Lili Wilkinson

Graffiti Moon, Cath Crowley
I think this is my favourite Australian book to come out last year. It’s a word-perfect one-night-in-Melbourne romance with art, grafitti, mistaken identity and just the right balance of comedy to pathos. Beautiful.

The Sky is Everywhere, Jandy Nelson
I didn’t read The Sky Is Everywhere for ages, because I was a bit put off by the blue-ink-diary-meets-funky-Bible production of it. But then I inhaled it on a plane and cried on Michael’s shoulder and clutched him tight. Summery, flowery, musical romance. Gorgeous.

Teenage, Jon Savage
This is the only non-fiction book, and also the only non-YA. It’s a prehistory of teenagers, from the late 19th century to the 1950s. Utterly fascinating and will be of great use for my research this year.

Six Impossible Things, Fiona Wood
Another one I didn’t get around to reading for ages, and then devoured and loved. I think my favourite part is the bitter newly-single mum who starts a wedding-cake business, but turns all her potential clients off marriage. Genius.

Guardian of the Dead, Karen Healey
My favourite kind of fantasy is when magic permeates the real world in subtle and interesting (and sometimes violent) ways. Guardian does just that, weaving Maori mythology (and other kinds) into contemporary New Zealand life, where it mingles with teen drama, humour and romance.

This is Shyness, Leanne Hall
How could I not love a book about a secret suburb somewhere near Collingwood and Fitzroy, where the sun never comes up, and sugar-addicted kids and creepy monkeys roam around abandoned housing commission flats?

White Cat, Holly Black
Curse-working was banned along with alcohol during the Prohibition years in the US. And it’s still banned. People wear gloves to protect their hands from curses. Throw in some good old fashioned cons, some confusing dreams and a memory that doesn’t seem quite right, and you have one Lili eagerly awaiting Book Two.

When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead
One of those books that is made so mind-blowingly profound by its conclusion, that you have to immediately turn back to page one and read the whole thing again. New York, secret messages, a beautiful homage to Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time, and some of the most thought-provoking, deceptively simple, philosophical writing I’ve ever come across.

Three Loves of Persimmon, Cassandra Golds
Cassandra Golds is yet to write a book that I didn’t adore. This one is no exception. She returns to the vibrant and delicate world of mice in this novel – mice, heartbreak, cabbage-roses, trains, theatre and love.

Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares, Rachel Cohn & David Levithan
In the vein of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, this back-and-forth novel has all my favourite things: New York, second-hand bookstores, romance, humour and Christmas. An absolute delight.

In 2010 I also reread nearly everything ever written by LM Montgomery, because I went on a bender and couldn’t stop. I met Emily of New Moon for the first time and possibly love her more than Anne Shirley. And then I couldn’t stop, and had to read everything. I adored every single word, with the possible exception of Kilmeny of the Orchard which I found a bit creepy.

(Also, for the record, my top films of the year were Toy Story 3, Easy A, Scott Pilgrim and The Social Network. In that order.)

What were your favourite reads of 2010?

Meg Rosoff has shared some of her thoughts on the Queen of Teen book award.

Bags or shoes?? Why, people, WHY? Why is so much marketing to girls swaddled in sparkly pink and demeaning language?

I think there’s a few steps in between talking about shoes and becoming entirely imprisoned by the male gaze. I like shoes. I like to look pretty. I’m not ashamed of that. I don’t let it dictate how I live my life, or how much I eat, or inform any of my life decisions.

Here are some thoughts by other people.

So, how demeaning is that Bags or Shoes question? In a culture which makes a fuss over the Prime Minister’s answer to the searching question ‘What is your favourite biscuit?’ I can’t get too worked up about it.
-When I Was Joe

It is all [Jane Austen's] fault: just substitute snogging for marriage, and you have Louise Rennison. OK, also take away the subtle and complex language, the wit, the brilliant structure, etc etc, but thematically, it’s all there. Sorta. I think it’s interesting that popular fiction for boys – from Muchamore to Horowitz is more feminist, albeit in the slightly crap way that the female characters tend to be just as skilled at kung fu etc as the boys.
-Anthony McGowan

(I’ve already made my views on the anti-pink and uninformed McGowan clear here and here.)

Boys are perfectly capable of reading books with pink covers (just as girls are capable of reading books with blue covers). The issue is that they won’t because society has convinced boys/men that anything targeted towards girls/women isn’t worthy of their time. That’s not the fault of book covers, is it?
-Keris Stainton

AGREED.

The point is, by covering books in pink and sparkles (and websites), we’re making them what David Fickling calls Readermakers. A teenage girl who isn’t a very confident reader might pick one up, because it doesn’t look intense or threatening. But once she opens the covers, she will almost certainly find characters who are flawed, human, thoughtful, funny, who make mistakes and learn from them, who are curious about the world. And if a pink sparkly cover (or website) with shoes and bags gets them to open that book, then bring on the glitter. It’s what’s inside that counts.

And frankly I’m far more concerned about books that are black or red on the outside. I’d much rather read books about girls who are flawed, honest, occasionally ditzy, and are interested in shoes (as well as other stuff), than books about girls who are only interested in being messed around by passive-aggressive, distant, abusive vampire boyfriends.

Remember how I wrote a book called Angel Fish? Well you can now buy it in the UK, except it’s called Company of Angels. It looks like this:

I love those marching kids in silhouette!

Among the awesome loot I got for my birthday, there was this book:

I am curled up on the couch with endless cups of tea today, learning how to guddle (or tickle) trout, skin a rabbit, make cider, sweep a chimney, lay out a hedge maze, make a weathercock, right a wheel, craft a Welsh love spoon and paint a canal boat.

Is it wrong that now I’m actually kind of looking forward to the apocalypse? So I can wow everyone with my ability to work scrimshaw and make my own besom broom?

1. Angel Fish is a CBCA Notable book for 2010! I’m so very happy about this. Pink and Angel Fish came out at the same time and everyone was very excited about Pink, and Angel Fish was like the quiet child who people often don’t notice. So it’s nice to be noticed. I’m also just really pleased with the Older Readers shortlist this year (despite not being on it) – it’s a great mix of books, with some fresh new faces as well as some old favourites. And LOTS OF GIRL PROTAGONISTS!

2. There’s a new SHORT anthology out! I didn’t edit this one, but I DO have a story in it. The anthology is Short and Scary, and my story is called The Moth-er.

3. Angel Fish is going to be published soon in the UK, except it’s going to be called Company of Angels. The UK cover is awesome, and I hope to be able to share it (and the US cover for PINK which I’ve just seen) very soon.

