After collapse and controversy, Adelaide writers’ week has a new director: ‘I don’t envy anyone in this position’ | Adelaide writers’ week

As the explosion at Adelaide writers’ week in January made headlines across Australia and the world, Rosemarie Milsom was watching closely.
The Adelaide festival board, which oversees the AWW, overruled literary festival director Louise Adler and disinvited Palestinian-Australian author Randa Abdel-Fattah over her past comments about Israel and Zionism. This decision resulted not in a quieter, less controversial festival as the board members had hoped, but in a boycott by more than 200 writers, the resignation of Adler – followed by the entire board – a possible libel suit against the South Australian premier, and the collapse of the AWW.
It was not yet publicly known that Milsom had also booked Abdel-Fattah as director of the Newcastle writers’ festival five months ago. However, Milsom had predicted that this very debate might occur and had been preparing for months.
On Friday, AWW announced the appointment of Milsom as AWW’s new director; Milsom accepted this position with enthusiasm and understandable caution. She attends frequently and appreciates AWW’s “fantastic” commitment to keeping sessions free: “I grew up in a single-parent family in Sydney and having access to free arts events really shaped who I am… I’d be shocked if that changed.” He adds with a laugh: “I think if that had happened, there would have been a lot more outrage than what happened this year!”
Let’s get back to this. Both Newcastle and Adelaide made the decision to invite Abdel-Fattah but only one blew it. So what was different for Milsom?
In February, with the ashes of the AWW still smoldering, New South Wales Liberal MP Aileen MacDonald used the state parliament to reveal that Milsom had also booked Abdel-Fattah and questioned why the festival had received $250,000 in government funding. Prime Minister Chris Minns called the Newcastle festival “crazy” and “divisive” but said he would not intervene; By then he was perhaps aware of the growing controversy around his South Australian counterpart Peter Malinauskas’ decision to oppose the writer on the Adelaide board.
Milsom, who founded NWF from scratch in 2013, kept his word. He refused to make public public statements (“not worth the paper it’s written on”) and emailed every booked writer directly, promising that no one would be sacked. He declined to comment on Minns’ “crazy” statement. And more importantly, as her inbox and DMs flooded with abuse, she reminded herself: none of this was actually about her.
Milsom was born in Bosnia to Bosnian Muslim parents and lost his family in the Bosnian genocide; So he has strong personal views on politics, but he also understands the value of objectivity in leadership and the democratic function of literary festivals.
“Aileen MacDonald wanted our funding canceled and I remember thinking I was going to come to Newcastle and say that,” he says. “Come here and talk to all the businesses, the hotels booked, the rental car company that picks up the writers from the airport, the local caterer, the local printers, the musicians playing during lunch breaks, the tech and sound company. They’re all local. Thousands of dollars are invested in this community before it even reaches audiences.”
“I remember thinking I had the courage to say that to Chris Minns in Newcastle. There’s safety in being in Sydney and shooting arrows on the motorway.”
Despite the controversy – or perhaps because of it – viewers mobilized around the NWF: This year celebrated record attendance (a 27% increase over 2025) and there were no protests or boycotts. Milsom’s message to viewers is: “If you want to get caught up in a sensational media headline and pressure from certain segments of the media or society, that’s your choice. I’ll get on with my job.”
‘Arts organizations continue to make the same mistake’
Milsom recalls the first time he faced pressure to disinvite writers in 2024 because of their views on Israel and Gaza. “It was unprecedented,” he says. There was no plan in place for something that hadn’t happened before: “The level of emotion, the anger, the disappointment, the hurt that people felt about what happened on October 7th – rightfully so, it was terrible – suddenly came crashing down on us. And I would say, wouldn’t everyone be like that if we were caught off guard?”
Milsom credits his 20-year career in journalism with helping him cope. “I know the pressure to not cover something up,” he says. “It’s not a nice feeling. It makes you lose sleep. But in the back of your mind, if you’re a good, decent journalist, you know there’s a bigger reason you’re writing a story… Turn it into a writers’ festival; that’s curatorial independence.”
“You have to know why you’re doing what you’re doing. That can get lost when you’re in the middle of a barrage of emails or getting terribly threatening DMs, and writers deal with that. You basically want that to go away. And I appreciate that the easiest way for that to happen is to get rid of the writer — but that’s never going to be the answer.”
Some arts organisations, including Creative Australia and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, have canceled shows and excluded artists whose work or views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have been criticized. But Milsom says it never got the results they hoped for: “I’m really disappointed that they keep making the same mistake. If you think the only way forward on this is to appease one particular group, that’s not a fair response. What happens when five groups come at you? Can you appease all five?”
He worries that pressure could start to shape decision-making at other festivals; “They can leave, I don’t want any Arab writers in the program, it’s not worth the trouble.”
Abdel-Fattah thanks the NWF board for supporting him in the face of pressure. “When management fails, you understand what happens in Adelaide. If a board is weak, confused and afraid and worried about what sponsors or the government will say, they turn on you. Strong management means you will upset people. You can never please everyone. Your decision not to reject a writer will disappoint people. You can only move forward with your integrity in place.”
But he admits that doesn’t make it any easier. “I got to a point a few times with the NWF where I thought, I can’t do this, I don’t want to do it, everything is too hard,” he says. “I don’t envy anyone in this position. I’m just organizing a writers’ festival, I don’t run the country. I don’t make decisions about the federal budget or whether we’re going to war…
“It’s ridiculous in some ways… Everyone needs to step back and look at what writers’ festivals actually are, what we do, and what it is at its core, which is literature. If you think it’s damaging for writers to be able to express their opinions, that’s worrying.”
Adler was known for his commitment to similar principles but was still ignored. Is Milsom confident he has the full support of the new Adelaide festival board?
“One of the first questions I asked was: ‘Do you have real independence and policies in place?’ “They said yes too,” he says. “If the other board had stayed, there was no way I would have applied. I don’t think many people would have applied, to be honest. That could have led to the demise of the AWW. That was the line drawn.”
So far, only one writer has been invited to AWW in 2027: Abdel-Fattah, who was invited by the new board in a gesture of apology. Milsom says he hasn’t accepted it yet. “I appreciate that people disagree with what he says. But I still stand by the principle that he should be allowed to have those views and that it shouldn’t affect his invitation to the writers’ festival.”
As for Malinauskas, to whom were the two statements of concern issued by the lawyers representing Abdel Fattah? “I’m really looking forward to meeting the Prime Minister,” says Milsom. “Of course we will have a professional relationship… I am really excited for the next three years.”
His hope is that when AWW rolls around in 2027, everyone will be relieved to have survived. “My sense is that everyone will move on,” he says. “And if you’re still confused about what happens in 2026, then that’s really your responsibility.”




