Sunday, 26 July 2026

Keith Goes Glam  Elaine Bickell

                                                                                         


Keith Goes Glam
Elaine Bickell
Ill. Minky Stapleton
Scholastic (2026)
Picture book
24 pages, Paperback
ISBN 978 1 77543 976 9

  

Keith Goes Glam is a companion volume to Keith and the Kitten (2025). Keith is a self-centred chihuahua, whose life is made miserable when his owner, known as Mama, acquires a feline named Queenie. Mama assumes the pair will get on like a brother and sister – which shows that she knows nothing about sibling rivalry. Keith and Queenie fight like cats and dogs. Keith Goes Glam sees the conflict spread into the world of canine fashion!

Their Mama loved dressing her little Keith up.

Queenie cat teased, “What a widdle pup.”’

 

Elaine Bickell tells the story in cute rhyming couplets, which are neatly matched by the beyond-cute illustrations of the amazingly amusing Minky Stapleton.  A clever montage shows Mama taking a series of fashion shots of Keith in different outfits she has purchased for him. Pom-pom, bows and a top hat are key elements along with a double helping of sequins and pearls. His expressions in the photos are priceless. Queenie loves every moment of Keith’s chagrin.

Mama’s big weakness was sparkly clothes,

glittery booties and collars and bows.

 

Worse follows when Mama buys a hot-pink carry-bag for her dog. It matches her hot-pink shoes and goes nicely with the hot-pink bow Keith is forced to wear. With his head sticking out of the bag, Keith is a picture of canine fury and embarrassment, as Mama carries him up the street.

Down at the shops, he was patted and poked.

“Awww, he’s adorable,” everyone joked.

 

Then Keith sees his chance to get his revenge on the smirking Queenie. A shop is offering ‘a double pet bag, just perfect for two.’ With lots of barking and yapping he draws Mama’s attention to it. She buys the glittery golden backpack model. (And Keith gets a matching glittery gold ribbon, collar and K badge!) Keith is delighted because Queenie is about to find herself being carted around in the bag. Several pictures shows him smirking at the prospect of his revenge.

 

Into the bag goes Queenie and, too late, Keith realises his mistake.

‘”Uh-oh,” said Keith. He’d not thought of that.’

 

Young readers will have spotted the drawback in Keith’s cunning scheme long before Keith did and will enjoy the final pages even more. A thoroughly unhappy ending is had by all.

 

Trevor Agnew

23 July 2026  [Review 3854.]

 

 

 

 Out in the Bay  Ned Barraud

                                                                                                         


Out in the Bay
Ned Barraud (text & ill)
Scholastic (2026)
Picture book
24 pages, Paperback
ISBN 978 1 77543 977 6

 

There in the bay, beneath waters jade green,
dwell creatures of mystery, shy and unseen.
A seahorse? A crab? Grey dolphins at play?
A whole hidden world lies out in the bay.’

 Out in the Bay is an attractive companion volume to the author-illustrator’s equally fascinating At Home on the Farm (2025) This time the subject is the dramatic area where the sea meets the land – the bays and beaches of New Zealand. Raised in Nelson and now living in Wellington, Ned Barraud knows his bays and their wildlife.

 The handsome double-page colour illustrations don’t show glamorous, idealised seashore scenes. Rather, we see storm-battered beaches, collapsing remnants of old jetties, piles of driftwood, sandy islands being eroded by the sea and even an ageing yacht ‘crusty and rusty and riddled with rot.

Look closer and we see that the yacht is being used as a roost by terns, its mooring rope is festooned with mussels. The jetty piles are home to starfish and still more mussels. Schools of small fish dart through the seaweed below. There is life everywhere in his pictures: tiny humans in their sailboats, a stingray gliding in the shallows, a crab scuttling for cover and the multitude of wading birds which gather on the shore to dine:

Oystercatchers, herons and stilts
Probe for a feed through the mud and the silt.

 

The illustration of the accumulated flotsam washed up on a rocky shore– ‘treasures to spot if you have a keen eye’ -  includes shells, feathers, driftwood, kina shells and even a half-built hut. It should inspire a generation of young readers to go beachcombing

 

There is a page devoted to the guano production of a colony of spotted shags, which is certain to fascinate young readers.

‘Their crang-a-dang nests cling to the cliff,
but yuk! What a stink! What a foul-smelling whiff!’

 

Barraud has a sharp eye for the distinctive features of the creatures he depicts, such as the shags holding their wings out to dry. My favourite illustration shows fur seals – not the sleek, diving ones – but the lumpy, lolling ones, lying on the rocks, enjoying the sunshine, and waving the occasional flipper.

 

His time spent working in the film industry with Weta Workshops is reflected in Ned Barraud‘s dramatic landscapes and seascapes.  The most awe-inspiring creation is the school of luminous jellyfish in a purple, midnight sea. The author’s words are a perfect accompaniment to his picture:

Out in the bay, drifting with grace,
jellyfish float like stars in deep space.,
glowing like lanterns, soft and slow.
they’re carried by currents that ebb and flow.

 

The dramatic closing pages show Nelson’s Boulder Bank lighthouse standing firm against the black clouds of a rising thunderstorm, while dolphins plunge through the breakers:

But, surfing the white caps with joy and with glee,
grey dolphins are dancing, wild and free.’

 

Out in the Bay is a book to enjoy reading. And, doubly, to enjoy looking at.

 

Trevor Agnew

20 July 2026  [Review 3853.]

 

 

 

 

Saturday, 25 July 2026

Tania Roxborogh

Bastion Point:
507 Days on Takaparawha,
Auckland 1977-78
Tania Roxborogh 

                                                                                            
                                                                             

Bastion Point:
507 Days on Takaparawha,
Auckland 1977-78
Tania Roxborogh 
My New Zealand series
Scholastic (2017)
Historical novel
206 pages, paperback
Historical notes, booklist, photographs
ISBN 978 1 77543 479 5

 

 

‘Dad, this is so stupid. We are nobody and nobody cares what we think.’


