Margaret Clark
1943-

(Has also written under the pseudonyms M. D. Clark, Margaret D. Clark, and Lee Striker) Australian author of picture books, easy readers, and young adult novels.

The following entry presents an overview of Clark's career through 2002.

INTRODUCTION

A_prolific writer whose works cut across several genres, Clark is one of the most popular children's and young adult authors in Australia. Although she has written over one hundred books—easy readers, picture books, horror stories for the middle grades (under the pseudonym Lee Striker), and humorous short novels—Clark is best known for her series of young adult novels that address problems affecting contemporary adolescents. Teenaged audiences have appreciated the seriousness with which Clark treats their range of anxieties and concerns, from battling with self esteem and body image issues to coping with poverty and life on the streets. She is also known for her series of "Aussie Angels" books, featuring a pair of animal-loving children whose adventures on an Australian nature preserve provide Clark with the opportunity to share a wealth of facts about her native country.

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Born in Geelong, Victoria, Australia, in 1943, Clark began entering writing competitions at the age of ten and still shows samples of these entries at author talks and writing workshops. She began teaching primary school in Geelong in 1962 and worked as the director of a pre-school until 1982 at which time she became a lecturer in education at Deakin University. Clark attended Toorak Teacher's College and graduated in 1985, earning a B.Ed. with honors. From 1985 to 1995, she served as Education Officer for the Victoria Health Department Alcohol and Drug Center, a job which provided a wealth of material for her young adult novels. Clark's first novel, Pugwall, was

published in 1987 and proved so popular that the book and its sequel, Pugwall's Summer (1989), were both adapted for television. Continuing her schooling, Clark received her M.A. in education from Deakin University in 1990 and her Ph.D. in children's literature in 2001. Since 1995, Clark has worked as a freelance author and travels extensively, speaking to groups of both teachers and students. In an article written for Magpies, Clark commented that, "[a]s a humorous author, I write to entertain. I also write to examine contemporary issues and to create a literary piece of work. But my main aim is to get children to read."

MAJOR WORKS

Chronicling the life of a girl who dreams of becoming a model, Clark's "Lisa Trelaw" novels—such as Fat Chance (1993), Hot or What (1995), and Kissand Make Up (1999)—are among her most popular. In this series, Clark addresses issues surrounding body image and self esteem. Fat Chance finds Lisa obsessing about her figure as she begins to plan a future in modeling. Hot or What opens with Lisa achieving her dream as a top teen model and then questioning whether the model's lifestyle is really what she wanted after all. In Kiss and Make Up, Lisa is stuck at home helping her mother in volunteer efforts, while her boyfriend, Mike, seems more interested in surfing that in spending time with her. Using situations and characters drawn from her social work, Clark examines the subject of teenaged runaways in Back on Track: Diary of a Street Kid (1995). The story follows fifteen-year-old Simone who has run away from home with her boyfriend, only to find that life on the streets is not as romantic or glamorous as she expected. Care Factor Zero (1997) is another dramatic tale of a troubled teenager. Larceny Leyton is a foster child who earned her nickname as a thief. She becomes involved in a murder and begins hearing voices telling her to hurt people. When she attacks a man and thinks she has killed him, she flees to the big city of Melbourne where she finds a social worker who helps her put her life back together. In No Standing Zone (1999), the world turns upside down for Link and his sister after their mother and father separate. When their father deserts the family, they discover that he has another family in New Zealand, and the financial fallout of the resulting divorce leads to a dramatic change in their lives. Their mother is forced sell their home, and the move to a poorer neighborhood also means a move from private to public schools. Their new classmates are tough and streetwise, and Link and his sister must learn to adjust. Secret Girls' Stuff (1999) was a departure for Clark, both in format and tone. Instead of a novel, the work is constructed as a journal—a collection of letters and e-mails from Clark's fans, advice and commentary, and diary entries. Covering a range of subjects, Clark explores issues of concern to teenagers, addressing them with great sympathy and offering a range of choices and options. Clark followed this book with two similar titles—More Secret Girls' Stuff (2001) and What to Do When Life Sucks (2001). In addition to her young adult "problem" novels, Clark is known for her "Egg" series of picture books, a number of easy-reader series such as "Aussie Angels," the "Chickabees" series about five classmates who form a girls' pop music band, the upbeat and funny "Assorted Shorts" tales aimed at reluctant male readers, and a number of irreverent horror novels written under the pseudonym Lee Striker.

CRITICAL RECEPTION

Critics have expressed admiration at Clark's wide range of published works, with some arguing over the effectiveness of her prolific output. Several reviewers and social workers in Australia have lauded her "problem" novels and noted that these works give an enlightened voice to alienated and troubled teenagers. Many have commended such works as No Standing Zone for their sympathetic ruminations on the social and developmental plights of confused adolescents. For example, Lynn Babbage has praised Secret Girls' Stuff for its "conversational, chatty style which does not adopt a preachy or didactic tone. The feel is that this is not a grow-up trying to tell teenagers what to do or how to behave. Rather it comes across as a sympathetic ear prepared to take teenage concerns seriously and offer choices and options for the reader to consider." Critics have also recognized Clark as a skilled humorist, arguing that the primary reason for the wide-reaching appeal of her works is her judicious use of comedy to entice reluctant readers. However, some have questioned the social relevance of Clark's young adult novels and asserted that her writing often comes across as didactic. Such commentators have stated that Clark's books are overly aggressive in their tackling of important issues, making them read like reductive self-help manuals. In a review of Care Factor Zero, Megan Isaac has observed that, "Clark's story of a young adult forced to rely on wits and aggression breaks no new ground, but as long as society remains unwilling or unable to protect these teenagers, their stories will continue to have appeal and currency."

AWARDS

Clark's books have been short listed for a host of children's choice awards, including the White Raven Award in 1993 for Wally the Whiz Kid (1995), the EARS Award in 2001 for Hold My Hand—Or Else! (1993), and the YARA Award in 2001 for A Wee Walk (2001).

PRINCIPAL WORKS

Pugwall [illustrations by Cathy van Ee] (young adult novel) 1987

Pugwall's Summer (young adult novel) 1989

The Big Chocolate Bar (young adult novel) 1991

Tina Tuff [illustrations by Lin Tobias] (easy reader) 1991

Famous for Five Minutes (young adult novel) 1992

Plastic City [illustrations by Craig Smith] (easy reader) 1992

Ripper and Fang [illustrations by Ann James] (young adult novel) 1992

Fat Chance (young adult novel) 1993

Hold My Hand—Or Else! (young adult novel) 1993

Calvin the Clutterbuster [illustrated by Kerrie Argent] (easy reader) 1994

Ghost on Toast [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1994

Living with Leanne (young adult novel) 1994

Back on Track: Diary of a Street Kid (young adult novel) 1995

Biggest Boast (young adult novel) 1995

Hot or What (young adult novel) 1995

Tina Tuff in Trouble [illustrations by Lin Tobias] (easy reader) 1995

Love on the Net (young adult novel) 1996

Pulling the Moves (young adult novel) 1996

Care Factor Zero (young adult novel) 1997

Web Watchers (young adult novel) 1997

Annie with Attitude (young adult novel) 1998

Hot Stuff [illustrations by Tom Jellett] (easy reader) 1998

No Fat Chicks (young adult novel) 1998

Kiss and Make Up (young adult novel) 1999

No Standing Zone (young adult novel) 1999

The Search: Coolini Beach (young adult novel) 1999

Secret Girls' Stuff (young adult novel) 1999

Bad Girl (young adult novel) 2000

Cool Bananas: Coolini Beach (young adult novel) 2000

Hooking Up (young adult novel) 2001

More Secret Girls' Stuff (young adult novel) 2001

Rave On (young adult novel) 2001

A Wee Walk [illustrations by Craig Smith] (young adult novel) 2001

What to Do When Life Sucks [with Dr. Claire Fox] (nonfiction) 2001

Galumpher (young adult novel) 2002

Night Works (young adult novel) 2002

The Mango Street Series

Weird Warren [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1993

Butterfingers [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1994

Britt the Boss [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1995

Wally the Whiz Kid [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1995

Bold as Brass [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1997

Millie the Moaner [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 1997

Mango Street Mania! [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (easy reader) 2001

