Review: The Mystery Writer by Sulari Gentill


I love Sulari Gentill’s Rowland Sinclair series. They’re clever and funny and stylish and I hope to be able to read more as they are published (will there be more?). So I was excited to try The Mystery Writer, one of her more contemporary standalone novels. And at first, I was all in. The premise is intriguing. A young Australian woman, Theodosia Benton, moves to the US to chase her dream of being a writer. She becomes friends with a famous novelist, gets caught up in a relationship with him, and before long finds herself at the centre of his murder investigation.


The early chapters are great. It has that contemporary feel with just the right dose of thriller. Theo is a satisfying main character. She is determined, slightly unsure of herself, and pulled into a world she doesn’t fully understand. The setting, the pacing, and the mood all worked for me. It had that very moreish quality where I kept reading just a bit further each night than I meant to.


But then came the ending.


Without giving anything away, I just found it a bit much. The final act took a turn that felt over the top, and it wrapped up far too quickly for my liking. I don’t mind a bit of implausibility in a mystery novel, but this stretched things a little too far. I was hoping for a slow and sensible unravelling, but instead it was all very sudden and, frankly, a little ludicrous.


It reminded me of The Nowhere Child by Christian White, which I also read recently in the way that they both have a strong, promising start that gradually builds tension, only to completely lose me with an ending that didn’t quite fit the tone of the rest of the book. It’s frustrating when you’re enjoying the ride and then feel like the author lost confidence in the story and just sped to the finish line.


That said, I didn’t dislike the book. I enjoyed most of the journey. Gentill is a good writer, and the idea behind the novel, which is probably about exploring ambition and developing creative identity, is interesting. But it didn’t land for me in the way I hoped it would. I would still recommend it, with a warning that the ending might leave you a bit cold.


So not my favourite Gentill (Rowland Sinclair still holds that spot) but I’m glad I gave this one a go and I will still eventually read all of her novels. 

Review: The Scholar and The Good Turn by Dervla Tiernan



I’ve done a complete turnaround on this series.


After reading The RĂșin, I wasn’t totally convinced it was for me. I didn’t dislike it, but it felt a bit slow and unsatisfying. But I kept going and I’m so glad I did. With each book, the series gets stronger. By the time I finished The Good Turn, I was completely hooked. This is now a series I genuinely look forward to continuing.


In The Scholar, Cormac Reilly finds himself drawn into a murder investigation after his partner Emma discovers a hit-and-run victim near the university where she works. The case quickly escalates. Layers of privilege, power, and pharmaceutical money complicate everything. It’s more tightly plotted than The RĂșin, and I found the pacing better too. There’s still that brooding atmosphere and a focus on Cormac’s professional isolation, but it felt more focused this time. I got a better sense of who Cormac was as a character, someone who was reserved but felt things deeply. 


Then came The Good Turn. This one brings Peter Fisher, Cormac's colleague, to the forefront, and the narrative shifts between Galway and the small coastal town of Roundstone. A young girl is abducted, a key arrest is botched by Peter Fisher, and Cormac makes a career-defining decision to deal with corruption in the police force. The story delves into the police corruption and even outside of that the procedural pressure felt by police and the personal fallout for them. I found myself more invested in Peter than I expected to be, and the change of scenery added something fresh to the series. McTiernan manages to keep the crime procedural format and deepen the emotional stakes.


In short, I recommend this series. The characters become more compelling as we go, and McTiernan seems to grow more confident with each book. So if you’ve read The RĂșin and weren’t quite sure, I’d encourage you to keep going. I enjoyed The Scholar a lot, but The Good Turn really sealed the deal for me. I'm reading the fourth book now. 

Review: The Cryptic Clue: A Tea Ladies Mystery by Amanda Hampson



I absolutely love this series.


This is the second in Amanda Hampson’s Tea Ladies Mystery series (following The Tea Ladies, with The Deadly Dispute to come) I try to savour these books because I love them so much but they're just so easy to fall into that I end up devouring them in a few sittings.


The Cryptic Clue is set in 1966 Sydney, just a street or two from my current office. That proximity adds an extra layer to the reading experience, walking down those same laneways and picturing Hazel, Betty, Merle and Irene stepping through a bygone version of the city.


In this adventure, the tea ladies are juggling a plot that threatens national security, a coded message promising the spoils of a bank robbery and tensions at Empire Fashionwear over job cuts. It's cosy crime in all its glory.


I love the way that Hampson captures the rhythm of 1960s work life. You can almost live the tea trolley rolling in, the banter and the biscuits. And there’s a delightful commentary tucked in exploring the looming automation of tea services, class divides (cream biscuits vs plain ones), and the quiet power of a group of women who refuse to be sidelined. There is humour tinged with sadness in the character's reflections that no automated tea station where workers can simply help themselves to tea would ever replace a tea lady. 


I especially love how close I feel to Hazel. She is observant, pragmatic, and grounded. And thanks to the setting, I can picture her ducking into a corner café in Surry Hills and spotting clues between sips of tea.


If you’re a fan of cosy crime and strong, clever women (and especially if Sydney’s your city) The Cryptic Clue is an absolute delight. It's smart, witty, and just the right level of puzzling without tipping into overly dark territory. Highly recommended, I can't wait for the next one but at the same time I am delaying it to savour the experience of the series. 

Review: Bliss by Peter Carey


 Well… this was a bit of a ride.