This novel, the latest in the respected My New Zealand Story series, is told as the diary of a 12-year-old Māori girl, Erica Tito, who unexpectedly finds her plans for a relaxing summer holiday of training her pony completely upset. Today the Bastion Point protest is seen as a turning-point in New Zealand’s history but Erica, at first, has no idea of what is involved. The reader learns along with her as she writes about each day’s developments in her diary.
Told to pack for a ‘short holiday down south,’ Erica finds herself part of a large group camped on an Auckland headland. On the first morning, Erica doesn’t even know where she is.


‘But, Dad… Where are we? Are we in Auckland?’
‘Yes, and this place here, my people call Takaparawha but on the maps it’s Bastion Point.’


Erica’s father has brought his family to join a protest against the selling-off of Bastion Point, an area of land the Ngati Whatua people claimed had been illegally taken from them. The protestors – who preferred not to be called occupiers – set up an encampment and, amid increasing national controversy, remained there for 507 days. Tania Roxborogh has done her research well and provided the tiny details that make her story so convincingly genuine. For example a garden hose was the only supply of drinking water in the early days.


Another striking aspect is that, throughout the protest, the young people involved attended the local schools. Erica is thus faced with all the problems of being a new student in a strange city but also of being perceived as a disruptive element. All the issues of the complex and controversial national dispute are mirrored in the tensions Erica encounters at school. Thus, when the truckloads of police suddenly arrive, at Bastion Point, the reader is fully aware of what is at stake.
A clever framing device helps put the diary into its historical context and also gives a hint of Erica’s future. This is a simply-told but powerful historical novel, a reminder that governments can be obtuse and autocratic and that sometimes people have to take a stand.


As usual in this highly-regarded series, there is a Timeline, Historical Note, Glossary, Bibliography and a set of contemporary photographs.

Trevor Agnew, 7 January 2017
[Review 2998
]


 Helpful notes and questions, discussion topics and activities, are in the Teacher Notes on the Scholastic NZ websitemnzs-bastion-point.pdf


Review for Magpies magazine, April 2017 issue

By Trevor Agnew

 

Bastion Point: 507 Days on Takaparawha,
Auckland 1978-79 

Tania Roxborogh 
Scholastic (2017)   (My New Zealand Story series)
206 pages, pb, NZ$18
978 1 77543 479 5

 “What is this place?” I asked.

“This is where I was born,” he said…”It’s gone now. All the homes were destroyed when I was a kid.”

The fortieth anniversary of the confrontation over Bastion Point is a sobering reminder of just how far race relations and Maori land issues have come since the 1970s. Those who lived through that period have vivid memories of the conflict and the attitudes, but how can children growing up today understand the way things were back then?

The answer is to be found in Tania Roxborogh’s excellent novel, Bastion Point: 507 Days on Takaparawha, the latest in Scholastic’s superb My New Zealand Story series. Roxborogh has created a young girl, Erica Tito, who lives in a rural area north of Auckland and has no knowledge of her father’s childhood or of Ngati Whatua’s land confiscation protests. All Erica is interested in is training her pony Silver. We know this because Erica’s diary entries for 1977 and 1978 form the narrative.

 The reader learns along with Erica as her life suddenly changes forever. Told to pack for a “short holiday down south,” Erica finds herself part of a large group camped on an Auckland headland. Her father has brought his family to join a sit-in protest against the selling-off of Bastion Point, an area of land the Ngati Whatua people claimed had been illegally taken from them.

The protestors – who prefer not to be called occupiers – settle down in their encampment and, amid increasing national controversy, remain there for 507 days.

Roxborogh’s master stroke in this story reflects her careful research. The Bastion Point children went to school locally. It sound simple but it creates a perfect microcosm of New Zealand as Erica encounters various responses to the land dispute. Pining for her pony, and labelled a troublemaker  at school, Erica gradually learns more about the history of the area. The most moving testimony comes from her father, describing how his childhood home was bulldozed, “They told us to get our gear and leave because they were going to remove the houses…Then they set them all on fire. They killed my dog.”

 Always, the author maintains a young girl’s viewpoint, drawing us in to Erica’s experiences and emotions.  According to Father Shirres at the church service last Sunday, we’ve been protesting on the Point longer than Noah and his family were in their Ark. That story will never be the same to me again – I think I know how they must have felt.” Finally, Erica stands with the others as the police convoy arrives.

 A lovely feature of this dramatic story is the framing device, set in the present day, which enables the reader to work out what became of Erica and her dreams. This is a gripping and powerful historical novel, a reminder that governments can be obtuse and autocratic and that sometimes people have to take a stand.

As always with this series, there is an informative Timeline, Historical Note, Glossary, Bibliography and a set of contemporary photographs.

 Trevor Agnew

30 March 2017


**********************************************************       


Author Tania Roxborogh’s rich creative life ‘rewrites the narrative’ of a troubled childhood

As told to Joanna Davis|Homed

Photos by Peter Meecham, The Press, Christchurch [Stuff]

Your weekend magazine, 25 July 2026

July 25, 2026 • 4:00am

Copy Link

Writer and educator Tania Roxborogh at home in Lincoln, Canterbury, in front of her much loved book collection.Writer and educator Tania Roxborogh at home in Lincoln, Canterbury, in front of her much loved book collection.Photo: Peter Meecham / The Press

 

Told as a teenager that she’d never amount to anything, Tania Roxborogh has gone on to be a multi-award winning author and educator, perhaps best known for her Charlie Tangaroa series of books for young readers.

Roxborogh (60, Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Mutunga o Wharekauri, Scottish, German, and Irish descent) lives in Lincoln, Canterbury.

TANIA: This is probably the longest I’ve been in one house in my entire life, 10 years.

I was born in Christchurch and just before I turned four we moved to the Bay of Plenty. But we moved around a lot: In one year I went to seven different primary schools.

When I was 15 I left home, tried to find my father, found him, that was a disaster. He was in a drunken rage and kicked me out.

I spent 18 months in foster care. I’m incredibly grateful for their generosity and their kindness. They were so patient with me, even though I would nick her cigarettes. They even got a horse for me.

As hard as I was on them, they showed me what good families are like.

Sixteen was the beginning of my depression and anxiety. I went to fill out one of those personality questionnaires, the psychologist and the social worker said to me: ‘Tania, you will never amount to anything. You’ve set yourself up to fail.’

My uncle had dropped me off. He said, Let’s prove the bastards wrong. Let’s show them.

I have a BA in humanities, a post-graduate diploma, first class honours in Māori knowledge and I’m working on my PhD.

And my books have won awards. One of them I really love, Charlie Tangaroa, won the Ibby award [a prestigious international children’s book award].

Roxborogh loves the old Imperial typewriter, and likes to see the old numberplate from the family car (a Honda Odyssey), as it took her family on many adventures.Roxborogh loves the old Imperial typewriter, and likes to see the old numberplate from the family car (a Honda Odyssey), as it took her family on many adventures.Photo: Peter Meecham / The Press

I started writing at high school. Bless my teachers. This is why I became a teacher. I wanted to become for other kids what mine were to me.

I started teaching at Macleans College in Auckland, and then moved to Westlake Girls High school to become head of drama. I found it difficult to find plays the girls could perform in, so I wrote some.

I joined writing groups, read a lot. I don’t see myself as especially talented. I’m a good storyteller but I’m willing to improve and make changes when people make suggestions.

I was in Auckland nearly 20 years, then got a writer-in-residence position in Dunedin, so we stayed in the South Island.

Roxborogh treasures these lettters she received from celebrated poet Alistair Te Ariki Campbell after she sent him her poems in 1986. At first he told her she needed to work much harder, and then congratulated her, including for recognising that her future lay in prose rather than poetry.Roxborogh treasures these lettters she received from celebrated poet Alistair Te Ariki Campbell after she sent him her poems in 1986. At first he told her she needed to work much harder, and then congratulated her, including for recognising that her future lay in prose rather than poetry. - Photo: Peter Meecham / The Press

 

My husband, Phillip, is a lecturer in technology and computing. When we moved to Dunedin, he arranged it so he could work from home. The time he saved in commuting, he did a masters and then got a job at ARA [Institute of Canterbury].

In 2023 I moved from my job which I loved to the Ministry of Education. And that was important. My PhD is in helping teachers teach Shakespeare through a te ao Māori lens - basically decolonising Shakespeare. I’d only just started and the new Government came in and I lost my job.

They’ve undone all the good stuff that was being done. I feel embarrassed to say but I lost my mojo. I can’t be the teacher I want to be any more. I’m just so over the changes and the politics.

I have two daughters, Mackenna, 34; she’s a vet, and she and her social worker husband live in Brisbane. I think they’ll come home. And my pōtiki Brianna is 30, and she lives in Christchurch. She comes to visit and goes on Dad dates which means he takes her to the petrol station and fills it up with petrol.

Roxborogh says Macbeth is her favourite Shakespeare play, and a trip to Glamis Castle in Scotland was “a trip of a lifetime” as that is where the king was killed. Roxborogh has written a trilogy sequel to Macbeth.Roxborogh says Macbeth is her favourite Shakespeare play, and a trip to Glamis Castle in Scotland was “a trip of a lifetime” as that is where the king was killed. Roxborogh has written a trilogy sequel to Macbeth.Photo: Peter Meecham / The Press

 

I spend a lot of time avoiding doing my work. The third draft of my latest novel has been to the editor and come back full of annotations. So I watched 15 seasons of Call the Midwife. I’d do a bit of work and then go and watch an episode.

I’m lucky I have good support networks who help me navigate past trauma. I’ve been diagnosed with complex PTSD. I didn’t realise I spent my life disassociating.

That’s how I managed my whole life, I saw it as a story rather than as a reality of my upbringing.

But I can re-write my narrative the way I want it to be.

 

Your Weekend [Stuff] 25 July 2026, pages 14-15.

 

*****************************************************************************    

 


Thursday, 23 July 2026

Whenua: Māori Pūrākau of Aotearoa (2025)

 

Whenua: Māori Pūrākau of Aotearoa
Isobel Joy Te Aho-White

                                                                                                 


Whenua: Māori Pūrākau of Aotearoa
Isobel Joy Te Aho-White (2025)
Little Moa/Hachette
Māori legends, 90 pages
Hardback
ISBN 978 1 86971 588 5

 We begin our storytelling with the oldest tale of them all. This is the story of the creation of the world.’

 Pūrākau is a marvellously flexible word. Depending on context, it can mean myth or story or incredible tale. Even legend. In Whenua: Māori Pūrākau of Aotearoa, all of these meanings apply. In this wonderful book author and artist, Isobel Joy Te Aho-White, is retelling eleven stories that have been passed down, told and retold, drawn, carved and painted, by generations past. Her skill with words, pictures and maps introduces a new generation to some the world’s oldest stories. And, as she reminds her readers. ‘For us, storytelling is an art form that is used to relay important information about nature, history, healing and the land.’ It is the whenua (land) which brings these stories together.

 

Isobel Joy Te Aho-White has chosen eleven pūrākau to retell, beginning with ‘The Waka of Aoraki.’ Four bickering brothers, children of the sky gods, decide to visit their auntie Papatūānuku, the Earth Mother. Unfortunately, the brothers’ arguments distract Aoraki as he chants the spells which would have enabled their canoe to fly safely. The waka crashes and the brothers scramble on to its upturned hull. Aoraki throws his korowai [cloak] over them. ‘There they stayed, shivering under the korowai, as the centuries passed … Slowly the brothers began to turn to stone…’ Thus the snow-covered brothers become Kā Tiritiri-o-te-Moana (the white caps of the ocean), the Southern Alps. This retelling really brings the stroppy brothers to life and also fulfils the purpose of the tale: making a landscape memorable, in a tradition to be passed on. There is also some truly memorable prose: ‘Never again would the brothers join their mother or their father in the sky and Aoraki’s chant can still be heard blowing through the surrounding valleys of Kā Tiritiri-o-te-Moana.’