The Chickabees Series

Hot and Spicy (easy reader) 1998

Stars (easy reader) 1998

Bewitched (easy reader) 1999

Brush with Fame (easy reader) 1999

Far from Phoneys (easy reader) 1999

Sugar Sugar (easy reader) 1999

The Aussie Angels Series

Hello Possum (easy reader) 1999

Okay Koala (easy reader) 1999

Seal with a Kiss (easy reader) 1999

Whale of a Time (easy reader) 1999

Cocky Too (easy reader) 2000

Dollar for a Dolphin (easy reader) 2000

Horse, Of Course (easy reader) 2000

Operation Wombat (easy reader) 2000

Sheila the Heeler (easy reader) 2000

Wannabe Wallaby (easy reader) 2000

Camel Breath (easy reader) 2001

Dog on the Job (easy reader) 2001

Duck for Luck (easy reader) 2001

Mouse Pad (easy reader) 2001

Owl Express (easy reader) 2001

The Assorted Shorts Series

Board Shorts (easy reader) 2000

Boxer Shorts (easy reader) 2000

Dirty Shorts (easy reader) 2000

Footy Shorts (easy reader) 2000

Holey Shorts (easy reader) 2000

Stinky Shorts (easy reader) 2001

The Egg Series

Egg's Box [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2000

Egg's Cosy Day [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2000

Egg's Cup [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2000

Egg's Shell [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2000

Egg Goes Fishing [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2001

Egg's Tent [illustrations by Bettina Guthridge] (picture book) 2001

AUTHOR COMMENTARY

Margaret Clark (essay date September 1994)

SOURCE: Clark, Margaret. "The Serious Side of Humour." Magpies 9, no. 4 (September 1994): 11-13.

[In the following essay, Clark examines the use of humor to encourage children to read about serious subject matter, citing several of her own works as examples.]

Humour. A difficult emotion to understand, for what one person finds hilariously funny another finds mundane and trite. The playwright Alan Ayckbourn says, "I am interested in the quality of laughter rather than simply making people laugh. If you juxtapose humour and tragedy it creates tension. I like that, because it forces people to question their attitudes."

As a humorous author, I write to entertain. I also write to examine contemporary issues and to create a literary piece of work. But my main aim is to get children to read.

I visit many schools and subsequently their libraries. On those wire stands so endemic to these hallowed places are paperbacks placed in tempting arrays. Sadly many are pristine in appearance, a sorry testimony to the fact that they are unread. However, the books written by such authors as Paul Jennings, Morris Gleitzman, Roald Dahl and (heaven help us, say the teachers) junior horror by R. L. Stine, are either conspicuous by their absence because they are "out", or are unashamedly dog-eared, giving visible evidence to the fact that they are well loved and well read.

"But the kids will always choose that type of book," said one librarian irritably when I pointed out this anomaly on her library shelves. "That's why it's my job to lead them to good literature."

There's an old adage: you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. There is an assumption that children cannot choose what is good for themselves—foods, TV programs, books.

Studies have been done concerning children and food. Interestingly, if given a choice of "good" foods (fruits, vegetables, cereals, dairy foods) in addition to "junk" foods, toddlers will ultimately choose what constitutes a balanced diet.

I believe that the same theory can be applied to literature. Eventually the reader will weary of Pony Club or Sweet Valley High and reach for something different, maybe even something "good". Why not let young people "read wild"? Why not let them have fun with books, read adventure and humour, hook them into reading so that it becomes a habit, a voracious habit which can then be satisfied with a varied diet? The key is variety.

I have just finished reading David Koresh and the Waco Siege. The females in the sect were fed a diet of only popcorn for long periods of time to keep them slim (plus it was probably cheap and filling). Popcorn actually has good nutritional value. But, like bread, we cannot live on popcorn alone. Humorous popcorn needs to be enhanced with some descriptive narrative bulk, some fleshy tales of intrigue, some munchy, crunchy, smooth, sweet, tangy word-foods. But often humorous popcorn is excluded totally from the reading diet, dismissed as frivolous, not "good" literature.

Maurice Sendak, author and illustrator of Where the Wild Things Are and other children's books, gets many letters from his fans. Upon receiving a charming letter from a little boy, he drew a picture of a Wild Thing on a postcard and sent it to him. The boy's mother wrote back, "Jim loved your postcard so much that he ate it."

I want children and young people to "devour" books, to love them so much that they read and digest the messages, laugh at the humour, marvel at this powerful world of words. A diet of humour, mystery, tragedy, fact and fiction, books, books, books.

When children tell me that my book is the only one they've read from cover to cover, I am not elated. I am sad. So many books and they have "cheated" by skim-reading portions to satisfy some academic requirement, or just "read the last few pages".

It is interesting to note that my little book Ripper and Fang is in great demand now by teachers who have discovered that reluctant readers are devouring it over and over again.

"Write another, just like it. Not too many cartoons though. Just the same formula."

The formula? Ripper and Fang is a simple story, with clever illustrations by Ann James, which no doubt add greatly to its appeal. But the "thought bubbles" which give it that quirky humour beloved by children are written in modern idiom, that "slang" again, which is the formula for success. Everyday it-could-happen-to-you comedy. Situational stuff, about a boy, a biker and a dog, for ages five to nine. And guess what? The formula works every time.

Calvin the Clutterbuster , with illustrations by Kerrie Argent follows the same formula. So does The Biggest Boast . The humour in these books is gently introspective, allowing the reader to laugh with the characters rather than at them. Homespun humour. It could happen in anyone's house, with anyone's family.

Well, not all. I was work-shopping a Year Six and had successfully whipped up enthusiasm with everyone writing furiously except one serious boy who sat gazing blankly at me.

"Doesn't anything funny happen at your house?" I said.

"No."

"Okay, write about anything that comes into your head. Anything."

He still looked blank. I found out later that he was the only child of older parents, the mother in a wheel chair and the father a dour, unimaginative man who suffered from bad humour. That kid needed some laughter in his life, and the only way he was going to get it in the school milieu was through … you've guessed it … reading humorous books.

"But I can't see any deep and meaningful messages in Weird Warren and Butterfingers ," said a teacher when I was discussing my two new Mango Street books for older primary readers.

Messages. My new Mango Street series is full of messages. Weird Warren is this kid who continually worries and drives his classmates up the wall. Butterfingers, in the same classroom, drops things all the time. The next two books in the Mango series examine classroom personalities in a similar vein, showing that individual differences should be acknowledged and respected. Bossy Britt is a regular little stand-over merchant. And Wally the Whiz Kid is the highly intelligent and misunderstood kid who is labelled as one of the Nerd Herd. No messages? Children's social learning takes place predominantly in the classroom. They learn to interact with others, to observe social niceties and obey social norms (with certain consequences if they don't), to form relationships which slip and slide like shifting quicksand, for such is the nature of life. No messages? The point is that I do not try to bash the reader over the head with "messages"; these are implicitly woven through the books and often extrapolated through a humorous situation.

"What rubbish. The Mangoes … Weird Warren and Butterfingers," said a teacher when I was explaining my rationales. "Those kids are funny. They're in my classroom."

Exactly. And was that teacher getting her students to respect and admire the dichotomy of the various personalities? Or were these personalities being stereo-typed without looking beneath the layers of humanity?

I was in a school last week when the Year Five teacher burst into the staffroom, looking ecstatic.

"You ought to see their writing," she said, waving a sheaf of manuscripts. "I told them to write an order."

I looked non-plussed.

"You know, like, 'Tidy your room' or 'Get your elbows off the table' or 'Get up'. And they all started writing furiously, even the kids who normally hate writing. And some of their stuff is so funny, yet so deep."

Of course. Why? Because they were involved in writing about their own worlds from their own perspectives of adult orderliness. And this is what I try to write, always from a humorous point of view, so that it is not threatening, it is not demeaning, there is permission to enjoy some rebelliousness without having to experience it "in the flesh" with possible negative consequences. ("You're grounded!" or "Don't speak to me like that" or "No pocket money for two weeks") It is realistic voyeurism to be enjoyed from the safe security of the printed page.

Never disempower humour, for it is often the vehicle for exposing the foibles of human frailty.

Plastic City was born from anger. I was working in a state school classroom, a Year 6. In front of me sat a veritable sea of designer tee-shirts and windcheaters emblazoned with Gucci, Country Road, Rip Curl, Esprit.

"What's with all these name-brand tee-shirts?" I enquired.

One boy put up his hand.

"If you don't wear this stuff no one will be your friend."

I was stunned.

"Who else thinks that?"

A forest of hands shot skywards.

"So you don't like me because I'm wearing a No Brand tee-shirt?"

"No. You're different."

I was angry.

"Don't you know you're all being ripped off? These companies should be paying you five dollars a day for advertising."