Adele from Persnickety Snark is compiling a list of the Top 100 YA Novels of All Time. I’ve just agonised over my own personal Top 10 to add to the list. It was HARD, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten some. But here they are:

1. Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones
2. Obernewtyn by Isobelle Carmody
3. Ready or Not by Meg Cabot
4. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon
5. Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan
6. Mandragora by David McRobbie
7. Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce
8. Skellig by David Almond
9. Northern Lights by Philip Pullman
10. Abyssinia by Ursula Dubosarsky

I actually started with a list of 20, and getting it down to 10 felt a bit like murder. So here’re the runners-up, all of which I also adore:

Del Del by Victor Kelleher
So Yesterday by Scott Westerfeld
Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan
Looking for Alaska by John Green
Forever by Judy Blume
The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander
Space Demons by Gillian Rubenstein
Doing It by Melvin Burgess
48 Shades of Brown by Nick Earls
Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve

What are yours?

This tickled me:

I think Anne Fine is wrong to suggest that it is hard to get back to an optimistic view without wandering into Ginger Beer land – I think that’s a view she holds because she is principally a pessimist about the world. I think there’s a great deal of hope in the world. You only have to look at the current crop of teenagers, and how they cope with all the nonsense we dump on them, to see that.

From Melvin Burgess’ blog.

I did a great session last night at Loreto Mandeville Hall, talking to year 5, 6 and 7 girls and their mothers. It was heaps of fun, and I think everyone enjoyed themselves (I particularly enjoyed the home-made pink cupcakes and pink champagne).

A couple of the parents were asking me whether I thought their daughters were old enough to read my books, which is a question I get asked quite a bit. Here’s my answer:

My mum never controlled what I read. There was nothing I wasn’t allowed to read. In Grade 4, I read Lord of the Rings (I skipped a lot of the boring bits). In Grade 6 I read the Clan of the Cave Bear and its assorted sequels – complete with explicit sex scenes and ‘throbbing members’. I don’t think reading stuff I wasn’t developmentally ready for damaged me in any way.

Reading is active. You have to physically engage your eyes and your brain in order to read. It’s not like TV where it comes to you. Time and time again, studies have shown that if a child is uncomfortable with something they’re reading – they’ll put it down.

I’m not a parent, so I can only give my perspective as an ex-child, and as someone who knows a bit about reading and literature. I think if a young person wants to read a book – let them. If you are worried about some of the content in the book then make sure you read it as well, then talk to your kids about it. Parents should always talk to their kids about what they’re reading. Talking about books is one of the great pleasures of being a reader.

RECOMMENDATION 1
The Government should repeal Australia’s Parallel Import Restrictions (PIRs)
for books. The repeal should take effect three years after the date that it is
announced.

RECOMMENDATION 2
The Government should, as soon as possible, review the current subsidies aimed
at encouraging Australian writing and publishing, with a view to better targeting
of cultural externalities. Any revised arrangements should be put in place before
the repeal of the PIRs takes effect.

What’s a cultural externality, I hear you ask? Well. Let’s see.

The consumption of culturally valuable books, and the ideas they contain, can help diffuse social norms. Where more people come to understand the unwritten rules of a society, their actions become more predictable or ‘trustable’ to others, facilitating social and economic exchanges… More generally, the reading of books of cultural value may help individuals to feel more connected to, and to be more productive within, particular social groups or the wider society, to the benefit of all.

…the ideas embodied in some books have had far reaching impacts. Most obviously, the core ideas that were embodied in books such as The New Testament, The Wealth of Nations, Mein Kampf and The Female Eunuch have had major impacts on how societies operate.

…another way that Australian books could generate external benefits is if they make Australia a more ‘marketable’ identity to the eyes of foreigners.

So basically, the only books that should be supported in Australia are a) “culturally valuable” books that make us better people (in a creepy Orwellian-sounding way) and b) books that Americans will want to read.

Here’s a couple of other choice excerpts:

It should be noted that while books are an important source of such educational benefits, they can also arise, for example, from (educational) television programming and, increasingly, from the internet.

and

In the Commission’s view, linking the amount of support to sales will generally be desirable.

To summarise: FAIL.

(you can read the full report here)

I have two books coming out this year – Pink in August, and Angel Fish in September.

I’ve been working on Angel Fish for a couple of years now. It’s about the Children’s Crusade, which happened (maybe) in 1212, where a shepherd boy called Stephen decided that the only thing that would liberate Jerusalem from the Infidel was the purity and innocence of Children. He raised an army of 10 000 children, marched over the Swiss Alps (where a bunch of them died, due to a lack of important cold-weather gear like, um, shoes), and got to Genoa, where he said the ocean would part before him and they would walk across the ocean floor to the Holy Land.

This was problematic for two reasons: a) Greece was in the way; and b) it didn’t work.

But two nice men called William the Iron and Hugh the Pig turned up and said that they were rich merchants who TOTALLY believed in the children’s cause, and that would charter a bunch of ships to take the kids to the Holy Land. And Stephen said “well, of course that’s exactly what I meant when I said the ocean would part.” And off they went.

Except William and Hugh weren’t merchants at all. They were PIRATES, and sold all the kids into slavery.

It’s a feel-good kind of novel. I’ll be posting the cover and an excerpt in weeks to come.

For those of you who didn’t see last night’s Lateline debate between Garth Nix and Dymocks CEO Don Grover on the proposed lifting of Australian territorial copyright, here are the salient points.

Firstly – what’s territorial copyright? What are parallel import restrictions and why do we have them?

Basically, there’s a law in Australia where, if a book is published in Australia within 30 days of it being published overseas, an Australian bookseller cannot import and sell the international edition. Now there’s a proposal to remove that restriction. The people in favour of getting rid of it say that it will make books cheaper – we all know that books are cheaper in America, we can see so on Amazon.

But why are books cheaper over there? Two main reasons. The first is that the US is a much bigger pond than Australia. There’s more people to buy books, therefore publishers can print more, at a lower cost. The second is that, because of the big pond, most books in the US come out first in hardcover (which is expensive), and then later in a very cheap mass-market edition, printed on very low-quality paper with inferior binding.

In Australia, we generally don’t print in hardcover, because there aren’t enough people to buy the books to make it financially viable. But that means our first edition paperbacks are pretty high-quality – usually a B or C format, and on good quality paper and embellished covers.

So why not remove this territorial copyright? What purpose does it serve? A few, actually. Firstly, both the US and the UK have full territorial copyright – they don’t even have the 30-day rule. They fully protect their publishing industry and authors against imports from other countries. The only country, in fact, to remove its territorial copyright is New Zealand, a country with almost no local publishing to start with. And there is no evidence that it has resulted in cheaper books.