 

Then there are the illustrations by the author. There are colour pictures on every page of this 90-page book!  The six pages of the Aoraki story have paintings, decorative designs and a map, all of which help carry the story.  The best picture in the book shows Aoraki’s canoe in full flight over the continent of Australia. Turn the page and the canoe is plunging to destruction, with Aoraki’s korowai sweeping over the foreground. Turn the page and the korowai enfolds the brothers, as it takes on the familiar outline of the mountains.

 

Three more stories from Maui’s canoe (the South Island) follow. I was lucky enough to hear the legend of ‘Rākaihautū and Tuhiraki’ being told at Rehua Marae, Christchurch. Four decades later I still remember the active digging motions of the storyteller, as he spoke of Rākaihautū carving out the lakes and rivers.  Isobel Joy Te Aho-White adds a reminder that the names of people, places and things are important. ‘Landmarks, tribal areas, houses, waka and even weapons have names.’ Sure enough, Rākaihautū’s ‘trusty ko (digging stick) is named Tū Whakarōria. And the mountain where Rākaihautū set this ko up to rest from its work, Tuhiraki, still stands looking over Akaroa.

 

‘The Sleeping Giant’ is a traditional just-so story which explains the origin of the Moeraki boulders, and does it with flair and well-characterised heroes. ‘Poutini and Waitaiki’ is a poignant love story which tells of the origin of the West Coast’s unique, pale, flecked greenstone. It also has the instantly memorable reminder that Poutini, the taniwha who is the kaitiaki of pounamu, is only frightened of one thing – the sandstone teeth of his sister, Whatipū. Just so.

 

The other seven stories are all equally well retold and illustrated. Once again, volcanoes and hot springs are created as freezing explorers are saved. Wellington Harbour is formed as taniwha struggle to escape the confines of Pōneke Lagoon. Lovesick mountains battle in vain for the love of Pīhanga. Okatia, the spirit living in a giant totara, carves out the Tararua and Ruahine ranges. Whātonga’s troubles with his two wives results in the discovery of a plentiful forest home. An angry tohunga and an annoying young whale change the landscape around Wairoa forever. A battle between fairy folk creates the volcanoes of Tāmaki Makaurau. Whenua is indeed the right title for this book.

 The result is a handsome collection of exciting and interesting stories from the great treasury of Māori pūrākau, retold with respect and illustrated with imagination.

Using the Māori tradition of Maui’s canoe and Maui’s fish, Isobel Joy Te Aho-White has also created some maps of Aotearoa New Zealand which will really get young brains working and – above all - seeing things from another point-of-view. Which is really what these eleven pūrākau do as well.

 

Trevor Agnew
17 June 2026  [Review 3846]

BIRD! Raymond McGrath

 Bird!  In Spring Along Came a Spider  Raymond McGrath

 Bird!  In Spring Along Came a Spider 
Raymond McGrath (2026)
Lerner/Graphic Universe
Junior graphic novel
48 pages, Paperback
ISBN 979-8-7656-4813-1

                                                                                        

 Wow! This is a really great branch.

 It’s the first day of spring and there’s a new bird in town. You can tell the bird is a fresh arrival because he’s carrying a suitcase. The tiny bird is also carrying a Things To Do note from his mother. Number One on the list is ‘Find a great tree.’ The bird is depicted as a small blue sphere of fluff with three feathers each for wings and tail. His eyes take up more than half his body-mass. He is unbelievably cute.

 

Raymond McGrath is a witty writer as well as a witty illustrator. This is amply demonstrated when the bird’s first visitor literally drops in. The following nervous conversation ensues:

Aah!

Aah!

Who are you?

I’m Spider.

You mean you are a spider.

My name is Spider. But, yes, I am a spider. So, who are you?

I am Bird.’

 Spider and Bird soon become an inseparable team.  Strolling along the branch one day, Spider is impressed by Bird’s photo of his Mum and even more impressed by her reminder list.

Are you still working on Number Two?’ enquires Spider, discreetly.

What was Number Two again?’ responds Bird, shiftily.

It turns out that Mum’s second instruction was to ‘weave a fancy nest.’ Bird’s first attempt at nest-building looks like an explosion in a spaghetti factory, so it is up to Spider to show what can be done with imaginative flair, twigs, straw and lots of spider-silk. The resulting nest, with its rococo swags and bows certainly qualifies as fancy.

 

Bird and Spider continue to hit it off, mainly because Bird can sing and Spider can dance. This is handy because Number Three on the Things To Do List is ‘Sing and Dance the Springtime Song of Friendship.’  Spider, having eight legs, proves expert at dancing.

Spider: ‘You do the singing!

Bird: And you do the dancing!

Spider: ‘Look out world. Here it comes!

Bird: ‘A one. And a two. And a one, two, three!’

 

What follows is a marvellously joyful series of pictures showing Bird and Spider singing and dancing together. (This is a charming tribute to Bill Watterson’s comic sequence where Calvin and Hobbes the tiger danced to a classical record played at 78 rpm, except that Spider and Bird, between them, have four more legs to dance with.)

 All that remains on Mum’s list is to ‘Have fun with your new best friend.’ Unfortunately, neither Bird nor Spider have discovered a new best friend for Bird. Can this problem be solved? (Young readers will be well ahead of Bird and Spider by now.)

Or will this problem have to wait for Volume 2 in the Bird! Series: Bird in Summer: the Worm Turns Up (2026)

 Bird! is a cutely illustrated, brilliantly written series that will introduce young readers to the joys of funny dialogue, the joys of funny pictures and the joys of funny graphic novels. Simultaneously.