I finally read Bliss by Peter Carey as part of efforts to read the winners of Australia's Miles Franklin Awards (it was the 1981 Winner, here is a record of my efforts so far). Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. It’s one of those books that made me feel like I had missed something important, like there was a deeper meaning just out of reach, but I couldn’t quite grab hold of it. People rave about Carey, and this one was his debut novel which kickstarted his career and won the Miles Franklin Award, but I just didn’t connect with it.

The novel opens with Harry Joy, an advertising executive, literally dying and coming back to life. After that, he becomes convinced he’s living in hell. And from there, it just gets stranger. There’s satire, there’s surrealism, there’s environmentalism, there’s infidelity, there’s a woman in a tree… it’s all happening, and yet I found myself mostly confused and detached.

Carey’s writing is clever but I didn’t feel emotionally invested. I spent a lot of the book trying to work out what was going on, or more often what I was meant to take from it. I think it was meant to be funny in parts, or biting in its social commentary, but it all felt a bit kooky for kooky’s sake. Maybe it was pushing boundaries at the time, but now it just feels kind of… odd?

There were moments where I caught glimpses of what Carey was trying to do which was critiquing consumerism and playing with ideas of personal transformation etc, but I struggled to care about Harry or the other strange characters. Maybe that’s the point? Maybe it’s all meant to be disorienting and ironic and a little absurd. If so then he met the brief, but not in a good way - at least for me.

That said, I can sort of see why it’s a classic of Australian literature. It’s bold, and Carey clearly wasn’t interested in writing a straightforward story. But I don’t think I’ll be rushing to read it again or recommending it to anyone unless they’re in the mood for something truly bizarre.

So: clever, a bit crazy, a bit kooky. Not really my thing. But if you like your fiction strange and satirical, Bliss might be the book for you.

Review: Revisiting The Chrysalids by John Wyndham

 


"Watch thou for the Mutant; Keep pure the stock of the Lord."

I first reviewed The Chrysalids in 2011 and declared it one of my favourite books of all time and honestly, nothing has changed. I’ve now read it multiple times, and each time I pick it up I’m gripped all over again. It’s one of those rare books that never loses its power for me. Every time I read it I find myself holding my breath in the same places, turning the pages fast and completely absorbed. 


Written in 1955, The Chrysalids is a post-apocalyptic novel set in a future that feels alarmingly possible. Society has collapsed (we assume due to nuclear disaster), and the survivors have retreated into a fundamentalist worldview where 'purity' is everything. It’s a rigid, brutal world in which any deviation from the norm (whether animal, plant, or person) caused by the nuclear disaster is hunted out and destroyed.


The protagonist and narrator, David, is a quiet boy growing up in this strict religious farming community. But he’s also harbouring a dangerous secret: he has telepathic powers. There are others like him who can communicate silently across great distances and who realise that they must band together for survival and hide what they are. But of course, that only lasts so long. The tension builds as David and the others are forced to run, ultimately placing all their hopes in a mysterious, advanced society from a far-away land called Sealand (which is very obviously meant to be New Zealand, I love that).


Reading it again, what continues to impress me is just how modern this book still feels. Wyndham might be writing from the 1950s, but his insights into bigotry, conformity, fear and power could be written today. The Chrysalids is a novel about intolerance, and I don't just mean the overt kind. Importantly, it's about subtle, systemic, internalised intolerance. It asks huge questions in a deceptively simple way: What is 'normal' and who gets to decide? What happens when you fall outside of that?


What stood out more on this re-read is just how unsettling some of the ethical questions are. Wyndham doesn’t make it easy for us to pick sides. The religious fundamentalists are clearly oppressive, but the Sealanders, with all their superiority and cool detachment, are not necessarily the comforting saviours they appear to be. There’s a moment near the end when one of the Sealand women explains, without emotion, why those who can't communicate telepathically will inevitably be left behind. And you realise that every society, no matter how advanced it considers itself to be, has its own intolerances and dogma.


That’s what I love about this book. It’s not just thrilling and absorbing, it also leaves you thinking long after you’ve put it down. I keep returning to the idea that prejudice never looks the same twice. It mutates, just like the people and animals in the story.


This time around, I couldn’t help but see the parallels with today’s politics, particularly in the US where groups like Trump supporters rail against things like "liberal cancel culture” and preach about free speech and traditional values, while simultaneously banning books, suppressing education, and attacking anyone who doesn’t conform to their version of what’s 'normal'. It’s the same pattern Wyndham explores - a fear of difference and change disguised as moral certainty.


And we’ve seen shades of it here in Australia too. I reflect on the national debate around the Voice referendum and the way some political leaders painted the proposal as divisive while encouraging fear, misinformation and a rigid definition of unity that excluded actual inclusion. It’s not hard to draw a line from that kind of rhetoric back to Waknuk. In both cases, it’s about controlling the narrative of what belongs, and what doesn’t.


Wyndham reminds us that intolerance often wears the mask of righteousness. Whether it’s religious purity in Waknuk and the US or political dogma and national identity debates in Australia and the US, the urge to define and destroy the 'other' is disturbingly persistent.


I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. The Chrysalids is easily my favourite Wyndham. It's one of my all-time favourite books full stop. And somehow, it keeps getting better and more relevant every time I read it.

Review: The Lost Man by Jane Harper

 


There is a particular comfort in a Jane Harper novel. She reliably provides a great read for when you want to be hooked but you don't want to be challenged. Her novels are always very similar, geographically and thematically, and she has become one of my favourite authors for when I want to pull myself out of a bit of a reading slump. That sounds a little negative, but I don't mean it to, I enjoy her novels and think that they would be appealing to a wide audience. 


