Imagine a children’s book so eagerly anticipated that it sold out before it even hit the shelves. That’s the story of Possum Magic, the Australian classic that catapulted Mem Fox into literary stardom. But here’s where it gets controversial: was its success purely about timing, or was there something deeper that resonated with readers? Let’s dive into the remarkable journey of this beloved book and its creator.
In 1968, a 22-year-old Mem Fox, then studying drama in London, jotted down a life-changing note in her journal: ‘I don’t want to be an actress, I want to be a writer.’ Little did she know, it would take 15 years for her dream to materialize with the publication of Possum Magic at age 37. Reflecting from her Adelaide home, Fox recalls, ‘I knew long before that I wanted to write, but the path was anything but straightforward.’
Much like Hush, the adventurous marsupial star of her book, Fox’s journey was circuitous. By the mid-1970s, she had swapped London for Adelaide, teaching drama and raising her daughter, Chloë, who adored books. ‘Back then, there were no Australian picture books,’ Fox notes. ‘Plenty of English and American stories, but nothing that reflected our culture.’ This gap in the market became her inspiration.
Reading to Chloë sparked Fox’s interest in children’s literature, eventually leading her to enroll in a course at Flinders University. One assignment required her to write her own book—a task she initially dismissed as ‘beneath me.’ ‘I thought it would be easy,’ she admits with a laugh. ‘Boy, was I wrong.’
Fox’s first manuscript, Hush the Invisible Mouse, faced rejection from nine publishers before the tenth agreed—on one condition: she had to shorten it and replace the mouse with a distinctly Australian animal. The result? Possum Magic, which became an instant sensation upon its 1983 release, winning Australia’s Children’s Book of the Year in 1984 and selling over 5 million copies.
‘People were starving for it,’ Fox recalls. ‘They wanted stories that reflected their lives—the food, the animals, the cities. And Julie Vivas’s illustrations? They were pure magic.’ And this is the part most people miss: the book’s success wasn’t just about its Australian identity; it was about the rhythmic, lyrical prose that made it a joy to read aloud.
Fox’s subsequent books, like Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge (1984), Where Is the Green Sheep? (2004), and Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes (2008), have all become classics, cherished by generations. Yet, despite publishing over 50 books, Fox insists writing for children is harder than it looks. ‘Every word, every syllable, must be perfect,’ she explains. ‘It’s about creating a musical flow that captivates young minds.’
Growing up in Zimbabwe as the daughter of Christian missionaries, Fox credits the King James Bible for her love of language. ‘Its rhythm and beauty are unmatched,’ she says. Yet, she avoids being preachy in her own work. ‘Kids don’t want to be lectured,’ she notes, recalling how her daughter rejected a heavy-handed book on feminism. ‘I state facts—about love, hope, and humanity—without telling readers what to think.’
Fox also reflects on the evolution of Australian publishing, including the rise of celebrity-authored children’s books. ‘They bring money to publishers,’ she acknowledges, ‘but they rarely endure. Kids know when a story isn’t genuine.’ At 80, with several books in the pipeline, Fox shows no signs of slowing down. ‘I might not live to see them published,’ she jokes, ‘but the stories will live on.’
Thought-provoking question: In an age of celebrity authors and Instagram influencers, what does it take for a children’s book to truly stand the test of time? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation!