But here’s the main reason. If it is cheaper to buy an overseas edition of an Australian book, chances are the consumer will do it. Which means that the Australian publisher doesn’t get the money, and the author gets a much lower royalty. With less money flowing through Australian publishers, they become unable to support the smaller books, the niche books. The books that might not sell a squillion copies but are still worthy of publication. Australian authors will turn to the US and UK markets for publication, instead of publishing locally first. In order to appeal to overseas markets, the Australian-ness of their stories will be stripped away.

Dymocks CEO Don Grover has this to say: “I don’t think the Australian consumer cares (about buying Australian products), they care about price”. He obviously has a lot of respect for his customers.

And let’s talk about booksellers for a moment. Customers are already shopping in an international market – you can order any book you like from the US or the UK as an individual, online or through your local bookshop. Australian booksellers are already having to compete with Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk – so why shouldn’t they be allowed to import cheaper books?

Because if we did lift the restrictions, how long do you think it would be before an Amazon.com.au sprang up? With a US-owned Amazon warehouse in Australia, how many Australian booksellers would be able to compete with the scale of Amazon, without the overseas shipping costs? Not Dymocks, that’s for sure.

Ex-Premier Bob Carr is a member of the Coalition for Cheaper Books (along with such august establishments as Coles, KMart, Big W and Dymocks). He says that our current comparatively high book prices are resulting in kids who don’t read*. He says that the average book price is $35, which is driving consumers away from buying books for their children. This is a very irritating non-sequitur. Because sure, if you average out all the books in the bookshop, including coffee-table books and cookbooks, the average price is $35. But go into the children’s and young adult section of a bookshop, and you will be unlikely to find many books that cost over $20.

My next book Pink, is set in Melbourne. It mentions Flinders Street and trams and the GPO shopping centre and many other places. When it gets published in the US, it won’t be set in Melbourne anymore. The footpaths will be sidewalks. The Mums will be Moms. Maths class will be math class, and Ava’s high school will no longer be named The Billy Hughes School for Academic Excellence, after an ex-Prime Minister. And that’s fine, for my US readers. I understand why those changes need to be made. But for Australians to have to read the de-Australianed version because it’s cheaper? It’s just wrong.

(this post is a modified version of my submission to the ACCC)

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*Will somebody think of the children! Let them have cheap books! Mandatory internet filters will make them big and strong and put a rose in every cheek… Or is that Vegemite?

Last week the Children’s Book Council Book of the Year Shortlist was announced. There were sixteen books on the Older Readers Notable list, with six books on the actual Shortlist. Of the sixteen Notables, four books have female protagonists. On the Shortlist, there’s just one.

Firstly, congratulations to all the authors on the lists. Please don’t think for a moment that what follows is a criticism of your work. You’re all awesome and totally deserve to be there.

But where are all the girls? Where is Simmone Howell’s Everything Beautiful? Or Joanne Horniman’s My Candlelight Novel? Or Michelle Cooper’s A Brief History of Montmaray? Or Julia Lawrinson’s The Push?

If you take a look back over the years at the books that have won and been shortlisted in the past, you’ll notice that there aren’t many girls at all (Melina Marchetta’s Looking for Alibrandi and Saving Francesca are among the handful of girl-protagonist books awarded the gong in over 60 years).

And it’s happening everywhere! Today the Miles Franklin shortlist was announced. How many women writers on the shortlist? NONE. Ironic, huh? For a literary award that was named in honour of a woman who had to pretend to be a man in order to get published. A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

What’s going on? Why, as a society, do we privilege stories about boys and men? Why are their stories more Literary? Is it because people figure that girls will read books about boys, but boys won’t read books about girls? Is it because girl-stories are often focussed on an emotion-based arc, rather than an action-based one?

I’m currently in the very early stages of thinking about The Next Book. And I wanted to try writing a book for girls, but with a male protagonist. But now I’m not so sure. More girl books, I say! More spunky girls being awesome! Awards be damned!

(for more on this, check out Kirsty and Adele and Judith)

Is it not EPIC WIN!??

On Sunday, 50 young people, six authors and other assorted interested/ing individuals gathered at the State Library, to hear two additional authors talk about stuff, and eat cake.

The authors on stage were Simmone Howell and Justine Larbalestier. They were awesome. It was all awesome. The cake was awesome.

And it made me really happy, because it kind of felt like coming home. I’ve been working at the Centre for Youth Literature for nearly six years now*, but I’ve been involved for a lot longer.

The first CYL event I went to, a Bookgig at St Martin’s Youth Arts Theatre. It was 1993. I was 12. The author was Isobelle Carmody, the book was The Gathering. I went to a whole lot of Bookgigs as a kid, and loved them all. Talking about books with other young people and Real Live Authors seemed to be pretty much the best way to spend a Sunday afternoon, and I’m pleased to say that it still is.

Here’s a photo of that first Bookgig. See if you can find Tiny Lili**.

*ZOMG.

**Clue: Jeans too short. White socks. Otherwise, I haven’t really changed.

Scatterheart is in German!

It’s my first overseas edition, my first translation AND my first hardcover. AND my first book with SPARKLES. It is as SPARKLY as the SPARKLIEST of vampires.

The best thing about being in another language, is running the blurb through Google Translator. Thus:

Als Hannah Cheshire den Heiratsantrag ihres Hauslehrers Thomas Behr ablehnt, ahnt sie nicht, dass sie damit ihr Schicksal fur immer beseiglt. Von einem Moment auf den anderen verwandelt sich ihr wohlbehutetes Leben in einen Albtraum. Und ihr wird klar, dass ihre Vergangenheit auf einer einzigen groben Luge beruhte…

…becomes:

As Hannah Cheshire the marriage of their teacher’s house rejects Thomas Behr, an idea they did not put them so that their fate for ever beseiglt. From one moment to the other wohlbehutetes transforms her life into a nightmare. And it is clear that their past on a single broad based Luge …

Which pretty much sums up the book.

Scatterheart is published in Germany by Coppenrath.

This Is Where We Live from 4th Estate on Vimeo.

Reading one of Margo Lanagan‘s short stories is like running across sizzling tarmac and then plunging into a deep pool of clear, cold water. It’s an enormous shock to the system, but it’s wonderful. Except by the time you’ve acclimatised to the cold, you have to haul yourself out of the pool and sprint across the tarmac again before you can jump in the next pool and start all over again. It’s an amazing experience, reading a book like Black Juice or Red Spikes. But it takes work.

