An Interview With: Poppy Nwosu

Posted on 1 May 2019 by Maddy Sexton

In this latest author interview series, work experience student Sian Beatton interviews Poppy Nwosu, author of Making Friends with Alice Dyson. Poppy’s story came runner up for the 2018 Adelaide Festival Unpublished Manuscript Award, but here at Wakefield press we thought her story too good to go unnoticed. Poppy’s book is a romantic story about rumours, friendship, and discovering who you really are.

How do you keep a book interesting?

This is a great question!

For me, I think the biggest key to writing a book that is interesting the whole way through is to keep assessing whether I myself actually find what I’m writing interesting. I am a bit of a selfish writer, so I definitely write the kind of stories that appeal to me and that I find interesting personally, and I think that does make it easier to ensure my story is satisfying (for me at least! Ha!).

The flipside of this is that of course through the process of writing and editing a book, a writer is forced to read it through a MILLION times, so definitely don’t get worried if you end up finding your manuscript less interesting as time goes on. That doesn’t mean your work is no good, it just means you have read it a MILLION times, and that is totally okay.

Did you base any characters on yourself or people you know?

Although I do take tiny snippets from everyday life, I don’t think I have ever based a character entirely off myself or someone I know.

One of the main joys of writing for me is the opportunity to explore the things that make people tick, and often when I begin writing a story I don’t even know a huge amount about the characters myself! It then becomes part of that process of writing just to explore who they are and figure them out.

Actually, one of the most interesting things that has come out of the release of my debut novel, is that I have realised a LOT of people have presumed that the protagonist in my novel is based on me and my high school experience. Funnily enough, this is definitely not the case, and I actually had a lot of fun writing a character like Alice who is quite different to me in almost every way.

Did you base the story on something?

I did!

The original idea was sparked by a cute viral video I watched on the net a few years ago, which featured a caught on camera goofy impromptu dance on the street by two teens walking home from school. I saw the video and just couldn’t stop thinking about who they were and what their friendship might be like, and that really morphed into this love story.

From there I was also influenced greatly by the cute romantic animes (Japanese animation shows) I was watching at the time and also by a book I adore, which is fun and light and moving all rolled into one (Jaclyn Moriarty’s fantastic #LoveOzYA novel Finding Cassie Crazy).

What did you learn from writing this novel?

This is another excellent question, and it made me sit down and think, because actually I’ve never stopped to wonder what I learned!

Probably the biggest challenge for me with writing ALICE was in figuring out how to ensure that the romantic tension between Alice and her new friend Teddy lasted the whole book. I think one of the most difficult parts of writing a love story is in keeping readers invested in that romance until the end of the book. That was a major challenge for me, and I hope that I learned how to accomplish it with this novel.

What do you want your readers to learn form this novel?

To be completely honest, although in hindsight I can see there are themes in ALICE about standing up for others and not buying into stereotypes etc. when I was actually writing it I never thought much about trying to teach anyone anything. There are ideas in it that I definitely wanted to explore myself, but none that I felt like I wanted to teach.

In a lot of ways, and this may sound bad or weird, but I don’t know if it matters to me if readers can learn anything or not from what I write. I have always been of the mindset that fiction should make you feel something, and that is what I mostly set out to do. By writing the kind of story that I find realistic and romantic, that makes me feel happy, I think I hoped to make readers feel happy too.

How do you put emotion into your characters?

Right here you have hit on my absolute most favourite element of any story! Actually, I am obsessed with getting emotion across within my work, and one of the hugest parts of writing ALICE for me was to develop a love story that felt ultra possible and realistic, and create characters whose emotions readers could recognise and identify with.

I think every writer probably has different story elements that they most identify with and that they most want to bring out in their work (for instance, twisty plots or interesting fresh ideas etc.) but for me, embedding emotion into my characters and stories is always highest on my list. The easiest way I have found to do that is to really think deeply about a character’s reactions and actions, and think about how everything that occurs within the story might truly impact them and make them feel if they were real.

