'In September a reading group at Tarrengower women’s prison chose one of my books to discuss, and invited me along to the meeting. Till then the only prison I’d ever been inside was the grim bluestone fortress of Pentridge in Coburg, 40 years ago. Minimum-security Tarrengower, in the central Victorian countryside near Maldon, is a very different story, set low in a rolling grassy landscape under a big sky, with stands of eucalypts that fluttered and winked in the sunlight of a spring afternoon.' (Introduction)
