Staying authentic as a children's author
It's easy to feel invisible in an industry that celebrates loud voices
October wrap up
October was a month of connection and reconnection for me.
Early in the month, I escaped to the seaside with Katrina Germein for a much needed getaway. I’d been feeling at bit dejected after some difficult news and the short break was just what I needed. Sunshine, blue skies and ocean breezes. It was heavenly. Mid October, I had family from interstate come to stay, which kept me busy, but I did manage to squeeze in five workshops at St Dominic’s Priory College, where I had a lot of fun.
I also managed to get the first six chapters of a new novel written. Originally, it was going to be a mid-grade novel but as I flesh it out, I’m not so sure anymore. It might even become my first attempt at YA! I have a feeling that this one might take me a fair while to write and edit though, as I’m dabbling in uncharted territory and I don’t have much time at the moment.
And now we’re in November! How did that happen? This year feels like it’s whizzed by in a blink. But when I stop and think about everything I’ve achieved, I have to pinch myself. A few years ago, I never would’ve imagined being where I am now -visiting schools and festivals, running workshops, and travelling around the country sharing my passion for children’s stories.
Those who know me well know what a neurotic bundle of angst I can be. They also know I live with a healthy dose of self-doubt. A lot of that stems from experiences in childhood that left me feeling like I wasn’t ‘enough’ on many fronts, and unfortunately, I’ve carried that into adulthood. And now, I find myself working in an industry that often amplifies those insecurities (completely self-inflicted, I know! 🙃).
I say that, because these days, being a children’s author means being so much more than just a writer. We’re expected to be performers, teachers, readers, podcasters, videographers, social media experts, and newsletter writers. It’s no longer enough to simply write a good book. Everywhere you look, popularity, celebrity, and online platforms seem to matter more than the writing itself.
In response, social media is flooded with gimmicky posts as creators chase algorithms, trying to be heard above the noise, because there’s this quiet belief that this is what publishers want. We know publishers are watching the sales figures, the Amazon reviews, the social media stats. And honestly? It’s kind of making people crazy… and worse, inauthentic.
It’s easy to feel invisible in an industry that celebrates the loudest voices. I’ve been doing this for fourteen years now. I’ve won awards for my work, yet I don’t have hundreds of Amazon reviews (and my top book on Goodreads has 35 whole ratings!). I’ve never had a viral post, and I don’t have a massive following on any social media platforms. I haven’t been ‘discovered’ by a famous BookToker or even invited to the big interstate festivals that seem to guarantee the sort of visibility publishers crave. And truthfully, I don’t know how to change that.
What I do know is that I don’t want to live inauthentically just to follow my passion. I didn’t start writing for algorithms or applause. I write for the magic that can happen when a story truly connects with someone the way it did for me when I was a child. I pour myself into my books in ways that outshine any façade I could ever put on social media.
There’s a piece of me in every book I write - my memories, my fears and hopes, the things that make me laugh, or break my heart. If you really want to know who I am, read my books. They’ll tell you more about me than any post or profile ever could.
Aggie Flea is me at six years old and full of wonder, imagination and possibility. The Other Shadow is me as a teenager, navigating a particularly difficult period in my life. Jinny and Cooper is me as a new parent, trying to capture the magic of childhood for my daughter. Oma’s Buttons is me honouring my beautiful mother-in-law. Walls is my despair at recent global events. There is a piece of me in every character I write. I’ve a book out on submission at the moment about a character who is learning what it is to be human and how to fit in (which reflects much of my adulthood angst), and another book where the main character appears small and insignificant compared to the company he keeps, but he actually has a lot to offer if others would only see him.
To me, children’s literature has never been about noise and popularity. It’s about honesty. It’s about capturing a moment of wonder or fear or joy that a young reader might recognize in themselves. When I sit down to write, I’m not thinking about trends or marketing hooks or sales figures. I’m thinking about that one child who might one day hold my book, share a piece of my heart, and maybe… just maybe… see a piece of their own heart reflected back too.
Tan x
My hills life
It has been an unusual spring in the hills this year. Just as the sunshine makes an appearance, it disappears and another wintery blast takes hold. Still, the flowers are beginning to bloom, though we have less than last year, thanks to a particularly naughty chook who promptly dug up most of our seeds shortly after we’d planted them.
Speaking of chooks, we sadly lost one of our girls in October. Kiki, our beautiful Plymouth Rock got sick suddenly and died a couple of days later. She was the head hen in our flock, so the remaining girls have been in a bit of a fluster since she passed. One of them has even taken to crowing at 6am, (or at least, a strange, strangled version of crowing), which as you can imagine is less than delightful. I hope they work out their new pecking order soon, before our neighbours start banging on our door!
Book highlight
Maisy Hayes is Not for Sale by Allayne Webster (Text, 2025)
Fourteen-year-old Maisy Hayes is navigating the challenges of adolescence while facing financial hardship, family stress, and deep feelings of shame about her ‘povo’ lifestyle. With a chronically ill sister, a neglected younger brother, and an overburdened single mother, Maisy’s world feels heavy. When her wealthy, estranged father invites her and her sister to stay with him and his new family, Maisy is forced to confront the divide between privilege and poverty, and question what truly matters.
This coming-of-age book would be perfect for children 14+. It tackles difficult themes with honesty and compassion, creating a powerful and necessary story about resilience and truth.
November events
No public events currently scheduled for November.
Love this post Tan xx And as a fringe-dweller I hear you and can understand your feelings and your take on those 'loudest' voices. I see it all the time and some of the review books that come my way just make me shudder.And some of the 'performers' make me do even more (insert expletives).
This is why I much prefer to do my kind of writing. I can be creative in my own way - and say what I like. It's a bit like Groucho Marx saying he wouldn't be a member of any club that would have him :-).
Your authenticity does shine in your books and there are a few for whom that is also true. Those are the books I - and I am sure, many others - appreciate the most. Sending you love x
Ah, this rings very true! I keep coming back to authenticity in my books too, as characters grapple with how best to be themselves. I think I am always clawing my way back to authenticity, one way or another!