At my mother’s funeral a few years ago, her one-and-only great-granddaughter (Hollie Smith) read out a self-composed poem, titled ‘What’s in a dash?’, which I thought was very clever, and which I now borrow, because she’s referring to the dash between the dates, as depicted in the title of this post. In the case of John Marsden, it’s an awful lot, if you read the obituary in the link I provide at the bottom.
He would be largely unknown outside of Australia, and being an introvert, he’s probably not as well known inside Australia as he should be, despite his prodigious talent as a writer and his enormous success in what is called ‘young-adult fiction’. I think it’s a misnomer, because a lot of so-called YA fiction is among the best you can read as an adult.
This is what I wrote on Facebook, and I’ve only made very minor edits for this post.
I only learned about John Marsden's passing yesterday (Wednesday, 18 Dec., the day it happened). Sobering that we are so close in age (by a few months).
Marsden was a huge inspiration to me as a writer. I consider him to be one of the best of Australian writers - I put him up there with George Johnston, another great inspiration for me. I know others will have their own favourites.
I would like to have met him, but I did once have a brief correspondence with him, and he was generous and appreciative.
I found Marsden's writing so good, it was intimidating. I actually stopped reading him because he made me feel that my own writing was so inadequate. I no longer feel that, I should add. I just want to pay him homage, because he was so bloody good.
This is an excellent obituary by someone (Alice Pung) who was mentored by him, and considered him a good and loyal friend right up to the end.
On a philosophical note, John was wary of anyone claiming certainty, with the unstated contention that doubt was necessary for growth and development.
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