
International award-winning children’s and YA author, Maura Pierlot, is here to share some insightful, honest and open truths behind her latest, compelling, poignant and important tale for today’s adolescents (and beyond) – The Lies We Tell Ourselves. Maura’s writing delves deeply into existential themes, allowing readers vital opportunities for conversations about identity, mental wellbeing and the complexities of the human experience. In this interview, we discuss the use of philosophical thought as a tool for growth, how so many teens could relate to her protagonist’s journey on different personal levels, plus more.
Thank you, Maura! 🙂
Congratulations on the upcoming release of your powerful new YA novel, The Lies We Tell Ourselves!
Following your previous, widely-acclaimed YA book, stage play, web series and feature-length film, Fragments, you expertly engage your background in philosophy with another gripping tale that explores prevalent adolescent themes, including addressing ‘big truths’, and the impacts on mental and physical health, social media, and the nuances of different teen relationships. Why are you drawn to write about these topics (and other themes) for a young adult audience?
Thanks for the opportunity, Romi, and for such great questions. I don’t know for certain why I’m drawn to complex and contentious themes, but I think it has something to do with meaning and strength coming from insight and understanding. We’ve all been through experiences and circumstances that test us, and have the potential to disarm and unravel us; it’s so easy – especially in today’s world – to be crushed by the weight of despair. But I learned long ago that if we work out the shape of complex emotions, pressing and testing their contours, then we can step through the door to growth. On a personal level, I’ve always been drawn to big ideas, especially existential tenets and spiritual paths, not in a woo-woo kind of way, more as a personal primer for how to live a personally meaningful and fulfilling life. This is what led me to study philosophy for so many years, particularly applied philosophy (also called practical philosophy), which marries theory and practice. Although I’m no longer studying or teaching philosophy, I use it every day in my work, personal, social and creative life.
As for mental health, I think all artists have a hint of madness; the challenge is how to train and rein those impulses so the creative process can unfold organically and authentically. Given my fascination with all things existential, it’s only natural that the mysteries, complexities and intricacies of the human psyche are fodder for much of my writing. And finally, I think our early years, especially high school, are formative on more levels than we realise. When I’m writing about adolescence in any art form, my head is populated with young people I know, including my younger self. My aim is to unpack complex, often ethereal and elusive, issues and emotions – especially the ones no one wants to talk about – as a prelude to connection and clarity.
What, ultimately, do you hope readers will learn, take away or be inspired by after reading The Lies We Tell Ourselves?
There are many things I hope readers will take away from the book. I hope they see themselves on the page; get one step closer to knowing their authentic selves; aim to stand out rather than to fit in; view connections with family and friends as more important than ever, especially in a world that often feels divided; embrace philosophy as a tool and resource for deeper insights, self-reflection and personal growth; recognise the element of deception that drives social media’s fascination with the aesthetic and its adverse effects on self-esteem and body image; reach out to people in their lives who are struggling; and reevaluate their own relationship with food and exercise, taking appropriate steps to address unhealthy patterns and behaviours.
Please tell us a bit about the angst and journey of your main character, Harley, and what she learns about herself in this story.
Fifteen-year-old Harley’s voice starts off as feisty and funny. She’s looking forward to starting Year 10, though still processing the sudden death of her beloved grandmother. She doesn’t know what to make of her best friend’s Italian summer glow-up or her quirky male friend acting even stranger than usual. Her parents are constantly fighting and her brother seems to go out of the way to annoy her. When gorgeous new student, Carter, struts into class, Harley sets out to reinvent herself, thinking if she’s thinner, prettier, better he’ll fall in love with her. What starts off as a harmless goal – losing a few kilos – soon morphs into a potentially deadly game of self-deception. I don’t want to give too much away about the story arc, Harley’s reliability as a narrator, or the mystery element that supports the throughline. Simply put, Harley eventually realises that grief creates a space she can control, rather than be controlled by; embraces her authentic self rather than try to be someone she’s not; accepts that connection, not pulling away, is the key to working through complex issues; considers mindfulness (writing, philosophy, nature) as a practice that can nourish and sustain her; and recognises that hope and healing are integral to her physical and mental health challenges.
How did you develop Harley’s character? How much research goes into the inner world building of a young person with mental health and body dysmorphia issues?
