The Whole of My World
When the whole of your world is football, sometimes life gets lost between goals.
What does the world of your book feel like?
It’s a wet and wintry Melbourne in 1984, so there’s the big hair and the puffy shoulder pads, but also the innocence of a time before mobile phones and the internet.
If I fell into your book, what would I hear and smell and feel?
Eucalyptus and liniment, cut grass, and mud. The relief of a hot pie warming your icy hands on a wet and cold Saturday afternoon at the footy, the thump of boot on ball, and the cheering laughter of a crowd of people doing what they love most.
Who would I have to watch out for?
Ginny Perkins at Shelley’s school has some issues, but probably it’s Tara, Shelley’s new friend, we need to worry most about. She’s essentially on her own but probably the last person on earth who’d ask for help.
Who would keep an eye on me?
It’s Shelley’s story in every way. She might not be doing the greatest job of taking care of herself, but she’s an expert at protecting her dad from seeing her pain and struggles. She’s fiercely loyal, too, even though she gets a little waylaid for a time there.
What do I need to bring with me?
A warm jumper and an autograph book. A Glenthorn Falcons scarf would probably put you in good stead, too, if you’re very keen.
By the time I came home again, I'd know more about . . .
Grief, family, Australian football, and all the machinations and permutations therein. Plus 1980s Melbourne when football and religion ruled our lives, and trams ruled the roads.
Thank you, Nicole!