"Answers to all the questions and a tale to tell": an interview with Darren Groth, author of 'Are You Seeing Me?'

As most of you already know -- because I flailed about it from here to instagram and everywhere in between -- I really enjoyed reading Darren Groth's recent release, Are You Seeing Me? 

From the back of the book:

Justine and Perry are embarking on the road trip of a lifetime. It's been more than a year since they watched their dad lose his battle with cancer, leaving nineteen-year-old Justine as the sole carer for her disabled brother. Now, the twins' reliance on each other is set to shift. Before they go their separate ways, they're seeking to create the perfect memory. For Perry, the trip is a glorious celebration of his favourite things: mythical sea monsters, Jackie Chan movies, and the study of earthquakes. For Justine, it's a chance to "free" her twin, to see who she is without her boyfriend, Marc -- and to offer their mother to chance to atone for past wrongs.

This sums up the story beautifully. I suppose it's not the done thing to also add sentences to the effect of: 'a beautiful emotional story that somehow manages never to descend into melodrama,' or 'finally a love story that's more about familial love than the romantic type,' or 'characters you'll wish were actually real so you could give them a big hug (if they were up for it of course).' These are the kind of postscripts I'd tack on if it was my job to write a blurb for this book -- which tells you what a good thing it is that this isn't my job.

Are You Seeing Me? is set partly in Brisbane and partly in Vancouver, Canada, echoing the author's own background. Darren Groth is a Queenslander now writing from Vancouver, where he lives with his wife and thirteen-year-old twins. Recently I got to chat with Darren about his work.

Before talking about the text itself, a process question because I'm fascinated by the processes of creativity and the rituals (or lack of them) that creators employ. What does your writing process look like? And how long did it take to write AYSM, from idea to final draft?

My process is pretty organic. I'm not a huge planner of a novel -- a lot of the details reside in my head and unfold on the page. I tend to start with a simple idea or scenario which, through the thousand and one questions that result, ends up becoming a full blown story.

With AYSM, it began with an idea close to home for me: a set of twins -- one with a disability, the other without -- left on their own after their father's passing and their mother's departure many years ago. From that basic premise, the questions commenced: who are they? Where are they at in their lives? What happened to the father? Where is the mother now? Eventually, I had answers to all the questions and a tale to tell.

The first draft of AYSM took almost a year to write. Unfortunately, it would turn out to be the first of many. Final draft would come after six previous! I think it turned out for the best, though.

I'd agree with that.

The relationship between AYSM and your own family story is quite clear. When did you first realise you wanted to write a book like this? Did you wrestle at all with finding a balance between following the story you were writing versus exploring the story you are living?

I knew soon after the release of my previous novel, Kindling, that I would do AYSM. I wanted to write a book that would be a gift to my daughter and explored the idea of a young woman trying to find her own way while caring for her brother. As you mentioned, there were plenty of touch-points I could bring from my own family's circumstances -- not enough that you would call the work "faction", though. Historically, I've tended to do that with my novels: I'll use compelling narratives from my own experience, add lots of made-up stuff, give it all to caracters I create, and then see where it ends up.

This makes perfect sense. And I suspect we can't help but imbue our fiction with some of our own history, even if we are writing in worlds completely different to our own.

Have your children read the story? Did they offer any feedback?

My kids are thirteen; neither has read the story yet. My daughter will read it one day -- as it's dedicated to her, I hope she loves it. She's more into The Hunger Games and The Simpsons at the moment. My son, due to his ASD, may never be able to read AYSM or Kindling (the book that was my gift to him). He has progressed very well over the years, though, so never say never!

It's very important to AYSM that both Justine and Perry have a voice. It's not solely Justine's story; neither is it solely Perry's. Did you always intend to tell the story like this, even from its inception? And did you encounter any special challenges in writing a story with two protagonists?

For a while, I entertained just writing AYSM from Justine's perspective. Not far into it, I understood Perry needed to be heard, too. He was actually far easier to write than his sister. Justine is far more nuanced than Perry and required a lot more care during editing to ensure her voice was consistent and authentic. Putting Perry on the page involved a greater amount of research (everything I now know about earthquakes, sea monsters, and Jackie Chan movies, I owe to him), but he was a dream to author.

The editing and crafting shines through. Justine's character is gently deep and manages to authentically straddle the sometimes awkward divide between youth and adulthood.

Speaking of divides, the book, with its dual settings of Brisbane and Canada, has a very strong sense of place. How important to you is this sense of place in what you read and write? Is it always as significant within the text as with AYSM? How does being an Australian living in another country help (or challenge) you as a writer?

Place, when done particularly well, is like another character. One of my favourite reads of all time is I'm Not Scared by Niccolo Ammaniti, and the backdrop for that -- a remote rural town in southern Italy -- is remarkable and plays as much of a role in proceedings as any of the protagonists. If my sense of place in AYSM is half as good as Ammaniti's then I'm rapt.

Regarding living in Canada as an Aussie, I think it offers a different stimulus to my work than I otherwise would've had remaining in Brisbane. As Justine herself might put it: no better or worse -- just different.

Beautifully said. Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts and background on this important story. Good luck with all your future work!

"Are You Seeing Me?"; one of my favourite reads of 2014 so far.

I've been in something of a heavy duty reading/writing/creating slump since July. But this week I read Darren Groth's Are You Seeing Me?, which was a completely spontaneous purchase on National Bookshop Day, and I loved it.

