Hello, hello, a sad hello…

All I want to say is that this is indeed a black day: Van Nguyen was hanged in Changi Prison in Singapore; the USA legally killed its 1000th death penalty victim since 1976; and the Howard Government in Australia passed laws that will eventually mean that many Australians will soon be working for lower wages over which they will have no control. Do I want to update my website? Do I need to update my website? Is a website blog important in the face of capital punishment, world poverty, the threat of terrorism, rightwing dishonest governments, leftwing dishonest governmnets, the scourge of AIDS, the fear of bird flu, the lack of clean drinking water for much of the world’s poor, and the death and destruction caused by wars that are both legitimate and illegitimate? No. websites are not important and my life isn’t interesting either, in world terms.

But I know people are interested in what goes on, no matter how small and unimportant my life is, so briefly:

I’ve been too busy to raise my head for months. In Oct/Nov I went to the USA and Canada twice, for over two weeks each time, and came home for six days in bewteen. It nearly killed me, I have to admit, even though I loved the eight states or provinces I went to and threw myself into the enormously interesting and varied work I had been asked to do. Interacting with people who are intrerested in literacy, from whatever angle, makes me incredibly happy. Even when I’m steaming mad or aghast or utterly dismayed by some new idiocy in the teaching of reading, I still love the fight and hop into it with all the passion of someone on fire.

I was so exhausted and dispirited about my writing career in October that I confess I wept on the phone to my editor and agent and told them I hated writing, and that all the fun had gone out if it, and that I would never write again, and that I was ‘resigning’ as a writer. They were very good about it. They said that was OK. They said that as I already have five books in the pipeline it wouldn’t matter if I never wrote another word. They said I could forget about The Hungry Giant, the story that was draggging me down. The relief was indescribable. I relaxed. I slept. And on the plane on the way home: Boston-London-Singapore-Sydney-Adelaide, I wrote two new stories for babies: one about two little monkeys, and the other about fingers and toes! I know. I felt like a fool. The stories were accepted for publication within hours of my having finsihed them. Most of you will know that it often takes me more than two years to write a book of 500 words. Suddenly, miraculously, two new stories arrived, unnanounced over 40 hours. It was astounding. I will never be able to explain or understand how it happened. All I can say is I’m a happy to be a born-again writer and I don’t intend to panic or resign, ever again.

In November I met the Queen of Sweden at the Alzheimer’s Association in Adelaide. But I have been interrupted… more later!