I WON THE LIME PICTUREs NEW STORYTELLER PRIZE FROM TIMES/CHICKEN HOUSE COMPETITION
Three years ago, my manuscript The Apprentice Guide to Fairyside was shortlisted for the Times / Chicken House Children's Fiction Competition. Chicken House invited shortlisted writers to a party to meet the judges who would select the winner. In hindsight, I should have flown over to London for the party, but instead watched the unveiling of the winner on social media from my couch in Australia. It was the most suspenseful, awful way to find out that I did not win. If I had been there in person, the blow might have been lessened with company (misery loves company, right?). Nothing soothes the soul like bookish conversations, good food and wine.
After a night wallowing in self-pity, I emerged clear-eyed, stone-skinned, with one thought on my mind.
I was going to win the next Times / Chicken House Writing Competition.
I’d only been writing for five years - part time, in-between finishing my PhD, working as a lecturer in animation and blissful play with my adorable, chubby toddler. If I go hard at my writing, moving from sixth place to first place would be as easy as skimming a pebble across a pond. Just a few skips away. A Plink. Plonk. Plunk.
Three years later…
… I was still grinding out my ninth or tenth draft of my manuscript The Wrangler’s Daughter.
The Wrangler’s Daughter is an epic sci-fi time travelling adventure that follows the plucky Adana March, a student at a school for time travel, who journeys through time on her chronobear to find her missing father. I’ve always loved magic school stories (Gimme anything from Harry Potter and Simon Snow trilogy to The Poppy War and A Deadly Education). The idea of creating my own magic school that trained people to be time-travellers was irresistible. My hero Adana specialised in wrangling these giant, probably carnivorous chronobears, forcing them to jump through time. Along the way, she makes friends (and enemies) with other students who are training to be historians, spies and fashionistas.
It was meant to be a super-fun-joyous writing experience, just like writing my first manuscript Apprentice Guide to Fairyside, where my husband had to tell me repeatedly to stop chuckling at my own writing. It turns out skipping stones across a body of water is harder than it looks. If you don’t execute a perfectly timed sequence of physical principles - spin, speed, angle and shape— instead of a lovely, hollow Plink. Plonk. Plunk, you get a PLINK. PLONK. FLUNK.
I spent three years levelling up in what felt like an endless Rocky Balboa montage sequence. I read A LOT of science fiction. I undertook a 12-month writing mentorship with the brilliant Margo Lanagan (For a profound story experience, read Singing My Sister Down and Other Stories). I took all the feedback from my stalwart beta readers, and I revised, cried, then revised some more. By the time I submitted draft ten or eleven of The Wrangler’s Daughter to the Times / Chicken House competition, my well was drained. I had nothing left to give.
Around September 2025, Chicken House emailed to inform me that The Wrangler’s Daughter had made the long list. A giddy thrill swooped over me before I managed to smother it, and flip my universe right-way-up again. I knew I wouldn’t win so there wasn’t any point getting excited. There had been too many challenges, the writing hadn’t flown from my fingertips. I don’t think I even told anyone I made the longlist. I got on with my life — went to work, played with my 3D printer, experimented with my latest laser cutting project. Then one night, I saw a missed phone call from the UK. I guessed what had happened right before Barry Cunningham, the managing director of Chicken House, called me back to let me know I had made the shortlist for the competition. After the phone chat, I couldn’t suppress that voice in my head any longer, the voice that said, ‘Hey, maybe this story does have legs. Maybe it is good enough.’ That voice infected every other part of my body. I’d be shelving books in the library and see the name of a writer friend on the front cover, and my heart would skip a beat. That could be me! It was a horrible-wonderful time.
I did not end up going to the UK to attend their Big Breakfast unveiling of the winner. As luck would have it, I’d already booked a family holiday to London for the September school holidays. When Barry found out, he arranged for me to have lunch with Shalu Vallepur, the editor of Chicken House, during my visit. It was an extremely thoughtful, kind gesture, especially given how bad I felt missing out on the party three years ago. And Shalu was so knowledgeable and interesting, she was a highlight of my family holiday to London (tying with the Harry Potter Warner Bros Studio Tour).
Finally, the Big Breakfast event rolled around in November. Once more, I sat on my couch with my emotional support team (my husband, my bischoodle and a range of alcoholic beverages). My phone rang at 9pm. Barry was on the other end telling me I’d won the Limes Picture New Storyteller Prize.
I screamed.
Then, babbled incoherently.
I don’t remember much more than that.
Gentle laughter on the other end. Some very kind words from the judges about my work being ‘breathtaking, bold and bonkers.’
Afterwards, James and I celebrated with gin and tonics, phone calls to my family and friends were made, there was a lot more squealing. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Eventually, I came down from the clouds and got on with life again. Congratulations to Shefali Kharabanda who won the overall competition, and to all the shortlisted writers Olive Morris, Hannah Nathan, Beth Holland and George Wigzell. I already know we’re going to do amazing work.
Right now, I’m sitting in my office, writing a blog post on one computer screen, developing story ideas for a sequel to The Wrangler’s Daughter on my second screen and looking for a literary agent to help me with my writing journey on my third screen. My life is full, my creative well has been replenished and my pen is poised. I can’t wait to begin my next phase of my writing journey.
