Illustrator and author Kimberly Andrews' photo with a collage of book covers behind her photo.
Kimberly Andrews is author of Giraffe the Gardener, and many other picture books. Image: Tina Tiller.

BooksApril 9, 2025

Words to live by: Kimberly Andrews’ books confessional

Illustrator and author Kimberly Andrews' photo with a collage of book covers behind her photo.
Kimberly Andrews is author of Giraffe the Gardener, and many other picture books. Image: Tina Tiller.

Welcome to The Spinoff Books Confessional, in which we get to know the reading habits of Aotearoa writers, and guests. This week: Kimberly Andrews, author of new picture book Giraffe the Gardener.

The book I wish I’d written

The Skull is Jon Klassen’s wonderfully noir adaptation of a traditional Tyrolean folktale. I not only wish I had written this book, but also illustrated it and designed it. The writing is characteristically Klassen – sparse, funny and alluring. The illustrations are atmospheric and dark. The paper and cover are matte, and the shape of the book hints at a real chapter book, but can actually be devoured in 10 minutes.

The first line is so good. Jon begins the tale: “One night, in the middle of the night, while everyone else was asleep, Otilla finally ran away.” By using the word “finally”, we are immediately thrown into Otilla’s journey. 

Having test-read it, I approached the first bedtime reading with trepidation. I made sure my reading voice was cheerful and upbeat, especially as the terrifying headless skeleton is demanding “Give me that SKULL, I WANT THAT SKULL.”

But, as is usual for a Klassen book, it was a hit. Both girls now insist on me using my spooky kingly voice, and The Skull has been a bedtime favourite ever since. 

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor

Everyone should read

I have read most of computer scientist Cal Newport’s books, and Slow Productivity is my favourite. The three principles of this book are simple and concise:

1. Do fewer things
2. Work at a natural pace
3. Obsess over quality

Since reading this book and sitting with Cal’s ideas for a few years, I have a much “slower”, sustainable and less stressful life. I continue to reference this book regularly, and am constantly recommending it. 

I also think that everyone should read The Rights of the Reader by Daniel Pennac, illustrated by Quentin Blake. This is a short and beautiful book, full of gems of wisdom. He so beautifully captures the intimacy of reading to our children at the end of the day and the importance of the bedtime story. He also writes about the immense loss of being read to, simply because a school-age child learns to read themselves. In the latter part he lists 10 rights of the reader:

1. The right not to read
2. The right to skip
3. The right to not finish a book
4. The right to read it again
5. The right to read anything
6. The right to mistake a book for real life
7. The right to read anywhere
8. The right to dip in
9, The right to read out loud
10. The right to be quiet

I snapped up a copy that was “set free” from Hutt City Libraries and know that I will be reading this one again and again.

The book I want to be buried with

Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake. I have a growing fascination with fungi and am particularly interested in how they may shape our future – from building mycelium-based furniture and houses, to food creation, and breaking down toxic substances.

I have only read half of this book, but for one reason or another, I didn’t finish it. If I am to be buried, then it seems fitting that I absorb the second half of the book, while I, too, am being absorbed by mycelium and fungi.

Three book covers with a red background behind them.
From left to right: the book that Andrews wishes she’d written; the book she thinks we all should read; and the book she’d be buried with.

The first book I remember reading by myself

I have distinct memories of sitting in front of the fire on cold school mornings, reading Danny, Champion of the World (I remember the cover, illustrated by Jenny Blake and not Quentin Blake). Although I don’t remember much about the book, I do remember having that first true feeling of what reading can be. I was completely absorbed. That is a feeling that I treasure, and one that I am sure Dahl’s books have given many others over the years.

The book that made me cry

I read Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell while away camping this summer. I had been putting off reading this book for years because of the description I had often heard: “It’s a book about the grief of losing a child.” There never seemed to be a great time to dive into the world of a grieving mother. 

However O’Farrell’s portrayal of the life of Hamnet, Shakespeare’s son, who died at age 11, is beautiful, rich and absorbing. I enjoyed the way Shakespeare is never named, instead allowing the book to focus on Agnes (Anne Hathaway) and her children, and how hard life must have been when he left for London. I cried throughout this book, and truly sobbed at the harrowing description of Agnes preparing her son’s body after he died. This is a book that will stay with me.