So I admit I was a little nervous about Tender Morsels. I thought it would be hard work. I knew it would be beautiful – it’s Margo, after all, and she is one of the greatest writers in Australia. But I thought it would be one of those books you had to push yourself through.

I was wrong.

Tender Morsels sucked me in from the opening sentence*, and kept me held tight until it rather cruelly spat me out at the end. It is gripping and sad and beautiful. The language is breathtakingly stunning. The characters are real and wonderful. It takes old and tired elements of fantasy – magic, medieval villages, wolves, bears** - and reinvents them, new, glittering, fascinating.

I cannot recommend it highly enough, even if (especially if) you are one of those frankly unenlightened people who thinks they don’t like fantasy.

It’s published here as an adult novel, in the US and UK as YA. I think it’s both. It’s crossover. There are… controversial bits.

Read more in this interview with Margo, which includes a lolsome fictional grilling from Jon Stewart/Stephen Colbert. Here’s a sample:

Well, after Jon/Stephen had mentioned all Tender Morsels‘ sexual content and general weirdness and darkness, and waved the book around and asked “What is in the WATER down there in Australia, that your young people read this sort of story?,” I would say:

“This book sits right on the upper edge of the YA category, and in fact in Australia it’s fallen right off the fence and is published as an adult book. But, categories-schmategories, Jon/Stephen – this is just a story. I’m going for a sense of story that may be hardwired into us, or at least is laid down when we’re very young, and never goes away. If you’ve ever enjoyed being creeped out by a campfire story, or enchanted by a fairy tale – or in fact if you’ve ever had an imaginary refuge that you go to in your head, a mountain cave or a sunlit forest glade – you’ll like Tender Morsels. This story is the kind that pushes everyday life out of your head completely.”

JON/STEPHEN: And replaces it with fornicating bears?

MARGO: Well, bears have gotta do what they gotta do, no? And I have it on good authority, from one grown-up female reader, that some of these bears are dead sexy. There’s a lot of bad sex in this story, but the bears get some of the good stuff.

She’s right. The bears are totally hot.

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*For those of you who have read the book: yeah, that pun was intentional.

**The BEARS. Oh, Margo! The BEARS. I loved them so very much.

1. Oddly enough, I don’t really talk much about books on this here blog. Mostly because I didn’t want it to be a book reviews blog. But I think I’m going to start talking about books a bit more. Not every book I read, but the ones I have something to say about. Stay tuned.

2. I’m going to be a Cybils judge this year! The Cybils are the premier web awards for Children’s literature, and I’m a judge for the YA section, along with some hugely awesome people. And there’s still time to submit your nomination!

3. And finally, here is a beautiful animation of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: 

It has been brought to my attention that I haven’t been posting much about my actual writing of books. So I present an interview with Lili Wilkinson, Author. By me. About what I’m writing.

Self: So. Lili. How’s the writing going?

Lili: Very well, thank you.

Self: Are you working on a book at the moment?

Lili: Actually, I’m working on two books at the moment.

Self: (mutters) Overachiever.

Lili: (modest cough)

Self: So what are these books about?

Lili: Hmm. They are about (in no particular order): love, high school, bisexuality, belief, obsession, silvery fish, musical theatre, the Holy Land, stage crew, Isaac Newton, pirates and pink cashmere jumpers.

Self: I’m not sure that was a very helpful answer.

Lili: Fine. One of the books is about bisexuality, stage crew and high school musicals. The other is about the Children’s Crusade.

Self: The what?

Lili: In 1212, an army of 10 000 kids marched through France and Italy to save Jerusalem from the Infidel.

Self: Wow! Really?

Lili: Probably not, actually, given that there are no contemporary records of it. But it’s a great story nonetheless.

Self: Did they get there? To Jerusalem?

Lili: No. They were kidnapped by pirates and sold into slavery.

Self: A feel-good kind of story, then.

Lili: It’s your average boy-meets-spiritual-guru-and-follows-blindly-into- mortal-peril romcom. Think Stand By Me meets Ten Things I Hate About You meets John 6:5-15, with just a whiff of The God Delusion for good measure.

Self: Right. And the other one? The musical theatre one?

Lili: It’s about a lesbian who secretly thinks she might like boys.

Self: A going-back-into-the-closet story?

Lili: Sort of. It’s supposed to be my response to this.

Self: Is it just me, or are both these books a little… controversial?

Lili: Pfft. I’m just getting started.

Self: Do either of these books have a title?

Lili: The stage crew one is currently called Pink is for Girls, although that may well change. The Children’s Crusade one has no title, and I shall pay cold hard cash for a good one. Anybody? Anybody?

Self: Well, it’s good to see you’ve been keeping busy.

Lili: Thank you. Can I get back to it now? I haven’t met today’s deadline yet.

Self: Right, of course. Carry on.

Last week, Melbourne became a UNESCO International City of Literature.

It’s been a long time coming – Melbourne has always been a very literary place. I’m writing this post in a pretty literary building – the State Library of Victoria. Marcus Clarke used to work here, as well as a host of other awesomely literary luminaries. The Library will also be home, next year, to the Centre for Books and Ideas, being the Melbourne Writers Festival, the Victorian Writers Centre, the National Poetry Centre, the Emerging Writers Festival and Express Media.

I love Melbourne. I love its cafes and bookshops and bars and libraries and laneways and did I mention bars? And I love the way, in the middle of winter, hoardes of Melburnians brave the cold and the rain and line up for hours to see some obscure German film at the Film Festival, or see a motley bunch of writers talk about themselves at the Writers Festival.

I love this. I love the way Melburnians get out there. I love the way we think about things and talk about ideas and sure, a lot of us are total wankers, but I kind of love that too (from a distance).

I’ve been involved in the Writers Festival for the past three years, but this is the first time I’ve really felt like I belonged. It’s like I’ve hit critical mass – last year I had one non-fiction book out, and a forthcoming novel – now I have two novels and anthology with my name on the cover. I can say I’m an author and not feel like I need to justify it. I know people, this time. YA people, publishing people, Express Media people, and many others.

It’s my town. My City of Literature. And at the risk of sounding like a greeting card – it’s yours too.

Remember this post about Anthony McGowan’s opinions on Pink Books?

Well the post received an anonymous comment that implies it’s from McGowan. If it isn’t, I sincerely apologise to Mr McGowan. If it is, he should maybe think about being a little less anonymous.

Anyway. I thought I’d just copy the anonymous comment, and my response. FYI*.