I think a great way to almost ‘learn’ emotions is also to read other books and watch movies and tv, and start analysing the character’s reactions within their stories. I often think, if that person was real, as in truly alive and real within that world, would they truly react that same way or would their emotional reaction be different? This is actually the thing that can make or break a story for me. For instance, a story could have the most interesting satisfying plot in the world, but if the emotions and emotional arcs of the characters don’t ring true, if it doesn’t make me feel anything, then I won’t be able to love it.

Sometimes I think the stories we read or watch can almost occur in heightened realities, and therefore emotions in those stories can sometimes lose their grounding and depth, and end up feeling less impactful because they don’t feel true. I think that is okay to have stories like that, but personally I am always more moved by, for instance, a love story that feels grounded in true emotion, where the characters feel like they might actually continue to love each other long after the credits roll or the final page.

Gosh what a huge answer! Sorry! But you got me started on a very special topic! 🙂

How do you come up with an interesting ending to your stories?

Oh, this is a fun one to answer! Endings for me are very difficult, because I usually have only a very vague idea of where the story is going to end up when I begin writing it, and definitely no end scene or final plot point in mind. Which means I am usually left in a state of indecision by the time I make it to the end, wondering how to make it work and how to keep it interesting.

With ALICE, I really didn’t know how I was going to end the story, but I guess for me, as we discussed above, it does always come back to the emotion in the narrative. Most of all I wanted to write an ending that had a good emotional resolution for the characters, and when figuring out how to finish the story, I focused mostly on what felt right in terms of the character’s journeys, their emotional arcs and the love story itself. In some ways, I suppose the plot came second, and I figured it out later as a framework to prop up how I wanted the emotional side of the story to end.

Now that I think about it, I suppose that is the way I usually approach the ending of all the stories I write!

Want to experience the journey of Making Friends with Alice Dyson? Visit Wakefield Press at 16 Rose Street, Mile End SA 5031 or shop for the book online.

Keep an eye out for an interview with Sian, coming to the blog soon! In the meantime, follow Poppy’s writing journey over on her blog.

Extract: The Australian War Memorial

Posted on 25 April 2019 by Maddy Sexton

In The Australian War Memorial: A century on from the vision, Steve Gower, the highly successful director of the Australian War Memorial from 1996 to 2012, gives a comprehensive account of the development of the Memorial from its inception just over a century ago.

The book recounts the many challenges in establishing the Memorial and then in developing further its galleries and displays, the extensive collection, associated events and the overall supporting facilities. It also goes behind the scenes to provide insights into the many facets of a major, modern cultural institution.

In this extract from the final chapter of the book, Gower reflects on the importance of the Memorial, as well as the way the Australian people. have interacted with the Memorial over the years; some with disdain and contempt, others with a sense of solemn pride. He notes that directors past, present and future have always had the betterment and preservation of the Memorial at the front of their mind.

Reflections

It seems relevant to ask why so many people are interested in what happens at the Australian War Memorial and why such passion is aroused at different times. I would suggest the reason is that the Memorial deals unmistakably with an agreed, major Australian narrative, not the only one but. arguably the principal one, which had its origins in the Gallipoli campaign and which has resonated with successive generations. That narrative has been challenged and dismissed by some: others demand that it be interpreted their way. Minorities have attached what they believe it stands for and have confidently predicted its imminent demise. Notwithstanding, the narrative has survived and is probably stronger now than it has ever been. It belongs to the Australian people, with all their strengths, weaknesses, pride, foibles. and innate decency, who by their support have expressed their satisfaction with its very essence. it comes from the people voluntarily, not imposed from above.

The Australian War Memorial, as a custodian of the narrative, belongs to all Australians. It’s not owned by the defence force, whose members carry the burden of the nation’s expectations that they live up to the values implicitly recorded there. I have no doubt that can be a source of strength and resolution for them in fulfilling their duty. The .institution is not owned by veterans, despite their service and sacrifice and the fact that some regard it as the sacred cathedra of a secular Anzac religion. And it’s certainly not owned by the staff of the Memorial, the Director, historians, curators, or the like. Having said that, every Director and staff member down the ages has believed strongly in the Memorial and had its interests and advancement to the forefront of their minds.