The book I wish would be adapted for film or TV

The Appeal by Janice Hallett is a murder mystery written in an epistolary style – told through email, texts and Whatsapp messages. As a murder mystery lover, I loved this fresh take on the format, and would be excited to see it adapted for TV.

Hallett actually began this project as a screenplay, but then it morphed into a novel. I have loved the adaptations of Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders and Moonflower Murders which play cleverly with timeline and structure. The Appeal could have a similar novelty, and I would love to see how the messages and emails might be incorporated into the screenplay.

Three book covers with peach colour behind them.
From left to right: the book that Andrews first remembers reading by herself; her own book; and the book that made her cry.

Encounter with an author

At a book evening here in Wellington in 2012, I had the opportunity to ask Oliver Jeffers (a picture book hero of mine) about his opinion on publishers’ submission guidelines – there seemed to be strong advice that you shouldn’t submit manuscripts with illustrations, but I was an illustrator and a writer. He replied that he sent his first story, fully illustrated and bound, directly to a publisher and was almost immediately published (How to Catch a Star, 2004). He has never known any other way of publishing. It was this matter-of-fact reply that gave me the “permission” to follow my gut, and submit my illustrated manuscripts. A few years later Puffin the Architect (2018) had been accepted by Penguin Random House NZ.

Greatest New Zealand book

Ash by Louise Wallace. I love Louise’s poetry collections, and even had the honour of illustrating the cover of Bad Things, 2017. Her debut novel hit home for me with the story focussing on motherhood, the juggle of work and society’s expectations, all set at a time of unease and worry. The formatting of the book is inventive and powerful – poetry spliced within the narrative, bringing us into the main character’s mental state.

Best place to read

I’ve had a few memorable reading nooks. I worked in a tiny bookshop at a fancy ski hotel in Canada for a winter season, and I would often be able to read a whole book in my 12-hour shifts – it wasn’t the busiest job! While living in London, I read in the British Library, surrounded by some of the most treasured books in English history. But the best place to read has to be in bed. Whether that be snuggled up in my daughter’s bed sharing a story, or with a coffee in mine. 

And I cannot forget Daniel Pennac’s right number seven: “The right to read anywhere.”

What are you reading right now

I have just finished The Midnight Feast by Lucy Foley, and I am currently reading Auē by Becky Manawatu. I also have an audiobook on the go while I’m illustrating – The Inugami Curse, which is the fourth book in the Detective Kosuke Kindaichi series by Japanese Golden Age detective writer Seishi Yokomizo.

Giraffe the Gardener by Kimberly Andrews ($21, Puffin NZ) is available to purchase through Unity Books

Keep going!
The cover of Northbound by Naomi Arnold, with an image of the NZ bush behind it.
Northbound documents Naomi Arnold’s time walking Te Araroa.

BooksApril 8, 2025

‘The trail was haunting me’: Northbound by Naomi Arnold, reviewed

The cover of Northbound by Naomi Arnold, with an image of the NZ bush behind it.
Northbound documents Naomi Arnold’s time walking Te Araroa.

Liv Sisson reads the roller coaster that is Naomi Arnold’s epic account of walking Te Araroa.

Every fucking inch. That’s the approach some trampers take to Te Araroa – the long distance hiking track that runs the length of Aotearoa New Zealand. Others are happy to hitchhike the road sections. Some stick to the highlights or just do one island. Te Araroa (TA) is over 3000 km long, beginning at Cape Reinga and passing through all manner of terrain – beaches, bush sections, forestry blocks, the Southern Alps and Auckland’s CBD – before ending at Bluff.  

I walked a TA road section once near Lake Tekapo. It was hot, dusty and completely exposed to the brutal sun. Totally punishing. A different section I walked in Nelson Lakes climbed through whimsical, moss-covered beech stands to the edge of a suspended alpine lake that holds the clearest known water in the world. Extremely sparkly. 

In her new book, Northbound, award-winning nature and science writer Naomi Arnold walks the TA. Work deadlines mean she can’t start it until January. Not wanting to race winter to Bluff, she decides instead to start there and walk north. This means she’ll have to walk through the colder months but will be able to enjoy the trail and (hopefully) walk every fucking inch of it. 

