'Where the Shoreline Used to be' Stories from Australia and Beyond, Edited by Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca

From the BLURB:

A rich and unique collection of short fiction, poetry, illustration and song lyrics from Australia and beyond.

An encounter with a strange boy on a beach, a dog in space, a world of butterflies, a talking whale, two girls who take on the world, and a thousand silver ghosts . . . Like the pull of the tide, these stories and poems will draw you in and encourage you to explore.

Funny, dramatic and poignant by turns, and featuring both established writers and exciting new talent, Where the Shoreline Used to Be is a stunning collection that will challenge and excite your imagination.

Including: Shaun Tan • Scot Gardner • Arwa Abousamra • Trudy White • Kate Miller-Heidke • Keir Nuttall • Felicity Castagna • Amie Kaufman • Alice Pung • Gayle Kennedy • Davina Bell • Meg Caddy • Courtney Barnett • Barry Jonsberg • Meg McKinlay • Kyle Hughes-Odgers • Shivaun Plozza • Ali Cobby Eckermann • Margo Lanagan • Wil Wagner • Lizzie Wagner • Tony Birch • Leanne Hall • PM Freestone • Andrea Hirata

‘Where the Shoreline Used to be’ is a collection of short stories from Australia and beyond, edited by Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca, who also edited the 2012 short story collection, ‘Things A Map Won't Show You’.

I loved McIntyre and La Marca’s first short story collection, and was so happy to see them come out with a second book that’s perfectly oriented for the schools market. There are long and short-short stories, poems and artwork within – all of which will stir the imaginings of young readers, and hopefully encourage them to dabble themselves in this wonderful medium.

As with ‘Map’, ‘Shoreline’ is pretty free-form thematically – these authors, poets and illustrators are allowed to run rampant with that beautiful title, though a sense of time more than place feels to have the slight upper hand.

Margo Lanagan’s ‘The Queen’s Notice’ is visceral and feral-delightful, reading like something of a ‘Romulus and Remus’ foundation myth;

It was true, he did smell, strongly and cleanly of deep earth and queen-favour. His mind was beginning to fill with other things, as a quick-tunnel trickles full of loose earth, but he still had the queen’s scene in all his skin-folds, creeping in his mouth-hairs, raw and clear, warm and sweet.

—Margo Lanagan, The Queen’s Notice
 

Amie Kaufman’s autobiographical ‘I Swear This Part is True’, cuts to the very heart of storytelling in the first place, when it comes to our own histories;

We are our own myth makers, every one of us. This is why, when it comes to our stories, the manner of the telling matters very much. Tell it right, and you can shape and create a small part of yourself.

—Amie Kaufman, I Swear This Part is True

Arwa Abousamra’s very personal ‘Muslim Footprint’ navigates her arrival in Australia at the age of nine. She came from Saudia Arabia where she was born but that wouldn’t recognise her citizenship – and then she goes through her years of schooling when she was both made to feel like an outsider, and proud of her heritage.

The whole book is full of delicious morsels – there’s not one story in there that I didn’t love. But to pick out a very few more …

Kate Miller-Heidke’s 2009 song ‘Caught in the Crowd’ has the lyrics reproduced, and as a poem it blends in beautifully with time setting – of those moments in school when you’re more than a little ashamed of the way you behaved. Those who’ve fallen in love with Shivaun Plozza’s debut novel ‘Frankie’, will revel in her short story here called ‘The Point’ – about the sheer awkwardness of being in close proximity to other people’s families while being an interloper on vacation with them. The opening line – ‘the caravan stinks of tinned pineapple,’ – was so evocative, I could feel the humidity from the page. One of my favourite Australian artists – Kyle Hughes-Odgers – illustrates a short story by Meg McKinlay (‘How To Make A Bird’).

Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca have turned their keen editorial eyes to delivering another fantastic collection of Australian short stories that are perfect for school study, and pure enjoyment too.

5/5  

'Becoming Kirrali Lewis' by Jane Harrison

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

Through a pair of ornate wrought-iron gates was one of the oldest universities in the country. Our paths had just intersected. It was 1985 and I, little black duck, was about to embark on a law degree.

Set within the explosive cultural shifts of the 1960s and 1980s, Becoming Kirrali Lewis chronicles the journey of a young Aboriginal teenager as she leaves her home town in rural Victoria to take on a law degree in Melbourne in 1985. Adopted at birth by a white family, Kirrali doesn't question her cultural roots until a series of life-changing events force her to face up to her true identity.

