'Recently, a professor working in the College where I am Dean proposed a new course. The title and topic of the course was ‘Procrastination’. This proposal came before the College Course Selection Committee, which consists of the Dean, some Faculty, Professional Advising Coordinator and some appointed students. Naturally, we did all the requisite jokes: ‘I think we should accept it. Or maybe not accept it. Or accept it. Or … ’ and ‘Is she sure she wants to offer it?’ and ‘Will students know whether they should sign up for it or not?’ Once we had gotten over our proclivity for quipping, we pondered the proposal more critically.' (Graeme Harper, Procrastination : Editorial introduction)
'The picture book is a complex narrative form which makes use of not only literary devices but also visual devices, taking into account the content of the illustrations themselves as well as the way design principles lever and help deliver meaning for the reader. The story a picture book tells – as a form which goes beyond the script – is thereby dependent on more than one mode of discourse. For the writer – authoring what is essentially half the story at most – the nature of the form creates challenges which are unique to picture book authorship. I aim to contribute to the existing critical thinking on the picture book by: mapping the context of scholarly and practice-based discussion; outlining foundational concepts regarding the counterpointing use of visual and verbal modes; and introducing the use of anticipation, direction and accommodation as essential strategies which the picture book author must negotiate. I demonstrate these practices in relation to how other picture book authors have articulated their processes, as well as using my own experience as the author of One Photo (Watkins, Ross, and Liz Anelli. 2016. One Photo. Melbourne: Penguin Random House) as a case study.' (Publication abstract)
'Historical fiction writers can be drawn to the true stories of women who have committed violent or criminal acts, as are readers. Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace and Hannah Kent's Burial Rites are popular, acclaimed examples of this trend. In my own creative work, Treading Air, I fictionalise the life of Lizzie O’Dea, petty thief and sex worker. The women in these stories are vulnerable subjects unable to give their consent, and the often elliptical and unreliable historical records that are the textual traces of their lives, coupled with the discomfort of the voyeuristic gaze, make representations of criminal women in historical biofiction a fraught act.' (Publication abstract)