I continually devoured the latest health and mental health studies and insights and spoke with many people with personal and lived experience of these issues. I’ve known people of all ages who have struggled with body image and eating-related issues; in fact, I’ve recently recognised that my relationship with food has been disordered at times throughout my life despite having a ‘normal’ weight and BMI. Many people wrongly believe that someone with eating-related issues has to be overweight or underweight. I think we all need to be educated about body image and eating-related issues and mental health, particularly how to approach people in our lives when we believe they are struggling.
When it comes to writing, I joke that I’m a ‘panter,’ somewhere between plotter and pantser, figuratively (when I write, there’s often an intensity that takes over, as though I’m channelling the characters, experiencing their anguish) and literally (I can often feel my heartbeat racing and my breath quickening, like I’m on the verge of hyperventilating). My writing strength is character and voice, so naturally, I tend to focus on inner monologue rather than plot devices, at least to start. Harley poured out of me nearly fully formed. Maybe that’s because I lived with her, and people like her, for so many years. The overwhelming majority of manuscript assessors, editors, publishers and beta readers who have had eyes on the story over the years said they knew Harley, too. Some fabulous early reviews are coming in, and I’m heartened by how strongly readers of all ages are engaging with the work.
The book also deals with grief and loss that feels almost all-consuming for your character. Can you explain how books like The Lies We Tell Ourselves, and others in this category, might help provide support or reassurance to adolescents experiencing similar situations?
It’s human nature that when we’re struggling, we often pull away from others, convinced that no one could possibly know how we feel, and our grief must remain a solitary experience. When young people see characters grappling with loss, they feel less alone. We often think of books (especially for young adults) as a means of escape, but reading can also be a return to self, to meaning, to hope. Fiction can give legitimacy to the emotions and experiences that young people are sometimes sidelined by – the sense of confusion and vulnerability, the fear of ‘getting it wrong’, whether ‘it’ is a relationship, friendship, school or life. Simply put, books can capture the messy, non-linear nature of adolescence. Although the answers aren’t provided, reading can certainly offer a roadmap of sorts.
Your cover design by Nicola Matthews is striking with its sumptuously rich burgundy colour, symbolising layered meanings of ambition and strength. The fig references are also important to this tale, signifying growth and wisdom. What was the process like in collaborating with Nicola to achieve this eye-catching and symbolic front cover?
I absolutely LOVE the cover. Nicola is so talented. She also designed the cover for the 2nd edition of Fragments (the illustrated YA novella). We started out at a very different place to where we ended up. The first concepts had a mass media vibe whereas I pictured something bold but quirky, a bit art house. The great thing about Nicola is she’s open to feedback and direction and took my comments on board. I suggested the fig as the main image because it does tie into the story on many levels, so Nicola progressed this image, adding the cross-out and torn paper and other flourishes. In the next round she worked up several revised concepts, each striking and unique. In fact, I loved so many of the options that I had to take a straw poll to see which ones were resonating with others. When Nicola refined and finessed a few of the concepts, I knew straight away that the current cover image was the one, and I think she knew this too.
Any tips or pieces of advice to readers or writers of YA in dealing with some of these raw or intense teen topics?
This will sound woefully simplistic, but if I had to sum up helpful advice for young people, I’d say: Read more, move more (ie, put down your devices) and talk more. Reading is an act of mindfulness, and continued exposure to different narratives can build perspective, self-identity, resilience and a sense of connection. Sport and exercise, even just walking and stretching, can do wonders for sleep, energy levels, focus, motivation, mood, reducing stress and more. Sharing your thoughts and experiences with people you trust and respect can lead to greater insights and new perspectives, empower us to take control of our narratives, reduce our feelings of loneliness and isolation, and open the door to seeking help, when needed.
Thanks so much for your insights, Maura!
Thanks again, Romi – it’s been a pleasure 🙂
BOOK LAUNCH NEWS!
Maura will launch THE LIES WE TELL OURSELVES in conversation with Canberra arts advocate, Barbie Robinson, at The Book Cow, Kingston on 31st July at 6pm. (direct link to register TBA)


Please find Maura Pierlot at her website: https://maurapierlot.com/ and on Instagram and Facebook.
The Lies We Tell Ourselves is available for pre-order purchase through Maura’s Linktree link. (Available as paperback, audio and Kindle)
Published August 1st by Big Ideas Press.
Maura is available for workshops and presentations to school students and teachers via Booked Out.
Uncover the truths behind the story with Maura Pierlot and The Lies We Tell Ourselves, enlightening readers across the blogosphere!


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