Adult Fiction – Page 2

Singing my sister down and other stories by Margo Lanagan – book review

June 30, 2017 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

I had goosebumps when I read Margo Lanagan’s short story, ‘Singing my sister down’. It’s a combination of her evocative language, believable worlds and her unique characters and the situations they find themselves in.

This story is also the title of her collection of fantasy short stories, some of them written almost twenty years ago. If you’re looking for a collection of short stories that will take your breath away, this is it. It’s been marketed for young adults but also fits into the adult literary fiction category.

‘Sweet Pippit’ is a story about a group of elephants. But Lanagan doesn’t ever mention the word elephant. Yet you understand by her choice of words that Gooroloom and Booroondoon are elephants. And if elephants could talk, this is what they would sound like.

But our bearing is the sort that soothes others; we move with inevitability, as the stars do, as the moon swells and shrinks upon the sky.

Let’s unpack that sentence for a minute as if we were literature students.

our bearing – instead of saying ‘the way we hold ourselves’ which is a little clunky – we have our bearing which implies regency
soothes others – elephants, by their very presence, calm others – both humans and animals
move with inevitability – the word inevitability has a sense of certainty and destiny about it
as the stars do – she has linked heavy, earth-grounded elephants to the stars – tiny pricks of light
the moon swells and shrinks upon the sky – a lovely way of describing the moon waxing and waning.

And all of that in one sentence!

Here’s another beautiful line –

And our spirits, which had been poised to sink with Gooroloom’s worry, lifted as if Booroondoon’s words were buoyant water, as if her song were breeze and we were wafted feathers.

Again, the pairing of unlikely elements – elephants and wafted feathers – creates lyrical, contrasting images in our minds.

In her interview with Charlotte Wood, in the book The writer’s room, Lanagan talked to her about the craft of writing.

When you’re writing the sentences you’re also thinking about the paragraph, and beyond that to the entire scene, or the entire story. And then you feel the rhythm faltering – so you put square brackets around the blundery bit and you keep going so you don’t lose that sense of the rhythm. Then you come back and find the right word or phrase to fill the gap. Sometimes you’ve got the sense of it but you don’t have the perfect word. You know there is one – it’s on the tip of your tongue, but it’s not there. But you know it means roughly this, so you put down that meaning in square brackets and go on, and you come back and find your way to the perfect word when you’re fresher.

Even if you’re not usually a short story reader, read Margo Lanagan’s book and become one!

My week in books

February 10, 2017 by Karen Comer 14 Comments

How many books have you read, skimmed, touched, discussed, borrowed or bought this week? I decided I would tally up mine!

Read

The secret scriptures by Sebastian Barry – this was my bookclub book and and it was my turn to host. Half of our bookclub had read it, half had started it. We all agreed it was a very slow start. It’s a dual narrative with both sections written in first person. Roseanne is a one-hundred-year-old woman who has been a patient at a mental hospital in Ireland for many, many years. Dr Grene is her psychiatrist. I enjoyed Roseanne’s story more because she was the more interesting character with a strong voice. When I read Dr Grene’s sections, I had to remind myself that his story was current – his tone was quite formal for a contemporary voice.
Becoming a writer by Dorothea Brande – this book was published in the 1930s, but is still relevant today, despite the 1930s tone. I reread this book because the writer discusses the two personalities of the author – the rational or conscious side and the dreamy or unconscious part. I’m interested in this at the moment because I’m trying to balance writing a logical outline for my book so I can see where the problems lie, as well as use my subconscious to solve the problems. Wish me luck!
When the teddy bears came by Martin Waddell – this is a gorgeous picture book which is a perfect present for a toddler about to become a big sister or brother. I put all my kids’ much-loved soft toys in the washing machine yesterday – 34 degrees! – and hung them on the line to dry by their ears or tails. They looked both bedraggled and comical, and the lines of teddies and penguins and dogs reminded me of Waddell’s book, with its collection of teddy bears.
The last painting of Sara de Vos by Dominic Smith – I have only started this book but am really enjoying it so far.

Skimmed

Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi – I’m doing a cooking class next weekend with a friend, based on Ottolenghi’s recipes. I didn’t know much about him at all so I borrowed my friend’s cookbooks. We are having caramelised fennel and roasted eggplant with lamb mince for dinner this week – yum!
Information is beautiful by David McCandless – my kind brother gave me this book – I did cook him a decent dinner and agreed to be interviewed for his business! Its pages show different ways to present information, trends and statistics from different types of fish, carbon usage and the connection between facial hair and the number of people one has killed! It’s a visually stunning book – would be an asset to any marketing department. I have only flicked through it but can already see how I’ll use it as a resource for inspiration, marketing and storytelling.

