Ten Books One Decade

Putting myself out there to share my highlights of a decade of reading #loveozya novels. These were originally posts on my Instagram and Litsy feeds from Dec 28 to Jan 6.

Tenbooksonedecade

2010

I cannot remember 2010. I was working in a secondary boys’ library and had already been there for 4 years. Enough to feel comfortable. I remember @childrensbookdaily had talked me into returning to uni to complete a Masters of Ed. ‘We need to update our degrees’. Sigh. I only got through one semester because I knew taking on the role of Qld Judge for the #cbcaawards would mean I would be reading (and not much else). I read over 400 books that year, and nearly as many the following.

Melina Marchetta’s return to the world of Francesca and her buddies completely bowled me over—emotional nuance, messy family, and the story of Tom. Shockingly real. I could have picked Marchetta for about four of my years, so it’s only right she’s my first pick of the decade.

2011

While The Piper’s Son didn’t win OR category, my pick for 2011 did. It would be remiss of me not to select at least one Scot Gardner book. His writing over the last 15 years reflect much of the change in YA trends. His male protagonists are often lost (literally), certainly flawed, but always deserve the opportunities to put their lives in order. I especially appreciate that romantic love isn’t a major concern and that friendship, identity and family are strong and welcome features of Gardner’s themes.

The Dead I Know features Aaron, a young man looking for a role model, searching for answers, and the simmering thread of violence is always lurking, ready to pull him into a darker world. Luckily his apprenticeship with John gives him the sense of security and stability he needs. Big shout out to Sparrow (2017) and Changing Gear (2018), which both challenge toxic masculinity norms.

2012

My oldest son slacked his way through Year 12, and I spent the year carting him to gymnastic training and events, choral and orchestra rehearsals and performances, and I took a deep breath after judging for two years, stepping down from reading over 80 #loveozya novels to only 29. Jaclyn Moriarty released a fantasy novel that started the quirky, original warm-hearted series, The Colours of Madeleine which I completely embraced.

Her two lovely main characters, Elliot and Madeleine, swapping letters through a tear between their two worlds, show feisty tenacity, kindness and courage. They are clever novels seemingly light and witty, but that are actually and ultimately multi-layered and terrifically insightful. Her work continues to speak to ordinary people with extraordinary imaginations and startling inner lives. I love everything she writes.

2013

Confession Time: I didn’t read The First Third until 2017. After I read The Sidekicks. After I had conversed with Will. After I left my boys’ school library, where I had pitched it and promoted it. All I can say to 2013 me is what the hell? I didn’t miss the hype. I watched it receive both critical and popular acclaim. All my peers lauded it and the kids loved it and when I finally read it, I accepted its greatness. The First Third is a perfect blend of humour and emotion. Will treats his audience with respect, and he does not pander or preach.  Will is a person of many opinions and a marketing acumen I envy. His stories are authentic, his style is his own, and I can’t wait to see what else he has for us.

Special mention to my other favs: Wildlife by Fiona Wood, Life in Outer Space by Melissa Keil and Girl Defective by Simmone Howell.

2014

II went back to study part-time in 2014. My younger son completed Year 12 at the same school as me, both pressures making it a difficult time. Probably the reason why I only read about 24 #loveozya novels. Having said that, I actually predicted 5 of the 6 OR shortlisted books that year (#humblebrag), so there’s that.

The Protected explores grief in exquisite and infinite sharpness. Hannah’s pain is raw and real. Conversing with her dead sister Katie creates unbearable connection. Her parents’ absence is understandable, yet also unforgivable, and it’s astonishing the relief we feel when Hannah starts talking to Anna. Josh’s appearance brings much needed sunshine to what is in essence of story about confronting death and accepting loss. Claire Zorn is an assured, master storyteller. I hope we don’t lose her entirely to the picture book genre.

Other favourites of 2014 include Intruder by Christine Bongers, Are you Seeing Me? by Darren Groth and Tigerfish by David Metzenthen.

2015

This was my most difficult year professionally. I found myself without a job in August, just in time to sort my youngest son into Calvary basic training a week before his 18^th birthday. That and study kept me from despair and trauma. Finding a new job after turning 50 seemed an impossible dream. I only read 18 #loveozya novels, but the highlight was Fiona’s third book in the aptly named Six Impossiverse trilogy, Cloudwish. There was something elusive and mercurial about Van Uoc’s inner voice, such a contrast to her external presentation – wild versus compliant, risky versus accepting, bold versus quiet. She’s a rare find.