For a summary, check out Goodreads. In the meantime, here's a hastily-scribbled impressionistic list of reasons why I think this book is great:

1) it's beautifully-written. From the get-go, the prose is lovely -- gentle, literary, but never over-written. Here's a taste, from page 37, as twins Perry and Justine step out into the Canadian sun for the first time and stop to take a selfie: "The snap is more than money -- it is perfect. Our eyes are ablaze. Our grins are starlight. Despite the fifteen-hour flight and lack of sleep, we have been captured at some sort of fission point; the release permitting the very best of our past, present and future to burst through for a nanosecond. As I stand there, spellbound, breathing the gluggy Vancouver air, the photograph materialises in other places, other times..." On top of that, it's a good story. It's possible to have great words but a bad tale; happily, this is not one of those books. It works.

2) it's contemporary YA literature that manages to avoid cliches and tropey-ness. First off, there's not a love triangle in sight. In fact, there's only a glimmer of romance and what's there is honest, real, and not composed of pink-tinged warm fuzzies. Secondly, there's very little space given to what the characters look like or wear, or their appraisal of others' appearances. The story isn't about school or work or rivalry or the boy next door (none of which are wrong, all of which have been done a thousand times before). Finally, at 19 years old and functioning as the primary carer for her brother, Justine is the exact definition of YA: a young adult. She is wrestling with responsibility, decisions about the future, relationships, the way others perceive her brother's disability. Her experiences are ones readers will relate to no matter what their age.

3) Perry and Justine live in Brisbane, and there is something so I-don't-know-what-it-is-but-I-like-it about reading a book with links to a place you know and love. It's a feeling akin to belonging, or even ownership. Having looked out onto the same bridge, same river, same bookstore cafe that the characters are also seeing makes their story that much more real, more tangible. And for me, it brought up all my fledgling feelings of Queensland patriotism, which have taken eight years to generate.

 4) it punched me right in the heart. My little brother has down syndrome, so I get what it's like to walk through life with an answer waiting on the edge of your tongue, ready to explain away anything that people find unusual or unsettling. There's 17 years and three other siblings between me and him, but the others all live away and I live right next door, and that feeling of the two of us out to face the world is something I can relate to deeply. Sometimes I have dreams of disasters happening and the one person I always try to find in the midst of the tsunami or the earthquake, the one person I have to reach to make sure he's safe, is my brother Tain. I could understand Justine's fierce love for her brother because I feel that for my brother, too. At the same time, I felt a little envious of these characters. Perry -- who narrates part of the story -- is articulate and expressive. He's able to explain himself clearly. He has defined tastes and interests, special skill sets, and knowledge that can impress others. There is no external sign of his disability. Though people might be startled or feel uncomfortable because of the way Perry responds to situations, he can also blend into a crowd. No one can look at him and, simply by evaluating his physical characteristics, make assumptions about his abilities, his personality, his worth. I envied that in Perry and wished momentarily for some of those things for my brother. This was a new experience for me, but at the same time it reminded me that things always look different from the outside looking in.

5) finally, it inspired me to love better, which is one of the best things a book can do.

Books for 10 and 11 year-olds (kind of):

Book recommendations are quite a personal thing. You know a friend would love a certain book because she's totally into dystopia, but you also know it would keep another friend up all night freaking out. One friend might be fine with a few cuss words here and there, but it would totally spoil the reading experience for a different friend.

The recommendation lines are drawn even more finely when it comes to sharing books with kids. This one might be a perfect read-alone for one particular ten-year-old, but to another, it's just too much sorrow and might only work as a read-aloud with time to pause in order to discuss issues as they arise. A book may have some wonderful themes and ideas, but the occasional violent imagery upsets some parents. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to sharing books.

I was not a discerning reader when I was ten. I read anything I could lay my hands on, and I don't think it messed me up too much. But there are definitely things I probably shouldn't have read when I was quite so young -- or maybe I've just turned all mother-hen in my relative old age? Because I am much more cautious in my approach to throwing books at kids than I was in my approach to catching said books when I was a kid.

All of which is my really long-winded way of saying that a book that's great for one kid may not be so for another. It might be too mature for one and too young for another; you know how it goes. That being said, one of my favourite ways to engage with books and find great new things to read or share is in talking about them. And recently I've had a few people ask me for recommendations for grade five/six readers. Which can only mean... BOOKLIST TIME!

I have erred on the side of delicacy here, which means that these are books meant for young readers. You may be fine with your eleven-year-old reading The Fault in Our Stars (at this point, I wouldn't be), but there won't be anything that grown-up in my list. The ones I am sharing, though, are books I've engaged with predominantly as an adult reader -- which tells you they are good books (to me, at least) because their appeal and quality is enduring regardless of age. I've split the books into two segments based on the fact that one friend requested some lighter, happier reads. Again, such distinctions might be arbitrary; what one reader finds heavy, another reader might consider fluff. It's all relative, and many serious books can be written lightly and gently, so feel free to make up your own mind. Regardless, all of these books are ones I consider fairly gentle, even though many of them tackle difficult topics. Categorisations are hard!

