Hi, I'm Conrad Marshall and from the Sydney Morning Herald and The Age.

Welcome to Good Weekend Talks, a magazine for your ears, featuring in-depth conversations with fascinating people from sport and politics, science and culture, business and beyond.

Every week, you can download new episodes in which top journalists from across our newsrooms talk to compelling people about the definitive stories of the day.

In this episode, we speak to Jane Harper.

Just under a decade ago, she fulfilled the classic fantasy of closet novelists everywhere and published a murder mystery called The Dry, which became an international bestseller.

Nine years and two children later, she's written five more hit novels, which have been made into a two movie starring Eric Bana and a Netflix miniseries to boot.

She's also become one of the most admired and critically acclaimed crime writers anywhere in the world, loved by peers as diverse as Marian Keyes and David Baldacci.

She's even credited with establishing a whole new fictional genre outback noir.

Her sixth novel, Last One Out, was published last month, and she talks to us today about how to plan a novel, the secrets to creative achievement and her former life as a journalist, and hosting this conversation about what it feels like to achieve a childhood dream.

Is the writer of our October 4th cover story about Harper, A Life of Crime.

And that's good weekend, senior writer Amanda Hooton.

Thanks, Conrad, and welcome, Jane.

Thank you for having me.

Your latest book, Last One Out, your sixth book, was published, I think, just a couple of days ago.

Is that right?

Yeah.

So it's brand new.

Yep.

So it's exciting to see it out there.

It is.

It's fantastic.

It must be fantastic.

How are you feeling?

What's happening?

You know, what's the sort of, um, process of of releasing a book?

You know, it's so interesting, I think, with this last one being the sixth book in that, um, being on tour and seeing it released it, um, it really brings back memories of certainly the first book, The Dry, um, coming out.

It's very interesting to kind of, um, kind of retread some of the same steps, you know, sort of seeing retailers and having events.

And, um, it really, I think, makes me reflect on the last ten years in the last six books and just how, um, I guess, like, you know, I've sort of changed as an author and how the, the, the books have kind of, um, you know, have developed.

And so, yeah, it's a very it's actually quite a moment of reflection, I think, when the new book comes out.

Yeah.

Does it feel, you know, good.

Do you, are you glad that you're still here ten years later?

Are you, you know, obviously feel, um, sort of like you're in you're in the right world.

You're doing the right thing.

This was a a good decision to move from being a journalist to doing an online writing course, you know, sitting at your kitchen table for an hour every morning and every evening, you know, banging out what became the dry and then having this massive, massive success.

It all seems worth it, I'm sure.

Yeah.

Oh, look it does.

And I think to the point that sometimes I look back, um, to the point when I was writing The Dry, and I remember there was a few times when I was so close to giving it up.

I mean, I really, I really felt like, you know, I was kind of struggling and there was no, um, obviously pressure or expectation at all on me to complete that book.

And there were at least, you know, at least twice.

I remember thinking, you know, I could just stop.

Nobody even knows I'm writing it.

Nobody cares.

I don't really need to put myself through this.

Um, and luckily, I think both those times I was I was over halfway through.

Right.

The kind of the first draft, which was further than I ever got in any piece of kind of fictional writing, I thought, well, look, I've done half of it.

I may as well finish.

Just I'll just I'll just plow on, plod on to the end.

Um, so thank God I did, because sometimes I think back to those moments and I get this kind of cold sweat, you know?

Absolutely.

It's like a sliding door moment.

None of this could have happened.

I could have been living an entirely different life.

I know.

And and I mean, thank God.

I guess that version of myself would never have known what she missed out on.

Um, but I'm really happy I'm living in this version anyway.

Absolutely.

Gosh, that's such good advice.

Well, such a good reflection, isn't it, when you think, you know.

Because we do give up on things, don't we?

I mean, you people, you sort of constantly involved in these sort of things where you think I'm going to do this and you don't usually exactly, as you say, get, you know, over halfway through something and then think, I'm going to give it up.

But especially with creative projects, it's, it's it's so hard to keep going, I think, especially in a, in a sort of vacuum of no feedback and no experience and, and no, um, no sort of reason really to, to press forward, except, I guess, that sort of inner prompting.

Yeah.

I mean, that is something that that you've talked about, you know, a lot you've done a wonderful Ted talk about it, which I've watched, which I can highly recommend.

