Hello, my name is Tania and I'm a bookaholic.
As part of my therapy, I'm starting this lengthy blog post with my latest book buys. Please don't hate. We need to keep the book industry alive, and I've signed a few contracts of late and I haven't bought holidays or shoes (okay, well, I'm lying about the shoes part) and I'm a grown gal and I can spend my earnings on whatever I like, and a lot of these were thanks to Readings' bargains and some were op shop finds and some were gifts.
Hang on. What am I thinking???
I know anyone reading my blog posts loves books and will be wondering why the hell I'm trying to justify these purchases. So I'll shut up now and instead say ... here, for your ogling pleasure.
A note on this Botanicum poster book. I'm completely obsessed with Big Picture Press, and simply adore Animalium, Botanicum and the accompanying series (a new one below - keep scrolling!). For a long time, I've been looking for some beautiful botanical prints to frame, and - incredibly - this has been tough. I categorically refuse to buy anything from Amazon, where I've seen several posters. And I'd love to invest in some vintage posters from France, yes I would, but they are expensive and that kind of thing will need to wait till the mortgage is smashed out of the park (soon!).
Then I had a brain wave ... buy another copy of Botanicum, dismember it, and frame the pages!!! Just as I was ready to click the purchase button, I saw this thumbnail for a poster book. No dismembering required, other than gently tearing along a delightfully perforated strip. How I love perforating strips. I'm old enough to remember when Neapolitan ice cream came in cardboard tubs with an immensely satisfying perforation, and my mum would always, always leave that bumpely sliver just for me.
The little things.
On little things ...
Barnett AND Arsenault? You know it's gotta be good. And it is.
I love Tiny Star. I really love it. I didn't expect to love it as much as I do, I don't know why. But I adore it. It made me cry five times (in one reading!).
Again, as we're rabidly paying off a mortgage, I don't ever buy products from exhibitions (because you need to take out a second mortgage for a mere slip of a bookmark) but this - this book from the Monet exhibition at the NGA, it was coming home with me.
Walter and Pirate Boy gifted by my gorgeous publisher, Lisa Berryman.
Meredith Gaston is some kind of nature woodland sprite living on Earth, and I adore her words, her inspiration, her art. She's one of my Collectibles. I have them all.
Oliver Jeffers was once a Collectible for me - and I have most of his books, but I get nervous when he releases something new now because, you know - expectations and all that (on his part AND my part). And I generally make a rule of not reading reviews because they're like movie trailers - they so oft spoil things. And on top of that, reviewing a book takes expertise, and with the introduction of Goodreads, which thrives on griping and far too much subjective and thoughtless opinion (what do they liken opinions to, again - something about everybody having one??), I don't want my curiosity over any book trashed and trodden on. But what did I foolishly do? I checked the dreaded Goodreads, and there was just one too many 'I don't get it's.
Nevertheless, I took a risk with Fausto, and how glad I am that I didn't listen to the a-holes. It's love. It's beyond love. It's probably by favourite Jeffers book yet, next to Here We Are. Designwise, this book is like dipping a toe in the 1950s, with concepts and themes in the 2100s. And his use of space and sparsity and richness of image. Oh my. Get it. And, unlike so many on Goodreads, I hope you also 'get' it.
Seven Little Australians was one of my most treasured and repeatedly-read books as a child. I discovered this divine second-hand edition recently, illustrated by Allison Colpoys. I have it near me on my desk, just so I can have it near me.
Another Collectible - Kerry Lord is the crochet queen. Gifted by my lovely friend and illustration talent, Susannah Crispe.
These books - above and below - life goals. Working on it ...
Planting Dreams - it's a dream. This book is so beautiful, it came specially wrapped in brown paper and tissue, while the other books in the box rattled around, naked and roughshot.
Not sure if you've seen this Big Ideas book for kids but it's brilliantly conceived and beautifully illustrated and designed. I've not seen much about it online, so was thrilled to find it. If you have a child who spends a lot of time in their own head, this book would be priceless.
