'Wildlife' by Fiona Wood

 Received from the Publisher

From the BLURB:

Life? It's simple: be true to yourself.

The tricky part is finding out exactly who you are...

"In the holidays before the dreaded term at Crowthorne Grammar's outdoor education camp two things out of the ordinary happened.

A picture of me was plastered all over a twenty-metre billboard. 

And I kissed Ben Capaldi."

Boarding for a term in the wilderness, sixteen-year-old Sibylla expects the gruesome outdoor education program – but friendship complications, and love that goes wrong? They're extra-curricula.

Enter Lou from Six Impossible Things – the reluctant new girl for this term in the great outdoors. Fragile behind an implacable mask, she is grieving a death that occurred almost a year ago. Despite herself, Lou becomes intrigued by the unfolding drama between her housemates Sibylla and Holly, and has to decide whether to end her self-imposed detachment and join the fray.

And as Sibylla confronts a tangle of betrayal, she needs to renegotiate everything she thought she knew about surviving in the wild.

A story about first love, friendship and NOT fitting in.

The Crowthorne Grammar outdoor education term is meant to impart life skills and self-reliance. Mobile phones are strictly forbidden (and reception sucks anyway) solo-hikes are a requirement and Milo is rationed – all in an effort to prepare the Year Ten’s for their imminent arrival into adulthood.

But for Lou, adulthood has already come much too soon, after the accidental death of her boyfriend, Fred. Now she’s dealing with the ache of never letting go and the shattered illusion that death is for the old. Her public school friends, Dan and Estelle, are putting their own pieces back together – and venturing on a different type of adventure, in the form of a French exchange program. But Lou, fearful of somehow abandoning Fred, instead chooses to attend her mum’s old private school, Crowthorne Grammar. It’s just a shame that her first term coincides with the dreaded outdoor education camp. Now Lou is packing up her grief into a waterproof backpack, breaking in her boots and carting her bruised heart to the middle of nowhere.

Sibylla is in the middle of a very different life lesson when the outdoor education term rudely interrupts. Despite her feminist mum’s reservations, family friend and advertising producer, Bebe, managed to convince Sibylla (‘Sib’) to be the new face of an international perfume ad campaign. Sib recently had braces off and zits cleared, emerging beautifully butterflied – but her transformation is accelerated ten-fold when a twenty-metre billboard of her appears the day before school camp. Now Sib’s emergence from the cocoon is advertised in an international campaign for all to see, and comment on. Sib’s best friend since primary school is Holly, whose bark is as bad as her bite – she seems to be a walking conundrum, at once jealous of Sib’s unbelievable good fortune, and thrilled that she can cash in on popularity-by-association for her own gains. Less enthused is Sib’s older oldest friend since kindergarten, Michael. Michael is a genius and unimpressed by the social strata at school – he’s focussed (and can sometimes get obsessed) with his piano-playing and running. To him, Sibylla will always be beautiful – billboard or no – and the resulting hubbub around her sudden popularity has him nervous.

What’s really got Michael riled is Ben Capaldi – future class president, straight-A student, ladies-man, guys-guy and all-round Mr. Popular. Normally Sib wouldn’t even be on Ben’s radar . . . but since ‘the billboard’, things have gotten interesting – in the form of an unexpected party kiss. Now Sib is going to spend an entire term in the great outdoors with her crush, trying to figure out if their kiss was a one-off, or if there;s possibility for more.

Along with four other girls, Lou and Sib are bunked together in Bennett House. Sib tries to steer clear of the new loner, and Lou is determined not to care about Crowthorne’s petty popularity stakes . . . but when you’re thrown together in the middle of nowhere, you quickly discover that the art of survival can sometimes mean depending on others, as much as yourself.

‘Wildlife’ is the new young adult novel from Australian author, Fiona Wood.

With some authors, it’s as though they’ve twisted off the top of your head and taken a peek inside, and then acted as brain stenographer to jot down privacies and idiosyncrasies you thought were wholly unique to you. Fiona Wood is such an author, and ‘Six Impossible Things’ was one of those books I read and felt an instant kinship with. So when news of Wood’s follow-up novel came through the YA grapevine, I marked its release date in my calendar and got excited . . . and when details of the blurb emerged, revealing that one alternating protagonist would be Lou (Estelle’s friend from ‘Six Impossible Things’, and insta-crush for Dan’s bestie, Fred) I was doubly-thrilled. There’s nothing quite like reading a book and feeling that a fictional friendship has been established with the characters – the next best thing is knowing that you’ll be able to catch up and touch base with them again (à la ‘Saving Francesca’ and ‘The Piper’s Son’). 

Of course, readers are not catching-up with Lou under the best of circumstances. When the book begins, Fred has been dead for months and Lou is still not coping . . . Dan and Estelle are making attempts to get on with their life by participating in the French exchange program, but Lou feels she should stay grounded in the country where Fred died, as a sort of allegiance to him. Fans of ‘Six Impossible Things’ will no doubt feel the crushing blow of once again meeting these characters they fell in love with, only to discover their world that we left semi-happily ever aftered, is now bleak and fractured. It’s tough, I’ll admit, but for Lou’s story it’s a hell of a place to start from. 

Sib is dealing with very different issues. She’s a forward-thinking young feminist who hates misogynistic rap lyrics and isn’t terribly impressed by the girly cliques at her school. At seeming odds with Sib’s moral fibre is the massive twenty-metre billboard of her face that’s just been erected in the city – part of a perfume ad campaign that her mother’s best friend, Bebe, talked her into doing (with the tempt of money being put towards Sib’s end-of-school travel fund). Now Sib is on everybody’s radar, for various reasons; girls look at her wondering why she’s so special, boys feel the need to comment on her ‘hotness’ and her social standing is fluctuating (from non-existent, to suddenly being kissed by the most popular boy in her year level). 

More barking. But maybe I've got traction with guys like this these strange days, and I decide to use it, instead of pretending to be a good sport and let them say any dumb thing they find amusing while I give what I hope is an ironic or non-committal smile. 

‘Being gross doesn’t make you funny.’ 