Um, which is a sort of a kind of an advice to to writers and to people who are embarked on that kind of creative endeavor about, um, you know, how to kind of talk yourself off the ledge in a way and keep yourself going and keep yourself motivated, as well as some sort of more practical details.

I mean, if you could look back at yourself at that kitchen table now and think about what would have been most useful for you to hear.

I mean, you didn't give up, but what what would have kept you going if if you'd come closer to stopping?

Do you reckon that you know, now that you didn't sort of know then.

Yeah.

And you know, and, um, actually, funnily enough, I actually heard someone else, um, sum this up in a way that that crystallised it in a way I'd never quite thought before.

It was an author called Amy Lovett, who was an Australian author who writes more sort of literary fiction, denied that she's had two, two books out.

And I heard her, um, in a conversation.

And she also teaches writing, and she was talking about advice she gives to her students.

And and she said that the thing she would love them to, um, really understand is, um, that, um, look, I'm paraphrasing a little bit, but essentially when you're kind of an aspiring writer, um, nobody is going to kind of pluck you out of the crowd and say, you know what?

I really believe you can do it.

Maybe here's an advance.

Here's here's a, here's a here's sort of some, some belief in you, um, you know, you know, I can tell that you've got it in you to do this.

You have to you have to have that belief in yourself, and you have to do it before anyone else will come to the table.

Um, and, and I think genuinely, that is what has stopped, what stopped me for years because I think I didn't really have that belief in myself.

And I wanted someone to kind of come along and say, you know what?

I think?

I really think you could do.

Something in.

You.

I see something in you that's exactly it.

And, you know, and that doesn't happen.

Um, but I think that's what I was sort of subconsciously waiting.

For.

Permission from someone or or, um.

Yeah.

The kind of thumbs up from some someone who knew what they were talking about.

Yeah.

Um, and and that's that's what held me back.

And I think that is obviously what holds back a lot of people.

And I would I would kind of love people to maybe just try and, um, get past that and really try and from somewhere find that belief in themselves to, to to take on this project and, and see it through to conclusion and then see what happens with it.

Yes, yes.

Just give themselves a chance.

Exactly.

Give themselves permission to have a go, maybe.

Yeah.

And especially in a creative field like you mentioned earlier.

I mean, with creative projects, it is so easy to pick them up and start them and not complete them.

And I think and I think I mentioned this in a TEDx talk because it feels really, um, frivolous and quite self-indulgent to when we've all got, you know, jobs and family commitments and, and a thousand things we could be doing to sort of sit down and think, you know, I'm going to really focus on this writing or painting or songwriting or, you know, you know, acting or whatever.

Whatever it is, it feels very hobby ish.

And, um, that's those are often the first things to go when the time pressure creeps in.

But then, you know, you never really know how far you could take it if you never sort of give yourself that time.

How how do you know what you could achieve with it, really?

Absolutely.

I think that's I think that's absolutely correct.

So, well, there's a a note, a note for all of us.

That's right.

Yes.

Get on with the great Australian novel.

But I suppose, I mean, when you came to writing, it wasn't it wasn't completely sort of virgin territory for you because you were already a journalist.

You'd been a journalist for over a decade.

But as a journalist myself, one of the things I'm fascinated by is that transition.

And, you know, as, as one of every, you know, a million journalists who all believe that we could be great novelists, if only if only someone would notice, exactly as you say.

But but what what are the differences between journalism and and and fictional writing?

Um, how How did you make that switch in, in your own mind between going from something that that is, you know, based in fact and, you know, every person who speaks has to be a real person and has to be quoted accurately.

And all of that stuff, all of those kind of rules and restrictions that you face constantly in journalism, how did you kind of let go of that and, and do things like build, you know, believable characters and, and plots and, you know, all of that stuff?

How where does that come from when you're so used to having it be kind of in the real world?

Yeah.

Because that was um, I guess the, the benefit I was found with journalism was that, um, the story was already there.

Exactly.

You know, it was finding a way to tell it.

So, I mean, you know, you didn't have to kind of work out what had happened or to whom or whatever.

You know, you kind of went along and asked the people and they told you, you know, um, so that was a huge benefit there.

But, um, I think, I mean, there were so many things that journalism helped me with.

I think it was then a question of taking those, those things and then filling in the gaps.