Just as important as Fiona’s writing skills, is the fierce support she offers other Australian authors and to the YA community at large through her thoughtful examinations of books and trends. She promotes diversity and inclusivity, and I have gained insights every time I hear her speak.

Other notable mentions of 2015 for me are A Single Stone by Meg McKinlay, The Flywheel by Erin Gough and Lili Wilkinson’s Green Valentine.

2016

I found validation and purpose this year when Pauline from Riverbend Books asked me to read for RSO. I will be ever grateful for her confidence in me. I continue to read for this amazing service – I mean come on; someone asks me to read YA! #luckyandgrateful I also completed my MEd (Knowledge Networks and Digital Innnovations) while I started the process of becoming a supply/relief teacher.

This was a tough year to pick from the 36 novels I read. Three high quality stories, all exploring grief over the unexpected tragic loss of a loved one, could easily have been the one, but two authors have already had other books highlighted (demonstrating their mastery), but on top of that, Cath Crowley’s Words in Deep Blue also focused on books! And bookshops! And the power of words! And included swoony Henry! So, winner. I love this book so much.

The other two excellent #loveozya novels for me in 2016 are One Would think the Deep by Claire Zorn and The Sidekicks by Will Kostakis.

2017

If I thought 2016 was a difficult year to pick a best book, 2017 has been even harder. I read 45 #loveozya books through my ongoing association with RSO and was able to spend significant time looking after other people’s lovely libraries. This made me realise that being able to share my love of teen novels was still something I wanted to do. But I was also asked to speak at several network meetings, PD events, and I started to believe that I would be able to fill my time valuable by helping other library staff. I started applying more seriously for full time work, but also started to formulate a possible plan b. And was less stressed, less anxious.

But back to the wonderful books of 2017. How do I pick between some of the amazing books that were released this year? I could easily select any one of ten books, and if you want to see them all, go here. I made a ridiculous number of lists, two specifically related to Australian YA.

The book I ultimately chose, Because of You by Pip Harry rates highly for a number of reasons. I am going to go back one of many ravs about this book to try to explain… Harry’s inclusive and diverse cast of minor characters carries a subtle message about stereotyping and judging others. The tone is warm and gentle, but the subject matter is harsh and uncomfortable. However, readers aren’t made to feel pity or guilt. Instead they are inspired by the way individuals rise to the challenge to help others… It’s an astonishingly powerful story.

2018

In a year of Lenny (Book of Everything), Merrick (Changing Gear), and Ana and Jono (from Between Us), it is the protagonist of The Learning Curves of Vanessa Partridge who stays with me most of all. I apparently read 49 #loveozya novels this year, helped by me judging the Young Adult category of the Qld Premier’s Literary Awards. Vanessa’s intellectual curiosity about her sexuality and her navigation through unwanted advances was a highlight. The novel also covered environmental issues, parental mental health, and authentic friendships. I loved every complicated, messy thing about it!

This year I returned to a library on a part time basis. It was a perfect re-introduction back to school, and I settled into a rhythm of juggling a number of roles—I haven’t really mentioned my active involvement in CBCA Qld, and this year, I took on President of the Branch, in a year where we hosted the Shortlist and Winner announcement functions. I really fluked it in, because Jenny Stubbs’s team did the work, and I got to be the front line of the credit taking. Seriously, Qld achieves way beyond its means in these spaces. Such a great year!!

2019

This was a tough year – health issues, death of my dad, and returning to work full time meant I was often stressed. However, some new good things happened too – Rhianna Patrick (@ABCRhi) invited me to be a regular on her radio book chat panel and that has been such good fun. Another year as Qld Branch president, a trip to Canberra for the National CBCA conference and judging the Qld Lit Awards kept me involved in kids’ lit while school encouraged me to learn more about coding and programing (eek). There were fewer YA novels released, but more MG, and I have many opinions about that.

This is How We Change the Ending represents Vikki Wakefield’s contribution to YA this decade. Starting with her debut novel. All I Ever Wanted in 2011, all five novels reflect a genuine representation of Australian teens—their desires, their fears, and their triumphs. Her latest sub-verts our expectations and challenges us all to listen to the teens in our lives and support them to find their best selves.

I also completed loved It Sounded Better in My Head by Nina Kenwood.  