Feel free, also, to throw your own recommendations at me. Inspired by swellvalleybloodpulse's snappy instagram book reviews (check them out; they are like delicious little bookish word-poems!), I've taken just a few words to describe each text:

Slightly lighter:

• Collins, Suzanne -- urban fantasy, a kidnapped little sister, giant talking cockroaches, and high adventure underground in The Underland Chronicles.
• DiCamillo, Kate -- small town USA, dogs, preteen years, unsual characters, and single parents in Because of Winn-Dixie.
• Hirsch, Odo -- mysteries, adventure, a cast of lively characters, everyday life, and beautiful turns of phrases in the Hazel Green books, the Bartlett books, the Darius Bell books, and FrankelMouse.
• Holm, Jennifer L -- the great depression, Florida Keys, family belonging, and ingenuity in Turtle in Paradise.
• L'Engle, Madeleine -- family, fantasy, time travel, connection, and allegory in A Wrinkle in Time.
• Peterson, Andrew -- family fantasy, mythical beasts, an epic journey, and lost jewels in On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness.
• Sachar, Louis -- everyday coming-of-age with fantastical elements, tall tale, racism, bullying, buried treasure, and family in Holes.
• Spinelli, Jerry -- being different, social acceptance, school life, creativity, and wonder in Eggs and Loser.
• Stead, Rebecca -- moving into the teen years, middle school, family relationships, agoraphobia, spying, and a twist in the tale in Liar & Spy.

Slightly heavier:

• Avi -- the medieval period, Catholicism, hierarchy, the Black Death, and minstrel life in Crispin: the Cross of Lead.
• Bauer, Michael Gerard -- Brisbane setting, local community, family relationships, PTSD in The Running Man.
• George, Elizabeth -- the Middle East during the time of Christ, parentless children, disability, faith, and conflict in The Bronze Bow.
• Kerr, Judith -- world war II, Germany and France, nominal Judaism, belonging, coming-of-age, and family in When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit.
• Palacio, RJ -- disability, social acceptance, friendship, family, and multiple POVs in Wonder.
• Serraillier, Ian -- world war II, refugees, families separated, Poland during the German occupation, all in The Silver Sword.

February book haul:

Just a little book-haul month for me. I have a lot of expenses coming up and am on a student-with-part-time-work budget, so I kept it very trim. But I absolutely had to get Burn, the final in Julianna Baggott's Pure trilogy (which I wrote about super briefly here). I also have kind of a life-law which decrees that if I visit an independent bookstore, I have to pick up something new. That something was Ketchup Clouds by Annabel Pitcher and I'm not going to lie: I picked it up entirely because of its glorious cover design. Just look at those beautiful red birds flying across the fore edge. I know, I know. We're not supposed to judge books by their covers. But surely we can pick them up because of the covers? I also grabbed ebooks of The Rosie Project, which I've heard good things about, and Shatter Me, which I know little about and am mainly excited because Tahereh Mafi is adorable and married to an equally adorable writer-husband, Ransom Riggs. I mean, just look at them!

Did you pick up any books in February?

Ha ha ha ha, life is real; OR: a review of Hyperbole and a Half, by Allie Brosh

I used to think I would grow up to be a funny person. Spoiler alert: I didn't. Instead, I grew up to be a person who appreciates funniness, which sounds kind of similar but is actually in no way the same.

Occasionally my hopeful past self looks at my disappointing present self and is, well, disappointed. But it can't be helped. The world needs both funny people and funny appreciators. If we were all funny, in a way none of us would be. We wouldn’t be impressed by the funny ones because funniness would be in no way unique, and no one would get any money by being funny. It'd be like paying people for breathing, which is stupid because you really only seem special for being able to breathe after you stop doing it.

Which brings me to Hyperbole and a Half, which I just finished last week and which was the perfect bittersweet happy/sad read to bring me into the new year. It’s the sort of thing you finish and think, “Yes, I could’ve written this,” – and not in the “I have the skills” kind of way (because I don’t), but in the “Oh that resonated with me in a way that made me laugh and also hurt a little bit.”

I always feel like there's a thin line between comedy and tragedy, and someone else somewhere must have said that because I remember hearing it and realising that's exactly what I think every time I enjoy something funny. The best kind of humour is, I think, about people trying to be people. We can be entertained by people trying to be people because, although humanness is our natural form, it doesn't actually come that naturally to most of us. If I watch Parks and Recreation (which could be described as a happy character comedy) when I’m on my own, I will end up crying at least once, usually more often, per twenty minute episode. And I think this is because, even though everything is compacted and exaggerated (it’s comedy, after all), it’s just so human.

That's how I feel about Hyperbole and a Half. It’s so human! And it explores aspects of being human (mostly depression, insecurity, poor adulting, and weird pets) that are highly relatable. If you’re not familiar with Allie Brosh’s work, check out her blog. I could explain things to you but it’s like when people feel compelled to retell Carl Barron jokes: they are only funny if they are coming out of the mouth of a weird little bald guy with strange diction. So just visit the blog (be warned: both the blog and the book contain some swears) and explore her bizarrely endearing comic strip essays. If you are already a friend of the blog, then why haven’t you read the book already?

You have no excuse.

January book haul:

Mmm, books. This is a big fat pile of the books I purchased in January. I don't think I've ever bought so many new books in one month before (except textbooks at the start of a fresh semester), but I stumbled across one of those $3-a-book popup stores and also had some Christmas money to spend. Hence, BOOKS. Here's a quick fly-by of the books I purchased and a bit of the reasoning why. I'll post reviews for the books as I read them:

When Did You See Her Last? by Lemony Snicket :: This is book 2 in Lemony Snicket's fabulous new(er) series, All The Wrong Questions. The first one was a very fun read, with a cute mystery and Lemony Snicket's characteristic quirky prose. I just really enjoy the way he uses words. As you read, you can almost hear him rolling the words around in his mouth, tasting them for their flavour. PS. I recommended this book to one of my students on a recent trip to our local library, and he promptly borrowed it. He's a reluctant reader (aged 11) but was totally gripped by this one. It was lots of fun to hear him laughing out loud during his "silent" reading time.