I drove away still smouldering about the insidious invasion of consumerism into young and innocent lives. And there on the edge of the highway was this enormously gross plastic egg with a demented chook dancing about on top of it, the blurb beneath announcing, "Welcome to Contented Chooks Egg Farm". As I arrived at my destination and looked from my hilltop vantage point at the city sprawling below I imagined huge grotesque plastic advertising signs everywhere, almost obliterating the sky … and I had to write Plastic City . But with humour. If I'd attempted a full frontal assault on the vagaries of consumeristic environmental destruction and advertising gone mad the book would have gathered dust on library shelves.

Famous for Five Minutes was created from an anguish that while we are busily empowering the female gender, we are not empowering males to understand and accept the changes. So Peter Nutt became Peta Nutt and learned how girls were treated, demeaned, taken for granted, and the message came across loud and clear through this rebellious and wacky book.

Tina Tuff (and the sequel Tina Tuff in Trouble —I am fraught with pressure from all sides to keep writing sequels) is the story of an angry young girl who exhibits this through tough behaviour. I wanted the reader to laugh with her, admire her gutsiness, yet empathise with her deep-seated emotional loneliness and unhappiness. I could have made this a wonder Misery book, had kids weeping instead of laughing but to what purpose? Far better to empathise with Tina's smouldering anger by making her a wild but funny, lovable character with whom young readers could identify.

How would it feel to be a worryful wimp in today's modern classroom of self-assured, Coke swilling, computer-frenetic kids? Or an angry kid who has no way of expressing or dissolving some of that anger? Imagine the angst of the clumsy kid who wants to fit in? (Guess who always dropped the softball and cringed in terror as the defence goalie lunged at her? Personal experiences are the essence of wonderful stories.) And the brainy kid who's so far off the Jcurve that the other kids think he's totally weird? Or the bossy kid whose underlying self-esteem is so low that she has to bully the others to maintain her identity? The anger here is directed at a system which, while it attempts to recognise difference, never really accepts the odd-ball, the deviation from the so-called "norm".

Humour. Through it can be explored the idiosyncrasies of our society in a non-threatening, exciting, compelling and empathetic way. We laugh. We enjoy. Yet the discerning honesty amongst us recognises that humour is a powerful force, stripping away each onion layer of human emotion and allowing us to question and to think.

Maybe it is time for more humour to take its place alongside the descriptive-narrative tragedies and other deeply evocative novels, a counter-balance in the libraries of our schools, to ensure that children will read. Maybe it's even time to take humour seriously.

GENERAL COMMENTARY

Helen Purdie (essay date May 1999)

SOURCE: Purdie, Helen. "The Chickabees Series." Magpies 14, no. 2 (May 1999): 21.

[In the following essay, Purdie offers an overview of Clark's Chickabees series and notes that the "colloquial language, large amounts of dialogue and simple sentence construction won't daunt reluctant readers."]

The current trend appears to be towards serial novels, rather than a series. It takes five books before The Chickabees, a clone of The Spice Girls, achieve their ambition—to beat another group in a school talent contest. Each book has its own mini-plot, but the contest outcome is not revealed until Book 5. Book 6 details their lives post-contest, with hints of more books to come.

In Hot and Spicy , the Chickabees, a pop group, is formed by Dancer, Tapper, Moddie, Rider and Cee Cee (their stage names). An opposition group, formed after the original auditions, hopes to win a school talent quest to demonstrate what the Chickabees have missed out on. A biased teacher supports SpLice, prejudicing the reader towards the Chickabees.

Stars sees the group acquiring costumes and composing original songs. Treacherous Billy, Dancer's young brother, sells their material to the rival group. Revenge is exacted. The third book, Sugar Sugar , has the Chickabees making their television debut after members of SpLice fortuitously succumb to chickenpox. Again the SpLice group seems to have unfair advantages, but the Chickabees' talent wins the day. Book 5—Far from Phonies —has a showdown between the two groups, with the anticipated result. There are some nerve-racking moments before the competition however, so winning is not seen as too easy.

In Book 6, Bewitched , Cee Cee is dazzled by a young soapie star, Flick, who dispenses advice liberally to the group, promising help in furthering their career. Rider is alienated by Cee Cee's loss of dignity in front of Flick—and her blatant hero-worship of the star. A stolen bike, and a further confrontation with baddie Slack Jack spices up the plot, which ends with stardom in sight for the group.

The books follow a successful formula, designed to appeal to girls who adore horses, clothes, pop music, dance and modelling. The writing tends to be clichéd (teeth gleaming white in her dark face) in the earlier books and the characters are developed very superficially. None of this will bother the intended audience—the pre-teen—who will empathise with the jealousies and petty squabbles, as well as the anxieties. Clark does deal well with issues such as physical bullying and racism, and is never didactic. The books also encourage cooperation and teamwork—as long as you are on the same team—as the Chickabees are cruelly dismissive of the effete, the clumsy and the untalented. Boys generally have a very negative image (which is perhaps not unreasonable, considering the age of the girls!)

The last in the series, while the plot is widely improbable, nevertheless has plausible dialogue (especially the opening scenes with the parents), shows keen insight into kids who achieve fame, and is often very funny. Even the adults are more credible and their relationships with children seem natural. Perhaps also it is the inclusion of the Slack family which makes this book stand out—they are villains you enjoy reading about.

The colloquial language, large amounts of dialogue and simple sentence construction won't daunt reluctant readers. They will find the books enticing and ignore any flaws.

Fran Knight (essay date September 1999)

SOURCE: Knight, Fran. "Aussie Angels Series." Magpies 14, no. 4 (September 1999): 33-4.

[In the following essay, Knight presents a brief overview of Clark's Aussie Angels series, commenting that the "easily digested stories with their friendly positive characters will ensure a following amongst middle primary readers."]

The series, Aussie Angels, has Margaret Clark engaging the younger reader with stories about a group of children whose lives revolve around saving animals in a National Park in western Victoria. In the first of the series, Mike, Meg and Mark use their not inconsiderable skills to save koalas caught in a bushfire. The second concerns a brush-tailed possum which wreaks havoc at their animal haven, and in solving the problem, the children embrace the outsider, Boris Boola, the bully in the first book. The third sees the four save a fur seal, while in the fourth story, they set their minds to the task of saving a beached whale. These easily digested stories with their friendly positive characters will ensure a following amongst middle primary readers, and the plethora of information with which Margaret Clark fills her books will add to their general knowledge about Australian animals and conservation.

TITLE COMMENTARY

THE BIG CHOCOLATE BAR (1991)

Scott Johnson (review date March 1992)

SOURCE: Johnson, Scott. Review of The Big Chocolate Bar, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 7, no. 1 (March 1992):31.

Sometimes it seems that people in authority (in this case, teachers) go out of their way to make life more difficult for themselves. Taking Year Seven students from inner suburban Morlaney High School for two weeks to isolated Raymond Island [in The Big Chocolate Bar ] to embark on environmental studies would be challenge enough one would think. But the teachers decide to ban all junk food from the camp and then set about policing this ban!!!

And of course the kids set about ensuring that they have a steady supply of cordial, chips and sweets to maintain their junk food habits.

Despite many setbacks, often humorous, eventually the ban is lifted. This novel should find an eager readership amongst upper primary and lower secondary school readers because of its warmth, realism and humour. There appear to be a few loose ends which should have attracted editorial consideration, but they are minor and do not detract from the story.

FAMOUS FOR FIVE MINUTES (1992)

Kevin Steinberger (review date November 1992)

SOURCE: Steinberger, Kevin. Review of Famous for Five Minutes, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 7, no. 5 (November 1992): 33.

"Issue novels" too often have the appearance of artifice; the author seems to seize upon a pet or popular issue then devises a narrative to carry along the message. The message is brought home to the reader without any subtlety, resounding with didacticism. In this such novel [Famous for Five Minutes ] which apparently takes its title from Andy Warhol's cynical aphorism about modern culture, the issue is gender equity and equal opportunity.

A mixed group of Year Eight students in an innercity high school manipulate their gullible teachers into agreeing to a rock musical version of their set Romeo and Juliet performance. Their plans appear dashed when the school's Equal Opportunity policy compels them to have an equal number of places for girls in the band including the lead guitarist. The male instigator of the project devises a novel and daring way of taking the lead role he covets.

The concept of Equal Opportunity is laudable, however, here the author too often writes as a crusader rather than as a storyteller. The reader is constantly confronted with various manifestations of inequality and female disadvantage at school, at home, in the family, in adolescent culture, in sport and in society at large. Perceived physiological disadvantages are even mentioned.

This first-person narrative is written in the argot of adolescents. Much of it is superficial dialogue; rarely do the characters speak coherently. The narrative itself is written colloquially and uses invented spelling, e.g. "tryna" for "trying to", to achieve an appropriately authentic voice. The teenage audience will remember this novel not for its message but for the incredible plot and its forced humour.