So, for example, I mean, I remember when I was first writing the first draft of The Dry.

Um, you know, I thought fiction had to have kind of quite a lot of flowery language, and it sort of became apparent quite quickly that, um, that style didn't really suit me.

And I sort of just went back to kind of the more kind of sparse journalistic language.

And I found that, um, suited me a lot better, and I felt it was reading a lot better.

So kind of embracing, I think my natural writing style that I developed through the newspaper helped.

Then, um, even sort of practical things like when you interview someone, as you know, you pick out the best quotes, you know.

So again, similar it's similar to that when you are choosing what dialogue people should say, um, you know, you want them to say the best things and can you can you let people really know other things in other ways?

And I see so all those kind of things and then um, but yeah, it was really I think the big challenge was that the plot and the kind of the, the ebb and flow of keeping a story going, um, um, and that was, I mean, a lot of it honestly, is kind of just trial and error, like it's just you just have to kind of do it to see, to see, to see how you can fix it.

Yeah.

Right.

And and feeling your way through, like feeling trying to I think put yourself in the shoes of the reader, which also you did as a journalist.

You do as a journalist.

And try and feel that kind of emotional flow of, you know, what do they need now?

Do they need a moment of levity?

Do they need to have something to hook their attention?

Yes.

Um, yeah.

Just trying to and and a lot of it is just kind of a layered process, trying to constantly refine it.

Yeah.

I mean, we talked a lot when, when we met for the, for the story in Good Weekend about your planning, which is, you know, extremely extensive and, you know, extends to sort of 35,000 words.

And, you know, some people I think you said some people would call it a draft, but it's not a draft.

It's actually it is actually notes and sort of, um, schemes for yourself to keep track of what's going on and where and when and what conversations and things.

But I was thinking about this, thinking about our talk today.

The thing that struck me was that I, I still didn't really have a grasp of how you manage to build character.

I suppose you know, these these people.

I think one of the things that's really remarkable about your novels is that the people feel really real.

Um, and that extends even to the killers, for want of a better word.

Well, but they are killers.

But but somehow your books are so non melodramatic that saying killers seems unfair to them.

I mean, what they seem to be often is just, you know, sort of people just pushed to absolute extremes by circumstances or their own sort of troubles.

But, um, I wondered I wondered if you had some sense of what it or you could give us some sense of what it's like to, to build a character, for instance, a the, the sort of narrator of, of a novel.

Um, um, so in your most recent book, for instance, last one out for the first time, you've got a female narrator.

Rogue crawly.

Is it?

Or do you say Crowley?

Oh, I say Crowley.

But.

Crowley.

Crowley.

Um.

And and so it's the first woman you've ever narrated.

And I wondered how you kind of got yourself into her space, you know, into her mind to feel sort of comfortable, to sort of carry a whole novel in her voice.

What did you do?

Yeah, I think I think to develop a character, it does take, um, it takes me a little bit of time.

I mean, I sort of hear some some authors and some kind of writing, you know, um, writing tips and things about, you know, you should know your character really well before you start.

You should know their coffee order and you know what's what's on their bedside table and all kinds of things.

Um, and I think, look, it is good at some point to maybe have a sense of that.

But I think also you get to know the characters by exposing them to situations.

So, you know, you sort of start with, um, I mean, for me, Roe was the obvious character for last one out in that, um, like with all the main characters, They always have to be, um, someone who who I think is best placed to tell the story in that they, they have a specific, um, relationship with, um, the, you know, with whatever the crime or mystery is, they have a specific relationship with the police.

They have a good kind of network of contacts and relationships within the the various cast of characters.

Um, and they are really going to be the person who has the best insights to, to to guide the reader through.

And then in terms of kind of flushing them out.

Um, often it that kind of comes in a planning stage where you think, you know, okay, well, how would they respond to this situation if they're meeting this person in the pub or they're seeing that, you know, that building for the first time in five years or something?

What what kind of emotions, I guess, are going go through them in their minds.

Yeah.

And and how do you know that you just sit there and think what's my sense of Roe.

Yeah.

In this moment, what would she do.

Kind of feels right.

I mean some of it is just is kind of, um, I guess instinctive for want of a better, better way to put it really, I think.

But but it is sort of also, um, trying things on and seeing how they fit.