So farewell to the short-sighted twenty-teens. May we all save the planet in the twenty-twentys!

Review: Any Way You Slice It by Kristine Carlson Asselin

Any Way You Slice It by Kristine Carlson Asselin

Published: Wicked Whale Publishing
Released: November 15 2017 (first published in 2015)
ISBN: 9780999420508

Read: October 30 2017

This is a re-release of a romantic YA that was first published in 2015. It’s extremely entertaining and full of miscommunication and desperate attempts to keep secrets, but Asselin knows how to balance the drama with realism. Pen never gets too carried away until right at the very end, when her frantic efforts are of course blindsided. She was never going to be able to keep the secret of her playing ice hockey from her parents for much longer, but it was fun to watch her try.

Pen’s troubles are more than just hockey. She actually has no desire to attend culinary school either, and take over the family pizza business. It’s these uncertainties and her belief that her parents have very high expectations of her that keep her from being open with them. When Jake challenges her to take some risks, Pen is forced to think about many aspects of her life, and it’s both positive and authentic.

The sub plot involves Pen’s father trying to get his pizza restaurant onto a reality TV show. He’s so keen to develop his brand, he makes some pretty bad decisions about this, allowing Pen and her grandmother to bond over his prospective embarrassment. The friendship between Lori and Pen is also explored well, and shows the highs and lows of trying to be truthful to yourself as well as to others.

One of the best aspects of this book is that it’s sweet enough to give to a younger teen. There is little swearing, or under age drinking, and the romance is kept to kissing. The story proves that graphic scenes aren’t necessary to create and sustain a good plot. Pen is flawed but her heart is in the right place. Jake has a bad reputation, but we learn that he’s been misjudged. Even the boys who try to stand in Pen’s way aren’t always obstructionist, and ultimately Pen’s dad listens and accepts her point of view.

Copy provided by Netgalley and read with thanks. Recommended to readers who love their stories packed with fun and angst. The romance is sweet, and the family drama is strong. There’s a strong, positive hockey component, and Pen isn’t forced to play on a girl’s team. Released (in the US) on November 15.

Review: Winter & Summer: Short Story companion collections

It’s taken me about a week to work my way through these collections, 12 stories in each. I alternated one from My True Love Gave to Me (hereby referred to as Winter), and one from Summer Days and Summer Nights (shortened to, you guessed it, Summer), although something happened at the end, and I had to read the last two Summer stories consecutively…but that’s neither here nor there. For those of you who do care, here are some simple stats and happy coincidences. (Although I am more than happy to give credit to Stephanie Perkins to her amazingly, psychic powers resulting in me being able to make these patterns).

• Each book has stories by three authors whose work I hadn’t read previously
• Each book had five stories with magical or wondrous elements, and seven that didn’t.
• After I read David Levithan’s snarky and bittersweet boy-loves-boy Winter story, Your Temporary Santa, I found myself reading Tim Ferderle’s snarky and bittersweet boy-not-so-much-loves-boy in the Summer compendium, Souvenirs. Loved them both obviously.

Hmm, thought I had more than that.

Anyhoo… moving right along, these books work in companion because here in Australia we celebrate Christmas in the summer, so I read Winter for the seasonal feels, and I read Summer for, well, clearly the heat, and the beaches, and the swimming, and the sweating, through which I am currently suffering enjoying. Well, the swimming at least.

I can’t talk about all the stories, but I do want to highlight a couple from each book. For example, as soon as I thought to read these, I headed straight to Stephanie Perkins in Winter, and fell in love with the snarky talky-talk between Marigold and North. Their banter is fine.

 

It’s an all-in-one-night story, and ends most satisfactorily. So it was an even better surprise when I immediately opened Summer to Perkins’s story, and found myself once again with Marigold and North. North’s witticisms are even better.

Marigold’s determination to sort through North’s silent treatment is wonderful. Again, it happens all in one day (this time), and concludes happily (thank goodness).

I then went back to the beginning, and read story for story, one from Winter to one from Summer, and it was delicious to open my heart to these new characters, sometimes strange landscapes, and often bittersweet relationships. There are other excellent elements in play: Diverse backgrounds (The Lady and the Fox; Angels in the Snow; It’s a Yuletide Miracle, Charlie Brown!; What the Hell have you done, Sophie Roth?; and Welcome to Christmas, CA from Winter. And In Ninety Minutes, turn North; and Good luck and Farewell in Summer), LGBTQIA characters (Your Temporary Santa in Winter, and The End of Love; Souvenirs; and Love is the Last Resort in Summer), and disabilities represented positively (A Thousand Ways this could all go wrong in Summer). Grief was also prevalent. It seems teenagers suffer death of loved ones in many and varied ways. It’s a strong emotion which many young people experience and ultimately heal (mostly).

