“I’ve always been drawn to the traces people leave behind — a letter, a building, a photograph.
For me, history begins with those fragments
and grows into stories we can carry forward.”
GHOSTWRITING
While ghostwriting Ranald Macdonald’s autobiography, I traced the crisis he sparked as a member of the Australian Bicentennial Authority.
GHOSTWRITING
In the National Archives, I uncovered a cache of documents that detailed the fallout. Ranald was astounded I had gone to such lengths to unearth that material, and he found it fascinating.
GHOSTWRITING
That’s the heart of ghostwriting: bringing a person’s story to life with rigour, care, and evidence they may have forgotten — or never known.
COMMISSIONED
HISTORIES
For Simon Normand’s forthcoming book Ludwig Leichhardt: Before the Clearing, I was commissioned to weave existing research into a narrative showing how a once-celebrated journey left behind a disturbing legacy of frontier violence — a history that still resonates today.
COMMISSIONED HISTORIES
Projects like this demand more than compiling sources — they call for storytelling that helps readers reckon with difficult pasts.
HERITAGE & PLACEMAKING
During a commission to interpret the history of an old boot factory in Collingwood, I began tracing the suburb’s industrial past through the lives of its workers.
HERITAGE & PLACEMAKING
In the archives and in secondary sources I uncovered how local families — especially women and girls — stitched boots in stifling rooms, while the factory grew to supply 100,000 pairs to the military during the war.
HERITAGE & PLACEMAKING
For developers, uncovering stories like this turns heritage into placemaking — giving new projects cultural depth and community connection.
A DECADE AGO, at the National Library of Australia, the sun caught Lake Burley Griffin as I opened a box of records for the first time. That quiet encounter with the archive set me on a path I still follow today.
I’m a PhD-trained historian working on Wurundjeri land in Collingwood, Melbourne. I uncover the stories behind people, places, and organisations — the kind of work that helps us understand ourselves and make better decisions.
After ten years in universities, I left for more freedom and creativity — a chance to practise history beyond journals and rankings.
The turning point came when I collaborated with Ranald Macdonald on his autobiography. At the same time, I grew frustrated with contradictions inside the sector. Some departments weren't rigorous enough; in other disciplines scholarship aimed at broader audiences was dismissed.
Some people infer that if you do a lot of radio interviews about your best-selling book you are a lightweight and a show off. Others assume that if you exclusively publish in international A-ranked journals you are an outmoded egghead with bad social skills.
Prof Clare Wright, Historian & author of You Daughters of Freedom
That candid assessment echoed what I had already felt inside academia and reinforced my belief in a better way to practise history — one that combines rigour with creativity. Historical method still shapes my work, but I apply it where it can live in the world: for families preserving legacy, communities shaping identity, and organisations building trust.
Recent projects include commissioned histories that help readers reckon with difficult pasts, and interpretation of a former boot factory shaped by industry, war, and creativity.
Scroll below to see this approach in action.
My Approach
The past hides in plain sight. A street corner layered with old signage, a building repurposed three times over, a name remembered differently by each generation. These are the details I look for — and the starting points for histories that matter.
I draw on archives and lived memory, but what makes the work distinctive are the values behind it. Curiosity means I follow threads others might overlook. Integrity means I show my sources, handle them with care and navigate complexity. Collaboration asks that I listen as closely to clients and communities as I do to the record.
What this gives you is more than background. It’s a story you can share with confidence, that deepens a project, earns trust, and helps people see their place in a longer continuum of history.
What Drives Me
I’ve always been the kind of historian who lingers. A shoebox of photographs can hold me for hours; a forgotten clipping can change the angle of a whole story. That same attention is what keeps me combing archives for overlooked details — the lines in a ledger or the names in a minute book that can shift how a story unfolds.
History, at its best, is about connection. It turns fragments into stories that people can carry with them.
If this is the kind of history your project needs, let’s start a conversation.