Category Archives: Writing

Shortlist for the 2017 Prime Minister’s Literary Awards


Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull and Minister for the Arts Mitch Fifield had a big, distracting day yesterday (YES!) but today they have actually got some work done and have announced the shortlist for the 2017 Prime Minister’s Literary Awards.

According to the press release there were more than 450 entries and “The 30 shortlisted books showcase the breadth and depth of Australia’s literary talent across six categories—fiction, non-fiction, Australian history, young adult fiction, children’s fiction and poetry.”

This year marks 10 years since the first Prime Minister’s Literary Awards took place in 2008. You’d think that would be long enough for the administrators to get it right but these awards are plagued by issues of timing (no one ever says when the shortlist or winners will be announced).  This year, all they can say is: “The winners will be announced in the coming weeks.” Well, that takes us very close to Christmas and does not leave long for the winners to capitalise on any possible boost to Christmas sales.

Hello government? This stuff is not brain surgery. To add insult to injury, Malcolm Turnbull’s name is spelled incorrectly on the (poorly designed but very fancy looking) website. I used to work for the relevant department (albeit in the Communications portfolio, not Arts), and I still do consulting work there from time to time, so I’m very much aware that the underlying problems are not the fault of the public servants (although the website probably is). Rather it’s the politicians using this prize as a political football. Enough already!

The publishers of each book aren’t mentioned until you click through on each title but in listing the titles below I noticed some interesting trends:

  • Several of the big multi-national publishing firms are completely absent from the shortlist, but Australian independent publishers are well represented.
  • The five poetry texts come from only three different publishers.
  • Three of the five history titles came from NewSouth Publishing.
  • Although the total authors (30) are split exactly 50/50 by gender, women authors are over-represented in the Young Adult and Children’s Fiction category, and under-represented in every other category.

Anyway, my heartfelt congratulations to all the shortlisted writers.


  • The Easy Way Out, Steven Amsterdam (Hachette Australia)
  • The Last Days of Ava Langdon, Mark Flynn (University of Queensland Press)
  • Their Brilliant Careers, Ryan O’Neill (Black Inc)
  • Waiting, Philip Salom (Puncher & Wattman)
  • Extinctions, Josephine Wilson (UWA Publishing)


  • Painting Red Orchids, Eileen Chong (Pitt Street Poetry)
  • Year of the Wasp, Joel Deane (Hunter Publishers)
  • Content, Liam Ferney (Hunter Publishers)
  • Fragments, Antigone Kefala (Giramondo Publishing)
  • Headwaters, Anthony Lawrence (Pitt Street Publishers)


  • Mick: A life of Randolph Stow, Suzanne Falkiner (UWA Publishing)
  • The Art of Time Travel: Historians and their craft, Tom Griffiths (Black Inc)
  • Our Man Elsewhere: In search of Alan Moorehead, Thornton McCamish (Black Inc)
  • Quicksilver, Nicholas Rothwell (Text Publishing)
  • The Art of Rivalry: Four friendships, betrayals and breakthroughs in modern art, Sebastian Smee (Text Publishing)

Prize for Australian History

  • ‘A passion for exploring new countries’ : Matthew Flinders and George Bass, Josephine Bastian (Australian Scholarly Publishing)
  • Evatt: A life, John Murphy (NewSouth Publishing)
  • Atomic Thunder: The Maralinga Story, Elizabeth Tynan (NewSouth Publishing)
  • A Handful of Sand: The Gurindji Struggle, After the Walk-off, Charlie Ward (Monash University Publishing)
  • Valiant for Truth: The Life of Chester Wilmot, War Correspondent, Neil McDonald (NewSouth Publishing)
Young Adult Fiction
  • Words in Deep Blue, Cath Crowley (Pan Macmillan Australia)
  • The Bone Sparrow, Zana Fraillon (Hachette Australia)
  • The Stars at Oktober Bend, Glenda Millard (Allen & Unwin)
  • Forgetting Foster, Dianne Touchell (Allen & Unwin)
  • One Would Think the Deep, Claire Zorn (University of Queensland Press)