Add to my list of collectible books by theme (not author) - Christmas cookbooks. I read them like novels and barely ever cook from them. So typical. Insert eye roll.
Have rejoined Skillshare recently, to indulge in some watercolour courses. I go through phases where I'm desperate to hone my skills. So, of late, a few quick watercolour courses and a rash of books on graphic design and book layout, as I'm working on some particularly challenging non-fiction books for the National Library of late and into next year. This one, above, arrived first. It's glorious. And more coming, so watch this space. (If you're interested in the watercolour classes I took, scroll down.)
Diane. I love her. I LOVE her.
Rise Up, Women! is about 15cm thick. Seriously. It's not a brick, it's a besser brick. I might have to rip it in half just to be able to hold it up in bed (I'm almost exclusively a librocubicularist), but I cannot WAIT to dive in. Hopefully over summer.
Darwin and Leo. GASP!
Hugely obsessed with Liz I. HUGELY.
Hugely obsessed with Tati. HUGELY.
And Fry. HUGELY!
And Manson.
But my true love ... it's Bill. It really is. My ultimate Collectible. And this handful almost completes my collection ... (in fact, it might actually be complete).
I've been eagerly awaiting Bill's new book, The Body: A Guide for Occupants, and my pre-order (pre-orders always seem to alleviate the wait-pain, non?) arrived with so much squealing and hugging, you'd think it had proved to be a long lost child.
Like Stephen Fry, Bryson's books, are unadulterated joy to me. His thought, his research, his humour, his warmth and most most most of all, his sentences comprised of molasses and pin pricks, set my heart alight. As with all Bill's books, I dash to bed at 7.30pm to read. And The Body is complete pleasure. Eye-opening, jaw-gaping, brow-raising, head-shaking, high-fiving, soul-resonating pleasure.
Four chapters in, I'm already ...
Did you read this excerpt? Apologies, for the crappy, late-night photo and mark-up. This was hastily texted to my husband at the time. But wow. Could this be more topical in such a divided world? I mean, I always knew each of us have our own perceptions, and our way of seeing the world can be (quite literally) vastly different, but the way Bill put this - just deliciously awe-inspiring.
And doesn't Bill have a seriously delicious way of writing? I savour every drop.
On that note, is it just me or has the deliciousness of writing fallen by the wayside of late? Am I a fusspot? Am I expecting too much? I've lost count of the books I've had to put down this year because the language usage was agonisingly awful, underwhelming or just plain boring. I recently started an award-winning book and was shocked at the dull sentence construct. I put the book down. No. No time for that. Too much else to read. I'm in search of beauty and I'll gladly bypass a mountain of awards in search of it.
We want great stories, yes, but we also want to be thoroughly engaged, do we not? We want to be enthralled by the use of language. We want to take instant and obvious delight in the evocative coupling of words, that raise the hairs on our arms in grand salute. Me, I want more than endless, vacant similes and predictable description. Entertain me, sure, but also enchant me. Hit me right in the syntax.
If you've not seen this recent BBC clip by Stephen Fry, below, set 4.5 mins aside, posthaste.
I'm absolutely guilty of shaming and poo-pooing the appalling use of grammar and punctuation but this clip put a dent in this pedant.
To put this in perspective, one of my greatest heroes of all time is the Bristol Grammar Vigilante, who corrects the punctuation on signs and businesses under cover of darkness. Fry has taken me down a peg or two by reminding me that so long as delight is taken in the unabashed use of beautiful language, what's a misplaced comma between friends?
Years ago, I put book snobbery aside when it comes to children and reading. Barbie? Glorious. The local footy fixtures? Equally as good. Endless Minecraft manuals? Brilliant. So long as kids are reading.
Ergo, time to let up on my inner Grammar Ninja. Give me a little time. But I know I can do this.
Anyhoo, I could listen to this Fry clip on loop for six years straight. And while I do, I'll be packing away my red sharpie and picking up my notepad so I can let words fly from my pen, and bubble and froth at the tripping of my tongue against the tips of my teeth. Let there be pleasure of silken words and cracking utterances that quiver like rennet. And 'sound sex'! Thank you, Mr Fry.
