Kate Preece is a full-time author with one published children’s picture book, and two more scheduled for release in 2024, all with Bateman Books. Her first children’s book, One Weka Went Walking (2022), showcases some of the rare, endemic birds of the Chatham Islands/Wharekauri/Rēkohu. It received a Storylines Notable Book Award in 2022.
In 2022, Kate also won the Exisle Academy ‘The Story I Needed To Have Read’ international
competition for short story Lake Fly. The prize included a manuscript assessment for her first
adult novel.
She has a Bachelor of Arts (2003–2005), a Graduate Diploma in Journalism Studies (2006),
and 14 years’ experience in New Zealand’s magazine industry (2007–2021). During this
time, she was editor and group editor for award-winning national magazines, such as Kiwi
Gardener.
Lake Fly
An extract of the short story that won Exisle Academy’s ‘The Story I Needed To Have Read' writing competition.
A lake fly lives for five days, at most.
The thought jiggled about Claire’s mind as she walked along the uneven stopbank.
She didn’t think lake flies deserved any more time on this earth — she hated lake flies. They slipped into the house through any opening, then in death congealed in a sludge that stained and smelled foul. Thank God they didn’t bite.
“Would you do things differently if you knew your lifetime was really short?”
Her walking buddy grimaced. “That’s a bit heavy.”
“It’s just a question.”
The sun hung high in the cloudless sky, its rays bouncing off puddles that pockmarked the ground. The lake had withdrawn, changing the meeting point of the ducks and swans.
“Do you mean knowing how much time I have left, or always knowing when the end will come?”
“The latter,” Claire said, passing another plume of the short-lived bugs.
“Imagine your life was only a week long.”
Jo clamped a hand on her sister’s arm. “You’re not trying to tell me something, are you?”
Claire turned to face her. “No, no, nothing like that. I was just thinking about the lake fly.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Jo shook off the fingers of fear. “Why on earth are you contemplating the fate of the lake fly? They’re such a nuisance.” She scrunched up her nose. “All they do is reproduce and die.”
“That used to be all that was expected of us.”
Jo scowled. “I’m not about to pump out 3000 babies to keep up with an insect.”
Claire grinned. “Ok, ok, perhaps not the best comparison. What if… no one made it past their thirtieth birthday?”
Jo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Thirty? I had not long passed the bar and only just got to London. I didn’t own a house… I hadn’t even met Tony!” Jo rubbed at her temple as if to squeeze out a clearer picture of her life 12 years ago. “I was finally making headway up the ladder!”
A flock of Canada geese took to the air with a heavy flap of wings and a chorus of honks.
“Our parents had it sorted by 30.”
“They didn’t have the options we have,” said Jo. “We are the generation that has to make up for women being held back all this time.”
[…]
