I completed that piece, sent it to Paul and had it accepted by Reed Methuen almost immediately. And then, with some regret, he rejected the story of Rosie and Michael. I didn’t feel particularly daunted.

I then submitted Possum Perkins to Ashton Scholastic (now Scholastic New Zealand). Scholastic accepted the book at about the same time that book number three, Shooting Through, was also taken up by Reed Methuen.

I have never bothered to do the sums, but I think Possum Perkins is my clear winner in world-wide sales. I was lucky. Ashton’s then publisher, the late Duncan Nicol, sold the American rights to the book to Scholastic US, where it was published under the title Paradise Lane—the Americans thought it sounded nicer and, besides, they didn’t want easily confused young Americans having to grapple too much with the difference between Australian opossums and their own indigenous possums. They published a lavish hardback edition, followed by a mass-market paperback. It sold very well indeed. It was taken up by Hutchinson in the United Kingdom, again with a hardback followed by paperback. In France, as Princesse, it came out in a very lovely edition by L’École des Loisirs; Denmark, Sweden and others all followed. Most recently, and to my enormous satisfaction, it was published in Albania for sale in that country and in Kosovo (just about the only other place where Albanian is spoken). In all truth, not a large edition there. The Swedes must have loved it. They did the obligatory hardback and then a printing of 20,000 in paperback. Rosie, Michael and Plum the possum have travelled far and wide.

The work received significant acclaim, most particularly in the United States. Publishers Weekly gave it a boxed review, School Library Journal a starred review, and Kirkus a pointed review and called it ‘riveting and unforgettable’. I seldom keep reviews; I nabbed these wee quotes from the back of the jacket on the US edition of Agnes the Sheep.

There were certain ‘ironies’ in the history of Possum Perkins. The education authorities in sunny Queensland, Australia, would allow only single copies to be held in school libraries; no class sets of the book were permitted. Apparently, they would have relaxed this edict had I been willing to sign an affidavit, or disclaimer, to the effect that the relationship between Rosie and her father was not incestuous. I declined. Really, if you think about it, no matter what I signed would make any difference to the story being told between the covers of the book.

The rights to Possum Perkins finally reverted to me a year or two back. A major New Zealand publishing house wanted to republish the work for sale in this country and the United States. I was delighted. Negotiations proceeded amicably and with enthusiasm on both sides. Fresh artwork was done for the book and it was re-designed. Every little thing moved along swimmingly—right up to the signing of the contract, when I received a phone call from the editor working on the book. They had decided to withdraw. ‘For what reason?’ I asked. ‘I thought you were more than ready to go with it.’

What reasons indeed! I could have tolerated economic ones; however, on the advice of their ‘advisory panel’ they had decided that certain aspects of the story were unsuitable and more than a little worrying. On hearing this, I jumped to quite the wrong conclusion.