PLASTIC CITY (1992)

Russ Merrin (review date March 1994)

SOURCE: Merrin, Russ. Review of Plastic City, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 9, no. 1 (March 1994): 31.

Do you sometimes feel that we are living in a plastic world? That credit cards, disposable food cartons and garish billboards all promote a junky lifestyle? That perhaps the whole world has begun to worship "kitsch"? This is what Sam Turner, the hero of Plastic City believes.

When Wallace Noble (future heir to the No Bull Burger fast food chain) befriends Sam, Sam is beguiled by the benefits of the friendship. At first, he forsakes his principles and his mates, but then later, as trashy plastic signs and advertisements spread across the city he loves, he becomes disgusted and frustrated with all the change taking place around him. He begins to understand the temptations of instant credit and he decides that something drastic must be done. The adults are well-meaning but ineffectual, so it is up to Sam and his friends to save their city.

Margaret Clark's characterisation is realistically and amusingly crafted. The characters are funny and actually quite unheroic. Craig Smith's inimitable illustrations, with their diverse personality types and range of facial expressions, are spread evenly throughout the book and provide the perfect foil for this amusing and highly readable story. With its short chapters and first person narrative, the story flows easily, entertainingly and well. It is witty and gently subversive and should be popular with most upper and middle level primary school children.

RIPPER AND FANG (1992)

Melanie Guile (review date March 1994)

SOURCE: Guile, Melanie. Review of Ripper and Fang, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 9, no. 1 (March 1994): 29.

[Ripper and Fang ] is another good read from the reliable Omnibus Dipper series. Dan lays careful plans to buy a dog without his parents' permission. Secretly, he collects the necessary equipment and takes himself off to the Lost Dogs' Home. His tough bikie neighbour is there with the same idea (he wants "a big, mean-looking dog with five notches in its tail"), but the very different dogs they choose turn out to be not what they seem.

Clark's well-shaped parallel plot has a neat, satisfying twist and her writing is lively and economical. Ann James' black and white illustrations add great character and energy to the story—especially the sequence showing the extraordinary array of dogs at the kennels, complete with witty speech bubbles. Newly independent readers will find all this irresistible.

HOLD MY HAND—OR ELSE! (1993)

Virginia Lowe (review date September 1993)

SOURCE: Lowe, Virginia. Review of Hold My Hand—Or Else!, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 8, no. 4 (September 1993): 32.

Margaret Clark always has at least one message in her easy-to-read, down-to-earth, young-adolescent-level stories, but it is never heavy handed. In this case [Hold My Hand—Or Else! ] it is the Year 7 romance, or hoped-for romance. Sam Studley ("Stud") and blue-eyed Belinda are the protagonists. The romance is complicated by Belinda's determination not to be a simple surfie chick, supplying the boys with lunch and admiration from the safety of the towels, but to become a surfer herself. The other complication is Stud's hormones—they're just not sufficiently developed yet for him to cope with holding hands, let alone anything else (as modelled by the very human teachers … Or so the kids all surmise!) Belinda is desperate to become an item with Stud. The satisfying conclusion is that Stud will be a good friend, and Belinda's surfing tutor as well.

GHOST ON TOAST (1994)

Nola Allen (review date March 1995)

SOURCE: Allen, Nola. Review of Ghost on Toast, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 10, no. 1 (March 1995): 24.

Moving into an old house in a small village with his frazzled mother and troublesome sister is difficult enough [in Ghost on Toast ], but a grumpy, burnt-toast-eating ghost presents many more problems. While the idea of a ghost in need of false teeth in order to eat burnt toast is quirky, this short novel for eight and nine-year-olds falters with an unappealing main character—an ungrateful and obnoxious ghost—and a contrived ending. May appeal to young ghost fans with a sense of humour

BACK ON TRACK: DIARY OF A STREET KID (1995)

Jenny Pausacker (review date September 1995)

SOURCE: Pausacker, Jenny. Review of Back on Track: Diary of a Street Kid, by Margaret Clark. Australian Book Review (September 1995): 62.

A lot has been written about issues in children's books, initially enthusiastic, increasingly critical—although I'm still not entirely sure what an issue is. Something that prompts feature articles in newspapers? Something bleak and depressing? At times the criticism of issue-driven fiction almost seems to represent a 'back to the fifties' nostalgia trip, where Father and Mother, John and Betty, Scotty and Fluff are taken as some kind of norm. Which is fine for anyone who grew up in a two parent, two child, dog and cat family but confusing for those of us who grew up in one of the many other arrangements.

Still, if we dodge round the loaded word 'issues', it's easy enough to agree that no one likes moralising and editorialising in fiction, whether it's about Enid Blyton happy families or the dysfunctional families in American problem novels….

[R]aw edges abound in Margaret Clark's Back on Track , the diary of fifteen-year-old street kid Simone. If ever there was such a thing as an issue-driven book,Back on Track is one—which is precisely its strength. After all, who hasn't wondered how kids end up living on the streets? And Margaret Clark knows: she works full time in an alcohol and drug centre and wrote Back on Track 'to reveal the plight of these young Australians and set the record straight'.

Clark lets Simone speak in her own voice, clipped, colloquial, factual rather than analytic. No morals or neat solution here—as Simone says at the end, 'You can take the girl outa the shit, but you can never take the shit outa the girl.' Instead,Back on Track races along under its own momentum, with all the relentless force of the underground kids' cult classic Go Ask Alice but without Alice's spurious side. When Simone's friend Rory dies on the beach of a coke and alcohol induced heart attack, we simply feel the waste: we don't hear an authorial voice saying, 'There, that's what happens if you're a naughty boy'.

Back on Track is not flawless. Oddly enough, Simone's descriptions of her various counselling sessions are fairly flat and I wished that Clark hadn't worked so hard to convince me that this really is a real diary. But essentially none of this detracts from the book's power and sincerity. I hope we're not going to see a reaction against issue-driven books (whatever issues are). I want to read more books like Back on Track .

HOT OR WHAT (1995)

Kate Veitch (review date July 1995)

SOURCE: Veitch, Kate. "The Burning Question of Identity." Australian Book Review (July 1995): 59.

Performance and costume, whether on a public stage or confined to a tight peer group, are dear to the hearts of adolescent girls: perfect avenues for expression of their developing individuality and sexuality. Props and stages, friendships swirled through with rivalry, scintillating but scary sexual stirrings: such is the territory covered in [this] rite-of-passage novel. These are the similarities, yet they are as different as their very different covers suggest.

Hot or What 's cover, devised by illustrator Terry Denton, is Mambo does Dolly magazine, featuring a spike-haired girl astride a red Harley up to its exhaust pipe in ocean wavelets. She gazes over her shoulder at us, sassy and confident, ignoring the dive-bombing canine cupids bearing plates laden with junk food. This book looks like fun; I can vouch for the fact that teenaged hands, male and female, instantly reach for it, and the title just cries out to be rolled off the tongue….

Back to costume and performance though, [Hot or What ] features a young fashion model on her first big gig, accompanied by fellow-models and minders,… [The central theme] is the burning question of identity: how an adolescent required to play a role can use that to explore and develop themselves, and how to resist the danger of being overwhelmed by surface attractions of glamour, prestige and good looks.

Lisa (re-named Rebel by the modelling agency) is the fifteen-year-old model whose smoulderingly hungry gaze is greeted by the photographer with gleeful cries of 'Wow babe, you're sizzling! Are you hot or what?' Little does he know that she's thinking lustful thoughts of 'Mum's flaky sausage rolls, her homemade lasagne oozing with killer-joule meat sauce, strawberry layer sponge'—all strictly taboo, of course, for the weight-obsessed young models and their minders. If you want to look at this snappy little novel in terms of the 'issues' it raises, then eating disorders—bulimia and yo-yo dieting—are right up there.

In the course of the photo shoots in Sydney, Ayers Rock and Surfers Paradise, Lisa encounters and learns to deal with envious fellow-models, reasonably serious harassment, a put-out boyfriend, a drug-induced emergency, homesickness and her family's protectiveness. The story rockets along at a rate of knots, and I enjoy very much that this hard-to-impress, feet-on-the-ground young heroine is pursuing a career which is aspired to by so many teenage girls. Let's face it, they don't all want to be lawyers and rocket scientists. Why shouldn't a fashion model be a role model too?

LOVE ON THE NET (1996)

Margaret Aitken (review date September 1996)

SOURCE: Aitken, Margaret. "Choices at Sixteen." Australian Book Review (September 1996): 59.