Like, is she.

Is she angry?

Does that feel right?

Maybe not.

Does she feel?

I see.

Does she feel okay?

What is it?

Is it more sort of a sense of grief, perhaps?

Or is it more?

Is it more a sense of kind of nothingness?

So she does.

She sort of.

Did she expect to feel something and really feels nothing, you know.

So which one of those sort of feels right?

And usually the answer kind of emerges.

I see.

Um, so would you write several different versions of that, of a response like that and then see which one felt right to you in the beginning sort of phases of stuff?

No, I wouldn't, I wouldn't no, I wouldn't write it until I'd worked out which I.

Would do it in.

You run it in your head.

Yeah I would, yeah.

And I'd sort of make, I'd sort of, I'd sort of run it.

Yes, I'd probably run it in my head.

And then I'd kind of make a note of what felt like the best, you know, and also you probably not explicitly saying it.

It's probably more reflected in how she is behaving.

So.

So once you decided how she feels about it, what does she do about it?

Does she turn away in disgust?

Does she throw a rock through a window?

You know, like what's what's the sort of, um.

So it's first like, what is she?

What is what is she feeling?

And then how is that going to be conveyed to the reader?

And then that's probably the bit that would go down on paper.

I see, I see.

Yeah.

It feels like when you're talking about these people, it feels as if you just have this cast of real people that you can kind of select.

You know, you have this cast of people and you say, okay, this is the person who has all the right connections, and this is the person who should be the the narrator, as if she's sort of already there.

You know, it's such an interesting process, but I guess at some point in the planning and in the conception of the novel, you, you've you've sort of these, these people, this group of people have come to you.

Talk to us about last one out, for instance.

That's a small community.

They have been sort of torn apart by the arrival of a mine on the land, kind of close to the town and and lots and lots of the people have sort of sold up out of the town.

So there's this sort of remnant of the town is still there is, is that is that right?

Yeah.

Exactly.

So I mean, I wanted, um, you know, this book is, um, so, so it's a, it's a mystery and it's about, you know, um, returning to this, um, sort of sort of skeletal community, um, five years after the disappearance of her 21 year old son, um, kind of to to to sort of, um, you know, partly keep his memory alive and partly try and make peace with what's happened.

And, um, she's not really putting on a detective hat and I think expecting to find answers, but but I think in some way, you know, um, a question without answers kind of demands, um, attention, you know, and you sort of, um, she's trying to kind of make, um, fun a bit of resolution, I think, for herself.

And then so that the disappearance of her son has kind of fractured her family.

You know, it's it's really broken down, um, this sort of unit that she had and then kind of mirrored with that is the is is the town which is going through a sort of similar process on a larger scale, where this industrial business has opened up not too far away, and it's essentially made the residential aspect of town unlivable.

You know, there's noise and there's, um, there's dust and there's constant kind of movement of industrial traffic and things.

So, um, the this community that had been beloved and treasured is really is really no more, um, but a few people who are kind of hanging on for their own reasons.

Um, and when we meet, when we meet Rowan, the and the character in town there, it really is on its last legs.

It's five years since the disappearance, and there's really very little holding them all together in that place.

Yeah.

And so did you have a did you, did you had you read a story about a community like that, had you seen, you know, a town like that?

What what was the sort of kind of kernel of the idea for, for that novel?

Yeah, I think yeah.

This is something I always tell people is to write down any ideas you have because you never really know when when you're going, you know when they're going to kind of come into their own.

Um, I mean, I the, um, the idea that eventually became last one out was something a note I made, probably, I would think at least five years ago, um, which was a story about, um, a town which, um, not not not dissimilar to, um, the one in the book, although that's, that's sort of heavily fictionalized, but, um, where, you know, people were being interviewed about this sort of loss of their community and they were really lamenting, um, you know, all the things they'd loved about it that had disappeared.

You know, the football club and the the pub closed and all the shops were gone and the neighbours had moved away and things and, um, and I remember reading that story and just really being struck by, um, the question about why these people had remained, though, because everything they'd loved about the town had had gone.

And, um, but I wrote that.

Well, I made a note of that story at the time, because I think I found that aspect really interesting, but I wasn't quite sure really what to do with it then.

Like, the idea didn't quite, um, it didn't quite form itself into into an idea at that point.

Um, it was only kind of.

