Erica Wagner: 'I had no idea what an editor did, but I wrote to Penguin and asked', Dromkeen Medal - 2017

30 November 2017, State Library of Victoria, Melbourne, Australia

Erica Wagner is the children's publisher at Allen & Unwin Australia.

Thank you, Alison, and the Dromkeen Selection Panel and the State Library for hosting this event. And thank you so much to my colleagues, Anna McFarlane and Eva Mills, who nominated me, to the fantastic team at Allen & Unwin – whose cleverness and sense of fun I appreciate so much every day – and to every author, illustrator and colleague I’ve ever worked with – this is your medal too!

This Robert Ingpen created medal symbolises so much for me. I’m conscious of the calibre of the previous recipients, and their formidable legacies, and feel honoured to be part of the Dromkeen story.

I’ve thought a lot about what I wanted to say today – so much thinking, and over thinking, that this 5-minute response was in danger of turning into 5 hours. While it was tempting to tell you about every book I’ve ever worked on, replay the sweet moments of triumph and vindication, and confess to every publishing error and indiscretion I’ve been involved with, I ended up returning to a simple question. Why is it that I’ve spent so much of my life involved with children’s books … almost 40 years in fact, if you start counting when I was 15, crushing boxes at the back of a bookshop in Brighton … ? What has held me here? The answer is short: books bring together my two great loves, literature and art. Books are the perfect package, still as relevant today as ever. And they have been the steady heartbeat to the dramas of my interior life since childhood. I cannot imagine living life without them.

I was a timid child, so books gave me language for my emotions. They enabled me to be a prince, a pharaoh, a wild white stallion! I grew up in a German-speaking household and so German fairytales, and the anarchic words and pictures of Struwwelpeter, Max und Moritz – very cautionary tales about very naughty children – remain indelibly imprinted in my psyche. I read everything – the entire oeuvre of Enid Blyton and endless animal stories, Mad magazines and Donald Duck comics. My siblings and parents all read to me – my sister reading the entire Hobbit and Lord of the Rings when I was 7 … Even my attempts at stealing were book related … it was a copy of Black Beauty that I pushed up my jumper one dark day when I was 10 … intrigued at how easy that was to do …

I have been so lucky to have found – as Agnes Nieuwenhuizen said so eloquently – the right book at the right time. 

It now seems perfectly natural that my teenage bookshop job continued on and off for 10 years while I studied briefly, travelled, lived in a tent and worked on a tomato farm in north Queensland. I wanted to get a life! Be a writer, be an artist… I’m sure my reading of Tolstoy and romance novels was in part responsible for me marrying a poet at 20 and having two children in quick succession. And it was in the bookshop, where I’d returned again to work when my children were small, that I had an epiphany – that I wanted to be an editor – that is, I wanted to work with books but not with the public. I had no idea what an editor did, but I wrote to Penguin and asked, what do you have to do to be an editor? The reply I received – to get any job in the publishing industry and work your way up, and that secretarial skills would be useful – is why I felt able to apply for a trainee editor position in the newly formed children’s department at Penguin books.

I didn’t get that job – my friend Janie Godwin did! – but a few months later, in July 1988, Julie Watts rang, asking if I was still interested … and did I want to come in for a chat … For some reason, she saw something in the young woman I was then – 25, 2 little kids, wearing a rainbow-coloured jumper and feather earrings (my smartest outfit), pretending I was just a little rusty with my non-existent typing skills. Thank you, Julie, I owe you so much, for teaching me everything about editing and giving me that magnificent lucky break.

I still remember my first day at Penguin, so scared that I would be asked to type 100 letters in triplicate, but instead Julie gave me a Victor Kelleher manuscript to read, and Janie kindly showed me (a few times, until it sunk in) how it was that one put paper into a typewriter …

Those were heady years. I was somewhat star-struck by the famous authors and illustrators striding through the corridors of the offices in Ringwood. The creative process remained a mystery, but I did learn quickly that everyone making a book needs something to help them get their work done … and it’s the editor’s job to find out what that is. I discovered that some authors effectively need to be left alone, some need to brainstorm and bounce ideas off you, some need gentle nurturing and some, stern intervention! Later I was to learn that illustrators could construct epic stories inspired by one hero image.