The greatest privilege conferred on all staff is holding temporary stewardship of the narrative. and its contemporary meaning. In accepting this task, it’s their challenge to meet the collective high expectations the general public has of this great. and uniquely Australian institution. This sometimes requires a degree of resilience and fortitude not usually associated with museums and a sensitivity to nuances and subtleties.

In 2015 I asked Peter Burness, that long-serving. servant of the Memorial, what he thought Bean’s reaction would be were he to come back now. Burness thought he’d be thrilled. Bean’s vision had not only blossomed. but flourished, perhaps well beyond his original dreams. he might even be a little surprised by. the esteem with which it is held by the public, and its prominence as the central repository of .Australia’s remembrance of war. The Memorial is a great tribute to his. determination, persistence, and powers of persuasion in seeking the fulfilment of his vision.

As for Treloar, I believe he, too, would be pleased, but as an undemonstrative, hard-working, self-contained man, it is probable that he would suppress any satisfied smile. But inwardly, he’d be very proud of seeing how the place to which he’d devoted his life had progressed. His life’s work has become a lasting legacy, as he had hoped.

Both would be well pleased with how the record has been guarded over the last century. And so should anyone else who has been associated with the Memorial, in whatever capacity.

Steve Gower was Director of the Australian War Memorial between 1996 and 2012. He is a Duntroon graduate and Vietnam veteran who gained an Honours degree in Engineering from the University of Adelaide, followed by a Masters degree by research. He spent 37 years in the Australian Army, attaining the rank of major general before resigning to become the ninth Director of the Australian War Memorial, a position he held for over 16 years.

To purchase a copy of The Australian War Memorial: A century on from the vision, visit us in our Mile End bookshop, give us a call on (08) 8352 4455, or find the book in our online web shop.

Colonial Settlers, Paradise and One Degree of Separation

Posted on 18 April 2019 by Maddy Sexton

The running joke in Adelaide is that everybody knows everybody. It isn’t six degrees of separation in this town – it’s one.

If you meet someone new it won’t be long before you discover that you both used to have so and so living next door to you or that you are actually second cousins once removed or that you both dated Jamie Darcy when you were in your twenties.

I experienced the book form of this phenomenon when I read In My Mothers Hands by Biff Ward on the weekend.

In it there was an interesting anecdote about how her grandfather was the reason that the suburb of Paradise was so named. I had always wondered at the name, and assumed that it was a hopeful moniker slapped on it by a developer. In fact, it was named after the Paradise Bridge Hotel, owned by Joseph Ind. He was quite the character, as were many of Biff’s relatives, including her father, the man who was the first person to collect Australian Settler songs like Click go the Shears.

At one of Wakefield’s book launches, Big Rough Stones by Margaret Merilees. I bumped into a friend of mine who was there with her mother: Biff Ward.

The one degree of separation thing happened again this morning when I picked up our book Colonial Settlers On The River Torrens. This book is about the first generation of European settlers to take up properties on the upper reaches of the River Torrens. They were the first to intensively cultivate the land in the present-day suburbs of Campbelltown, Paradise and Athelstone.

Flicking through the gorgeous pictures I spotted one of the Paradise Bridge Hotel. There I found the story of Joseph Ind, melon grower, hotel owner, and Biff’s grandfather and local character, in what was later to become Paradise.

Joseph Ind and many other local characters are remembered for their many achievements settling the areas which we now know as Paradise, Campbelltown and Athelstone. Importantly, their harsh treatment of the Kaurna people is also remembered, acknowledging that the titular settlers were not the first to live on the land.

As my experiences go, a flick through the beautifully-curated pages of images and research by Dr Roger Irvine might reveal some names familiar to you too – we are in Adelaide, after all.

By Emma Sachsse, Wakefielder by day, writer by night. Find more of her work on Medium.

