What an exhilarating week I’ve had. In my “spare” time I’ve been replaying interviews recorded in 2015 – at the time promoting the release of my memoir I Belong to No One – in which I confidently assert my future plans to write a book based on the life of my great-grandmother, Louisa Whitley. It has taken eleven years, but I have achieved it! Louisa, an Historical Novel, is at the printers as I write. Arrangements are underway for the official launch to be held in Wollongong (NSW) in the afternoon of Friday 29th May 2026, so please save the date if you can make it. Details and invitations should be finalised in the next couple of weeks.

There hasn’t been much of that free time, though. This week, I’ve been immersed in the creative world. On Tuesday, I went to the Ensemble Theatre based in Kirribilli, on the edge of Sydney harbour. This intimate theatre-in-the round holds 200 people, with those in the front row practically sharing the stage with the actors. Every year I buy a season ticket, and this year the organisers have commenced the 2026 season with The Social Ladder, the latest satirical offering from Australia’s much-loved playwright David Williamson. I hear tell every year he claims this will be his last, and every year he showcases another brilliant insight into what makes Aussies tick. His dialogue and timing are superb. Not bad for a bloke who started his career as a mechanical engineer and had his first play staged in 1968.

Wednesday it was off to the State Library of NSW in Macquarie Street, Sydney for the monthly meeting of the Society of Women Writers NSW. Our patron is Emerita Professor Di(anne) Yerbury, Australia’s first female Vice-Chancellor (Macquarie University 1987-2005). English-born, every year she offers the Di Yerbury residency, which gifts a female writer three month’s occupation of her home in Barnstaple, Devon (UK). To be successful in the competition, applicants must clearly demonstrate how their work-in-progress will benefit from being based in England. That knocks me out, but this year my buddy, Christine Sykes, is the winner. We are all thrilled for her.

Thursday it was back to the State Library for an in-conversation with the Honorable Dame Quentin Bryce, Australia’s first female Governor General (2008-2014), Juliet Rieden (biographer), and Caroline Baum, journalist and radio/television broadcaster. Rieden has just written an authorised biography on Bryce’s remarkable life. The audience was hanging on every word, and the time went by far too quickly.

After three consecutive days of travelling by train up and back to Sydney it was a relief that Saturday’s events were local – but what an afternoon! Around thirty of us crammed into Collins Booksellers of Thirroul (a seaside suburb just north of Wollongong), to hear an in-conversation with (Professor) Catherine Cole and Siobhan McHugh. Cole splits her time between Australia, Liverpool (UK) and her home in the Dordogne region of France. This is the subject of her most recent work, A French House. Irish-born McHugh is a podcaster, social historian, and thoroughly charming woman. It is a delight to listen to these old friends in action, and even more delightful was being invited to a nearby home, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean, for wine, cheese and pizza.

Christine and I, never ones to let an opportunity slip by, sandwiched that invitation in between our next commitment – the 2026 Wollongong International Women’s Day Brilliance festival women writers’ event: “Women Writers Speak“. It was a celebration of poetry and prose from local women of all ages and backgrounds, from university students through to a councillor in local government. We each seized a spot in the “open mic” section, where I gave the audience a taste of Louisa. I’m not sure why I delivered it with one hand on a hip, maybe Louisa was telling me to be feisty? This excerpt might explain it:

“Anger is not a Christian virtue for a woman. We are raised to turn the other cheek. But meekness is not in my nature, and I take no responsibility for that. If the Divine had wished it differently, He should have designed me another way.

I’d been angry with that God for taking Papa, and I’d been angry with Papa for leaving us to the mercy of Uncle Frederick. For a time, it was true I had even been angry with Mama. Yet that seemed merely practice for the outrage I felt when Arthur attained his majority and determined he was in charge of my life. Oh yes! I had good reason to be furious with my younger brother. Looking back, perhaps I could feel pity for him. After all, who had been his guiding light in those six years since Papa died? Uncle Frederick, of course, and, taking his lead from that arrogant man, Arthur decided that women should not have a mind of their own. Do I now feel sorrow for what that outrage drove me to? Perhaps. But I will never forgive Arthur for what he put me through in those early years.

‘You don’t make it easy for Arthur, you know,’ Mama said to me one day as I railed against yet another of his restrictions. ‘You are uncommonly obstinate and headstrong, and you know that, Louisa. You are quite unlike your sisters in that regard.’

She reminded me – none too kindly, I felt – that I had already refused two marriage proposals. ‘Arthur is the eldest male, and that is a fact neither of us can change. Until you marry, he has not only the right, but the obligation, to manage your affairs.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ I told her.

She only laughed gently and went on kneading the bread for the next day. Since losing the business and letting the servants go, Mama had turned her skills to the kitchen. She said she found peace in the never-ending rhythm of feeding a family.

‘You should try it, Louisa. A home and children of your own: that may be all that is needed to bring you the same contentment. Look how well you cared for your siblings when they were young.’ Then, seeing the pain that swept across my face at the mention of George and Laura, she wiped her hands on her apron and cradled my face. ‘But… although it will distress me deeply to let you go—’ I felt her hands quiver. Then she rested her forehead against mine for the briefest moment before pulling back and locking eyes. ‘If it is your firm wish to cross the seas, then I will support your decision.’

Had I just heard correctly? It was days before I could really believe it: I was going to Australia.”

Louisa is published in Paperback and Digital, by David Reiter of IP (Interactive Publications Pty Ltd) under their Glass House Books Brisbane imprint.