMIT students? But obviously the offer was way too tempting to even begin to be overrided by my sensible mind and I set to work that very night putting together a whole list of ideas for Hilary to consider. Fortunately, I have a very strong memory of myself at Billie’s age, and so once I started coming up with story ideas, I just couldn’t stop! As luck had it – Hilary loved my ideas and we spent the next few weeks to-ing and fro-ing about how the series would evolve.

Billie went through many incarnations – at one stage I even called her Ruby Rose – without any idea that there was a famous MTV star who went by that name. (Fortunately the Hardie Grant staff are much hipper and groovier than I am and were able to (kindly) let me know!) We talked about the length of the stories (short) and the kind of language and sentence structure I should be using (very simple and pared-back for beginning readers – much harder than it looks!) Then, there was the troublesome dilemma of illustrator. I am also an illustrator and for quite a while we toyed with the idea of me illustrating the series even though we all knew deep down that there was no way I was going to be able to write and illustrate the books as quickly as Hilary wanted to publish them. So, with great difficulty, I handed over a little piece of my baby to be illustrated by someone else.

This is the first time I have done this, and I now know what trepidation and excitement picture book authors must feel when they wait to see what an illustrator has done with their precious words. As it turns out, the Hardie Grant team found the perfect illustrator, in a young (very gorgeous) Japanese-Kiwi woman, called Aki Fukuoka. Aki has created a Billie even more wonderful than I could have imagined (let alone illustrated). Super-groovy, fabulous dresser, feisty, messy – gorgeous! When I look at the series now I can’t imagine Billie any other way. And along with the gorgeous sherbet-y cover colours, the books look almost good enough to eat!

The team at Hardie Grant have been a joy to work with right from the start. And I don’t use the word ‘team’ lightly here. I am only a small part of the enormous success the Billie series has had so far, even though it has only been on the shelves since April. Everyone has worked so hard to get this little girl up and running, and the response to the books has been amazing. I have never received so much fan-mail in my life! Not only from little girls, but parents and teachers, too, thanking me for finally creating a character their girls can relate to.

Writing this series has been so delightful, really just one of those wonderful fortuitous things that comes along just at the right time. I really feel very lucky to have had such a great writing career so far, but I have to say creating the Billie B Brown series has definitely been the icing on the cake.

*This article first appeared on the Kids Book Review blog.

*The above image is the cover of The Perfect Present, to be released November 1, 2010

Chenxi in German!*

2010-09-02T17:09:00.003+10:00

Wow - it never rains but it pours. THIS is also super exciting. I LOVE the cover, and the new title translates as 'The Silk Painter'*. Gorgeous! The best thing about the German translation is that now the 'real' Chenxi will be able to read it, in what has now become his second language (I don't think it will be ever published in China any time soon, considering much of what the novel is about has been banned from the Chinese media.) Soon after I left Shanghai, Chenxi left China to live in Austria where he has now become a successful artist. We keep in touch - but haven't seen each other since we were teenagers. This would definitely be a good excuse to meet up again to celebrate.

*since I posted this, my German publishers have now changed the title to Shanghai Love Story. A German edition, but with an English title. See cover on right.

Many many monkeys

2010-08-30T20:42:00.011+10:00

Like many other children's authors around Australia, I was in schools all last week celebrating Book Week. I love visiting schools but do find it's quite a different energy to the quiet, introspective, creative place I need to be in to write. For me, it feels much more like a performance - a One Woman Show. Not having the strongest of voices, by the end of the week, despite being energised, inspired and excited by all the wonderful children, librarians and teachers I meet, I'm also pretty worn out.

Lately I have been running drawing workshops with primary students where I talk to them about developing some of the characters in the picture books I have illustrated. Then I take them through a step-by-step drawing of a baby monkey from a book I illustrated for Margaret Wild a few years ago called Too Many Monkeys. I have run this workshop with students of all ages, but today was the first time I have done it with kindergarten students. Here are some of their drawings.

The photos aren't that great because I took them on my phone, but you can still see how beautiful the drawings are. Even though each of them copied exactly the same drawing from the whiteboard, each drawing is so exquisitely unique.

Click here for a video on the Booked Out website to see an example of this drawing workshop.

Chenxi en francais!

2010-08-24T09:41:00.004+10:00

THIS is very exciting!

I remember when I lived in France, over ten years ago now, in the countryside just outside of Bordeaux, I was desperate for any books in English, and there was only one English-language bookstore in town. One day I went in there and asked if they had any books by Australian authors, being a Penguin bookstore, I assumed that this would be a reasonable enough request. The shop assistant told me that she was sorry that not only were there none, she wouldn't be able to order any in for me either. She explained (and I will never forget this) that English and European readers weren't really very interested in Australian stories.

I was gobsmacked. And unfortunately way too timid back then to let her know all the indignant thoughts that were whirling around in my head. Is there even such a thing as an Australian story, for goodness sakes? Isn't the very act of storytelling universal, whatever culture or setting becomes its background?!

Anyway, as the old saying says, don't get mad, get even. I wish I could find that bookseller now...

Melbourne Writers Festival

2010-08-15T10:44:00.006+10:00

This year I have three sessions at the Melbourne Writers Festival.

For bookings, go to www.mwf.com.au

Wednesday September 1st

Chicks with Sticks!

Alice Pung, Sally Rippin

ACMI 2, 12.30pm - 1.15pm, Tickets $6

For Alice Pung, growing up Asian in Australia was a constant process of navigating who she was and how she fit in. For Sally Rippin, growing up as an Australian in China, the process was just the same… in reverse.

Meet Sally and Alice as they talk culture-clashes, family identity and whether being a teenager anywhere can possibly be easy.

Thursday September 2nd

Where am I?

Sally Rippin

ArtPlay, 11.15am - 12pm, Tickets $6

Where you set a story can be the key to whether your readers believe it or not. As an illustrator and an author, Sally Rippin uses beautiful drawings and perfect descriptions to communicate setting to her readers.

Today, Sally talks about capturing the essence of a particular place and how to recreate it on the page.

Saturday 4th September

Wordplay @ Artplay

Carole Wilkinson, Sally Rippin

ArtPlay, Birrarung Marr

10am - 3.15pm

$21/child

Beginning at 10am each day is packed with different workshops launches and meet the author sessions, so you children can enjoy the full festival experience, all under one roof.

