Browsing Category : Author

Father’s Day


I have been thinking about the fathers in my family, and about my own father. Prompted by my thoughts, I have taken a box of papers from a cupboard and pulled out a peculiar manuscript I haven’t thought about for years. The disorganised contents of this box have been mine for several decades and I do not remember exactly how…

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Where are you from and how has it shaped you?


Where are you from and what do you know? After the Blue Mountains launch of my memoir, The Erratics, a lady stood in line to buy a book and asked me this: do you feel your mother gave you anything? I answered without thinking, one word: no. But as I opened the book to sign it, I reconsidered. My mother’s…

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The Erratics

The Erratic Parent


I think my mother was right when she proclaimed that my sister and I ruined her life. Had she remained childless, responsible for nothing beyond her role as the beautiful wife my father admired and adored, whose every whim he satisfied, she might have lived out her days as an extravagant drama queen, brilliantly articulate, the life of the party…

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Is forgiveness really divine?


Vicki Laveau-Harvie was asked at her book launch if she had forgiven her mother, the answer might surprise you Memoir and Forgiveness At the launch of The Erratics, Caroline Baum, who was interviewing me, asked a perceptive question. She asked me if ‘forgiveness’ was a word I would use when referring to my present view of my relationship with my…

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The Erratics Book

Launching The Erratics, by Vicki Laveau-Harvie


I love the idea of launching a book – not in the sense of hurling it forward with a view to annihilating something or somebody, but in the gentler sense of setting it afloat. I think of the Grand Bassin pond in Luxembourg Gardens in Paris where I sometimes took my children to play several decades ago. It was reserved…

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Vicki Laveau-Harvie on writing The Erratics


I often walk at dusk in the quiet suburb where I live. The streets are empty and lights are coming on in the houses I pass. I don’t peer but I catch glimpses of the lived reality of other people: a fatigued parent negotiating with a teenager, a dog wanting a walk, children hypnotised by the screens they stare at.…

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