Voyager by Jan Mark :: I know nothing about this book, but Jan Mark is great, and for $3 it's worth a try.

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen :: This was super-hyped when it first appeared, but of course I'm yet to read it because sometimes I just take forever to be won over to things. We'll see.

Extras by Scott Westerfeld :: Somehow I managed to read all the other books in the Uglies series, but lost steam when I reached this one. I'm here to round out the... quadrilogy? What's it called when it's a trilogy but there ends up being four books in the series?

The Cardturner by Louis Sachar :: Even though it's Louis Sachar, storytelling prince of my heart, I steered clear of The Cardturner because I thought it was about poker, and I'm so not interested in poker. Then I read a review and discovered the card game the book repeatedly references is bridge. So yes! I'm going to read it now.

Unwind by Neal Shusterman :: Somehow I completely missed this dystopian (? sci fi?) series when it first appeared, but was alerted to it through the glories of tumblr. The concept that it's based on -- abortion of fetuses has been outlawed, but parents are allowed, instead, to "unwind" their children's memories when they reach the age of thirteen -- is incredibly intriguing. I'll let you know what I think when I'm done.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh :: I love the blog and I loved the book. I'll be posting my review soon!

Sister Mother Husband Dog (etc) by Delia Ephron :: The entire Ephron family is intriguing. Maybe by reading this memoir, I can soak up some of their creativity by way of osmosis.

Death Comes to Pemberley by PD James :: I bought this one for a friend a while back, but haven't read it myself. PD James writing fanfiction? Yes, that's totally what this is and no one can convince me otherwise.

What books did you buy or read in January?

Reading my way through 2014:

This week over at The Broke and the Bookish, Top Ten Tuesday is all about bookish resolutions. I have a post in the works about my history with resolutions and the ones I'm pondering this year, but I'm going to deviate a little to talk about my resolutions specifically to do with books.

I don't tend to make book-centric resolutions, but a couple of years back, I resolved not to buy any secondhand books for a whole year. My library was getting all triffid-like and the worst thing about secondhand books is that you can sometimes pick up five for a dollar. There is no stopping the growth of the book haul when they're so cheap! So for a year I didn't buy any secondhand books (except for this one time my sister expressly invited me to a book sale and I couldn't refuse, on the grounds of social etiquette -- and so my excuse shall remain) and it was actually pretty liberating. For a whole year, I didn't buy secondhand books, which meant that if I wanted to buy anything, it had to be a new book, from an actual bookstore. It was a great year for me in learning to appreciate the humble bookstore, as I'd previously been a thrifted book junkie. New books cost a lot more and therefore the collection grows much more slowly -- which was exactly what I'd needed -- but for the first time in a while I also experienced the joy of reading new releases and keeping a closer watch on publishing news and developments. Not to mention the fact that my dollars went to authors and bookstore owners rather than garage sales and whatnot. It was a great experiment and it's actually changed how I shop for books these days.

This year, my bookish goals (all of them casual, none of them binding) are less about buying books and more about what I actually do with them. Oh, and there's less than ten, but you'll forgive me that, won't you?

• write more reviews; I love love love to talk about books in real life, but my ratio of books read to books written about is woefully unbalanced. This year, I'd like to be more diligent about jotting down my thoughts post-reading, and then sharing them, too.
• write more honest reviews; this one's a bit misleading. It suggests that my reviews thus far haven't been honest. That's really not true at all. However, I do have a tendency to only review books that I like, respect, or enjoyed in some aspect. Whenever I attempt to write more critical reviews, I can't help but consider the fact that the author -- who for good or ill has slaved over the words I might be panning -- may someday stumble across the review. Even if I don't respect the finished product, I respect the work that's gone into it, so it's hard for me to share reviews of books I don't think are great. Here's to bravery!
• read more poetry and biography; the last few years have been very heavy on YA fiction and I'm not complaining because that's my jam. It's what I love to read and write, but I found that by the end of 2013, I was really craving some poetry and biography into the mix. I miss poetry! I miss real peoples' lives set down in words!
• read the numerous e-books I've downloaded; reading for me is like 70% words and 30% the aesthetics of actually holding and interacting with a book. Therefore, I've been slow to jump on the e-book wagon even though I am seriously affectionate towards my iPad. Last year, a book I couldn't afford in hard copy forced me into e-book land so now I know I can actually read an entire book through a screen, I'm determined to get through more of the e-books I have.
• read things way outside my natural choices; university has been fantastic for forcing me to read stuff I might never otherwise pick up, but I complete my Master's midway through the year, so I'll have to keep myself on my toes picking through some great literature I might have otherwise overlooked. It's eye-opening and challenging, and I think we can learn heaps when we read outside our comfort zone.
• participate in more top ten tuesdays; because book memes are the best memes.
• post book-haul pictures; because ditto for pictures. I love seeing others' books and bookshelves, so I assume the same must be true (for at least some of you) in reverse.

So there you go -- my reading goals for 2014. What's on your list?