Yeah, really.

Later when I was sort of looking back on it and the sort of the wider story that ended up becoming last one out started to kind of form.

Um, but if I hadn't made that note five years earlier, I mean, I probably would have forgotten about it completely.

Yeah.

So it's always worth writing these things down.

Always.

Make.

Notes, as Nora Ephron said.

Exactly.

And I suppose then you gather all those those people around and, well, you know, you you have that.

That's interesting because it's almost like the setting comes first or the sort of scenario, and then you, you populate it with people and things.

I remember when we spoke, you said you sometimes you some of these ideas, you might sort of try for a while as, as potential novels and then you realize they don't, they don't sort of hold water or they're not, they're not going to kind of make it.

Is that just a question that they're not complex enough or there's not enough?

There's not enough sort of variation or there's not not you can't get enough people involved.

What is it that sort of helps you make that call?

Yeah, I mean, I so I would do a lot of thinking before I would commit to kind of doing serious kind of planning work on a novel.

Um, you know, I think it does take quite a lot of time and creative energy to kind of draft like a whole plan.

So, so I would sort of, I would really be running a lot of scenarios in my head before I settled on what I felt was the right, right sort of story.

And there's quite a lot of yeah, there are quite often I sort of hear or think about or come up with an idea that I feel like in itself is quite interesting.

But then when I think about how to expand it, it maybe doesn't it doesn't quite have enough avenues, um, to make a whole novel.

And it's like, how do how do I quantify that?

I guess it's things like, you want a scenario where there's enough.

Um, yeah, there would be there would be an opportunity to have, you know, enough characters to create, you know, a sort of a question about what exactly has gone on.

They they would need an excuse to interact with each other quite a lot.

Mhm.

I think they need, there needs to be something that's kind of holding them in one place.

So you don't have characters kind of hopping in their car and disappearing.

Yeah.

Heading off to the city for a new life.

You know, they need to sort of have a reason to sort of be there for at least, you know, the duration of the novel.

Um, and so, so when you're sort of going through the checklist a little bit, gradually some ideas do tend to fall away.

That's fascinating.

Yeah.

That makes that makes total sense.

Yeah, I can see that.

I can see that.

And it also raises another question that I, that I, I have, which is that you are someone who is clear when we spoke and also, you know, from reading your novels you really care about, um, the sort of, um, believability of, of both your plots and, and your characters.

You know, you, you were saying how you spend a lot of time thinking about whether, you know, people's actions are kind of justifiable or whether that would would they really do that?

I mean, the lovely story of, um, you know, would would, uh, it's Gemma, isn't it, from exiles?

Oh, yes.

Would Gemma have really had a drink with Aaron Falk in the bar after five minutes of conversation?

And.

And what did your husband say?

When I showed him that scene?

I said, is it is that do you think it's believable?

Have they had enough sort of small talk?

Do you think she would he he would ask her to stay and she would she would agree to stay and have a drink and, and he said, well, the good news is every everybody reading is going to be picturing Eric Bana.

So yes, it's believable.

She would, she would, she would say have a drink.

That's right.

Yeah I thought that was so good.

But I also think it's so good that you, you obviously think a lot about this stuff, which is not something that bothers some authors, you know, and it doesn't necessarily detract from the novel either.

I mean, I think crime fiction in particular is filled with really pretty extreme kind of characters that you could never imagine existing in real life.

You know, from Hercule Poirot to, you know, some of the people in Thursday Murder Club seem pretty wild to me.

Yeah, and you can love them all and enjoy them without needing them to be real.

But that sort of believability is really important for you.

And I wondered.

I wondered, why is it.

Yeah.

Is it the journalism?

Is it just that that's the kind of story you like to read?

What?

Yeah.

What is it?

I mean, I enjoy.

I mean, I was thinking, you know, about, I mean, in terms of, say, Lee child and Jack Reacher.

I mean, could could Jack Reacher really exist?

But you want him to.

But.

Yeah.

And I mean, I wonder if is it because he he feels real within the context of the books?

You know, he's very consistent.

He's consistent within himself.

And so the things he does, maybe they feel believable because because they're believable for him and within that world that has been created.

I mean, and same with maybe the Thursday Murder Club as well.

It's true.

It sort of feels it doesn't feel jarring, maybe.

Um, but you're right.