 

Trevor Agnew

16 July 2026  [Review 3851.]

 

                                            THE FOUR SEASONS - Raymond McGrath


Bird!  In Summer the Worm Turns Up  Raymond McGrath

 

Bird!  In Summer the Worm Turns Up 
Raymond McGrath (2026)
Lerner/Graphic Universe
Junior graphic novel
48 pages, Paperback
ISBN 979-8-7656-4814-8

                                                                                  

Bird!  In Summer the Worm Turns Up is the second in the witty series about a tiny bird making its way in the world, guided by a Things To Do note written by his Mum. His current task is to alter Number Three on the Things To Do List from ‘Sing and Dance the Springtime Song of Friendship’ to ‘Sing and Dance the Summertime Song of Friendship.’  This is important to Bird because Task Four is ‘Have Fun with Your New Best Friend.

 

Because it is now Summer, the weather is hot and the cherries on Bird’s tree are ripe. Bird is hot and listless, when Spider drops in to further beautify Bird’s already fancy nest. Not only can Spider eat cherries and decorate Bird’s nest with spider-silk flowers, but she can also keep up her end of a conversation:

Spider: ‘So, have you found a best friend to share your nest with yet?’

Bird: ‘Not yet. How about you?’

Spider: ‘What about me?’

Bird: ‘Have you found a best friend yet?’

Spider: ‘Uh. No. Not yet.’

(Young readers love characters who miss the obvious, so they find an unexpected joy in this situation.)

 

Refreshed by cherries, Spider gets Bird to join in their singing and dancing of the Springtime Summertime Song of Friendship. Spider’s creation of two spider-silk parasols enables them to cope with the hot sun and mount a fine performance. To their astonishment, somebody down on the ground hears them; it is Worm, who has crawled out of his hole into the sunshine to enjoy their performance.

 

 Their first conversation starts badly but helps dispel suspicions.

Worm: ‘Hang on. You aren’t going to eat me, are you?’

Bird: ‘What? No!’

Worm: ‘Are you sure? Some birds like to eat worms.’

Spider: ‘Bird doesn’t eat worms. He sips nectar. You can tell from the shape of his beak.’

 Worm is further reassured when he learns that Spider is not going to eat him either. ‘Those are salad-y teeth not bite-y teeth.’ Fitted with a spider-silk sun-hat, Worm recovers from the de-moisturising effects of the summer sun and invites the helpful pair back to the coolness of the wormhole, where he stores his dirt collection. There, the three of them can relax and bewail their lack of friends:

Worm: ‘Well, it would be nice to have someone around who likes to talk about dirt.

Bird: ‘I know how you feel. I’d like to have a best friend to talk to and share my nest.’

Spider: ‘Me too.’

Bird: ‘But making friends is hard.’

Worm: ‘Sure is.

 

To cheer them all up, Spider suggest that all three sing and dance the Summertime Song of Friendship. The only problem is that Worm can’t sing and can’t dance. Fortunately, he can play a drum, so the performance goes ahead with unexpected results.

 Raymond McGrath’s pixilated dialogue will also give young readers something to think about: ‘I read it on the internet,’ says Worm. How?

And where did Worm get a drum from? Probably the same place that Spider got her lorgnette from, and Bird got his suitcase from. These graphic novels are packed with tiny details, in text and picture, put there just to amuse young readers (and some lucky old ones). This is genuinely skilful stuff and I look forward to Volume 3 which I suspect will be set in Autumn.

 

Also, it is noticeable that in all the pictures of the cherry tree, there is clearly a large, tortoise-shell cat lurking in the long grass below The only thing you can be sure of in a Raymond McGrath book is that you can’t be sure what’s going to happen next.

Enjoy.

  

Trevor Agnew
16 July 2026  [Review 3852]

 


                                    THE FOUR SEASONS - Raymond McGrath


Wednesday, 15 July 2026

Charlie, Tam and the Singing Canary

 

Charlie, Tam and the Singing Canary
Bill Nagelkerke

                                                                                     


Charlie, Tam and the Singing Canary
Bill Nagelkerke
Ill. Monica Koster
Copy Press, Nelson (2026)
Dist. Real NZ Books, Nelson
Novel, 215 pages, Paperback
ISBN 978 0 473 78063 0

 

I’m an expert at moving,’ says Charlie, who has just arrived in Coalburn on the West Coast, with her peripatetic mother, Izzie.

 

Local girl Tam shows Charlie around her new school, and they learn that they are both from single-parent families. The pair soon become strong friends.

 

Tam, who loves words, is delighted to find that Izzie has taphophilia, a love of cemetery headstones and is keen to write a book about them. When Izzie walks through a graveyard, she ‘feels like she’s strolling through the pages of a book, a colouring-in book that only has the outlines of pictures … She wants to colour the pictures in.’ 

 

Charlie and Tam are intrigued by a neglected Coalburn grave which has only the words ‘Esme 1940 – 1985’ visible, but those people who the pair might expect to provide answers – Tam’s Nan Ngaire and Emma’s former classmate, Ernie the local librarian – remain tight-lipped. ‘Questions asked and unanswered’ spur the girls on in their quest.

 

(Their time spent in the local library does have one positive aspect. It gives Bill Nagelkerke a chance to dispose of an aged cliché. Ernie, the elderly librarian, informs the girls, ‘This is a library. No need to whisper.’)

 

The visits to the cemetery trigger several interesting family discussions of memories and past experiences.  Charlie’s mother, Izzie, starts off with heart-stopping words, ‘Listen, Charlotte, there’s something I have to tell you. 

 

Meanwhile Tam’s grandmother reminds her that family stories get passed down the generations. ‘That’s how lives last. Every family has at least one storyteller,’ Nan Ngaire continues, ‘The stories tie us each to the other. Keeps us tethered like mountain climbers roped together.’ Which is a lovely simile but why is it that Tam’s father Matt has no idea who his own father is?