Love on the Net looks like a bright, breezy, teen romance and so it is. And with Margaret Clark as the author we also get humour, accurate demotic speech, and a non-judgmental picture of youthful foibles. Clark does make several departures from the stricter conventions of the genre: Clem (Clementine) bemoans her 'slightly chunky' figure and her too-hairy legs; and female friendship is central to the story with school friend Maddy as Clem's loyal confidante and advisor.

Clem's problem is how to keep her new romance with 'tall, dark, rich and handsome' Julian alive when his family moves to Barbados. (Yes, well, we've got to have some of the conventions.) The solution seems to be the Internet and e-mail—a mode of communication which brings its own problems. Clark makes the most of these to add humour and advance the plot. Computers to these young people are part of everyday life, tools for getting schoolwork done, with none of the sinister possibilities that have cropped up in novels since Rubinstein's chilling Space Demons a decade ago.

This isn't a book that sets out to probe the meaning of life. Family and work interactions are sketched in fairly strongly but it is a light romance and the major concern is Clem's love-life. Her sexual feelings and worries are realistically suggested.

It was a natural thing to do with the boy she loved, but what if she was hopeless at it? Had Julian done it before?…ifhe hadn't, would he know what to do?

The story seems to lose momentum when Clem visits Barbados. Maybe it's because the setting, which was conveyed earlier through a natural discussion over travel brochures, doesn't stand up to closer scrutiny. There are too many facts, and too many clichés (the sexy, dark, other woman; locals with 'white toothed grins', shops that are 'amazing', though their prices were exorbitant). Or maybe it's because Julian doesn't hold up too well under scrutiny—his concern for his dog back in Australia is more convincing than his concern for Clem. However, the story ends, as a romance should, with a kiss, Clark having cleverly and amusingly made sure that any closer physical encounter has to be postponed.

PULLING THE MOVES (1996)

John Murray (review date September 1996)

SOURCE: Murray, John. Review of Pulling the Moves, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 11, no. 4 (September 1996): 36-7.

[Pulling the Moves ] is the third book in Margaret Clark's series on the Studleys. Margaret Clark's rushing narrative, with its breathlessly short sentences, up-to-the-minute teenage slang, exaggeration, coarse language, stereotypical goodies and baddies, apparently foolish adults, and loud humour, will no doubt appeal to some readers aged about ten to fifteen. Another source of appeal will be the first person narration focalised through the likeable Sam and his clever, pretty sister—a set of stereotypes to make strong reader identification easy. The book is a saleable product because it provides entertainment made up of suspense, broad verbal jokes, pop psychology, and a collection of approved ingredients (blended family, Aboriginal character, helping street kids—well, the attractive female ones from a multicultural background, anyway). Proponents of this kind of writing may argue that at least youngsters are reading it, especially youngsters who would not normally pick up a book. At the same time, I feel, the book purveys a disquieting set of mixed messages. Mrs Studley (now Mrs Ransome) presents a version of family stability but only after she has been made to seem foolish earlier in the novel. Police are concerned about a range of issues but overlook speeding and failure to wear a seat belt when the driver is a good footballer and mechanic and the passenger shows her legs. Sexual relations are not for fifteen-year-old Leanne and her friend Danny, but seem acceptable in less attractive others of the same age (so long as the boys wear a condom and do not brag about their conquests); maniacal driving and being shot at are harmless. Knowing descriptions of the slang names, effects, and purchase of drugs appear along with a statement from Cola that she doesn't use them any more. What is a young reader to make of such messages?

I know the book is not meant to be taken seriously, but I think its mixture of messages should be. It seems to me that Pulling the Moves tries to have its moral cake and eat it, milking the illicit and unwise for sensation while also pressing a facile set of conservative values through its most attractive characters. Others may feel that my response is priggish and ignores the reality of life in the late 90s. Perhaps the fairest way to form an opinion is to read the novel while keeping in mind Richard Rorty's question about literature, What purpose does this book serve? and to go on to debate that question in classrooms, journals, and with the many people interested in literature for children and adolescents. It is, after all, only one of many similar recent novels for adolescents.

CARE FACTOR ZERO (1997)

Publishers Weekly (review date 6 March 2000)

SOURCE: Review of Care Factor Zero, by Margaret Clark. Publishers Weekly 247, no. 10 (6 March 2000): 111.

Stilted dialogue and disconnected plotting lessen the impact of Australian writer Clark's novel [Care Factor Zero ] about a teenage runaway. Larceny Leyton hears voices that tell her to hurt people, and she attacks a man during one of these episodes. Thinking she's killed him, she flees for Melbourne, where she encounters a variety of people she's willing to use for a hot meal or a shower. Finally, near the end of the novel, Larceny forms a bond with a saintly social worker named Kaz, who ignites in the protagonist the will to start putting her life together. Unfortunately, most of the dialogue feels clichéd ("Where are you from?" asks Bex, another homeless teen; "Everywhere and nowhere," answers Larceny), though Clark develops some intriguing characters, such as Lynx, a mixed-raced orphan adopted by a rich white family, who feels alienated from his true identity and takes to the streets. Readers may be bothered by the sudden disappearance of Larceny's voices, and the plot takes such strange turns (e.g., a scene in which Larceny has tea with an eccentric man who tells her that he is Jesus Christ) that the twists detract from the main thrust of the novel. Graphic descriptions and the sophisticated subject matter make this best suited for teenagers.

Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (review date April 2000)

SOURCE: Review of Care Factor Zero, by Margaret Clark. Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books 53, no. 8 (April 2000): 274.

Fifteen-year-old Larceny Leyton's led a hard life [in Care Factor Zero ], moving from foster home to foster home after her father's abandonment and her mother's suicide, but she might have gotten into more than even she can handle after she believes she's killed the fence to whom she sells her shoplifted goods. On the run, she encounters other down-and-out teens, a few people who try to help her, and a man whose offer of assistance is really his prelude to finding a use for her in his pornography and prostitution businesses; her biggest obstacle, however, is the uncontrollable rage that makes her lash out in violence. There's a slick simplification in this Australian import that may be appealing in its similarity to some comic-book narratives, but there are comics that deal better with the street-kid subject. The portrayal of Larceny is oddly romanticized and she's described in clichés (she's "very beautiful in a wild, untamed sort of way" with "her hips swinging suggestively in her tight 501s"), and the rest of the writing is similarly corny ("But though she ran and ran till her lungs felt as if they would burst, she couldn't run away from the one thing that terrified her the most: herself"). The plotting is random, Larceny's sudden bonding with a new-agey social worker who spouts John Bradshaw is unlikely, and the ending that leaves her in the clutches of the porn merchant but hopeful about escape is both logically and dramatically unsatisfying. Even readers who can't get enough of Shelley Stoehr's melodramas of slumming are going to wonder what to make of this.

HOT STUFF (1998)

Cynthia Anthony (review date May 1998)

SOURCE: Anthony, Cynthia. Review of Hot Stuff, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 13, no. 2 (May 1998): 29.

Harry's parents sell their car and acquire a van from which they plan to sell hot doughnuts at the beach [in Hot Stuff ]. Hot Stuff, as it is named, is parked on the cliff top. Business is so brisk that finally Mum, Dad, Harry and Megan need a rest by lunchtime. The van is locked up while they head for the beach. A very big BANG shocks them. The exploding van shoots doughnuts through the air, everywhere—into open mouths, onto a bald head, threading the tail of a black dog, onto the fin of a surfboard out at sea, and so on. It is a disaster with comic relief. The police, fire brigade and TV crew turn up. Probably an exploding gas bottle caused the destruction of the van. However the downside enables Dad to make doughnuts for Pete Food Stores quite successfully until boredom sets in. Enter another van, Noodles on the Move. Wow! said Harry. I love noodles. The storyline observed is simple. It is the effect of the cannon-ball doughnuts landing as they do that will ensure chuckles from young readers, as well as the humorous twist at the conclusion.

NO FAT CHICKS (1998)

Barry Carozzi (review date August 1998)

SOURCE: Carozzi, Barry. "Heroines in Good Shape." Australian Book Review (August 1998): 45.

Margaret Clark's No Fat Chicks is ambitious, serious in its aims. Mandy is fifteen and overweight. She comes from a blended family. She has two older step-brothers—Bennet and Marketton (Mark for short). She also has a younger sister, Babeth. Bennet is at Uni; he's a soft, gentle boy. Mandy loves him for his kindness, but he is—in the end—totally ineffectual; he drifts in and out of the action, being nice, but changing nothing. Mark, on the other hand, is a constant source of nastiness. He is pretty much the stereotypical, loud-mouthed, self centred male hood, insensitive, even cruel to Mandy. Babeth is six, nearly seven, and beautiful, so beautiful that her life is a constant round of Beauty Contests.