Children’s Fiction

  • Home in the Rain, Bob Graham (Walker Books)
  • Blue Sky, Yellow Kite, Janet A Holmes / Jonathan Bentley (Little Hare Books)
  • My Brother, Dee Huxley / Oliver Huxley (Working Title Press)
  • Figgy and the President, Tamsin Janu (Scholastic Australia)
  • Dragonfly Song, Wendy Orr (Allen & Unwin)

Inside the publishing industry


How do books get from the publisher’s hot little hands onto the shelves of bookstores? No, I don’t really know either but yesterday it became a little clearer.

Traditional publishers are part of a logistical chain.

From the sale of each book, every player in the chain takes their cut. However online sales, self-publishing and e-books have increasingly muddied the waters. Still, the typical chain – and the typical cut for each player – looks something like this:

  • Author: 10% (less their agent’s fee, which is typically 15% of that 10%. Bestselling authors get a slightly higher percentage)
  • Publisher: 30% (which has to cover editorial work, graphic design and marketing)
  • Printers: 10%
  • Distributors: 10%
  • Retailers: 40% (which seems like a lot until you factor in bookshop rent and salaries)

Traditional publishers don’t necessarily deal directly with booksellers, or certainly not with every bookseller in the country – they use distributors.  At Text Publishing, I guess through some sort of contractual arrangement, they use the distributors of the big multi-national firm, Penguin Random House.

Yesterday I visited the Melbourne office of Penguin Random House, to pitch my book to the distributors. Two other Text authors were there too (keep an eye out next May for Robbie Arnott’s novel Flames and Jessie Cole’s memoir Staying) as were Text Publisher Michael Heyward and an enthusiastic group of Text publicists. Read the rest of this entry

Help me with this paragraph?


Sydney Cove from Dawes Point – painting by Joseph Lycett,1817. Source State Library NSW

To set the scene, I’m reading my manuscript out loud, to test for clarity and sense. The dog seems nonplussed but the cat is appreciative. I’m also beginning to realise how lazy my pronunciation usually is.

Govvumen. Govvament. Government.


I’m reading the part where it is 1790, Elizabeth has just arrived in New South Wales, and is lonely and bored. It’s the third paragraph (in the second half) where I’d like your opinion – what am I trying to imply? Is it clear enough?

Elizabeth ‘filled up the vacuum of many a Solitary day’ by reading, or by writing long letters in which she complained of having no female friends. None of the other officers were accompanied by their wives. Some of the rank-and-file soldiers had brought wives along, but the class divide rendered any friendships there impossible. Even if Elizabeth was willing to bridge that gap (although nothing suggests that she was), the social habits of a lifetime – reinforced by notions of regimental propriety and proper discipline – prevented the soldiers’ wives from expressing anything beyond mere civilities to the only ‘lady’ in the colony. Reverend Johnson had brought his wife but Elizabeth described her as ‘a person in whose society I could reap neither profit or pleasure.’ The Johnsons were not well-liked – two months after the Second Fleet arrived, the convicts were threatened with the withdrawal of rations unless they attended the Sunday church service. Elizabeth’s antipathy was such that she delayed little Edward’s long overdue baptism for nearly another year.

But Elizabeth’s natural optimism soon asserted itself. Just as she had at the Cape, Elizabeth took the time to look around and appreciate the landscape. ‘Every thing was new to me, every Bird, every insect, Flower, &c in short all was novelty around me, and was noticed with a degree of eager curiosity.’ Elizabeth was herself noticed with a similar degree of eager curiosity by Sydney Cove’s small society of officers, who had endured more than three tedious years of one another’s constant company. Among the officers at least, Elizabeth was instantly, and extraordinarily, popular. They fell over one another to be her friend. Here was a pretty young woman who, protected by her marriage and her child, could converse with freedom and intelligence.