Each day you can write, illustrate and publish your own book in a day with the wonderful Victoria Ryle, as well as enjoying storytelling sessions from the Storyteller's Guild.

We'll be joined too by the Children's Book Council of Australia, who'll be on hand to give free, informal seminars for parents to help you guide your child around the world of books.

On 4th September our featured events are:

Carole Wilkinson – Author Presentation

Carole Wilkinson has the answer to every dragon-related question, in every dragon-related story, you could imagine asking!

Sally Rippin – Illustrator Workshops

Sally Rippin will present workshops on how to illustrate in the style of Chinese painting!

Wordplay is aimed at children from ages 6 - 13 and day tickets cost $21. Parents or guardians attend free of charge.

Shaun Tan, The Lost Thing

2010-08-10T17:26:00.006+10:00

Speaking of amazing author/illustrators, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to see Shaun Tan's animation The Lost Thing at the Melbourne Film Festival two weekends ago. Like all Shaun's work, this was a labour of love - many years of work for only ten minutes of viewing - but the result is exquisite. There is so much detail in every scene, full of Shaun's gorgeous painterly textures and colours, curious characters, signs and symbols, that I wanted to go back and freeze each frame just to absorb it all. Plus, on screen, the story seemed even more moving than I remembered.

If you missed The Lost Thing's only Melbourne viewing, don't despair, as DVDs will be available for sale in November - just in time for Christmas! Meanwhile, here is the trailer, as a taster, and don't forget to visit the website for more information.

Oliver Jeffers

2010-08-06T09:16:00.008+10:00

Here's a great little video on Oliver Jeffers, one of my favourite picture book creators, talking about his work. You can visit his website here and while you are there you just might want to subscribe to his newsletter, which is always full of interesting little tidbits like this one.

Billie B Brown drawing competition

2010-07-27T19:45:00.010+10:00

A school I visited recently ran a Billie B Brown drawing competition. Here are some of the entries. Aren't they gorgeous!?

Billie five and six!

2010-07-23T11:10:00.009+10:00

Only ten more sleeps until the next two Billie books hit the stores on August 2nd. I have some lovely new advance copies and if you (or any little girls you know) would like to get your mittens on one before anyone else does, email me at sallyrippin@optusnet.com.au and tell me which is your favourite Billie B Brown book and I'll throw in some stampers for your trouble. I only have a few to give away so be quick!

In other Billie news, the first six books have already sold into French-Canada and will be published there later this year. I can't wait to read in Billie in French!

Here is a nice review from the August edition of Bookseller and Publisher:

The Extra-special Helper: Billie B Brown

Billie B Brown’s class is off to the zoo and Billie couldn’t be more proud as she’s going to be her teacher’s extra special helper for the day. Billie needs to make sure that everyone behaves and that no-one gets lost—but is she up to the task? This cute little reader is the latest addition to Sally Rippin’s series for emerging readers that revolves around what the ‘B’ in Billie B Brown really stands for—this time, bossiness. Rippin’s aim is to offer an alternative to fairy and princess readers, and she carefully challenges gender stereotypes through the characters of Billie and her best friend Jack. This story develops their friendship particularly well as Billie learns to juggle her responsibilities as both a friend and helper. Illustrator Aki Fukuoka does a great job of capturing Billie’s quirky and defiantly messy character, complementing the overall bright, modern and friendly series design. Children will want to pick these books up and give them a try—and the layout, with its generous type and fun use of emphasised words, will help keep them going. Short and sweet, this engaging reader for children five years and up also makes a great accompaniment to a first school excursion.

Meredith Tate is a freelance writer, editor and reviewer who has worked for a children’s publisher

Coming home to some good news

2010-07-17T17:46:00.004+10:00

Oh, it's hard to come home. Back in the freezing Melbourne winter it's hard to imagine I was looking out this very window over the rooftops of Paris only weeks ago. Maybe I was Parisian in another life? Or perhaps from Southern Italy where we spent the last few days of our trip eating, sleeping, swimming, and then eating some more. I love the way Italian and French life revolves around food. I can't imagine a nicer way to spend your life than your biggest dilemma of the day being what to eat at your next meal. 'Hmm...will we we eat at the seafood place down the road or stroll along the beach to that pizza restaurant in town? It's been at least two hours since I've had a gelati, I wonder if I could go another? Or should I crack open that goat cheese?' Ah...ca c'est la vie!

Anyway, my return to Melbourne was rather softened by the exciting news that Mannie and the Long Brave Day, by Martine Murray and illustrated by me, has been shortlisted for the Prime Minister's Literary Awards, in the Children's Fiction category. At this stage I've no idea when the winner is announced but you'll certainly hear about it if it's Martine and me!

Fromages Francais

2010-06-23T15:57:00.006+10:00

Ooh la la! They say there is a different French cheese for every day of the year and I would have to say I think I am coming pretty close to having eaten every one of them - even the ones that smell like feet. Is there nothing more sublime than a glass of red with a blob of camembert on a piece of crusty baguette? Throw in a seventeenth century Parisian apartment with the morning sun streaming in and I am in heaven. This week is flying by and we are already dreaming up ways of how we can possibly come back (or never leave?) There are still two whole wings of the Louvre I didn't get to see! (Though they say it would take nine months to see every single thing in the Louvre. I could handle that. Nine months here would suit me fine.)

You'll be happy to know I can now go sockless, which means we almost fit in here now, could almost pass as Parisians, except that my seven year old insists on hanging all his Eiffel Tower keyrings off his jumper. But that's OK. It could be just a statement ironique - in a kind of Andy Warhol/Marcel Duchamp kind of way.

Brrr...Summer in Paris!

2010-06-21T14:42:00.006+10:00

Hmmm... Summer in Paris? Yesterday it was freezing! Am I glad I threw in a jumper at the last minute! Just in case you're even slightly interested, today should be a little bit warmer, then by Wednesday it should be 25 and sunny.

I've noticed that one of the differences between Melburnians and Parisians (I'm sure there are thousands but this is one I discovered yesterday) is that Parisians don't obsess about the weather the way we do (we do? I do?). I asked three people what the weather was going to be like this week and not one of them had any idea or showed any interest whatsoever! Cheez, in Melbourne I even know how many millimeters of rain there is going to be!