Her decision to search for her biological parents sparks off a political awakening that no-one sees coming, least of all Kirrali herself as she discovers her mother is white and her father is a radical black activist. Narrative flashbacks to the 1960s, where Kirrali's biological mother, Cherie, is rebelling against her parent's strict conservatism sees her fall into a clandestine relationship with an Aboriginal man. Unmarried and pregnant, Cherie's traumatic story of an unforgiving Australian society give meaning to Kirrali's own rites of passage nearly twenty years later. The generational threads of human experience are the very things that will complete her. If only she can let go.

‘Becoming Kirrali Lewis’ is the new novel from Indigenous author and playwright, Jane Harrison. Winner of the State Library of Queensland’s 2014 black&write! Indigenous Writing Fellowship, ‘Becoming Kirrali Lewis’ is available from June and published by the wonderful Magabala Books.

The book begins with Kirrali in 1985, about to begin university and a law degree. Kirrali comes from a small country town and a big family – she’s one of six kids, two of whom are adopted including Kirrali, who knows at least one of her biological parents was Aboriginal.

Kirrali got used to being the ‘skinny black kid in the all-white family,’ in her hometown, but when she gets to Uni she’s a bit taken aback by the politics inherent in the colour of her skin.

Why did people have to categorise? So what if I was black? Did that mean I had to fight every cause championing black people?

There are some great pathways for readers to further explore with this aspect of the book, and Kirrali’s emerging political awareness – like the Koori Advancement Centre on Kirrali’s campus. These sorts of cooperatives do exist and hopefully young readers will go and do some digging and discover the real ones, like at the University of Sydney for example, which is a ‘culturally safe space for all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander students.’

The book is really about Kirrali discovering herself when she gets to Uni; her Indigenous culture and, – as every young adult experiences – forming her political ideals and moral compass. Harrison also delves into dark and brutally honest territory including violence, assault, and police brutality/excessive force. In this country we talk about America’s ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement, without looking similarly critically at our own society and the racial inequities we fail to right. Harrison brings all of this up, and young readers will discover a lot of parallels to modern Australia.

There’s also a push-pull that Kirrali feels in her law degree. Initially she wants to go into International Law, but particular circumstances open her eyes to where she might be more useful in the community … and it is that realisation that she has a community that needs her which helps shape her career.

 So lawyers made good money and could walk away at the end of the day, did they? The ones I saw at the Aboriginal Legal Service didn’t.

Kirrali is also given the opportunity to further know herself after a certain chain of events grants her the chance to find her biological mother and learn the story of her being put up for adoption. From Part Two we meet Kirrali’s white biological mother, Cherie, in 1960s flashbacks that delve into her meeting Kirrali’s biological Aboriginal father Charley Jackson.

At the end of the night, I was leaving to catch the train home and saying goodbye to Mary when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

‘You still here? Haven’t you gone back home yet?’ His voice was curious, not malicious like the last time we had met. 

‘Where would my home be? My descendants came from England and Ireland but that was five generations ago. Haven’t I earned the right to call Australia home yet?’ I replied boldly. 

‘My descendants have been here for 40,000 years. When you’ve been around for that long you can call Gondwanaland home.’ 

‘Oh, Charley, give the girl a break,’ said Mary, exasperated. ‘You don’t talk to me that way and I’ve only been in the country five minutes.’ She smiled at him and I was struck again by her gentle nature. 

‘Just teaching the white girl a little black history, that’s all,’ Charley retorted.

I loved Cherie’s narrative – explaining her suburban upbringing, and how it was flipped on its head when she moved out of home, and especially when she met Charley;

 My parents were racist in that middle-class pseudo-tolerant way I was to recognise often. Sure, send a donation over to the poor starving Africans but tut-tut if an African family moves into the street — property values will fall.

If I have any complaints about the book it was that sometimes Kirrali’s language didn’t feel authentic – particularly when discussing her experiences of racism – but of course she’s in the middle of a Law Degree, so she’s able to articulate because of what she’s been learning in the classroom. I also sometimes thought that the construction of Kirrali’s unique circumstances were to make it a little easier for her to see things from Cherie’s perspective … but I was so caught up in both their narratives that this was really a fleeting thought.

