affirm press blog

This week, our brand new kid’s book, The Boy and the Crocodile, will begin to make its way into many wonderful bookshops around the country! In turn, we also hope it will find its way into people’s homes, and be enjoyed by young ones and oldies alike.

The Boy and the Crocodile is an important East Timorese legend – and it plays a central part in the learning of young East Timorese children. Earlier in the year Martin spent some time over at the Familia Hope orphanage in East Timor, breathing life – through illustrations and story – into this beautiful tale.  It follows the journey of  a young boy who saves the life of a crocodile, prompting an unlikely friendship between the two. The boy and the crocodile then wander the earth and its oceans, until finally the crocodile becomes tired and dies, turning himself into the island of Timor.

We’re delighted down at Affirm to be given the opportunity to bring this story to a brand new audience of readers here in Australia. As the latest recipient of the Miles Franklin Award, Kim Scott, explained while introducing The Boy and the Crocodile, stories are not only important for growing an awareness and a mutual respect across different cultures, but for also empowering the individuals who are involved in their creation. It’s been a hard slog, but we think we can say that we’ve succeeded on both these fronts!

And remember folks,  ALL proceeds for the book go directly to the Familia Hope Orphanage in East Timor. So pick up a copy and give back. It’s a win/win!

You can read more about the story behind The Boy and the Crocodile, and the distribution of 4000 Tetum copies to young readers in East Timor, over here.

It’s been two years since we had the pleasure of compiling and publishing Beth Sometime’s eclectic collection of postcards, From Sometimes Love Beth. The book came about through a challenge Beth put to herself: write a postcard to somebody, everybody, anybody and anything every day for the next year!

Now, after two years of innocuously professing to anyone who would listen – including those we trapped in damp corners of literary launches, or bribed with assortment of pints and promises  -  it seems we weren’t the only ones who saw the literary potential in these brief masterpieces of the minimalist form.

In his article The Lost Art of the Postcard, Pulitzer Prize winning poet Charles Simic addresses the subject of the postcard, not only alluding to its slower tracks – when a message might takes months to reach its receiver – but suggesting that like an errant addressed postcard that never finds its home, the art of postcard writing has itself become lost, recalled only out of a sense of nostalgia:

‘dear reader, if you happen, on your daily rounds, to come across in a coffee shop or a restaurant some poor soul sitting alone over a postcard and visibly struggling with what to write, take pity on him or her. They are the last of a species…’

Simic goes on to suggest that except for the usual tourist dribble, the art of postcard writing is an archaic act bestowed upon the chosen few  ( or more the plight of a  generation who collect stamps on the weekends, and are similarly perplexed by the terms ‘snail mail’ and ‘SMS’).

It seems that this ‘serious’ art – which can often so elequantly capture those heart-breaking glimpses into existence – is itself, sadly on route to extinction.

What do you think? Have we lost something through all this instantaneous white noise? Or do you still send/receive postcards?

It’s that time of year again, when we can justify drinking champagne for breakfast, and the strawberries on the side of the glass count as a meal. All around Australia people are getting dressed up and putting bets down, planning parties and trying to keep their hats (and shoes) on. There’s something special about Spring Racing, but there is nothing quite like the country races. 

For one thing, it’s not like all of Melbourne could turn up to Flemington and get a place on the lawn – but in the country every man, and sometimes his dog, show up and get a spot. There is more diversity in the outfits at country races, women in pretty dresses and hats stand alongside men clad in gumboots and akubras which are not worn as novelty outfits. 

Country races provide opportunities for whole communities to get together, and they are important and much anticipated Spring staples. But I’m biased (or just in the know). I grew up in a small country town where, for example, when all the horses were bedded down because of the equine flu, The Berrigan Cup went ahead regardless. Despite having nothing to watch or bet on, the locals turned up as normal and had a hoot. Not to be deterred from their love for horseracing by the fact that there were, er, actually no horses, the folks at the Snowy River Festival raced roosters and sheep. And last year, amid a particularly heavy downpour at a Healesville race meet, locals raced each other nude down the home stretch! 

Country horseracing (with or without the horses) brings together the townies, farmers and city slickers. They create much needed funds for communities and are a rare chance for locals to forget about droughts and locust swarms. This Spring racing season choose a location out of Slow Tracks and join the locals at the track.

Happy racing,

Kahlia, Formerly of Cobram (Famous to golfers due to the Cobram Barooga Golf Club and for everyone else it is 8km from The Big Strawberry)

Images courtesy: College Columbia, Everse Radio, Free Extras, 3bp, and Quarterly Conversation.