Greg Billington

Greg Billington is a New Zealander who has worked variously as commercial fisherman, teacher, and corporate business manager. For those less familiar, New Zealand, or Aotearoa as it was named by the first peoples - the Maori - is roughly two thousand kilometres east of Sydney, Australia, in the South Pacific Ocean. Though comprising two main islands, it straddles almost the same distance from north to south, and so ranges from sub tropical to sub antarctic climes; and with soaring mountains, rain forest and deserts, and both balmy and wild coasts, provides a wonderful back drop to stories portraying the interaction between people and the natural world. But wherever his stories are situated, Greg's primary interest is in exploring how his characters deal with physical and mental adversity, moral uncertainty, ambition and temptation, love and frailty. In this, he very much ascribes to the view that each of us is a being of many dimensions, good and bad; often transforming ourselves catastrophically as well as incrementally throughout our lives, and it is the portrayal of this complexity, he considers, that is most often the hall mark of the greatest stories.

Once a hunter, Greg has been for many years now, a vegetarian. He has two wonderful children of his own and a much-loved stepson. He holds bachelor of arts and masters of business administration degrees. He owned a splendid Norton Commando motorcycle until he crashed. He has a one hundred-year old launch that he voyages around New Zealand's Hauraki Gulf. He loves music and art and is grateful to be alive at a time when we are unravelling so many of the mysteries of the Cosmos. He is deeply concerned about the negative impacts of the Anthropocene - climate change, degradation of the natural environment and the extinction of species. He has made as many mistakes as the next. More, most likely.

And a novel? 'It must entertain - amuse and exhilarate, but it is so much grander if in some way it contributes, through the sharing of experience and insight, to change in our perceptions; and especially if it acquaints us with characters we are glad to know.' It is a high bar. You, dear reader, can judge for yourself.