Karen Comer

Collecting Stories

Fleishman is in trouble – book review

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Fleishman is in trouble by debut novelist Taffy Brodesser-Akner is the sort of book you want to discuss with someone – as you’re reading it, as soon as you’ve finished reading it – perfect bookclub material.

Toby Fleishman is a New York hepatologist with a recently separated wife and two children. The story begins with a newfound sense of sexual freedom for Fleishman – he’s free to indulge in all sorts of sexual encounters – online, in person, dates that work, dates that don’t work. He’s almost giddy with it – as a five-foot-five Jewish man who was overweight as a child, all of a sudden there are women who want him.

But his ex-wife Rachael goes missing. She’s dropped the kids off a day earlier than expected without telling him, gone off to a yoga weekend retreat and hasn’t come back.

Fleishman navigates the difficult world of his medical work, his two children (thank goodness for summer camps), his missing ex-wife and his forays into dating.

Brodesser-Aknew explores relationships not only through Fleishman’s marriage but through the stories of the women he dates, as well as his two best friends, Libby (going through her own existential crisis in her marriage to a perfectly nice man) and Seth (never committed, constantly dating, recently engaged). Fleishman becomes ‘the wife’, as his divorce lawyer tells him – he earns less money than Rachael and he has more responsibilities with the kids.

it was interesting to observe the gradual decline of Fleishman’s interest in online dating apps, once his twelve-year-old daughter received her phone. There’s a small incident with her and a photo, which shocks Fleishman and makes him question his own obsession with the photos women on dating apps have sent him.

The narrator is Libby, Fleishman’s friend from college days. She appears and disappears, leaving the reader a tad bemused that she pops up out of nowhere to insert herself in the story. I did wonder how Libby could possibly know so intimately Fleishman’s thoughts and feelings, let alone the nuanced and detailed encounters with Rachael, his kids, his co-workers?

And yet her invisibility in parts of the novel echo not only Rachael’s disappearance but also the general theme of women’s invisibility throughout the novel.

…whatever kind of woman you are, even when you’re a lot of kinds of women, you’re still always just a woman, which is to say you’re always a little bit less than a man…

Rachael is only seen through Fleishman’s eyes for the majority of the novel – it is only towards the end that we catch a glimpse through Libby of Rachael. While Fleishman is an empathetic character, a doctor who ‘sees’ his patients, an involved and tender dad, we realise at the end of the novel that perhaps his view of his marriage (and his friendship with Libby) was not entirely accurate.

See – so much to discuss!

Cate Kennedy – workshop

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During Melbourne’s last lockdown of five days, I was supposed to attend a writing workshop with Australian short story writer and poet Cate Kennedy at the Wheeler Centre in the city. She kindly offered to run the workshop online. So that Saturday I spent the day in my study looking at a screen of the unknown faces of my fellow participants as well as Cate’s fabulously detailed slides.

I have long been a fan of Cate’s short stories and poems. Her poems about the miscarriage of her son and the birth of her daughter are heartbreaking. Her two short story collections, Dark Roots and Like a house on fire, have stayed with me long after I finished reading them. Cate focuses on ordinary people, and she shines a light on them to show both their vulnerability and strength.

Her characters are us – a woman organising herself and her family before she goes to a doctor’s appointment to have a lump checked, a man making poor decisions after his partner has left him, a woman struggling at work on her first day back after maternity leave, a young girl rebelling against her mother’s family Christmas photo, a young cleaner befriending an elderly man in hospital. But it’s never about just these events – there’s a subtext of anger or loss or relationship concerns which adds a quiet background hum that sometimes rises to a roar of frustration or despair. Cate discussed the idea that conflict, even though small, brings the inner life of characters to the surface.

Cate was generous with sharing her knowledge and experience with a set of slides which whizzed us through the different elements of creating stories. ‘Emerging writers always have wonderful ideas,’ she told us, ‘it’s about the execution.’ Too true.

Cate’s latest short story collection, Like a house on fire, is on the Yr 12 VCE English curriculum. My Yr 12 son’s first SAC (School Assessed Coursework) was to write an addition or adaption of one of Cate’s stories. It’s such a wonderful opportunity for students to try to understand another human being, through reading about ordinary people’s circumstances and choices and then writing a response. Cate’s stories can be so subtle, that students are encouraged to look at her characters and empathise with them while they imagine different possibilities for them.

What does that elderly man need at the end of his life? What sort of person will that young girl, rebelling against her mother, grow up to be? Cate told us,

The story is the transformation of the narrator.”

So how does that elderly man change the young cleaner’s life? How will that young girl grow up to parent her own children?

Writing is about imagining different scenarios, putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes, daydreaming about different possibilities for ourselves, reinventing ourselves as characters. Cate urged us to go into the ‘vortex of doom’, to face any resistance we have on the page, to allow the secrets of our characters and their inner worlds to float up to the surface, to be examined in the light. Therein lies transformation.