The Lost Man transports readers to the blistering sun and dusty expanses of the Australian outback, to the fictional Spinner family cattle station in regional Queensland. The novel opens with the death of Cameron “Cam” Spinner, found near an isolated historical grave in scorching heat. His vehicle is found abandoned some kilometres away, with no explanation for why he would have abandoned the car and found himself at the isolated spot he ultimately met his death. His brother Nathan finds himself unravelling what happened to Cam.  


Harper uses shifting timelines to uncover fractures in the family. Cam’s death might be accident, suicide, or something darker. Each chapter peels back another layer of familial history. There is resentment between the brothers, buried disputes and Cam, Bub and Nathan’s fraught relationship with their abusive father. The tension builds gradually until the reveal, with no major twists along the way. The tension arises from suppressed emotions, strained silences, and obligations born of duty. They silently move around each other, usually being careful not to revisit old wounds in their dealings with one another and occasionally airing old grievances. In other words, it's a slow burn and good for if you want something atmospheric and psychological.


Harper’s rendering of the outback makes it almost a character in and of itself. It is oppressive but beautiful. Like with The Dry and Force of Nature (also great books), Harper uses the landscape of the setting to heighten tension. The physical landscape and the psychological landscapes mirror each other.  


Although I enjoyed it a lot, I did enjoy The Dry, Forces of Nature and even Exiles slightly more. The slow build in The Lost Man, although effective, at times felt a little slower than I would have preferred and I found myself waiting for it to speed up a little. Nonetheless, I recommend The Lost Man if you’re drawn to character‑driven mysteries set in evocative landscapes, with a slow‑burn reveal and emotional depth.

Six Degrees of Separation (July): Theory and Practice to Babel: Or The Necessity of Violence

The meme is hosted by Books are My Favourite Best and is described thus: On the first Saturday of every month, a book is chosen as a starting point and linked to six other books to form a chain. Readers and bloggers are invited to join in by creating their own ‘chain’ leading from the selected book. Each person’s chain will look completely different. It doesn’t matter what the connection is or where it takes you – just take us on the journey with you.


This month starts with Theory and Practice by Michelle de Kretser:

In the late 1980s, the narrator of Theory & Practice—a first generation immigrant from Sri Lanka who moved to Sydney in her childhood—sets up a life in Melbourne for graduate school. Jilted by a lover who cheats on her with another self-described "feminist," she is thrown into deeper confusion about her identity and the people around her.

I admit to only having read one book by Michelle de Kretser, The Lost Dog and I wasn't enamoured with it. I know I've read so many good things about Theory and Practice, but I don't think it will be high on my priority list. 


Babel The Time Traveller's Wife The Vintner's Luck
The Book Thief Kevin Deathly Hallows
A favourite book of mine by an Australian author - The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (my review here). Love it, everyone should read it, one of my all-time favourite books. I could rave all day about this. 

Another book that begins at the end: We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver (my review here). This novel is epic. It had me completely hysterical at the end. I remember calling my husband crying and worrying him that something was really wrong. It was, but fortunately just in the story. 

I also cried like a baby in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling (my review here), when Dobby died. He died a hero's death, but goodness it was heartbreaking. 

Another tearjerker - The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (my review here). I love this book. One my absolute favourites and I would read it more often if it wasn't right at the top of my bookcase where I can't reach it. 

I am noticing a theme that a lot of the books that I would say are my favourite also make me cry. I will have to do some self-reflection about this at a later date. 

With that in mind, another favourite book but this time one that didn't make me cry: The Vintner's Luck by Elizabeth Knox (my review here). I've never met anyone else who has read this so if you have, please make yourself known! Similar to The Time Traveller's Wife it's a magical realism novel, but in this case it's not time travel but a vintner in the early 19th century who makes friends / falls in love with an angel. Sounds weird, but its beautiful. 

Finally, the most recent book that I read that could be considered magical realism was Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence by Rebecca F Kuang (my review here). Wonderful deep dive into the question of how necessary violence is to bring about real, important, and necessary social change. Definitely a relevant question for today. 


June 2025: What I read





The Women by Kristin Hannah: An historical novel exploring the experience of women who served in the Vietnam War. I really enjoyed this novel. Being only in my 40s I am too young to have memory of the Vietnam War, and this was an easily accessible read that explored the experiences of a group of women that history has previously ignored somewhat. 
  
The Safe Keep by Yael Van Der Wouden: This is a hard one to summarise. It is set in post-post Netherlands and is a deep exploration of..... perhaps I could say the weight of history on our personal lives and identities. 

The Mystery Writer by Sulari Gentill: A mystery story about a young writer who seeks to discover the identity of her mentor and lover's murderer. I love Gentill's Rowland Sinclair novels. Initially I really enjoyed this book, but I liken it a little to The Nowhere Child which I read recently - it starts off strong and then completely lost me with it ludicrous ending. 

The Chrysalids by John Wyndham: My favourite of Wyndham's novels. No matter how many times I read it, I can't put it down. 

The Good Turn and The Scholar by Dervla Tiernan: Books 2 & 3 in the Cormac Reilly series. After not being entirely excited by the first in this series, I actually think that they get better as the series progresses. 
 
Bliss by Peter Carey: Seriously kooky - really, I have no idea what I read or why I read it. Honestly, just a bizarre book, I barely know what to say. 