There were launches, conferences and festivals, and the famous Dromkeen dinners - so many ways to feel part of the wider Australian children’s book community – which remains so strong and supportive even today. I was incredibly lucky to work on seminal books with brilliant authors and illustrators – many in this room today – learning on the job, learning to trust the creative process.

At the end of the 90s, a turbulent time in my personal life, I left Penguin to start Silverfish, a new children’s list for Duffy & Snellgrove, at the same time heading overseas to my first Bologna book fair and some months in the US on the Beatrice Davis Editorial Fellowship. So much happened in that year – things I couldn’t have learnt any other way – but it did end up being a stretch too far, and I finally landed, somewhat bruised, in a new life, with a new blended extended family, at the Rathdowne Street office of Allen & Unwin. My first day was Valentine’s day in the year 2000 – and for the first few months I shared Rosalind Price’s handmade table. Thank you, Rosalind, for picking me up when I was down, and for being such a constant creative support and inspiration.

Allen & Unwin moving to the House of Alien Onion in East Melbourne was the start of yet another chapter, and over the years – as the competition ratcheted up, the book industry was rocked by the GFC, the market became more volatile, and as we realised that things just didn’t work the way they used to, new technology and systems were introduced, our team expanded and changed, we learnt to adapt – some of us kicking and screaming more than others … If this sounds somewhat chaotic, it was …

We had to go back to basics and ask again: What are books and stories for? Of course, they are for children. But where do they fit into the world of screens and endless chatter? Is there still a place for the quieter heartbeat of stories that encourage reflection, a deeper connection? At the most prosaic level, how do we help to keep our company afloat as it wrestles with the relentless financial pressures of rising costs, punishing trade conditions, an increasingly litigious culture. And definitely a more censorious one.

These are crucial moral issues, when so many people depend on you – not just in-house staff and creators, but the entire ecosystem of freelancers ­– editors, designers, photographers – printers, booksellers and our core champions, teachers and librarians, who are under enormous pressures of their own. And it does have an impact on publishing decisions, as we try to balance commercial imperatives with the very different work of nurturing creative people to fulfil their potential …

I honour the creators and champions who have gone before us. And I’m proud of the writers and artists who continue to take chances with stories, with daring imagery, with subject matter. I cheer on the next wave of editors and publishers who remain passionate about Australian voices, who are bringing a fresh perspective on our complex society, who are determined that books should not only reflect our society but inspire readers to be engaged citizens, beyond the algorithms of Facebook, to be thinking and feeling – kind! – humans who can face up to the truth of our past as we head into the future. I believe in our youth, and I believe there is nothing you can’t say to a child - you just have to find the right way of saying it. So they in turn are equipped to find the right book at the right time.

Finally, I want to thank my family, my children and grandchildren, my darling Craig Smith, who have shared this adventure with me, give meaning to everything I do and without whom I would not be here today.

Sofie Laguna: 'Your book, just as you describe the Lyrebird itself, is a keeper of history', When the Lyrebird Calls launch - 2016

27 October 2016, Readings Kids, Carlton, Melbourne, Australia

Sofie Laguna is an award winning author for children and adults. She won the 2016 Miles Franklin Award for 'The Eye of the Sheep'.

First of all, Kim I want to say how beautiful the book looks and feels. Lovely sepia tones and like the story it takes me back to another time. I love the lyrebird in the centre, as you must, as the books central image – a keeper of the past, a symbol from the natural world, an enchanting, elusive and clever bird.

Like somebody else I know.

That was cheeky. I promised myself I would focus entirely on Kim’s book and not tell stories of how I first met Kim and things like that because its not a wedding it’s a launch. I do want to say that when I first met Kim it was through Tony Wilson and it was all about books and writing and it was another launch and Kim was wearing long striped socks – and I was impressed. With heels mind you! That was years ago and I have been impressed many times since then, and not more than I am impressed by this latest addition to her ever-growing body of work for children.

Kim this book, ‘When the Lyrebird Calls’, is wonderful.

I think a book is a kind of transaction between writer and reader. The writer plays her part in the transaction first; she travels with her character, establishing a world, developing relationships, suffering the pain of change alongside her characters. It is the writer who does the imagining first, she must pioneer the territory, chart the waters. Then it’s the reader’s turn, to imagine and travel and experience change and if the writer does her job well, imagines fully enough, goes to the places that the story requires with authenticity, with heart, and with skill, then the transaction is enriching and meaningful and the reader is expanded by it. That’s what happened to me when I read When the Lyrebird Calls; I travelled with the novel’s gutsy heroine, Madeleine, back through time, and I experienced what life was like in a very vivid and sensual way. And I felt expanded by it. This happened to me, because of Kim’s writing.

