Cirrus@Austlit

'The writing of this book review and the unusual form it ultimately took came about because of a variety of fortuitous coincidences. To begin with, I was asked if I was interested in writing a review of Indigenous children’s literature for this journal. I was interested, but as a non-Indigenous woman, I felt it would be a better, more accurate review if written by an Indigenous reviewer, so I gave the editors some potential names. The same week, the Ashgrove Children’s Literature Festival in Brisbane, Australia, contacted me and asked if I would like to run a workshop at a private secondary school during Literature Week. I have been involved for some time in the work of embedding Indigenous perspectives in curricula, so an opportunity to apply them to an “authentic” school-based workshop as part of a literary festival seemed too good an opportunity to forgo. The third coincidence: I was getting to know Chenoa Masters, an impressive young Indigenous pre-service teacher. And so this project came together. Chenoa and I decided that we would lead the workshop and review a new Indigenous-authored picture book, Aunty Joy Murphy and Lisa Kennedy’s Welcome to Country, together with the high-school students who took part in the workshop. In the process, we would all engage in what we expected would be an authentic book-reviewing workshop (authentic because it was to be published), with a genuine reason to embed Indigenous perspectives.' (Introduction)

'An apparent resurgence in gender-specific marketing of products for children has been linked to post-millennial anxieties about the destabilizing of categories such as gender and nationality. Although links can be traced to past patterns of gender segregation in print culture for children, in this paper we are interested in tracking incongruities in texts in the present context. In this paper we analyze critically the franchise anchored around Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz's The Daring Book for Girls, which was a publishing sensation in the USA and which led to an Australian edition as well as several follow-up texts. The inspiration for these books came from The Dangerous Book for Boys, originally published in the UK in 2006 by brothers Conn and Hal Iggulden, one of whom had been a teacher, and the Daring books for girls were a direct response to the success of the book for boys. Buchanan and Peskowitz, two American authors of mothering books, approached Iggulden and Iggulden seeking permission to use their design and concept to write a version for girls.'  (Introduction)

'Children’s picture books dealing with the topic of child sexual abuse appeared in the 1980s with the aim of addressing the need for age-appropriate texts to teach sexual abuse prevention concepts and to provide support for young children who may be at risk of or have already experienced sexual abuse. Despite the apparent potential of children’s picture books to convey child sexual abuse prevention concepts, very few studies have addressed the topic of child sexual abuse in children’s literature. This article critically examines a selection of 15 picture books (published in the US, Canada and Australia) for children aged 3–8 years dealing with this theme. It makes use of an established set of evaluative criteria to conduct an audit of the books’ content and applies techniques of literary discourse analysis to explain how these picture books satisfy criteria for child sexual abuse prevention. The analysis is used as a way to understand the discourses available to readers, both adults and children, on the topic of child sexual abuse. Key themes in the books include children’s empowerment and agency, and the need for persistence and hope.'

Lyn's husband, Peter, went blind in an accident two years ago. To help adjust to being sightless, they played games where Peter identified objects through guesswork or memory. To Peter, blindness eventually becomes a sort of blessing, as he learns to become sensitive to everything around him, constantly winning the games he starts pushing Lyn to play.

Peter's condescension and almost omniscient knowledge begins to frustrate Lyn until she realises she is like a slave to Peter. One day, at Peter's insistence (so he can guess what she's chosen to do), they go on a drive. Lyn offers Peter a new test: turning left or right, when she's driving right next to a cliff. Peter chooses right, and they drive off the cliff.