The Cryptic Clue: A Tea Ladies Mystery by Amanda Sampson: I love this series. I am trying to read it slowly because I enjoy it so much, but honestly if you are into a cosy detective book - this series is for you. Bonus for me is that it is set in the streets down from my current office building and so I try to imagine myself on those streets, back in the 1950s and 1960s, and really see the story through the eyes of the characters.  


Insomnia reads 

My insomnia reads - those books I read late at night when insomnia has me in its grips. In June I did what I try very hard not to do and just read my day books at night time. I try to avoid this because a new book will keep me in its grip, which makes it harder to put it down and at least try to rest. Much of The Mystery Writer by Sulari Gentill was read late at night. 

I did, however, have one insomnia read this month: A Caribbean Mystery by Agatha Christie. It was chosen at random and I had read it enough to know 'who dunnit' so the mystery element wasn't there to keep me reading longer than I should.

WWW Wednesday: 2 July 2025

  WWW Wednesday is a meme that is hosted by Taking on a World of Words. It's a very simple premise of sharing with others The Three Ws:


What are you currently reading? 
What did you recently finish reading? 
What do you think you’ll read next?



Currently reading


This is the final book by Hannah Kent that I will have read, and I think I can now confidently say that Kent is one of my favourite authors. I am really enjoying this so far and am trying to read it slowly and savour it given I will need to wait for her to write another book before I can read anything else by her. 


Just finished



I most recently finished The Women by Kristin Hannah, which provided a meaningful and easily accessible insight into the experiences of women who served in the Vietnam War. 


I also recently finished The Safe Keep by Yael Van Der Wouden and I highly recommend it. It was written do beautifully and deeply delves into deeply personal matters that are also important social issues for the world, really, to grapple with. 


What is next?


Who knows. Too Much Lip by Melissa Lucashenko. I recently purchased Midnight and Blue by Ian Rankin after seeing him speak at the Sydney Writers Festival (my post here) and Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. But I also would really like to read another book by Kristin Hannah. The world is my oyster. 


WWW Wednesday: 18 June 2025

  WWW Wednesday is a meme that is hosted by Taking on a World of Words. It's a very simple premise of sharing with others The Three Ws:


What are you currently reading? 
What did you recently finish reading? 
What do you think you’ll read next?


Just finished




I just finished The Mystery Writer Sulari Gentill. I love Gentill's Rowland Sinclair series, and this was the first of her novels that I have read since completing the Sinclair series. What did I think? I read it compulsively much longer into the night than I should have, and then those final few chapters..... anyone else who has read this will know what I mean. It did not have a satisfying ending. More thoughts incoming in a future review. 


Currently reading




When I saw that The Safe Keep by Yael Van Der Wouden (shortlisted for the Booker Prize 2024) won the Women's Prize for Fiction 2025 I decided it was time to pick it up. I started it on Monday and, so far, I love it. 


What will I read next?

Honestly, every time I try to answer this, I read something else, so take this with a grain of salt. I have borrowed on my eReader The Women by Kristin Hannah, and I had better read that before they take it off me. Other candidates are Bel Canto and The Blue Sisters. 


Open to suggestions!
 

Recent reviews:

Review: The Nowhere Child by Christian White


I had read quite a few positive reviews of The Nowhere Child by Christian White and so it seemed serendipitous when I came across it for $3 at a local book fair. 


'Her name is Sammy Went. This photo was taken on her second birthday. Three days later she was gone.' On a break between teaching photography classes in Melbourne, Kim Leamy is approached by a stranger investigating the disappearance of a little girl from her Kentucky home twenty-eight years earlier. He believes Kim is that girl. At first she brushes it off, but when Kim scratches the surface of her family history in Australia, questions arise that aren't easily answered. To find the truth, she must travel to Sammy's home of Manson, Kentucky, and into a dark past. As the mystery of Sammy's disappearance unravels and the town's secrets are revealed, this superb novel builds towards an electrifying climax. Inspired by Gillian Flynn's frenetic suspense and Stephen King's masterful world-building, The Nowhere Child is a combustible tale of trauma, cult, conspiracy and memory. It is the remarkable debut of Christian White, an exhilarating new Australian talent.


The Nowhere Child, is Australian author Christian White’s debut novel, had a tantalising premise - at least for me - and it definitely hooked me within the first few pages. It begins with a woman in Hobart, Tasmania, Kim, being approached at work by a man who says that he believes she is not who she thinks she is. Within days, Kim realises that she may not be who she thinks she is, and she is drawn into the disappearance of a two-year-old Sammy Went many years ago in the USA.  The story began very strong. I was hooked, the writing was direct, and the story felt cinematic.


But somewhere along the road, probably at about the halfway mark, the book lost its way. 


The story goes back and forth between past and present and as the mystery deepens, so does the cast of characters. We explore a small-town American community full of secrets, fundamentalist religion (cult) and its followers and troubled family members. And while I appreciate the way in which the narrative unfolded, I increasingly found myself unconvinced by the direction the story and I increasingly started to wonder why so many of the characters would behave the way that they did. 


That's where The Nowhere Child lost me - the balance between drama, mystery and believability wasn't quite right. The eventual solution to the mystery felt too far-fetched and arrived far too suddenly. It then ended with a speed that left me oddly unsatisfied. I wanted more from the characters emotionally, more time to process what the story meant beyond its twists.


It wasn't all bad. I enjoyed it and there were moments of tension and emotion. But to be frank, when it reached its conclusion, I thought "come one, seriously?" In short, it started strong but didn't fulfil its promise.