Touched

One by Sarah Crossan – my friend Tess, a remarkable young woman, is going to start a bookclub with some university friends and wanted some recommendations for books on feminism, female empowerment and gender roles. So this section is for Tess, as I went through my bookshelves for options for her. One is a young adult fiction book about conjoined twins – definitely empowering.
The poisonwood bible by Barbara Kingsolver – four sisters who leave the US with their parents to live in the Congo. Different directions, different choices by the sisters in this novel.
All that I am by Anna Funder – set in Germany during the Second World War, this is a fictional account of two female cousins who work against Hitler. Chilling.
Speaking out and The fictional woman by Tara Moss – two non-fiction books by an Australian model, author and activist. Powerful reading.
The wife drought by Annabel Crabbe – this book covers the same old ground about the division of duties at work and home between men and women. A fiery read.
Motherhood and creativity, the divided heart by Rachel Power – a series of interviews with creative women who are also mothers. While the emphasis is on creative careers, many of the stories can also be applied to the business world.

Discussed

The beast’s garden by Kate Forsyth – I lent my copy to one of the lovely baristas at my local cafe because she is an avid reader. She’s just started it, so I’m looking forward to hearing what she thinks of it when she’s read a little bit more.
Zen habits by Leo Babuto – I also lent my copy of this book to another lovely barista at the same cafe because he wanted to stop procrastinating and this book has fabulous tips for creating habits to do the things that you want to do but just can’t. However, he has been procrastinating reading it so we haven’t had any conversations about it yet!

Browsed

Big magic by Elizabeth Gilbert – I love this book, and pulled it out to flip through because I wanted some tips and tricks on how to be more creative. Will probably end up reading this one cover to cover again.
Zakka compiled by Rashida Coleman-Hale – Miss 10 and I are on a sewing project roll at the moment – we made lavender sachets in the holidays. I have found a little project in this book we could sew. Now to choose the fabric from my stash – blue flowers or blue butterflies?

Borrowed

Goodbye stranger by Rebecca Stead – my friend Renee suggested I read this as apparently Stead’s style and subject matter is similar to what I’m working on with my book. Just borrowed it yesterday from the library so I’m looking forward to a good middle-grade fiction read.
Anansi boys by Neil Gaiman – because he’s Neil Gaiman and this book happened to be lying by itself on the library shelf. Need I say more?
Fabric pictures by Janet Bolton – love a beautifully photographed craft book and the cover had me at hello!

Bought

Zero! I have a Christmas book voucher which is begging to be spent but I am trying to hold off for a little while longer.

I hope you have had an equally bookish week with fiction, non-fiction, cookbooks, children’s fiction – let me know about your week in books, please.

Christmas shopping/summer reading – adult fiction

December 9, 2016 by Karen Comer 17 Comments

Whether you are looking for books for gifts or for your own holiday reading, I have a list for you! I also have a giveaway – I have an extra copy of Hannah Kent’s The good people and would love to give it to a loyal blog reader! Please leave a comment to tell me about the best book you read this year and subscribe to my blog if you haven’t already done so. All comments will go into a draw to win this book.

The good people by Hannah Kent – I loved Hannah Kent’s first book, Burial Rites, so I couldn’t wait to read her second one when it came out only a month or so ago. This time, the story is set in Ireland, in 1825 and follows the story of three women. There’s Nora who loses her beloved husband in the first chapter and is responsible for caring for her grandson, Micheal. She can’t cope with Micheal’s ‘differentness’ so she employs Mary, a fourteen-year-old girl to look after him while she works. The third woman is Nance, a strong presence throughout the book, and her link to ‘the good people’ or fairies is both a curse and a blessing to her. I felt absorbed in this Irish world – Hannah Kent’s skill lies in creating authentic settings.

The dry by Jane Harper – if you’re the sort of person who likes to say, ‘Oh, yes, I’d like to see that movie – I read the book YEARS ago,’ then perhaps you should read this book now! Jane Harper is a UK-born, Australian-based journalist/novelist and The dry is her debut novel. It’s set in a small Australian rural town and follows two murder stories, set twenty years apart. The thread in the present is about Aaron Falk, a city-based detective who goes back to his home town for the funeral of his childhood friend, Luke, his wife, Karen, and one of their two children. As Aaron uncovers some discrepancies in this case, he is forced to confront his memories about the death of his friend, Ellie, who supposedly drowned twenty years ago. I really cared about these characters – I wanted to find out whodunit but I wanted to know why the characters behaved the way they did and what their tangled relationships meant. A fabulous summer read for everyone. I’ll be there on the opening night of the film!

The course of love by Alain de Botton – this one should be mandatory reading for every married couple. My husband read it and enjoyed it – even though it’s not the type of book he would choose to read. It’s a blend of a fictional story about Rabih and Kirsten, how they met, courted, married, had kids and how one of them had an affair, interwined with philosophical musings on the nature of marriage, human behaviour, female and male tendencies in thinking and behaving. My friend P and I had a shouted discussion about this during our kids’ school disco – it was worth shouting about! This is not an easy read, but it’s an entertaining one and perfect for the discerning, thoughtful reader who would like a slow, reflective read over the holidays. I wrote a longer review here.