The wonderful thing about students studying these short stories is that hopefully, hopefully, hopefully, they gain insight into their own lives. That in writing their additions or adaptions, they look beneath the surface of Cate’s characters and see what they really want, how they strive to reach it, and how they transform when often they don’t get what they want but instead what they need. In fiction – and life.

Thank you very much for your kind comments last week – I’m glad to be back too in such wonderful company!

Dear readers, it’s been a while

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Dear readers, it’s been a while since I last posted. My website updated itself in December and there were problems that seemed insurmountable because it was December and there were work deadlines and Christmas deadlines and general December busyness.

Thank you to the lovely Nic from Planning with Kids who helped me with the technical side of my blog as well as giving me a big pep talk for continuing on!

There is news to catch up on!

Reading

I’ve been reading a lovely pile of books – my usual mix of fiction, non-fiction, children, young adult and poetry. Standout books include Seth Godin’s The practice (non-fiction), Cate Kennedy’s The taste of river water (poetry), The forty rules of love by Elif Shafak (novel) and The girl who became a tree by Joseph Coelho (young adult). Reviews for some of these books coming!

Editing

I have a mix of projects at the moment which makes my editing life varied and exciting. I’ve almost finished editing a fabulously detailed family history of six generations dating back to Scotland in the 1850s, I’ve proofread a book about wills which has prompted me to have conversations with family members, I’m about to start reading an exciting crime novel for a general reader’s report and I edited a wonderfully lyrical essay on nature.

Writing

My first middle-grade verse novel is under submission so I’ve been researching for my young adult verse novel. I’ve almost finished this now, so I’m ready to look at the structure of the first draft. Are my key scenes in the right places? Do they match up with my research? Do my two main characters meet up at the right moment?

Facilitating

I’m now the facilitator for the online Springfield writers’ group. This is a talented, oh so talented group of women who are writing poems, essays, novels, short stories, memoirs, non-fiction. We meet once a week to discuss two writers’ work and the creative collaboration in this group is a tangible thing.

Creating

Apart from creating a weekly menu of lunches and dinners and snacks which lately have NOT been as creative as my other pursuits, I’ve been teaching myself to weave. Last year during the lockdowns, I found quilting and sewing to be an antidote to the news cycle. I have a beautiful weaving kit and I am making a random, unplanned small weaving in soft dusky pinks, creams and burgundies.

Tutoring

I am constantly telling my children how lucky they are to have me as a mother but it’s only when I cook their favourite meal or help them with an English essay that they truly appreciate me! Mr 17 is in year 12 this year and we have already spent some time together talking through his first SAC. I also read through a few of his mates’ pieces – one of them named a character Karen. I am not sure whether to take it as a compliment or an insult – the character was rather annoying!

Your news …

Please tell me what you have been reading, writing or creating – I’d love to know.

The Dutch house by Ann Patchett – book review

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Ann Patchett is one of my favourite American novelists. I’m immediately drawn into her books, whether her book is set in the Amazon (State of wonder), about a group of terrorists who befriend their captives (Bel Canto) or her collection of essays (This is the story of a happy marriage).

Her latest novel is The Dutch House, set in Pennsylvania. There are no terrorists, no lost characters in the Amazon. In fact, this is a relatively quiet book with considerably less tension than her previous novels. The only thing at stake is a house, not someone’s life.

But as in all of Patchett’s novels, readers are immediately drawn into the lives of her characters. The Dutch House is told from Danny’s point of view, and follows the story of Danny and his older sister Maeve growing up in the Dutch house and their eventual dismissal from it. (I’m not spoiling anything – this is all revealed in pieces within the first chapter).

And perhaps that’s Patchett’s skill – as a reader you know what’s coming but you’re still going to turn each page for the sheer pleasure of reading her words.

Patchett is also a bookshop owner, and she has a passionate commitment to ensuring her hometown, Nashville, is well supplied with books.

There’s a great conversation between Patchett and Elizabeth Gilbert through the New York Library conversations and an interview with Patchett in The Guardian where she talks about the modern-day fairy tale qualities of The Dutch House and its theme of grief and loss.

This is definitely one of my favourite books for the year!

Sea Hearts – book review

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I’m always happy to crawl into bed at the end of the day and read my book but I found myself thinking about bedtime at 4pm, just because I was looking forward to reading my book! This was a library book called Sea Hearts by Margo Lanagan. I reviewed Lanagan’s short stories, Singing my sister down and other stories, here – and was in awe of the way she uses language to paint pictures.