In Clark's world there are no heroes and villains, no black and white, no simple answers; nothing clear cut. When the boys at school start putting NO FAT CHICKS stickers on their cars and their school bags, the girls—especially those who are size 14 or more—decide to take action. Clark's judgment is acute. She knows—and the girls know—that the well-meaning protests and directives of the school principal ('We will not have racist, religious, sexist or any other kind of prejudices in this school … Body shape is not to be denigrated.') will only make matters worse. The girls discuss how they might effectively respond—they devise their own slogans, and debate their relative merits: Clever Is Cool, Large and Proud of It, Crack onto Fat. No Small Dicks receives a standing ovation.

The novel's subplot—Babeth's involvement in Beauty contests for very young children—is, in essence, a variation upon the novel's central theme. No Fat Chicks is a good read. It's not one of those social problem novels that preaches its message. It's a novel packed with strongly realised characters, real characters rather than cartoon caricatures, who grow and change and are perplexed. But for me, the ending is a little too easy. For me, the 'soft' ending detracts a little from an otherwise hard hitting, honest and engaging novel.

KISS AND MAKE UP (1999)

Cecile Grumelart (review date September 1999)

SOURCE: Grumelart, Cecile. Review of Kiss and Make Up, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 14, no. 4 (September 1999): 37.

Victorian author Margaret Clark is back with the third installment in the life of Lisa Trelaw—fifteen-year-old aspiring super-model. Kiss and Make Up catches Lisa just as she returns home from a modelling stint in Sydney. As soon as she gets back to her home in the seaside town of Torquay she wishes she could get out. Her mum runs 'The Dog Squad', a take-away food van and expects Lisa to spend her free time helping serve all the starving surfers who visit the van. Lisa's brother is too busy in the water to help out and if that wasn't bad enough she's not sure what's going on with her boyfriend Mike: Nick's ripped off to go surfing, Mike's off at Johanna possibly getting off with some chick called Johanna, like, who would know, and I'm stuck in this greasy hot tub of a van with mum!

Then suddenly she's off to Sydney again for what seems like the break of a lifetime and Mike too, has been lured to the NSW capital to do some surfing stunts in a TV commercial. It looks as if everything is falling into place for Lisa but she's soon to find out that nothing is ever as clear cut as it first appears to be.

This novel offers a sensitive insight into the world of teen modelling and highlights some of the key issues that these young girls have to face when preparing for the life of show biz. It also illustrates well the hassles of teen relationships.

The only criticism that can be made about this novel is some of the language usage. It's true that Australian kids are following American leads more and more but Lisa's use of the word 'like' in almost every second sentence quickly becomes very grating. The characters and places in this novel are very likable and also realistic, but just how many young girls speak like Lisa Trelaw is debatable.

Nevertheless,Kiss and Make Up is still a fine novel that is essentially just a quirky tale about a young girl trying to decide what's right for her.

Readers in years eight to ten will find this book most enjoyable, especially those who have met Lisa before in Fat Chance , or Hot or What .

NO STANDING ZONE (1999)

Jo Goodman (review date September 1999)

SOURCE: Goodman, Jo. Review of No Standing Zone, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 14, no. 4 (September 1999): 36-7.

[No Standing Zone ] is the third of Clark's hard-hitting young adult novels informed by her own work with troubled adolescents. Link and his sister have trouble adjusting to their new life after dad reveals he has another family in New Zealand and leaves to join them, the big house is sold and they move to a smaller one in a less salubrious suburb. Link finds himself depending on his private school for a feeling of comfort and normality, despite the long train journey now required. Then dad will no longer pay the fees, and Link and Claire have to attend the local school along with the tough kids they find so frightening on the train.

The strength of the novel lies in the portrait of Link; it is only to easy to believe in his need for acceptance and the ways in which this leads to increasingly risky behaviours: I don't know where I belong any more, I just want to lean up against the No Standing Zone at the bottom of the street and never, ever move. Link, cut off from his former friends, unable to play cricket, and disgusted with his mum's new lover, finds it hard to resist the acceptance offered by his new acquaintances. Although the plot is not free from implausibility—and a touch of melodrama—Link is such a convincing character that these weaknesses are relatively unimportant.

Robyn Sheahan-Bright (review date December 1999-January 2000)

SOURCE: Sheahan-Bright, Robyn. "Thiele's Dual Message." Australian Book Review (December 1999-January 2000): 42.

Clark's book,No Standing Zone , deals with a kid in a modern family situation—marriage break-down, moving house and the related stresses of money worries, adjusting to a new school, new friends, and new enemies! Link Jamieson and his sister Claire are saddled with it all. And to add to his worries, Link hears his dad's words swirling in his head: 'The kid's bad through and through'. These words would haunt anyone, but when it's your dad who's said them, they assume extra-awful proportions. 'Dad, Mad, Bad—Sad and I'm Glad'—the title of the opening chapter—is a fair indication of how Clark deals with traumatic subject material, using flippancy to convey how kids deal with angst. Link is worried, sure, but he's also fed up with the adults and their histrionics. It all seems a bit like they're actors on a stage, performing a play which he has grown tired of watching. How to deal with all this?

The house is sold and the family move to working class Westlands. Mum moves the aerobics instructor in with them a week after she meets him; the kids have to leave their private school; wealthy grandad not only refuses to bail them out, but conveniently goes overseas for two months leaving them without extra funds. Link is even more troubled when after a short period living in Westlands he finds that his feelings for his old mate Johnny are not the same. Suddenly, Johnny's sexual obsessions and his easy access to money seem a bit trite when compared to the rough lives lived by some of the kids at his new school. Link holds up a store and accidentally shoots a man. He is set up for other crimes by a guy who's 'taken the rap' for the robbery. And when he's pricked by a loose syringe, the doctor casually doles out drugs, syringes and condoms presuming that he's an addict in need of safe supplies!

The metaphor of Link being stranded in this alien place ('I don't know where I belong any more. I just want to lean up against the No Standing Zone sign at the bottom of this street and never, ever move.') is strong, though, and Clark has made out of the idea of 'the fortunate son' a neat ending. When Link first learns that his dad had another family in NZ and a four year old son named Ben, he feels the 'other son' to be the fortunate one. But by the end he's gotten on top of his problems. He's been through the mill, and feels that to have survived these challenges he's truly fortunate himself.

Clark's great strength is her vibrant, adept use of language which here is typically inventive and moves the plot forward at a rattling and suspenseful pace. For example, the English lesson is an hilarious translation of the inadequacy of traditional teaching methods to 'contain' the colloquialisms used in young people's general conversation. Unfortunately the strength of the idea, and the vitality of the language was (I felt) threatened by the weight of a catalogue of incidents which stretch the bounds of credibility a little too far. Nevertheless, I'd like to think the book will do what Margaret Clark has tried to do; to help kids see that self-reliance is the only answer, in the face of a world which is fundamentally an unfair place.

THE SEARCH: COOLINI BEACH (1999)

Robyn Sheahan-Bright (review date February-March 2000)

SOURCE: Sheahan-Bright, Robyn. "Irreverence for Sacred Cows." Australian Book Review (February-March 2000): 53-4.

In Margaret Clark's The Search a group of kids meet via their holiday jobs at the beachside Kayah Café. Flick is fleeing from the city and her double-crossing boyfriend, Todd. Liz is shy and skinny, the perfect butt for jokes by boofhead surfers like the gorgeous Nathan and sleazy Rob. She's mad about Josh, who turns up with the luscious Jessica in tow. Kay runs the café and her sexy daughter Roxie lends a hand. When Angela and Braden arrive too, you can practically feel the UST shimmering off the benches! In this teenage Battle of the Sexes, Flick observes the games people play and decides to test her own capacities for enticing the opposite sex. Nathan is looking forward to 'doing' Roxie again and to trying his luck with the brashly attired Angela, but he's thrown into a spin when Flick starts batting her eyelashes at him, too! The title equates the endless search for waves with that for love. The action is resolved with a few cards in the deck having been shuffled, but with everyone still in a state of emotional flux. Liz realises that being friends can be more satisfactory than being lovers, after all. These ingredients are all mixed (in Clark's 'hardly has a minute to draw breathless' style) with racy language, a table-spoon of teenage angst, and seasoned with a liberal dash of mischievous good humour.

Sally Harding (review date March 2000)

SOURCE: Harding, Sally. Review of The Search: Coolini Beach, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 15, no. 1 (March 2000): 37.

