Author: Sensei Sarhn
Narrator: Australian Actor, Jane Harber
ISBN: 978-1-7636312-3-6
Run Time: 07:41
Publisher: Empowering Books
Release Date: 29th January, 2026 Australian time (28th in the USA)
Copyright: (c) Sensei Sarhn, text copyright 2024, sound copyright 2025
Who is the narrator for the OSU Audiobook?
The OSU audiobook is narrated by the acclaimed Australian actor Jane Harber. Known for her vibrant and emotive performances, Harber brings an authentic Australian voice to Olive and captures the melodic, Chilean-influenced accent of character Sebastian. Her narration turns this YA coming-of-age story into a deeply immersive listening experience.
When is OSU Audiobook being released?
The OSU Audiobook will be released on the 29th of January, 2026 Australian time (28th in the USA)
What ages are recommended to listen to OSU Audiobook?
OSU is a young adult and teen audiobook. Recommended for listeners aged 12 and older, falling into the “Young Adult” (YA) and “Upper Middle Grade” categories. While the story features deep emotional themes and a “slow-burn” romance, it is a “clean” YA novel, meaning it focuses on character growth, positive friendships, and resilience without explicit adult content.
What is the meaning behind the title OSU?
OSU is a karate, martial arts term.
Is OSU a standalone novel or part of a series?
OSU is the first book in the OSU Rising series, a contemporary Young Adult collection centered on themes of self empowerment, karate martial arts, positive friendships, adoption, dyslexia, and coming-of-age. While the first audiobook concludes Olive’s initial journey, the story continues in the highly anticipated second book, YAME, which is scheduled for release in late 2026. The series explores the interconnected lives of young martial artists as they navigate the challenges of resilience, balance, friendships, and first love.
What tropes and themes are featured in the OSU audiobook?
The OSU Rising series is built on themes of “Found Family”, “Overcoming Adversity”, and “Trial By Fire” and its backdrop is set against the Australian bush and a regional town. The story explores themes of multiculturalism, like the Chilean-Australian heritage. Also, OSU explores the discipline of karate martial arts, the challenges of dyslexia, and the emotional complexities of first love and friendships. It is a clean and empowering YA story, making it perfect for preteen, teenage and older listeners, who enjoy heartfelt, character-driven narratives.
Where is the story of OSU set?
The story of OSU is set in the ruggedly beautiful bushland of regional New South Wales, Australia area of Wollondilly. The setting plays a vital role in the audiobook, with the bushland providing a cinematic atmosphere for protagonist Olive, with a climatic ending. The authentic Australian setting is brought to life through Jane Harber’s natural narration and the specific local details of the region.
How does the OSU audiobook portray dyslexia and neurodiversity?
OSU highlights the “Hidden Genius” trope by portraying dyslexia not as a disability, but as a different way of processing the world. Through the character of Olive, the story explores the resilience required to navigate traditional schooling while celebrating specialised skills, like creativity and intuition, that often accompany neurodiversity. This makes the audiobook an empowering listen for neurodivergent teens and their families.
Does OSU cover themes of adoption and “Found Family”?
Yes, adoption and the “Found Family” trope are central to the emotional heart of the OSU Rising series. The story moves beyond the initial “origin story” of adoption to focus on the strength of chosen bonds and the security of belonging. It provides a positive, nuanced representation of how supportive friendships, mentors, and parental figures create a foundation of resilience for young adults.
What “Life Lessons” are explored in the OSU audiobook?
The OSU audiobook focuses on life lessons regarding resilience, the power of perseverance, and surrounding yourself with positive people. Drawing from martial arts philosophy, the narrative teaches that positive self belief is applicable to all areas of life. From school, to training, to personal relationships.
Can I use the OSU audiobook in a classroom, homeschooling, or book club setting?
Yes, OSU is an excellent resource for classrooms, homeschooling, and book clubs focusing on positive mental health and resilience. Because it addresses topics like self belief, dyslexia and adoption with sensitivity and hope, it provides a perfect jumping-off point for discussions about neurodiversity, empathy, and overcoming personal obstacles. Its “clean” YA rating ensures it is appropriate for educational environments. Visit sarhn.com/shop for the ‘Classroom & Homeschooling Resource’ to accompany the reading or listening to OSU.
Olive looked down at her cyan-blue-stained fingertips momentarily before returning her attention to her creation. She continued to smudge the colour on the textured paper of her sketch book, blending it with the array of blues, greens and purples on the page.
At sixteen, Olive was still experimenting with different artistic media. Pastels were not her usual choice, but they were all she had at hand, and unlike the process of painting, pastel colours are mixed directly on the paper to achieve a wonderfully luscious, velvety texture…and a magnificent mess. Olive picked up a darker blue and ground the chalk-like material harder onto the paper, the crush of the pastel beneath her fingers briefly cathartic. Seeing the contrast of the cobalt against the black leather seats of the family car, a despondent sigh left her lips.
Taking a deep breath into her diaphragm before exhaling with enough force to puff out her cheeks, Olive put her art supplies and paper away. She reached forward slowly to grab her headphones from the back of the front passenger seat, leaving forensic blue handprints on the ear pads as she put them on. She spread the dust across her pants as she pulled her legs tightly to her chest, turning to glare out the window.
