How Do You Share?

I've been offline for a while focussing on family and writing but my article on the sharing economy has just been published for and this is a subject well-worth talking about. Living far away from my family and having a young family of my own, I have never craved to be a part of a local community more than now. Then I started reading about the sharing economy and had a burst of hope in my heart for this troubled world we live in. Wouldn't it be great if we could get to know our neighbours like the old days, share stuff we didn't need, counteract this current throw-away society and have more meaningful connections? Yes! Where do I sign up? Er... I mean... download. Paradoxically, while technology is pushing us further apart it's also bringing us closer together. But like everything, you only get out as much as you put in.  

How Sharing Apps Could Change Your Life (And Save You Money)

A Mother's Love

Can a mother love her child too much?

Rachael’s Gift examines a co-dependent relationship between a mother, Camille, and her teenage daughter, Rachael. Camille worships her daughter in an all-consuming, and adoring way that sometimes feels uncomfortable. It seems Rachael gets away with whatever she wants, exhibiting some sly and manipulative behaviour, but it’s soon apparent that Camille is no less controlling and calculating. Together, they push and pull at each other to get what they desire most and Camille thinks nothing of lying on her daughter’s behalf.


Most people would say they would never do this and would not condone this behaviour in others and yet it does happen – probably more often than we think. I know of one mother that lied to the school’s headmaster about the whereabouts of her school-wagging son; another who lied about the age of their child so they could start school early and one who flatly denied their child had been a part of a gang of bullies even though there had been witnesses.


So why would we lie on our child’s behalf? Is it because their behaviour reflects badly on us? Do we love them so much we want to protect them at all costs, even if it means turning a blind eye and acting badly ourselves? Perhaps it is a case of not wanting to address the issue at hand? Most probably it is a combination of all of the above.


Being a mother to a two-year old I am just discovering the emotional complexities that inevitably arise. For the past year my son has shown aggressive behaviour towards his peers – hitting, biting, pulling hair – the usual. I’m told it’s completely normal and is a phase that will pass. It doesn’t make it any more bearable. Once the offence has been committed, hanging my head in shame, I run through a ritual of apologies: console hurt child; ask my son to apologise to the distraught victim; repeat ‘No hitting’ and then separate him from the scene followed by copious amounts of apologies to the parent of said victim. It’s a mortifyingly soul-exposing exercise that makes me wither with embarrassment at my child’s behaviour and reluctantly take responsibility. If I am too tired, it's far easier to stay at home than to take him out, and watch him like hawk with bated breath. I admit, sometimes I have witnessed my son do something and I have wanted to turn my head the other way, smile at the parent and raise my eyebrow with, ‘What? My son? Never.’  

Thankfully, my own mother (incidentally nothing like Camille) inspires me daily with the extraordinary yet everyday feat of having raised five children. I still don't know how she did it! Thanks Mum! 

Happy Mother’s Day! 

A little imagination...

Horace Engdahl, Nobel judge, has caused some controversy with his recent quote that creative writing courses and grants are killing western literature. 

"Grants cut off writers from society, whereas past greats worked as ‘taxi drivers and waiters’ to feed their imaginations." He refers to Samuel Beckett in this instance. 

I'd love to run a poll with taxi drivers and waitresses to find out how much their jobs are fuelling their imaginations. Working as a secretary in the finance industry certainly fed my ambition to get out of there. But how much did it nourish my imagination - a born daydreamer, my imagination was already in overdrive - what else did my office job allow, if not, an opportunity to daydream? And perhaps the odd character. 

In no order, working as a temp, bit-actress, TV production coordinator, film development executive, barmaid, cocktail waitress, nanny and possibly a host of other labels I have forgotten, has given me an insight into human behaviour that spurs me to write (Yes, Mr Engdahl, you are right.) Partaking in a creative writing course (whilst working) only served to shape and encourage my writing. I might not be winning the Nobel prize but life fuels the imagination in many surprising ways - not just working as a waitress and a taxi driver. Just look and listen. 

Wolfe's turf Bondi

Wolfe's turf Bondi

The Landscape Within

The heat of the Australian sun, an instant burn, not easily forgotten. The ocean smashing against the shore, carrying far through the night. The outline of a sail on the horizon. Jagged cliffs dropping sharply into a rocky whitewash. It's dangerously sentimental, but I can't help it. The places where you grow up bury themselves inside you, a hot-iron brand, that glows brighter when closer. It's good to re-charge.  

Macquarie Lighthouse, a setting in RG

Macquarie Lighthouse, a setting in RG

Does the way you look sell your book?

During this week's segment on Studio 10, Joe Hildebrand suggested the reason my book was published was because of the way I look. Talk about controversy! Several people mentioned they were 'disgusted' by this comment and said, 'Looks have nothing to do with it!' and 'It's a shame that hard work had to be boiled down to a discussion about looks.' 

When you submit your manuscript to agents and publishers all you have to rely on is the calibre of your words on the page and nothing else. There's also no photo of me on the jacket cover. 

I was amused by Joe's comment; after all it is his job to create a bit of a stir. Love a juicy discussion. 

Rachael's Gift stands alone.  

