I was in Tonga, outside in the late afternoon, completely unbothered, watching the children run barefoot, yelling in a mix of English and Tongan.
But it was my little one I kept coming back to. A girl who lives between two worlds. Adventurous. Bold. Navigating two cultures that collide in ways that are funny, confusing, and sometimes painful. Island life and city life. What her family expects of her, and who she actually is.
That’s where the story found me. Not all at once. Just the beginning of it.
The book is called The Malohi Line: The Silence We Carry. It’s the first in a trilogy.
A middle-grade novel for readers aged eight to twelve, set in South Auckland and on a small Tongan island. It follows a family quietly coming apart in New Zealand, through the eyes of a thirteen-year-old daughter who notices everything.
When they eventually cross the ocean, the island they land on is carrying a truth about them that has been buried for generations.
I’m not going to tell you the full plot. It’s still in the final draft and honestly, I change something every week. But I’ll tell you what lives underneath the adventure, because that’s the part that matters to me.
It’s about identity.
About what happens when you grow up between two cultures and don’t fully belong to either one. About the things families don’t talk about, and how silence can feel heavy and unsettling when you’re young enough to notice but not old enough to understand.
It’s also about kids being kids, getting into exactly the kind of trouble that happens when the adults aren’t paying attention. It’s fast, it’s funny, and it’ll have you giggling as you race through the pages.
The reason I feel so strongly about writing this book is simple. There aren’t enough Pacific stories in children’s fiction. Full stop. Pacific kids in New Zealand grow up reading about kids in London, New York, and Sydney. They read about snow and autumn leaves and baseball games and boarding schools. Which is fine. Stories should take you places you have never been.
But they should also show you places you have.
They should show you that your world is worth writing about. That your family is interesting enough to be in a book. That the island your grandparents came from isn’t just a holiday destination; it’s a place with stories worth telling.
If it reaches kids who see themselves in it, that’s everything. If it reaches kids who have never heard of Tonga and makes them curious, even better.
Right now, the first book is in its final draft. I’ve been working on it for over a year. It has been rewritten more times than I can count. Some chapters made me cry. Some chapters made my editor cry. One chapter made my husband put the pages down and walk outside for a minute. That’s how I know it’s close.
I’m documenting the journey as I go. The writing, the self-doubt, the breakthroughs, the moments I nearly quit. The moments I start again.
If you’d like to follow along, I’d love to have you. I write about the book, motherhood, money, and building a life between two countries every Sunday.
You can also follow me on Instagram @stockhausens_ where I share the day-to-day of writing, raising three children, and trying to get this book into the world.