Her novel, Sea Hearts, is worthy of the same praise. It’s the story of a small island called Rollrock Island, told through several characters’ viewpoints. One of the characters, Misskaella, a misfit of a small girl even in her own family, realises that she can use her hidden powers to draw a girl out of a seal. But not just any girl – these girls are bewitchingly beautiful, gentle, serene and become lovely mams to their boys. The young men of Rollrock Island use all their savings to buy a bride, and eventually, the original women of Rollrock leave, broken-hearted as their husbands and sons buy themselves a sea-wife.

The story is told over a few generations, so the changes to this small community are widespread and unforgiving. Regardless of what you think of a witch being able to draw girls out of the hearts of seals and men who are enchanted and cannot turn away from them, this story shows the way something can pervade a small village and change the lives of everyone, no matter who thinks they can stay strong to the old ways.

This quote comes from Dominic Mallet, when he first sees his sea-wife – as reluctant as he is to meet her and forget his fiancee.

‘Kitty Flaming, I told myself desperately, my wife-to-be. Kitty. But the words were nothing against Misskaella’s singing. Kitty was nothing, a frail flag blown to tatters by a magical wind. Her face blurred and faded in my memory, while the seal-girl’s grew clearer and clearer in the moonlight, serene, dark eyed, full lipped, a pale oval, her night-black hair moving around it, breathing of warm sea. She watched me soberly, fearlessly, unsmiling; she could no more look away than I could. No one, no woman or man, had ever regarded me so steadily, so trustingly.’

It all seemed so dreamlike, yet so realistic, to me. The island life, with its red-haired inhabitants living there together for so long, suddenly interrupted and disturbed by first one, then another, then another seal-girl with their enchanting faces and bodies so that any Rollrock woman with her round face and body and flaming red hair would look so much less than, so ordinary. The witch Misskaella became richer and richer as first the young men, then those men who were already husbands, begged and bribed her to create them a sea-wife. What happens a generation later is startling and surprising, yet also inevitable. The book is almost a poem with its language and the way Lanagan paints pictures, but it’s also an anthropological exercise in what happens to a small village and its people when change occurs.

I read it as an adult novel and later discovered it’s marketed towards young adults. Either way, it’s a great read.

Even though it’s only February, I can see this might be one of my top ten books for the year! Unless I like some of Lanagan’s other books better …

 

Naming – a short story

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Stringybark

A couple of years ago, I had an adult short story published by Stringybark Press in one of their anthologies. It’s part of the collection of modern fairy tales I’m working on. I thought I’d share it here for you to enjoy!

Naming

I watch them every morning from my bedroom window at the front of the house. I kneel on my bed and pull the blind up a little bit so I can see them. They stand between the two cars parked in their driveway. Rob wears a suit with a shirt and tie. Julie wears a pretty dress. Sometimes her hair is in a ponytail, sometimes she wears it loose. They reach towards each other, and he puts his hand on her back and she puts her hand around his neck and they kiss. Kiss, kiss, kiss, for a really long time. Sometimes they say goodbye in a slightly different spot and I can’t see them properly through the bushes between our house and theirs. But I always hear Rob’s car drive off first down the street, then I hear Julie’s car leave. Then I open my blind all the way.

They are so nice, our neighbours. Julie works at the office for a big bakery and always leaves a cardboard box full of bakery sweets, like jam donuts and apple scrolls and custard tarts at our front door on Friday evenings. So now Friday is dessert night. It used to be Saturday, but now it’s Friday.

Fridays are a good day now. They used to be a bad day, because we had sport at school. Well, I have sport at my school. My younger brother, Dan, has sport at his school on Monday and Wednesday. I go to a different school. The sign at the front of my school says it is a special school for children with special needs, so all children can reach their potential. I know this is not true. Because some of the children here have already reached their potential. Sam, for example, is never going to learn any more about maths. He knows some maths, but he’s never going to learn any more and he’s fourteen already. I am only twelve, but my potential for maths is still growing. I heard Mr Tallin tell Mum that I have great potential for maths, maybe up to Year 10. But my potential for sport is not good – I can only catch the ball three out of ten times, and not every sports day. Just a good sports day.

This Friday, when Julie comes over to give Dan and me the box of bakery treats, she tells us she has some news. Some exciting news. She and Rob are going to have a baby. Mum gives her a big hug and makes her come inside to sit at the table and tell us all about it. Dan goes outside to play basketball – he always practises after school until Mum tells him it is homework time – but I stay inside.

‘Is this Julie’s potential, Mum? Is this the best she can do? Is this why it is really exciting?’

Mum and Julie smile a special sort of smile at each other. ‘Well, Pat, having a baby is an amazing thing to do,’ says Julie, folding her hands on our scratched kitchen table. ‘But I think I can have a baby and still do some of my work potential at the same time.’

I open the bakery box to see what Julie has given us today. Lemon tarts, jam donuts and fruit buns. I like the donuts best.

‘Actually, it’s Paddy today. My name is Paddy.’