There will be blood (and vague spoilers):

This semester, I had to read (among others) The Hunger Games. Of course, there was no had about it. I've already read the book three or four times. One more time did not feel in the least bit like work. (And getting to write about Katniss for one of my papers? So much fun!). I definitely read with a more critical eye this time around, though. When I first read The Hunger Games, it was pre-craze, so I came to it without preconceptions and was completely swept up in the fast pace and startlingly scary world that Suzanne Collins had created. There was barely time to focus on the words, let alone critique anything of the writing. The second time through, I read to re-experience that wild ride, and I'm pretty sure the third time I read it was post-movie, when I wanted to check things and make comparisons.

This time, though, I wasn't reading to see how things turned out or to refresh my memory on the story arc. The characters, the plot twists, and the bleak world of Panem are all pretty familiar to me by now. So I was a little nervous. I love these books, but I'm well aware they are not classics. As well, I'd recently read some debates about the books' bleakness and a critique of their violence. As I went into reading The Hunger Games again, those criticisms were the little cartoon devil on my shoulder. Does this book stand up to the re-reading, in spite of these objections?

It does -- for me, at least. And grandly. As I read again (warily), I couldn't help but be impressed by two things in particular: the pacing and the characterisation. I think Suzanne Collins nailed both, and these, combined with the gripping worldbuilding of dystopian America, are what I think makes the book (and its sequels) work so well.

But what of the violence and the bleak perspective?

Collins' treatment of these themes, which are key to the text (and key to most of the criticism I've read about The Hunger Games) is gritty and realist. However, it is never gratuitous. This might sound contradictory. If violence is fictional, and if it is explicit (which it occasionally is in The Hunger Games), then isn't it, by nature, gratuitous? I don't think so. I think violence is gratuitous when it exists for its own sake. I think violence is gratuitous when it exists to bring pleasure (when it gratifies). I think violence is gratuitous when it has no meaning, or when it is revelled in. And I think violence is gratuitous when it is divorced from consequences.

None of this can be said for The Hunger Games. I think Collins' perspective on violence and what it means to live in a violent society comes through incredibly clearly. In no place is violence praised or upheld. Those who enjoy violence (like the Capitol which creates the Hunger Games, and the Career tributes bred for fighting) are recognised to be depraved. Even when Katniss is pulled into the violence of the Games and feels a brief surge of triumph at conquering one of the other tributes, it leaves her feeling empty and soiled: she has been forced to take a position that revolts her.

The arc of what violence does to the individual and the society follows through in the other two books of the trilogy. Mockingjay, the final book of the three, is emotionally wringing to read. The intensity of Katniss's world and the sensibilities of war take their toll on all the characters -- and those who are destroyed physically may have the easier time of it. The conclusion to The Hunger Games trilogy is not an entirely happy one, but it is satisfying. Does that seem like an oxymoron? There are no puppies and rainbows, but the story ends the only way it can.

There is an honesty to sad books that is not always present in books with fairytale endings. Certainly, sadness in literature can be just as self-indulgent as cheer, but when it is done well (or maybe even just honestly), there is an authenticity to it that is enriching. I've heard people complain about the lack of sunshine, but I relished the ending because it was an honest one. A character -- a person -- cannot experience the kinds of things Katniss did and remain unchanged by them. Grief changes people; hardship changes people. I think Suzanne Collins was very truthful in her presentation of that.

And in spite of the lack of confetti and streamers, the ending to The Hunger Games trilogy is a hopeful one, and that is where I think these books make another important distinction. Life is tragic and life is wonderful. Freeze the frame at a sunshiny moment and you have your comedy. Freeze the frame in another and it's a tragedy. But regardless of whether the sun shines, there is hope and a sense that, because of the future, the past has not been for nothing.

Breakers, burgers, and stories for my nine-year-old self:

Today was a rare Saturday, one in which my Dad was in town and none of us had to juggle pre-existing plans. Miraculous! So we took a little family road trip down south, just one of those ambling, rambling drives that we never seem to get to do anymore. Just before we headed out the door, I grabbed Jennifer L Holm's Turtle in Paradise from my to-read pile, thinking it might be just the thing for roadtrip reading.

It turned out to be the perfect story for a sun-kissed afternoon on the coast (an afternoon in which wind and waves and whales and burgers and lighthouses featured heavily) because Turtle in Paradise is set in Florida's Key West during the '30s and having the wind in my hair and the tang of salt on my tongue made it all the more easy to dive into the dirt-between-your-toes, turtle-soup tale of childhood. It was everything my nine-year-old self could have desired. To begin with, the blunt and opinionated narrator, Turtle, makes lots of references to life as an orphan (even though, strictly speaking, she's not motherless; her mother has just sent her to live with relatives during the summer). I was obsessed with the idea of orphanages when I was young. Like Turtle, I overdosed on Little Orphan Annie and her world sounded kind of amazing. Then, too, there are kids roaming free in a neighbourhood that exists just to foster their spirit of adventure -- without letting things get too dangerous. There's a hint of a family mystery and also some buried treasure. Perfect summer kids' reading.

The grown up part of me appreciated things that my nine-year-old self would've missed. I loved the gentle discussion of the Depression and the particular challenges it posed for the working class. I loved the portrayal of solid, healthy adults who grieve and struggle and make mistakes, but who are safe and good people. I also enjoyed the historical details that slipped into the text in perfectly natural ways.