To purchase a copy of Roger Irvine’s Colonial Settlers on the River Torrens, visit us in our Mile End bookstore, give us a call on (08) 8352 4455, or find the book online at our webstore.

Book Review: Making Friends with Alice Dyson

Posted on 25 March 2019 by Maddy Sexton

Our intern Jessica Hartman reviews debut author Poppy Nwosu’s Making Friends With Alice Dyson, the first in Wakefield Press’s dedicated Young Adult Fiction list led by Margot Lloyd.

Making Friends with Alice Dyson CVR V6.indd

Whilst reading this text I have fallen in love with, become exasperated by, and completely related to Alice Dyson, the protagonist Poppy Nwosu has so artfully created. The text delves into issues of social anxiety, peer pressure and bullying, self-identity, the feeling of being trapped on a path that you are unsure that you want to go down, and the ability to be brave and be yourself in the face of all of it. And of course, young love.

The catalyst of the plot revolves around one Teddy Taualai, who in his endeavour to enter Alice Dyson’s life upsets the balance with her friend May, her relationship with her demanding parents, and Alice’s carefully-planned future.

Throughout the novel Poppy threads through brilliant one liners that give her characters and their struggles an achingly realistic relatability. The characters practically jump off the page. It is these one liners that are both humorous but also incredibly real, that allow her to tackle hard issues like bullying in such a way that feels less like you are being lectured rather than you are getting a glimpse behind the curtain of adolescence.

But I do decide I need to do something. May holds her head high every day even when she’s bullied… and it makes me want to be brave too.

Alice’s personal growth is the shining light of the story, and her commitment to her own feelings and desires, while flawed, feels incredibly real. Her relationship with Teddy Tauali is awkward and gentle and incredibly genuine, and Teddy’s character is the sort of person many readers will find themselves wishing they had a chance to meet. This is a beautiful, tender story about endeavouring to be true – to your friends, to your family, but most importantly, to yourself.

View Wakefield Press’s other Young Adult Titles here and here. Stay tuned for an interview with Jessica, coming soon!

An Interview with: Claire Morey, Intern

Posted on 4 February 2019 by Maddy Sexton

Meet our wonderful intern, Claire, who recently completed her Honours degree in history (and then plunged right into a two-week stint at Wakefield Press!). Claire talks about the importance of self-aware history writers and the impact university has on reading habits.

What is the first book you ever read?

One of the first novel-sized books I can remember reading is probably Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. It seems to be the most memorable, maybe because I loved the edition and Quentin Blake’s illustrations so much.

What attracted you to doing your internship at Wakefield Press?

I’ve wanted to work in publishing for quite a long time but I hadn’t really thought to pursue it while I was studying. Now that I’ve graduated and have a lot more spare time I thought it would be a great opportunity to get involved with the publishing industry.

At the end of your internship, what are your thoughts about working in publishing?

I really enjoyed the internship! It’s helped me to solidify my interest in editing and proofreading, but it was also very interesting learning about other roles and how things operate behind-the-scenes.

You’ve done an Honours degree in history, so you must have read a few history books. What makes a history book engaging? And do you think history can tell us about the present as well as the past?

I really enjoy history books and historians that acknowledge their subjectivity and their inability to present a set of complete truths. In particular, history books that really cleverly weave together narrative and history with the past and present are the most engaging to me. A good example of this is Slicing the Silence by Australian historian Tom Griffiths. He is really fantastic at communicating history through interconnecting stories and historical figures in a constant conversation between past and present. Engaging historical writing can often read much like a novel.

What’s the last book you read and loved? What did you love about it?

Mary Lee: The life and times of a ‘turbulent anarchist’ and her battke for women’s rights by Denise George (published by Wakefield Press)! I really loved learning about a woman who, despite being so integral to the women’s suffrage movement of both South Australia and Australia as a whole, is hardly remembered or talked about in schools or general society. Reading such a captivating book has me thinking that primary and secondary school history could be far more interesting if we focus on incredible local historical events, such as women’s suffrage in South Australia and the women who fought so hard for it, rather than learning about the First Fleet over and over again.

