Born and raised in Dinosaur Country at Lightning Ridge, a small outback mining town 700 kilometres northwest of Sydney, Janet grew up on a remote sheep and cattle property amidst the infamous opal mines. Her days were filled with home schooling, riding horses, and exploring her wild dusty world, before being sent off to boarding school in Sydney.
Janet, a mother of two adult children, now resides in Sydney’s inner west, working as a marriage celebrant, artist, and now writer, as well as enjoying her days with her two amazing grandchildren.
Welcome to my website which gives you a little insight into my life as a Children's Author, Artist and a Sydney based Civil Marriage Celebrant.
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Janet ventured into writing her children’s story many years ago, on a beautiful old red typewriter (which has since been lost) about an anxious adolescent Olliegator (part of the dinosaur clan.) Ollie experiences enormous bouts of self-doubt and lack of self-worth, which makes him incredibly sad, muddled, and confused. His adopted sister Rattie, a very funny self-reliant bush rat is always at his side, making him see the funny side of life, as they venture into new and exciting worlds.
It was noon ~ the town stood still
Shuddering under heat
Occasionally a truck lazed by
Carrying bony sheep
I was twelve ~ maybe more
Always drove the ute
Again, I parked a block away
From the Coppers coop
On the corner of the main street
A piano sat alone
The building had been razed last year
It’s future left unknown
And on the dusty sidewalks
That etched a picture grey
Stood men from every walk of life
Knowing better days
The opal had been lean that year
The rains were still to come
Lost and lonely faces sat
Swigging beer and rum
Sunday was a big event
The priest arrived that day
Having spent last night a ‘drunk
He’d preach he knew the way
One day he said, I will not wed
Or birth or death attend
Until that plate puts on some weight
You lose God’s only friend
The main truck came but once a week
It was a local sport
Lining up in the small backroom
You’d wait ~ as Dot would sort
If rain had come, the mail truck’s run
Was certain not to be
There’d be no correspondence school
We’d hit the scrub with glee
Two Athol trees stood ragged
Outside Dick Brown’s café
Lifeless under the summer’s gaze
Shading nothing ~ but ruddy clay
I strolled into the general store
And bagged up all our needs
Then headed back along the track
Where stood my faithful steed
And on passing the ‘dead-centre’
That lurched through paddocks red
I pondered on my forebears
More alive than dead!
Her inspiration and passions have developed over the years from writing bush poetry and customised wedding ceremonies for her wedding business, to now being inspired to write her first children’s novel.
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Janet loves to draw and paint in her sandstone basement with music playing and the odd Karaoke moment in between ~ perhaps David Bowie!
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Janet has been a wedding celebrant for over ten years and adores every minute of it! Before that, she ran her own tour guiding business, which means she loves people, and is very used to public speaking and just going with the flow!
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