I thoroughly enjoyed Jane Harrison’s ‘Becoming Kirrali Lewis’ – a gutsy and poignant coming-of-age story about two incredible women, that casts a critical eye over Australia’s changing (and still needs to change) racial landscape.   

5/5 

Author Jane Harrison will be at the Emerging Writers Festival on June 2 for ‘black&write!: Coming of Age’ – a great event which also features, ‘readings by some of the country’s most exciting Indigenous writers on their clumsy teenage years.’  

'Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda' by Becky Albertalli

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB;

Straight people should have to come out too.

The more awkward it is, the better.

Simon Spier is sixteen and trying to work out who he is – and what he's looking for.

But when one of his emails to the very distracting Blue falls into the wrong hand, things get all kinds of complicated.

Because, for Simon, falling for Blue is a big deal . . . It's a holy freaking huge awesome deal.

‘Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda’ is the debut young adult novel from American author Becky Albertalli.

I mean, how does a person look when his walls are coming down?

I will admit that I was a bit torn about this book when I first read the blurb. On the one hand: gay protagonist is a big YAY in YA because we do have a diversity problem. On the other hand … I was a bit so-so on the emphasis of coming out in the blurb. It seemed to suggest the book would cover overtly familiar territories of LGBTQ+ narratives, instead of moving beyond to storylines in which homosexuality is the norm and being gay isn’t the most interesting thing about a character.

It took me a while to finish ‘Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda’ – mostly because I didn’t want it to end and I was rationing my reading to prolong the enjoyment. Albertalli’s debut is absolutely going down as one of my favourite books of 2015 – because what I thought might be quite a reductive narrative, was in fact rather subversive in walking a tightrope between normalcy and individuality.  

Simon Spier is our sixteen-year-old protagonist who is gay, but hasn’t yet told anyone except for an anonymous online friend called Blue – who is also gay, and attends Simon’s high school. The book kicks off with one of Simon’s classmates discovering his private messages to Blue, and working out his sexual orientation … information this classmate uses to blackmail Simon into getting into the good graces of Simon’s beautiful friend, Abby. This incident triggers Simon having to tackle the topic of “coming out” head-on, and sooner than he feels comfortable.

Albertalli sucked me into the story from the first page – when we meet Simon between a rock and a hard place. From there she absolutely had me in Simon’s corner, and wrapped up in his saga of blackmailing and the mystery of Blue, carried along on this pitch-perfect narrative voice that’s both humorous and nervous, self-assured and insecure.

I loved how smart ‘Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda’ was – and the big ideas that are explored. The very fact that it’s a “coming out” book is interesting in itself – at one point Blue and Simon (communicating via email) talk about how they know their respective families will probably be accepting and supportive when they tell them they’re gay, and they know they have it a lot easier than gay men did twenty or thirty years ago … but it’s still a big deal; 

 Once you come out, you can’t really go back in. It’s a little bit terrifying, isn’t it? I know we’re so lucky we’re coming out now and not twenty years ago, but it’s still really a leap of faith. It’s easier than I thought it would be, but at the same time, it’s so much harder.

A few days ago I watched a great documentary called ‘Gaycrashers’, in which Australian comedians Joel Creasey and Rhys Nicholson visit this small country town to tackle the homophobia there by putting on a comedy show. There was this wonderful moment when a worker at a timberyard said he had no problem with gay people, but it seemed to frustrate him that they “needed” all the fanfare and their own day with Mardi Gras, when heterosexual people don’t have anything like that … to which Nicholson rightly pointed out, every day is heterosexual day. I thought that was really interesting, in the context of ‘Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda’ – when Simon and Blue talk about wishing that everyone had to ‘come out’ with whatever their sexual orientation, because it shouldn’t be an awkwardness only experienced by gay people.

I also loved this book because Simon isn’t perfect, and that made him more relatable. He’s actually a pretty crappy friend at times – the book has a pretty great supporting cast for Simon, with two friends called Nick and Leah who he’s known since he was a kid, and a six-month newbie to their group, the ever-perky Abby. There’s a subplot about Leah having a crush on Nick, who has a thing for Abby … and Leah feeling ousted from their group when the two boys seem to favour the more conventionally feminine Abby over Leah’s snarkier, darker outlook. I totally related to Leah, and felt frustrated with Nick and Simon for the way they treated her. I loved Leah’s story (and I’m really hoping that Albertalli has a book in store for her!) especially because in some ways it mirrored Simon’s – who at one point worries that he’s not the boy his parents wanted (assuming that being gay makes him less masculine), well Leah no doubt feels the same way when comparing herself to the “girlier” Abby. I just loved this over-arching theme that in high school, we always feel like we’re not the best versions of ourselves.

