Monthly Archives: November 2015

So Grateful for Vikki Wakefield.

For my last Aussie YA read of the year (though, knowing me, I’ll cram another couple in), I chose Inbetween Days by my favourite contemporary Aussie YA writer, Vikki Wakefield.

Vikki’s previous two books have smashed me to pieces. This one was no different. I’ve only just this morning finished binge-reading it, so I’m too raw and too bruised to put into words all the ways I loved it. But I wanted to write this post now, so there is maximum time for you all to go and buy it.

And read it. Read it, read it, read it. You will be moved and frightened and cheered and broken as I was, but it’s worth it.

Read it. Support this Aussie author because she’s an under-heralded … genius is the wrong word. That implies something clinical. She’s so far away from that. She’s perfect, pure, raw, stripped-back emotion. Her writing is a howl and a snort-laugh and a shudder and a day of unashamed, unstoppable crying.

I am so grateful that there are writers like this. I am so grateful there is writing like this in the world. I love a world where books like this exist.

I love Vikki Wakefield. If I ever met her I might well cry. Or faint. Or both.

I love this book.

Read it.

Read it.

Read it.

Haters Gonna Hate. Cluckers Gonna Cluck.

Yesterday I read a post on the dreaded Facebook from the gorgeous, talented and inspiring author, John Larkin. He revealed that he’d been the victim of some online bullying and, to show the trolls where they could shove it, instead of getting angry or upset, he bought a goat. Not for himself. For a family in need in a developing country.

I’m not as awesome as John. When I went through a similar sticky situation myself, a couple of weeks ago, I did get upset. The whole thing darn near broke me. And I didn’t buy a goat.

But I’m inspired by John. And I can’t afford a goat. But I can afford a chicken. So I’m going to try and forget the haters. And I’m going with the cluckers. I encourage you to do the same.

Shake it off. With help from Oxfam. It really does make a difference.



So. In the manner of Highlander (thanks, Tiger’s Daddy, for introducing me to that monstrosity of a movie), there can be only one.

One more book in my year of reading Aussie YA, that is.

The rest of the year is looking pretty full-on, work-wise, and I really want to get through the new Robert Galbraith (Oh, Cormoran. Swoons), and the new Magda Szubanski autobiography (Oh, Magda. Swoons), plus a couple more on my non-YA TBR shelf, so I’m scheduling in just one more stop and …

I want you to pick it. Please. What is your very, very, very favourite and best of this year’s YA haul?

I need you to tell me! I need to make the last one as wonderful as all the others. Because Aussie YA rocks. And you all rock.

And also, I’m too FRANTIC DOING ALL OF THE THINGS to research.

So please. Halp.