I mean, I do I do like to have that.

I do like to have the sense of realism.

I think, um, I don't know why.

Why particularly beyond I think that, you know, it's very rare, you know, in real life to have a definite kind of black and white situation.

I mean, very few people are truly bad people and even even those people, I think probably if you delve deep enough into, you know, their background and things, there's probably explanations around upbringing or mental health.

Or.

All kinds of reasons.

And um, and, and I think, you know, good people as well.

I mean, often people are good because of circumstantial, you know, um, things that mean that it's it's easy for them to be good.

They really don't have moral dilemmas or financial difficulties that that ever put them in a situation where they have to decide, yes, really, what to do.

So, um, I guess that's maybe what I'm bringing out with the characters, that kind of middle ground that I think we all occupy.

Yeah.

Um, and sometimes people are tested more than others, and sometimes people make choices and but really, um, you know, none of us maybe know exactly how we would react until we're in that situation.

I think that's true.

And I think that's one of the keys to why your novels are so engaging is that the people in them, by and large.

And I'm interested to know whether this is true for, um, your American audiences and your English audiences.

But I suppose it probably is that certainly for Australians, I think there's a real sense of recognition in, in a lot of the characters, they feel quite familiar.

And so that is what, um, that's part of what creates this sort of sense of tension and, and sort of, um, not horror in a, in a sort of, in a, in a explicit way, but this horrifying psychological position where you feel, you know, somebody has done something really terrible in what feels like a very sort of recognisable scenario.

Um, so I, you know, I yeah, I guess that that that's you may not really know why you do it, but certainly it works.

Yeah.

It does, it does have a, it has a real impact on the reader because the reader relates to it, I guess.

Yeah.

And I think that's kind of what I, you know, I find kind of most, um, you know, moving or and settling or, you know, the thing that kind of stays with me longest in, in books and, you know, films, I guess, where, um, because it's there's nothing really.

I think that scary in, like, a fictional serial killer, you know?

You know, it's very fictional.

You know, it's sort of it's an outlandish scenario.

It's not really going to ever, you know, thank God, like, touch any of us, you know?

But, um, there is, um, you know, and similar with kind of really dark scenarios as well.

It's very easy to kind of come up with a very dark side.

It's just genuinely upsetting.

And yes, you will absolutely get an emotion from the reader, but it's a bit of a it's a bit of a cheap shortcut, possibly.

Yeah.

Um, you know, and I think, I think really for me that the emotional kind of, um, resonance is when it's, it is sort of people that your characters are people that you do feel like you recognise them, or maybe you even recognise yourself in them to some degree.

Yeah.

And the scenarios where, you know, it's it's it's traumatic for the, the characters involved.

Um, but really the, the emotion for the reader comes in understanding where their kind of sense of grief and loss.

And, um, you know, lack of justice or whatever comes from it's more that emotional response from the characters rather than just, you know, a straightforward, upsetting scenario for all of us.

I think that's right.

I mean, in fact, your UK editor made that point very, very, um, well, he, you know, he said that you're one of the things you do is you're able to take the reader to a place of imagining, for instance, in Roe crowleys case, what it would be like to to lose a son.

You know, you sort of suddenly you're in that place thinking about what that would feel like, which is not necessarily what you do think in, in every novel.

Have you ever or every detective novel?

Certainly.

Um, have you ever thought about writing something other than detective fiction?

You know, to sort of take those insights into people and, and, and relationships and, you know, the way people are in the world.

Have you ever thought about writing a different kind of, you know.

Like, sometimes.

Yeah, occasionally.

Because sometimes I do have actually an idea or two that I think you know.

Exactly.

It wouldn't work for me, but, um, I mean, sort of yes or no, because part of me, yeah, sometimes I think of an idea and I think, oh, that would be, you know, gosh, that would be great.

Like if I were like a debut author all over again, you know, maybe I could see myself following, following that instead.

Um, but then at the same time, I mean, I do really like the kind of books that I write, and, I mean, I've had such a, you know, such a kind of warm, supportive response from, you know, so many and everybody like the readers of booksellers, the industry, you know.

So, um, I also think as well, it's, it's, it's good to recognize when the grass is very green on your side of the fence as well.

You know, like it's like I'm lucky to kind of have, um, this great sort of genre that I enjoy doing and people, you know, will support me in reading and, and my writing.