The wondrous stories are written by authors who have some of the best YA Fantasy around – Holly Black, Kelly Link, Kiersten White, and Laini Taylor in Winter, and Leigh Bardugo, Libba Bray, Veronica Roth, Cassandra Clare, and Lev Grossman in Summer. These stories sit all along the magical spectrum – some offer only a tiny taste, some interweave quite strong paranormalcy (ha. see what i did there?)  while one author builds an utterly new world (might be part of her new series perhaps?)

I want to highlight more quotes. For their sweetness, for their insight, for their snark.

David Levithan is a master of the perfect memory: (Your Temporary Santa in Winter)

Tim Federle captures that millennial cynicism: (Souvenirs in Summer)

I must ALWAYS add a quote about libraries and/or books: (The Map of Tiny, Perfect Things by Lev Grossman, the last story in Summer)

And two from Laini Taylor because… well, it’s Laini Taylor: (The Girl who Woke the Dreamer, the last story in Winter) (ooh another happy coincidence)

from the girl:

from the dreamer:

Both of these collections are highly recommended. While there may one story in each book that might not end completely happily, the majority leave readers happy, refreshed, and satisfied.

 

 

 

All the love: celebrating LGBTQIA

You probably didn’t notice, but I tried to include an LGBTQIA book in all the blog posts so far. I think two didn’t. I feel very strongly about the need to include all sorts of inclusive texts on shelves in bookshops and libraries. You just don’t know who is perusing those shelves. It’s important that people of all orientations, of all cultures and creeds see themselves in books. It’s a way to affirm your identity, to know you matter, you aren’t alone. It also allows people who don’t identify with a minority group to walk a while in someone else’s shoes, and see life from a different perspective, hopefully making them more empathetic to their situation.

Diversity brings us all together.

Right, I am off my soap box. These three books I talk about here have quietly changed the direction of LGBTQIA fiction. Instead of hiding and denying stories, bullying stories, or someone-has-to-die-to-make-a-point stories, we have stories about teens coming out in supportive circumstances, falling in (& out) of love, figuring out who they are, and dealing with the same things as other teens, but they just happen to be gay (or bi, or you know, whatever).

Simon versus the Homo Sapiens Agenda made a huge impact when it was first published. As a narrator, Simon is authentic and likeable. Even thought he is still figuring things out, he is happy. He thinks about things. When we meet his family, we realise where all his goodness and generosity come from. His tentative emails with another boy called Blue are flirty and hopeful, and we want Simon to find him, and for them to be together. We celebrate their connection. Of course, there’s so much more to the story, and it’s all wonderful, and strong, and full of happy.

The Sidekicks (February 2016) by Will Kostakis is not all happy. But its grief is about the death of a good friend, not Ryan’s closeted life. Isaac’s death changes the momentum of not only Ryan’s life, but also Harley and Miles. One sudden and tragic event can create a whole cascade of new options and destroy  the best-laid plans. The boys’ attempts to navigate these black holes of darkness make for powerful reading. Kostakis imbues his narrative voices with Aussie teen boy humour, lifting them from gloomy to bearable to accepting. As they learn to fill the gaps of Isaac’s space, they show resilience and the ability to adapt. It’s something teenagers need to learn how to do, but it’s all the better when surrounded by adults who support and champion for their  rights. Ryan’s, Isaac’s, and Miles’s mothers, and Harley’s father prove themselves. Time and again.

You Know Me Well (June 2016), a collaboration between David Levithan and Nina LaCour is a party book. The kids represent every shade of rainbow, every gender expression possible, and every orientation. And it’s glorious. While individually, each character may be struggling, together they work through their woes by talking, and dancing, sharing, and recognising their time is now! This is a shout out to living in the present, loving the one you’re with, and of course, being kind and non-judgmental towards all the people who inhabit your spaces. There’s been nothing quite like it. I felt such optimism for queer youth while reading it, and I hope it brings that sort of expression to them too. Man, I just hope they get to read it.