Okay, moving from language to art, here are the Skillshare classes I recently took - Sharone Stevens. I'm not a 'loose' watercolourist. I'd love to be, I really would. Maybe I will be one day, but right now I'm just not.
Sharone creates refined, more controlled, layered pieces that play to my strengths. And we should play to our strengths, should we not?
Herewith my lesson on eggs ... so loved doing this.
And here's an homage to Sacre Coeur by Miroslav Sasek. If you're keen to hone a certain style of illustration, there is not much more perfect than paying homage to your favourite artists.
Would love to show you an entire catalogue of play pieces like these, but that's about it for playtime of late. Work has been truly overwhelming these past months, and has taken over 7 days of my week for most of the year.
For much of 2019, I've been suffering a terrible frozen shoulder, and I'm happy to report a cortisone injection directly into the joint worked wondrous wonders ... instant pain relief, with almost full movement restored within two months. My right shoulder has since packed it in and I'm having the shot tomorrow. Fingers crossed it finally puts an end to this horrid double shoulder burden. (If you're interested in doing this, talk to your doctor first, because the results are much higher when the shoulder is at thawing stage.)
So, my workload this year has been significant, and although it's been a joy, it's really taken the wind out of me. I'm hoping to have a small sabbatical at the end of the first quarter of 2020. That's the plan.
I've just finished two books in my junior fiction series, Evie and Pog (Books 1 and 2 out January - more peeks soon!), and have started sketching for Book 3. Herewith some kitkats who will make an appearance in No.3 ...
And here's some Book 1 and 2 peeks ...
I also finished a massive book for Hardie Grant Travel. I Heart the World and is out Feb 2020. It's a super large format book, and as I'm obsessed with such books, this has been a pinch-me project. Here is another teensy peek. More soon ...
And I'm right in the thick of my next NLA project, with my lovely friend Stephanie Owen Reeder. It's just the most exciting book. I am illustrating Stephanie's brilliantly-researched text - and here is a peek. Out next September, and more info soon!
There have been a lot of book events of late - that time of year. Stephanie Owen Reeder launched not one but two fab books in the past fortnight. Firstly, the incredible Story Time Stars, a companion to the Story Time: Australian Children's Literature Exhibition at the National Library. It was launched by the fabulous Belle Alderman of the National Centre for Australian Children's Literature.
She also launched a beautiful new NLA picture book, Trouble in the Surf, the story of how we almost lost aviator Charles Kingsford Smith well before adulthood. It's a glorious tale and the book is beautifully illustrated by Briony Stewart.
Another 'is it just me' realisation ... something another author friend brought up a few days ago ... what the heck has happened to book launch attendances? Last year I decided it's not worth having them anymore, as people just don't come along. A lot goes into preparing them. A lot of love. Some cash. Heaps of fun. There's oftentimes cake. And books. If books and cake aren't enough to get people along... I don't know. It's all a bit disillusioning.
I won't be having one for my upcoming book, Fauna - it's too much effort for the no-show risk. I'm doing a window for the NLA Bookshop instead. I'll be there early on Tues 5 November if you're around - come and say hi, and see a window dressing in action.
One of my favourite events of the year was held in cahoots with the Story Time Exhibition at the NLA - The Art of Story Book Illustration. Freya Blackwood, Alison Lester and Leigh Hobbs in conversation with Belle Alderman, and introduced by exhibition curator Grace Blakeley-Carroll. It was held in the NLA theatre - a packed house.
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| photo: National Library of Australia |
It was such an inspiring, beautiful experience, and of course, the book signing line was out the door. I came away so completely enriched, and Belle did an amazing job eking out the creative processes of this talented trio. The event was recorded live to the NLA's Facebook page, and is still available to view. Click here. You'll love it.
