Anne Henderson

As a writer I suppose I′m something of a feral late starter. I live in a house full of books; for decades I′ve packed them in boxes with every house move and carted them miles around Australia. I walked my babies up and down the book shelves to distract them when they cried. For seventeen years, I combed their pages for odd passages to distract my English and History students. I like books. I buy books. I smell books everytime I walk down my hallway to the front door.

But it wasn′t until I met Lily that I ever thought of writing a book. Lily never went to school. She grew up in southern China and in her aunt and uncle′s mixed business in Cairns. Her...

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