 

I tell you it wasn’t easy growing up without a father to my name.’

 

Tam is worried that Nan Ngaire doesn’t like Izzie’s ‘morbid interest in cemeteries … and where that sort of interest might lead.’  Tam wants them both to stop researching Esme since it is disturbing her touchy grandmother. Charlie agrees but at the same time she is convinced that Esme is communicating with her.

 Better that we keep our heads down,’ Charlie says.

But the Esme speaking in her head responds, ‘That’s how you run into brick walls. If you do, you’ll just hit one of those brick walls. You don’t like the thought of that, do you Charlie?

Charlie’s bursting to tell Tam about what her mother has told her, but not yet. Soon.

 

The girls turn their attention to their upcoming tramp to Midas Hut, a beautifully-described bush walk, with Matt and Ngaire. An unexpected accident, however, brings an even more unexpected announcement from Ngaire of all people, ‘Listen up. Once we’ve eaten, I have a story I want to share with you all.’

 

The best storyteller here is Bill Nagelkerke. Young readers may not spot it but Charlie, Tam and the Singing Canary is a strikingly original narrative. It is told in the present tense, with a discreet eye-of-god narrator dividing their time between the two girls. This means readers get a good insight into each girl’s thoughts and memories, as well as subtle hints from the narrator. ‘She’s bursting to tell Tam what passed between her mum and her. And she will, soon.

 

This skilful storytelling technique means that when Charlie hears Esme’s voice at Esme’s grave, the reader doesn’t know if it is a real voice or a figment of Charlie’s imagination. (Neither does Charlie.) Tam certainly believes that Charlie is talking to herself.

 

By the end of the story, various strands are tethering the characters together and there is a surprising but enjoyable presentation in the concluding pages.

 

And the singing canary? That’s Nan Ngaire’s story and you’ll have to read this book to learn its significance.

 

This crisply-told story is a richly-detailed celebration of friendship, family and love in a small West Coast town.

 

Bill Nagelkerke’s best novel ever!

 

 

The illustrations and cover are by Monica Koster. She has also created a magnificent aerial view of Coalburn.

 

 

A Name Note:

Interestingly, few of the characters are called by their given names.

Charlie is Charlotte Nowak

Izzie, her mother, is Isabelle Beaumont

Ngaire is Ngaire Taylor, and is also Tam’s Nan Ngaire

Matt, her son, is Matthew Taylor

Tam, his daughter, is Tamora Taylor

 

Trevor Agnew, May-July 2026 [Review 3839]



                        Bill Nagelkerke

Friday, 10 July 2026

 

Roar Squeak Purr: A New Zealand Treasury of Animal Poems

                                                                         


Roar Squeak Purr: A New Zealand
Treasury of Animal Poems (2022)
Editor: Paula Green
Illustrator: Jenny Cooper

 

 

Roar Squeak Purr:
A New Zealand Treasury
of Animal Poems
Ill. Jenny Cooper (2022)
Puffin/Penguin Random House
269 pages, Hardback
ISBN 978 0 14 377514 0

  In this mammoth poetry collection, Paula Green (poet, editor and mentor) promises animals both ‘real and invented, domesticated, wild, endangered, extinct,’ while illustrator Jenny Cooper apologises for the lack of unicorns but promises ‘barnacles and crocodiles galore.’ They both deliver.

Roar Squeak Purr: A New Zealand Treasury of Animal Poems contains an ark-load of animals, from tuatua to tardigrades, dolphins to dragons and karearea to flingamangos.   Paula Green encourages young people to enjoy and write poems, so there are plenty of poems by youthful bards. Equally well represented are such adult writers as James Norcliffe, Janet Frame, Ben Brown, Hone Tuwhare, Joy Cowley, Kyle Mewburn, Lauris Edmond, Bill Nagelkerke and Margaret Mahy.

The poems are all as lively as the creatures they depict. Jon Gadsby describes a hippopotamus as a ‘watery, snortery potamus thing’ while Joy Cowley creates an unforgettable cat in just four lines:

There was a cat called Moggy

Who used to swim in the sea.

It made her whiskers soggy

But it got her fish for tea.

 

My favourites both turned out to be the work of the talented Renee Liang. Not only did she write the world’s first poem about Tardigrades (the tiny creatures who can survive in boiling springs or outer space) but she also wrote the highly educational ‘Zombie Wasp’ which follows the life cycle of a deadly insect:

silent surgeon

jewelled sheath

creeping through

the leaves beneath

 stalks its patient

a crunching cockroach

unaware

it’s booked for lunch

 

Every page carries magnificent colour illustrations by Jenny Cooper, who uses different styles to match each poem. For Peggy Dunstan’s witty ‘Centipede’ she has created a cartoon centipede undergoing a shoe crisis. For Anna Jackson’s ‘Tuatara’, however, the dignified portrait reflects the words perfectly:

the tuatara sitting still

It hardly seems to move at all.’

 Note: There’s a reading of Sacha Cotter’s gloriously funny ‘Chook Chook’ available on YouTube.

 Marvellous to just dip into, Roar Squeak Purr also has two indexes – one for Animals; one for Authors – so readers can find their favourites again.

 The opening line of the first poem (‘Recipe for Happiness,’ by Tom Nalder aged 11) proclaims a perfect theme for this imaginative animal anthology:

 Imagination  - let it free.’

 

Trevor Agnew 11 July 2026  [Review 3847]

**********************************************************************          


Paula Green interview
By Trevor Agnew
30 Sep 2010  
For Magpies Magazine

                                                                                                


 

A small snowball in the head
Paula Green talks to Trevor Agnew

 

 

Paula Green may be the only author to have started her writing career before she could read. Her father was a Minister, with a study and – in those pre-computer days – a typewriter. Paula remembers, “I used to go and sit at his typewriter and write things. This was before I went to school, so it made no sense. I also used to like to write things in all his books, so in the end my parents had to elevate the books, and just have a bottom shelf with books that I could write in.”