As a librarian, I work to put these books in all kids’ hands, not just the queer ones. As I always tell people who come into my library, #nojudging.

This is the end of my #rainbowblogchallenge posting. It’s been a perfect way to start my blog. Thank you to the hosts, @ellebiblio @thereaderdragon @mylifeinbooks23 @rachael_reads @lebookchronicles @legenbooksdary

 

 

 

Royalty: Favourite royal characters

Yay, it’s the purple day in the #rainblowblogchallenge. My fav colour. And of course, what else to discuss except those of noble and royal birth. Hmm, actually I have struggled to write find appropriate books because I have never read Princess Diaries, nor am I a huge fan of fairy tales (even the re-imagined ones). So, it’s with this warning, I give you three books with royal characters and why I love them.

I read The Darkest Part of the Forest (January 2015) a week after it was released. This is how much I love Holly Black’s book. Okay, so I said I didn’t really read a lot of re-imagined fairy tales, and some people could say this is a version of sleeping beauty. The faery prince tucked away in the glass coffin is certainly a pretty boy. And while he sleeps, Ben and Hazel make up stories about him. They both love him, and are aware that the faeries around their small town tolerate the humans, but in reality can be lethal.

By the time the prince awakes, Black has us spellbound with fascinating characters, and a captivating landscape. Her vision of faeries are dark and sinister, and it takes all the four main characters’ courage to keep the village and its folk safe. Royally creepy.

I read The Winner’s trilogy over a number of years, finally finishing with The Winner’s Kiss this year (March, 2016). While Kestral is only a general’s daughter, and Arin a soldier (spy), they both rise up through the ranks in their respective countries to be people of power. Their romance moves from innocent forbidden, to surviving trauma and separation. Their scheming and politic-ing really binds the world-building and the plotting together. A royally cohesive series.

Finally, most recently, I read the first book in a new series by Amy Tintera called Ruined (May 2016). Em is a princes of a destroyed kingdom. When she pretends to be someone else to marry the son of her despised enemy, readers know the set up with be filled with tension of her discovery. There is considerable bigotry towards those with magic, and the torture scenes are quite graphic. Tintera lets us know that war is hopeless and cruel. The conclusion of the first book sets up an intriguing second book, in which it seems Em will have to choose between her country and her family (also her love). Oh, princesses do not have it easy, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.I am royally keen to read on.

The absolutely best thing about all three books/series is the inclusion of same-sex relationships as normal, healthy and accepted. I would love to see this attitude in more contemporary novels too. Love is love is love. Irrespective of how royal your blood.

Thanks to the hosts of the #rainbowblogchallenge for these terrific prompts.

The Great Outdoors: Favourite settings

While the colour is green to parallel all things outdoorsy, my favourite setting conjures up mostly blue: The cover of the book, The Midnight Dress (February, 2013), the title, and the beach and the running creeks–all intricately woven through the rainforest that serves as the landscape for this elusive mystery.

I immediately thought of this book when I saw the prompt of favourite settings, because it is the closest to capturing the landscapes of my teenage years. We moved to a small sugar community (not even town-sized) in Far North Qld when I turned 14. I lived in a house that butted up against cane fields and mountains covered in impenetrable rainforests, until I was 22. Those slopes looked foreboding from a distance, and it was only when my best friend took me to the foothills of those great diving ranges, and walked me up a tiny track to a private swimming place surrounded by rocks and tree ferns, with the water icy and swift, that I saw them differently.

The Midnight Dress wasn’t marketed as YA, even though Rose and Pearl are 17. As an outsider, Rose is awkward, and ambivalent to the rituals of small town festivals. She meets a dressmaker, Edie who teaches her to sew, and tells stories from the past that will impact on the present. Meanwhile, interspersed chapters make readers aware of a girl gone missing. The two stories weave together, and uses the landscape of the mountains, the rainforests, the cane fields to build a suspenseful tale of mistakes and murder.

My own mountain retreat, probably photographed around 1982.

My response to The Midnight Dress is very personal. But regardless of that, it’s a well written story, full of suspense and memory.

Because I’m happy: Books that make me happy

The colour for today is yellow: sunshiny, glorious, optimistic yellow. It is entirely fitting then to talk first about a book that made me happy, Jandy Nelson’s I’ll give you the sun (September, 2014). It’s not an entirely happy book, but that’s not what makes me happy anyway. A book that makes me happy is one that has me smiling while I read, that fills me with butterflies when I read a clever line, or a cultural reference, or one that has me cheering the characters on their journey. A book that makes me happy is intelligent, witty, and wise.