Julie nods politely but I know she doesn’t understand. My name is very important to me. It’s Patrick David Lamond. Sometimes I like to be called Pat, sometimes Paddy and some days Patrick. Sometimes Boy-o, but only by Dad. Patrick is for a bad day, Pat is for an ok day and Paddy is for a good day.

And I can’t quite work out what Julie means. So I put it in the box in my head marked ‘Adults’ – it’s for things that adults say that I don’t understand. There are a lot of things in that box. But I do know one thing – kiss, kiss, kiss does mean a baby. Lisa in my class told me that. She knows a lot about babies because she has three younger brothers and sisters at her house. And she is always playing with dolls in the home corner. Sometimes she makes me play too. I have to be the dad, and hold the baby while she cooks dinner. She even showed me how to change the baby’s nappy and pat it gently so it would fall asleep. Lisa can’t write very well because she doesn’t hold her pencil properly but she knows how to hold a baby.

‘What about names, Julie?’ asks Mum, bringing two cups of tea to the table.

Julie shrugs her shoulders and laughs. ‘Oh, Rob and I have a list of girls’ names we like, so that’s sorted. But we like completely different boys’ names. So we are just calling the baby Rumplestiltskin for now!’

After Julie has her baby boy, she stays at home and doesn’t go out to work any more and doesn’t give us boxes of bakery treats on Fridays. So Fridays are bad days again because there is sport and there are no treats. Dan thinks Fridays are bad too, because he has no sport and no treats.

Rob goes back to work but Julie doesn’t kiss him between the cars any more. Sometimes I see Julie in her dressing gown holding the baby at the front door, making the baby wave his little hand. Sometimes the curtains are still closed in their bedroom window after I come home from school, and Mum says that Julie might be very tired because the baby might have cried in the night. Julie often comes over to our house with the baby, and sometimes she cries a bit and sometimes the baby cries a bit, and Mum makes her a cup of tea and holds the baby so Julie can go back home and have a shower. She doesn’t wear her pretty dresses any more. Usually, she wears tracksuit pants and a t-shirt.

One day after school I hear Julie’s baby crying and crying. Mum is in the middle of cooking something complicated in the kitchen so she can’t help Julie. I go next door and open the back door. Julie is crying on the couch and the baby is crying, too. She cries even more when she sees me.

‘I can hold the baby for you while you have a shower,’ I say. This is what Mum says.

Julie cries some more.

I walk over to the couch and put my hands out, and Julie gives me the baby. She needs two hands to find the tissues and blow her nose. The baby cries some more but I pat it gently just like Lisa at school showed me. I even sing the traditional lullaby Mrs Blackwell taught us last year.

Sleep, baby, sleep,
Thy father guards the sheep,
Thy mother shakes the dreamland tree,
And from it fall sweet dreams for thee.
Sleep, baby, sleep.

 The baby stops crying. Julie stops crying.

‘I think I have good potential to make the baby stop crying.’

‘I think you do, too, Pat,’ says Julie, and she smiles.

‘Paddy, are you in here? You shouldn’t be bothering Julie.’ It is Mum, standing at Julie’s back door.

‘Oh, no, Catherine, he’s fine. Pat’s helping me out – he’s just stopped all the tears!’

‘Well, as long as he’s helping and not bothering,’ says Mum. She uses her strict voice but she smiles at me. It always confuses me when she does that. And usually she does this when there are other people around. Is she happy with me or cross with me? I can never work it out. Something else to go in the ‘Adults’ box in my mind.

Julie rummages around in the pantry and finds me a chocolate biscuit.

It is a good day.

After a week, I go over to visit Julie to see if I still have my baby potential. The baby is lying on a blue and green rug on the floor, and Julie is waving a rattle in front of him. She lets me hold the rattle and I make a jingling noise for the baby.

‘Hi, Rumplestiltskin,’ I say to him. I know Rumplestiltskin isn’t his name but I don’t like his name so that’s what I call him.

‘See? I still have my baby potential,’ I tell Julie.

She smiles at me and starts to say something but the phone rings. When she answers it, she says lots of words like ‘I agree,’ and ‘Mmm,’ and ‘That all sounds possible.’

I don’t say anything because Mum has taught Dan and me that you don’t talk while someone is on the phone. I just sit next to Rumplestiltskin to teach him that you don’t make a lot of noise when someone is on the phone.

When Julie says, ‘Bye,’ and puts the phone down, she sits opposite me on the rug and touches the baby’s cheek.

‘Gosh, that was someone from my work on the phone, Pat. They want me to start work soon, maybe some work from home next week.’

I just keep waving the baby’s rattle in front of him. Sometimes adults talk like this, and I don’t know what to say. I only know what to say because I say what Mum or Dad or my teachers say.

Rumplestiltskin says nothing too but he smiles at me.