Spotted at Sydney Airport - thanks Andre Zahra

Spotted at Sydney Airport - thanks Andre Zahra

So how do you write a bestseller?

If we all knew the answer to this we would all be writing bestsellers. Perhaps we should ask JK Rowling and EL James? The short of it is there is no short cut. Work hard, be passionate and be persistent. Also be honest with yourself about your work. 

Rachael's Gift began seven years ago. Actually, it was long before seven years. I have always wanted to write but I was yet to find the confidence to do so until a little bit later in life. And like any creative endeavour you have to study the craft and hone your skills before embarking as a professional. I was eager to learn, so I signed up to a novel writing course, took a job as a PA in the City, and wrote in the mornings, evenings and weekends. I spoke to fellow students, teachers, writers and industry people and listened to their advice. And I read. I read a lot. All the time and everything. I read books that I aspired to and others that I didn't, fiction, non-fiction, magazines and blogs, and it gave me the goalposts for where I wanted to go with my writing. 

I'm asked if it has been difficult to keep up the momentum over so many years, but the truth is I look back and I have loved it. Of course, there have been challenges, frustrations and set backs but I absolutely loved the process and am really keen to immerse myself again with the next one.

I've been really lucky to get this far and there is still so much to learn; I can only hope that people enjoy my writing.

If you're keen to write a book, just sit down and start writing. But love what you do, it's the only way. 

Thanks so much to the Studio 10 team, Sarah Harris, Jessica Rowe and Joe Hildebrand for your generosity and fab questions on your show today. It was a blast! Had to be dragged off the sofa! 

True to Life?

A question I've been asked is whether the book is based on my life or not. The answer is yes and no. My life is inexorably entwined with RG intentionally and unintentionally. The life of the book evolved over time, as did I, and therefore what I lived influenced what I wrote as I wrote it.  But no, my teenage years were not nearly as exciting as Rachael's. I wish I'd had the audacity to take freedoms the way she does, but the reality is, I was way too much of a scaredy goody-two-shoes!

I will say, however, that there are emotional experiences I've had and certain behaviour that I've witnessed that have become small obsessions and it is these things that I hope I've captured true to life and explored in my book. And I once lived in Paris when I was eighteen but more on that another time.

So why do we do the things that we do? And how far are we willing to go to get what we want? And is it all worth it in the end? #discuss. 

So lovely to see everyone at the launch party last night at Berkelouw Books. I was blown away by all the support. Thank you! 

So lovely to see everyone at the launch party last night at Berkelouw Books. I was blown away by all the support. Thank you! 


We fly in pre-dawn. The sun is yet to break. No orange glints off the silver wings of the plane. No gliding over the majestic skyscrapers and bearing left over a sparkling blue shoreline. Instead, we're met with a bitterly cold wind and darkness, but glad to have arrived in one piece, dragging a cabin-fever toddler behind us, and mentally preparing myself for the fog of jet lag that will descend for the next two days. 

It's this fog that befuddles my brain when later that day, I walk into Mosman's Pages and Pages and see RG piled high next to The Miniaturist, Little Lies, The Paying Guests, among others. My mother-in-law urges me to say something. So I pick up a copy and, (forgetting that I look like a 'before photo' in a makeover segment), say, Excuse me, I've just flown in from London and this is my book. I'm not sure what I expected, but I'm sure I went bright red. The staff were lovely and immediately asked me to sign a bunch. They even took a photo and tweeted. It wasn't until I walked out that I realised I'd signed with the bank signature I've had since I was twelve: acameron in running writing with a ballpoint pen...

There are a few defining moments for a debut author and this is one of them. 


Then we took a stroll down Balmoral. 

Beautiful Balmoral

Beautiful Balmoral

shameless #selfie

There's nothing like the feel of a hard copy in your hands. Book lovers know. The smell of the printed page; the rich texture of the paper, rough as if straight from the tree; the sound of the page turning. Will the hard copy die out? People have feared books throughout history. Hitler tried to burn them. Technology is giving them some good competition. But there's nothing better then to curl up on the sofa with a good one. Does one curl up with a kindle?  

photo 5.JPG

A surprise call from my old neighbour, 'A large box has arrived for you'.

Luckily we were still in touch. I'd forgotten to tell the publishers we had moved... oops. I had imagined  this moment - seen it dramatised in films, and thought it would be quite a defining one. An entire box of your very own first published book. Wow! Indeed, after seven years of labour, I thought we would have been popping the cork, but the birth was much more understated: a simple glass of red, a quiet night in watching a film I have already forgotten, drifting off to sleep on my husband's lap... the spine of Rachael's Gift standing tall on the mantelpiece. A few days later, RG remains in pride of place and I catch myself snatching a glimpse - yes, still there - guilty, as if I am looking in the mirror. 


Hello and welcome...

Thanks for stopping by. 

My first novel Rachael's Gift is being released in Australia and New Zealand this September. I'll let you know what's happening and fill you in on the long journey it has taken to get one foot on this precarious ladder and whether or not I make it to the next rung. 

But mostly it's about reading and writing and discovering life's little inspirations. 

See you soon