Review: The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin by Alison Goodman


The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin by Alison Goodman


This is the second in Goodman’s “Ill-Mannered Ladies” series, which follows my new favourite twin sisters Lady Augusta (Gus) and Lady Julia Colebrook. I enjoyed the first in the series so much that I pre-ordered this and read it as soon as it was released. The Colebrook twins are fabulous - unmarried, unapologetic, unrelentingly curious and courageous as anyone could hope to be. In this book, the sisters find themselves helping fugitive Lord Evan and his sister, by saving the sister from the clutches of their eldest brother and trying to clear Lord Evan's name of the murder he has been convicted of.  


I actually think I preferred this second instalment to the first. It is so entertaining - Sherlock Holmes meets righteous feminist indignation. I think what improved this story for me was that rather than focusing on several mysteries, it followed the one throughout. What really makes this such an entertaining book is the relationship between Gus and Julia. They are so different, and yet so loyal to one another. They can read each other's minds and yet at times are so exasperating to one another.  I loved them in the first book (The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies), and I loved them even more here. They feel like the kind of women you might want to write old-fashioned letters to and would find highly intelligent and entertaining correspondents. 


And the romance, sigh. Gus continues her slow-burning romance with Lord Evan, who remains on the run from the law. Julia starts her own romance with a bow-street runner, a more subtle romance than that of Gud and Lord Evan, but obviously still deeply felt. What is great about this series is that despite Gus and Julia having romantic interests in the story, they remain committed to what I would call social injustice and the restrictions that society places upon them due to their age and gender.  


I highly recommend this series, written by an Australian author. Start with the The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies and know that it will get even better in The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin


Review & Author Talk: Hannah Kent on her memoir Always Home, Always Homesick (Sydney Writers' Festival event)



Hannah Kent, where do I begin. After I had my children, I suddenly found it very hard to read and write. Over time, I gave up my blogging (Page Turners) and stopped reading. When I did read, I usually re-read. It was Hannah Kent's Burial Rites that was the first fresh book that I had read for a long time that grabbed and retained my interest. I became lost in it, and I have loved Hannah's Kent's writing every since. 


I was so excited when I saw that Hannah Kent would be speaking at the Sydney Writers Festival, and at a lovely local bowling club that I was very familiar with. I reached out to my girlfriends, and we all agreed that we would have a mid-week night out together to listen to Kent speak about her new memoir Always Home, Always Homesick. 


I feel very fortunate to have been able to see Kent speak about this work which is no doubt special to her. She spoke so articulately and lyrically about her experience of Iceland and of writing. I could hear her written voice coming through and she had the audience engaged with her unique experience of living in Iceland and later writing about a well-known Icelandic story of the final execution in the country. 


The review

Always Home, Always Homesick is a memoir written with the lyrical quality Kent is known for. The memoir delves into her experience as a teenage exchange student to the beautiful Iceland, which has become her home away from home. It has a non-linear structure, moving between her experience as a teenager living with host families, as a creative writing student researching for Burial Rites, and her experience as a new mother reflecting on her experiences in the past and how they have shaped her. The structure means that the memoir is fragmented, but it is very cohesive and, in a way, deeply intimate. 


As the title suggests, the main theme of the memoir is the paradox of feeling at home and homesick at the same time. While in Iceland as a teenager, Kent feels homesick for her family and friends, but eventually comes to feel a sense of belonging. Eventually, she becomes deeply connected to Iceland and feels homesick for it - especially as she struggles through those early weeks and months with a newborn. It evokes in her a sense of longing. What was interesting in the Sydney Writers Festival author talk was that she spoke about discovering that home for her also meant writing. She felt at home in writing, and could feel at home wherever she was, so long as she was writing. I that sense Always Home, Always Homesick shows home as a physical location, but also as an emotional state. 


Much of the memoir provided insight into Kent’s creative writing practice and how it's changed over time. I loved reading about how she would write stories under a special tree at her family home and kept journals as she grew up and as she travelled. During the author talk she spoke about how she felt at home in her writing writing, but I had sense during the memoir that writing was also how she processed her experiences and feelings.  


Always Home, Always Homesick also contains Kent's reflections on motherhood. It begins with Kent awakening from a deep dream, but finding herself still in almost a dreamlike state as she wakes to feed her newborn. She reflects on how motherhood changed her body, her mind and her sense of time - all things that I thoroughly identify with. She explores the tension between her need for solitude and creative space but also her new role as a primary caregiver for young children. It was funny at the author talk to hear her reflect on her writing process pre and post children. Before children Kent had a strict writing routine that she believed was essential to the writing process. Having children taught her that she still tap into her creativity, despite having background noise and mess and interruptions - something all parents need to get used to. 


The memoir contains such evocative descriptions of Iceland, I have become determined to visit one day to see the beauty for myself. In her descriptions of Iceland and Australia, Kent describes the natural world so beautifully and clearly that one can't help but feel she must have a deep connection to the natural world.


In short, Always Home, Always Homesick is a beautiful memoir that combines personal experiences, intimate insights and evocative descriptions of Iceland. If you haven't read anything by Hannah Kent before, I suggest that you start with her debut novel Burial Rites, which is directly linked to this special memoir. For fans of Kent's fiction, you will love this foray into non-fiction. The Good People is the only one of Kent's novels that I have not yet read, and at the author talk I was able to purchase a copy and have Kent sign it. It is definitely a book that I will treasure. 

  

Six Degree (June) 2025 Women’s Prize for Fiction, All Fours by Miranda July.