In spite of some serious and challenging concepts like poverty, illegitimacy, family conflict, and deception (all of which are discussed in really sensible ways), this is a sunshiny book. After spending a lot of time in young adult fiction lately, it's been nice to be reminded of the sweetness of junior fiction. I know my niece Amelia will love reading this one in a few years' time.

Bookjournal: what I've been reading lately

With uni winding down for the year as well as two blissful weeks off from work, I've had time to do lots of reading lately, and boy it is SO GOOD. There's no set theme to the books I've been devouring, but by happy accident much of it has been Australian YA fiction. I love it when writing is local AND good.

What I don't love, however, is writing book reviews. In my attempt to be all fair and journalistic, I tend to get formal and stuffy and my reviews come out sounding like newspaper copy. Then I contemplate how each of these books will affect readerships of different ages and then I wonder if I need to put disclaimers and content warnings. This process can be paralysing because I could quite easily spend more time explaining why a book isn't good than why it is. But that's really not how I feel about books at all, so instead I'll pretend I'm sitting at a cafe with you, internet all, where we're drinking iced coffees and talking about stories we've enjoyed lately. If you have any questions, do butt in to ask.

A Straight Line to My Heart (Bill Condon) has been popping up all over the place as well as in award shortlists. After reading it, I can see why. It was a refreshing and really delightful read for a bunch of reasons. It's a gentle coming-of-age story about Tiff, a recent high school graduate living in small-town Australia. Tiff is on the edge of everything -- of adulthood, of her first real job, of love, and of letting go. What I loved most about this story was its gentleness and its authenticity. In a way, it could be anyone's story. There were no cataclysmic events of earth-shattering import. Rather, the small events of unfolding adulthood and the vivid characters in Tiff's world were what drove the story. I loved, too, that Tiff is enough of a girl-not-yet-a-woman to really be believable and relatable. I wasn't a grown-up at seventeen years old and I don't know anyone who was. Yet so many books have teen protagonists living, thinking, and feeling like twentysomethings. This one was different, with a seventeen-year-old protag who seemed seventeen, in a really genuine and sweet way. -- Oh, and the cover art is adorable.

A Straight Line to My Heart is published by Allen & Unwin.

The Dead I Know (Scot Gardner) is another one I've seen on awards lists round the traps. It was mesmerising, and one of the most unique books I've read in a while. It's a difficult one to trap within the confines of genre, though. On one level, it's realist YA drama, but the air of dread and the intense emotional turmoil of the main character build to fever-point until the story has the intensity of a psychological thriller.

From the publishers:

You wake in the middle of the night, your arms and feet pinned by strong hands. As you thrash your way to consciousness, a calm voice says, 'Steady. We're here to help.' Your mind registers a paramedic, a policeman, an ambulance. You are lying on the lookout at Keeper's Point, the lookout Amanda Creen supposedly threw herself off. And you have absolutely no idea how you got there.

Aaron Rowe walks in his sleep. He has dreams he can't explain, and memories he can't recover. Death doesn't scare him - his new job with a funeral director may even be his salvation. But if he doesn't discover the truth about his hidden past soon, he may fall asleep one night and never wake up.

The Dead I Know is published by Allen & Unwin.

Pan's Whisper (Sue Lawson) is the kind of realist YA fiction that I'd love to see more of. The story drifts between present-tense chapters detailing Pandora's painful integration into a foster family and new school, and past-tense memories of Pan's sister, with hints of what may have happened between them and why Pan has ended up where she is now. I loved that the story was honest without trying too hard to be gritty or edgy. There's sorrow and heartache in the world, for sure, and we must be faithful to report that. But some YA books seem to dig down into the sadness and get buried there. Pan's Whisper confronted the sadness, but it also offered hope -- as well as a boot to the backside for the protagonist (when she needed it).

Pan's Whisper is published by Walker Books.

The author of The Messenger Bird, Rosanne Hawke, was one of my creative writing professors. Having loved her other books, that alone would've been reason enough to pique my interest, but the cover -- the cover! I love beautiful book designs and the artwork on this one is lovely. It perfectly embodies the gentle and haunting tone of the story, which unfolds as Tamar wrestles both with grief following her brother's death and bewilderment after her mother has a mental breakdown. The story is told from Tamar's perspective as well as that of the new farmhand, Gavin. Gavin's blunt and frankly curious outlook is the perfect foil for Tamar's introspective melancholy, which would normally frustrate my much less dreamy self. The way Rosanne Hawke has pulled together the two contrasting stories, though, is just right. The result is a mystery that crosses the bounds of time and history, with just enough creepiness to be delicious.

The Messenger Bird is published by UQP.

How did I miss Genesis and its follow-up Equinox (Lara Morgan) for so long? Rollicking dystopian adventures set in a futuristic Perth -- and MARS? Sign me up! Five hundred years into the future, global warming has completely redesigned the earthscape and society itself. There are the wealthy, who live in optimised environments to make post-Melt life easier, and the Ferals, the fringe-dwellers. Rosie Black is a Banker, somewhere in the middle of this societal mix. A virus known as MalX keeps killing people off; Rosie's mother is among its victims. Her dad is lost in his own grief and her aunt is away on a trip to the colony in Mars. Rosie feels lost and alone, but when she stumbles across a mysterious box, her situation worsens -- and the pacing doesn't slow up until the last page. I'm looking forward to Dark Star, the final book in the trilogy, which is to be released in just three days. Reading the first two books a week before the third comes out has got to be the best way to read a trilogy.