‘You will make an excellent babysitter one day, Pat, you are just so responsible.’

‘Thank you. Can I have another chocolate biscuit, please? And can you please call me Paddy today? Today, I am Paddy.’

Julie doesn’t have any chocolate biscuits today but she gives me a lamington. A lamington is even better than a chocolate biscuit because it is bigger and still has chocolate in it.

Later that week, I visit Julie and Rumplestiltskin again. Julie smiles when she sees me.

‘Come in, Pat, come in. I’m guessing you want to see my little man? He’s just lying on his rug, all wrapped up, ready for his sleep. You can have just a little look at him while I check something on the computer, and then he can have his sleep.’

Julie walks into the study and I look at Rumplestiltskin lying on the blue and green baby rug, then I pick him up to make sure I still have my baby potential. He looks at me and does not cry. Then I wonder if he has potential. Will he be a maths potential baby like me or a catching the ball potential baby like Dan or will he have looking after babies potential like Lisa?

I decide that all babies have the potential for walking. Well, except for Olivia and Bella and Luka who come to school in wheelchairs and can’t walk at all. Maybe I should check if Julie’s baby has the potential for walking.

I hold up the baby by his arms and let him dangle down. He is all wrapped up and I can’t see his feet. I lie him down again on the floor and unwrap him – there is a lot of material that is tucked around him. Once it is off, I can see his little feet, sticking out of the bottoms of his tiny white suit. I can hear Julie in the study, talking to someone on the phone.

‘That’s better, Rumple. Now you can walk.’

I stand over him, holding him under his arms, his feet just touching the floor.

‘Come on, Rumplestiltskin,’ I say in a gentle voice. ‘You can walk.’

He starts to cry. I move him around a bit and hold his hands with mine so his little arms are stretched over his head. He is so little, his head doesn’t even reach my knees.

I bend down over him, still holding his tiny hands. I use my really encouraging voice, the voice that Mrs Breen uses with me when she really, really wants me to catch the ball. ‘You can do it, Rumple, I believe in you. You can walk.’

But he doesn’t walk and cries louder.

His hands start to slip from mine. Too late, I remember that catching things is not my potential.

Julie comes rushing in from the study as Rumplestiltskin crumples onto the floor.

‘Oh, what the hell are you doing, Pat? Oh, precious one,’ she cries, scooping the baby into her arms. ‘Mummy’s here, it’s ok, you won’t get hurt.’

‘You’d better go, Pat. You can’t stay here any more.’

‘Actually, it’s Patrick, my name is Patrick today.’

Three interesting female characters – three interesting books

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What makes an interesting female character? How do writers create a character who is relatable, but also unique and memorable? How do writers create a book that readers will pass on to their friends and will feature in every bookclub across the country?

I’ve recently read three adult books about three different female protagonists by women writers in three different countries which have all amazed me with their insightful writing, beautiful language but mainly the strong voices of the characters. All books had themes of connection, loneliness and healing.

  • Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine by Gail Honeyman.

This debut novel is written in first person from the perspective of Eleanor Oliphant. And as you can infer from the justification word ‘completely’ in the title, she’s not so fine after all. She’s a twenty-nine year-old woman living alone in Glasgow, working as a finance clerk. Her weekdays and weekends run with monotonous certainty until she comes into contact with three men – a singer she falls in love with who doesn’t know of her existence, Sammy, an older man who has an accident in the street and Raymond, the new IT guy at work. In Eleanor’s words:

A philosophical question: if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? And if a woman who’s wholly alone occasionally talks to a pot plant, is she certifiable? I’m confident that it is perfectly normal to talk to oneself occasionally. It’s not as though I’m expecting a reply. I’m fully aware that Polly is a houseplant.

In an interview, Honeyman said that she ‘tried to ensure that Eleanor was never self-pitying, so that there was space for the reader to draw their own conclusions and, hopefully, to empathise with her.’ I think she succeeded!

  • The trauma cleaner by Sarah Krasnostein.

A non-fiction title, this book has a larger than life character with Sandra Pankhurst. She was born Peter, a baby boy adopted by a couple who had a daughter but no sons and couldn’t have any more children. They did go on to have two sons, and Peter suffered from his violent father. Peter left home, married and had two sons of his own. But in his thirties, he slowly transitions into Sandra. Sandra had many jobs, including drag queen, sex worker and business owner. It is her job as a trauma cleaner, someone who cleans up accidents, sorts out hoarding issues and deals with death scenes, that is perhaps her most interesting job. Krasnostein has written a moving and empathetic account of Sandra’s life. It took her about four years of following Sandra to her clients to uncover most of the details of Sandra’s life – there are many gaps as Sandra admits the drugs she took may have affected her memory. There is a graphic account of a rape scene which may be difficult to read. This extract comes from a visit to Marilyn, a hoarder –

‘You’ve got bugs on your bed,’ Sandra says matter-of-factly.