Margaret Clark is adept at targeting all age groups and reading levels. From the odd Aussie Bites through her own junior series Mango Street to the older Hot or What and Pulling the Moves , she writes with warmth and humour and an acute awareness of the interests of each audience. The blacker Back on Track and Care Factor Zero sprang from first-hand experience in youth care and drug rehabilitation. At whom then is her new Coolini Beach series aimed? I'd say the Dolly market.

Set somewhere between Lorne and Apollo Bay on Victoria's south-west coast,The Search is an easy read that revolves around the young staff at a busy surf beach café. In between serving bus-loads of tourists and holiday campers, Flick, Liz, Roxie and Angela each speculate on the charms (or lack of them) of the local surfies. The objects of their affections are more concerned with 'the search'—for the perfect wave—and don't care how far they travel to find it, except for Nathan, a big-head who fancies himself with the 'chicks'. The Search is not all love, heartbreak and surfing however. Rob, the dunny cleaner at the caravan park and a pot-bellied lech, is thrown in for laughs, and the hard work of catering to a hungry crowd and handling tricky customers is vividly described. A little slice of Australian life to go.

SECRET GIRLS' STUFF (1999)

Lynne Babbage (review date November 1999)

SOURCE: Babbage, Lynne. Review of Secret Girls' Stuff, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 14, no. 5 (November 1999): 41-2.

In response to John Marsden's Secret Men's Business, Margaret Clark has produced Secret Girls' Stuff . Her credentials are reasonable impressive because for many years, Margaret worked in a drug and alcohol centre helping many teenagers with problems of various kinds—not just drugs. And, as one of Australia's most popular novelists, she also receives letters and emails from her readers sharing many of their confusions and worries and asking for advice. Margaret uses examples from this correspondence, albeit with names and personal details changed, throughout the book but also intersperses the text with extracts from the diaries she kept when she was fourteen, fifteen and sixteen. Although she grew up in the era of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and rock'n'roll, Margaret feels that the issues involved in growing up haven't changed all that much, especially when it comes to feelings.

The book is written in a conversational, chatty style which does not adopt a preachy or didactic tone. The feel is that this is not a grown-up trying to tell teenagers what to do or how to behave. Rather it comes across as a sympathetic ear prepared to take teenage concerns seriously and offer choices and options for the reader to consider.

The cover is attractive, taking the form of a spiral-bound diary or notebook with labels and snapshots and a 'Keep Out!' warning. However internally the book is not as alluring, with no illustrations and a standard layout. There is not attempt to even vary the design to make it interesting but, knowing the author's popularity with younger teens, this will probably not be a deterrent. It will be interesting to see whether the readers think her diary entries are relevant to them or perhaps a bit dated.

BAD GIRL (2000)

Robyn Sheahan-Bright (review date October 2000)

SOURCE: Sheahan-Bright, Robyn. "Bad Girls." Australian Book Review (October 2000): 56-7.

Bad Girl is a novel which, hasn't quite decided what it is. Unlike Clark's Care Factor Zero which is a searingly realistic YA fiction, this has a racy plot akin to that found in TV serials like Party of Five, which also grapples with the issue of self-esteem with an obvious intention to instruct. But it's in maintaining a balance between 'serious' novel and action adventure that Bad Girl seems to lose its 'grip on the tightrope' at certain points.

Ruth is overwhelmed by overly religious parents and two perfect siblings. She's the classic middle child, who feels unbeautiful, talentless, and unattractive in personality. When she's involved in a catastrophic train crash (expertly described by Clark), she narrowly escapes with her life. As she lies dazed by the wreckage, she meets 'Simon' who's about to 'disappear'—the crash has given him the perfect opportunity to forget his old life and start again. The plot here becomes an odd combination of the 'crisis precipitating a life choice' YA fiction; and an actionpacked road movie in which Ruth (who renames herself Sinamon), indulges in all the things parents don't want to happen to their kids! As a work of escapism it should work brilliantly; it's even complete with the obligatory makeover—ugly duckling becomes beautiful swan in one quick trip to the beauty salon. But whereas in a movie you might reconcile the action with the denouement, (by a manipulation of soundtrack, for example), in a book, where Sinamon's resolutions to 'believe in herself' are spelled out in words, the previous events are too flippantly described to really support her declaration meaningfully. Despite the cover blurb's promise that this will offer a solution to a teenager's search for identity, its strengths really lie in the light-hearted aspects of its plot.

Sally Harding (review date November 2000)

SOURCE: Harding, Sally. Review of Bad Girl, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 15, no. 5 (November 2000): 38.

Bad Girl , written with a graphic brevity as befits a parable, is about a modern Prodigal Daughter. Fifteen-year-old Ruth McGurk is convinced she is guilty of all the Seven Deadly Sins her minister father preaches about. Unable to live up to the rest of her family's sunny selflessness or compete with the 'in' group at school, she suffers severely from low self-esteem. A terrible train crash gives her a chance to escape the life in which she feels such a misfit. She makes a sudden decision to go 'missing presumed dead' and vacates the scene of carnage. There is someone with more pressing reasons to pull the same trick, Jason Brereton, a shady character who unwillingly lets Ruth tag along, although it is she who shows presence of mind in covering their tracks. Ruth becomes Sinamon (well, I suppose it is better than Ruth McGurk) and is plunged briefly into a life that lays before her all the envy, gluttony, lust, avarice, sloth, wrath and pride she had only really dreamed about before. Seeing her youthful innocence as a bonus, Jason and his partners in crime use her as a drug courier to the Philippines and expose her briefly to the life of drugs and casual sex they take for granted. As if this wasn't story enough, Margaret Clark has Ruth/Sinamon discover her 'real' mother, a selfish loser who gave her up for adoption fifteen years ago without a second thought. All this is a steep learning curve for Ruth/Sinamon, who fortunately comes to her senses just in time to escape back to a home and family she realises is truly hers. Having squandered her innocence on the fleshpots and learned her lesson, Ruth now knows what real sins are, knows to be wary of them and no longer suffers guilt for imaginary ones.

Bad Girl was no doubt written to reassure mid-teens who have lived on the wild side—drugs, street life, promiscuity—that there is life after this, that guilt should not be a burden that stops you from starting life afresh. It will be good if it succeeds but I have a feeling it will be read more for mildly vicarious thrills by 'good' girls (and boys) normally reluctant to pick up a book. May it prove enlightening.

COOL BANANAS: COOLINI BEACH (2000)

Pam Macintyre (review date August 2000)

SOURCE: Macintyre, Pam. "Chick Flick." Australian Book Review (August 2000): 59.

Clark's story [Cool Bananas ] is set not in tropical Queensland as the title might suggest but on Victoria's West Coast somewhere past Apollo Bay at a small seaside town whose population swells during the summer season. Eighteen-year-old Flick and Liz, fifteen, work at the local general store and Kayah café at Coolini Beach, the central hub of the town. In addition to the campers and holiday makers, they cater for tourists who are bussed down to the Great Ocean Road to see the sights, one of which is the koalas near by. The narrative centres on the daily operations of the café enlivened by: a bit of underhand commercial competition for the Kayah café from a hot food van, and the girls' payback; an arm washed up on the beach; a threat of bushfire—never realised; a randy surfer who is servicing two of the local girls one of whom is extraordinarily predatory; a thick shake competition; and a thread to do with staying loyal even though being tempted by hot males when your boyfriend is away, which, for Flick, involves a kiss from Kiev Beauman, a famous American television star who happens to be on one of the bus tours to see the koalas (yes, you will need to suspend disbelief).

The story is full of lively detail of working at a beach resort during a hot summer—beautiful young bodies, cool water, the routine and rush of food preparation to order, the wrangle of relationships between people who work and live closely together, gossip, and colourful characters all told largely through dialogue and in the argot of the adolescent whose cadences Clark captures exactly….

Liz and Flick accept that relating surfing heroics is more immediately important to their boyfriends than being reunited with their girlfriends. 'Liz shrugged. It was a boy thing.' The books are unashamed soap opera: 'He bent his head and their lips welded together in a passionate kiss. What was real and what wasn't? Had Kiev been trying his acting charms on her? And why was she even thinking about him when Tim was coming home?' Undemanding, entertaining and drawing on familiar popular culture motifs.

FOOTY SHORTS (2000)

Stella Lees (review date April 2000)

SOURCE: Lees, Stella. "Tongue-in-Cheek." Australian Book Review (April 2000): 58.

Margaret Clark's Footy Shorts is for an older market—say, twelve or thirteen. This is about the age when one could hope that contemporary readers might move on to Phillip Pullman's Northern Lights. But it's not that easy, and Footy Shorts is intended to snare the reluctant reader with a short attention span by using a popular subject.