The Rosie Black Chronicles are published by Walker Books.

And that's what I've been reading lately. How about you? What's your latest favourite Aussie read?

The Spring reading stash:

This week's top ten Tuesday challenge at The Broke and the Bookish is all about the books on our Fall reading list. Autumn? I wish! Spring is lovely, for sure, but it leads to Summer and -- I think we all know that I'm not so much a fan of Summer. Not compared to a Queensland Winter, anyway. But the Fall/Spring thing is irrelevant. Here -- which is far more important -- is my list of Top Ten Books on My Spring Reading List:

1. Unstoppable by Nick Vujicic
2. Dead End in Norvelt by Jack Gantos
3. The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe
4. The Boat by Nam Le
5. A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
6. Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson
7. His Name in Fire by Catherine Bateson
8. The Messenger Bird by Rosanne Hawke
9. Word Hunters: The Curious Dictionary by Nick Earls and Terry Whidborne
10. City by James Roy

I'm excited about diving into all of these. Seven fiction, three non-fiction. Some have been on my to-read list for a while. Others are brand new releases. This list includes six books by Australian authors, which makes me happy. Four of the books were published this year. There is one verse novel in the pile, as well as two short story collections. One of these books won the Newbery Medal, and another won the Prime Minister's Literary Awards. One is written by a past creative writing professor of mine, and another is written by a cool Brisbane author. One was a birthday gift, and another is required reading for uni this semester (guess which). Four were published by local publishers UQPress, which makes me feel patriotic.

What's on your Spring (Autumn?) reading list?

In the Twilight zone

I hate controversy and I run (on tiptoe, so no one will notice) from confrontation. I do, however, like a good discussion if it's rational and full of feeling without angst or anger.

So let's talk about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series. Have you read them? If yes, what did you think? If no, why not?

I haven't read them, so my information is based only on what I've heard secondhand. I'd love to pretend I'm cool and make it like I'm not reading them purely because they're not literary masterpieces or because I'm immune to pop culture. But the fact is that I'm a desperate follower and all too influenced by what everyone else is doing.

The real reason I'm not reading them, I guess, is because of the subtle deception such supernatural stories create. I guess it's tricky, because none of us likely know any vampires in real life. It's easy to shelve them in the "pretend" corner with fairies and elves and trolls because they don't seem real. And they're not, really. Not the handsome, passionate vampires we find in storybooks today.

But history has revealed that there are real people who get their kicks from vampiric behaviour (I'm reminded of a specific news story I read years ago that still makes me sick). The vampire legend itself stemmed from stories of demons and evil spirits -- which, as Christians, we know are true. Nothing very romantic about that.

I don't believe that everyone who reads the Twilight series is going to be harmed in some deep way just as I don't believe that everyone reading Harry Potter is going to turn into a wizard.

But it seems slightly scary how today's popular fiction repeatedly attempts to make evil appear ever more attractive. Isaiah 5:20 says, Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness.

It's something to think about.

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conversations:

Sarah -- I think what you've said is a really good point. If we're looking for hope in one man, we're always going to be disappointed. Unless we're talking about The Man, of course :).

Simplythis -- thank you, Ruth! You know I'm such a chicken, especially about putting thoughts out there, double-especially when it comes to hot-button issues. It's nice to know someone understood me :).

Staish -- I don't know lots of the ins and outs, but Obama's pretty big on abortion. See Beth's comment at the last post for more info. <3 to you.

Beth -- I think you nailed it. If God doesn't know what He's doing, then it doesn't matter who's president. And since God *does* know what He's doing, it still doesn't matter who's president, because it means God let him be put there. So God bless Obama, I say!

BookJournal :: bookfest!

On Saturday morning, my mother and sister and I loaded up our car with those wonderful green fabric Woolworths bags and drove to the Rotary Club bookfest not far from here. I'm guessing they have a couple a year, because we went last in May, but obviously their book stocks are far from being depleted.

There are seriously few things more fun than digging through piles and piles of old books. But I wasn't completely well this particular sunny morn, so I found the whole experience slightly more overwhelming than usual. Also: prices were too expensive! Oh lovely Rotary people, if only you realised: you would clear so many more books out from those death-trap towers of boxes if you just reduced your prices!

Nevertheless, we found some treats, and then when we had spent all our money, we found ourselves in a kind of overflow room which was highly disorganised and yet was full of wonderful non-fiction. I found three wonderful books I wanted to take home -- my favourite finds of the day -- and the lovely older man with the adorable accent (I remembered him from May and I think he remembered me) offered them to me with a discount and a compliment, both of which were delightful.

So now I am happily dipping into Meet the Authors and Illustrators volume 1. I was given volume 2 years ago, and have devoured it over and over. I'm pretty sure it's meant as a resource for grade school teachers, as an accompaniment to literature studies. But to me it's like fairyland -- profiles of sixty different children's book authors (many of whom I love) with stories of their childhood, tales of their inspirations and motivations, and details of their writing processes.

I am a process person, completely fascinated by how others go about their creative work. This is, quite possibly, why I love reading craft blogs so much; they provide an insight into the mind and workspaces of very clever people. And seeing how and why others do things is probably the biggest inspiration I can grasp hold of. It just makes me want to make stuff!

If you are even remotely similar, I think you'd love this book. Plus: there are cool writing prompts based on the authors' works or suggestions. And plus plus: I discovered that Elizabeth George Speare (one of my favourite authors ever; she wrote The Bronze Bow) loves Ellis Peters (one of my other favourite authors ever). This information makes me feel like I have good taste.