A kiss from Mr Fitzgerald by Natasha Lester – transport yourself to 1920s New York, where Evie has given up her fashionable, comfortable life with a potential marriage to a reputable, wealthy young man, in order to follow her dream to become an obstetrician. Evie is a likeable, engaging character and the setting of New York, plus fashion, glamorous parties, a speakeasy makes this book a light page-turner – perfect for summer reading or anyone’s Christmas stocking. You can read my interview with Natasha here.

The paper house by Anna Spargo-Ryan – this is another debut novel. This one brought me to tears, as it follows the journey of Heather, a young married woman who lost her baby at almost full-term. It’s a quiet, reflective story about the spiral of grief for Heather and her family. It doesn’t sound like a wonderful, joyful Christmas present but it’s a beautifully written book that took my breath away with wonderful language and the depth of emotion. I know Anna is writing a second novel, and I’m looking forward to reading it when it’s published.

Be Frank with me by Julia Claiborne Johnson – this is an engaging, original book – one of my favourite reads for the year because of the engaging, original characters. Mimi is a reclusive writer, living in a mansion in Bel Air with her nine-year-old son, Frank. Alice is a publisher’s young assistant, sent to help Mimi with anything and everything, in order for Mimi to finish her new manuscript. Frank is an unforgettable, quirky character – an adult head on a kid’s shoulders, obsessed with old movies, and has two rules – don’t touch me, don’t touch my things. Wish this would be made into a movie. A wonderful read for all bookworms. There’s a longer review here.

The beast’s garden by Kate Forsythe – I have read nearly all of Kate’s books because she manages to build a tightly structured plot with every single thread beautifully woven together which sits invisibly behind an array of interesting, complex characters with deep desires and hidden secrets. She is an amazing storyteller and wordsmith, and I learnt a lot from her in the Sydney workshop I attended earlier this year. The beast’s garden is about Ava, a young German woman, living in Berlin through World War II. Ava is sympathetic to the Jews and helps many of them, even though the man she loves is one of Hitler’s men. This book weaves love, history, politics, betrayal, family in a book which is full of tension. I blame Kate for a late dinner one night – I could not put this book down at 6.30 in the evening because I HAD to finish it. She told me that was a lovely compliment – I told her I had hungry kids! A fabulous read for anyone who loves a page-turning, historical love story.

All the light we cannot see by Anthony Doerr – this was one of my favourite books I read this year. I passed it on to my husband to read, and he enjoyed it so much that he bought a few copies to give as gifts. It’s a dual narrative, set in World War II, and follows Marie-Laure, a blind French girl living in Paris, and Werner, a orphaned German boy, who has a skill with radios. The book jumps around a bit in time, so it does require a little work from the reader. Because you have a sense that the characters will eventually meet up, the fragments of Marie-Laure and Werner’s stories have a feeling of urgency, even though the writing is beautiful and evocative rather than fast-paced. The characters were wonderfully depicted, so you felt such empathy for both of them, even though they were on opposing sides of the war. Doerr writes lyrically and creates a sensory-rich world. If you call yourself a reader, please read this book!

Bel Canto by Ann Pattchet – this book is truly a marvel. It’s the story of Latin terrorists who hold a large group of people hostage for a few months. Both hostages and terrorists have to forge new relationships and ways of living, and the two different groups blend and separate, blend and separate. The characters are wonderful – an opera singer, her greatest fan – a Japanese man, the Vice-President whose house is overtaken, a translator. Even the terrorists are described as individuals. I’ve read a few of Ann Pattchet’s books, and this one is my favourite.

The birdman’s wife by Melissa Ashley – I chose this book by its cover – simple, elegant and evocative. It’s a novel but it’s based on the life of Elizabeth Gould, an artist who was overshadowed by her husband’s career. I’ve only just started this book, but I’m enjoying the mix of art, birds and life in 1820s London.

I hope you find something for yourself or your friends and family on this list. Please leave a comment about the best book you read this year and subscribe to my blog (if you haven’t already) to go into the draw to win a copy of The good people by Hannah Kent. The winner will be drawn on Friday 16th December at midday, and I’ll post the book out before Christmas.

Happy reading and Christmas shopping!

Australian spring literary quotes

October 21, 2016 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

While you would think a Melbourne spring should be filled with daffodils, longer evenings and fascinators in the Myer windows, we have had all that but with rain and cold as well. I found it really interesting that these quotes from Australian writers about spring focused on the whole spectrum from the sun and flowers to the rain and cold. My favourite quotes are number 1 and 4 because they contrast the protagonist’s feelings against the weather.