‘And being on a billboard doesn’t make you pretty,’ Vincent says. 

I catch the briefest flash of triumphant in Holly’s eye.

At first glance, Lou and Sibylla seem so different, that they’re doomed to fail in the same book. How can Lou’s grieving for her dead boyfriend possibly act as counterpoint to Sibylla’s sudden popularity sky-rocket and lustful developments with Ben Capaldi? It sounds like it shouldn’t work . . .  but this is Fiona Wood, so it does. And the magnet that initially brings these two polar opposites together is Michael – Sib’s oldest friend, and Lou’s new confidante. 

In a book with two stellar protagonists, Michael was actually my favourite character, hands down. He was just brilliant – a boy genius, tender soul and utterly unimpressed by popularity and the personality change that comes with clawing your way to the top of the ‘cool’ ladder. Michael may have Asperger syndrome, or else he simply suffers from always being the smartest person in the room (and it’s probably been that was since kindergarten) – I loved that Wood and Sib don’t hark on Michael’s quirks that mark him as different, they just accept him. And it’s his forthrightness and gentleman charm that has Lou seeking comfort in his friendship, and has him acting as a sort of bridge between her and Sib . . . and as much as Lou is gaining something from her new-found friendships, so too is Sib finding comfort in a new and old friend when romance becomes too much and frenemy, Holly, goes too far.

Sibylla’s story acts to remind Lou (and readers) that there is life beyond grief, and the world keeps turning. Sib and Michael are there to pull Lou into a different orbit; one that’s not defined by what’s missing but rather, what’s ahead. And I think if this had just been a book of Lou’s grief, it would have been very tough to get through. Tasked to jot her feelings down in a journal, Lou writes so eloquently about her hurt, bewilderment and never-ending sadness. It’s a vicious cycle that she communicates so well on the page, but poorly to the rest of the world; 

Grief settles comfortably into any host; it is an ever-mutating, vigorous organism with an ever-renewing customer base. It generates a never-ending hunger, a never-ending ache, an unassuageable pain to new hearts, brains, guts every minute, every day, every year.It is the razor edge of a loose tooth shrieking to be pressed again and again into the soft pink sore gum.  

It’s a one-way tunnel with no proof of another exit.

It’s actually a blessing to have Sibylla’s story alongside Lou’s – with her we get the butterflies-in-stomach, rollercoaster-highs of first crush turning into something more. It’s grief and giddiness, sweet and sour . . . two halves making an incredibly whole and fulfilling book. 

Fiona Wood has done it again – I was happy to get lost in the wilderness of this story, and I’ll be passing it on to friends and family (young and old – because there’s no age-limit on relating to first experiences with love and death). A beautiful book with characters I didn’t want to leave, but I feel lucky to have met (some of them for a second time). 

5/5 

May Blockbusters: Patrick Ness

Last night was Wheeler Centre’s May Blockbuster – a conversation between the supremely talented Patrick Ness and lovely Aussie author, Lili Wilkinson. This much-anticipated event could not be contained to the usual Little Lonsdale Wheeler Centre building, and was instead held at the Athenaeum theatre – the perfect setting for this marvellous event. 

• Lili Wilkinson introduced Patrick Ness as a “darkly complex” author who writes quite hard-hitting, sometimes bleak and ridiculously popular books for teenagers. Ness, jokingly, stipulated that he was the “darkly complex” one, not his novels . . . and then officially kicked things off by reading from his forthcoming young adult book, ‘More Than This’ (which certainly held true to his aforementioned “darkly complex” tag – the opening line was; Here is the boy, drowning. . . ) 

• Asked how he got into writing, Ness (like so many before him) admitted it all started in school. He said his writing then was more mimicry than creative, but that’s okay – it was a beginning. And what he found was that he could write, and get the reaction he wanted from people – and he loved that affirmation. He likened it to what a singer must feel, when they’ve been able to move an audience or elate them with just the power of their voice (Ness admitted to being a terrible singer, so finds this a very enviable ability). Ness also admitted that he always loved to read, but writing was his “private thing” (many chuckles ensued after he admitted this) he then spoke about bringing his “private thing into the light” . . .  (more chuckling) 

• He thanks being made redundant from the universally-despised cable company for helping him to write his first book. While living in America he was corporate writer for a cable company, until he was laid off and suddenly had time to write his first novel. He did the best he could with it – edited and rewrote, until it was the best he had to offer. He sent the manuscript off and found an agent, who then found a publisher – so his first manuscript attempt, ‘The Crash of Hennington’, was his first published novel. Ness stressed that, though his path to publishing sounds remarkable and lucky – this is actually the way it happens for majority authors. They make it the best that they can, and that determination and finessing pays off. 

• In talking about his latest adult novel, ‘The Crane Wife’, Ness lamented that none of his adult novels can be pitched to Hollywood and you can’t tweet them. Basically, they’re not easy. ‘The Crane Wife’ has origins in a Japanese folk tale Ness heard from a Japanese-American teacher when he was very young. It is also the name of an album from The Decemberists, which also took much inspiration from the same Japanese tale. What intrigued Ness about this particular tale (and why it stuck with him for so long) is that most fairytales begin with an act of cruelty (two kids being abandoned in the woods, a man being cursed into the form of a beast, the death of a father etc. . . ) but the crane wife begins with an act of kindness. The book begins with a man called George finding a wounded crane in his garden that he then helps . . .  of course, the act of cruelty comes later in the book, but what first attracted Ness was the human-condition kindness in the beginning.

• In discussing the fairytale origins of ‘The Crane Wife’, Ness stressed that when he starts writing a book, he never has just one idea. He said ideas have to be like forest fires – one is catching, and it needs to spread. You need more than one idea for a (good) book to work. 

• Ness said that he never writes autobiographically (he wants to give his family some privacy) but he made an exception in ‘The Crane Wife’. The book includes an event which really did happen to Ness and a friend of his; when they were eight-years-old, a fluke saved them from being killed when they were hit by a car. The car accident happened across the road from a service station and supermarket; so a lot of people saw what happened. In remembering this incident, Ness got to thinking about how differently those onlookers would tell the story of their near-death experience (Ness himself says a fluke saved him – but those people who were watching a car hit two boys, and were powerless to stop it, would probably have a much more traumatized version of events). He got to thinking about seeing truth from different angles and perspectives (sort of eyewitness memory). Ness said that stories serve a vital function in trying to sort out life – but truth changes everything. 

• Seguing from talk of 'truth' . . .  Lili Wilkinson asked how Ness balances fantastical elements with realism in his novels (‘The Crane Wife’ has a talking volcano, for example). Ness replied that he didn’t think a balance was needed, since a book is a world made of words and he sees no ‘realism’ – it’s all fake. He said the trick is establishing a world in which these things could happen. 

• Now to the part of the discussion I think most people were hanging out for . . .  his ‘Chaos Walking’ trilogy. Ness said that after his adult books were bought “in their dozens by friends and family”; he wanted to write a book in the vernacular. He had one SERIOUS BIG IDEA – which was information overload. He has thought for a long time that people have so much of their lives on the internet now, and today’s teenagers are living in unprecedented times when they have less privacy than any other generation in history. And then he had one STUPID IDEA – which was that he hates books about talking dogs . . . which then led to a very amusing interlude about a possible cat Hell/Purgatory . . . but, seriously, Ness thought that if a dog could talk it would be all about food, shagging, poo and how excited they are to see you all the time. So, after having his SERIOUS BIG IDEA and his STUPID IDEA he merged the two . . . and when Todd’s voice came to him, it all fell into place.

- At this point in proceedings (regrettably, right after he spoke about information overload and people having too much of their lives on the internet). . . I looked up from my live-Tweeting to see Patrick Ness looking right at me, and thanking “the girl in the second row for putting her phone away. You think I can’t see you, but I can see you.” OH. MY. GOD. *dies*. My fault; Wheeler Centre had asked us to turn phones off and I flagrantly flaunted that command. I did apologize to Patrick Ness (via Twitter . . . I do like viral irony) and he did reply. 

Though I think his apology his double-edged; either he thought I was mum to the two little kids sitting in front of me (their small stature probably part of the reason he could see my phone antics so easily – dammit!) or he thought I was mum to the two adults I was sitting between. Either way (and no disrespect to mums) but I hope I don’t look like one just yet. 

• Ness knew from the beginning that the ‘Chaos Walking’ trilogy would be a young adult novel (this is so refreshing from all those YA authors who usually say their publisher/editor told them they had a YA manuscript). Ness was utterly unfazed to be writing a YA novel – he said that it was great, and it’s the same commitment to write a YA novel as it is an adult novel.  

• In talking about writing for teens, Ness then stressed that you have to write the book that you want to read yourself. He has never had success in writing for other people (i.e.: writing to win prizes) he’s always found the right path in writing for himself. He reminded the audience that nobody was actively searching for the first ‘Harry Potter’ or ‘Twilight’ – those were two books that somebody obviously read the joy in the writer and they grew from there. Ness advised against writing for bandwagons – just because Dystopia is big right now, doesn’t mean you should write it. On that note, he said that if he’s not moved by what he writes, it’d be arrogant of him to ask readers to be moved – you have to be passionate and crazy about what you’re writing, basically.

• Lili asked if he found any difference in writing for teens and adults – and he said that there’s no difference in writing for teens (which is probably why he’s found such success in YA – he doesn’t ‘write down’ to them). At this point Ness apologized for using the collective, monolithic “they” in referring to teenagers – they’re not all the same and he hates that lumping together.

• Ness admitted that teens are less snobby in their reading habits. They’re willing to go to different places in plot & they're not liars. If they don't like it, they'll tell you!

• The question was then asked about the evangelical characters in ‘Chaos Walking’ – which Ness pointed out was perhaps one, and more fascist than evangelical. Here he admitted a discomfort in once admitting he’s the gay son of a tea-party voter . . . because he gets along great with his family, and he hates when people see difference as mere difference.

• In discussing the darkness in his novel, it was mentioned that Ness’s books were called out for being too violent in 2008 . . . to which Ness (very amusingly) said he wasn’t attacked by a newspaper, he was attacked by the Daily Mail. He then spoke about how the darkest things he’s ever read have come from the pens of teenagers. He judged a teen short story writing contest and those were some of the most violent, disturbing stories with the highest body count he has ever read. Far darker than his own work. And that darkness should not be dismissed. In all honesty, he tries not to be gratuitous – he always aims for truth. He tries to talk about more than violence and darkness in his books – he also discusses trust, friendship and how mistakes don’t have to define you. Ultimately he’s glad that someone raised the question about his “darkly complex” and violent books, because he has a great rebuttal ready.

• The whole evening was SPOILER FREE after a quick show of hands revealed not everyone had read all the ‘Chaos Walking’ books – so Ness and Lili stepped lightly over some plot points in the final book of the trilogy. In addressing ‘Monsters of Men’ Ness cryptically said “It’s how he would have wanted it.” He said he was upset too, but he’s not sorry – he understands and just hopes we don’t hate him.

• Having mentioned ‘Monsters of Men’, Lili then asked if he prescribed to the popular thought that YA books should end on a sense of hope (to which Ness replied he hates any question that begins with “should. . . ?”). Rather than happy or sad endings, Ness prefers truthful endings – they don’t necessarily have to be happy, and you can’t always prescribe a happy ending to a story . . . it’s complicated, but it has to be truthful above all else (Hallelujah to that!). 

• Lili then asked la question du jour – about the movie adaptation of ‘Chaos Walking’ (much clapping and cheering after she asked this). Ness said the same studio that made ‘The Hunger Games’ has bought the trilogy, and Charlie Kaufman (that epic genius of ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ and ‘Being John Malkovich’) is writing the screenplay . . . the audience really responded to this bit of news; everyone seemed to agree that Ness’s “darkly complex” books would be a perfect fit with the mad-cap quirk of Kaufman. But he couldn’t say much more beyond that.

• Now on to ‘A Monster Calls’ . . . the book that Ness says he inherited from the late, great, Siobhan Dowd (whom he implored us all to read, if we hadn’t already). He admitted that his first response to being offered her novel was an emphatic “No” – because he was afraid it would be more tribute than story. But Dowd’s idea was so good and so potent; the idea clicked for him, and then the writing clicked. Everything seemed to fall into place – especially Jim Kay coming onboard as illustrator. 

• Ness pointed out that a common review of ‘A Monster Calls’ is that “it’s not for kids” (however great it may be). He completely rejects this statement, and says kids are savvier than some give them credit for (YES!). But he felt vindicated when the book won the Red House Children's Book Award - the only UK book award voted for entirely by children (it also made the Australian-equivalent shortlist, the Inkys – so there!)

• Just before question time (when Lili Wilkinson took on the Leslie Knope persona and we all pretended we were at a City Council meeting) Ness mentioned that on Thursday a Doctor Who e-short he wrote will be made available. He has written about the Fifth Doctor (the one, he thinks, who looks most like a novelist).

• The first question was likening Patrick Ness to Joss Whedon – and how they have a similar style (they’re both "nerdy life-ruiners") – and asking if he is a fan of Whedon’s, or influenced by his work at all. Ness replied that he is a fan, and Buffy is genius. He said he loved that Whedon fearlessly mixed so much in his TV show – that even though it was a show about vampires a demons, he wasn’t afraid to make you laugh and feel and get invested in those characters.

• The next question was about reading between the lines – as someone pointed out, Ness’s writing is often quite sparse, and he leaves a lot up to the reader’s own interpretation and imagination. Ness said that was very deliberate on his part – a conscious decision of voice. He wants his books to be inclusive, so if you’re a black person reading it, you could see yourself in the characters and hopefully not just assume that because he’s a white writer, that all his characters are going to look like him too. 

• Someone asked how they were meant to feel about Mayor Prentiss – and if he was based on a real historical/political figure. Ness replied that people should feel about him however they like, that’s for the reader to decide. But he’s not based on any one real person – since you can find him anywhere in history/the world. Ness pointed out that villains don’t think that they’re villains, and redemption is possible.

• Another audience member asked Ness if reading reviews or fan opinions changed/influenced his writing of the trilogy – and he said no. Furthermore, nobody reads his first drafts (he prefers to be unselfconscious – and in most writing you have your best idea 60,000 words into the first draft, which means you then have to go back and start again as though you had that idea all along . . .  all writers do this). So he has nobody to influence/comment on his writing while he’s working on it. He finished by saying this: “Novels are not a crowd-sourced art form” – and a hum of approval went through the crowd.

• Asked if he was afraid of anything, he admitted a repressed childhood Hawaiian memory meant he was terrified of cockroaches. He’s also afraid of swimming in open water (. . . interesting, after the drowning he read of ‘More Than This’. . . ) but otherwise he’s afraid of everything. He’s an anxious person.

• The inevitable question of which one of his novels is his personal favourite; and Ness said authors are like parents when they get asked what their favourite book/child is – you know they have one, but they don’t want to say. He likes his books for different reasons – the energy of ‘Knife’, the ‘Monsters of Men’ ending and the fact that ‘A Monster Calls’ was so different. 

• And someone asked which moment of the ‘Chaos Walking’ trilogy broke his heart. Again, without spoilering anything, he said “the part to which you are implicitly referring” – but he also said Davy (because he was ‘almost there’ and he really understood him). 

• Finally in the wrap-up Lili Wilkinson asked Patrick Ness to explain a quote of his that she found during her internet stalking . . . about authors being singers, not songwriters. Ness is referring to that awful moment when you’re working on a manuscript, and then someone goes and publishes a book that’s exactly like yours. He said that shouldn’t discourage any writer, because he firmly believes that “a book is not a song, it’s a performance of a song.” What’s unique is how you perform it, your interpretation. Furthermore, a book is not just a set of ideas – it’s a delivery of those ideas (he then apologized for likening writers to both delivery-trucks and singers . . .  but we got the idea, and it was beautiful).  

Interview with Amy Tintera, author of 'Reboot'

Q: How were you first published – agent or slush pile? 

Both! I queried agents, so I was in their slush pile. REBOOT was the second novel I queried (the first one was rejected by everyone), and I sent out about 50 queries before I signed with Emmanuelle Morgen at Stonesong. 

Q: Are you a ‘plotter’ or a ‘pantser’ - that is, do you meticulously plot your novel before writing, or do you ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ and let the story evolve naturally?

I’m a combination, actually. I usually have a rough idea of what will happen in the first half of the manuscript. I’m big on knowing the midpoint before I start, so I’m always aiming for that. I like having a really big, exciting midpoint so the middle of the book doesn’t get boring. But the second half is often made up as I go along.

Q: How long did it take you to write ‘Reboot’, from first idea to final manuscript?

I wrote the first draft in about 4 months, then edited it for about 5 months after that. So 9 months from idea to sending it out to agents. Then there were many months of working on it with my agent, and then my editor, before it was ready for publication.

Q: Where do story ideas generally start for you? Do you first think of the character, theme, ending? Or is it just a free-fall?

Character usually comes first for me. With REBOOT, I heard Wren’s voice in my head, telling me she was dead for 178 minutes. I don’t always get such a clear vision of a character right away, but I definitely did with her. I built the plot around this character who was dead and thought she had no emotions left.

Q: So, ‘Reboot’ is a sci-fi novel in which the deadly KDH virus sweeps through the world, and people drop like flies … only they don’t stay dead; people “reboot” – coming back stronger, faster, healthier.  I’ve seen some reviews label ‘Reboot’ as a zombie-esque evolution. Do you agree, or do you think the world of ‘Reboot’ is in a classification all it’s own? 

It’s more of a classification of it’s own, though I don’t mind people comparing them to zombies. But Reboots aren’t mindless rotting corpses eating brains, which is usually what we think of when we think of zombies. They’re cute and strong and they heal quickly. 

 

Q: Were you a fan of sci-fi before you started writing in the genre? Did you go on a pop-culture movie/TV binge-watch when you were forming the idea and starting to write ‘Reboot’?

I was already a big nerd! By the time I started REBOOT, I was already a big fan of Battlestar Galactica and Buffy and Dexter and a bunch of other shows. I’m very influenced by television. I love how TV shows allow for complex character development and long, involved story arcs. 

 

Q: If ‘Reboot’ was to be made into a movie or TV show … who would your dream cast be?

I honestly have no dream cast! REBOOT has been optioned for film by Fox, so I’m always hesitant to name dream actors in case the movie actually ends up happening. I don’t want the actors who get cast to think they weren’t my first choice!

 

Q: Wren Connolly is a pretty kick-ass heroine. She’s the littlest Reboot – but the strongest, fastest and most feared. Why was it so important for you to write this conundrum of a character who’s pretty unlike any other female heroine appearing in YA fiction right now?

I love characters who are unexpected. I’m especially a fan of complex female characters who are so much more than how they look. I wanted Wren to have a sort of unassuming presence naturally, but to be feared by people because of what she’d become.

Q: There are some pretty amazing fight-scenes in ‘Reboot’, and you detail them beautifully. How did you get that rhythm and description down? – did you watch some real fights to get the fictional ones just right?

Thank you! The action scenes were incredibly difficult for me to write, so I’m glad they worked! I spend a long time on every action scene, probably three times longer than any other scenes in the book, trying to make sure things are clear and moving quickly. I love action movies, so I think I may have learned a lot from them without even realizing it. And my editor helped enormously with every fight scene in the book. We really worked on them a lot.

Q: Can you give any hints about the plot of ‘Reboot #2’? And when we can expect the second book to hit shelves?

I don’t have an exact release date yet, but it will probably be around May 2014. I can’t give any plot hints yet, but I will say that there is just as much action and romance in the second book! 

Q: Favourite author(s) of all time?

Tough question! I’m going to go with J.K. Rowling, because I’ve always been in awe of how she created such a fantastic world and characters in Harry Potter. I wish I had the ability to develop secondary characters the way she does!

Q: Favourite book(s)? 

So many! Legend and Prodigy by Marie Lu, If I Stay and Where She Went by Gayle Forman, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series by Ann Brashares, The Chosen by Chaim Potok.

Q: What advice do you have for budding young writers?

Read a lot. Finish! Most of us are published because we finished a story, got rejected, and then started the process over again. 

Reboot is available in Australia from May 22!

'Dead Girl Sing' Darian Richards #2 by Tony Cavanaugh

From the BLURB:

Darian Richards knew he should have let the phone keep ringing. But more than two decades as a cop leaves you with a certain outlook on life. No matter how much he tried to walk away, something, or someone, kept bringing him back to his gun.

One phone call. Two dead girls in a shallow water grave. And a missing cop to deal with.
Something bad is happening on the Gold Coast glitter strip. Amongst the thousands of schoolies and the usual suspects, someone is preying on beautiful young women. No one has noticed. No one knows why.

Darian looked into the eyes of those two dead girls. The last person to do that was their killer. He can t walk away. He will find out why.

Maybe it’s a hero complex. Or that you never really take the uniform off for good. Hell, maybe it’s because Darian’s saved this girl once already, so what’s one more? Either way, the phone rang and Darian answered: ‘Darian, you must come. Only you can help. There are so many bodies– ’

That one phone call from Ida, the girl Darian saved from the Sunshine Coast killer a few months ago, has now dragged him into a new murder investigation . . . it involves a trip to the “hellfire inferno” Gold Coast, during schoolies week. When Darian starts looking for Ida, he finds two dead girls instead, and then a cop goes missing. 

Darian Richards retired from the police force, but when this new case drags him back into the fold he finds more to worry about than just the missing Ida . . . whatever this girl has gotten herself into, it involves disappearing University students, sex slavery and international kidnapping.

With the (reluctant) help of Noosa cop, Maria, computer genius Isosceles and a notorious con called Blonde Richard; Darian is going to get himself mired in yet another grisly case, once again proving that while he may be done with the police force, the force ain’t done with him. 

‘Dead Girl Sing’ is the second book in Australian author, Tony Cavanaugh’s crime-thriller series, ‘Darian Richards.’ 

I loved Cavanaugh’s debut, ‘Promise’, and I’m thrilled that he has bought Darian Richards out for a second dance (with a third definitely on the horizon). I don’t get invested in many crime series; Karin Slaughter being my only other devout read. I tend to lose interest in crime series very quickly (which is why I don’t watch many crime series TV shows either). What I found though, that keeps me coming back, is terribly damaged characters. I don’t know what it is, but if there’s an underdog, grey-scale dubious anti-hero who I constantly flip between loving and loathing; then I’m there. I’m invested. I care. And there’s nobody more grey-scale than Darian Richards – an ex Melbourne detective who was rumoured to have a bad-guy kill-rate, but was also known to put crooked cops in their place (and in the ground). 

This is a guy who admits to never having had a successful relationship; he pays by the hour for his companionship and that’s all he needs. He moved to Noosa to be closer to his one and only ‘friend’, an ex-brothel owner called Casey. And Darian seems to have an unlimited number of favours owed to him by any number of criminals from all over Australia. But, for all his murky ethics and questionable past, Darian is smart. He first put on the uniform at age nineteen, and even in retirement it looks as though his blood will never run anything but blue. This is especially obvious when a single phone-call from a girl he saved in ‘Promise’ has him driving, helter-skelter, down to Brisbane and the Gold Coast . . . where he reluctantly uncovers dead bodies, a missing cop, disappearing co-eds and a sex slavery ring masterminded by one of the most chilling femme fatales I've ever read.

First: the Gold Coast setting is genius. Even more so for being set during the dreaded ‘schoolies’ week: when the recent high school graduates descend on this beachside city (sometimes called ‘Bris-Vegas’, for being Australia’s own big kids playground version of Las Vegas). Schoolies is full of drugs, alcohol, parties and hormonal teenagers doing anything and everything regrettable. Every year, without fail, schoolies week news-coverage involves stories of roofie rapes and teenagers falling to their death from hotel balconies. So this is the town and time of year that Darian is working in to uncover the murder mystery. And he’s trying to work alongside (or at least, not get in the crosshairs) of Q1, the #1 Queensland police station.

Something I love about Cavanaugh’s writing is that he has the intricacies of the Australian police scene well and truly sussed out. He writes about the force/service name change, the old grizzly detectives who’ve been in the game too long and in the case of the Queensland cops; he’s nailed their RayBan-wearing, muscle-bearing, nose-flaring inflated egos; 

I knew they’d be a different breed, different from the boys on the Noosa hill, back up on the Sunshine Coast. Up there it’s Japanese tourists and stoned rich kids. Little guys growing dope and drink-driving. It’s tourism crime. Down here, on the Gold Coast, it’s hardcore. It was sleepy and laid-back in 1954. Now it’s a hellfire inferno. The waves kept crashing against the beach and the corks keep popping; it is a tourist playground, after all, but there’s a rumble-fuck not far below the surface. Step back from the beach and you can feel it, hear it, see it. The cops more than meet the need. They’re known to show off their guns to teenage girls. They don’t mind a bit of jackboot.

Something I said about ‘Promise’ reveals itself in this follow-up, to be Cavanaugh’s particular crime-writing style; gore and violence. Maybe it’s obvious to point out that there’s violence in a crime novel – but having dabbled in a few now, I can safely say that some writers pull back and, compared to Cavanaugh, are downright conservative. But the ‘Darian Richards’ series goes to dark places that are sometimes very uncomfortable. And Cavanaugh only seems to write violence against women – so you can imagine the dark and vicious stories involved. And in ‘Dead Girl Sing’ we’re dealing with sex slavery; so it is harrowing. And as a woman reading this, there are times when I swallowed bile. But what makes ‘Dead Girl Sing’ even more uncomfortable is the fact that the ‘bad guy’ is actually a young woman . . . ‘Starlight’ is the name she gave herself, and she’s disgustingly ruthless. She came from the slums of Rio, slept her way to London and then fought her way to Australia. She’s young and stunning – drop dead gorgeous, in fact – but she’s taken the hard lessons she learned in the slums and has decided to never have to claw her way out of that life again. She intends to stay on top, and anyone she has to dispose and sell to stay there is just collateral damage.

In reading ‘Promise’ I wasn’t sure (but hoped) that it wouldn’t be a one-off book, but part of a series. In ‘Dead Girl Sing’, Cavanaugh leaves no doubt in the readers’ mind that Darian is a hero who could be here to stay for a good long while. We learn tiny morsels of his past, and the secondary characters who intrigued us in ‘Promise’ are back for round-two. Isosceles, the computer genius with a penchant for obscure historical factoids and no social skills, whatsoever, is again helping steer Darian’s investigation. And Maria is also returned; still harbouring resentment and guilt over what happened with the Sunshine Killer. 

Maria is, really, a stand-out for me. Admittedly, her and Darian’s dubious ‘partnership’ is a bit of a cliché; he, the handsome and wiser sceptical old pro; she the model-like rookie who’s eager but green. But she has potential that Cavanaugh constantly hints at. She’s dealing with sexism and the fact that her ideals of the police service are constantly butting heads with the reality. And in ‘Dead Girl Sing’ we actually get into Maria’s head and learn that she’s not as confident as she appears; 

Sometimes her lover, who she adored, spoke in the most obscure ways. This was one of those times. But she got the drift, nonetheless.  

‘You don’t understand,’ she said. 

‘What? Because you’re a cop and the bloke you talked to is also a cop? That clan thing? Yeah, babe, I understand that. You and this Dane Harper dude, all puttin’ on the uniform, all standin’ under the same flag, all workin’ to the same code . . . but you know it and I know it. Darian ain’t a cop, don’t wear no uniform, but baby, he is the man for good. And you know it.’ 

There’s a moment in ‘Dead Girl Sing’, when Darian muses on an old psychological test that the police forced used to insist on as part of application. It was the Milgram experiment – and it was designed to study the willingness of participants to obey an authority figure (even when obeying meant conflicting with their conscience). Darian actually refers to it more as a psychopath test – since the experiment involves inflicting pain on another human being, upon instruction of a ‘teacher.’ Some people find themselves incapable of hurting (and potentially killing) another human being – and would refuse to do the experiment, or at least show extreme remorse when they eventually caved and obeyed. For some, the experiment was simple. I think Cavanaugh has actually written his own version of a ‘psychopath test’ in the ending of ‘Dead Girl Sing’ . . .  for some, the conclusion will be a fitting end; comeuppances served, a form of justice upheld (however twisted). For others (and I’m one of them) the end will be a perversion in itself. I think it will be a test of each reader’s personal moral compass how they react to the ending and Darian’s bitter form of justice. I’ll admit that for some, the ending will skew the rest of the book (and possibly series?) they’ll second-guess if they ever want to read Darian Richards ever again. I think that’s okay – it lends itself to why I’m conflicted in my liking of the character, and enjoyment of the series – that beautiful grey area. 

For what it’s worth; I’m hooked. 

4/5

'Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty' by G. Neri, illustrated by Randy DuBurke

 From the BLURB:

In August of 1994, 11-year-old Robert “Yummy” Sandifer — nicknamed for his love of sweets — fired a gun at a group of rival gangmembers, accidentally killing a neighborhood girl, Shavon Dean. Police searched Chicago’s southside for three days before finding Yummy dead in a railway tunnel, killed by members of the drug gang he’d sought to impress. The story made such an impact that Yummy appeared on the cover of TIME magazine, drawing national attention to the problems of inner city youth in America.

Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty relives the confusion of these traumatic days from the point of view of Roger, a neighborhood boy who struggles to understand the senseless violence swirling through the streets around him. Awakened by the tragedy, Roger seeks out answers to difficult questions — was Yummy a killer or a victim? Was he responsible for his actions or are others to blame?

Before Columbine, Virginia Tech and Sandy Hook, there was Yummy Sandifer. 

When he was just eleven-years-old, Robert ‘Yummy’ Sandifer (so named for his love of junk food) opened fire in a street of his local neighbourhood in Roseland, Chicago. Yummy fired a 9 millimeter semiautomatic pistol, hitting and killing a young girl called Shavon Dean, who was just 14-years-old. Yummy fled the scene, and a manhunt got underway – the senseless murder and 11-year-old killer making national headlines . . . but that was just the beginning of this tragic saga.

Yummy was close to members of the Black Disciples Chicago street gang, and this is presumably how he came to be in possession of the gun. During the manhunt, it was reported that the shooting was even an initiation gone wrong. And it was because of his fledgling ties to the Black Disciples that it was the gang who ended up finding Yummy, and executing him.

Brothers Cragg and Derrick Hardaway, ages 16 and 14, were Black Disciples members who met Yummy on August 31. They promised him a safe place to hide from the police . . . instead he was driven to an empty underpass and told to get on his knees – he was then shot twice in the back of the head. His body was discovered by Chicago police the next day, and brothers Cragg and Derrick Hardaway were convicted of his murder and given long-term prison sentences.

Yummy’s mug-shot was plastered over the cover of TIME Magazine (the same mug-shot his family used for his funeral program). His story sent shockwaves through America as more of his sad background and violent end became known. By three-years of age, Yummy was known to Child Welfare authorities as his mother had a history of misdemeanour arrests and his father was incarcerated. Yummy was beaten on a regular basis, and was found to have cigarette burns on his body as well as more serious bruises consistent with physical beatings. Sandifer was taken to live with his grandmother when he was three, but the house was often overrun with other children (up to 19 at any one time) and by the time Yummy was eight-years-old he’d started stealing cars and breaking into houses.

President at the time, Bill Clinton, spoke about Yummy and the sad circumstances of his life and death in a President’s Radio Address on September 10, 1994. It was during this address that Clinton announced his eminent signing of a proclamation declaring the upcoming week National Gang Violence Prevention Week.

Some sixteen years after the violent life and death of Yummy Sandifer, author G. Neri together with illustrator Randy Duburke, created ‘Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty’ – a middle-grade graphic novel about the child killer who still haunts Chicago and the American conscience. 

Neri’s reimagining of this tragic event is told from the perspective of Roger, a Roseland resident and classmate of Yummy’s. Roger tries to come to terms with the killing of Shavon Dean, the manhunt for Yummy and his eventual murder amidst his own family’s struggles with Roger’s older brother, who has been hanging out with the Black Disciples.

This book is intended for ages 12 and up – though I can imagine a lot of people would take issue with the violent themes being discussed and depicted in a graphic novel for middle-grade readers. But the fact of the matter is; this violence really happened. This is Neri and Duburke recounting and questioning a very real, very violent crime that rocked America and, sadly, involved a young boy who is nearly the same age as the intended readers of this graphic novel. 

In 1994 Neri was a filmmaker teaching workshops to kids in the inner-city schools of Los Angeles, when the Yummy story broke. In interviews he talks about how those kids grasped and processed the breaking news story of Yummy Sandifer – the opposing beliefs that he was a thug who deserved his end, versus those who saw him as a victim. There was also a recurring discussion of gang and gun violence. In reading ‘The Last Days of a Southside Shorty’ I can see how Neri came to tackle Yummy’s story from the similar point of view of a young classmate who is grappling with Yummy’s death, and life. 

Roger’s voice is carrying this story, as we see events unfold through his eyes – he’s weighing the tragedy of Yummy’s life against the recent news of Shavon’s death . . . and eventually, Yummy’s execution. And then there’s Roger’s older brother, Gary, who is himself friends with members of the Black Disciples. 

Neri does very well to process all of this information through Roger, who slowly comes to realise the shades of grey in the tragedy. And it is a slow processing – as bits and pieces of Yummy’s abusive childhood leak into the news-feeds amidst images of the shrine in Shavon’s memory.

Randy Duburke has done an incredible job of illustrating this powerful story – in bold, black and white panels he captures Yummy’s innocence in one drawing, and then hints at his menace in the next. And some panels are lifted right out of the 1994 newsfeeds and TIME magazine photos – like the haunting picture of Yummy in his casket, surrounded by stuffed toys. 

‘Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty’ has won countless awards, among them; the Coretta Scott King Author Honor Award, Kirkus Review Best Books of the Year, and the 2010 Cybil Award - Best YA Graphic Novel . . . to name a very, very few. And this graphic novel deserves all that praise, and more.

Author G. Neri and illustrator Randy Duburke have created a haunting graphic novel exploring one of the darkest moments in America’s long history of gun violence. That they’ve created this novel for young readers is incredibly important and potent. ‘Yummy: the Last Days of a Southside Shorty’ is a beautiful and raw graphic novel that looks unflinchingly and with great care to the story of Robert ‘Yummy’ Sandifer – and while the illustrations may be in stark black and white, Yummy’s story is reflected in complex shades of grey. 

5/5 

'Steal My Sunshine' by Emily Gale

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

During a Melbourne heatwave, Hannah's family life begins to distort beyond her deepest fears. It's going to take more than a cool change to fix it, but how can a girl who lives in the shadows take on the task alone? Feeling powerless and invisible, Hannah seeks refuge in the two anarchists of her life: her wild best friend, Chloe, and her eccentric grandmother, Essie, who look like they know how life really works. But Hannah's loyalty to both is tested, first by her attraction to Chloe's older brother, and then by Essie's devastating secret that sheds new light on how the family has lost its way. Even if Hannah doesn't know what to believe in, she'd better start believing in herself. 

Combined with Hannah's contemporary story, at the heart of Steal My Sunshine is the revelation of a shameful aspect of Australia's history and how it affected thousands of girls and women - the forced adoptions that saw 'wayward girls' and single mothers forced to give up their babies by churches and hospitals. The practice endured for decades, and only now are the numbers and the heart-wrenching stories coming to light.

There are two sides to the Moon family – Hannah and her dad on one side, her mum and brother Sam on the other. It’s been that way for as long as Hannah can remember; her and dad have their Wednesday movie nights, while mum and Sam share private jokes and pet cat, Scribble.