How can I possibly know what to wear if I don't know what the weather is going to be like? It's hard enough looking 'Parisian chic' when I have to wear all my summer clothes on top of each other and socks with my thongs!

Travel reading

2010-06-16T19:43:00.010+10:00

In two more sleeps we head off for Paris! Two weeks in France and two weeks in Italy. It goes without saying that I am BESIDE myself with excitement. So, on my bed I have a suitcase crammed with clothes, a printout of my novel-in-progress and a stack of kid's books to keep my youngest entertained. Now the biggest dilemma is which books to take for me? It is so hard to whittle down that towering pile by my bedside table, and then there are all those tempting bookstores at the airport!

Do I take light and breezy or earnest? Travel stories or short stories? Award-winners or money-spinners? Research or fun? Already the two Lonely Planet guides take up almost half the suitcase and weigh a ton! Help! Suggestions anyone? What's something fabulous I can take that I will gaze at fondly on my bookshelf for years to come, dust it off, remove the Metro ticket bookmark and remember that this was 'the book I read in Paris'?

Competition!

2010-06-11T16:08:00.004+10:00

OK, any Billie fans out there, here's a competition for you!

It's a little hard to read the poster, so here are the details:

Do you know what the B in Billie B Brown stands for?

-Lots of different things!

Billie can be BRAVE sometimes, other times she wants to be a BALLERINA. Some days she wants to do something BIG and sometimes she can be a little bit BOSSY!

Want to win a full set of the first four Billie B Brown books?

Just tell us what you think the B in Billie B Brown could stand for.

You can draw, collage or write your entry - the more BOLD and BEAUTIFUL the BETTER!

There are TEN sets to be won!

Send your entries to:

The B in Billie B Brown Competition

Private Bag 1600, South Yarra, VIC 3141

Don't forget to include your name, age and address so we can send you a prize!

Entries close 30/06/2010

The winner will be contacted by mail before 12/07/2010

Premier's Reading Challenge blog

2010-06-01T16:54:00.006+10:00

Next week (June 7 - 11) I am The Age newspaper's Premier's Reading Challenge blogger. Below is the introduction that will run in this Sunday's Age to encourage kids to go online and chat with me as a Premier's Reading Challenge ambassador about reading, writing, or anything really. If you don't get The Age you can you can access the blog by going to www.education.theage.com.au and selecting 'ERC blog' from the top navigation bar or via this link:

http://www.education.theage.com.au/blog

Hope to see some of you there!

Story ideas.

Often when I am running writing workshops with students the first thing I will be asked is how to come up with an idea for a story.

Here is an exercise I get them to try.

Think of a character. Then think of your character’s ‘every day’ or ‘normality’. Then think of an interruption to your character’s normality. This is called an ‘inciting incident’.

It can be a big, fantastical interruption to your character’s every day life:

Every day Gus took the tram to work. But one day the tram braked suddenly. Gus looked out the window, and there on the tram tracks was a spaceship!

Or, it can be a small, more realistic interruption:

Every day Samantha checked the letterbox, but it was always empty. One day, when she opened the box, there was a letter waiting for her.

Whatever your interruption, it should spark questions in your mind that help you progress with the story.

Who is in the spaceship? How did they get there? What is going to happen next?

Who is the letter from? Why has Samantha been waiting for it? What will be in the letter?

Asking, then answering, these kind of questions can be a good way to come up with ideas for a story.

Creativity and Doubt

2010-05-27T09:15:00.009+10:00

So, if Peter Carey can doubt himself: here and even the great Eric Carle can have an attack of creative crisis: here, I guess it's just something that I have to accept as part of the job!

Here are another couple of inspiring speakers who talk about these very same things. The wonderful Sir Ken Robinson, who has written a book about finding your passion: here and Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love (which I am yet to read) here.

There is something so vulnerable about making your creative life your professional life, as if your job demands you to turn yourself inside out, all your tenderest most intimate thoughts and ideas on show for all the world to see and judge. But would I have it any other way? There have been times when I have wondered. But then the realisation that I am in the incredibly rare and privileged position of making a living from something I am passionate about, in a situation where I am working almost every day doing something that I love, overrides all the possible downsides, and, once again I am grateful for what I have.

After your first novel - then what?

2010-04-27T09:45:00.006+10:00

I have been working on my current novel for three or four years now (I've lost count) and it has been a grueling process. Recently I have been thinking a lot about something Antoni Jach, teacher and mentor of countless writers all over Melbourne, once said: 'You get your first novel for free.' At the time I didn't completely understand what he meant by this but now I think I do.

When I think back to when I wrote my first novel Chenxi and the Foreigner, in my mid-twenties, it's like I am different person (other that I am obviously much older and alas not always wiser). I'm not saying that my first novel was any easier to write - I still had to slog out numerous drafts over several years - it's more that I wrote with a kind of weightlessness that seems harder to conjure up the more I am published.

I am definitely a more professional writer now; more aware of what I am doing and why I am doing it, who my audience is and even the kind of book I am writing. I edit my work better, I plan better, structure better, probably even write better, but by gaining all this control over my writing, I lose a certain enviable out-of-controlness that comes from blindly finding your way through your first novel.

As an art student, I loved the unpredictability of printmaking. Unlike drawing (unless you draw blindfolded or with your left hand) with printmaking you could never be one hundred per cent sure of what the outcome would be. I guess that's the closest analogy I can think of to describe the difference between writing my first novel to writing the one I am working on now.

I remember once listening to Sonya Hartnett talk on a panel with a hip young first-time novelist and at the time thinking how weary and cynical she sounded. The hip young novelist had so much fire and excitement and enthusiasm and was comparing writing his novel to riding a bucking bronco. Sonya rolled her eyes and said something like, 'That's because you're still a virgin. Just wait til you try to write the next one.'

Even though I would hate to ever feel weary or cynical about my work, at times it definitely does feel tamer. I carry more weight and I know well the hard road ahead of me. I'm also more likely to dismiss my work as crap whereas in the beginning I was overjoyed just to string a few words together and to watch something be created from nothing.