I have left a gap between the quotes and the book titles, authors and date of publication in case you want to guess!

1. I found it very cruel that the sun shone and the weather was perfect during the darkest of my days.

2. It was September, and the roughstone terraces with their thickets of tiny white daisies were aswarm with insects. The whole garden sizzled and hummed.

3. It was spring by now and the days were lengthening; the evening sky, not yet fully dark, was pulsing with the flashing lights of emergency vehicles somewhere up ahead.

4. My heart fell out on a spring morning – the kind that rose coolly in the east and set brightly in the west.

5. “We’re not meant to get hot days like this in October,” I say, standing in front of the open freezer.

6. Her birthday was in mid September, on a spring day that seemed to bring a whiff of summer with it. The wattle was out, and daffodils and tulips were still waving in Burnsie’s garden.

7. After the June shearing of 1944, we knew that if it did not rain in the spring our gamble was lost. The sheep would not live through another rainy season.

8. Monday, 25 November
Drat that it’s cold. Last night I could wear silk to bed and now I have lit the fire. Cold Mondays are gloomy. There are plenty of jobs to do indoors, but who wants to be inside in November?

9. September comes with daffodils
And blossom buds and rain
The sun is pale, the shadows long
As we all sing a football song
And ride home on the train.

10. The night is hot and salted with stars and on the easterly breeze you can feel the wetlands of the interior and even the deserts behind them.

Looking for Alibrandi, Melina Marchetta, 1992

Johnno, David Malouf, 1975

‘Cottage’ in Mothers Grimm, Danielle Wood, 2014

The paper house, Anna Spargo-Ryan, 2016

Graffiti moon, Cath Crowley, 2010

The war bride, Pamela Hart, 2016

The road from Coorain, Jill Ker Conway, 1989

The waterlily, Kate Llewellyn, 1987

All through the year, Jane Godwin, Anna Walker, 2010

Dirt music, Tim Winton, 2001

Which one is your favourite?

Mothers and daughters – books and excursions

October 7, 2016 by Karen Comer 6 Comments

Mothers and daughters – this is a subject that has been extensively used in mediocre, sentimental movies and rather ordinary novels with family sagas but it is also the source of brilliant books, movies and plays.

I’m back from a lovely long weekend trip to Sydney with Miss 10 and my Mum. As Miss 10 broke her ankle during the first week of the holidays – collided with her big brother on her bike! – we hired a wheelchair, which meant Miss 10 was treated like royalty everywhere we went.

We went to the Taronga Zoo, ate out, painted our nails, saw Aladdin (magical!), meandered through bookstores, shopped, went to mass at the cathedral, caught a ferry or two and had lunch with a lovely friend.

In honour of our three-generation girls’ weekend, I have looked up some books which cover at least two generations of women. I know I’m missing heaps of titles – let me know if I’ve missed any of your favourites!

Little women by Louise May Alcott – I don’t know how many times I’ve read this book, and I’m probably ready to read it again, then share it with Miss 10. Four sisters, guided by Marmee, going through many trials and tribulations of finding work, getting along with each other, falling in love, marrying, having children of their own against the background of the American Civil War – it sounds like a modern day soap opera but it’s so much more than this.

The women’s pages – Debra Adelaide – young women who have imagined different alternatives for themselves, who are missing adopted mothers, searching for the true story of their mother, giving up babies for adoption – there are many sensitively portrayed stories of mothers and daughters here.

The poisonwood bible – Barbara Kingsolver – this is such an amazing story of another mother with four daughters, starting a new life in the Congo. I’m ready to read this one again, too!

Finding Serendipity – Angelica Banks – a wonderful children’s novel, first in a trilogy, about a writer mother and her writer daughter and their adventures in literary worlds.

The convent – Maureen McCarthy – an adopted daughter, a biological mother looking for her adopted-out daughter, a grandmother filling in a few details in her letters – this story weaves in and out of the past and present with a dual narrative.

Hope Farm – Peggy Frew – an irresponsible mother who still deserves our empathy, a resilient daughter who eventually chooses a new life for herself – there are many different choices and paths in this book.

Mother and child (film) – I have only seen this once but it was powerful and evocative. Three different women, unknown to each other but connected by the end of the film. Three daughters, with mothers and without mothers.

Our weekend away was not worthy of a novel because there weren’t any family secrets to keep a reader intrigued, there wasn’t any tension to sustain a whole narrative, and there weren’t any complex relationships to add to the plot. A beautiful Sydney setting was the only essential narrative tool. Miss 10 did cry out once in mock terror, in the middle of a city street as I was pushing her in her wheelchair, ‘Help, help, I’m being kidnapped!’ But as Mum pointed out, she looks too much like me for anyone to think she was being kidnapped so no suspenseful moments there! I think I’m happy to keep the intrigue and tension in my books but out of my life!