Second Lieutenant Dawes, at twenty-eight only four years older than Elizabeth, was a talented polymath whose skills encompassed engineering, science, surveying, and astronomy. ‘He is so much engaged with the stars,’ wrote Elizabeth, ‘that to Mortal Eyes he is not always visible.’ Elizabeth attempted to learn astronomy from Mr Dawes and he went to great efforts to make models of the solar system for her and to explain the general principles of the heavenly bodies. Elizabeth, though, soon claimed she had mistaken her abilities and she quickly brought an end to her astronomical studies, writing ‘I blush at my error,’ to Bridget and implying that, intellectually, she simply wasn’t up to it. But she may well have been blushing about other things entirely – the evening visits to Dawe’s observatory opened many opportunities for others (including Dawes?) to misinterpret her educational motives. Instead Elizabeth and Dawes sensibly looked to the daytime art of botany and Elizabeth was soon able to class and order common plants.

I then go on with a paragraph about her new friend George Worgan (who gave her a piano), and another about Watkin Tench.

The actual text contains lots of footnotes but they don’t paste neatly in to WordPress. So the sources for all the above are as follows:

  • Elizabeth Macarthur to Bridget Kingdon 7 March 1791.
  • Collins, An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales, August 1790.
  • Edward Macarthur was baptised at St Phillips, Sydney on 1 April 1791. C. Smee, Born in the English Colony of New South Wales 1788-1800, self published, 2009.

Any and all assistance gratefully received!

What do publicists do for authors anyway?


This week I met with my publicist, Alice Lewinsky.

A few weeks earlier she’d sent me four pages of questions: about me, my career, my writing experience, and about the background to my book. She also wanted to know about the likely readership, my marketing and promotional ideas, and the names of people who might provide praise quotes about the book. Answering it all was fun, and a little bit daunting.

So I asked Alice if we could meet, mainly so I could pick her brains about how it was all going to work.

It’s hard to convey how very welcome the team at Text Publishing make me feel, each time I visit. Everyone seems to know my name, know what I’ve written about, know why I’m there that day. My meeting with Alice was no different and she even greeted me with a thoughtful gift – a copy of the latest Brenda Niall biography, Can You Hear the Sea, hot off the press.

Alice, friendly, competent and professional, walked me through all the different kinds of publicity Text would try to arrange for me. In fact, more than six months out from publication (in early April, 2018) they’ve already started pitching me to writers’ festivals. All righty then.

Radio, print, online and maybe even TV – Alice and her colleagues have it all mapped out and, importantly, already have working relationships with many of the key editors and producers. We discussed whether or not I’m comfortable with public speaking (yes, I am); whether I’d be happy to write pieces related to my book (yes, I am); and whether I’d be happy to speak to small groups (yes, I am). I wondered who payed for any travel and the answer is usually the relevant festival, or Text.

Apparently the first month after the book is launched is the busiest, although the next two months are likely to be fairly busy too. Then, as the festivals roll steadily out, the publicity work continues in dribs and drabs. If, for example, I take a trip to Canberra for my day job, I’m to let Alice know so she can try and line up some publicity opportunities while I’m there.

Text will also enter my book for prizes. They have, Alice said, a pretty comprehensive list of all the prizes on offer but if I knew of any obscure ones, she was more than happy to hear about them. And the same for any specialist magazines, journals or websites that might be interested in reviewing or profiling my book.*

In short, what does a publicist do for her authors? Pretty damn near everything, as far as I can tell. I’m feeling pretty lucky.


* And if you know of any obscure magazines, journals or websites that might be interested in reviewing or profiling my book please feel free to let me know!

Drafting a Blurb – the craft of catching a reader


Once I started thinking about blurbs, it became clear how little I rely on them these days.

I usually choose books to read because I’ve already read or heard about them – on blogs, in reviews, in articles, on podcasts. It’s rare for me to pick up a random book, read the blurb on the back and buy it. Even at the library, whether or not a book takes my fancy seems to very much depend on my mood at exactly that point in time.