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conversations:

Beth -- I can definitely, definitely relate to your comment. It's funny, but when the Word or prayer seems driest to me, I'm tempted to let it slide. Crazily, that's the time when I really need it most, so why would I give it up?

Staish -- Thank you for your pixellated intervention! Introspecting ceased.

Meaghan -- oh, I'm a rebel from waaaay back :). And re. your other comment: yes, I can definitely relate! There are few words that quite fit those times.

BookJournal :: marriage advice to singles?

My aunt's recent blog post discusses how a single woman can benefit from reading a book about being a wife and mother. I laughed when I saw her post: I'd just begun reading Carolyn Mahaney's Feminine Appeal myself.

And I must confess that when I hit the second chapter, 'The Delight of Loving My Husband', I groaned. So little of the way into the book and I'm already up against something entirely irrelevant to my life just now? But my obsessive-compulsive streak kicked in and I determined to read through the chapter, rather than skip it so early on in the piece.

I was glad I did. Mrs. Mahaney's advice on loving a husband slotted right into what I needed to hear just then about loving the people in my life. Any relationship founded on Christ, whether it is a marriage partnership or one of casual acquaintance with the other kids at Bible study, must be motivated -- and dominated -- by selflessness and a desire to serve. I was mired in a selfish cycle of thoughts, most of them to do with how I wasn't getting anything out of certain friendships in my life. Ugh.

This quote from Spurgeon was particularly cutting:

He who grows in grace remembers that he is but dust, and he therefore does not expect his fellow Christians to be anything more. He overlooks ten thousand of their faults, because he knows his God overlooks twenty thousand in his own case. He does not expect perfection in the creature, and, therefore, he is not disappointed when he does not find it.

So there you go, Aunty Nell! This single girl's only two and a half chapters in and already learning some powerful stuff.

(The rest of you go check out the post; the list of benefits you'll find there is much more general -- and therefore more relevant -- than my little moment).

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conversations:

Bethany -- sounds like a great sermon series to watch! When I Don't Desire God was like manna to me when I was reading it; definitely what I needed to learn.

Damian -- I'm always nervous about coming across like a creepy stalkerperson, too :), but then I'm usually blessed when someone else with some nerve leaves a comment or message. I look forward to keeping in touch with your Christ-walk through your blog.

BookJournal: a very meme beginning

Sorry to have gone all Quiety McQuiet on you this week here at the blog. It's been a busy one. I have been studying, working, making, talking, reading, planning, updating, socialising, risking, worrying, learning, and even a little unwell.

Because my head is elsewhere, I cling today to that beloved lifebelt of the blogger with an empty imagination, the humble meme. Today's meme has a purpose other than simply taking up space in your feed reader, however: it's the beginning of a beautiful new thing, the first of a bunch of bookish discussions I want to have with you all. I was thinking Thursday would be a great day to talk books -- but they might slip in anywhere -- and I'm starting with The Great and Wonderful Book Meme:

What was the last book you bought?
Hmm. This is a hard one (particularly since I've been poor superawesome at not buying books lately). No. Wait. I've got it. It was The Guardian of the Veil by Gregory Spencer.

Name a book you have read MORE than once:
There are many, with the Bible being at the top of the list as a constant re-read. Little Women is also a biggie. I probably read it ten or twelve times between the ages of ten and twenty.

Has a book ever fundamentally changed the way you see life? If yes, what was it?
I'll steer clear of the obvious answer here and mention a more unlikely life-changing book. L'Abri, by Edith Schaeffer, gave me a whole new insight into the concept of community and relationships within the body of Christ. It was pretty cool. I think I need to re-read it.

How do you choose a book?
If I'm at the library, I'll take a chance on a book based on its title and the blurb. Sometimes I'll pick one up if it has a really cool cover. But mostly I go with books others have recommended to me or authors whose books I've loved previously.

Do you prefer Fiction or Non-Fiction?
I couldn't decide! I read more fiction, because it's delightful and so easy to read. But non fiction has definitely impacted my life in greater ways than (most) fiction.

What’s more important in a novel - beautiful writing or a gripping plot?
Neither; the characters are the most important.

Most loved or memorable character:
I don't like "mosts" and "favourites" because they change too often and one could take hours to decide. So I'll play the first-thing-that-comes-into-my-head game and say Daniel, from Elizabeth George Speare's The Bronze Bow. I could identify with him heaps and would also like to marry him as he was on his way to becoming a great man. Too bad he's fictional.

Which book or books can be found on your nightstand at the moment?
My little ESV.
Postern of Fate by Agatha Christie.
The Chosen by Chaim Potok.
Feminine Appeal by Carolyn Mahaney.
Did I Kiss Marriage Goodbye? by Carolyn McCulley (reread)
Solo by Eugene Peterson et. al.
God's Guidance by Elisabeth Elliot.

Yes, I'm in the middle of them all. Ridiculous, isn't it?

What was the last book you’ve read, and when was it?
I'll say last book finished, since I'm in the middle of a few just now: The Guardian of the Veil by Gregory Spencer, and I finished it at the end of September.

Have you ever given up on a book half way in?
Heaps of times. It's disappointing, but usually I quit because a) the content is worthless, b) the writing is incredibly poor, or c) the book is not right for just now.

What are you reading just now?