The life of elves – book review

July 29, 2016 by Karen Comer 5 Comments

I have never written a book review before I’ve finished reading the book. But I found myself thinking so much about this book, The life of elves by Muriel Barbery, that I wanted to write about it, even though I have about a third of the book still to read. And I really want to talk about it with someone who has read it – so if that’s you, please let me know in the comments!

This book – is not for everyone. It’s probably a sign of a good book when it’s so divisive. Some reviewers thought it was too airy fairy, over-written, confusing and vague. Others loved it.

I’m in that category. The language is beautiful and evocative. The characters are described with so much detail, so much empathy and such originality. Read this description about Rose –

Certain women possess a grace given them by virtue of an increase on the female essence – as the result of an echo effect which, by making them simultaneously singular and plural, allows them to be manifest both in themselves and in the long lineage of their kin; if Rose was a woman of sky and rivers, it was because the river of those who had come before her flowed inside her, through the magic complicity with her gender that went beyond mere blood relation; and if she dreamed of travel, it was because her vision cut through space and time and connected the border territories of the female continent – whence came that transparency rendering her light and elusive, and that fluid energy whose source was somewhere far beyond herself.

I mean, really! That paragraph above is one sentence.

I forgot while reading this that Muriel Barbury wrote this book in French, so I am reading the English translation by Alison Anderson. When you consider how beautiful the translation is, imagine both how talented the translator is and how stunning the original must be.

Muriel Barbury is a reclusive French novelist, whose second novel, The elegance of the hedgehog, was a best-selling book in Paris and New York.

This story of elves and girls in one sense is a classic tale of good versus evil, with good being in the form of two small orphan girls who have never met. They are both surrounded by adults who care for them, even though they are not related to the girls. Maria lives on a farm in France, Clara has come from the mountains in Italy to Rome. Both the girls have special abilities, which they must rely on to fight opposing forces.

I was struck by the descriptions of the land in France, and how it shaped the people. Here’s a fabulous description of a farmer’s sons – descriptive words about people – irascible, joyful, affable linked to the land – rocks, granite, cliffs.

These two fine young lads looked after the farm under the regency of their irascible old man, and they were joyful and solid as rocks; it was a wonder to see such affable characters being watched over by a commander whose granite self sporadically crashed and shattered at the foot of these cliffs of joyfulness, his own sons.

While I was reading, I felt that I couldn’t wait to read it again – yes, a strange thing to think while still reading a book for the first time! But I’m looking forward to reading it a second time because I felt I had lots of gaps in my understanding of the story, yet because I trusted the writer that she would tell a magnificent tale, I was prepared both to suspend disbelief and to skim over the gaps, trusting that all would be revealed.

That trust between a writer and reader is vital, I believe. As a reader, you want to trust that your time is a worthy investment in this particular writer’s book. So many books, so little time – I want this book to intrigue me, offer me escapism, show me how language can inspire and evoke feelings, hold up a mirror to my own life, show me a character to lead the way… There are as many reasons for reading as there are readers.

Well, this book offered me a tale of good against evil, an evocative setting which was closely connected to the characters, a dream-like, myth-like story, all told with language so beautiful I would stop after reading a paragraph, stare into space and consider it before moving on. And all this with still a third to go! Plus the sequel – still to be published.

This is probably the vaguest book review I’ve ever written. I would recommend picking it up in a bookstore and flicking through a few pages. If that appeals to you, you will love it. If you’re not intrigued by a few pages, then it’s probably not for you. Too many books, too little time – choose another book.

I’m curious to know whether this sounds like a book you might enjoy or whether it’s too ‘elvish’ for you.

Interview – author Natasha Lester

May 24, 2016 by Karen Comer 12 Comments

I read Natasha Lester’s latest book, A kiss from Mr Fitzgerald, over two nights and sneaked in half a chapter here and there. Evie is a fascinating character in her own right, but when you add her culture – 1920s New York, medical school and the Ziegfeld Follies – you add another layer to her character.

Natasha is also the author of What is left over, after and If I should lose you, both contemporary novels. Natasha is a generous blogger – she blogs about her writing process and the books she’s reading, with many useful tips for writers. As a reader, I’m always interested in Natasha’s video bookclub chats to find some new stories to read and as a writer, I’m keen to learn as much as I can from Natasha’s tips. I’m grateful she has agreed to be interviewed for my blog!

KC: For any readers who haven’t heard about your book, can you tell us what it is about?

NL: A Kiss from Mr Fitzgerald is about Evie, whose mother wants her to marry the handsome and wealthy boy next door. But, it’s 1922 and women are just starting to work and to live away from their families and to earn their own money. Evie thinks she might like to do this too, rather than marry immediately, and a horrific experience of helping a woman give birth in secret by a river, makes Evie determined to put her science classes to good use and to be one of the first women to go to medical school.