 Paula credits her father’s skill at telling stories and using words with sparking her interest in words. “That was my first hook really – hearing him stand in front of a congregation and tell stories. There was a kind of poetry in the way he was speaking.”

 When she mastered reading, Paula found she was an eclectic reader, because in those days, “it was a matter of going to the Library and reading whatever the library had to offer you.” Like many her age, she was transported by Swallows and Amazons, the Arthur Ransome series. “You’ve got all these children who can go and do whatever they like, sail a boat, set up camp on an island for a week.  It doesn’t happen now.”

 She also loved reading A.A. Milne’s poems, but Paula stresses that she has never stopped reading children’s books. “When I started teaching, we had Margaret Mahy. To me, she’s our writer-genius, and she was inspiring for me.  Because I like to be a poet and I like to tell stories, I think she brings both things together – like in A Summery Saturday Morning.

 Two New Zealand poets played a significant part in turning Paula towards a career where writing and poetry would be crucial elements. When she was in Form 1 (Year 8) in Whangarei Intermediate School, the poet Frederick Parmee was her teacher. “He had had a few books published so he really connected with that ‘inner poet in you’ (if there is such a thing) and I just loved writing in that class. It felt like I was taking a really important step in my writing and he gave me a lot of encouragement.

 When she went on to Kamo High School, Paula found her teachers far less positive about her writing. “In fact, I wasn’t fortunate enough to come across any teacher who gave me the kind of encouragement I needed; it was the opposite. I remember my teacher in Year 12 saying, ‘You’re never going to get anywhere in the world writing like you do.’.”

Paula admits that comment threw her, but in the same year (1972) something happened that overrode the teacher’s remark.

 James K. Baxter [New Zealand poet, 1926-72] came to our school, stood on the stage in front of the whole of Kamo High School and he read his poetry and I just felt ‘Wow, this is it.’ I went home and I wrote some poems, some James. K. Baxter poems, and then a week later he died.”

Baxter’s sudden death heightened Paula’s experience. “I can remember I did this painting of him all in blue and wrote some more James K. Baxter style poems. At the same time I discovered Hone Tuwhare’s writing, which was quite different from the kind of things that Baxter was writing at the time, his Jerusalem Sonnets and that. I felt Hone Tuwhare was such a playful poet and cheeky, and I loved that too. All of these experiences set me on the path of writing.”

 They also set her on the path of teaching, something she loves. “I loved Wellington Teachers’ College. I loved being a teacher. I taught in New Zealand, then I went and lived in London and I taught there for a number of years. My last class in London I taught for two years. It was a very small class, a lot of disturbed children with no hope of getting anywhere so I threw the education system out the window. My aim was to get them to want to walk into that classroom. I turned them around. I worked with them for two years and at the end of it I felt utterly exhausted. I left teaching and just knew that I wanted to write. That had to be the main thing and everything else had to fit around the edges.”

 Paula completed her Ph.D in Italian literature at Auckland University and raised eyebrows by interweaving her own poetry with the academic prose of her thesis. “My academic writing conformed to the accepted model but then I printed a poetic version on tracing paper, so you had to lift it up to read the other one. It also meant that I had an excuse to keep writing poetry all the time I was writing my thesis.

 Paula Green became the Literary Fellow at the University of Auckland in 2005, the same year that she organised ‘Poetry on the Pavement’. Although they sound very different, she found the two roles worked well together. As Fellow, she had an office and could write whatever she liked. With ‘Poetry on the Pavement’, she chose a wide range of poems and had them hand-painted on the central Auckland footpaths by a sign-writer.

I had such fun doing that. I made a walk from the top of Karangahape Road down Queen Street, doing a loop so you could go right down to the harbour. My poem’s still there in Kitchener Street. Every now and then I’ll be at the traffic lights and I’ll see someone reading my poem. Once I saw these two guys reading it and when I came level with them, I said, ‘I wrote that. I’m the poet.’ They were Irish and had just arrived in New Zealand and they were saying: ‘Get out of here.’ ‘No way!’ ‘Oh, this is such a cultural place.’ They were so gob-smacked; it was such an amazing little moment.” Paula chuckles at the memory. “It’s not very often when you’re a writer, you get to spy on someone reading your work.”

 

Message on School Librarians listserv, 17 Sep 2010:

“We had Paula Green visit this week as part of our Poetry Week through NZ Book Council - she was fabulous with each class from year 1- 6 and pitched her presentation accordingly. She read her poems from Macaroni Moon and Flamingo Bendalingo with amazing expression and emotion. We all loved her visit and would highly recommend her.”

 Visiting schools to do poetry workshops is important to Paula. “I do lots of workshops from Year 1 to Year 13. That’s quite a range, to be able to go into. My whole idea is that I want them to step over the threshold into the business of writing poetry and to just fall in love with it. From that, if you fall in love with words and how they can spark and collide and do wonderful things, from that you can do all different other kinds of writing.”

 Paula’s earliest such poetry workshop visits were to her daughters’ school and resulted in an illustrated anthology of poems, Flamingo Bendalingo: Poems from the Zoo (2006). “I did workshops, then picked 50 children to be my co-poets.” She prefers not to follow a set formula. “If you’re writing a poem you say, ‘What happens if I put this word next to that word?’  So often I’ll do a jam session where we’ll start, almost like musicians, playing around with words.” 

 So then I start jamming around with words and we start making the words make music, so that each word is a musical note and suddenly it’s just like, it’s thrown everything up in the air, and they can just come to it in a completely different way.  I love doing it.”

  Paula’s method of writing children’s books begins in her head. She laughs, “This might have to change as I get older. It’s like having a little snowball in my head. It starts off small. It’s the seed of an idea, and then it gets bigger and bigger until it feels like there’s no room in my head for any more. It has to come down on to paper. I’ll have a notebook to put it in. For Aunt Concertina, I have got this notebook where I’ve written and rewritten over and mapped out the story. By ‘mapping out,’ I don’t mean making a plan so much as writing my way through the story or poem I’m doing.