Here’s what he originally said:

The leathery-skinned hacks who churn out the Pink books present a vision of young people as self-obsessed, shallow, blind automata, swilling about in a moronic inferno. Reading these books will leave your soul as shrivelled as one of those pistachios you sometimes find, blackened, in the bottom of the bag. Teenage girls, read the Brontës, read Elizabeth Gaskell, read George Eliot, read anything else – even Jane Austen – but keep the pink off your shelves.

And here are his response, and my response:

Anonymous said…

In case you didn’t notice, all the authors i recommended were women, so cut the white man bullshit. And the author i had in mind was Louise Rennison – read three of her books, as a judge in various competitions. I can’t deny there was little of the wind up about the blog, but I’d still stand by every word.

lili said…

Hi “Anonymous”,

I would much rather the youth of today read Louise Rennison than anything by the Brontës (the very definition of “self-obsessed, shallow, blind automata, swilling about in a moronic inferno”, in my opinion).

And it’s a bit rich to dismiss a whole genre based on one author’s work. There are some amazing Pink books out there that are challenging, thought-provoking and empowering – Meg Cabot’s Ready or Not is an example that springs to mind.

Can you say the same things about your books? Are The Bare Bum Gang books challenging, thought-provoking and empowering for their young readers?

I haven’t read them, so I can’t say.

Best,

Lili Wilkinson.

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*Why does this always happen to me? First Frank Cottrell Boyce, now Anthony McGowan.

For The (Not Quite) Perfect Boyfriend, this time from Sue Bursztynski at January Magazine.

Yes, it’s a teen romance and yes, it sticks to the formula that… [redacted due to spoilerage]… But there’s more to it and this one is very funny.

The rest is here. Oh, and the review is a bit spoilery, so stay away if spoilers make you itchy.

Sometimes I wish I could just grow down and go back to primary school. Everything was easy then. School was fun, I was the Grade 6 Spelling Champion, and my best friend and I thought boys were disgusting.

When I wake up on the first day of Year 10, I realise how much has changed. School is hard. My best friend is boycrazy. I have never kissed a boy. And no one gives a rat’s fund ament about spelling.
I drag myself into the kitchen for breakfast. Mum and Dad are talking, but stop when I come in. Mum looks down into her cup of tea, and Dad leaves the room.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask as I eat last night’s ravioli straight from the Tupperware container.
‘Fine,’ says Mum, then makes a face. ‘Imogen, that’s disgusting.’
Mum named me Imogen because it sounded like imagine, but everyone calls me Midge. Even Mum only calls me Imogen when I’m doing something wrong.
I pop another piece of ravioli into my mouth. ‘What?’
‘You could at least heat it up.’
‘I like it cold.’
Mum empties the dregs of her tea into the sink and then smoothes her shirt. She was a total hippie before I was born, but now she works for a classy law fi rm in the city. She still burns incense and talks about karma, and she gets all hot under her Country Road collar when I call her a sell-out.
I finish the ravioli, and rummage through the fridge to find something worthy of a sandwich for school.
‘Don’t bother making your lunch,’ says Mum, gathering up the official-looking papers that decorate the kitchen table. ‘I’ll give you money to buy something.’
I freeze. ‘What have you done with my mother?’ I ask suspiciously.
‘It’s your first day back at school,’ says Mum. ‘You should have a treat.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘This from the woman who started a letter-writing campaign to our local council insisting they serve tofu in the school canteen.’
She just smiles and snaps her briefcase closed.

Tahni bounces up to me at my locker in the Year 10 corridor. She’s been in Queensland with her family since after Christmas, so I haven’t seen her in forever. We squeal and hug and do the girl thing, then she launches into a lurid and, I suspect, highly exaggerated description of the boys she met on the beach, and the bikini she wore, and the expressions on the faces of the boys when
they saw her in the bikini, and the photo she gave them of her in the bikini (airbrushed, of course – Tahni became a Photoshop expert last year with the sole purpose of being able to airbrush her own photos). I zone out after a couple of seconds. I notice a sign on the wall:

“Welcome” Year Ten’s

I can forgive Tahni her tendency to turn even the most mundane events into a drama worthy of Ramsay Street, but there are only two things worse than poor spelling. One is misplaced quotation marks. The other is unnecessary apostrophes.
‘So?’ asks Tahni. ‘Did you meet any hot boys over the summer?’
She says it in this annoying sing-song voice which makes me blush. Because she knows the truth. She knows I’ve never kissed a boy. She’s the one who tells me at every available opportunity that I’m going to be a lonely old lady with eleven cats in a caravan. I feel like the whole school is judging me. Me in all my pathetic loser-y glory.
This is an extra-special bonus level of Not Fair. It’s not like I’m ugly. I’ve spent hours in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what is wrong. I have good skin. My eyebrows are nicely shaped. I don’t have crooked teeth or a hideous squint. So. What. Is. The. Problem??
Tahni laughs and makes miaowing noises. I envisage a whole year of this. A whole year of every girl in the school who isn’t me pashing anything with a Y chromosome. And I can’t handle it. I would rather die.
So I say it. I don’t think about it. I just say it.
‘I did meet a boy.’
Tahni giggles. ‘Cousins don’t count, Midge,’ she says. ‘Or pizza delivery boys. Or the boys who work at the video shop.’
I glare at her. ‘I met him at the library,’ I say. ‘He has wavy brown hair, and he’s English.’
I pause. What am I talking about? I didn’t meet any boys.
‘So he’s a nerd,’ says Tahni, cautiously.
Does that mean she bought it?
I grin. ‘A hotty Mc-Hot nerd.’
Tahni nods appreciatively. Who doesn’t love a hot nerd?
‘Wow,’ she says. ‘You really met a boy. When can I meet him?’
‘He’s gone back to England,’ I say. Where is this all coming from?
‘So you’ll never see him again,’ Tahni says dismissively, like it doesn’t count.
‘He might be moving here.’
What am I doing? I’m crazy. There’s no way Tahni will buy this.
But she is. She’s leaning forward, her eyes intent. ‘Did you pash him?’
‘Of course.’
Tahni lets out a little squeak of excitement. ‘Are you off your V-plates?’
I give her a Look. ‘Don’t be gross,’ I say. ‘We only met a month ago.’
‘So what did you do?’ asks Tahni. She looks slightly defensive. Maybe she’s worried that I have a better story than her never-ending Bikini on the Beach masterpiece.
I’m enjoying this way more than I should.
‘We went on a picnic by the river,’ I say. ‘We had a picnic rug and lemonade and dip and squishy cheese. He made me a garland out of daisies and willow branches and called me a princess.’
Tahni frowns, and I know I’ve gone too far. ‘Sounds kind of wet,’ she says.
‘It wasn’t,’ I say. ‘It was romantic.’
The bell rings. ‘More on this later,’ says Tahni over her shoulder as she hurries off to form assembly.
I am officially insane.