Another truly wonderful, hilarious event was held at Book Face Gungahlin for the Australian Reading Hour. I sat on a panel with author Kathryn Hind and journalists Rick Morton and Michael Roddan, chaired by friend and author Emma Grey. Again, thoroughly inspiring and heartfelt experience with a great bunch of people. There was stacks of laughter and even tears - the best kind of event!
The glorious National Portrait Gallery has re-opened after a freshen-up hiatus. I frocked up and hotfooted it along to the Women in Vogue exhibition, with sartorial vim in my step.
Hoping Anna Wintour doesn't hunt me down, but I was disappointed. There was some nice photography, I guess. There were just two [uninspiring] frocks on show, and this television, above, was probably my favourite thing of all [sad]. I might have also liked what the woman was saying if the sound had been audible. Sigh.
Another disappointment - well, no, not really, I mean I loved it overall - I did. I bought my husband tix to see Michael Parkinson. He is charming and gorgeous and jam-packed with luscious, inspiring and hilarious stories featuring some of the world's most remarkable people. It was such a wonderful evening, but just before half time, I began to feel uncomfortably odd.
Then, as the lights went up for intermission, I realised something. Parky had not spoken of, mentioned, referred to nor alluded to one single woman. Oh - sorry, how remiss of me. He did feature Dame Edna (and I don't say this derisively, for I am her Greatest Fan).
Hubby popped to the bathroom and I chatted with an elderly couple next to me. I asked the woman if she had noticed the woman thing and she paused and said 'actually, no, I hadn't noticed'. Then her husband looked at me with deep pity ('oh dear, one of those leftist activist feminist types') and began mansplaining something to do with how, you know, women 'back then' (Parky began his television interviews in the early 1960s) would have felt too 'self-conscious' to go on television and how they probably wouldn't have been 'allowed' to (by their keepers, presumably?), and moreover, would have CHOSEN not to go on his show, because, you know, they wouldn't have wanted to say the wrong thing and embarrass themselves or anything.
You know.
I think the worst part of this spiel was when his wife nodded and muttered 'true, true'.
I guess they have a point - especially since the 1960s and '70s were such repressed, unremarkable and conservative decades. And how the likes of women like Shirley MacLaine, Tina Turner, Jennifer Lopez, Ingrid Bergman, Bette Midler, Celine Dion, Raquel Welch, Joan Collins, Madonna, Helen Mirren, Judi Dench and Joan Rivers would have had nothing in the least bit interesting to say nor contribute.
To be fair, Parky did mention two women in the second half. Miss Piggy was one. And a fleeting mention of Bette Davis (no clip). Then right at the end, he played a clip of three unknown women whose claim to fame was that they'd met their centenary. Most certainly, they were divine women, but no Bette, Ingrid, Joan? Really??
I have no more words on this. Tired. So tired.
Random stuff.
It's always lovely to walk past a shelf and see your creations sitting there - as though you've just walked past a beloved family member you weren't expecting to see. This time my Australia Map Puzzle in Big W. Interesting that what excited me even more was to be sharing shelf space with Dr Seuss's Horse Museum, illustrated by Adelaide creator and book partner, Andy Joyner. If you have not seen this book, you must rush out now and get it! What a gig - truly. An honour to illustrate something so precious, and he's done a brilliant job. (P.S. of course, when you rush to get Andy's book, get my map puzzle, too!).
And see that little tiny yellow sliver in the bookshelf next to this bed in the divine Minty magazine? That's the first edition of Australia Illustrated, yes it is. How I even saw this, I do not know - but I must admit I'd recognise that yellow anywhere. I spent eons getting that yellow how I wanted it. Have you seen my trailer for the book? Here it is. Turn up the volume.
Oh golly - just now, I found MORE books I had photographed weeks ago. This is seriously nuts. Many found for a piddling amount at the op shop - I am not rich!
So I shall finish this post with more books. Because, what better way to both start and end a blog post.
Love to you all. Have a fab November. I have some giveaways coming up soon with Fauna - keep an eye on my Instagram account!
Tx
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