It’s strange, because in reality, I’m not the leading guy. Maybe I’m the best friend.

Becky Albertalli’s debut novel is kinda brilliant. It’s subversive and heartfelt, funny and intelligent with a protagonist to fall head over heels for, a mystery romance to leave your heart thumping and interesting discussions about sex and sexuality that make it a must-read book of 2015.

5/5

'Lois Lane: Fallout' Lois Lane #1 by Gwenda Bond

  

From the BLURB:

Lois Lane is starting a new life in Metropolis. An Army brat, Lois has lived all over—and seen all kinds of things. (Some of them defy explanation, like the near-disaster she witnessed in Kansas in the middle of one night.) But now her family is putting down roots in the big city, and Lois is determined to fit in. Stay quiet. Fly straight. As soon as she steps into her new high school, though, she can see it won’t be that easy. A group known as the Warheads is making life miserable for another girl at school. They’re messing with her mind, somehow, via the high-tech immersive videogame they all play. Not cool. Armed with her wit and her new snazzy job as a reporter, Lois has her sights set on solving this mystery. But sometimes it’s all a bit much. Thank goodness for her maybe-more-than-a friend, a guy she knows only by his screenname, SmallvilleGuy.

‘Lois Lane: Fallout’ is the first book in a new (though in many ways, established) young adult series from author Gwenda Bond.

I have been so excited for this book, ever since the blurb/concept was first announced – a young adult book based in the DC comic book universe of Metropolis and Superman, but focused on a teenage Lois Lane. SO. MUCH. YES. And now that I’ve read ‘Fallout’, I’m thrilled that it managed to live up to my hype.

Now, I wasn’t a fan of The WB/CW television series ‘Smallville’ when it aired. I tried, and I only watched the first season and wasn’t hooked enough to ever revisit it. HOWEVER, growing up I was a huge fan of ‘Lois & Clark: The NewAdventures of Superman’ with Teri Hatcher and hunky, hunky Dean Cain. I also quite liked the 2006 film ‘Superman Returns’ with Brandon Routh … at least I liked it so much more than colour-bland (everything bland, really) Zack Snyder’s ‘Man of Steel’ from 2013 (and to that – ‘Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice’ looks stupid).

Having said all that – I think anyone can pick up ‘Lois Lane: Fallout’ and come to the story with some level of cultural osmosis about the Superman series, even if they’ve never been interested in the comics or watched any of the adaptations. Bond touches on only the big, basic plot points of the Superman origin – there’s no feeling of *wink, wink – nudge, nudge* to make the comic-uninitiated feel left out.

In this new series, Lois Lane is a 16-year-old army brat whose family – mother, younger sister and decorated General father – are finally settling in one place for longer than a couple of school terms, since her father was offered a permanent position in the budding city of Metropolis. As an army brat who has always been on the move (which is a good thing, because she has a tendency to attract trouble wherever she goes), Lois doesn’t exactly have many friends. Except one – in the virtual world, Lois chats with a mysterious boy who goes by the handle ‘SmallvilleGuy’ and who first reached out to Lois after she posted a story online about seeing something out of the ordinary in the skies above Kansas.

When she starts at this new high school, two major events shape Lois’s path in this new town – she’s offered a position on a student newspaper and youth spin-off to the Daily Planet, and she stumbles across a serious case of bullying that’s being ignored by school administrators.

‘Fallout’ follows Lois on her first investigative piece as she tries to take down a group of gamers who call themselves ‘Warheads’ and have a Hydra-mind mentality when it comes to virtual and real-world bullying of fellow classmates.

I really loved this book – especially because Gwenda Bond made sure that the most important aspect of this new series isn’t how interesting Lois is in relation to Superman, but rather how she’s interesting (and pretty kick-butt) in her own right. Readers get to see Lois’s genesis story, in a way, and it’s incredible that we’re present when she gets bit by the journalism bug and starts researching real-life heroes like pioneering journalist Nellie Bly who inspire her to do good by seeking out the truth to expose corruption and injustice;

SkepticGirl1: We protect people, see what other people miss. We don’t need anyone to look after us

And while readers know exactly who that boy is she’s chatting to, SmallvilleGuy doesn’t steal the show – rather, he’s a fairly subtle hint of background romance and even somewhat of a sidekick to Lois’s intrepid reporter.