These days I can still have moments like that. Little breakthroughs like cracks in a wall where the light gets in (thank you Leonard Cohen for that beautiful analogy). This weekend I had a good weekend, an uninterrupted long weekend perfect for writing. My partner and I both work from home and take turns looking after our youngest son so the other can work. I wrote in the mornings then walked along the Merri Creek with my son in the afternoons. With him, I can often rediscover that sense of childish awe about the world, that slow daydreaming time so essential to creativity. Then in the evenings I would read through the day's work. I didn't hate all of it. I was amazed to discover that some of it I even liked.

I don't want to jinx myself or count my chickens before they hatch or let the cat out of the bag or any of that other proverbial nonsense, but I'll just say that my novel has changed considerably over the last three/four years. From starting out as an angsty teen novel about identity and acceptance (yawn), I think now it is beginning to simplify and crystallize into something younger, lighter and more full of awe. While I began with something complex and complicated and convoluted, now I have decided just to tell the story of a bunch of kids who find an angel in the creek.

Picasso strove his whole life to recreate the simplicity and lightness of his childhood drawings and, like him, it may take me a lifetime to do the same. But perhaps the more time I spend walking along the creek with my young son, the easier it will be for me to get there.

Billie in the Younger Sun Bookstore

2010-04-16T16:52:00.003+10:00

THIS is very exciting! When you walk into the fabulous Younger Sun Bookstore in Yarraville this is the first thing you see. I was asked by the wonderful Kate O'D to come in and sign some Billie books this week and had no idea what a treat awaited me! Thanks Kate and everyone at the Younger Sun for all your support!

Any other bookstores stocking Billies who'd like me to come in and sign copies, just let me know. I have a car and I am prepared to drive any (reasonable) distance for any Billie fans out there!

Sneak Peek - Books 5 & 6

2010-04-13T10:33:00.004+10:00

Here are the gorgeous covers for the next two Billie books, due for release later this year.

Billie B Brown Launch

2010-04-12T11:39:00.015+10:00

Here are a couple of photos from Saturday's Billie B Brown launch. Andy did a wonderful job launching the series and Borders were great hosts. Some of the kids dressed up - the theme was the letter 'B' so of course I am dressed as Billie. (I'm not normally known for galavanting about in pigtails and a tutu!) It was lots of fun and it was wonderful to see so many friends, relatives and Hardie Grant people at the launch, many of them with kids in tow. Obviously, we missed Aki, the illustrator, but as she lives in New Zealand it was a little far for her to come just for the weekend!

There are two more Billie books on the way and I'll be posting a sneak peek soon.

Bonnikins - Short & Scary

2010-04-08T10:21:00.004+10:00

This is a story I recently had published in Short & Scary - a new collection of short stories by Black Dog Books. It is an old story of mine, but still one of my favourites.

BONNIKINS

By Sally Rippin

Come for a wander with me, sproggin. I have a special place to show you. It’s not far, but we have to walk through the woods. Your mammy told you never to walk through the woods, did she? Well, sprog, I wouldn’t worry about your mammy. She’s not around now, is she? There’s just me. Now, come along.

It’s dark in the woods, is it deary? Well, don’t you worry, your peepers will soon become accustomed. Look now, the clouds have rolled back and there shines the moon, all fullsome, upon our path. Just keep walking. It’s not far now.

What’s that sound, you say? Well, that be the wolves, my child. Wolves are always a-howling when the moon comes out. Don’t let it fear you. Those wolves may be hungry but they’re far, far away. And anyways, you be safe with me.

Keep up now, child. Don’t want to be losing yerself among the leafy-tallings now, do you? The woods is no place for a child on its own. What’s that? You want to go home? There now, child, that’s not the voice of the sprog I know. Come along. We be nearly there. There’s no going back now.

There. You see it? There. Between the leafy-tallings. Dainty innit? That be my snuggery. And a cosy one at that. But that’s not what I wanted to show you. No, child, what I want you to see waits inside. Come along now, don’t tarry. Ah, yes, there tis. See how it the light beckons? All friendly-like? Ah, it’s good to be home.

Not that I don’t like yer ma and pa. No, child, it’s not that. They be fine people, for sure. But I got my own sprog to care for, too. You didn’t know that? Well, of course, my child. Why do you think I work so hard for yer ma and pa? You think I clean their house for fun, my sprog? No, child. I have my own sprog to feed. Yes, child.

Here we are. Come along my inchling. I hear my babe a-callin. He be hungry fer sure. Don’t be fearsome, child. Why, your face be turnin’ white as a bone! I thought you had more courage in you than that. What’s that? You don’t like that sound he’s makin? He’s but a babe! Sure he be noisy, but he’s howlin’ with hunger. You be howlin’ too if you had a hunger like that.

In you go, my fingerling. Shhh! Yes, dear just like that. You don’t want me to lock the door? But we must lock the door, dear. Keep the hungry beasties out. No dear, yer ma won’t be calling you. She’s having a nice tea now with yer pa. In a fancy dining place, innt she? She knows yer safe with me. I says to yer ma, now don’t rush back, dear, yer fine sprog be safe with me! No, child, your ma and pa won’t miss you for quite a bit longer.

Come along now, child. Don’t pull yer hand like that. Of course it’s going to hurt your wrist if you keep pulling away like that. Just be still, would you child? There’s no sense in making a fuss. There! All yer kicking and screaming’s upset my babe. Oh dear, child. You know it’s not good to upset him. He gets awful cranky-like when he’s upset. Come here, child! Don’t tug. Come see my little darlin’.

Now that’s not a very nice thing to say about my baby, is it? Sure he be big, but he be no monster. He’s my belov’d, aren’t you, Bonnikins? Bonnikins is hungry, aren’t you darling? He’s just drooling because he’s hungry, poor miserable thing. Look child, he’s happy to see you, isn’t he? There, there Bonnikins, that’s better. Don’t cry. Bonnikins has been waiting for his ma to come home with his dinner, hasn’t he?

Mind those bones, child!

April 10 launch of Billie B Brown by the wonderful Andy Griffiths - hope you can come!

2010-03-29T15:36:00.010+11:00

If you can't make it to the launch I will be signing books at Angus & Robertson bookstores on both these days:

Wednesday 7th April 3-4pm Highpoint Shopping Centre

Friday 9th April 1-2pm Melbourne, CBD Cnr Bourke & Elizabeth Streets

Hope you can drop by.