What’s the last book you read and hated? what did you hate about it?

I don’t think I ever really hate books! It’s possible I only pick things up that I think I will like at least a little bit, so maybe I’m not that experimental in my reading choices. One book that I remember really struggling with was The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon. Perhaps it was a bit too postmodern for me back in first year university, I think I could handle it a bit better now (maybe).

How do you find out about books you want to read?

I get a lot of recommendations through friends, family, my boyfriend and uni. I also follow a YouTuber (Leena Norms) who works in publishing in London, so that has been a great way to discover contemporary titles that are being published.

Where do you buy your books? (In a bookshop, online, second-hand … Or do you use libraries?)

A combination of all of them! If there’s a book I really want then I’ll buy it, and if it’s a lot cheaper online then I am a bit guilty of buying books from Book Depository. I do like finding second-books and recently I’ve been trying to use libraries more often, but I do enjoy owning books, especially if I’ve really enjoyed it and want to reread it.

Does studying influence the kinds of books you read? (Other than set texts, of course!) If so, how?

Yes, I did English and History at uni so studying English got me very interested in a lot of classics as well as postcolonial literature.

Only in the last few years have I read many history books, which I never would have known about if it weren’t for studying history at uni. Studying history has also given me a far greater understanding and interest in Australian history.

How do you feel about reading on-screen? Do you read e-books as well as print books? (And if you do both, what’s the split, time-wise?)

I much prefer reading print books, I only really read e-books if a print book isn’t available.

If you were banished to a desert island and could take three books with you, what would they be and why?

This is very hard! First I think I’d pick The Art of Time Travel by Tom Griffiths because it’s a great compilation of Australian and Indigenous history and it’s really well written. Next maybe The Story of Art by EH Gombrich because it is so incredibly packed with information so would use up a lot of time while stuck on an island. The last one would probably be Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë as it is such a lovely, easy read that never gets old.

Claire recently reviewed Mary Lee: The life and times of a ‘turbulent anarchist’ and her fight for women’s rights by Denise George. Lauded by Natasha Stott Despoja as a book that should be in all schools, click here to find out what Claire thought!

Stephen Orr on growing up in suburban Adelaide

Posted on 25 January 2019 by Maddy Sexton

The #tenyearchallenge has been dominating social media for the past few weeks, but today author Stephen Orr looks even further back in this 2006 article about his childhood in the suburbs of 1970s Adelaide.

Keep an eye out for Stephen’s next novel, This Excellent Machine, which will be released in April 2019.

Smith Street

I want to tell you about the street I grew up in. We’ll call it Smith Street, although some of you will work out where it really is.

Smith Street was asbestos homes on stumps. One family (I’ll call them the Hanrahans) had a brick home, and they were the envy of the neighbourhood. Mr Hanrahan was a policeman and often brought his work home (unless that was someone else’s paddy wagon parked in his driveway). That was the most exciting thing in Smith Street. Everyone else’s parents worked at Woolies or drove taxi trucks. The milkie left two bottles, scummy with cream, and the baker always pulled up in front of our house (something to do with finger buns).

Mrs Jolley lived next door with a dozen cats and her middle-aged son, a doctor who’d retired early and gone on to grow a Catweazle beard, spending his days writing poetry and slashing waist-high grass with a scythe. Mrs Jolley would often babysit me and my sister after school. With her yellow smoker’s fingers and teeth and a Scottish accent she was a marvel, serenading us with stories of the old country as she drank one cup of tea after another.

The gardens of Smith Street were filled with diosmas and rampant mint, and overgrown with soursobs in winter. We had dirt footpaths, lined with cracks, carpeted with three-corner jacks. The local Ford dealership tested their cars up and down our street and the Kentucky Fried Chicken on North East Road filled our yards with the aroma of the Colonel’s luscious thighs. The smell came into our bedrooms and laundry, and even snuffed out the stench of laurel sulphate on the freshly waxed floors.

