Emily Larkin

Emily Larkin is an Australian author who holds a Doctor of Creative Arts (Creative Writing) from the University of the Sunshine Coast. Emily is the author of the picture book The Whirlpool, illustrated by Hélène Magisson and published by Wombat Books (2017), and the young-adult dystopian novel Within the Ward, published by Rhiza Edge (2021). Her short fiction and poetry features in Australian and international literary journals. Emily loves teaching Creative Writing and English Literature at the University of Queensland. To follow Emily, visit ehlarkin.com, find her on Facebook , or view her TikTok at @emilylarkinreaderauthor.

The Dream Netters

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. It’s strange, I know. Mermaongs are supposed to be adventurous. We’re meant to love every part of the ocean—from its glittering surface to the rotting hull of a drowned ship, to the thrill of the Deep Dark, where the blind fish and the shadows with teeth live. There is always some measure of dark: the shadow of fish or sharks, a cloud passing overhead, the shape of something in the distance.

Emily Larkin

Emily Larkin is an Australian author who holds a Doctor of Creative Arts (Creative Writing) from the University of the Sunshine Coast. Emily is the author of the picture book The Whirlpool, illustrated by Hélène Magisson and published by Wombat Books (2017), and the young-adult dystopian novel Within the Ward, published by Rhiza Edge (2021). Her short fiction and poetry features in Australian and international literary journals. Emily loves teaching Creative Writing and English Literature at the University of Queensland. To follow Emily, visit ehlarkin.com, find her on Facebook , or view her TikTok at @emilylarkinreaderauthor.

The Dream Netters

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. It’s strange, I know. Mermaongs are supposed to be adventurous. We’re meant to love every part of the ocean—from its glittering surface to the rotting hull of a drowned ship, to the thrill of the Deep Dark, where the blind fish and the shadows with teeth live. There is always some measure of dark: the shadow of fish or sharks, a cloud passing overhead, the shape of something in the distance.

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