I opened the silver lid of my laptop and typed in my secret fourteen-character alphanumeric password. After it was accepted, I opened the chat window and put in the next code.He was there waiting, or at least it looked like he was. The second I logged on to my chat account, invisible to anyone else, I saw his handle. Before I could type a greeting, he did. 

SmallvilleGuy: I expected to see you on the news, the first girl ever kicked out of a Metropolis high school on her first day. I was going to tell you I was impressed. But a job?

I have seen a few reviews that liken Bond’s Lois Lane to Veronica Mars – and I can definitely see the comparisons and book-appeal for the VM fandom. But ‘Fallout’, and I’d suggest this entire Lois Lane series, isn’t nearly as dark/gritty as Veronica Mars was – there’s no murder, but both Veronica and Lois are quick with the quips and the young women are marshmallows, deep down. I think a more apt comparison – particularly for the hard news aspect – would be to another TV show, this time from the 90’s called ‘Press Gang’. I would say that Lois is much more aligned with character Lynda Day from that show … and if you don’t know what the heck ‘Press Gang’ is, do yourself a favour and YouTube!  

Bond also does well to fill up and flesh out Lois’s world with family and the friends/enemies she’s making at school. Her relationship with her father is especially interesting in that he’s both taught his daughters how to take care of themselves (with sneak-attacks to teach them tae kwon do and the like), but he’s still an over-protective father who struggles with letting his girls trust themselves and do their own thing.

The general world-building in ‘Fallout’ is also superb, particularly because it’s very much set in the comic-book world of Metropolis, but in modern day. Of course it is – when Lois is friends with Clark Kent/SmallvilleGuy via online chatroom, and she’s taking down a group of bullying online gamers. So we get some pretty hilarious references to geekdom pop-culture in particular, like Dire Wolves and this hilarious suggestion that John Green’s Nerdfighters have penetrated the culture to become a legit high school tribe;

The Nerdfighter contingent would have been identifiable by the fact that half of the table was reading (or more likely re-reading) one of their favourite author’s books – alternately laughing or weeping, depending how far in they were – even if a few weren’t also wearing T-shirts featuring him and his brother, along with tiny video cameras for making their next vlogs beside their trays.

I also just loved that Lois is dealing with something as relatable and serious as school bullying in this book – there’s some hints that there’s a bigger something going on in Metropolis (and I’m crossing my fingers that future books introduce the Luthor family!), but it’s great that Bond has Lois dealing with real-world issues.

I really loved this book, and I can’t wait to read more in this new young adult series. Lois Lane is a fantastic character to explore retroactively in her teenage years, and to that I especially love that author Gwenda Bond is letting her grow into herself away from the Superman legend. I could see this series having serious longevity, and sure SmallvilleGuy and all his baggage could come into play down the track … but for the meantime I like the idea of getting to know Lois in her own right.

5/5

AUDIOBOOK: 'Slam' written by Nick Hornby, narrated by Nicholas Hoult

From the BLURB:

'There was this time when everything seemed to have come together. And so obviously it was time to go and screw it all up.'

Sam is sixteen and a skater. Just so there are no terrible misunderstandings: skating = skateboarding. There's no ice. Life is ticking along nicely for Sam; his Mum's got rid of her rubbish boyfriend, he's thinking about college and he's met someone. Alicia.

Then a little accident happens. One with big consequences for someone just finding his way in life. Sam can't run (let alone skate) away from this one. He's a boy facing a man's problems and the question is - has he got what it takes to confront them?

Written by: Nick Hornby

Narrated by: Nicholas Hoult

Length: 7 hrs and 17 mins

Unabridged Audiobook

‘Slam’ was the 2007 contemporary young adult novel from Nick Hornby, and I’ve been meaning to read it ever since Hornby said this very intelligent thing about YA books:

“I see now that dismissing YA books because you’re not a young adult is a little bit like refusing to watch thrillers on the grounds that you’re not a policeman or a dangerous criminal, and as a consequence, I’ve discovered a previously ignored room at the back of the bookstore that’s filled with masterpieces I’ve never heard of.”

I always feel like hugging that quote.