It’s a battle though: society and her parents are scandalised by her decision, the medical school isn’t eager to admit more women to its ranks, and Charles, the boy next door, isn’t sure he wants to marry a woman who is doing something so unconventional. So, Evie has to decide: does she follow her dream and risk losing everyone she loves, or does she become like her mother, content to spend her days on embroidery and afternoon naps?

KC: Evie is such a likeable character – she’s privileged and hardworking, ambitious and kind-hearted, naïve and later a little hardened. She’s also a Zeigfeld Follies girl and a medical student! What did you do to get to know Evie and develop her?

NL: The first thing I did was just write the first draft, to see what her story was and what kind of person she might be. Then I did a lot of research into the Ziegfeld Follies and the experiences of the first female medical students and this showed me how tough and stubborn and uncompromising she would need to be, how much of herself she would have to be willing to give up in order to chase after her dream. I re-wrote the book with this in mind, making her more determined, but also showing her courage: that she was afraid and lonely but she kept going because she wanted to help women, and she knew that there was nobody else who would do what she’d set out to do. So she evolved very organically, taking shape with each draft and with the research, which is the way I like all of my characters to emerge.

KC: The setting is almost like a character – what did you do to research New York in the 1920s?

I went to New York a couple of times—the first time I got stuck in Hurricane Sandy, which was an awful experience so I had to abandon all hopes of research. I went back a few months later and had a wonderful time in the archives of Columbia Medical School, sifting through the lecture notes from one of the first females to go through the school.

I also went to the New York Public Library’s Theatre on Film and Tape division at the Lincoln Centre and pored over boxes of wage sheets, programs, letters, and photographs about the Ziegfeld Follies, which Evie joins in order to support herself through medical school.

And I walked the streets of Greenwich Village and the Upper East Side, two locations which feature heavily in the book, and where much of the architecture is the same as it would have been when my characters walked the streets in the 1920s. I studied 1920s transport maps to be sure my characters caught the right trains, a memoir of a female ambulance surgeon, and books and articles about the obstetric practices of the time.

KC: I loved how the sibling relationships between Evie and her sister Viola were mirrored by the relationship between the two Whitman brothers, Thomas and Charles. Did you set that up deliberately or did that theme emerge as you wrote the book?

NL: I’d wanted to write a book about two sisters from the outset, and I also had the idea of them living next door to two brothers, and that one of the brothers would end up with the sister nobody expected him to. The rest of it emerged out of the writing: I always find that I start out with the vaguest of ideas and, somehow, in putting words down on the page, the real story behind the idea emerges.

KC: How long did it take to write your book, and what was your process? How many drafts did you work on?

NL: It took about 2 years, not that I was working on it that whole time. When I wrote the first draft in 2013, I still had a 3 year old who wasn’t at school, as well as my 5 and 7 year olds who were. So I wrote during his nap time only and, that year, I wrote the first draft and at least 2 more redrafts. Then, the next year, my son was in Kindy two days a week and I had more time to work on it. By then, I knew I had an agent who wanted to represent the book, but I needed to do another substantial re-write on it. Once that was finished, in late 2014, it was pitched out to publishers.

KC: Did you have any difficult moments during the writing of this book? What made it difficult and what helped you to continue on?

NL: The most difficult thing was thinking it would never be published, and wondering what I would do if it was rejected, and I could no longer justify being a writer. I love writing, and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But I knew I was taking a huge risk: changing genre, which would mean changing agents and publishers and that, to pull off all 3 of those things was almost impossible. But the thing I’ve learned over the years is that you can’t let any of the self-doubts stop you from writing. You have to sit down and write anyway. So I made myself keep going, despite the fact I was so worried that moving from contemporary fiction to historical fiction might not be the most sensible thing to do! It was what I wanted to do, however, so I just had to go with my gut.

KC: What did you love most about writing this book?

NL: The actual writing. It was the most fun and joyful writing experience I’ve ever had. I loved every minute of it and couldn’t wait to get back to it everyday. I thought about the book constantly. I loved the research, loved evoking the setting of 1920s New York, loved exploring Evie’s character, loved getting the world of the Ziegfeld Follies onto the page, loved exploring the way birthing and obstetrics has changed so much in less than 100 years. And I especially loved making Evie a fighter, who did whatever she could to push against the views of society and the men in charge who thought what she did was preposterous.

KC: A Kiss from Mr Fitzgerald is such a visual book – I can see it as a movie! Who would you like to see play Evie if your book became a film?

NL: This is such a hard question because I hardly ever watch films and so I’m hopeless with remembering actors’ names. If Cate Blanchett was younger, I could easily see her as Evie – although Cate Blanchett is so amazing she could probably pull of being a girl in her early twenties!

KC: How do you manage to stay present for your family and also absorb yourself in your writing? I’m looking for tips, please!