Further along Smith Street there was a basketball stadium. It had a barren car park of blue metal, gum trees and rubbish blown over from the main road. Opposite the stadium there was an old hall, hemmed in by wild oats and heliotrope. It was called Polish Hall, and as a little person I always thought this meant the floors would be extra shiny. Eventually I worked it out, looking for small people in peasant clothing whenever we went past. But it was always empty. It seemed hard to believe there were or ever had been any Poles (or Russians, or anything exotic) in Hillcrest. Sometimes the hall was used for dances on Saturday night – mostly DJs, but sometimes a band. I used to sit at my window and listen, watching the moon cast tree shadows across our freshly mowed Santa Ana.

Back in the seventies, Smith Street kids formed gangs and rode around on dragsters. But then we grew up and moved out, and our parents left, leaving those old homes to go to seed – weeds, always weeds (the only plants that flourished in that soil), homes cracking down the middle because they hadn’t been restumped, and brick cladding broken and falling off (and anyway, everyone knew it was only brick cladding – only the Hanrahans had the real thing).

Smith Street finished at 78 (as did most of its inhabitants). Then there were just empty paddocks – Elysium fields full of Paterson’s Curse – where kids fought on the ‘mound’ after school. That always had a good turnout. And further still, Housing Trust ‘half-houses’, and our primary school, distributing free milk to every student, five cent cups of soup for winter lunch and the promise that we’d all grow up to drive Kingswoods.

And that was, or is, Smith Street. The only street to fill the only childhood I’ll ever have, for better or worse, weedier or landscaped, DJ or live. Beyond number 78 there’s nothing except the knowledge that the whole lot will soon be gone, the wreckers already beying (courtesy of a greedy government) for the hundred house plots where I learned to read and write. Homes knocked down and rebuilt – the smell of Sunday roasts and rosemary hedges, the sight of husbands coming home tanked at eleven pm, the stories of people who died of cancer or heart attacks, who were there one day and gone the next – all of this lost, our songline subsumed for units and Tuscan townhouses (their yards still heavy with eleven herbs and spices).

All gone – which isn’t as bad as it sounds. That’s the story of our city, and suburbs, and life. I think we’re all extras in a crowd scene from some film that never got great reviews. And one day, years later, we see the re-run on Gem. We watch it and say, ‘There I am, there!’ We see our face for a second or two. Then we go back and watch it again, thinking, I thought I had a bigger part than that.

Stephen Orr was born in Adelaide in 1967 and grew up in Hillcrest. He studied teaching and spent his early career in a range of country and metropolitan schools. One of his early plays, Attempts to Draw Jesus, became his first Australian/Vogel shortlisted novel, published in 2002. Since then he has published seven novels, a volume of short tories (Datsunland) and two books of non-fiction (The Cruel City and The Fierce Country). He has won or been nominated for awards such as the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize, the Miles Franklin Award and the International Dublin Literary Award.

Stephen Orr is married and lives in Adelaide.

An interview with: Layla Moseby Read, work experience student

Posted on 24 January 2019 by Maddy Sexton

Layla Moseby-Read, a year 10 student at Scotch, recently completed a week of work experience at Wakefield Press. Layla comes from a strong publishing background; her dad’s book, Dear Grandpa, Why?, was published by Wakefield Press earlier this year.

Layla Moseby Read, work experience student

What is the first book you ever read?

The first children’s book I ever read properly myself was called A Year on Our Farm by Penny Matthews. I had actually won the book at school and I think that I was about five or six years old when read it. The first sort of novel that I can remember reading was Geronimo Stilton Christmas Catastrophe by Elisabetta Dami.

What attracted you to doing work experience at Wakefield Press?

I wanted to do work experience at Wakefield Press because I have always had a keen interest in English, and for as long as I can remember I have loved to read. At the start of this year I had to complete a test called the Morrisby test that assesses all of your strengths and weaknesses through a variety of different investigations. It collaborates all of the results and gives you a few ideas around potential career options that you would suit. For me my number one suggestion was an editor so I wanted to get a bit more of an idea about this job and if I wanted to pursue it in the future, and that’s why I chose Wakefield Press.