So, ‘Slam’ is Hornby’s first and only young adult book to date – but now that I’ve read it (via listening on audiobook) I’m really crossing my fingers that he writes something else for this readership because ‘Slam’ was just so darn good.

It’s hard to pinpoint what I love most about Nick Hornby’s books. I’ve read most of them and most recently fell head-over-heels in love with his 2014 book ‘Funny Girl’ – and now that I’ve read his YA offering in ‘Slam’ I can safely say that a real strength in his writing for younger audiences is that he brings a lot of his adult sensibilities over. ‘Slam’, without giving too much away, is all about teen pregnancy from the perspective of 16-year-old father-to-be Sam Jones. Like with most of Hornby’s books, we first meet our protagonist from a place of “WTF have I done?!” and the rest of the novel is an attempt to untie the knots of their lives.

I must admit – I went in a little sceptical of a “teen pregnancy” book from the perspective of the teen father. Even as I count Angela Johnson’s ‘The First Part Last’ (which is on the same subject) as one of my favourite books of all time. What’s great about ‘Slam’ is that Hornby brings no preaching, tick-the-boxing “sorting teen problems” feel to this book. Hornby and Sam both know what a monumental fuck-up this is, and Sam is suitably terrified – especially because the men in his family have a history of repeating this particular mistake, and he’s well aware of the repercussions. This repeating of history also means that Sam sets himself up to be a better father than his own, who is uneducated and wholly uninterested in helping to raise his son.

I also wonder if part of my loving ‘Slam’ so much was the audiobook itself … it is narrated by actor Nicholas Hoult, who had a break-out role in the movie adaptation of Hornby’s ‘About a Boy’ playing Marcus Brewer. Perhaps because of Hoult’s previous affiliation with the Hornby universe, he seemed perfectly suited to narrating Sam’s story – more likely though is just that Hoult is a fine, fine actor and as such a grand audiobook narrator. There’s real vulnerability in Hoult’s reading, even as he also hits those comedic marks perfectly. Because of course, this being a Nick Hornby book there are a lot of laughs interspersed throughout the quite weighty topic of teen pregnancy – from Sam’s conversations with an imaginary Tony Hawk, to the dreams he has of the father he will grow into.

There are many differences between a baby and an I-Pod. And one of the biggest is, no ones going to mug you for your baby. 

I loved ‘Slam’.  This is a really tender and funny portrayal of what happens when a teenage boy desperately wants to take responsibility for one of the biggest mistakes (and loves) of his life. Nick Hornby has long been a beloved writer of adult fiction with tricky characters butting heads against God-awful situations, and I was thrilled to discover that his YA turn is a similarly evocative exploration. Narrated by a young Nicholas Hoult (circa 2007), Sam’s voice shines through in all his earnest, shit-scaredness.

5/5

'Every Move' Every #3 by Ellie Marney

 Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

The sequel to Every Breath and Every Word.

After the dramatic events of London, a road trip back to her old home in Five Mile sounds good (in theory) to Rachel Watts, with her brother Mike in the driving seat. But when Mike picks up his old buddy – the wildly unreliable Harris Derwent – things start to go south. Back in Melbourne, Rachel’s ‘partner in crime’, James Mycroft, clashes with Harris, and then a series of murders suggest that the mysterious Mr Wild – Mycroft’s own personal Moriarty – is hot on their tail. When tragedy strikes, Rachel and Mycroft realise they’ll have to recruit Harris and take matters into their own hands…

‘Every Move’ is the third and final book in Ellie Marney’s ‘Every’ mystery YA series.

I didn’t want to read this book – not because I wasn’t excited for it, and I certainly wanted to catch up with James Mycroft again … No, I didn’t want to read this book because I knew it was the last we’d be reading of Mycroft and Rachel Watts, and I didn’t want their adventures to end. But, it was Arthur Conan Doyle who wrote; 'What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable.' And I suppose after all that Mycroft and Watts have been through in this series, they deserve a rest now, huh?

Certainly, ‘Every Move’ is set deep in the aftermath of second book ‘Every Word’, and the horrifying London events that see Watts and Mycroft now distant and uncommunicative. Rachel in particular is suffering post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in the form of nightmares, sleepless nights and a new, frightening awareness of the world around her and the danger she and Mycroft have found themselves in. Adding to Rachel’s woes are the fallout from her London trip with her family – her mother in particular is expressing her fear for Rachel’s safety through anger and hurt, not entirely without justification … but it’s taken so much of a toll on Rachel, that her brother Mike drives them out of the city and back to their country home in Five Mile for a reprieve.