‘They don’t seem to do any harm,’ Marilyn answers, and turns to the pile of mail that Sandra has prepared for her to sort through. ‘I’ve got mail here I haven’t bothered to open.’

Having cleared more space on the bed, Sandra now finds another silk kaftan creased against the bedspread. She tries to smooth the deep wrinkles out with her palm, reunited it with its belt, arranges it on a hanger and swoops it back into the closet. 

Krasnostein writes that ‘the opposite of trauma is not the absence of trauma. The opposite of trauma is order, proportion; it is everything in its place.’

 

  • Radiant shimmering light by Sarah Selecky

A gentle satire, this novel set in Canada and the US lightly mocks the social media world where every turmeric latte is photographed in the best light and newsletters are sent out to reflect the glossy surface, rather than the banal or the debris of real life. Lillian Quick, forty-years-old, is a struggling artist who paints pet aura portraits. She connects with her long-lost cousin, Eleven, who is a gifted speaker and entrepreneur in women’s empowerment circles. All of a sudden, Lilian’s life changes – she’s earning money, she’s part of a team, she’s being supported to be her best self in her own empowerment journey. But is it real and will it last?

Selecky balances the gentle fun of the perfect-yourself, open-yourself-to-possibilities, you-are-beautiful-as-you-are culture with razor-sharp insightfulness and empathy. I found myself laughing and hoping and caring all in the same sentence. The newsletters, texts and social media posts scattered throughout the book both advance Lilian’s story and act as a wise social commentary.

I close my eyes and imagine warm light radiating out of me. I picture the woman this ticket belongs to. It helps to be specific: she is wearing a black coat, a wool scarf, and velvet gloves. I send out my light and connect to the morphogenetic field using my heart energy. I picture her walking to meet me halfway. She is thrilled. This is a wish come true for her.

In an interview with PRISM International, Selecky says: ‘We live online now. We stare into the face of a screen more than we look into other human faces. We do everything through our phone – everything. I wanted to create the visceral experience of what it means to live online. The constant connection/disconnection, and what that feels like in the human body. That’s what this story is about—connection.’

Selecky runs an online writing school – she acknowledges the irony of encouraging writers to disconnect to discover their writing voice through an online writing school! I have completed one of her courses – she taught me about the importance of having a relationship with writing, rather than looking at it as a tool or a business or something separate from yourself.

I loved Eleanor’s fall from her routined life into a messy heap on the floor, then her slow rebuilding into a better version of herself, but always, always, her strong, quirky self, untarnished by the culture around her. I admired Sandra’s strength and her meticulous attention to detail and her ability to talk to anyone. I loved Lilian’s innocent observations and her struggle to balance the digital world with the real world.  Three strong, memorable characters from three fascinating books – happy reading!

Adult fiction – Christmas ideas and a giveaway

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Finally, it’s time to talk about adult fiction books for Christmas! Some people like to read something light and frothy at the beach over summer, some like a thrilling page-turner, others like to read something with depth. I’ve tried to cater for all types of summer readers in the list below.

Ache by Eliza Henry-Jones – Despite all the hype about fast-paced, page-turning books, I love a gentle quiet story. Eliza writes with sensitivity and depth – her debut Australian novel, In the quiet, moved me to tears. Ache focuses on the devastation that can occur within communities after a trauma like a bushfire. This is the story of four strong women within four generations, focusing on Annie, who goes back to her home to help after the bushfire. She grieves for her recently deceased grandmother, is exasperated by her mother and cares for her daughter. You can read my interview with Eliza here.

My name is Lucy Barton/ Anything is possible by Elizabeth Strout – I’m so glad I read both these books this year. I’m going to borrow the rest of her books from the library over summer. Strout writes with so much perception and empathy. My name is Lucy Barton is a novel, and Anything is possible could be read either as a novel about the people in Lucy Barton’s hometown or as a collection of short stories about characters whose lives intersect. It really doesn’t matter which book you read first, but you’ll probably want to read both of them. Strout’s books, like Eliza Henry-Jones’ books, are quiet and they shine with such knowledge about the human condition.

Force of nature by Jane Harper – this is the second book by Harper. Her first book, The dry, sold well in Australia and is going to be made into a film. The protagonist from The dry is also the lead character in Force of Nature but it’s not a sequel so can be read independently. This one is a page-turning, suspenseful read about a group of four women who are on a corporate bushwalking event – but only three return. The book is told from several perspectives which makes it interesting to read as the story unfolds.

