Jackie French
Australian children's literature expanded considerably through the final decades of the twentieth century, with local writers producing work in English across a widening range of genres and audiences. Jacqueline Anne French, known professionally as Jackie French, was born in Sydney on 29 November 1953 and has worked as a novelist and children's writer throughout her career.
French was educated at Somerville House and Brisbane State High School. She is a citizen of Australia and lives in Braidwood, New South Wales, with her second husband, Bryan Sullivan. Her writing spans several genres for both adults and children, and a number of titles stand out among her notable works: Rain Stones, To the Moon and Back, Somewhere Around the Corner, Hitler's Daughter, and Diary of a Wombat.
What French brought to Australian writing for young readers was a willingness to work across genres rather than settle into a single mode. Her notable works range across different forms and subjects, and the breadth of that output — from titles like Diary of a Wombat to Hitler's Daughter and Somewhere Around the Corner — reflects a writer who has not confined herself to one kind of story or one kind of reader. That variety across her career is part of what distinguishes her body of work within Australian children's and adult fiction.
French holds the honour of Member of the Order of Australia and has received the award of Australian Children's Laureate. Those two honours, taken together, mark formal recognition of her contribution to Australian writing and to literature for young readers in particular. The Australian Children's Laureate stands as a concrete acknowledgment of the place her work has come to occupy.
Quotes by Jackie French
I think my body knew before my mind did. Or maybe I just refused to listen to what I knew.
A kingdom needs tending, just like a cheese. Leave a cheese too long and the whey settles to the bottom and sours the whole. Leave a kingdom for too long and others rise to the top and take the whole.
Lady Dance’s music wasn’t a magic charm. I’d misunderstood. We had all failed to understand. The song and dance didn’t stop us dying. It just stopped the fear of death swallowing us up while we were still alive. ‘Rejoice,’ came the soft voice of Lady Dance in my mind. ‘Watch the moon and stars... ’ Death had ruled my life till I met Lady Dance. Her dance had set me free.
I knew this was a jewel of a day that would glow bright for my whole life, brighter than any ruby in Macbeth’s crown.
I do read very, very quickly. I do process data very quickly. And so I write very quickly. And it is embarrassing because there is a conception that the things that you do quickly are not done well. I think that’s probably one of the reasons I don’t like the idea of prolific.
Books aren’t like broccoli. You don’t have to eat it because it’s good for you. Books drag you in because they are fascinating.
One of my extraordinary regrets about my death is not so much that it’s going to happen but simply that I’ll never know what happens next.
I think I have probably adjusted the way I see the world, I interpret the world and I communicate the world into book format simply because of this familiarity. Possibly in another society and another context I might have been a storyteller or who knows what.
Very much in my books people find not surrogate families because they are real families. We’ve got families that we’re related to by blood but we’ve also got families that we acquire. And those too I think are pretty much part of my books.