Glenda Millard
Australian children's literature developed as a distinct publishing tradition across the twentieth century, producing writers who addressed young readers in English across a range of genres and age groups. Glenda Millard, born on 1 January 1939 in Victoria, Australia, is one such writer, working in both children's literature and young adult fiction.
Millard writes in English and has directed her work toward younger audiences throughout her career. Her output spans children's literature and young adult fiction, two areas that, while related, address readers at different stages and with different expectations. Writing from Victoria, she contributes to Australian literature produced for young people, and her engagement with both children's literature and young adult fiction reflects a sustained commitment to writing across more than one segment of that readership. The available record confirms her identification as an Australian writer born in Victoria in 1939, working in English within the fields of children's literature and young adult fiction.
Quotes by Glenda Millard
I didn’t know what to say when someone’s given you a small free kiss in the dark...
You might think what I tell you next is all a dream, or that I’ve imagined it. I can’t help it if that’s what you think, but I swear it’s true. Sometimes the truest things are the hardest to believe.
Sometimes words come out of me and I don’t know where they come from or why. They’re like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can’t be stopped.
I wasn’t going to let things happen to me any more. I was going to make them happen.
When the doors closed behind me I felt like a bird had got inside my chest and was beating its wings trying to get loose, and it wasn’t leaving much room for me to breathe.
Sometimes I can see colour without opening my eyes. I saw that Billy’s heart was no colour and every colour. Like water or diamonds or crystals, it’s pure and reflects the light.
I don’t make promises in case I can’t keep them. Sometimes you can’t help it; things stop you.
Books are many things: lullabies for the weary, ointment for the wounded, armour for the fearful and nests for those in need of a home.
I never had anything before this all started. I've lived in No-Man's-Land for thirty years.
He didn't mind Layla talking to him. He liked the way she talked without expecting an answer.