Pressing her head gently against the window, the cold of the glass temporarily relieving the tension building in her forehead, until the “Welcome to Buxton” swam into view. The thudding in her head doubled and her stomach tightened in solidarity. They had arrived.
“Honey, we’re here!” Olive heard through her headphones. While there were certainly advantages to the family’s minivan – like the space, which she was particularly grateful for today – the headset interruption feature was not one of them. Without moving her head from the back seat window, she managed to remove her headphones and place them back on their hook.
“We’re here, Olive, look!” Her mum’s elation resonated once more as she turned to look at her subdued daughter. “Our new home is just around the corner.” Olive took a slow, deep breath and offered a tentative smile. After all, this transition had been thrust upon her mother as well.
While she hadn’t seen it on her face, Olive was sure her mum must have felt the same gut churn that she did when they locked up their city house for the final time. How else could she have felt knowing she was leaving their home – and for a place out in the sticks? This morning’s images hung heavily in Olive’s mind, causing her stomach to clench even tighter.
It had been a whirlwind of movement since her parent’s announcement two months ago. Olive’s dad had won the new position of Chief Executive Officer of Wollondilly Council, one of the largest semi-rural councils in Australia and consisting of thirty-four villages. Buxton was one of the smallest and oldest in Wollondilly (“Small but mighty”, according to her dad), and therefore the least attractive to Olive.
Her dad’s excitement about the new position and the move had been palpable the last few weeks. He’d moved around their old home at pace as he’d taped boxes and bubble wrapped glassware, and he’d taken to shaking his head and smiling to himself at random times. In the short period it took them to sell their house, her dad had told the real estate agent at least three times about the new job.
“It’s always been a dream of mine to live in a rural area,” he’d said to the agent, who’d tried his best to look interested. “But you know how hard it is to find senior roles out of the city. I’d almost given up on it, then, whaddaya know, I got a call from Wollondilly Council! Apparently, someone had recommended me, and the rest is history!” He’d laughed, and the agent had smiled politely in return.
The whole thing had felt a little off to Olive. When her dad had asked the HR Manager who’d put him forward, she’d said she “wasn’t at liberty to say”, putting an end to his questions. Though the job offer was a little unorthodox, it was exactly what he’d been looking for, and meant he’d be able to spend more time with her and her mum, no longer having to travel overseas for conferences and meetings. If he’d had any concerns, he’d clearly chosen to overlook them.
There were certainly no signs of hesitation now. Olive’s dad turned off the car engine and jumped out with ninja-like reflexes, running around to open his wife’s door, then Olive’s.
“You going to sit there all day?” he said, leaning in with a gentle smile. He offered his big, warm hand to her, offering to help her out of her car seat fortress. “Come on, Ollie, it’s going to be okay. Just give it a chance.”
He was the only one who called her Ollie. He usually had a way of putting her at ease and making her feel safe, not just with his words but with his kind and loving eyes. She took no comfort from either today. Accepting his hand reluctantly, Olive placed her feet on Buxton soil for the first time. Not as memorable as the first steps of the moon landing, yet to her they felt just as colossal.
Olive’s mother moved next to them, slipping her arm around her daughter’s waist and smiled encouragingly at her. The enthusiasm in her mother’s face suggested she was already mentally mapping out the upcoming house renovation projects. Olive had been wrong; her mum wasn’t sad about the move at all. Watching her gleefully taking in their new surroundings, Olive’s shoulders sagged further. They don’t understand, she thought, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the threat of tears.
Not yet ready to take in the sight of her new home, Olive turned to look at her parents. Her father stood much taller than her, his dark hair and olive-brown skin taking on a more honeyed hue in the afternoon sun. Despite the age shown in the faint wrinkles on his face, he was still strong and well-built, which her mother often told him when she thought her daughter was out of earshot. In contrast, Olive’s mother was more than a head shorter than her, but just as fit as her dad. Though only a few years behind her husband, with her perfectly highlighted brunette bob and a tanned, unlined complexion, she appeared many years younger.
To an outsider, they were a close-knit family, though the difference between Olive’s appearance compared to her parents was striking. With long blonde hair, fair skin and eyes matching the cyan stains on her fingers, she bore no physical resemblance to them. So, when her mum and dad had gently told her the truth about their family five years ago, she had not been shocked. Olive had already intuited it. Even if she hadn’t been consciously aware, her subconscious mind had delivered this revelation years before.
Olive had been an infant when Thomas and Sarah Ullman adopted her. Being unable to have their own children, they couldn’t believe it when the adoption agency rang them with the news. They had known that the adoption process could take many years and it was unlikely that they would be able to adopt in Australia, and hence would likely have to look overseas. Yet after only 10 months of registering with an agency, they’d been offered a baby, one whose mother had died during childbirth. There was no father named on the birth certificate, no other family nor next of kin. No information, except for a name – Olive – chosen by the birth mother before her death. It was a blessing to the Ullmans. A blessing they accepted with gratitude. A blessing they did not want to risk losing by asking questions.