 When her notebook is full of what she calls ‘funny poems,’ Paula finally goes to her computer. This is in her study, which she describes as ‘a little box’ near the house. “I’ve got windows that can look out on to the bush, so it’s very good. It’s a self-contained room, which means I’m away from being the mother and cooking and all those sorts of jobs. It’s quiet because we live in the country.”

 Paula is happy to provide a word picture of their surroundings at Bethells Beach. “We live ten minutes inland from the coast. It has black sand and wild waves, and people can drown there if they don’t know how to read the ocean. We go for long walks along the beach and, in winter, you’ll come across baby seals basking in the sun, and little blue penguins nesting. There are mussels on the rocks. Where we live, we can see the tail-end of the Waitakere Ranges, which is a fantastic area of bush in Auckland that is full of wonderful native birds and walks. It’s one of Auckland’s treasures.”

The Terrible Night (2008) introduced a remarkable storytelling cat. Although the tale is amusing, it had its origins in a personal crisis. Paula had been diagnosed with breast cancer but to her surprise this was also accompanied by “a renaissance” in writing for children. “I just loved it.  I decided that I would write junior chapter books, because when my girls were that age I had trouble finding stories that had appropriate content but which also challenged them.”

 With The Terrible Night, Paula decided that the rule for her stories - she has written three more which have yet to be published - was that each had to start from something that really happened to her, and that there would be an animal and a human in it. “The true part of it was I went to my daughters’ parent teacher night on a wild and stormy night in Auckland.  Rooves were being ripped off houses, and trees were being felled. The warning was ‘Don’t go out in this storm unless it’s an emergency,’ but I just thought ‘I have to go, I have to see my daughters’ work’.  And so I went to the school. There was no-one there, and the principal was being gusted across the playground towards me – “Hi, Paula!”  I went to the classroom.  There was no-one in the classroom, not even the teacher, but then in walked the cat.  It went over to the library corner, sniffed the books, then went and sat on a cushion.  And I just thought ‘I have to write this into a story’.  I liked the idea of The 1001 Nights, the classic storytelling thing, where each night you keep telling a story to remain alive.  So I thought of having little stories that the cat tells to the teacher. So there was that really traditional framing device of ‘There, it could be worse’.”

 A similar pattern had emerged in the genesis of Aunt Concertina and Her Niece Evalina (2009). Paula’s daughters, Georgia and Estelle, were the first to hear the stories about Aunt Concertina in their earliest form. Like Scherezade, Paula found herself relating an episode each night. “It began when they were little, and I would tell them the story every night in bed. Aunt Concertina and her niece Evalina had a kite, which could go anywhere, so anything could happen.  Every night, there would be an adventure.  And every night, I thought, ‘I’ve got to write that episode down; that’s a good one.’  But, you know, I was a mother, I was tired, I had so much on that I never wrote down a single word. In all the two years, nothing got ever written down.”

Years later, when Paula was writing the final version of Aunt Concertina, the girls would still rush home after school, this time to see what had been written. “They would race in the door each day and ask, ‘Have you written any more?’”

 Aunt Concertina is a handsomely produced, visually striking hardback, illustrated by Paula’s husband, Michael Hight. A professional painter, he was reluctant to illustrate his wife’s book.  “He’s very busy and he doesn’t see himself as a children’s illustrator, so he wanted me to get a ‘proper’ children’s illustrator to do the book.  But I wrote this book shortly after the breast cancer diagnosis and I think he just decided to make an exception this time.”

 Although Aunt Concertina is richly decorated, Paula actually gave no guidelines for the illustrations. “Basically I wanted to give an open canvas to the illustrator to have a kind of parallel rich narrative, with a lot of things going on. It was all his idea; I had nothing to do with it. And he did those paintings in oil (whereas the Flamingo Bendalingo pictures, he did in gouache) and the oil painting meant that these were much more time-consuming. So I I felt really proud of Aunt Concertina. The writing wasn’t like anything I’ve written before and I’ll probably never write anything like it again but, we both put a lot of time and effort into it.”

 Our interview took place at a particularly busy time for Paula. 99 Ways into New Zealand Poetry (2010), which she co-wrote with Harry Ricketts, had just been published and her fifth adult poetry collection, Slipstream (2010), which deals with her experience of breast cancer, was about to be launched. Paula feels strongly that Slipstream is linked to her writing for children. “I could only write Slipstream when I’d written The Terrible Night and Aunt Concertina and Macaroni Moon - the funny poems.”

 “People say, ‘Where do you get your ideas from?’ They just pop into my head and sometimes I think ‘How did that get there and how am I going to do it?’ The idea was I wanted to try writing poems that make children laugh, that are funny and play around with words. The incredible step from The Terrible Night was those story starting-points, which led to the funny poems then to this adult collection, Slipstream, which is something altogether different.”

 

This article first appeared in Magpies Magazine, vol. 25 No. 5, Nov 2010, pages 1-3, NZ Supplement.


Some of Paula Green’s children’s titles:

Flamingo Bendalingo: Poems from the Zoo, Auckland University Press (2006)

The Terrible Night, Random House (2008)

Macaroni Moon and Other Poems, Random House (2009)

Aunt Concertina and Her Niece Evalina, Random House (2009)

Letterbox Cat and Other Poems, Scholastic (2014)

A Treasury of New Zealand poems for Children, Random House (2014)

Groovy Fish, Ahoy!/Cuba Press (2019)

The Little Tales of Hedgehog and Goat, Puffin (2022)

Roar Squeak Purr: A NZ Treasury of Animal Poems, Puffin (2022)

Remember Me: Poems to Learn by Heart from Aotearoa New Zealand, Auckland University Press (2023)

 

 

Trevor Agnew, Sep 2010. Updated Jun 2026