Jackie French is a must-read author for newcomers to Australia like me. Or indeed for anyone who wants to learn more about the country's history and wildlife. Her range is amazing. She writes both fiction and nonfiction across many genres for all age groups.

I first discovered her when I read her nonfiction book The Secret World of Wombats. Funny and informative, this book and How High Can a Kangaroo Hop? have become my favorite primers on these iconic Australian marsupials. Her famous picture book Diary of a Wombat and its sequels are now my go-to gifts for baby showers. 

Jackie French writes a lot of historical fiction sent in Australia as well. The Miss Lily series is set in the years before and after WWI and tells the story of the forgotten women who helped fight the war. It combines Downton Abbey-type social situations with espionage, depictions of life at the front, and meditations on what it means to be a woman. The series includes two novels and a Christmas short story so far. She also writes historical fiction for children and young adults, including the Animal Stars series, the Matilda saga,  A Rose for the Anzac Boys, Nanberry: Black Brother White, and many others.

I discovered that Jackie French has a fascinating origin story too. Her first manuscript, the book of short stories Rain Stones, was read for an unusual reason. As she explained in a 2009  interview: "My manuscript was pulled out of the pile because it was the messiest they'd ever seen—badly spelled (I'm dyslexic) and with all the 'e's written in biro. My wombat had been leaving his droppings on the keyboard and the letter 'e' no longer worked."

For anyone needing more reasons to explore Jackie French's work, check out her website or find her on Twitter.

Next time, I’ll describe other Australian spelling rules that follow British English. No surprise—many American English spelling rules veered away from British English, thanks again to Noah Webster. 

Note: Special thanks to https://pluslexia.com/ for the image used at the top of the post.

The gum tree, owned by the city and trapped in asphalt, belongs instead in nature. The poet compares the tree to a cart-horse that is castrated, confined, and hopeless. The gum tree is a metaphor for indigenous Australians forced off their land. Neither the gum tree nor its “fellow citizen”—the displaced, dispossessed indigenous Australian—is likely to thrive.
 
The author of “Municipal Gum” was born in 1920 on an island in southeast Queensland. Her father belonged to the Noonuccal people. Her family named her Kathleen Jean Mary Ruska, and she was known as “Kath.” From age 13, Kath worked as a domestic servant in Brisbane. When she was 21, she enlisted in the Australian Women’s Army Service and soon after married Bruce Walker, a member of the Gugingin people. After a severe ear infection forced her to leave the Army Service, Kath worked at a variety of jobs and became interested in politics, particularly in fighting for the rights of indigenous Australians. She had separated from her husband before their son was born and raised the child alone. Kath began writing poetry in the 1950s.
 
Her first collection of poetry, We Are Going, was published in 1964. It sold well, and other books followed. The poem “Municipal Gum” appeared in My People: A Kath Walker Collection, published in 1970.She continued writing and was known internationally as a protest poet, political activist, and educator. In 1988, she took the name of her people Noonuccal and the tribal name Oodgeroo (which means “paperbark”). Her final collection of poems was published in 1988, and she died on 16 September 1993.

These Australian poets were new ones for me. A.B. “Banjo” Patterson is best known for writing “Waltzing Matilda,” which is an unofficial national anthem. He also wrote a narrative poem, "The Man From Snowy River," which was made into a film. 

A woman named Kath Walker took the name of her indigenous tribe Oodgeroo Noonuccal in 1988. Oodgeroo means “paperbark tree.” Noonuccal was the first indigenous Australian to publish a book of poetry, called "We Are Going," in 1964.

Novelists such as Miles Franklin and Nevil Shute are old favorites of mine. I remember being terrified when I read Shute’s On the Beach as a teenager.

The Writers Walk honors visiting writers as well.

Charles Darwin, best known for his book On the Origin of Species, spent two months in Australia. The capital city Darwin in the Northern Territory is named after him.

Arthur Conan Doyle, who created Sherlock Holmes, visited Australia in 1920 as part of a five-month speaking tour in Australia and New Zealand. While Sherlock Holmes is the ultimate rational character, ironically his creator was here giving lectures on spiritualism.

Sydney also offers guided tours of the Writers Walk, something I plan to do the next time we visit.

All those “n’s”! All those “a’s”! It’s exhausting to figure out where they go. Far too exhausting to finish that final “a.”

Homophones—words that sound the same but are spelled differently—are another headache, especially when apostrophes are involved.

Closely related words can cause
confusion too.

While meditation is a healthy practice in general, it’s particularly helpful for writers.

Meditation increases activity in the parts of the brain related to creativity, allowing writers to process information, make new connections, and generate ideas. (Interestingly enough, boredom has a similar effect on creativity.) Because meditation shifts brain activity to the left frontal cortex and away from the areas responsible for fear and stress, it creates greater calm, less fatigue, and less “noise” from one’s inner critic—all enhancing creativity.

Try this exercise to see the effect of meditation on your writing.

Sit or lie comfortably and close your eyes. For two to three minutes, breathe naturally and try to empty your mind. Pay attention to how your body moves as the air comes in and out. Notice how your chest, shoulders, rib cage, and belly feel with each breath. If your mind wanders, bring it back to your breathing.

After the meditation, imagine a room. When you look at the walls, what do you see? When you look down at the floor, what do you see? What’s the air like in the room? Now look around the room. Is any physical object in the room? If so, what is it? Now, is there a person in the room? If so, what does the person look like? Where is the person in the room? What is the person doing?

A few minutes of daily meditation can help unlock your creativity—and it’s good for you too.

Although a previous post explained the Proximity Rule to determine if a verb is singular or plural, sometimes intervening phrases can confuse people when it comes to subject-verb agreement.

Look at this sentence: The bag of lemon drops costs/cost more than she expected. Should the verb be “costs” or “cost”? Since the subject “bag” is singular, the singular verb “costs” is correct. The number of subjects remains the same in spite of the intervening phrase “of lemon drops.”

A sample of intervening phrases includes:

To avoid confusion, look past the clutter of phrases. Focus on the subject of the sentence to determine whether the verb should be singular or plural. In the sentences below, the intervening phrases do not affect the number of subjects.

Remember, ignore the surrounding clutter in a sentence and focus on the subject to determine whether the verb should be singular or plural.

Stuck on something to write? Or just bored while waiting in line? Either way, try this writing exercise.

First, observe a stranger out in public (not necessarily at night). Jot down the details of the person’s appearance and dress. How does that person gesture or move? If you hear the person talking, how does he or she speak?

Next, use your imagination and ask yourself the following questions. Where was this person an hour before you saw them? What was he or she doing then? What will this person do an hour from now? What is he or she thinking about as you watch them? What desires currently drive this person’s life? Write down these details and then write a general paragraph about the person.

Now observe another stranger and do the same thing described above for the first person.

Here’s the best part. Write a brief scene (250 to 500 words) in which these two characters interact with each other. You can decide if they already know each other or not.

Whether you write more than one scene is up to you, but if nothing else, this exercise will spark your creative impulses and give you practice in creating characters.

Today, I’m thinking of all those travelers in my life who have gone on ahead.

When a family member or close friend dies, books can give comfort and understanding, guiding a reader through grief’s landscape. Over the years, and through many losses, I’ve found myself returning to the same set of books.

For children:

Water Bugs and Dragonflies by Doris Stickney and The Fall of Freddie the Leaf by Leo Buscaglia – I originally bought these two books for my daughter when she was four, and we read them together when a close family friend died. Although some readers have slammed The Fall of Freddie the Leaf as too sentimental, my daughter loved the simple story and still rereads it when she’s grieving. My personal favorite though is the Stickney book, a fable about water bugs and what happens when one of them climbs up a lily stalk and vanishes from sight. How do the other bugs make sense of what’s happened?

For adults:

The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights, both by Joan Didion – Thoughtful, emotional reflections on coping with the loss of first her husband and then her daughter.

How We Die: Reflections on Life’s Final Chapters by Sherwin B. Nuland – This classic is blunt, detailed, and  unsentimental, but surprisingly moving.

The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade by Thomas Lynch – Essays that chronicle small-town life as told by an undertaker who is also a poet.

New discoveries:

Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande – Recommended by my cousin, this book makes readers think hard on what we want for ourselves and our loved ones at life's end.

Gratitude by Oliver Sacks – Four essays written by this brilliant man in his final months.

Any books to add to this list? Please share them in the comments.