James Bradley studied Law and Philosophy at the University of Adelaide and also studied Scriptwriting at the Australian Film, Television and Radio School. He has worked as a law clerk, a judge's associate, a solicitor and a research assistant. During his residency in Shanghai, under the Asialink Writers' Residencies programme (2005), he worked on themes for a novel of colonial enterprise, modernity and occupation in China during the mid-twentieth century.
'A provocative, urgent novel about time, family and how a changing planet might change our lives, from James Bradley, acclaimed author of The Resurrectionist and editor of The Penguin Book of the Ocean.
'Compelling, challenging and resilient, over ten beautifully contained chapters, Clade canvasses three generations from the very near future to late this century. Central to the novel is the family of Adam, a scientist, and his wife Ellie, an artist. Clade opens with them wanting a child and Adam in a quandary about the wisdom of this. Their daughter proves to be an elusive little girl and then a troubled teenager, and by now cracks have appeared in her parents' marriage. Their grandson is in turn a troubled boy, but when his character reappears as an adult he's an astronomer, one set to discover something astounding in the universe. With great skill James Bradley shifts us subtly forward through the decades, through disasters and plagues, miraculous small moments and acts of great courage. Elegant, evocative, understated and thought-provoking, it is the work of a writer in command of the major themes of our time.' (Publication summary)
1372014single work short story 'In the afternoon, after Superhero Squad and Young Justice are finished, Quinn goes out into the back yard. Once, when he was younger, he used to come out here all the time to play with his plastic fort. The fort is still here, standing near the barbecue, but it is ruined now, its bright blues and reds faded and streaked. Last summer his mum's boyfriend, Dean, decided to tidy up out here, but soon lost interest, leaving the rubbish he collected lying in plastic bags next to Quinn's old bike by the garage. In the six months since then they have perished and split, allowing the leaves and sticks inside to spill out and rot beside them. Crossing to them, Quinn kicks one of them gently then, seeing a stick, reaches down and pulls it free...' (Publication abstract)