The meme is hosted by Books are My Favourite Best and is described thus: On the first Saturday of every month, a book is chosen as a starting point and linked to six other books to form a chain. Readers and bloggers are invited to join in by creating their own ‘chain’ leading from the selected book. Each person’s chain will look completely different. It doesn’t matter what the connection is or where it takes you – just take us on the journey with you.


This month starts with All Fours by Miranda July, which has been shortlisted for the Women's Prize for Fiction 2025. It is described as: 

"A semifamous artist announces her plan to drive cross-country, from LA to New York. Twenty minutes after leaving her husband and child at home, she spontaneously exits the freeway, beds down in a nondescript motel, and immerses herself in a temporary reinvention that turns out to be the start of an entirely different journey."

 

I hadn't heard of this until this month's Six Degrees of Separation. However, the envisaged long cross-country drive in All Fours made me immediately think about The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver, which I read last year. It's Kingsolver's first novel and is the story of a young woman named Taylor who takes a cross-country drive that leads to an unexpected turn in her life.



Keeping to the theme of cross-country drives, I can't go past The Passage by Justin Cronin, a post-apocalyptic novel set around a zombie-apocalypse (of sorts). The early stages of The Passage depict a road trip taken by FBI Agent Brad Wolgast, as he seeks to rescue and protect a small girl, Amy, from the federal government. I won't spoil it too much, but I honestly love this book and it's still one of my favourites. Sadly, the sequels didn't measure up, which is often the case.



The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's another post-apocalyptic novel about a father and his son journeying across America after an event has wiped out most of humankind. I read this quite some time ago and remember it being very bleak and dark. There's something about post-apocalyptic novels that create such a great setting for a long journey across country.



The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham, another of my favourites and another post-apocalyptic novel with a road trip—this time by the narrator Bill Masen and a woman he rescues from captors, Susan. Together they travel across England looking for other survivors to band together with and fight for survival.



Finally, you just can't go past The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien when it comes to talking about long cross-country trips. I mean – Bilbo crosses Middle Earth on his own path and journey. An epic tale of courage, friendship, and the battle between good and evil.





And of course, The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, where Frodo embarks on a perilous cross-country journey across Middle Earth to destroy the One Ring. Another legendary epic full of adventure and high stakes. Chef’s kiss.


I look forward to reading what everyone else had come up with for this month. Feel free to review my posts about the Sydney Writers Festival which I attended recently. At Big Beginnings I saw Kaliane Bradley (The Ministry of Time), Ferdia Lennon (Glorious Exploits) and Dominic Amerena (I Want Everything) speak about their journey to publishing their debut novels. At Untrue Crime I saw Ian Rankin, Kate McClymont and Shankari Chandran (Unfinished Business) speak about the important of truth and authenticity in crime writing. 

Sydney Writers' Festival: Big Beginnings - Ferdia Lennon, Kaliane Bradley & Dominic Amerena

Last week I was lucky enough to attend the Sydney Writers' Festival. 


The good news is that I was able to attend three events in person: a talk by Hannah Kent about her new memoir Always Home, Always Homesick (which I will write about in a separate post with a review of the books), Untrue Crime and Big Beginnings. 



Big Beginnings

In this panel discussion, three debut novelists discuss their emergence as writers and the journey to publication.

 

I was really looking forward to this one. Big Beginnings was a panel discussion between Ferdia Lennon (Irish, Glorious Exploits), Kaliane Bradley (British, The Ministry of Time) and Dominic Amerena (Australian, I Want Everything). The panel facilitated by Australian author Madeleine Gray, whose debt book Green Dot I loved and reviewed very recently.

 

Although I had hoped to try to read the books before the session, the only book I had read was The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley (my thoughts here).

 

This session focused on their journey to publication. Gray led them chronologically through their writing process, seeking an agent and achieving publication. All three authors reflected on being taken by surprise at the speed of their success once their agents had found a publisher and not quite believing that they had found themselves so successful so quickly.

 

Interestingly, Bradley spoke about seeking an agent and publisher on an anonymous basis. Her fear was that because she worked in the publishing industry she would be picked up because of her connections, something that she wanted to avoid. Of the three authors, she spoke the most about the gruelling editing process, which for her took 12 months. I thought this was interesting because something I felt as I read her book was that it was trying to be too many things at once and could perhaps of needed a little more editing.

 

Lennon clearly had a long-standing fascination with Syracuse that he has been able to tap into when writing his novel, and Amerena spoke on his novel arising from what was a subplot in a different novel he had been writing. It was an interesting reflection for me on the creative process – that a story can arise from within a story. A common thread in the discussion of Lennon and Amerena was the strength of voice in their characters which helps the characters really come to life for the reader.

 

In short, this session was a fascinating insight into the world of first-time publication. It tried to demystify the process and experience of debut novelists, while celebrating the creative sparks that lead to powerful storytelling. Each author brought a different path and perspective, but what united them was a shared sense of surprise at their success and a deep commitment to their craft. It was especially interesting to hear about the behind-the-scenes work (for example, editing, self-doubt, persistence) that creates the polished books we read. 



WWW Wednesday: 4 June 2025

 WWW Wednesday is a meme that is hosted by Taking on a World of Words. It's a very simple premise of sharing with others The Three Ws:


What are you currently reading? 
What did you recently finish reading? 
What do you think you’ll read next?


Just finished




I'm starting with just finished because I have just finished two books. A few days ago, I finished Bliss by Peter Carey which was absolutely bonkers and quite frankly I am proud of myself for finishing it. Last night I finished reading The Scholar by Dervla Tiernan. It's the second book in the Cormac Reilly series. I felt very ambivalent about the first book but I am on holidays and wanted an easy read. I am glad I persevered because The Scholar was far better than the first book and I am now looking forward to the next. 