(more here)

I have a new book out!

It’s my first ever Pink Book, and I LOVED writing it. It contains the following things:

-spelling

-secrets

-imaginary boyfriends

-possessed Care Bears

-kissing
-vomit

-live action role playing

Here is an early review.

And here is the publisher’s site.

Maybe next week I will post an extract.

I devoured this book over two days.

It’s scary.

Really scary.

Scary in the way that 1984 is but times a million, because 1984 is about a future that never happened, but Little Brother is about right now.

Basically, it’s about what happens after a terrorist attack in San Francisco. Marcus, a relatively normal 17 year old with a penchant for minor hackery, gets arrested by the Department of Homeland Security for being found near the attack site without a good excuse. He is taken to a secret offshore prison, tortured, and then forced to sign a document stating that he was held voluntarily.

Outside, the DHS is taking over. Civil liberties are being stripped from citizens who happily allow it because it’s making them safer. A general air of terror and paranoia lies over everything. And Marcus can’t help wondering – who are the real terrorists, here?

It’s an extraordinary novel that every teenager should read. Every adult should read it too, but it’s young people who really need to read it. I think it’ll really speak to the new generation of technology and news-savvy kids who are growing up in a world where fear and secrecy are considered to be the same thing as security*.

The world is a scary place, and it’s easy to believe that there’s nothing you can do – especially if you belong to one of the most politically disenfranchised groups of people in the world – young people. Hopefully Little Brother will encourage them to take a little turf back.

You can buy the book here, or download the whole thing for free in just about any format you can imagine here. 

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*Plus, there’s sex!

I’ve been re-reading a lot of Diana Wynne Jones lately. She was an author I adored as a child/teen, and I still adore her today. In fact I think I adore her more, as her books seem to get better every time I read them and unpick another thread. I read Fire and Hemlock once a year, and every time I discover something new.

But it’s been making me think of some of the other books I devoured and worshipped as a child. And I must say my reading choices were not always as inspired. Here’s my top three books on Lili’s Adolescent Bookshelf of Shame:

1. The Clan of the Cave Bear (and sequels)

Yeah, you can say that you’re reading it for the Realistic Prehistorical Blah Blah, but let’s face it. We read it for the sex. For the throbbing members and Pleasures (particularly in later volumes) and the rest of the rather limber and creative lovemaking that those wacky cavemen got up to. Also, are we really supposed to believe that one girl invented the needle, the spear-thrower, the bra, firestarters, surgical stitches, domestication of animals (including horseback riding), and was the first person to figure out that sex = babies? For serious?

2. The Mists of Avalon

This came in the very deepest part of my crushed velvet, crystals, Loreena McKennit-loving phase. I loved it. Celtic jiggery-whatsit. Strong feminist themes. Mythology. Except, on revisiting it as an adult, I realised that the so-called Strong Women are in fact, weak, indecisive, antagonistic, manipulated and manipulative, and all seemed to be completely obsessed with Lancelot, whose barely-sketched character was just the wet, empty husk of an underwear model. (although, Arthur/Lancelot/Gwenhwyfar threesome? hot.)

3. Everything by David Eddings

This was my real obsession. I read those books over and over. I eagerly awaited the next one, and shelled out all my hard-earned pocket money for a shiny hardcover big enough to beat someone to death with. Oh, Garion. A pig-keeper with a secret destiny. A fiery-tempered redheaded princess. I WONDER IF THEY WILL GET MARRIED. Meh. And don’t get me started on the racism. OH the racism. The western world is ruled by a tiny tiny island up in the top left hand corner of the map where it rains a lot. My, how very much the Chereks are like Vikings. What nice, loyal people they all are. Like those nice French Mimbrates, so noble.

But wait! What happens when we move further east? Snake-worshipping poison-loving jungle-dwelling eunuchs, that’s what.

Oh-ho, and now what? Further east? Self scarification? Worshipping evil gods? Ritual sacrifice? We’d better KILL THEM ALL gently encourage them to become more like us! Because we’re better! Hurrah!

What about you? What once-loved books now make you cringe?

The A2 section of today’s Age contained some great stuff. A fabulous article by Ursula Dubosarsky about darkness and the bleak life of Rudolf T?snohlídek. A good (if short) review of Philip Pullman’s Once Upon a Time in the North. A good start really, including these two profound and achingly beautiful voices in young adult literature.

Then, there was a review of Nam Le’s The Boat, an adult novel that apparently contains no lesbian vampires (although why the reviewer chose to point this out, I’m not sure. A good headline, perhaps?). The review was by James Ley, can be found on page 31, and contained the following sentence:

“It reads like an unusually well-crafted piece of teen fiction, the work of a gifted imitator rather than a unique talent.”

While I understand that hanging Mr Ley up by his thumbs until he squeals is probably not an option, I would like to take this opportunity to suggest that Mr Ley should try reading some teen fiction (like that written by “unique talents” Dubosarsky or Pullman, as an example). And perhaps The Age could, in future, think twice before publishing such patronising and uneducated drivel.

Sharon Creech’s Love that Dog is one of maybe two books that is always in my fluctuating top five. It is perfect. A perfect, funny, beautiful, sad, marvellous book.

And now there’s going to be a sequel.

(from English Russia)

Can anyone see the small mistake in this book review? Anyone?

(thanks to Judith for sending me this)

EVERYBODY loves a book launch.

So come along to the launch of SHORT.

It’s on Monday 26 May (yeah, that’s THIS MONDAY).

At 6pm.

It’s at The Little Bookroom (759 Nicholson Street, North Carlton)

aka, here:

View Larger Map

All are welcome!

Royalties from the sale of the book will go to Big Brothers Big Sisters.

Dr Mark Norman, Senior Curator of Molluscs at Museum Victoria, likes escaping too.

He says that non-fiction helps kids escape into the real world.

Which is a Good Thing to say, because lots of people say that non-fiction isn’t really reading. Which is nonsense, but provides me with an exellent segue to provide you with a snippet from my talk from the Emerging Writers Festival last weekend:

David Fickling, UK childrens publisher extraordinaire, started out publishing Goosebumps. And although he has moved on to bigger and better things, he hasn’t forgotten his roots. Goosebumps, The Babysitter’s Club, The Guiness Book of Records… David calls these books readermakers. They’re easy books, accessible books. They’re like the white bread equivalent of books – light, insubstantial, and without much dietary fibre.

