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Andrew E Wade

This website includes material by and about Rosemary's late husband, author, journalist, film editor and Reiki Master Andrew Wade, 1929-2012 (aka Ewart Wade) – and particularly his environmental fairy story, Jorell.

The book is fiction but the fairy is real! See this link for a review of the book and further details about its genesis, and this one for readers' responses to the book, which is loved by both children and adults.  The paperback is now out of print, but it has been issued as an e-book available from Smashwords.

Andrew and Rosemary wrote a blog about their research into psychic children: The Truth About Fairies.

Andrew's other blogs are:

The Magic of Life, interviews with exceptional people. Its most recent entry consists of tributes to Andrew – himself a remarkable person – after he died.

The Game of Life, pieces of life writing, for a memoir that never got written.

A Life in Small Stones. From time to time I (Rosemary) engage in a practice of mindful writing initiated by Satya Robyn, called 'small stones' – essentially, small pieces of observation, recorded and polished. When Andrew, in old age, became unable to sustain longer pieces of writing, I suggested he take this on. He did, with enjoyment and some delightful results, recorded in this blog.

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Movie: People in Performance

Created by Kenneth Smeaton, recording Melbourne poetry history. In this episode I'm featured, reading what was once my most famous (or notorious!) poem.


Poets Out Loud

They started with me! (Pardon my excitement.)

Enterprising young poet Sarah Temporal has just organised a new series of monthly poetry readings in Murwillumbah NSW where I live (and she lives). They began last Thursday with a varied and exciting program of two featured readers (me and Matt Hetherington) and lots of brilliance in the open sections. Here I am in full emote on the night:



And these are the poems I read, the first two from my book Secret Leopard, the second two much more recent, from my blog The Passionate Crone:


The Day We Lost the Volkswagen
During a momentary lull in her head, the poor old thing lost her grip. The boat she was towing towed her instead ponderously down the slip. backwards into the water.
For a swirling moment she almost floated, she thought of setting sail. But her bum tilted, her britches bloated — she was heavy in the tail — and the sly seaweed caught her.
I thought even then she might make a try (she seemed to be righting her flank) but she spun gravely, one eye on t…