Arnold gets straight into it. She is “on trail” by page 10. I enjoyed the short exchange between her and husband Doug at the trailhead. It’s only a few snippets of dialogue, just enough to convey that they are both wigging out, have given this undertaking a lot of consideration and are keenly aware it is going to be very hard. He’s worried, she’s worried. He shares some last minute “Alpine Fault could just … go” anxiety. She considers her own mortality. And then sets off.

The way Arnold has managed to condense nine months and 3028 kilometres into bang-on 300 pages is impressive throughout. From the nature descriptions, to the meal recaps and interactions she has with other walkers – the story includes many small but perfectly formed vignettes – like that chat with Doug – that illuminate more than their page space would suggest. 

There’s no upfront promise of personal transformation or revelation in this book – and I liked that. It’s not a pre-ordained hero’s journey. But why did Arnold even want to undertake this massive tramp? And in a way that is not really recommended? She only needs one line to explain – “The trail was haunting me” – she’d come across the TA literally and metaphorically so many times it was just time for her to walk it herself. 

The book’s full title is “Northbound: Four seasons of solitude on the Te Araroa”. But even the solitude part isn’t forcing some overarching lesson from the start. It’s not a silent walk stunt, although Arnold does meet someone along the way who is kind of doing that. Because Arnold ends up being a NOBO (northbound walker) she just doesn’t come across that many fellow walkers. Most walkers are SOBO and have finished up when she’s only half way through.

The cover of Northbound by Naomi Arnold which has an illustration of a person walking in dense bush, looking over a lake and mountains.

Arnold’s writing throughout moves at a perfect clip – it kept me entertained, wanting a little more in some places, but always on the line for whatever came next. She wrote most of the book on trail, with literally 1000 voice notes and her iPad. She ends up writing a good chunk while sheltering in a random woolshed for multiple days during a “demonic windstorm”. 

There’s no rose-tinted retrospect here, and this lends the book a nice feeling of immediacy. You feel very in the moment with Arnold as she walks – it reads less like a memoir and more just like a great story. And it is a roller coaster. There are awe inspiring moments – a rainbow, delicate hoar frost, native bird song, Magellanic clouds and many stunning vistas. But there’s also a lot of cold and a lot of mud. There are primal screams, injuries and a lot of swearing. Snow has begun to fall before we even reach page 100.

I enjoyed how Arnold makes the roller coaster real for the reader. In one moment things are light, airy, funny – there are “whio ducks whistling far down the river below, sounding exactly like the foot pump on an air mattress”. But just a few pages later she’s scared, afraid, then “so high [she’s] crying over a pair of whio whistling in a lonely river at dawn.” 

The nature descriptions throughout the book feel like little gems. I wanted more of them but also appreciate that Arnold didn’t lean too heavily on the beauty of the trail to carry the story. I underlined her encounter with carnivorous snails – “Bronze whorls of their shells glinting in my lamplight and their oily muscular black bodies searching, searching like a tongue.”

Food descriptions throughout Northbound are entertaining but also a clever tool. They help you understand Arnold’s environment and mind along the way. There’s overly tart homemade fruit leather at the start. Later there are tears shed over a chicken broccoli bake and a meal that consists of short dated gummy worms, hot chips and raspberry Coke. So many little details, never overwritten, indite you into the world of Arnold’s walk. By the end you’re speaking her hiker language, breezing through lines laden with TA lingo.

While most of the walk is solo, the few trail friendships Arnold does strike up are tender, intimate and a little bit silly. Like those crazy tight friendships that come out of summer camp – they spring from nothing, mean the most for a short time, then end just as suddenly. Arnold’s relationships along the way – with herself, her partner, family, friends – are probably what got me thinking most. It’s curious to consider what it would be like to zoom out on all of those, all at once, like she does. 

Arnold is a fantastic narrator to journey with up the trail, and Northbound is a great read for outdoor adventure seekers or readers who like stories set outdoors. Arnold’s account of the TA is often delightful and always honest. It’s a window into what you could expect to get out of any thru hike – munted feet, but also meaning. These moments of meaning unfurl naturally: Arnold leads them to you deftly, suggests them, and this makes Northbound a deeply satisfying read.

Northbound: Four seasons of solitude on Te Araroa by Naomi Arnold ($40, HarperCollins) can be purchased from Unity Books.