NL: I’m not always present! My family knows that I’m apt to nod my head at them with a glazed look on my face which means I’m thinking about my book and not listening to them at all! What I try to do is to carve out time, and to let them know that I’ve carved out those times. So, when I’m in the middle of a structural edit and need to work on weekends, I’ll let them know that in advance so they understand Daddy is the one in charge and that they need to ask him all their questions. I find that the more I communicate with them about what I’m doing, the prouder they are of me and my books, and so the less they mind if I need to work; they understand that I’m working for a certain amount of time and I will come and play a game with them at the time I’ve promised.

KC: I know your next book is due for release next year. Can you tell us anything about it?

NL: My next novel, due to be published in 2017, begins in England on the last day of the first world war. The main character, Leonora, suffers a huge loss which forces her to move to New York. The book is about the start of the cosmetics industry, and Leonora’s role in taking the lipsticks she used to make in her father’s chemist shop to the women of New York. At the same time, she has to change the way society thinks of cosmetics: that they shouldn’t only be worn by movie stars and ladies of the night but that they can be worn by ordinary women too. Part of the book takes place in the years 1919-1922, and then skips ahead to August 1939, in the month before the second world war.

Thank you, Natasha! Natasha has written a prequel to A kiss from Mr Fitzgerald – so if you’d like to meet Evie, it’s available as a free download here.

Be Frank with me – book review

March 15, 2016 by Karen Comer 6 Comments

The cover of this book matches the inside of the book exactly – this is how I would imagine Frank, one of the main characters, to look like.

Be Frank with me is Julia Claiborne Johnson’s debut novel, and it’s a brilliant one. Allen and Unwin, the publishers, even put a sticker on my copy – Read it. Love it. Or your money back. I can see why they were so confident.

It’s such a fabulous premise – Mimi, a reclusive novelist, who wrote a Pulitzer prize-winning book at nineteen and hasn’t written a word since (hello, Harper Lee!) now needs to write a book in order to pay some bills. Her publisher sends her Alice, a twenty-four year-old publishing assistant, to live with her, keep her on track with her writing, look after the household and look after Mimi’s nine-year-old son, Frank.

Yet Mimi can be rude to the point of malicious towards Alice, and Frank, although engaging, is eccentric, off-beat and not at all a typical boy. Here’s an example of his conversation with Alice:

“So, Frank, you must love school. You know more than most grown-ups I’ve met.”
“The other kids say I’m retarded.”
“I thought they said you were crazy.”
“They say that, too.”
“They’re probably mad because you’re smart and make good grades. Kids are stupid like that. The teachers love you, though, right?”
“I’ll tell you what my mother says teachers don’t love,” Frank said. “Being corrected.”
Sheesh. “You don’t do that, do you?”
“Only when teachers make factual errors.”

Add a good-looking piano teacher with his own hidden problems into the mix, plus an accident or two, and you have a page-turning book.

I can see this book as a movie – Frank’s costumes are extraordinarily gorgeous, the dialogue is snappy and entertaining, the Bel Air setting lavish and Frank and Alice are so likeable.

I thought that a few aspects of the plot were set up to mislead the reader, and then fizzled out but overall, I loved this book. I sincerely hope that Julia Claiborne Johnson – unlike Harper Lee or Mimi – writes more than one or two books.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who left comments on my last post for a BIG Kids magazine giveaway. The lucky winners are Renee, Vanessa and Lyn – I will be in contact with you!

Ten Australian summer quotes

February 23, 2016 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

Last week of summer, and it’s hot. Of course, being Melbourne, summer may not finish until the end of March or it could feel like winter next week. But right now, it’s summer.

Because my children’s novel is set in Melbourne in February and March, I am spending a bit of time this week to write down quick notes on summer. That sweaty patch on the back of your thin cotton dress, after you’ve been sitting in a basketball stadium for an hour. The hot heads of my kids when I collect them from school in the afternoon. The distant sound of kids’ laughter rising above the splashes from the pool. Hot pink nail polish peeking from turquoise sandals. My kids complaining about going to bed ‘when it’s still light, Mum!’ City filled with girls in barely-there strappy dresses. Boys wearing shorts of every clashable pattern imaginable. The sweet, fruity taste of homemade mango ice-cream.

I found these ten passages from books both old and new, which provide a diverse way of describing the Australian summer. I’ve added the title of the book, the author and the publication date at the very end of the post, in case you want to play a guessing game.