Meanwhile, check out the new website, it's bbbrilliant!

www.billiebbrown.com

The Race For the Chinese Zodiac

2010-03-25T09:19:00.015+11:00

Gabrielle Wang and I worked on a book together published by Black Dog, called The Race For the Chinese Zodiac. Gabi recently interviewed me for her website and I have posted the interview here. You can also check out her website for more about her other books: www.gabriellewang.com

--------------

(Gabi) What was the very first thing you did after you received the manuscript for The Race for the Chinese Zodiac?

(Me) I often start by looking at lots of other books with interesting illustration styles and think about what kind of style would best suit the text.

What were the various stages you went through when illustrating the book?

I tried a few styles to begin with that didn’t work, including collage. Eventually I asked Black Dog if I could bring their designer, Regine Abos, on board to collaborate with me from the start so I could combine my hand-done illustration techniques with her contemporary computerised ones. We decided that I would do the loose Chinese brushwork and she would drop in the texture and colour behind it with the computer. I’m very happy with the result.

How did you create the Chinese chops?

Initially I thought I would pay someone to carve them all in stone but it was going to cost a mint and take way too long. Then it occurred to me that I could achieve the same effect with linocuts. So that is what I did. I copied each character backwards onto the lino and carved around them to make each print. Of course afterwards I realised I didn’t really have to do them backwards at all, we could have reversed the image on the computer, but anyway I enjoyed the challenge.

Was The Race for the Chinese Zodiac different to other picture books you have illustrated?

Yes, very different in the sense that I worked with a designer right from the start. Usually in Australia the designer just comes in at the last minute to add the text and place the images. Recently I met David Mackintosh, the designer for all Lauren Child’s books, at a picture book conference in Singapore, and he gave a talk about the way designers work in the UK. I realised after listening to him speak that a designer can do so much more than just lay out text. He and Lauren work together right from the beginning with her roughs and lay the book out together. I think this is a wonderful idea as both the designer and the illustrator have very different ideas and skills they can bring to the finished book. Regine and I were given a lot of freedom by Black Dog and were both able to bring something of ourselves to the illustrations and I think the end result shows.

What medium did you use?

Chinese ink and Arches paper. Plus linocuts for the chops.

How long did it take to paint one picture?

The actual brushwork is quite quick – what took the most time was sourcing the image, doing the sketches then the finished drawing. After all this I would lay the finished drawing on the light box, place a piece of watercolour paper over the top and try to do the black outline in as few brushstrokes as possible to keep that minimal Chinese calligraphy feel.

How many roughs did you make before you decided on the actual painting to use?

Usually around four or five pencil sketches. Some of the ink paintings I redid but most of them I was happy with first off. Particularly if I was in a ‘painting mood’ that day (ie; calm and centred).

You told me you work fairly quickly. How long did The Race for the Chinese Zodiac take to complete?

The thing that usually takes me the longest is the planning, thinking about the book and working out what kind of illustration style I am going to use. This can take many months, but it is a very important part of my creative process – it’s the germinating period you could say. The actual working with paper part is comparatively quick because I already have a strong idea of what I want to do. So I probably completed the finished artwork for the Zodiac book in a matter of weeks.

Where did you study Chinese painting and for how long?

I studied for three years in China. One year at the Shanghai College of Art, then two years at the China Art Academy in Hangzhou (Gabi studied there too!)

What is your favourite medium to work in?

All types. I do love brush and ink for its strength and spontaneity but I also love collage, watercolour, charcoal, gouache – each gives a different mood to the artwork and it depends on the look and feel I am going for.

Which is your favourite page in the book?

I think the piggy lying on her back. It makes everyone chuckle. She looks so blissfully happy. But I am rather proud of my dragons, too – having never drawn a dragon before!

Article in The Age -An Education.

2010-03-15T22:08:00.004+11:00

First of all I was so excited to have my article published in today's Age (with huge photograph! - had to take a photo - see left!) Then, even more exciting, I have had messages all day from friends, acquaintances and people I don't even know to thank me for writing it! I feel so thrilled that so many people have felt inspired by the article - let's hope World Vision get a barrage of phone calls over the following days! The power of words, hey?

If you want to read the full article, scroll down to my earlier post titled 'I think it's time I had another child' - and I'd love to hear from you!

Exhibition of Peeking Ducks

2010-03-11T17:03:00.004+11:00

Peeking Ducks
An Exhibition by Illustrator Sally Rippin

& Author Krista Bell.

22 March to 11 April

Peeking Ducks is a collection of illustrations by Sally Rippin from the picture book written by Krista Bell, published by Windy Hollow Books. Both Krista and Sally have spent time in China where the story of these three adventurous ducklings is set. Sally studied traditional Chinese painting for three years in China, both in Shanghai and Hangzhou.

The illustrations for Peeking Ducks have been painted in watercolour wash and black ink, using the some of the techniques Sally learned as a student in China combined with her own illustrative style. The exhibition will feature original illustrations & limited edition of high resolution prints.

Opening Night Tuesday 23 March 6pm to 8pm
ARB Gallery, Gasworks Arts Park

Gasworks Arts Park: Cnr Graham and Pickles Street, Albert Park.

t 03 8606 4200 tty 03 9699 4367 w gasworks.org.au

Peeking Ducks news

2010-03-04T10:08:00.005+11:00

From this months' Books Illustrated newsletter:

Peeking Ducks at
Federation Square

Peeking Ducks is written by Krista Bell, illustrated by Sally Rippin and published by Windy Hollow Books.

Help us celebrate this beautiful new picture book at the Books Illustrated stand at the Federation Square Book Market on Saturday 6 March from 11 am to 5 pm.

You can meet Krista Bell and watch illustrator, Sally Rippin at work from 1 to 3 pm.

Books for signing will be on sale.

Peeking Ducks at Gasworks

Beautifully fresh and charmingly chinesey, Sally Rippin’s illustrations for Peeking Ducks will be on exhibit at Gasworks Arts Park in the Angela Robarts-Bird Gallery from 22 March to 11 April.

Both Sally (painting) and Krista (writing) will be doing workshops in the Gasworks Holiday program.

www.gasworks.org.au

Billie B Brown Comes To Town!

