Checking the pulse
Hello out there!
The pulse is good: 60 beats a minute, resting. After such a long break I thought I’d share that detail in case you’d assumed my pulse had ceased altogether and I’d taken up residence in the Great Library in the Sky. Not so fast.
The big news is that the play of Where is the Green Sheep? opens in Brisbane on June 17th. Judy Horacek, the magical illustrator, has worked closely with Monkey Baa Theatre Company to make sure the play stays true to the look of the book. The play is appearing in 58 venues around the country with 40 more on the waiting list. Thrilling! I’m going to see it myself in the Sydney Opera House on December 11th. I’ve seen a few photos, and it looks divine! Here’s the photo of the sun sheep page.
I keep journal intermittently. A week ago I realised for no particular reason, how happy I was, a magnificent feeling, so I recorded it in my journal with the usual royal blue ink in my usual Waterman fountain pen. We never know when things are going change. Best to record the fact of happiness, I thought, before it wriggles out of sight.
Happiness in mid-2025 could be seen as a cruelty to those in Gaza, Ukraine, war-torn countries in Africa, and highly stressed or disadvantaged populations in countries where their leaders should know better. But I’m not writing a rant. I could. But I won’t. Best to avoid tears, and to concentrate on matters nearer home.
What’s happened since my distant entry in October last year? Yes, yes, I’m mortified by the gap and I’m sorry, but life takes over. I write a lot of presentations. Each one takes two or three weeks to prepare so there’s not a lot of time to play elsewhere. Then I give those speeches to a variety of organisations.
I gave a talk recently at the Fleurieu Festival (in my state) on the importance of rhythmic language in children’s books, and how to learn that sense of rhythm. A woman told me afterwards she’d learnt more in that hour than she had in the many writing courses shed been to. I loved her enthusiasm and was so grateful for it I felt like hugging her, but you can’t go round randomly hugging people these days.
I love my family and play a huge role in each of their lives. I also read and garden. I also have coffee with friends and talk politics and books and Netflix series. I also visit a number of schools under the auspices of the South Australian Premier’s Reading Challenge. I also write from time to time. Are those enough ‘also’ excuses for not keeping this website up to date? Please say yes. I have no others.
I mentioned reading. I keep a book diary, titles and authors only, and a three-star system. If I don’t record the titles I’ve read I don’t remember them. Here are a few (the list would be too long otherwise) of the three-star titles I’ve read recently: The Time of the Child by Niall Williams; The Vegetarian by Han Khan; Vanity Fair by William Thackeray (nineteenth century novels never fail); Ten Minutes and 38 Seconds in this Strange World by Elif Sharak; The Premonition by Banana Yoshimoto; My Friends by Hisham Matar; Guilty by Definition, by Susie Dent; Consider Yourself Kissed by Jessica Stanley; and When the Cranes Fly South by Lisa Risden.
I mentioned school visits. I try to go to schools that are sort of out of reach, that are far from Adelaide, schools that would otherwise never have an author visit. Not all are disadvantaged, although I do love going to those, on the off chance my visit might change a life here and there. (It’s my missionary-parents coming out in me. You can take the girl out of the mission, but you can’t take the mission out of the girl. ‘Girl’ is pretty funny, considering my age.) Here are some photos from schools I’ve visited this year. Hats off to the teachers whose ingenuity, dedication and creativity know no bounds. Here are a few photos form those school visits:
One of the highlights of visiting schools is meeting former teacher education students, some of who are now principals. They bring me ‘treasured’ assignments I might have marked 30 years ago, letters I’ve written them, stories of praise I gave them, such as having written: ‘My heart beat backwards’, which I had said was brilliant. And at a school this very morning a teacher told me she ‘channels Mem’ whenever she’s wondering how to teach something new. It's delightful. There are even those whom I failed the first time, who seem grateful to have had the chance to repeat the course and pass. Good grief! Several of my adored 1973 students took me out to lunch week.
I loved teaching. I retired at the age of 50 in 1996 only when having two simultaneous full-blown careers became untenable. The choice wasn’t difficult even though I wept three times in my final class: once you’re a writer you are, unavoidably, always a writer, thanks to the business side of things, the endless admin, the correspondence, and all the marketing and other hoohah. I don’t regret the choice. Writing picture books has brought me great joy for many reasons. The only thing I ‘m not madly keen on is the writing itself. The rhythm of words! Aaargh. When the first real copy, with very few words, arrives on our kitchen table, years after the first draft, it seems miraculous: ‘I wrote that?’ A big shout out to the illustrators of the stories I write. Without them, would my books have ever seen the light of day? Guess…
I’m speaking at three more major events in Perth, Melbourne and Paskeville (in SA) this year in case you’re interested or close by. I haven’t mentioned Devonport, Tasmania, but that remains a possibility towards the end of the year, all details to come.
All the best in the meantime,
Mem Fox xxx