What's next?


Last night I finished my book - this morning I woke up with the freedom of choice. I am on my way home from a few days away, so I have time up my sleeve to choose. I think that it will either be The Good People by Hannah Kent or The Weekend by Charlotte Wood, but only time will tell. 

Literary Wives: The Constant Wife by W. Somerset Maugham

Literary Wives is an on-line book group that examines the meaning and role of wife in different books. Every other month, we post and discuss a book with this question in mind: 

What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife? 

Don’t forget to check out the other members of Literary Wives to see what they have to say about the book!

Other participants:

This is my very first foray into the Literary Wives Book Club and I feel very lucky to be able to participate. It's been such a long time since I had the opportunity to talk books with others. This is definitely one of the great things about the internet. 


The Constant Wife by W Somerset Maughan



Maughan's The Constant Wife is the first play that I have read for some time. Written in the 1920s, it was considered very subversive in its depiction of marriage and gender roles. The play centres on Constance Middleton. Constance appears to be a lucky wife who lives a charmed life married to a successful doctor. What the audience soon learns is that her husband is having an affair with her best friend. When the news is eventually broken to Constance, she admits to knowing it all along. She doesn't feign heartbreak and instead, once the news is out in the open, Constance decides that the time has come to reclaim her independence by pursuing a career and her right to romantic and sexual autonomy. 


What does The Constant Wife say about wives or about the experience of being a wife? 


What sticks with me the most from reading The Constant Wife is the double standards in the standard by which men and women were held. Constance's husband, John, is excused for his infidelity. His infidelity is put down to an inherent weakness of males, who simply can't help themselves (poor things) and it's therefore considered excusable, particularly seen in Constance's mother's attitude toward his affair. This attitude absolves him of responsibility because he is simply a man who is a slave to his impulses. As a woman born into today, I almost don't blame them for taking this attitude. In truth, to me as a woman born into today, it feels like necessary mental gymnastics that women needed to enter into to cope with their lack of power within marriage and broader society. 


The double standards were even clearer considering how Constance was expected to react in response to discovering her husband's affair. Again, Constance's mother provides the perfect example of this. She expects Constance to maintain appearances to others and to preserve her relationship despite her husband's disrespect and betrayal. 


This is the experience of being a wife in the 1920s (and no doubt at other times) - men's affairs are tolerated - women must be forgiving, whether they feel that way or not. Most people, whether wilfully or otherwise, didn't see this as a double standard, but Maugham through Constance, calls society out. 


Double standards were then on show when John discovers that Constance may be about to embark upon an affair. Given his infidelity and her economic independence, Constance doesn't feel the need to hide this from him. His reaction, however, is to respond to her announcement with anger and control. He talks of 'not letting her' do such a thing and declares that she is doing him the greatest of injury. Although Constance reminds him that he conducted an affair with her best friend, he brushes it aside as not the same thing and demands to know whether this is instead her payback. 


This relates to something that I found a little striking in how their relationship is portrayed and that's in the way that Constance and John both in a way are faking their relationship in some way. How they came to be together is touched on in such a light way. It's almost presented as if Constance had numerous romantic options as a young lady, and John was the one the gentleman who seemed best. So, she chose him, and called it love, and carried on with her life until the events of the play unfold. John, while having an affair, pretends to be the perfect doting husband. Constance pretends to be the perfect wife, going so far as to hide her knowledge of the affair for some time. Constance's experience of being a wife exists almost on the surface, and when that surface becomes disturbed, she is forced to deal with something more important and integral - her experience of being herself and what it means to value herself as an independent person. John 


How does she do this? Shock - horror. She seeks employment by becoming an interior designer. That's right, she seeks not just emotional independence from her husband but financial independence as well. For a very long the experience of being a wife meant being financially dependent upon her husband. We know that many women find themselves still unable to escape dangerous relationships for this very reason. Constance claims her financial dependence and to demonstrate her freedom, Constance transfers money into John's bank account for her board and lodging. John clearly feels emasculated but Constance stands her ground, insisting on paying for her room and board so that "I could tell you, with calm and courtesy, but with determination, to go to hell."


Nonetheless, although Constance claims her economic independence which would have been very progressive for the time, it is still within the bounds of the gendered society within which they lived. Constance feels the need to pay board and lodging to her husband, despite it being their family home. Her contribution as mother and home maker is not sufficiently recognised to suggest that she may have some ownership of their shared home. John still spoke of allowing Constance to work - "Anyhow, you wanted to work and I yielded". When Constance talks about potentially commencing an affair of her how, John speaks of 'not allowing her'. I suspect the reality is that given his position as a male in 1920s society, he most likely could have prevented her if he so chose.


In the end, The Constant Wife reveals that being a wife (at least in the world of the 1920s) meant living within carefully scripted gender roles that almost meant sacrificing your own self to preserve appearance. Through Constance, Maugham exposes the unspoken truth of marriage and the double standards that can exist in marriages as a result of gender toles. Constance shows the strength it takes to speak those truths and step outside the bounds of what society allows for her gender. I think what I am trying to say is that being a wife is a role in marriage, but it is also a role within society. Constance’s ultimate choice is to value herself beyond that role and to be true to to herself.


