Peter Carnavas: ‘I wanted to write what it feels like to be a little brother.’

Peter Carnavas writes and illustrates books for children and the grown-ups in their lives. He has made many picture books, including Jessica’s Box, Last Tree in the City and The Children Who Loved Books. He won the 2016 SCBWI Crystal Kite Award, an Australian Book Industry Award in 2017, and his novel The Elephant won a Queensland Literary Award in 2018, as well as being shortlisted in the NSW Premier’s Literary Awards and the CBCA Awards. He is a popular presenter in schools and his work has been translated into many languages, including Italian, Portuguese, Korean and Dutch. Peter lives on the Sunshine Coast with his wife, two daughters, a dog called Florence and a cat named Harry.

Today, Peter Carnavas is on the blog to share a little about the inspiration behind his new book, My Brother Ben. Read on …

Peter Carnavas

Why I wrote My Brother Ben

The narrator of my new book, My Brother Ben, is a ten-year-old boy called Luke. He’s a quiet kid, a birdwatcher who carries a pencil and sketchbook wherever he goes. Then there’s Ben, Luke’s big brother who is on the cusp of starting high school. Ben jumps out of trees, scales the old windmill and, if he wanted to, could kick a ball into the next neighbourhood. The boys couldn’t be more different but they do everything together: ride bikes, explore their creek, tease, taunt and tackle each other. It’s the kind of brotherly relationship found in many backyards around Australia, marked by competitiveness, name-calling and the sort of laughter that makes boys fall off their beds, out of breath. There’s a lot of warmth between the boys but beneath it all, there’s a lopsided sense that Luke sees Ben as a hero, and Ben sees Luke as someone to protect.

I didn’t just want to write a story about brothers. I wanted to write what it feels like to be a little brother. I’m the youngest in my family and have spent my life admiring my sister and two brothers, following their lead and quietly hoping for approval, even now that we’re all grown up with children of our own. There are some great things about being the youngest, aside from the hand-me-downs. When I was twelve, my eldest brother started taking me to all the independent record shops in Brisbane, kickstarting my obsession with music. As a teen, my sister let me tag along to so many movies that I eventually studied film subjects at uni. And an unexpected perk of being the youngest was, as the last to leave home, getting to spend meaningful time with my parents at a chilled-out phase of their lives.

One of my brothers is just a few years older than me and, like Luke and Ben, we did everything together through our primary school years. An enduring sensation from that time is being itchy from the grass in the backyard, having played one-on-one games of cricket, soccer or footy until we could hardly see each other in the dark. When we moved from the Brisbane burbs to the Sunshine Coast, just a few blocks from the beach, things started to change. I had just reached double figures; my brother was edging towards his teens. I told Mum I hated living near the beach and wanted to move back to Brisbane, slip straight back into our old house. But what I really wanted was a return to the way things were with my brother. I wanted a game of backyard cricket that would last forever, an afternoon that would never get dark.

This is the feeling I wanted to capture in My Brother Ben, the moment when a younger brother feels outgrown. In the first half of the story, as the boys make plans to win a boat, they show affection for the things that make them different. Luke’s narration paints Ben as a kind of backyard legend. Ben’s dialogue reveals a quiet admiration for Luke’s knowledge of birds. But when Ben starts high school and finds a friend more like himself, Luke gets left behind. Their differences now manifest as cracks in the relationship and the tension finally explodes in a midnight scene at the creek. It’s one my favourite chapters in the book, full of betrayal and blame, a scuffle and a stolen boat. It’s a chance for Luke to confront his brother and his fears. A chance to be the hero for once.

But maybe he’s been the hero all along. Perhaps the relationship – and the admiration – isn’t as lopsided as he thinks. It’s a strange and wonderful thing to discover your big brother thinks highly of you in some way. It’s happened to me a few times and I’ve attempted to weave the idea into the ending of My Brother Ben. As the story closes, there’s hopefully a sense of balance as we leave the boys to their backyard and their creek. I’d love readers to feel that their friendship will only get stronger, even when they become grown-ups with children of their own.

That’s how things have turned out for my brother and me. After that move to the coast, he outgrew me and I felt left behind, but all I remember now are the things we did together: bashing out Dinosaur Jr songs on guitars in his room, trying to recreate World Cup ’94 goals at the park, and cracking up at our favourite Young Ones episodes. We were good friends then and better friends now. Nothing beats having a big brother and he’s still my hero. That’s why I wrote My Brother Ben.

—My Brother Ben by Peter Carnavas (University of Queensland Press) is out now.

My Brother Ben

by Peter Carnavas

Luke and his big brother Ben spend the summer on the banks of Cabbage Tree Creek. Quiet Luke sketches birds, while Ben leaps off the Jumping Tree. The boys couldn't be more different but they share the same dream- winning a boat so they can explore the creek properly.

Then Ben starts high school and the boys drift apart. When Luke catches Ben sneaking out at night, he knows his brother's up to something, but what? A timeless story of birds and boats, and of brotherly love...

Order NowRead More

No comments Share:

About the Contributor

Booktopia Guest Blogger