The choke by Sofie Laguna – this book is a worthy successor to The eye of the sheep, which won Sofie the Miles Franklin award in 2015. Again, we have a child protagonist in ten-year-old Justine, who lives with her Pop and sometimes her half-brothers. Her Mum disappeared years ago and her Dad blows in and out. Sofie does a fabulous job in creating a strong world, where everything is seen through Justine’s eyes. I found myself reading it with my hand almost on my heart – please don’t let this happen to Justine… But despite the grimness of her world, there is hope, particularly through the wonderful characters.

Truly, madly, guilty by Liane Moriarty – if you haven’t already read this one, this is great for light summer reading. The story focuses on the friendship between two women, Clementine and Erika. We know that something happened at the barbeque at Erika’s neighbours’ house, but we don’t know what exactly it is. The suspense was definitely drawn out for much longer than it needed to, but Moriarty is fabulously wicked and insightful with her character descriptions which pull you right into her fictional world. All the characters are presented with light and shade, so as readers you both empathise with them and feel frustrated in equal parts. And if you haven’t read any of Moriarty’s earlier books, they would all make fabulous summer reading, too.

Our souls at night by Kent Haruf – this is a lovely, gentle read about Addie and Louis who have been neighbours for years, still living in their family homes after their respective partners have died and their children moved out. It’s a beautiful love story, full of shared stories. Their conversations offer hope and illuminate the everyday courage and resilience of ordinary people.

The passage of love by Alex Miller – this is one I haven’t read yet but I’m looking forward to reading, despite reading a slightly negative review. I enjoyed Miller’s earlier book, Lovesong, so I’m keen to see what this one is like. This synopsis is taken from the book –

At twenty-one years, Robert Crofts leaves his broken dreams in Far North Queensland, finally stopping in Melbourne almost destitute. It’s there he begins to understand how books and writing might be the saving of him. They will be how he leaves his mark on the world. He also begins to understand how many obstacles there will be to thwart his ambition.

When Robert is introduced to Lena Soren, beautiful, rich and educated, his life takes a very different path. But in the intimacy of their connection lies an unknowability that both torments and tantalises as Robert and Lena long for something that neither can provide for the other.

In a rich blend of thoughtful and beautifully observed writing, the lives of a husband and wife are laid bare in their passionate struggle to engage with their individual creativity.

The museum of modern love by Heather Rose – this book about art and love won the Stella prize this year. It’s a novel but it’s based on Marina Abramovic, the Serbian artist who spent 75 days in a New York gallery, sitting with strangers, for her exhibition, The artist is present. There are a few different perspectives – Arky Levin, the composer whose wife is no longer with him, Jane, whose husband died a little while ago, Marina herself, and a few minor characters. The whole concept of sitting still and gazing intensely into different strangers’ eyes, over and over, for 75 days is astounding, and Rose’s book does it justice. Other reviewers, like my friend Carolyn, have noted disappointments in the New York setting – mobile phones instead of cell phones for example. It is a literary novel, with frequent switches between character viewpoints.

The art of wellbeing by Meredith Gaston – this non-fiction book would make a delightful present. I’ve already bought it for someone and I’m hoping a copy might find its way into my stocking! Gaston is an illustrator, and has written and illustrated a couple of books like The art of gratitude. The art of wellbeing continues her same, unmistakable style with gorgeous girls outlined in black pen with splashes of colour. There are recipes for smoothies and activating nuts, as well as reflections on mindfulness. The sections are called lovely names such as nourish, blossom, comfort, energise. This would be a beautiful book to dip in and out of during summer.

The time traveler’s wife by Audrey Niffenegger – this book was one of the most original, amazing love stories I’ve read. Henry is a time traveller – he has been since he was a small boy. His wife Clare meets him when she is young and he is one of his older time travelling selves. Henry’s life is unorthodox and only Clare at first knows he time travels. The book flicks between the different times and different ages of both Henry and Clare. As a reader, I had a sense of impending doom and the ending was sad. It’s one of those books that you want to read quickly because it’s such a page-turner but you also want to read slowly because you don’t want it to finish. The book was published in 2003 so it’s been around for a while, and there is a movie now. I can’t decide whether I want to see the movie or not – it might completely spoil the story for me!

Please pass this post on to anyone who may be looking for suggestions for adult fiction books to read or buy over Christmas.

I have a copy of The Choke by Sofie Laguna to send to one lucky reader. Keep it yourself or give it as a Christmas present. To enter, please make sure you have subscribed to my blog and leave a comment on this post with a reading suggestion for me over the summer holidays. Comments must be posted by next Thursday 14th December. The winner will be announced next Friday 15th December in that day’s blog post. Good luck!

Three strong, original books

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I’ve been reading quite a few wonderful books lately so I thought I’d bundle a few together in a review. I have so many library books teetering in a pile on my bedside table that I’m worried I’ll be decapitated during the night!

I’ve reviewed an adult novel by a well-known Australian writer, a young adult novel by a US novelist and a debut children’s novel. All three books had strong female characters, with so much determination and courage.