So, um, it's worth treasuring that as well, I think.

Yeah, it's true.

Although you could also do, you could always do a sort of, um, um, a JK J.K.

Rowling's thing.

Or.

Well, that's just it.

Exactly.

What is it, Nora?

Nora.

The one that writes as rod or Rob or someone as a.

Yes, I know there are people who.

J.D.

Robb.

That's it.

Yeah.

And it's Nora.

Um.

Oh, gosh.

I can't believe I've forgotten her name, but she writes romances as well.

Um, we all.

We all know who you mean.

We all do.

Um, so you could do it in a sort of different scenario, but.

But, you know, maybe not.

I know.

I think I know.

I mean, that would be it.

Could I sort of sneak it out?

But then.

But then.

I mean, it's sort of, um, I don't know, I'd be so I'd be so paranoid about, you know, what?

If they.

Found.

Out?

How's it done?

Yeah.

That's right.

You know.

So what if my loyal readership found out that I was, you know, moonlighting.

Moonlighting as a romance writer or something?

Yeah.

Maybe not.

I mean, have you read any?

What are some good books?

What what what?

You know, there's all sorts of extraordinary authors.

Um, you know, Marian Keyes is a great fan of yours.

And I'm such a big fan of it, you know what I mean?

Honestly, if I if I was to look back on, you some of my kind of the greatest kind of professional achievements these books have brought me.

One of them is like, I got to meet Marian Keyes and converse with her and, you know, um, which which is honestly like kind of, um, like a dream, like my, my dream sort of scenario.

So, um, yeah.

Like, I'm a huge admirer of hers.

I've loved her books for 20, 20 plus years.

So.

Yeah.

Um, but I mean, it's really exciting seeing I think a lot of, um, there's a lot of really great Australian authors at the moment, like Sally Hepworth, who's got a new book out called Mad Mabel, which is so much fun.

She's a really she's a really sort of fun, smart, gritty writer.

Um, I really liked, um, Kate Mildenhall's new book as well.

It's called The Hiding Place, which is, um, Kate jumps genres a lot, um, which is very impressive.

And her latest one is kind of a is sort of a crime ish feel, which is a group of people, um, on a kind of a working bee in the, in the bush.

And it just goes horribly wrong in many ways.

Absolutely.

Page turning.

So, um, yeah.

And Benjamin Stevenson as well, who's kind of, um, modern twist on kind of a classic crime sort of stories, which, um, again, really fresh and original.

So it's really there's a lot of really great kind of talent out there, which is, which is always exciting to see.

Fantastic.

So speaking of great books, have you got any.

I mean, it's so early and I don't know how your system sort of normally runs.

You've you've written six books in nine years.

So you're on a pretty, you know, you're, you've set a kind of a, a pretty swift goal for yourself in terms of producing these really excellent books with surprising frequency.

Um, what do you have any ideas about the next one?

Do you, do you do you need a break?

Do you have a big break after each one and then write quite quickly?

How does it.

Work?

You know, I always I always allow myself to kind of mentally have a break.

But it's interesting how often in that time, um, the ideas start to flow.

It's actually it's actually a surprisingly kind of fruitful period, I find when, um, the the book is, the book is gone, you know, it's gone to the printer.

It's out.

It's the my work is completed on it, but I'm still kind of in the in the kind of zone of still thinking about writing a lot.

And, and there's something about, I think having that, um, the mental break of having the book, the previous book kind of, um, off your plate, so to speak, but still, um, that the ideas do start to flow.

So.

Yeah.

So look, I mean, I think it's a, I try and let myself just let them, let them sort of run as they will.

And I always write them down, you know, so I can kind of make them later.

Exactly.

Um, and just sort of relax with it a little bit and see what settles.

And often it's that kind of that period of mental relaxation where it does tend to they tend to start building, building up, and usually the way sort of for the next one starts to become quite clear.

So yeah.

So um, yeah.

So watch this space I guess we'll see what, see what rises to the surface this time.

Fantastic.

Well, I, for one, am very much looking forward to it.

Oh, thank.

You and thanks so much for the chat today.

It was lovely to talk to you.

Thank you for having me.

That was the best selling crime novelist Jane Harper.

In conversation with Good Weekend senior writer Amanda Hooton for the latest Good Weekend talks.

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