But if you’re a young person, and you’re a bit scared of this whole Reading thing because you don’t really get it, and everyone keeps telling you how important it is, a Readermaker can be a great thing. Because you pick it up. It’s easy to get into. Pages turn. Before you know it, you’ve finished. You read a whole book. A whole entire book. And it was fun. So you read another one. This reading thing is easy! And because you’re breezing along, you’re a reading gun, you think about picking up something a bit longer. Something a bit harder. And your love of reading has begun. You’ve escaped.

At his keynote at the CBCA conference, Neil Gaiman talked about escapism and imagination. He said (in response to a previous keynote bagging Rowling for being a crap writer), that there is no such thing as a bad book, because reading is a contract between a reader and a writer, and when it comes to children’s books, the reader does a lot of the work.

Gaiman told us about this book he read as a child. One part he remembered particularly clearly. The torches on the hill, the dark, terrifying night. The smell of smoke. The glint of firelight on the river below. The restlessness of men and horses, before the battle. On returning to the book as an adult, Gaiman was shocked to find the actual words that conveyed all of these pictures:

“Gosh, what a dark and scary night it is,” said Margaret.

So, Gaiman told us, it doesn’t really matter if the writer isn’t doing her job. Because young readers will do it for her. And that we shouldn’t try to prevent children from reading crap, because you can grow a lot of good stuff in crap.

It’s not really an excuse for shoddy writing, though, and Gaiman emphasised how important it is to write good books for children. Think of how many people have only ever consumed cheap, nasty wine/whiskey/sushi, and then assumed that they didn’t like it, and never tried it again. It could be the same for kids; if the first book they read is shit, then they might think they don’t like reading.

Anyway. This isn’t very coherent, so I shall finish by reminding you of Chesterton via Gaiman.

The only kind of people who complain about escape, and escapism, are jailers.

You can come and hear me talk at the Emerging Writers Festival tomorrow!

I’m on a panel called How To Find an Audience (without losing your soul). It’s at 12:30 in the Yarra Room at Melbourne Town Hall, and I intend to say some fascinating and salacious things about commercial fiction, specifically Allen & Unwin’s fabulous* new Girlfriend Fiction series.

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* I has a bias.

Check out Short, a new anthology edited by me!

It’s lots of stories, pictures and bits by some famous people*, some new people, and some young people.

I really love the format of the book – it’s pretty much pocket-sized, and it has a flip book of a jumping dog in each page corner.

It’s a bit strange having a book with my name on it, when I didn’t write any of it (except the introduction), but the whole process of curating the book – selecting the pieces, working on them with the writers, organising them into some kind of coherent flow – was a really amazing learning experience.

Available at a good bookshop near you, etc. Oh, and all royalties go to Big Brothers, Big Sisters.

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*including Penni Russon, Andy Griffiths, Tessa Duder, Steven Herrick, Julia Lawrinson and Simmone Howell. Just to name a few.

The last three days have been spent running around gossiping networking at the CBCA conference. I’m going to write a longer and more coherent post about it later this week, but for now, permit me some bullet points.

• My fangirl moment was only tangentially related to Neil Gaiman. Standing at the Allen & Unwin stall, looking at Bruce Mutard’s new graphic novel, a tall man looking over my shoulder. ‘Eddie Campbell!’ I say, and he looks quite surprised to be recognised. We chat about graphic novels and a possible new TV show that sounds fascinating.
• Bernard Beckett is a great speaker and I can’t wait to read Genesis.
• I am horrified that this man is starring in the film of this book (which I just devoured) ERIC BANA IS NOT A LIBRARIAN.
• There was a typo on a poster, proclaiming an “additive new series”. Now with phenylalanine!
• Why isn’t my job title as awesome as Dr Mark Norman‘s, who is Senior Curator of Molluscs at Melbourne Museum??

1. I met Julia Gillard today. She was at the launch of the MS Readathon, and said some AWFULLY sensible things about how good it would be if Australia put as much effort into winning at reading, as we did into winning at sport. I have a girl-crush.

2. Boy Toy, by Barry Lyga, is a really good book. I heartily recommend. It’s a story that I’ve read many times before, but never as well as in this case.

3. I am going to pinch two very interesting comments that JL Bell put on Oz and Ends, from a panel:

-”Teen books are like adult books, without all the bullshit.” –H Jack Martin.

-”I thought I’d been condescended to because I’m an Indian. That was nothing compared to the condescended to because I’ve written a YA novel… because I’ve written a book about a 16-year-old, that means I’m a capitalistic whore.” –Sherman Alexie, author of another very good book.

My favourite book cover of the week:

My favourite headline of the week: Man charged after teen bashed with hedgehog.

My favourite cheezburger of the week:

And here’s an old favourite, with a twist.

I’ll be at the Coburg Library on Thursday evening, talking about Me and My Books and My Job. I might even read from one of my New Books…

7pm, Thursday 10 April
Coburg Library
Cnr Victoria and Louisa Streets
Coburg.

To book, call 9353 4000

Oh look! It’s a new anthology, featuring a creepy story by me!

Trust Me is published by Ford Street Press and edited by Paul Collins, and features such luminaries as Shaun Tan, Gary Crew, James Roy and David Metzenthen. It has an introduction by Isobelle Carmody, and can be found in the normal places where you find books.

The super-keen should come along to the launch, which will be at the State Library of Victoria Theatrette on Thursday April 10, at 4pm.

PS. I’m older! w00t!

Over at insideadog, Maureen Johnson is putting to the test the theory that all books are made better with a zombie.

And you’re invited! Transform a work of existing literature by adding a zombie. You might even win a prize…

Here’s examples from Maureen, Justine and Scott. And here’s mine, with apologies to Walt Whitman:

O ZOMBIE! my Zombie! our fearful trip is done; 

Our bodies weather’d every whack, the brains we sought are nom nom nom; 

Our lunch is near, the bells I hear, the people all screaming, 

While follow eyes the zombie reel, our onslaught grim and daring: 

But O brains! brains! brains!

O the bleeding drops of red, 

Where on the deck my dinner lies, 

Fallen cold and dead.

Skanky Teen Girl #1: Ohmigawd, have youse read that book Twilight?

Skanky Teen Girl #2: Huh?

STG #1: Twilight? It’s Stephanie Meyer? It’s the BOMB.

STG #2: Books? Yuck?