But that said, when I pick up that book I’ve seen reviewed, or heard about on a podcast, or saw mentioned in an interview with an author – I still read the blurb. And only then do I either buy or borrow the book, or put it back on the shelf. I can’t imagine choosing a newly released book that didn’t have a blurb (although I reckon a classic might get away with it).

Do you read the blurb on the back? How seriously does it influence your reading choices?

Because here I am, agonizing over the blurb for my own book.

Below is the text I’ve agreed with my editor Read the rest of this entry

How to edit a manuscript


So the manuscript is returning to me gradually, a few chapters at a time.

My editor at Text, Jane Pearson, met with me before sending any of it back. For over an hour she walked me through the first few chapters, explaining what she’d done and why. It looks pretty confronting on the page but really, that’s because she’s thorough. If two sentences need to be joined into one, she marks up all the relevant punctuation – delete that capital letter, delete that full stop, add a comma. Nothing is assumed, which in fact makes it easier to work through.

There are no vague statements like ‘add more depth’, or ‘this chapter needs to be shorter’.  If I say something in one chapter, then repeat myself a few chapters later, she lets me know exactly where and on which page the repetitions are, and which I should delete, and how.

The first page, pictured on the right, has more comments on it than most others but it gives you a sense of how it looks. Jane kindly drew up a glossary for me, pictured below, so that I could learn and refer back to the editorial symbols she has used. Again, they definitely help me to accurately understand what she is suggesting. With luck I’ll become fluent enough in their use to be able to apply them to my day job.

Jane has suggested no real structural changes – her efforts are more about weaving the narrative more tightly and 99 per cent of the time I think her suggestions are spot on. Then I think very hard about the remaining 1 per cent. At no point has Jane ever suggested I should accept all her changes without consideration. That’s why she edits in pencil, otherwise she could just use Track Changes, I could press ‘Accept All Revisions’, and we’d be done. Instead I have to work through each of her suggestions manually, one at a time. I’m finding it a useful discipline.

Occasionally I pick up an error Jane has missed, which enables me to feel smug for a moment or two (although obviously it was me who made the error in the first place!) And at least once so far I’ve picked up an error Jane couldn’t have known about, where I used the wrong name for someone – referring to Elizabeth Macarthur’s mother as Grace Hathaway instead of Grace Hatherly. I’ve no idea how that happened. I know perfectly well her name was Hatherly.  I’ve looked up Grace’s father; also, obviously, called Hatherly. I’ve spent time wondering if the family was originally from the nearby village of Hatherleigh. No smugness for me then, just an appalled horror about how easily other errors may have crept in…

Jane also provided a few pages explaining her overall thoughts about the manuscript.

It’s wonderfully researched, rich and fascinating and Elizabeth is an enigmatic and intriguing subject. But there is a problem I feel with the balance between the main narrative and the accompanying background and peripheral detail. Getting that balance right is important so that Elizabeth’s story doesn’t get swamped. There’s a need to be selective, to give details which enhance the flavour of the story and of course give necessary scene setting and context, but not to take the narrative too far into these areas.

These comments came as no surprise and I’ve heard plenty of similar comments along the way. You should have seen how much I cut before submitting the manuscript! But Jane is quite right, there is still more cutting to do and it’s very cathartic to simply discard whole paragraphs at a time. And in my view it is much easier to cut than it is to add, so I’m finding it quite pleasant to trim here, and rearrange there. It’s a great deal like gardening, now I think of it, with all the hard work of landscaping, soil preparation and planting already done.

Next steps? Jane has crafted a back-of-the-book blurb for me, which I’ll share with you in a future post. She also mentioned a launch date in April next year, so that’s exciting. I’m meeting with my Text publicist in the next week or two because I want to pick her brains about what happens – and what is expected of me – once my book is out in the world. The publicist (her name is Alice) has sent me long list of questions, about me and about the biography, the answers to which I presume she’ll use to tout the book.

It really does feel like we’re getting to the fun part… stay tuned!