2010-02-26T16:22:00.006+11:00

Woo hoo! Just got advance copies of the new series I have been writing for Hardie Grant. There are four books so far, due out in April, starring Billie B Brown, a fiesty tom-boy, who I'm hoping will provide a refreshing change for little girls (and parents) sick of princesses and fairies! Billie's best friend is her next door neighbour, Jack, who is good at building cubbies but not as good as Billie on the monkey bars. The books are for 6-8 year olds who are just learning to read and they are illustrated by the wonderful Aki Fukuoka. Very excited! Hope you love them!

Check this out for a taster: www.billiebbrown.com

I think it's time I had another child...

2010-02-22T09:10:00.014+11:00

Yes, that’s not a typo. I already have three gorgeous sons but after visiting my sponsor child, Elizabeth, during a recent trip to Ghana I have now made the decision to add another child to my brood.

After having sponsored Elizabeth since she was four and having watched her grow in yearly updates and photographs from World Vision, I was excited to finally meet her in person and also to meet her family. However, what I hadn't anticipated in preparing for my visit to Ghana was how moved I would be by the World Vision staff themselves.

I have been sponsoring Elizabeth for over six years now and, in all honesty, I don't even notice the money come out of my bank account. It is less than I spend on tram tickets each day, less than the coffee I buy at the café down the street, less even than the spare change that rolls around the bottom of my car for parking meters. Sponsoring Elizabeth costs just a little over a dollar a day. It seems like almost nothing and, at times, I wondered whether my meagre contribution could possibly be making any difference. But it has. And I was able to see that difference first-hand.

I was picked up early Monday morning by Raphael, full-time driver and mechanic for World Vision in Takoradi, which is two hours away from Accra, the capital of Ghana. We chatted a little about his life: he was born in the North of Ghana, grew up in a mud hut and had enrolled in an engineering course at university, which he had to pull out of when his father died so that he could get a job to support his mother and siblings. He told me that he now has three daughters, but when he showed me a photograph of his family, there was also a little boy in the picture.

‘Who’s that?’ I asked, ever curious.

‘Oh, he’s the son of my neighbour,’ Raphael replied. ‘We look after him because his parents can’t afford to.’

‘Is that common?’ I asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Raphael replied. ‘If you have money left over after feeding your own family, you take in another child. We just pay for his food and schooling, that's all.’

This was the first of many humbling conversations I was to have with Raphael that day.

We arrived at the World Vision office just outside Takoradi where I was greeted like royalty. Christina, the head of the Ahanta West Project, sat me down in the boardroom and apologised that as there was no electricity that morning, she wouldn't be able to show me the power-point presentation she had prepared. Fortunately, she had had the foresight to print it out a few days earlier and sat down next to me and went through the print-out, showing me exactly where all the money I had donated (along with other sponsors for the area, all Australian) had been spent. For almost an hour, seated in the boardroom with all the other local World Vision staff, Christina went through the statistics of how much the community of Ahanta West had been improved over the last twelve years that World Vision had been in the area.

I will pause here to explain something I had already been aware of but many other sponsors may not know; the money I donate in Elizabeth’s name goes into a pool for her whole community rather than directly to her as an individual. In this way, the World Vision staff decide how it can best benefit the largest number of people. Their motto is that you can give a man a fish and he will not starve for a day, but if you teach him to fish he will eat for a lifetime. So, naturally, a large part of the money is spent on education. This education ranges from teaching mothers about nutrition through to how to avoid AIDS (ie; it does not come from the gods) and, most importantly, educating the next generation of children. But there are practical things the World Vision staff put into place, too, before the children can even be educated. In the past, Elizabeth and her friends couldn’t go to school because they had to walk for miles to fetch water, which was often polluted anyway causing illness and disease. Now their village has a well, which provides fresh water for the whole community and World Vision has also provided vaccinations for all the children against major diseases.

Christina went through the statistics with me methodically, continuously thanking me for my small part in changing the lives of this entire community. She also explained that in October this year the community would be considered self-sufficient and able to fend for themselves without the continuing support of World Vision.

After our board meeting, it was off to meet Elizabeth. We drove to her school, which consisted of three basic buildings in a field of flattened dirt. Obviously, our arrival caused much excitement and disruption throughout the whole school, and children ran to the windows to peer out at us. I have to say I was very impressed with how healthy all the children looked, and at how beautifully clean and ironed their uniforms were. I’m embarrassed to admit that I have often sent my children off to school with runny noses and crumpled clothing, looking far worse than any of these children did.

Elizabeth’s classroom consisted of two long rows of desks with approximately fifty children seated around them. The teacher was in the middle of an English grammar lesson when we arrived, writing on an old blackboard in chalk. I was amazed to see that the students didn't appear to even have pens or paper so were reciting everything he said by rote. Elizabeth and I were told to stand at the front of the room with the teacher and had hundreds of photos taken while I donated pencils, paints and posters (all bought from my local two-dollar shop, as suggested by the Australian World Vision staff). Elizabeth stood beside me like a startled rabbit, doing her best to smile for the cameras as instructed. After signing the school visitor's book with great ceremony, the World Vision staff took me, Elizabeth and her older sister (who is also a sponsored child) back to their community to meet her family.

Before I was allowed to meet her family I had to meet with the community chief to ask for his permission. The chief was away that day so four other people who represented him received us instead. We sat in a room, all the officials and Elizabeth and I, and one by one stated our name and purpose and also a little about ourselves. This was translated not only for my behalf but also for Christina and her staff as the Ahanta West community speak only the language of the area.

Finally, after the all formalities were finished, and prayers were given, we were taken to sit in front of Elizabeth’s house and meet her family. Once again, we went around the circle, explaining who we were and our relationship to Elizabeth and said a few more prayers (me with my eyes closed, pretending to know what I was doing). I was introduced to everyone as Elizabeth’s ‘mother’, which made me feel awkward, as Elizabeth’s own mother was there, as well as her grandmother and great-grandmother. But when her mother called me ‘sister’ and my own sons Elizabeth’s ‘brothers’, I understood the symbolism of the title and its deeper meaning.