STG #1: No, I know that, you know, teachers say you fall in love with a character in a book? And I’m all like gross? That’s so dumb? But I swear, chapter one of Twilight and I just… you just… he’s so…

STG #2: Shut up. Let’s go to Supré .

“The Potter books in general are a prolonged argument for tolerance,”

-JK Rowling

I find with all things Harry Potter, that I really enjoy it, until I start thinking, and then I get irritated. It was the same with Rowling’s recent announcement about Dumbledore’s sexuality.

At first I thought “awesome! positive gay characters in children’s literature!”

And then I thought 4 things.

Thing #1

“He is my character. He is what he is and I have the right to say what I say about him.”

Once your book is published, it doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to your readers. Let THEM tell YOU what happens next, not the other round.

Thing #2

“If I’d known it would make you so happy, I would have announced it years ago!”

No. You should have announced it years ago anyway. You should have put it in the books. You are probably the most influential human being in the world for young people. You have more power to influence young people’s attitudes than the United Nations, Sesame Street and their parents combined. You had an opportunity to present them with a positive gay role model, and you chose not to, I assume, because you were scared of the reaction from the religious right.

Thing #3

[Rowling] didn’t feel the need to be explicit about Dumbledore’s sexual preferences because she wanted to focus on character development.

I’m going to skip over the fact that many gay people might find that sentence deeply offensive.

Dumbledore was brave. Dumbledore liked to stick it to the Man (no pun intended). Dumbledore was never afraid to tell anyone his opinion, no matter how powerful or dangerous they were.

Except no one in the Harry Potter world knew he was gay. Not Harry, or anyone else that we know of. So he was in the closet.

So if a man as open and brave as Dumbledore felt he needed to keep his sexuality a secret – exactly what kind of a world is the Potterverse? How homophobic must the world be for Dumbledore to conceal such an important part of his identity? That’s not a “positive message” at all, or a “prolonged argument for tolerance”. It’s sad and regressive and scary.

Thing #4

Seriously. Like Rita Skeeter wouldn’t have known and put it in her book.

So, if Enid Blyton left secret codes in her books to tell the world how much she hated her first husband… well, that would be Made of Awesome.

But the “clues” that biographer Duncan McClaren found in the Mystery books are… unconvincing. To say the least:

1. Her husband used to drink in the cellar. The bumbling policeman got locked in the cellar. Once.
2. Her husband had no imagination. The bumbling policeman had no imagination.
3. Her husband’s name was Hugh. The bumbling policeman’s name was Theophilus Goon, which anagrams to O Hugh Spoilt One or O Let Hugh Poison.

Yeah? Well it also anagrams to Highest I Polo On and Eighth Oil Spoon. And Sleigh Hop In Too.

There are, in fact 32250 legitimate anagrams of Theophilus Goon. Yep. THIRTY TWO THOUSAND. Secret code my foot.

So let’s give up on that particular “theory”, and look at the awesome new promotion for the Wyoming Library.

I have such a complicated relationship with Harry.

I approach him as a reader, a fan, a critic, a children’s literature professional and a writer.

I spent the weekend with my peeps, curled up on sofas under doonas, munching on pumpkin cupcakes and bagels and listening to Snaz read the book aloud. It was awesome. We laughed, we cried, we complained at the huge tracts of exposition. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, as I always have whenever I’ve read a HP book.

There are a lot of criticisms I could make, but I’m going to skip over most of them. You can overlook a lot of faults for a book that inspires so much hype, joy, love and enthusiasm.

BUT.

There’s just this one thing.

The muggles.

I really, really, really wanted there to be a Muggle in the final battle. I wanted, just ONCE in the entire 7 part series, for there to be a Muggle who was a Good Guy. Not someone nasty or stupid or ineffectual. Someone GOOD. I really thought that we might see the New Improved Dudley again.

And after the series railed for so long against the Slytherins and Death Eaters for their attitudes towards halfbloods and mudbloods and purebloods – what happened with the Good Guys in the end? All the wizards married wizards and had little pureblood wizard babies. No mixed marriages. No ‘squibs’. It just totally validated everything the bad guys were gunning for.

Even the single interracial relationship (Lupin and Tonks) wasn’t permitted to exist in the Happily Ever After. And tell me Dobby wasn’t totally the black guy who dies in the first half of an action movie.

Finally, I just need to share the cover of Melbourne’s right-wing tabloid propaganda machine Sunday Herald Sun, on the day when most of the English-speaking world were reading Harry Potter:
For a moment I wasn’t sure if I was seeing the Herald Sun or the Daily Prophet. Then I saw that peculiar use of the word Wizard! and wondered if there was a Harry Potter musical.

What book am I quoting from?

#1
He walked right around the cave, touching as much as the rough rock as he could, occasionally pausing, running his fingers backwards and forwards over a particular spot, until he finally stopped, his hand pressed flat against the wall.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘We go on through here. The entrance is concealed.’
…
He stepped back from the cave wall and pointed his wand at the rock. For a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing white as though there was a powerful light behind the crack.

still wondering? try this bit:

#2
…a dead man lying face up inches beneath the surface: his open eyes misted as though with cobwebs, his hair and robes swirling around him like smoke.
‘There are bodies in here!’

Anybody? Anybody?

That’s the opening line of this article in the Guardian.

And it is so very, very true.

Cold Comfort Farm is one of my very most favouritest books. I have no idea why it isn’t on my books interests thing for this blog. I must rectify that.

If you have seen the film, but not read the book: forget about the film. The film is a light, insubstantial piece of cinematic fluff. The book is a hilarious, biting satire that really, really is a masterpiece.

I was first introduced to CCF via a radio play which my Mum bought me on cassette. It was very funny, so I bought the book.

The thing that neither radio play nor film mention, is that CCF is set in the future. Except it was written in 1932, but set maybe in the 40s. Stella predicted video-phones (but only in public phone boxes, and mostly people still send telegrams), air-taxis (but most people still travel by horse-and-buggy or car), and World War Two (but only in a brief mention). It’s quite confusing, because everything else about the novel is very vintagely 30s. It’s also fascinating and hilarous.

So go read it. Please. And if possible, read it out loud to a friend. With funny voices.

(some favourite moments)

‘It is quite unneccesary for a young woman to resemble St Francis of Assisi. And in your case it would be downright suicidal.’

Aunt Ada Doom: I saw something nasty in the woodshed!
Mr Neck: Did it see you?

Flora: I think if I find that I have any cousins called Seth or Rueben, I shall decide not to go.
Mary: Why?
Flora: Because highly sexed young men living on farms are nearly always called Seth or Rueben. And it would be such a nuisance!