Jane Harper
Force of Nature
Macmillan Australia
Your book in your own words: Five city women enter the bushland on a corporate teambuilding retreat; several days later, only four come out.
Federal police agent Aaron Falk is particularly keen to uncover the fate of the missing woman, who had helped him in an investigation into the company the women work for. But as he delves into the disappearance, he is forced to unpick conflicting tales of suspicion, violence and fractured loyalties.
Readers who are familiar with my first novel, The Dry, will see some themes and characters explored further, but Force of Nature can easily be read as a standalone novel.
What you were reading when you wrote it: The Good People by Hannah Kent. Kent’s sense of place and deep understanding of her characters is something I try to absorb.
The next Australian book you’ll read: See What I Have Done by Sarah Schmidt. A novel based around the real-life Lizzie Borden’s 1892 axe murders is an interesting hook. I’m keen to see what Schmidt does with the story and the ways she uses the facts to build a fresh narrative.
Peter Greste
The First Casualty
Viking
Your book in your own words: Prison gives you time to think. And the more I thought about what had happened to us – a bunch of journalists convicted of terrorism charges in Egypt – the more I realised that we were sitting at the extreme end of what has been happening around the world since the “war on terror” began in 2001.
In wars of the past, over tangible things like land or ethnicity, journalists have been witnesses rather than participants in the conflict. But in a war over ideas – in this case between western liberalism and militant Islam – the place where those ideas are transmitted becomes a part of the battlefield.
The First Casualty is the story of our struggle for freedom, but also, more broadly, the story of how press freedom itself has been a victim – the first casualty – of the wider struggle.
What you were reading when you wrote it: I was reading Tim Winton’s extraordinary book Breath while I wrote The First Casualty. It was such a powerful evocation of people and place that I felt inspired by it, but also intimidated by Tim’s genius.
The next Australian book you’ll read: It’ll be Peter Carey’s new novel, A Long Way from Home. One of my favourite novels of all time is Bliss and Carey’s writing is always original – something that is far too rare these days.
Cass Moriarty
Parting Words
UQP
Your book in your own words: Parting Words explores the secrets and silences in families. In his will, in one last act of atonement, Daniel Whittaker has left unusual instructions for his three adult children: before his estate can be distributed, they must hand-deliver letters to people from his past. How well do the siblings really know their father? What will they discover from strangers about their own family?
As details of their father’s life are revealed, including the aftermath of war and the terrible psychological effects of guilt, the children piece together a complex portrait of their father and struggle to accept a reinterpretation of the man they thought they knew.
It’s a story of a fractured family, each person coming to terms with their own life choices. Amid regret, hurt and betrayal, how do we seek the hopeful possibilities of forgiveness and redemption?
What you were reading when you wrote it: Marilynne Robinson’s trio of interconnected novels (Gilead, Home and Lila) were inspiring to my idea of family – the fallibility of parents, the vulnerability of children and the notion of innocence – and showed me how the prisms of memory, childhood experience and intergenerational trauma change the way we view the world.
The next Australian book you’ll read: After the magic of The Eye of the Sheep, I’m looking forward to Sofie Laguna’s novel The Choke. She has a unique ability to capture the voice of a child and to develop a character that is complex and insightful while retaining the wonder and naivety of the young.
Judy Nunn
Sanctuary
William Heinemann
Your book in your own words: My novel, Sanctuary, tells of nine refugees, one a small child, who are fleeing from war-torn countries in the Middle East.
These people are of differing nationalities, cultures and religions. Each has their own story and they are strangers to one another when they board a boat in Indonesia. However, when the vessel founders in a storm and they are the only survivors making it ashore to a remote island, they are forced to bond in order to survive. The island is deserted, but there are huts and water tanks, fishing tackle and supplies, even overgrown vegetable patches – everything necessary to sustain life.
Unbeknown to them they’re only 40km from the coast of Australia. No one knows they’re there, but what will happen when they’re discovered?
What you were reading when you wrote it: I don’t read other people’s fiction when I’m writing a novel, but I certainly read books that will further my research. The most affecting one I read during the writing of Sanctuary was The Morning They Came for Us: Dispatches from Syria by Janine de Giovanni.
The next Australian book you’ll read: As soon as I can get a hold of it, as it’s not yet been published: In the Garden of the Fugitives by Ceridwen Dovey. I’m particularly keen to read it simply because I so enjoyed Only the Animals – she has such a lovely style.
Vanessa Berry
Mirror Sydney
Giramondo
Your book in your own words: Mirror Sydney charts an alternative Sydney by paying attention to its details and traces. My background is in writing memoir, but with this book I decided to turn my focus on memory outwards and to give expression to some of the memories of the city itself. I’m drawn to the anachronistic, unusual, little-noticed and hidden parts of the city. Mirror Sydney documents these elements and their connections to stories of past, present and future.
The essays reveal suburban mysteries and unlikely landmarks, places abandoned, stubbornly persisting or hidden in plain sight. My writing often includes visual elements, in this case hand-drawn maps that accompany the essays. Together they form a guide to looking under the surface of the city, and preserve some of the vanishing places and details that are disappearing as Sydney changes and redevelops.
Although it’s a book about Sydney, more generally it is about being attentive to urban environments and the complex networks of stories that exist within them.
What you were reading when you wrote it: Virginia Woolf’s Street Haunting, in her essay collection The Death of the Moth, was a touchstone for me. In it she writes of an evening walk in London and how the details of the present interweave with memory and imagination. Although it describes an experience long past, it has a beautiful immediacy.
The next Australian book you’ll read: Darlinghurst Funeral Rites by Mark Mordue, a collection of autobiographical poems about the post-punk music scene in inner-city Sydney in the 1980s. I’m enthusiastic to read this, as it’s an era I am interested in, and I love stories of subcultures and how they reimagine and reshape urban space.