At the end of your work experience, what are your thoughts about working in publishing?

I really enjoyed doing work experience here and I do think that it is one of my higher ideas for a career. I really liked the environment that is associated with editing and publishing and how relaxed yet productive Wakefield Press is. This sort of flexible and strong work ethic really suits me, and I like the idea of working in a job like one at Wakefield Press. If I did go into a career to do with publishing there are so many different jobs within publishing and I think that this would help me to get on the right track but not have to be locked down into a specific role just yet.

Do you think boys read differently from girls? If so, how? If not, why do you think so many people believe that?

I think that boys and girls don’t necessarily read differently but there are different expectations for books that they should read. There are definitely books that are specifically aimed at each gender and I think this impacts the way boys and girls read. In our society it is typically thought that girls read more romance or classics whereas boys are more into the action and adventure side, but this is not necessarily true. So, I don’t think that boys and girls read differently but just they read different types of books.

What’s the last book you read for fun? What was fun about it?

The last book I read for fun was Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine and it was about a middle age lady suffering from a mental health issue. I believe that it was a ‘fun’ book for me to read because it was really intriguing and there was this big mystery throughout the entirety of the book. This drew me in and kept me hooked the whole time. It is also something a bit different to my typical reading style so I enjoyed the unpredictability and uniqueness about it.

What’s the last book you read and hated? What did you hate about it?

I can’t remember ever reading a book and hating it but I do remember starting the book Maze Runner and disliking it enough to not finish it. It’s not that it was written badly it’s just that it’s not really my preferred style and genre. It was also a bit unrealistic and incorporated too much science fiction to suit me. I prefer books that are true-to-life or that are partially based on past events.

How do you find out about books you want to read?

To find books that I want to read I either choose books that were suggested to me by friends or family members, or I take my time browsing the library or bookstore reading the blurbs of books to find one that I think sounds good. My mum is often the main way I find out about new books because she reads quite often and knows what sort of books I like and enjoy reading.

Name a book or books that changed the way you think- in any way at all, large or small.

When I was around 12 I read the Once series and this really opened my eyes to how horribly innocent people were treated in WWII. By reading about what Jewish people went through, it made me realise again how lucky I am to not be faced with that much hardship or distress in my life.

Based on what you see around you, do you think teenagers read more or less than they used to?

I think that there are quite a few teenagers that still do read a lot but because many different influences, like technology, it’s not as much as what it used to be. I believe that not everyone has to love reading or read every day just that they have to be able to read quite extensively and understand what they are reading. Reading is still in the school curriculum so I believe that most teenagers still read books even if it is the one that is assigned to them in class.

Who is your favourite author and why?

I don’t really specifically have a favourite author and it really changes the older I get. A few years ago I really enjoyed Robyn Bavati’s books and although I still, do my reading style has matured. If I had to pick an author now it would probably be Sunni Overend because her books are enjoyable to read and I think that they have a good plot line.

If you were banished to a desert island and could take three books with you, what would they be and why?

I would probably take Pirouette by Robyn Bavati, Animal Farm by George Orwell and The Dangers of Truffle Hunting by Sunni Overend. Pirouette has been one of my favourite books for a long time and it is a pretty easy book to read and that is what I like about it. Both Animal Farm and The Dangers of Truffle Hunting are books that haven’t read yet but have wanted to for a long time. I have read other books by Sunni Overend, so I think that I will enjoy this one, and Animal Farm is a classic, with an allegorical style that interests me.

Want to complete your work experience at Wakefield Press?

Email Maddy to get the ball rolling.

‘There is no finality in human progress’: On Mary Lee

Posted on 21 November 2018 by Maddy Sexton

Wakefield Press intern Claire Morey recently graduated from the University of Adelaide with Honours in History. While she was here, she read and reviewed Denise George’s Mary Lee: The life and times of a ‘turbulent anarchist’ and her battle for women’s rights. Natasha Stott Despoja, who launched the book this month, said it should be in every classroom in every South Australian school. Read the review to see if Claire agrees!