It is while home in Five Mile that Rachel and Mike catch up with one of his old friends, one Harris Derwent whom Rachel describes as; ‘sun-bleached, Driza-Bone-wearing, dickhead, tearaway.’ Harris wants to follow in the Watts’ footsteps and get out of Five Mile, so Mike offers him a lift into the city and their spare couch to crash on, much to Rachel’s dismay.

Meanwhile, Mycroft is following new leads, based on evidence gathered while in London – these threads will take him dangerously close to finding out who killed his parents, and why – but at what cost to him and Rachel?

I’ve got to say, this book is high-adrenaline and high-emotion. There’s a lot that needs hashing out – particularly between Watts and Mycroft, Rachel and her family – and while no stone is left unturned, Marney isn’t afraid to break reader’s hearts and leave them gasping with every page-turn. I don’t feel like I can say a hell of a lot about the nuts and bolts of the story, except the pacing is exquisite and the whodunit marvellous … the end will leave your heart racing and mind reeling.

But onto the really good stuff that drove this series – the characters – and I’m thrilled to say that Watts and Mycroft don’t disappoint. The characters we first met back in 2013 feel like they’ve come full-circle in this finale, and Marney really does give them room to shine and reflect on their past adventures and ramifications of those adventures. I particularly appreciated that Rachel is given time to grapple with her PTSD following the events of London, and Marney really does explore it with infinite patience and compassion. 

Mycroft and Watts’ romance has always been such a tender counterpoint to the oftentimes brutal crime-thriller aspect of the series, and I was delighted to find that their last dance is a damn good one for the emotional outpourings;

 ‘Covalent bonds are a type of molecular bond formed by the sharing of a pair of electrons between adjacent atoms,’ I recite. 

‘Yes! Covalent bonds are about the strongest molecular bonds in biochemistry, right? So you’ve got this molecule, it’s very strongly bonded ….’ 

Mycroft is close enough now that I can feel the warmth of him through his white shirt. He slips one of his hands into one of mine, and holds our joined hands high. Our fingers twine together, and some of the heat in his palm radiates out into my body. My stomach starts to do gravity-defying things again, and my cheeks flame. 

His voice has gone low. ‘But then the molecule comes into interaction with other molecules, where it can be affected by something called dispersion forces …’ 

‘Dispersion forces. Uh-huh.’ My heart is hammering. 

‘… also called London forces.’ 

‘You’re shitting me.’

And while this was an end, there was one new addition to ‘Every Move’ that bought a surprising freshness to the finale – in the form of new character Harris Derwent. He’s a tough bloke on the outside, but with an all-too believable back-story that had me thoroughly in his corner. And while he is coming to this series literally at the eleventh hour, I couldn’t help but feel like we haven’t seen the last of him either … at least I hope so.

I’ve loved this series from the start, and I’m so happy to see that it’s gone on to enjoy great success overseas. It introduced us to a fantastic new voice in Aussie YA, and even though I’m sad to see the last of Watts and (especially that delicious) Mycroft, I can’t wait to see what else Ellie Marney has in store for us.

While this series started out as the perfect read for fans of Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, it quickly became a must-read in its own right as a gutsy and exhilarating crime-thriller for readers young and old.

5/5

'The Flywheel' by Erin Gough

I interviewed Erin for my Kill Your Darlings article, ‘We Read To Know We Are Not Alone: Examining the Lack of LGBTQI Characters in Australian Youth Literature'. She’s amazing, and this debut YA is a triumph: I should know, because I was given an advanced copy … and I’d like to share with you the endorsement quote I wrote for the book: 

Erin Gough writes lightning on the page - her words leaving a resounding thunderclap in the heart! I wished so hard for The Flywheel to be a real place, so I could go there and knock back caramel milkshakes with Del and Charlie while we waited for the Flamenco Hour. This reads like progress in Aussie YA diversity, a move away from coming-out stories to explorations of the perils and pleasures that come when you are finally true to yourself, but still dealing with the small-minds of others. I do think that the Australian youth literature community will embrace this tender-true story of girl meets girl, falling in love and finding your feet. I eagerly anticipate Gough’s next novel.