The Ullmans had taken their baby girl home, honouring her birth mother’s wishes by calling her Olive, a name deeply connected to the symbolism of peace and balance. They added two more, their last name and a middle name inspired by the brilliance of their new baby’s eyes – Sapphire. Olive Sapphire Ullman.
Despite the abundance of unconditional love the Ullmans gave to Olive, she had never really felt deserving of their devotion, unable to shake the bone-deep feeling that she did not belong. Having adoptive parents who wanted her and loved her could never fill the void created from losing her biological mother and the loss of ancestral knowledge resulting from her death. Though she tried to push those thoughts away, they plagued her at the same time every year. Since the day she had been told the truth, Olive never wanted to celebrate her birthday, as it also marked the passing of her mother.
Olive felt the gentle squeeze of her mum’s hand around hers, breaking the sombre silence which filled her thoughts. “Let’s go inside,” she persuaded.
As the family walked towards the front door, it was clear that this early 20th century farmhouse definitely needed some love to restore it to its former glory. It was just the kind of house Olive’s mum loved, and her dad had been delighted to indulge her, knowing she had a designer’s eye and the energy to take on the renovation project. Stepping onto the front verandah across numerous cracked decking boards and avoiding the various holes, they finally stood outside the front door, which hung crookedly from rusted hinges.
“Awesome,” Olive mumbled sarcastically.
Olive’s mum had the honour of placing the key into the front door for the very first time. “Why don’t we all turn the key together?” she suggested.
With her arms still tightly crossed against her body and her face blank, Olive made it clear she wouldn’t be contributing to this family moment. Looking to her father for moral support, she whispered to him snarkily, “She can add this door to her list of unloved items needing urgent attention.” He shot her a look of warning, less than impressed with her tone.
Inside the home, the abundance of boxes proved the removalist had a much earlier start on the journey to Buxton than the Ullmans. They had been and gone before the family had arrived, following Olive’s mum’s instructions to put each clearly marked box in its correct room. The tremendous number of boxes needing unpacking and sorting was overwhelming, so Olive wandered off to become acquainted with her new environment while her parents went to unpack the most needed items.
Olive walked first into the L-shaped loungeroom, which was cold and dark despite the multiple windows. She surmised the lounge faced south, offering little opportunity for sunlight or warmth to permeate its space. A weathered pot-bellied wood stove occupied the corner where two walls met, a nostalgic nod to the past. Her gaze settled on the stove, fixating on the rusty interior flue, before her attention was abruptly diverted by a series of scratching noises from the ceiling above the stove. What the hell is that? A shiver of repulsion traversed her skin, leaving her feeling unsettled.
Pulled by the allure of a brighter space to the north of the lounge, Olive’s gaze briefly brushed the minuscule yet functional original kitchen to her left as she passed by. Continuing on, she unlatched two glazed internal doors crafted from rich red cedar, entering a room radiating warmth and light. The sun streamed in through expansive floor-to-ceiling sliding doors, nearly encompassing the entire northern wall.
Peering through the glass panes of the back sliding doors, Olive scrunched her face tight at the sight of the overgrown jungle of the backyard. Vines snaked along the decking boards, and a sapling had taken root in the middle of the deck, prompting a scowl on her face.
Walking back through the cedar doors, Olive screamed as a large brown cockroach scattered across the kitchen floor as she walked past.
“Dad!”
“What? Are you okay?” Olive’s dad yelled from another room.
“There’s a friggin’ huge cockie in the kitchen!”
“Good to know.” Olive’s scowl deepened.
Following the direction of her father’s voice, Olive walked to the west of the loungeroom to what appeared to be a bedroom. Greeted by the smell of mothballs and mouldy furnishings, she watched as her parents attempted to put together their wooden bed frame.
With her parents claiming this room for themselves, Olive walked towards the front door, near the staircase and started climbing, each step groaning under her weight as she ascended. At the top she saw a hallway landing with bedrooms at either side. Following the sunlight, she stepped into the bedroom on the western side which was warm with the afternoon sun. She frowned at the small black wardrobe, then looked up to cathedral ceilings decorated with ancient spider webs where no feather duster could possibly reach.
Crossing her fingers, Olive turned towards the last bedroom. Her heart sank when purple walls and ceiling greeted her. Despite this room being cooler, which would be better in Summer, Olive could not bring herself to dwell in an all-purple room. The West room may have had a black cupboard but at least the ceiling was white and walls beige. Looks like beige is my best option.
Olive marched downstairs to her parents’ room, where they were arguing over which end of the wooden bed frame should go up against the wall.
“Can I go for a run?” Olive interrupted. “I won’t go far, and I’ll start unpacking when I get back.”
“Uhhhh…” her mum inhaled slowly, the idea of her daughter running in an unfamiliar neighbourhood making her nervous. “Ah, okay, yes – but only for thirty minutes, and stick to the streets. No bush adventure jogs without Dad.” Surprised, Olive grabbed her brand-new smart phone and ear buds and rushed out the door before her dad had a chance to protest. Deciding to not bother warming up, she started jogging, heading south along Buxton Avenue.