Lenny Lewis comes from one of those objectionable families who barrack and scream at their kids around the sports field, train them to within an inch of their lives and expect with certainty that male offspring will become footy legends, like Dad, Grandad, Great-Grandad were. Although Mum can kick better than Plugger, and does a little training on the side, it turns out that her primary function is to provide nourishing stews and hang out the washing while Dad watches the footy replays. Not that Lenny sees any faults in that. He has moments when he would prefer some privacy but is quite happy to accept everyone's attention and exploit him or her to his requirements. Surprisingly in such a football-mad family, he seems to be the only one who realises that he is not very good at the game. He hatches a cunning plan, and diverts attention to Calvin, an Aboriginal boy with greater natural talent, and Lenny is left to pursue his own dream, which is to become a football commentator.

Clark has Aussie Rules footy-speak off pat, and the topic has a guaranteed audience just as the AFL season gets under way. The novel rolls along speedily, with no introspection to speak of and a group of characters with very little but footy between their ears.

Clark adopts the current aggravating fashion of using the first person singular voice in Footy Shorts , presenting the reader with Lenny's perspective only. The result narrows the reading experience. The more interesting character of Jenny, Lenny's twin, is unexplored. She is better at sport, and jealousy is hinted at, but we're stuck with Lenny. Also unexamined is the relationship between Calvin and his working mother. Lenny tells us that everything is wonderful when Calvin is left in Melbourne with the deranged Lewises while his mother returns to the north. It's all very neat and ordered, quite silly and unlikely, with no nuances or depth, and everything tied up securely while the rest of the world, which hardly exists anyway, can go hang. Footy Shorts is a potboiler from an author who has done better:Living with Leanne and Hold My Hand—Or Else! for instance.

RAVE ON (2001)

Fran Knight (review date July 2001)

SOURCE: Knight, Fran. Review of Rave On, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 16, no. 3 (July 2001): 38.

Four quite different groups of people are on their way to a warehouse where a Rave is about to start [in Rave On ]. Cassie and Sharon are there to sell their eccys to make money; Todd, a shy country lad, has tagged along with the strange Nick; Millie and Kate have been taken by Millie's older brother, intent on getting closer to Kate, and Vicky and Becky have talked their way there with an older sister, Sue. Each is there to have fun and, as taking some sort of drug is part of this scene for many, they are as eager to try as Cassie and Sharon are to sell. Four of the girls are under age and as the night progresses, the drugs take effect. Margaret Clark writes from a background of having worked in a drug centre. Her setting is real and all encompassing as the protagonists take their various steps into an area of obvious danger. The result for each pair is quite different and will prove to be a salutary dose of reality for the readers.

As the story progressed I had difficulty following the large number of protagonists and working out the background of each—there seemed to be too many to see them as clear and separate people. For me, the didactic message of the book was too unsubtle to maintain credibility, but I'm sure readers of thirteen to fifteen will lap up the story, and read it with the same enthusiasm displayed when reading Clark's many other books.

A WEE WALK (2001)

Neville Barnard (review date September 2001)

SOURCE: Barnard, Neville. Review of A Wee Walk, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 16, no. 4 (September 2001): 33.

Every dog owner knows that dogs like to explore the smells left behind by other dogs and leave a few liquid aromas of their own. Margaret Clark has turned this annoying habit into an entertaining story centering on Jock, a Scottish terrier, and Old Mac, his owner. Their life is ritualised and simple—a daily saunter to the shops where Old Mac picks up his essentials. Jock picks up his wee mails along the way. It really is a dog's life—and Jock loves it! But then Old Mac is taken to hospital and in his absence Jock is cared for by Morag who doesn't have time to waste and certainly no time to allow Jock to smell the … roses. A Wee Walk is written in brief chapters, incorporates a large clear font, has generous amounts of white space and features extensive artwork by Craig Smith. It is clearly aimed at the developing reader in the mid-primary years. It is an uncomplicated tale told simply and in a manner that the target audience will relate to.

However at the risk of being unduly critical AWee Walk borders on blandness. The concept of telling a story largely through the urine of dogs is undeniably creative, perhaps even unique. However, it isn't strong enough to be the main focus of a book and wears off surprisingly quickly. While the relationship between Jock and Old Mac is sensitively and skillfully portrayed it lacks something in entertainment value. I suspect that many of the readers who start this story may not finish it. However, the multitude of Margaret Clark fans out there may disagree.

GALUMPHER (2002)

Virginia Lowe (review date July 2002)

SOURCE: Lowe, Virginia. Review of Galumpher, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 17, no. 3 (July 2002): 28.

Difficult dogs as pets seems to be quite a theme in picture books at the moment and the dog in Galumpher is no exception seemingly without redeeming features, except his name. Only Alice seems to really want him, and in view of how many unwanted and mistreated dogs there are in the world, his future with Alice's unimpressed parents does not look bright.

As one expects of Margaret Clark, the text is amusing and convincing. The wordplay as the family investigate options for his name works well, and might even persuade some kids to think about the words themselves and how they are made up. Löbbecke's illustrations, though cartoonish, are brilliant and lifelike in the expressions of horror and surprise on each face. Even when they agree to keep Galumpher, Mum and Dad's faces aren't all happiness, or even indulgence. But the big, mad, drooling, smelly dog is theirs anyway. I would have liked a little more consistency in the pictures. I checked back to find the picnic that Galumpher had clearly bounded through, but it wasn't there. Also you expect all three children to be in most of the generous, brightly coloured openings, as they have all expressed a desire for a dog, but they are seldom illustrated all together. This is a large book, brilliantly coloured and funny, but I'm not really sure who it will appeal to. I urge dogreaders (and dog-lovers) not to attempt it, but lovers of Margaret Clark and Eric Löbbecke will probably revel in it anyway.

NIGHT WORKS (2002)

Jane Connolly (review date July 2002)

SOURCE: Connolly, Jane. Review of Night Works, by Margaret Clark. Magpies 17, no. 3 (July 2002): 39-40.

What is it about diaries? Soph wonders as she begins hers [in Night Works ]. For many nights between April and July, she pours out concerns about fathers, families, boys and her friends, Mel and Kate. The story captures the intensities of fifteen-year-old girls' friendships in which the sharing of hopes, clothes and confidences is the stuff of life! What is it about diaries and the use of the diary device in writing for adolescents? On one hand an invitation is extended to the reader to also become a confidante and characters and plot are quickly established. In this case the diary device also allows the reader to be a voyeur—a hidden observer of the messy lives of the young protagonists.

The blurb is almost instructive in the therapeutic qualities of diary writing You can tell a diary private things, secret stuff that no-one else knows and Soph does just that! The title begins to take on many meanings. Soph's mother works at night, Soph's father searches porn sites at night, Soph writes in her diary at night and it's at night that her friend engages in sexual activity. From the outset it is apparent that this story is a cautionary tale, one in which there are no redemptive male characters. All (bar the lately arrived Matt Tyler) are sorry individuals obsessed by sex.

The story is presented almost as an equation. Loss of virginity + abandonment by rotten boyfriend = loss of self-respect which leads to promiscuous behaviour. Promiscuous behaviour leads to gang rape + pregnancy + abortion dilemmas and then … there's the other friend! Soph's diary tells it all. Readers will need to suspend belief in order to accept the tumultuous series of events that touch the lives of these three girls in the space of a few short months. What is it about diaries? The diary format does not allow any other view but that of the diarist. As a result, in this case, the overdose of very serious issues is treated very shallowly. Descriptions of everyday activities or of very traumatic events each conclude in the same way—with the cheery, vacuous Cya tomorrow. Nothing is satisfactorily resolved and if the diarist is to be believed trauma is easily overcome so that life goes on as before. Such a message irresponsibly dismisses as inconsequential the seriousness of the issues raised.

FURTHER READING

Criticism

Hanson, Jocelyn. Review of Butterfingers and Weird Warren, by Margaret Clark. School Librarian 43, no. 2 (May 1995): 62.

Compliments Butterfingers and Weird Warren for their "lively and amusing" narratives.

Isaac, Megan. Review of Care Factor Zero, by Margaret Clark. Voice of Youth Advocates 23, no. 1 (April 2001):33.

Praises the universal themes for teenagers in Care Factor Zero but notes that the book's heavy Australian slang may discourage some American readers.

Additional coverage of Clark's life and career is contained in the following sources published by the Gale Group: Contemporary Authors, Vol. 196;Literature Resource Center; and Something about the Author, Vol. 126 .