May 2025: What I read

I enjoyed the month of May - reading wise. I didn't push myself too hard. I mostly stuck with books that I either knew I would love, or I knew wouldn't tax my little grey cells. I had a rough month workwise, and so I wanted ease of reading and a great story. 



Always Home, Always Homesick by Hannah Kent and The Ladies Guide to Utter Ruin by Alison Goodman were absolutely my favourite books of the month. Both of which I had pre-ordered and read as soon as they were released. I was lucky enough to see Hannah Kent speak at the Sydney Writer's Festival about her memoir Always Home, Always Homesick and was even able to have her sign a copy of The Good People, the last of her books that I have yet to read. And The Ladies Guide to Utter Ruin – what can I say, so much fun this series. I can't wait for the next one.



The Lost Man by Jane Harper and The Nowhere Child by Christian White are both Australian crime / mystery books. Jane Harper is such a reliable author. You can be sure that you will read an engaging mystery that will keep you page turning until the end, and The Lost Man was no exception.

The Nowhere Child is Christian White's debut novel and is the story of a woman who discovers that she was kidnapped as a child from a small US town and taken to Tasmania to live a new life with new parents. This is the story of her discovery and exploration of what her true story is. I had read quite a few good reviews of this book. For me, I would say it was OK. I mean, I read it. It was harmless. But it didn’t really do it for me.



The Constant Wife by W Somerset Maugham - I read this for the new Literary Wives book club that I have joined. It's been that long since I read a play - it was actually a really enjoyable new experience. Review pending as part of the book club. 



Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by JK Rowling - this was my insomnia read for the month of May. A reliable read I know I love and can just as easily pick it up and put it down in the middle of the night as I fight my demons and search for sleep. 

Sydney Writers' Festival: Untrue Crime - Shankari Chandran, Ian Rankin & Kate McClymont

Last week I was lucky enough to attend the Sydney Writers' Festival. 


Not to bore anyone too much with my backstory, but...... I used to attend the Sydney Writers' Festival religiously. I would spend all day on the Saturday and Sunday going from event to event and attend some extra events throughout the week. With the arrival of my children, it just became harder and harder to find the time between birthday parties and kid's activities and eventually I let it go. 


This is the first year I have really made an effort, and it was really worth the wait. The Festival itself has changed a fair bit. The venue has changed, but more so it had gone from a mostly free event to a mostly paid event. I don't necessarily blame the Festival. With rising costs, I am sure that this was a necessary evil, even if it may mean that it becomes less accessible for a wider audience. There were live streaming tickets that could be purchased - and I purchased these for the Saturday and Sunday and was able to watch a wide range of sessions across the weekend. 


The good news is that I was able to attend three events in person: a talk by Hannah Kent about her new memoir Always Home, Always Homesick (which I will write about in a separate post with a review of the books), Untrue Crime and Big Beginnings. 



Untrue Crime: Kate McClymont, Shankari Chandran & Ian Rankin

Novelist Shankari Chandran, investigative journalist Kate McClymont and Diamond Dagger Award winner Ian Rankin discuss the line between fact and fiction in the stories they tell about crime. 

This session was hosted by Australian author Michael Robotham and explored the authors' experience of truth in their crime writing. It added variety to have Kate McClymont on the panel to provide the perspective of someone writing from a non-fiction / journalist perspective where the crimes that she writes about are true. Kate spoke so articulately and with great humour about the challenges of writing true crime: doing the research, collecting the sources, testing the sources, balancing detail with a desire to engage the reader and, as a lawyer, my favourite part - avoiding defamation proceedings. 


Chandran and Rankin spoke about the importance of using facts and accuracy, as far as possible, to ground their fiction in reality and create a more authentic experience for the reader. I loved hearing Ian Rankin talk about his approach of writing his first draft as the starting point - and researching second. He spoke about setting one of his crimes on a particular street in Edinburgh and then finding during his research that the street had been dig up to put tram lines down. Rather than move the crime, he wrote the road works into the story, making his detectives have to tackle with where they would park their cars and the mortuary van as they investigated the crime. 


In truth, I hadn't enjoyed Unfinished Business by Chandran as much as I would have liked to (my review here). It helped to hear Chandran speak. I identified with her in some ways. We are similarly aged, both lawyers, both mothers doing the balancing act. 


She spoke about the ethics of gathering information to use in her writing – ethics in crime writing was a theme throughout the session. Chandran’s book deals with the oppression and war against the Tamil population of Sri Lanka. She spoke about understanding the trauma of those individuals who experienced the war and therefore not approaching individuals for their stories and instead focusing on what is publicly available or formal government sources. However, she did say in some circumstances individuals approach her, hoping she can tell their story in a way that they can’t do in Sri Lanka. In those cases, she does listen to their story, and it might form part of her writing.

 

McClymont is bound by journalistic ethics, and Rankin spoke about basing his writing on true stories that were already in the public sphere. He did share a story of a woman turning up a speaking event and realising that she was one of the women involved in the case that he had based his book on. It would have been interesting to hear some more reflections from Ranking about the ethics of crime writing in that respect. If it’s a true case, happening to real people out their in community – does the fact that is has been reported on in the media mean that its fair game to use in fiction writing? I think Rankin would obviously say yes.


Overall, this was a thoughtful and engaging session that highlighted the blurred boundaries between fact and fiction in crime writing. Each panellist brought a unique perspective to the ethical and practical challenges of writing about crime, whether imagined or real. As a lawyer and a reader, I was particularly struck by the depth of reflection around ethics and how writers reckon with the consequences of telling stories drawn from real lives, and the responsibility they bear in doing so.