Tag Archives: bookshops


So I know what you’re thinking …

Thank goodness the rhinoceros is launched. Thank goodness the tour is over. Thank goodness we don’t have to see any more ‘arty’ photos of the book by the beach, or in a boat, or framed weirdly by random sticks. Thank goodness we don’t have to humour any more of Meg’s crazed attempts to draw rhinoceroses in tutus/jumpers/both at once.

Maybe she’ll go back to her cave now and stop shouting LOOK! MY BOOK!

Yes, well. About that.

There’s a little more shouting to come, my friends. Because if September was rhinos, then October is:

this guy …





                and this guy …





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Really, Dymocks?

I was thrilled today to overhear a staff member in the children’s section of my local Dymocks enthusiastically recommending “classic Australian literature” to a stymied grandparent shopping for presents.

I was less than thrilled to hear that her suggestions were “The Naganun [sic] and the Stars, you know, by the author of Snugglepot and Cuddlepie, as well as Picnic at Hanging Rock!”

Dymocks, might I suggest you spend a little less energy on the Coalition for Greater Profits and a little more on staff education?

This One Time, At the Bookshop

I spent some time in Victoria recently, dog- and house-sitting for my brother in a lovely little town called Kerang. While I was over there, I stopped by some schools, which was great fun. And I also popped over to my hometown, Bendigo, to catch up with friends and family. One day, I had lunch with an old friend and then we strolled down to Dymocks so she could buy my book for her niece. Sadly, they were sold out (sold out!) which made me rather happy. So she ordered a copy and we strolled some more and we ended up, as bookish people do, at a secondhand bookshop. And I ended up, as children’s writers do, in the children’s section. And then I saw this:


Annabel, secondhand! I’m choosing to believe that someone loved her so much they just had to share her with the world (it’s my delusion and I’m sticking to it!).