Mary Lee: ‘There is no finality in human progress’

In this book, Denise George offers us the wonderful story of women’s suffrage campaigner Mary Lee. Enshrined in a bronze bust outside Government House in 1994, Lee has often been forgotten from Adelaide’s early history, which has long been dominated by the colonial men whose names adorn the city streets. One hundred years before the bust was constructed, Lee spearheaded the campaign for women’s suffrage and sought to improve the rights of all South Australian women, especially those who were considered destitute.

The book begins with a thorough background into Lee’s Protestant working-class upbringing in Northern Ireland where ‘famine, starvation, disease, poverty and death marked her formative years’. Due to the dire situation wrought by the Great Potato Famine, increasing revolutionary sentiment in 1840s Ireland, and Lee’s basic education (even that rare for a woman of her class), she set out to pursue a long life of social justice to improve the rights of the working class and women.

“famine, starvation, disease, poverty and death marked her formative years”

Before Lee arrived in Adelaide as a 59-year-old widow, she lived in Cambridge and later London with her husband George Lee and their children. Shocked by the lack of education for young women in London, she opened The Young Ladies Educational Institute in Hammersmith in 1860. Here, she taught girls literature, history, geography, natural science, language and religion in order for them to seek the same professions as young men. Despite the success of the school, tragedy struck when Lee’s son, Ben, who had recently moved to Adelaide, wrote home about his tuberculosis diagnosis in the late 1870s. So began Lee’s journey to South Australia with her daughter Eve in November 1879 aboard the Orient.

In South Australia, Lee not only advocated for female suffrage, but she also campaigned for the rights of all disenfranchised South Australians. She was shocked by the poverty and prostitution that ravaged the inner city, and as part of The Social Purity Society she helped to raise the age of consent for women. She travelled to countless country towns advocating the rights of both the impoverished rural working-class and women. Likewise, she despaired for the position of Indigenous people and the mentally ill in South Australia.

Her founding role in the Women’s Suffrage League and her controversial position as an outspoken foreign widow pushed her into a long and spiteful war with the press and much of Adelaide society. In part due to her strong Primitive Methodist faith, which was known for its forward-thinking social justice causes, Lee was a revolutionary who despised the conservative colonists in Adelaide. Reacting to British Prime Minister Gladstone’s opposition to female suffrage, Lee declared: ‘Dear old England swathed and mummified in centuries of tradition and prejudice … Will not, cannot, a young vigorous nation create its own precedent?’

‘Will not, cannot, a young vigorous nation create its own precedent?’

Despite the considerable opposition to women’s suffrage, Lee persisted in her constant campaigning efforts, all the while receiving no wage or benefits. In 1894 when South Australian women gained the right to vote and be elected to sit in parliament, the first place in the world to achieve both reforms, Lee found herself in dire circumstances with no money, deteriorating health, and few remaining children to come to her aid.

George begins the epilogue with a quote by Lee – ‘There is no finality in human progress’ – particularly significant, as the revised Commonwealth Franchise Act (1902) allowed women the right to vote, but prevented any Indigenous Australian, Asian, African or Islander the same freedom. George’s book is a fascinating, well-researched, and touching tribute to one of the most important women in our local and global history.

Perhaps most moving is the way George connects Lee’s remarkable life and achievements to the struggles of women in the contemporary Western world today. In the era of the #MeToo movement, when many women continue to be denied their basic rights to gender equality and Western governments are still largely dominated by men, Mary Lee’s remark is just as pertinent as it was in 1893: ‘What is democracy? A government of the people, for the people, by the people. How can a government of men, for men, by men, be a democracy?’

Mary Lee: The life and times of a ‘turbulent anarchist’ and her battle for women’s rights is available in all good bookshops – and at our bookshop at 16 Rose Street, Mile End (or online).