One week until my true crime memoir, Dear Madman, is officially launched into the world at Avid Reader. YAY! To say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement. Not for want of trying, either. Over the past twelve years, Dear Madman has been submitted hundreds of times and even made it to a few acquisitions meetings with big publishers, but never quite made it over the line. 

As all writers know, rejection is part of the job description. What non-writers don’t know is just how much each rejection hurts. A LOT. I knew this project was good – compelling, dark yes, but with a kind and hopeful heart – and couldn’t understand what was stopping publishers taking that last step and accepting it for publication. The decision usually came down to the marketing folk not being able to see where it fitted on bookshelves. HINT: The memoir section! Or True Crime! Two for the price of one.

I was first told about the man who killed my beloved Nana’s sister when I was a child. Since then, I’ve carried this story, always in the back of my mind. Trying to make sense of it, to shape it into a story, to create meaning from this senseless tragedy, seeking a way to understand it and the man himself so I could attempt the forgiveness rejected by my forebears. 

The story weighed heavily upon me, and I knew I had to be an experienced writer to attempt it. I also had to wait, until Nana and her generation had all passed. Nana’s been gone 30 years and her sister, the last of them, 24. All my life, whenever I tried to write the story or drew another picture of a girl with blood in her hair, my mother told me, “Whatever you do, don’t show Nana.” So I waited and carried the darkness of this story with me through life.

In 2010, I finally gave myself permission to start researching the truth behind the family myth. What I discovered took me down many deep rabbit holes and revealed a story with more twists and turns than the river that ran through the family farm where Nana grew up. Four years later, I took a suitcase stuffed with 15 kilos of printed research materials to Varuna House in the Blue Mountains where I’d been awarded a second book fellowship, determined to write my memoir. 

However, once I started to write another stronger voice demanded to be heard – the voice of the murderer. He was so loud and insistent he would have stolen the story for himself, so I made the decision to also include the multiple voices of Nana and her siblings and parents. I wanted to bring back to life the little girl who’d been murdered so young, to free her from the darkness that had entangled her with the bad man forever. After two weeks on retreat, I emerged with a full first draft – a novel recreating the events of the crime.

After this novelistic version failed to fly, I wrote an extended memoir piece talking about my research and what I’d discovered and the meaning I’d created from this tragedy. I intended to publish this separately as a companion piece as Kate Grenville did with her, Searching for The Secret River. That didn’t work either. 

More rejections. Argh they hurt! But year after year I kept scraping myself back up off the floor, continued teaching writing and started running writing retreats to share all I’d learnt. 

Then in the early 2020s I attended my friend, the incredibly talented writer, Kristina Olsson’s memoir course at QWC. Her award-winning book Boy Lost had been my model for Dear Madman, especially the way Kris had recreated scenes from her mother’s life. After the course, I met up with Kris and asked for her help with Madman. All those rejections had brought me very low. I was back down on that mat, and the referee was already at eight by the time I saw Kris. She reached a hand down to drag me back up to try again. Thank you Kris!

More drafts. I stopped counting how many after ten years. More submissions. All requested full reads. Agents loved it but didn’t know where to try (a hard ask as I’d tried just about every trade publisher in Australia), publishers read and sent brief, “not for me” messages without any further feedback. Another draft. Another rejection or two. 

Until I’d had enough and called my friend Matthew Wengert at AndAlso Books who published both Queersland and Bjelke Blues. Hooray for the little guys who are willing to take a gamble on a powerful story. 

British artist Tracy Enim once famously said, “If you can’t open the door, smash it down!” So with Matthew and his team on board, that’s what we’re setting out to do. I’ve been writing solidly these past 24 years and submitting to big Australian trade publishers the whole time. No matter how hard I tried, that door wouldn’t open. So now I’m blasting it down!

But for that door to really be smashed to smithereens, I need your help. Reviews, recommendations to friends, requests from your local bookstore, pre-orders, blog posts, social media photos – each small action will help the magic start to work. For months now my Heavenly Support Team has been cheering and partying up there like something wonderful has happened. Hopefully they’re right!

If you’d like to pre-order a copy you can do so HERE.

The launch on Friday March 6 is officially booked out but I have other events coming up. 

APRIL 18/2026 2 pm: Dear Madman, in conversation with the super lovely and talented Fiona Robertson at Books@Stones. Book HERE

APRIL 26/2026 11 am: Dear Madman at the Police Museum in Roma Street (Ha! Last time I was there was under very different circumstances!! Joh era). No link to the event, as yet.

How long does it take to write a book? As long as it takes! 

I held a copy of Dear Madman for the first time on my birthday last week. It felt good. Very good. Relief initially, but as the days have passed I’ve experienced a great lifting of this dark burden, a new lightness being born within me. 

At last, this story I’ve carried most of my life is out of my head. I no longer need to bear its weight. Now it’s outside me in a book I can put down and pick up again. A book that is born and is now in the hands of you, the reader (and the heavenly support team). Phew!

Thank you for travelling this long road with me. I hope you’ll enjoy the fruits of my labours. See you at one of the events, I hope! Come and say hello. 

Lots of love,

Edwina xx