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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

“We’re past the parking lot and kiosk, Sam—it’s Port Phillip Bay now, and it’s all water like sky and little flecks of sailboats, the sand hugging the blue, and trees and houses sloping all the way out to the city that’s just this jagged line.”

I stopped, feeling myself blush and thinking I was being silly. Until Sam’s shoulder bumped mine and I looked over—his eyes were still closed, but his hands were a little looser on the bar.

“Keep going,” he said.

And so I did.

“Point Nepean is in the other direction, but it’s just this kind of blur on the horizon, this speck of land that looks so small and far away. . . .” Because it was, I suppose. “We can’t see it, but there’s a whole world past the peninsula where the water stretches out—beyond the Indian Ocean to the west, Pacific Ocean in the east, and the Southern Ocean down here, down south. . . .”

“Now you’re just showing off,” he said, and I looked over to see he was smiling, eyes still closed.

“Everything looks smaller, Sam.” And I wondered if that’s what Mr. Khouri meant. “Even though it’s just the same as it’s always been—it feels smaller too.”

Or maybe I just got bigger.

Acknowledgments

Kate Stevens—I had for so long admired your passion and dedication to eclectic storytelling that it was very easy to trust you with my own. It has been an honor to create something so deeply personal and meaningful with you, and the entire Hachette team. Thank you!

To my US publisher, Alyssa Miele—I cannot thank you enough. Book people are my kind of people, and fellow Melina Marchetta fans are in a different league altogether. Thank you for letting me share Fred’s story a little farther with Quill Tree Books—an imprint I so admire.

Karen Ward and Kimberley Bennett—editors extraordinaire who made me sound far more coherent than I really am. Thank you both!

John Hendrix—a thousand times thank you for my gorgeous cover full of light, stars, and my beloved Fred. You made this big moment so beautiful.

Astred Hicks—thank you for my beautiful map; it makes me smile and I always go in for a closer look.

Jacinta di Mase—you completely changed my life the day you tapped me on the shoulder at the Wheeler Centre. I will never be able to thank you enough, or fully explain how wildly I appreciate and admire you; but I do. You’re one of my favorite people in the world.

This book took—all up—about five years to write. To that end, I’d like to figuratively tip my hat to some of the people I met along the way during my research: