I found Life in a Fishbowl by Len Vlahos (Bloomsbury, 2017) in the YA section of my local bookshop. I’d seen it around Goodreads and liked the vibrant cover and the premise, so I bought it. It took me almost a year to start reading and while laughing uncontrollably, I’m confused by the whole YA thing.
It’s that time again, when I bemoan the inadequacies of the CBCA Book of The Year for Older Readers Shortlist and Notables.
This year’s Shortlist is full of death and grief and general tragedy. I’ve read 5 of 6 titles, including my fav Frankie. If she doesn’t win I might have to find my copy of Macbeth and break a dickhead’s nose with it. (Her words, not mine.)
“The past is with me; the present is here. The future is unmapped and changeable. Ours for the imagining: spreading out before us. Sunlight filled, deep blue, and the darkness.”
Cath Crowley’s Words in Deep Blue is a love letter to books and reading, the counterpoint to Graffiti Moon, a love letter to Art. Who wouldn’t love a story set in a second hand bookstore, starring a library of love letters secreted within the pages of beloved books.
When I was 12 I read The Boy on the Lake by Judith Clarke (UQP, 1989) and fell in love with these horror filled tales of the supernatural.
I’m doing the May #AusYAChallenge on instagram and today the theme is “a book that changed you.” I had no idea what to post. Every book changes me, until I start the next and it happens all over again. My first thought was some of the books I’ve already posted because they are favs.
I like to pick holes in the CBCA Book of The Year for Older Readers. When I worked in libraries, every year I seethed against the judge’s “poor” choices but I’ve slacked off the last couple of years. Now’s the time to get back into my mid year apoplexies.
As an erratic reader who rarely reads all the titles on the Shortlist, let alone the Notables, I have no right to opinionate, but that never stops me.
The moon is slipping away, slice by silver slice. If I could find her pieces as they fell, I would gather them and make her whole again.
My friend Jill Midolo died last Sunday. She was doing better the Friday before and I took this as meaning she would be fine. After three good and happy days she fell asleep between the pages of an enchanted novel. I’ve been reading Kelly Link and those are her words. MJ and I both read fantasy, although I’m not sure if MJ ever read Kelly Link and she doesn’t really write fantasy, she writes weirdness, the best kind of story. A book MJ and I both loved was Liar by Justine Larbalestier. I borrowed MJ’s copy last year and because I got the cover dirty (trashing books being a talent of mine) I bought her another copy. I now own a book with “Jill 2009” written on the inside cover. I will cherish it more than any signed book I ever own.