Sarah Krasnostein
The Trauma Cleaner
Text
Your book in your own words: The Trauma Cleaner is a true story about the life and work of an extraordinary Australian woman named Sandra Pankhurst. Adopted as a baby boy into an abusive family in Melbourne in the 1950s, Sandra has lived many lives: husband and father, drag queen, sex worker, funeral director, trophy wife, business owner and – for the past 20 years – trauma cleaner.
In addition to crime scenes, a trauma cleaner works with the living: people whose insuperable pain or illness has left them living in squalor. I observed Sandra work with these people, applying the lessons she’s learned the hard way about resilience and compassion.
By the time Sandra finally felt sufficiently safe in society to share her story, she could no longer remember significant parts of it. Repeat episodes of trauma had robbed her of memory. But the opposite of trauma is not the absence of trauma; the opposite of trauma is order – everything in its place. So, in researching this book, I had the privilege of doing for Sandra what she does for others; I hope it was a trauma clean for her.
What you were reading when you wrote it: One of the books I returned to in my research was The Scarlet Mile: A Social History of Prostitution in Kalgoorlie, 1894–2004 by Elaine McKewon. Wonderfully written, it contains a trove of rich factual detail that helped me bring to life Sandra’s experience of working in the brothels of Hay Street.
The next Australian book you’ll read: I can’t wait to read See What I Have Done by Sarah Schmidt about the case of Lizzie Borden. History, the questions of causation and consequence inherent in criminal violence, and the strange human energy that lies in “the dark velvet” – how could I not want to read this?
Jimmy Barnes
Working Class Man
Harper Collins
Your book in your own words: Working Class Man is my second memoir and is a continuation of my story from where Working Class Boy left off. The book is really an attempt at explaining the impact of my childhood on myself and the ones I loved as an adult.
In a lot of ways, this book is more what people would have been expecting from me first time round. It talks about the incredible highs – and believe me, I do mean highs – that I have reached in the world of rock’n’roll and the despicable lows that I came crashing down to. In this book I’ve tried not to use my childhood as an excuse for my behaviour but more look at the effects of growing up in poverty with alcoholism, violence and abuse, and how these conditions can affect the choices you make even when everything seems to be going your way.
It is written in three parts. Part one follows my years with one of the best bands I’ve ever played with, Cold Chisel. We grew up together, travelling from one end of Australia to the other and everywhere in between. Along the way, we made some great music. In part two, I write about my struggles leaving that band and trying to build a career and life of my own, all the while running from my past. In the third part I can run no further and turn to face my demons. Ultimately, it’s a story of survival and, more importantly, a story about love.
What you were reading when you wrote it: I was reading history books at the time I started writing this book, so they really didn’t influence what I was writing about except that maybe I was looking back. One of the books I was reading was The Scottish Enlightenment by Arthur Herman.
The next Australian book you’ll read: I have two lined up, both written by friends of mine: Tex by Tex Perkins and Stuart Coupe, and Detours by Tim Rogers.
Benjamin Law and Jenny Phang (his mum)
Law School
The Lifted Brow
Your book in your own words (Benjamin): Six years ago, The Lifted Brow asked whether Mum and I would be keen on co-writing sex and relationships advice columns together – kind of like Dan Savage meets Amy Sedaris’ Sedaratives. We thought it was just a funny lark, but cut to six years later (and a lot of questions about masturbation, yeast infections, polyamory and general sexual batshittery), we’ve got enough for a hardcover book, accompanied with full-colour illustrations.
It’s happily, awkwardly bizarre when I tell people about what we’ve made, but I grew up obsessed with sex (my family even called me Dr Sex growing up) and as a mother of five kids, Mum’s always been really frank about it.
What you were reading when you wrote it: Oh I’ve always loved advice columns by Dan Savage (who makes a guest appearance as a fellow advice-giver in our book) and Cheryl Strayed. But really, this is less inspired by other writers and more inspired by the kinds of conversations my family has always had: urinary tract infections, vaginal discharge and our ongoing fascinating with DICKS (I have three sisters).
The next Australian book you’ll read: Antony Dapiran is a Hong Kong-based Australian journalist who’s written a new Penguin classic on Hong Kong pro-democracy protests, which I’ve just started. As a Hong Kong Chinese-Australian guy myself, I’m feel invested in what’s going on there. Also really pumped for Brodie Lancaster’s memoir and essay collection, No Way, Okay Fine, and Omar Musa’s book of poetry.
Michelle de Kretser
The Life to Come
Allen & Unwin
Your book in your own words: Taking place in Sydney, Sri Lanka and Paris, The Life to Come follows a loosely linked group of characters. It explores our flawed perceptions of other people and the way our understanding of the world shifts over time and according to changes in context.
Like all my books, The Life To Come considers the relationship between individuals and their moments in history. It also examines the stories we tell and don’t tell about ourselves and our societies. It’s a character-driven novel in five separate sections that can be read completely independently of each other but that add up to more than their parts. I think it will make people laugh. I hope it will make them think. And I think it might make them cry.
What you were reading when you wrote it: One of the books I was really impressed by was Another Life by the Soviet writer Yury Trifonov. It’s a wonderful novella set in midcentury Soviet Russia. The characters and their world are brilliantly rendered in the way that Russian novelists seem able to do almost effortlessly. It encouraged me to keep faith with character-based narrative. I took heart from reading it.
The next Australian book you’ll read: I am going to read The Red Pearl, a collection of stories by Beth Yahp, which is her return to fiction after 25 years. I think she is a writer who takes risks formally and she’s interested in the intersection of the self and the political, as I am. Her writing is surprising and profound and I’m looking forward to discovering her all over again with this new book.