(see how I rambled there? That’s because it’s awesome and WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS!)

'All the Bright Places' by Jennifer Niven

 Received from the publisher 

From the BLURB:

Theodore Finch wants to take his own life. I'm broken, and no one can fix it.

Violet Markey us devastated by her sister's death. In that instant we went plowing through the guardrail, my words died too.

They meet on the ledge of the school bell tower, and so their story begins. It's only together they can be themselves . . . 

I send a message to Violet: 'You are all the colors in one, at full brightness.'

You're so weird, Finch. But that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.

But, as Violet's world grows, Finch's begins to shrink. How far will Violet go to save the boy she has come to love?

‘All the Bright Places’ is the new contemporary young adult novel by Jennifer Niven.

I first heard about this book because it caused quite a stir in the youth literature world, when film rights were bought before it had even hit bookshelves – with wunderkind Elle Fanning attached to play one of the lead roles. Pretty quickly I read it likened to John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars crossed with Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor & Park as the “next big thing” – which is a surefire way to put me off and turn me into an instant sceptic.

Then I received an advance copy from Penguin Teen Australia, along with a letter from the author. It was the letter that really intrigued me, as Niven explained the circumstances around the idea for her book being the sudden death of her literary agent: “part of me wanted to just stop. Stop writing, stop working. But another part of me said no, push through this, and don’t just push through it, make something great happen.” Intersecting with her grief were sudden memories of the first boy she ever loved, and Niven concluded her letter; “All the Bright Places was written about a very hard, sad, lovely time during a very hard, sad, stressful time – but in just six weeks, the book was born.” Cutting through all the PR rhetoric of “next big thing” and “if you liked X and X, you’ll love Y!” – this brief letter was Niven putting her heart and dark inspiration on the page, and I was impressed.

There’s more painful beauty in the story itself – the story of Theodore Finch and Violet Markey who become each other’s unlikely saviours in the worst of circumstances. Theodore is fascinated by death, and constantly thinks of ways he might kill himself. Violet Markey lives for the future, counting the days until graduation, when she can escape her Indiana town and her aching grief in the wake of her sister’s recent death. The explosive opening chapter has them meeting on the ledge of their school’s bell tower – in a case of ‘girl and boy save each other,’ which carries throughout the book. But when death keeps encroaching on Theodore’s thoughts, Violet doesn’t know how she can keep him here and keep him safe from himself.

Jennifer Niven has written a beautiful balancing act in ‘All the Bright Places’ –at once a thoughtful exploration into mental illness and teen suicide, lightened with a first-love story of tender honesty;

I feel like I’m living for these moments – the moments when I’m just about to lie down beside him, when I know it’s getting ready to happen, his skin on mine, his mouth on mine, and then when he’s touching me and the electric current is shooting through me everywhere. It’s like all the other hours of the day are spent looking forward to right now. 

We kiss until my lips are numb, stopping ourselves at the very edge of Someday, saying not yet, not here, even though it takes willpower I didn’t know I had. My mind is spinning with him and the unexpected Almost of today. 

When he gets home, he writes me a message: I am thinking rather consistently of Someday. 

I write, Someday soon. 

Finch: Someday when?

This is a very thoughtful book for how Niven delves into mental illness and suicide – two topics that may make parents and schools wring their hands in worry when their children (inevitably) find their way to this bestseller. But these are not topics to fear, especially when they’re explored in youth literature and with an author like Niven – even her Author’s Note is a thoughtful coda on the topics: “If you think something is wrong, speak up. You are not alone. It is not your fault. Help is out there.” And a number of organisations are listed – those for suicide prevention and mental illness diagnosis as well as anti-bullying organisations.

The book does take an (inevitable) dark turn – it’s foreshadowed from the first page, when our fated heroes meet atop a ledge. But Niven lays the groundwork so well that when the worst happens, a cast of stellar secondary characters help fill the void – highlighting the impact on those left behind, and the strength of them to survive after such loss.

I do appreciate why this book was compared to the likes of The Fault in Ours Stars and Eleanor & Park – there is loss and sadness here, and such books do have same themes and even romances that follow a similar trajectory. But perhaps their kindest comparison is because such authors take the pain of life and colour it with hope for young readers – and that’s why these book stand out and leave their mark.

All the Bright Places is a favourite of 2015; I can’t wait for the film adaptation and to read more from Niven.

5/5