The heat was excessive. Every window and door were open, and the balmy, almost imperceptible, zephyrs which faintly rustled the curtains and kissed our perspiration-beaded brows were rich with many scents from the wide old flower-garden, which, despite the drought, brought forth a wealth of blossom.
She is putting on her new bikini that she nicked from Grace Brothers last week. She is rubbing coconut oil into her legs. She is smearing gloss on her lips.
Outside, the property is yellowed and browned from summer. The only green is in the beds immediately around the house. Even the leaves on the eucalypts, the silver strinybarks and lemon scented, are dulled from the heat and the dust.
I still suffered greatly from the heat, and on hot bright nights would smear my skin with citronella, take a rug, and go and lie on my back on the lawn.
Will you look at us by the river! The whole restless mob of us on spread blankets in the dreamy briny sunshine skylarking and chiacking about for one day, one clear, clean, sweet day in a good world in the midst of our living.
It’s almost the end of February and instead of getting cooler the weather gets more humid as the days go by. Because of the heat, the only thing I was looking forward to at Nonna’s place was the swimming pool.
Saturday afternoon was the great afternoon of the week in Plymouth Street. The factory girls washed their hair and did it up in perforated aluminium curlers, put on old print dresses with sagging necklines and torn pockets, and sat on the peeling, cocoa-coloured balconies of the tenements, beating off the flies and saying: ‘Gawd, ain’t it hot!’
In January days stretch out
With lots to do and find
We feel the sand, we tie the bait
We swim, we play, we stay up late
And no one seems to mind.
A time for games and sunny weather
Mum and Dad and us together.
It’s too hot, but I like the way the heat makes my arms feel like they’re full of warm oil, and sweat runs down them in sheets soaking the sides of my singlet.
Lunch was lazily discussed close to the water, after which they lay about on the bank and talked of many things. Nobody was inclined to move, for the heat, even at the river, was very great; a still, thunderous day, on which no shade could keep out the moist heat, that seemed, as Wally put it, “to get into your very bones and make them lazy.”

Did I miss any quintessential summer books? Did you match any quotes with titles or authors?

1. My brilliant career, Miles Franklin, 1901. 2. Closed for winter, Georgia Blain, 1998. 3. In the quiet, Eliza Henry Jones, 2015. 4. Tirra Lirra by the river, Jessica Anderson, 1978. 5. Cloudstreet, Tim Winton, 1991. 6. Looking for Alibrandi, Melina Marchetta, 1992. 7. The harp in the south, Ruth Park, 1948. 8. All through the year, Jane Godwin/Anna Walker, 2010. 9. All the birds singing, Evie Wyld, 2013. 10. Mates at Billabong, Mary Grant Bruce, 1911.

The diver’s clothes lie empty – book review

February 19, 2016 by Karen Comer 12 Comments

This is the first time I’ve read a novel written in second person. I’ve read a couple of short stories written this way, and I’ve attempted to write one myself and failed miserably. The tutor in my online short story class and several of the other students told me it just didn’t work.

Cate Kennedy wrote a fabulous short story, ‘Dark roots’ in her short story collection of the same name about a woman who started seeing a much younger man.

For a while now, you’ve avoided looking at yourself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom by neglecting to put the ventilation fan on. You hurry to dry yourself and get out of there before the mirror unsteams. Life, if we hold it up to the light, contains many of these foolish rituals. Like the one you notice lately where you always turn off the bedside lamp before you slide into bed with him, and the way you don’t wear your glasses at the movies.

Danielle Wood wrote the prologue ‘The good mother’ in her Mothers Grimm in second person.

So your partner moves out, just as your maternity leave expires. Your plan had been to go back to work part-time, but now that you’re a single mother you have to work full-time to afford childcare for two kids. The economics of this confuse you, but you’re too busy thinking about how you’re going to manage to worry about that as well.

Danielle told me in one of her writing classes that the secret to writing in second person was to make sure you were saying something specific to a specific someone.

It makes sense, doesn’t it, because often in conversation we use second person. ‘So you know how easy it is to forget where you put your keys? If you’re driving the other car and you don’t put the keys in the door pocket when you strap the kids in? Or if you’re wearing clothes with no pockets? That’s when it happens to you – you forget where you put your keys.’

Even though it’s not often used in novels, it’s still a familiar kind of voice. Or maybe it’s just me, talking to myself!

The diver’s clothes lie empty by Vendela Vida is a novel written completely in second person. It’s about a young woman who is travelling by herself and has her passport, money and identification stolen as soon as she arrives at her hotel in Casablanca. This is the catalyst for a series of events which take her further and further away from her life as she knew it.

I couldn’t help but like the main character, even though I wanted to yell at her for being so gullible. A perfect character – flawed and loveable.

The writing style drew me in, deep into her day-to-day dramas living without identification in a foreign country and also deep into her past which is gradually revealed.

You are picturing yourself at seventy, looking back on your youth. You will remember that you were young once, that you were thirty-three. You were in a movie in Casablanca. Now that you are on the cusp of being a full-fledged adult, as you now see adulthood, your youth has been documented. Your youth will be defined by the events of the last several months.

If you are looking for something different to read, then this book might be for you.

Read any other short stories or novels written in second person? Does this style appeal to you?

Thank you, SP, for this Christmas present – great choice!