There’s much cleverness in I’ll give you the sun (some would argue, too much). The structure is non-linear, the characters are desperately unhappy, and the Art references often and abstract. But with a diverse cast and an insight into grieving, Nelson creates a story that is inspiring and hopeful. Its sense of circular completeness is satisfying, and its quality was validated with a number of critical awards and acknowledgements.

A completed series also makes me happy. Most recently it was the final book in Jaclyn Moriarty’s The Colours of Madeleine trilogy, A Tangle of Gold (March 2016) that set my heart pitter-pattering with joy. Here is a book that delights in language, that seduces with word-play, and that teases with wildly original ideas and people. I was constantly smiling while I flicked back and forth between pages, trying to twist together the impossible leaps and bounds of imagination. There was so much satisfaction with the way the series ended. It certainly made me happy.

Thanks to Brittany from Nice Girls Read Books for letting me use this awesome image.

A completed series I can re-read also makes me happy. This is true of The Lumatere Chronicles by Melina Marchetta. I have read each at least 3 times, and is a story I return to for comfort and hope. Reading about the way the women in the books fight for, and fall in love with their men is inspiring. All the characters’ strength and courage instills me with the belief that I too can be brave and true. The way community is depicted, and the way war is averted also lets me look around and see the good in the world. Gah! It’s astonishingly real and delightful.

Finnikin of the Rock (2008), Froi of the Exiles (2011), and Quintana of Charyn (2012)

I love all these books so much, and have much respect and appreciation for their authors, who offer dark and troubled times for their characters, but who then create beautiful, serendipitous and hard-fought pathways to triumph.

Third post in the @rainbowblogchallenge. Thanks to all the hosts for the prompt.

Time is Precious: Slow vs Fast paced books

Lots of elements can influence the speed of a book. The amount of action. The amount of time passing. The narrative voice. The use of language. The inclusion of dialogue. Any number of other things. Which is better? You’ll probably find most young people want speed, action, and a clear forward movement. But there’s something to be said for a book that isn’t about pace, or direction, or purpose. A book more concerned with character, with thought, with mood has just as much intent, interest, and insight. A book like that forces you to slow down, and appreciate words, sub-text, and nuance. It can be illuminating.

Two books that are measured and considerate are The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily Danforth (February, 2012), and It Looks Like This by Rafe Mittlefehldt (December 2016). They both explore gay conversion therapy, an effective way to handle such delicate a subject matter. Terrible, horrible acts like this need to be explored in an empathetic and open context. Giving readers plenty of time to be acquainted with the protagonists is a positive way to develop that context.

Danforth spares no detail, no dialogue, no description to show us the extent of Cameron’s situation. The novel starts with her as a 12 yr old, losing her parents tragically, and it’s another 4 years before her Aunt Ruth sends her to Promise. On the first page, there is a depiction of the summer heat that immediately has readers slowing down to capture the mood. Cameron shows her mixed feelings about her homosexuality, and through the myriad expressions of her acceptance, readers are given many opportunities to slow down and think about what and how she ultimately arrives at that place of self-worth.

Mittlefehldt uses other devices. Or doesn’t use them. He leaves out any quotation marks around dialogue, jolting the reader out of any sense of comfort or familiarity. The author is not taking us on a merry ride, reinforced by the subdued tones. We are given Mike’s point of view, and yet he reveals nothing to himself (and consequently to us) about his same-sex attraction for almost half the book. Mike finally admits to being gay, but the price of acceptance might be considered too high by some. But thankfully, Mittlefehdlt doesn’t give us a quick resolution. He treats Mike with dignity, and we leave him in a better place.

The conversion plot plays a different role in each book. For Cameron it’s a way to find some like-minded souls, who give her the freedom and support. For Mike, it’s a way to confront his fears. Unfortunately, the trope that someone needs to die in order for others to realise the error of their ways plays out too often in LGBTQIA lit, but it’s difficult to complain when it’s this type of message that hits home more powerfully.

Slow-paced books aren’t for everyone, nor can we read them all the time. But to pick up a book that provides space for contemplation, and to appreciate sublime language use is something we should all try at some point.

Thanks to the hosts of the #rainbowblogchallenge for the prompt.