It was a bitter lesson. We limped along until May of 1989, when the original investors bought out my employment contract, and installed an American publisher.

On the day that I left the company, the woman from Wabash called to say that she was very sorry that things had turned out the way they had – she hadn’t meant for me to lose the Company – she just wanted me to do what she said.

It was one of the rare moments in my life when I understood with absolute clarity what the phrase “murderous rage” means.

However, a holiday in Paris cheered me up, and I had time to contemplate what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

Offers in the US were depressingly banal. People wanted me to launch more magazines – small, entrepreneurial start-ups – same old, same old.

So I came back to Australia for a visit to see what was happening here, and discovered that Time magazine was looking for a Publisher.

This suited me exactly. A cashed up US publisher, a job I could do on my ear, serious grown-ups talking about important issues. I breathed a great sigh of relief and came home.

I was Publisher of Time for 4 years, and in that period, we took the magazine from its perennial position of bridesmaid to the Bulletin, to the leadership position it has enjoyed ever since, as the No 1 news and business magazine in Australia.

But after 4 years, I was restless. I wasn’t prepared to accept an extended period as No 2 in the organization, and I realized I wasn’t learning anything anymore.

It’s hard, once you’ve been an entrepreneur to settle back into corporate life. The pace seems slow, the meetings endless. I wanted to be in charge of my own life again.

So I chucked it in. This is not a career move I recommend. Do not try this at home. But I knew I was sick of publishing. I wanted to do something completely different, but had no idea what.

But predictably, opportunity presented itself, as it usually does.

I was invited to chair the Australian Council for Women, the advisory body set up by the Federal Government to provide advice on Australia’s participation in the Fourth UN Conference on Women, held in Beijing in 1995. It ran for 2 years, and the pay was $25,000 a year, but it was an irresistible opportunity. We travelled Australia, holding more than 30 consultations with women from all walks of life. We provided advice to the Government on the key issues for women, and it all culminated in the Conference in Beijing, where I was an adviser to the Australian Government’s delegation.

The two years I invested in this project were extremely useful from a business stand-point, because all those consultations had taught me a lot about Australian women, and that knowledge had a real value and application for business.

When the Conference was over, Saatchi & Saatchi invited me to join their Board as a non-executive Director, and shortly thereafter, as Chair. I had been a client of Saatchi & Saatchi as Publisher of Time magazine, and had stayed in touch with colleagues there, and they were keen to tap into the knowledge I had acquired in the previous two years.

And so this most recent stage of my life began. From 1996, I began to accumulate what I believe is called these days a “portfolio” career. My criteria were that I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t care passionately about. I had to believe that I could make a difference, in whatever role I undertook, and I wanted to develop a mix of paid and unpaid work, so that I could devote some time to my private passions, like books and music.

It’s been a slow process, but I like where my life is now.

My knowledge of marketing was useful to TAFE as it was progressively opened up to competition, and in 1997 I was appointed Chair of the TAFE Board. This has been an absolutely transformatory role for me. I would never have expected to get passionate about vocational education and training, but I’ve fallen in love with it, and I never ceased to be moved by the thousands of people, like my mother, for whom TAFE has provided second chance education, or the thousands of young people training in hospitality, retailing and IT, as well as the more traditional trades.

I’m a director of the Advertising Federation of Australia, the industry’s peak body, and have worked on the Ethics Committee of the AFA for the last 4 years, as we developed the world’s first Code of Ethics for the Advertising Industry.

I chair a small, independent, publishing company, and I’ve re-discovered my love of magazines, and I’m on the board of the Reynolds Wines Company, an entrepreneurial start-up based in the Orange region.

I chair the Sydney Writer’s Festival, where my commitment is to deliver what is unambiguously Australia’s best Writer’s Festival within the next three years.

I’ve bought a harpsichord, and have promised myself I’m going to take up music again, and every year, I sing in the Messiah in the Opera House at Christmas with the Sydney Philharmonia Massed Choirs.

I’m on the board of the Taronga Foundation, and have discovered that raising funds for the conservation of endangered species is an absorbing and rewarding activity.

I coach high potential business executives, which is an extremely enriching experience for me, and I hope for the people I have the pleasure to coach.

And I earn a part of my income through speaking engagements (although I hasten to add I’m not earning any income today – it’s all going to the Library).

So I like the mix of things I do right now –the work I do is varied, interesting, challenging and rewarding. I’ve discovered that a long and happy marriage is a pearl beyond price, and that my children mean more to me than I could ever have possibly imagined. I’m nourished by great friendships, and stimulated by the company of the energetic and talented young women I’m privileged to mentor.

But I think I’m also clear-eyed about the things I’m not – as an arts journalist rather scornfully said of me a couple of weeks ago, I’m no intellectual – I’m intuitive, rather than analytical, and that gets me into trouble sometimes. I’m not particularly clever – I was an average scholar, and I’ve got the concentration span of a gnat. Stripped of everything, I’m a pretty ordinary woman who discovered that if at first, you don’t succeed, just putting one foot after the other seems to work just as well as being a genius, if you keep at it for long enough.

So I think the role of the Jessie Street National Women’s Library is really important. For all that we can learn from all the ordinary and extraordinary women who preceeded us – the telling of their lives can inspire us, educate us and direct us. I’m honoured to have been invited to speak to you today, and I thank you for the opportunity.