Kim describes pale yellow dresses as hayseed light, fish swim in a braid of silver, their scales shiny as coins and a lake is as muddy as caramel. Kim draws my attention to these ordinary things – dresses and fish and lakes – so that I consider them in unexpected ways. I see the world through a new lens. She draws my attention to them with elegance, and originality. The strength is in the detail, and Kim’s details are beautiful and they give life to the writing and the story. And they seem effortless, they are cleanly drawn, without a line out of place. Kim uses language, relishes language, its musicality and its playfulness and its possibilities, and that’s what I responded to in ‘When the Lyrebird Calls’.

But it wasn’t only the language, nor was it the playful and compelling young voice of its narrator. Kim’s book made me think. It’s good when a book does that, isn’t it? We take it for granted, but the artist suffers for her story, works the words to within an inch of their lives (and her own!) and because of this work, all this powerful imagining, the reader is given a new awareness. The reader thinks, and asks questions.

I think I have gotten away with taking a great deal for granted, so many years caught up in imaginary worlds, with made up characters – I had the right to vote so what did the past mean to me? When the Lyrebird calls didn’t let me get away with it. It made me think about being a girl, about education, about girls in sport, the media, and body image. It made me ask why is it like this? How has it changed? Why must it take so long? What is it like to be a girl now? What made it happen this way in the first place, why this inequality? This unfair representation? And it made me ask is there some way I can hurry up the change? How can I contribute to something more positive? It’s good when a book can do all this, don’t you think? It’s magic.

All this sounds serious, and it’s true that the questions are serious, but Kim’ writing is funny. Warm and funny. Madeleine’s grandmother watches renovating programs on telly and rushes out to stock up on tools, and Madeleine can’t stay at her best friend, Nandi’s house, because Nandi Mum just had a make-up baby with Nandi’s dad so the timing isn‘t right. And she couldn’t stay with her dad because he is on a cycling trip and nothing ever gets between dad and a bike except his bike pants. Humour, clever comical moments are everywhere in the story and I appreciated every one of them.

Humour brings the story to life, endears me to its characters and their struggles. When there is humour, there is life. It helps me to tackle the story’s more serious questions, it gives the story its humanity. Because life, and human beings attempting to live it, is funny.

Kim, your book, just as you describe the Lyrebird itself, is a keeper of history. Congratulations to you, I am thrilled for you, and I can’t wait for the world to read it.

It is now my great pleasure to declare this book launched.

To purchase 'When the Lyrebird Calls' click here

Kristen Hilton's launch speech

Andy Griffiths: 'If you order a quantity of 300 you’ll qualify for these two attractive milk carton dumpbins', Opening of Readings' Kids - 2016

5 October 2016, Readings' Kids, Carlton, Melbourne, Australia

Welcome to Readings’ new dedicated children’s bookshop. This is the second children’s bookshop I’ve had the honour of being involved in the launching of this year—back in February Little Sun in Yarraville had to move to a larger shop to accommodate demand—which really highlights what a healthy state the children’s book industry is in.

Readings Bookshop, as we all know, occupies a very special place in the heart of Melbourne’s literary scene—it’s the sort of bookshop that welcomes readers and encourages browsing and makes it impossible to leave without finding an essential book you didn’t even know you needed (which is my test of a really good bookshop).

And, apart from ensuring a wide range of brilliantly selected books across all genres, the icing on the cake is that Readings donates 10 percent of its overall profit to The Readings Foundation each year—which assists a variety of charities and philanthropic organisations. And crucial funds are also raised from donations by Readings customers.

Earlier this year Readings was the winner of the Independent Book Retailer of the Year in the Australian Book Industry Awards, as well as winner of the International Bookstore of the Year in the London Book Fair’s International Excellence Awards.

But here at Readings they don’t just sell books, look after readers, win awards and fund worthy causes, they also realise how important writers are to the whole literary process (something that we are all hoping the liberal Government and productivity commission will also realise before too long and before it’s too late).