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  • Beauty in thorns by Kate Forsyth (adult historical fiction) – I am such a fan of Kate’s. She teaches a wonderful writing course in Sydney through the Australian Writers Centre on plotting, and her latest book is testament to her ability to weave together threads from a few stories and timelines. It’s set in the Pre-Raphaelite era and focuses on the lives of a few artists  – Ned Burne-Jones, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and William Morris, and the women who loved them. The story focuses mainly on the women – and they were a talented, creative force as well. I didn’t enjoy this book as much as Kate’s previous books, perhaps because it felt that she was following the stories in a chronological manner, rather than crafting a story. But the characters are compelling, the settings evocative and Kate’s writing is as rich and descriptive as usual.

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  • The girl from everywhere by Heidi Heilig (young adult fiction) – a friend recommended this book to me, and I’m glad she did. It’s about a sixteen-year-old girl called Nix Song, who is a Navigator on a pirate ship with the ability to follow maps into the margins, into different countries and different timelines. Led by her father the Captain, and supported by a crew of time refugees, she discovers her own abilities. She needs to, lest her father steer them into a time and place where Nix doesn’t exist. Because of the complex and sophisticated plot of time travelling, I know I’ll read this book again to figure out the connections between the different timeframes. (That’s a sign of a wonderful book, when the reader is planning to read it again after finishing the last page!) It’s a really unique book, that shows a different sort of protagonist to the usual YA ones concerned with school and parties and friendships. There’s also a sequel available now – The ship beyond time – I can’t wait to read it. Best for 14-16 year-olds, but absolutely fabulous for all adults.

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  • How to Bee by Bren MacDribble (children’s novel) – this is set in a dystopian world, where nine-year-old Peony is desperate to become a  ‘Bee’, someone who climbs the trees, waving a wand to collect the honey. She lives and works on a farm with her sister and grandfather. But trouble arrives in the form of Peony’s mother, who wants to take Peony away to a different life. Peony’s voice is strong and compelling and whisks readers away into her world where you just want everything to work out for her because she is such a hard worker and so determined to support her family. I loved this book – definitely one of the best children’s books I’ve read this year. And the cover is gorgeously striking! A fabulous read for 9-12 year-olds.

I’ve also spent a bit of time in the last fortnight reading some unpublished books. I’m part of a writer’s group and last weekend we met up as usual to discuss each other’s work. I absolutely believe in the writing from the other members – I’m sure I’ll be reviewing their published work one day – a crime novel, a middle-grade novel and a young adult book.

Any recommendations for me? I’m compiling a wishlist for National Bookshop Day on Saturday 12th August – I’ll definitely be visiting my local. Tell me what’s on your book wishlist!

Anything is possible by Elizabeth Strout – book review

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Anything is possible – it’s a great book title and a great motto for life, isn’t it? It’s similar to my mantra last year when we renovated our home – there’s always a way.

This book has a lovely textured cover with a green edging around the spine which makes it look elegant. But it’s the elegant writing inside the covers which makes it a wonderful read.

I didn’t know anything about Pulitzer prize-winning Elizabeth Strout before I read this book, but as soon as I finished it, I tried to borrow her earlier books from the library. There are fifteen reserves for her My name is Lucy Barton!

Even with just over five months of reading pleasure before the end of the year, I’m pretty sure this book will make it into my top ten books for the year.

Anything is possible reads almost like a collection of short stories, except that all the characters are linked together. They all live, or have lived in the rural town of Amgash, Illinois. Strout writes with perception and insight, which made me care about all her characters and the various tangled threads of their lives. When I read each chapter, I felt fully invested in each character, no matter how small or large their story.

With a fangirl crush, I headed to Strout’s website to learn more about her. There are quite a few interviews which offer a glimpse into her writing process. In an interview with Waterstones she says:

I would say most of my fiction is drawn from that very tension of the inner life versus the outer life.  We all live with some kind of inner life, and it is often not known to others, and so their perceptions of us are just partly real. My job as a fiction writer is to show that strange relationship between peoples’ perceptions of others and the inner reality a person lives with daily.

Even though the above quote refers to Strout’s earlier book, My name is Lucy Barton, it’s appropriate for Anything is possible. While there is one main character in each chapter, each character is referred to at least once in another character’s story. So as a reader, you see the inner world of each character, as well as how they are viewed by another character in their town. Anything is possible is a companion book to My name is Lucy Barton, but I don’t think it matters which order you read them in – particularly if your library is anything like mine and you have to wait for Lucy Barton!

Strout writes of her book – I hope by reading Anything is Possible you are able for a few moments to transcend the life you are living and to understand – and see – people who may live very differently, but who have similar desires for love and safety and the friendship of others, in whatever form that may take.

This book would be a fabulous bookclub book – so much to discuss.