‘How do they feel about me swanning into their community, like some rich white woman, handing out presents?’ I asked Raphael later when I had finished the tour of the area, seen the water pump World Vision had put in and had hundreds more photos taken with Elizabeth and her extended family. ‘Do they, you know, feel resentful or patronised by me being here? Is there any stigma attached to being a sponsored child for Elizabeth and her family?’

‘No,’ Raphael answered, genuinely shocked. ‘It’s just normal. They are just grateful to you. After all, in Ghana if you have money you share it.’

Of everything I heard that day, this is the comment that moved me the most. Of course. It really is as simple as that. If you have money, you share it. If Raphael can do it earning less than a hundred dollars a month as a driver and mechanic, it is a given that I should do it too. Already the little I donate feels like nothing to me but means everything to the World Vision staff in Takoradi, as they reminded me often that day. Their work in these communities is completely funded by people like myself, lots of little donations that add up to make a difference. Enough of a difference that in only twelve years a severely poverty-stricken community, completely dependent on World Vision to survive, has now become self-sufficient, proud and strong. On less than I spend on coffees.

Now that I know for certain that my money is not just a drop in a vast ocean of poverty, I am going to sponsor another child. I have seen with my own eyes how much it can help. And, even if you have never have the fortune to meet your own sponsor child as I did, you can take it from me that somewhere in the world someone is grateful for your existence, which is sometimes more than we can say for our own children!

Go on, you know you want to. It's so easy you don't even need to get up from your desk. Plus, if you need any more incentive, you know you can claim it as a tax deduction.

Just click here: World Vision Sponsor a Child.

Photo above: Theresa (Child Sponsor Co-ordinator), Me and Raphael.

Photo below: I am in the middle (easy to spot) Elizabeth is on my left in the brown school uniform, then her mother and uncle next to her. Christina is on my far left in the white shirt. On my right is Elizabeth's grandfather, and on his right is her grandmother. The others in the photo are other World Vision staff or other people who live in the Ahanta West community.

Day Four - Out on the street

2010-02-12T02:18:00.007+11:00

Wednesdays at Lincoln Community School finish up at 1pm. The younger students go home but the senior students must participate in a program called CAS (Community Action Service) which goes towards their end of year marks. Students volunteer to help out in several places around Accra and I jumped on a bus that was headed to a childcare centre. The childcare centre was set up by a German woman who saw a need to help "Street Girls" - young women who were selling things along the roadside with small children in tow. The centre was established not only to look after the Street Girls' young children but also to help provide education and training to move these women off the streets and into more stable jobs. The centre is tiny and looks after between 120 and 130 small children a day - with only six full-time staff and a cook. The children were overjoyed to see the LCS students arrive. I sat with a little boy on my knee and caught up with my cuddles while I watched the teenage students play, read to or tutor the children. (The photo is of a five of the little girls at the centre in their hand-made uniforms.) For me, this has been the most impressive part of a most impressive school. I've had the most wonderful time here but my workshops are done. Long weekend trip to Lake Volta and then off to meet my sponsor child Elizabeth on Monday. I'll post again when I can!

Day Three - 5 things I love about Ghanaians

2010-02-10T21:41:00.008+11:00

1) They laugh. Lots. On the whole Australians can take themselves way too seriously. When was the last time you saw someone let out a great big deep belly laugh? Ghanaians laugh like it's a gift. Pure and rich and simple. If wealth was measured in laughter I imagine Ghana would come up as one of the richest countries in the world.

2) They are not unattractive to the eye. I'm sure they are out there but I have yet to come across an ugly Ghanaian, and some of them are just jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I think this might also have something to do with the above.

3) They are SO polite. Call me old-fashioned but I LOVE manners. This Ghanaian attribute has obviously influenced the students at the international school here where I am running workshops because just about every student I pass offers me a friendly greeting or a smile. Anyone who has wandered through the corridors of an Australian high school recently will get why this is something I find so impressive.

4)They can carry things on their heads. Along with the baby wrapping I wrote about in an earlier post, carrying a full load of groceries on your head is utterly impressive to me. I had a little practice in the privacy of my room with a single text book and couldn't even keep it up there for three minutes let alone try to cross the floor. This also means Ghanaians have beautiful postures. See note 2.

5) They don't raise their voices. Ghanaians regard someone who loses his temper and shouts as childish and so doesn't deserve to be taken seriously. Anger in Ghana is show in three ways. Here they are in order of gravity.
A little bit angry: 'Ooh! Ooh!' This is a warning that you've displeased them.
Very angry. 'Tsk! Tsk!' A gentle clicking of the tongue
Absolutely furious: Slapping your hand into your palm. Not even slapping someone else but slapping your own palm.

I know I risk sounding like my own grandmother but all the same I will come right out and say: What is there not to love about a straight back, level temper and nice manners? Does it for me every time.

Day Two - Trashy Bags

2010-02-09T21:00:00.003+11:00

What is there not to love about a shop called Trashy Bags? On our way home from school yesterday, my hosts made a detour past the new Trashy Bags store in Accra for me to do a little souvenir shopping. Essentially Trashy Bags employs over 60 people full-time to collect plastic bags off the street, sort them and then recycle them into these SUPER groovy hand bags, shopping bags and wallets. Impressed? I was! We pulled up outside a brand new two-storey building where out the front two women sat amongst a pile of plastic bags sorting them into colour and design. Then, inside the building the first floor was full of men and women on sewing machines turning rubbish into art. And, really, the bags are pure Art, with a capital 'A'. (see pic) Upstairs is the showroom, where all the bags were on display, and before I knew it, I had bought more recycled bags then I could ever know what to do with. (Yep, anyone close to me will know what presents they have coming to them!) I was so impressed not only by the work and design but also the concept. Streets in Accra are unfortunately littered with plastic bags but I was so inspired to think that this kind of intiative exists. If you think you're doing well getting your old milk cartons into the recycle bin on time you really should check this out: www.trashybags.org Now, if someone could only organise Posh Beckham to be photographed carrying the latest Trashy Bag tote - just imagine...

