In 2014, I completed a year-long 1-second-a-day project. My kids still ask to watch the seven minute result, enjoying the flashes of the everyday and odd sound-grabs. I was reminded of it when I read Dominic Smith’s latest novel, The Electric Hotel.
The novel focuses on Claude Ballard, a pioneer of silent films.
Strangers have always interested me, Claude said. The way they illuminate their own sorrows or joys when you least expect it. It might be half a second of staring into space, then it vanishes. Continue reading
Argh! Three excellent reading challenges for the month of November – what will I do? How can I squeeze them all in?!
My library recently got a bunch of new audio books (aside from cosy mysteries!), so I’ve put podcasts on hold and indulged in audios. Continue reading
Three ARCs that have been languishing in the TBR stack for far too long… Continue reading
A Constant Hum by Alice Bishop is a quiet, contemplative collection of stories about a brutal topic – the 2009 Victorian Black Saturday bushfires.
You remember mostly, three a.m.: they found our neighbours in clusters, mostly in amalgam fillings and tyre rims trickled into what looked like snowy earth – silvers, gunmetal greys and blacks so petrol-shiny you’d think of a currawong’s wing… We were comforted, afterwards, that things ended for them together, holding each other under betadine-and-copper-coloured smoke. Under a sky that’d once promised kinder things: maybe Vegemite toast on Sunday morning, maybe a weeknight, after-work kiss. Continue reading
I started writing this post in April. Here’s what I wrote:
Hooray! My first five-star read for 2019.
That’s as far as I got. Darn it’s difficult to review books that I love, love, love. Continue reading
The first I thought would be lightweight (of the chick-lit variety). The second I thought might be like her last (lots of hype, but lacking something). I was wrong about both. Continue reading
The current thinking in social work circles is that there are better long-term outcomes for children left with their family in an unstable home, than those removed and placed in foster care. This was in the back of my mind as I read comedian Corey White’s recently published memoir, The Prettiest Horse in the Glue Factory.
The details White shares of his childhood made me sick with fear from the first page. His father adored him but belted his wife and daughters. His mother, a drug addict, would disappear for days at a time. White was sexually abused by a ‘friend’ of the family, and as a young child he was violent toward his mother and sisters.
I drink in my father’s anger, see how it makes him glow and other people cower, and I repeat it. I punch my mother in the stomach and call her a stupid slut. Continue reading
I’m prefacing this review by saying that I like Toni Jordan’s writing (and in particular, Addition was a terrific book).
The Fragments is a literary mystery (in every sense of the word). The story alternates between 1930s New York and Brisbane in the 1980s. In New York, celebrated author Inga Karlson dies in a fire and her highly anticipated second book is also burnt, leaving just a few scorched fragments of the manuscript. Continue reading
I wasn’t planning on reading What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty – I appreciate that she writes books that smash the ‘beach reads’ category (excellent twists, funny, and light, easy reading) but they’re not really my thing. What Alice Forgot has been sitting on my Kindle for seven years and I was reminded of that when it popped up as an available audiobook in my library’s stupidly meagre audio offerings. Having just finished a dense book about the Holocaust, listening to the wonderful Caroline Lee read Moriarty was ideal. Continue reading