But when her parents’ marriage reaches breaking point, and it’s Hannah’s dad that leaves, she is completely unprepared for the fallout. Mum and Sam huddle together and lean on each other, while Hannah feels isolated and abandoned.

She has her best friend, Chloe, for a shoulder to cry on. But Chloe’s mum abandoned the family when Chloe was six, and she constantly reminds Hannah that things can’t be as bad as all that. Then there’s the fact that Hannah has a painful, obvious crush on Chloe’s older brother, Evan. 

That’s why she needs Essie now, more than ever. Essie is her mum’s mum, Hannah’s beloved grandmother – the only other person in the family who loves and understands her. Maybe it’s because Hannah and Essie have her mother in common – or, rather, neither of them get on with Sara Moon and are constantly in her firing line. She accuses Essie of lying and manipulating, and she thinks Hannah is lazy and ungrateful.

As her home life spins more madly out of control, Hannah starts visiting Essie more and more … particularly once she realizes how bad her grandmother’s health has become. But there’s also the fact that Essie has started telling a story, her story. And it might just explain why she and her daughter never got along, and why Sara seems to love her Sam so much more than her Hannah …

‘Steal My Sunshine’ is the new young adult novel from Emily Gale.

This year, Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard apologized to the generations of women and children who were victims of forced adoption. Gillard apologized on behalf of the Australian Federal Parliament, for the hundreds of forced adoptions that took place in Australia from the late 1950s to the 1970s. These involved babies being taken from their mothers who, for various reasons, were seen as ‘unfit’ – babies were taken without consent, or mothers were compelled to give consent to the Australian State and Territory government agency. It’s impossible to know the exact number, but it’s believed a majority of babies taken were those belonging to single mothers –at a time when it was believed adopting out the babies of unmarried mothers was in the best interests of the child. 

In her March speech, Gillard said; “We deplore the shameful practices that denied you, the mothers, your fundamental rights and responsibilities to love and care for your children.”

And this is the heart of Emily Gale’s powerful novel, ‘Steal My Sunshine’ – about young girl, Hannah, who starts unravelling her grandma Essie’s harrowing story and how it still impacts on her own mother today. 

When the story begins, Hannah and her mother are already in the midst of a tumultuous relationship, which is further fractured when her dad walks out on the family. Sara Moon seems to have unrelenting anger towards her daughter, and nothing but affection for Hannah’s older brother, Sam. 

Maybe you really couldn’t force a family to work. How were you supposed to know when to stop trying? Mum had stopped with me, it felt like. Essie was the only one I had left. She and I were connected. I needed to know everything there was to know about Essie, and hold onto her for as long as I could.

But Sara Moon also despises her own mother – Essie. She constantly warns Hannah and Sam of Essie’s manipulations and lies, and she has in fact stopped visiting her altogether. It’s only Hannah who spends time with Essie now, and in the midst of her crumbling home-life and the discovery of a mysterious letter about someone called ‘James’, Hannah starts prying apart Essie’s lies to get to the heart of their family matters…

What Hannah discovers is Essie’s own part in Australia’s forced adoptions; as a teenage girl sent away from her London home, and forced to repent for her sins; 

Sister pushes the grey dress and blue apron into my arms again, and even while I’m putting them on I’m telling her, ‘You can’t touch me. I’m not from here. You can’t keep me. I’m not a prisoner.’ Not a single muscle in her face moves as I carry on. ‘Someone is coming for me,’ I cry. 

She’s like a statue, staring me down until I feel as powerful as the puddle of clothes at my feet. ‘You’ve fallen,’ she says. ‘And we are the only ones who will pick you up.’ 

She’s right, I’ve fallen into the bottom of the world. ‘Someone has to come for me,’ I whisper.

This book is harrowing and heartbreaking, brave and beautiful in equal measure. Gale picks apart an ugly chapter of Australia’s history with a deft and sympathetic hand, bringing these old wounds into a contemporary story that’s so important for young Australians to read and try to have a fraction of understanding about. 

What really struck me in Gale’s storytelling is that she very much presents this as a women’s tale – and there’s quite a visceral connection in that, a knowing that runs deep. It’s in the fact that while Hannah’s family life crumbles, and Essie’s story is being told, a news story has captured Victoria – a young girl (Hannah’s age) has been reported missing, believed to be abducted. There’s a hubbub made about this at Hannah’s school where one girl, greedy for the spotlight, cashes-in on her acquaintance-by-association to the missing girl, named Sophie.  As Hannah muses on Essie’s life; how she, as a teenage girl in the 1960s, was one day thrown into a Magdalene asylum, never to be heard from again – in the present day another young girl seems to have vanished off the face of the earth, and the worst is presumed. It hits home that this is a story about the abuses and injustices women seem doomed to always face. At one point Hannah muses that Essie’s story doesn’t mean as much to her brother, Sam … and her own father admits to not really understanding how this also affected his wife. I’m glad Gale touched on this, because it is a truth rarely acknowledged but so important in this book that really revolved around Hannah, Sara and Essie.

One small aspect that didn’t quite work for me was Hannah’s crush on her best friend, Chloe’s, older brother. Evan felt like an afterthought, and was a little out-of-step with the book. I actually think more interesting male relationships were presented with Hannah’s father and brother. And I was more curious about another man in her life; young drama teacher, Mr Inglewood. Not in a romantic way (though the other girls at school titter about him) but Mr Inglewood posed an interesting new male dynamic in the novel, and there was a moment when he confronted and pushed Hannah – provoking a most interesting reaction. For me, personally, in a book where the male characters worked more to illustrate what’s missing in the relationships of the females … I would have preferred more of the charismatic Mr Inglewood than the half-hearted Evan.

In ending her ‘sorry’ speech, Prime Minister Julia Gillard acknowledged the pain and suffering of those affected by forced adoption: "The hurt did not simply last for a few days or weeks. This was a wound that would not heal." And, indeed, ‘Steal My Sunshine’ is about what has not healed – wounds that run like fractures through time and family trees, secrets that poison and pain that never goes away. This is a beautiful and tough book, an important book for young Australians to be reading right now. 

4.5/5