Two-year-old Prince George went to an airshow with his parents on the weekend. Many news outlets carried a picture of him crying and reaching to be picked up by his mother, a gesture so familiar to most parents you can almost feel those muscles of your back bracing to take the load.
Read MoreI come from a family of writers, mostly journalists. My parents met and fell in love as young reporters on The Courier-Mail in the 1950s. When I was growing up, if you told a story, it had to have a strong lead and put the most important things first. If you didn’t tell it right, you didn’t get to finish it.
Read MoreEnid Blyton is dead not only in a literary professor’s head. She’s more like a Monty Python Norwegian blue parrot kind of dead, deceased, late, no more. She died in 1968, and I suspect hasn’t written anything since. How then can she be releasing books as recently as 2009?
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