What is it that makes Australian YA so special – hilariously funny and sad at the same time – but just so wonderful and capturing? It’s not that I’ve read heaps of Australian books, but the tendency can’t be denied.
“How could someone like my dad be in trouble? It wasn’t the sort of thing you’d expect of him. He’s a big, open, easygoing Australian. He came over from Brisbane with qualifications on accountancy, intending to study economics -which is how he met Mum, who was reading English Literature at the University of Manchester.”
“Australian girls nearly always begin to think of ‘lovers and nonsense’, as middlefolks call it, long before their English aged sisters do. While still in the short-frocked period of existence, and while their hair is still free-flowing, they take the keenest interest in boys- boy of neighboring schools, other girls’ brothers, young bank clerks and the like.”
“Colin Mudford, a 12 year old Australian, is sent to stay with his uncle Bob, aunt Iris and cousin Alistair in London while his brother, Luke, is being treated for cancer. ”