Readings’ busy events calendar actively provides dozens of opportunities every month for writers to meet their readers up close. They also play an important role in assisting writers to develop their craft by hosting a variety of literary awards: The Readings Prize for New Australian Fiction, The Readings Children’s Book Prizeand the brand-new Readings Young Adult Book Prize. (And they have started a Readings podcast as well, which, really, is just showing off.)

Obviously the staff are a key part of what makes Readings so special. Not to single anybody out, but

Danni’s passion for children’s books just shines through—

and of course, Christine, who has been event organiser for Readings forever, and has the lovely quality of being able to supply the equivalent of at least three hundred-excited-kids’ worth of energy for any event.

All of which reflects well on the managing director of Readings, Mark Rubbo, who I’m here to introduce to you.

Mark is a past president of the Australian Booksellers Association, founding chair of the Melbourne Writers Festival, and on the board of the Wheeler Centre and the Indigenous Literacy Foundation. After an event at the Melbourne Atheneum last week, featuring journalist Stan Grant in conversation with author Richard Flanagan, Readings raised over 21 thousand dollars for theILF. (At this point Mark interjected: ‘$21,680 and 76 cents, actually’.)

Mark was awarded a Medal of the Order of Australia in 2006‘For service to the community through fostering an awareness of Australian literature as a bookseller, literary critic, and promoter and supporter of Australian writers.’

But Mark wasn’t always a bookseller—he began his career as a record seller at Professor Longhair’s Music Shop until the owners of Readings offered him the opportunity to take over their shop.

Which is interesting, because there was another bookselling ‘Professor’ who played a very significant part in Melbourne’s early literary history—Professor E.W. Cole, who created Coles Book Arcade. With around two million books on its shelves, it was reputedly the largest bookstore in the worldand was spacious enough to includea menagerie (featuring a monkey house), a fernery,a toyland, a stationery department, a second-hand book department, a glass and china department, a refreshment roomand a confectionery department.

And, as if all that wasn’t enough, customers of all ages were also enticed with a string band, a symphonion(whatever that is) and a mechanical hen that clucked and laid tin eggs. (Although, to my knowledge he didn’t have a multi-tiered reading hill to play on, or the remarkable wall painting by Marc Martin which you see all around us.)

There were also comfortable chairs to sit in and read books, which customers were encouraged to do so by a sign that read:Read As Long As You Like – Nobody Asked To Buy.

All this novelty was not just for novelty’s sake, however—E. W. Cole was an idealist and his book arcade was designed to entice both adults and children to be lifelong readers; he had the revolutionary idea that the most important thing for turning people onto books—and especially young people—was to help them to associate readingwith pleasure—to which end he self-published Coles Funny Picture Book, one of the most successful children’s books ever published in Australia.

Fast forward to 2016 and the idealist Professor Mark Rubbo is carrying on a fine tradition—not by self-publishing a book—well, not yet, anyway, but by expanding the operations of Readings, his own version of Coles Book Arcade, by opening a dedicated children’s bookshop.

And, speaking of self-publishing, that brings me back to my first encounter with Mark in 1992 when I was as an emerging young writer and self-publisher and he was already a successful bookseller.

Inspired by a poet–bookseller Noodle Egg Rope String—a Brunswick street poet who used to write out his poems on the backs of soymilk containers by day and sell them on Brunswick street by night—I produced a range of pocket books, small 12-page booklets (each with their own ISBN!) which I could produce for 5 cents a copy and sell for 50.

Which is how I met Mark. He agreed to stock them, against his better judgement I might add—he was worried people might steal them (obviously not as much of an idealist as E.W. Cole).

Anyway—once a self-publisher always a self-publisher, I guess—so I thought, what better way to commemorate the launch of Readings first dedicated children’s bookshop than with this specially printed, limited facsimile edition of my first self-published pocket book … Just Tricking.

And, Mark, if you order a quantity of 300 you’ll qualify for these two attractive milk carton dumpbins at no extra cost. They are 100 percent recycled. And look! The spout opens up and people can just put their money in the front, and I guarantee I won’t be coming back to get my money or any unsold books.

Because tonight, as a special offer, to allay your concerns about potential shoplifting, they are all absolutely free.

But I do promise I will be coming back on a regular basis—like everybody here—to purchase some quality children’s books at crazy—but fair—prices.