Day One - Snapshots of Ghana

2010-02-08T23:08:00.009+11:00

Wow, I'm here. In Africa. My first time ever and I can't quite believe it myself. After an exhausting flight and suffering a complete reversal of my body clock, I still can't stop grinning just to be here.
My hosts are lovely. An Australian couple who just decided one day to pack up their family and explore the world with their two daughters in tow. Since then they have been teaching in international schools and travelled extensively for over fifteen years. Their zest for life and fascinating stories remind me just how important travel is to broaden your mind and how hard this can be when you live in a country like Australia. Especially when you live right down in Melbourne and it can take many hours (and many dollars) just to get out of the country. In Europe, Asia and Africa you can just jump on a bus or train and within a few hours be in a completely new country: new language, culture and completely different environment. I have a friend who lives in London who has been known to go to Italy on weekends just to catch an opera!

When I first came back to Australia after living in France, this is what I missed the most. Even though we were dirt poor I still managed to get to the Bologna AND Frankfurt book fairs just by travelling overnight on the train to cut down on accomodation costs. The thought of getting to the Bologna Book Fair from Melbourne nowadays seems like a pipe dream.
Anyway - enough about Europe. Let's get back to Africa. Here are my impressions after only half a day here. I will try to attach some photos as soon as possible but, until then, imagine these as photos in words.
Babies tied onto backs with a piece of fabric. (Unfortunately the above is not my photo - I never seem to have my camera at the right time!) Forget all those complicated backpacks and front packs with confusing clips and buckles and straps, I will never cease to be blown away by watching how simply and easily African mothers tie their babies onto their backs. I was fascinated to watch the woman in front of me on the plane, swing her sleeping baby up onto her back, pull out a large square of cotton and just tie him on. Imagine getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around your chest, except with a baby tucked into the back. That's how easy she made it look. And the baby didn't even stir - just kept right on sleeping with his head lolling about in the most awkward looking angle.
The light. It is the end of the season called the Harmattan here, where dust from the Sahara blows into Ghana for about three months and covers everything. Even though the Harmattan season has officially past, the light is strangely yellow from what remains of the dust still in the air, bathing everything in a warm glow. Photos to come - I hope I can somehow capture this light despite my pathetic photography skills!
Speaking in doubles. Not a photo as such, more an expression I am fascinated by. What I understand by this is that instead of using the word 'very' Ghanians say a word twice to convince you of its meaning. Something very small is 'small small', something happening very soon is 'soon soon'. I'm guessing that this use of these double words provides a different emphasis depending on the context, because I had lunch at a school cafeteria today called Zoo Zoo. (Don't know if this is meant as a description of the school or the food - I will keep you posted on this. So far the kids have been delightful and I wasn't served anything that resembled zebra for lunch.)
But that's all I have time for today. So that I don't get into trouble trouble, I'd better log off and prepare my next worksop. Back soon soon!

Into Africa!

2010-02-06T17:34:00.004+11:00

Well, I'm packed and ready to go. Managed to squeeze a couple of pairs of undies and a toothbrush in around all the books and art materials and other stuff I need for my workshops. My request to visit my sponsor child has been approved, my visa has come back in time, I've bought presents, stocked up on anti-Malarials, and have even managed to get my suitcase closed - though god knows how much it weighs! So far so good. A mere 23 hours of flying (!) and I'll be there. Ghana is on the West coast and right on the Equator, so hot and sweaty, I'm guessing. That's fine by me - I love the hot weather. It's also almost exactly 12 hours behind so I'm hoping the jet-lag won't be too bad. Whatever happens, it will be an incredible adventure, I'm sure. Wish me luck!

Book launches in February

2010-02-03T15:18:00.007+11:00

The Race for the Chinese Zodiac

by Gabrielle Wang

illustrated by Sally Rippin

& Regine Abos

10.30am, Saturday 20th February

at Book Bonding

409 Keilor Road

Niddrie 3042

RSVP: Natasha 9374 4458

Bring along your kids to get their faces painted!

Peeking Ducks

by Krista Bell and Sally Rippin

Saturday 27 February 2010

at 2:00pm

Readings Port Melbourne:

253 Bay St,

Port Melbourne

Free, and no need to book.

Out Of Africa

2010-01-25T10:20:00.005+11:00

In exactly two weeks I will be stepping off a plane in Ghana, Africa. I am alternately excited and nervous, having never been to Africa before and having no idea what to expect, but my friend Valanga Khoza, who is from South Africa, assures me Ghana is 'Africa-lite' so I'll be fine.

My booking agency Booked Out have lined up some pretty wonderful school visits for me recently; trips to Darwin, Perth and Beijing, but this one would have to top them all. I am spending four days running workshops with kids in a big international school in Accra called Lincoln Community School, then have a few more days in Ghana before I head back to Australia. Coincidentally, my sponsor child, Elizabeth, lives in Ghana, apparently only a few hours away in an area called Ahanta West Area Development Project (ADP), so I am hoping to visit her on my second last day there. She is now ten years old and have watched her grow through yearly photographs since she was four, so it will be very exciting to meet her and her family, and I'm sure a stark contrast to the comparatively well-off students in Accra. World Vision have been extremely supportive of my visit, but all the same it's been weeks of preparation and forms to fill out including police checks and multiple vaccinations. I am so full of antibodies now I could probably just about trek through any jungle and eat off any floor in Africa! I am still waiting on a confirmation on this before I go out and buy presents. World Vision helpfully suggest a list of presents that won't create jealously or incite thievery so looking down the list I'm thinking coloured pencils for Elizabeth and Australian animal posters for her school might be the way to go.

Apparently, internet connection is dodgy in Ghana but if I can I will try to post regularly throughout my stay there, like a kind of travel diary, including photographs. If I don't have any luck getting online while I am away, I shall certainly write about my experiences when I get back on the 18th February.

Then, it will be straight into a row of book launches: The Race For The Chinese Zodiac on Sat 20th Feb, with Gabrielle Wang. Gabi and I will be painting faces so bring your kids along. The following Saturday Feb 27, is the launch of Peeking Ducks by Krista Bell. Then on Sat March 13, I am launching Gabi's new YA novel. I will post details on all these launches soon.

Meanwhile, can I ask you to check out this website and consider joining Peter Singer's pledge. If you earn under Aud$154,000 (which I imagine is probably most of you), by pledging only 1% of your annual income to charity we could virtually eradicate world poverty. If you earn more, you pledge more. Sounds too easy, doesn't it? Don't take it from me though - Peter's done the research: www.thelifeyoucansave.com - hope to see some of you there!