Author Interview: Emily Perkins

Abby got the chance to speak with Emily Perkins about her book Lioness - a finalist for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards.

Lioness is a hypnotic read that steadily unravels wealth and power in Aotearoa through the unravelling life of it’s main character and her collision course with the woman she wishes she could be. It’s fiery, entrancing, and easily devourable. It was great to get to chat to Emily about the book:

You’ve previously won a New Zealand Book Award for Novel About My Wife in 2009. What do you think is the biggest thing that’s changed about your writing/you as a writer since then?

It’s hard to say – with each book or script I want to do something I haven’t done before, so I tend to think from project to project rather than look at my own writing over time. One thing I love about writing is that you have to bring your whole self to it. It doesn’t get easier but I’m more conscious of enjoying the golden moments.

Lioness is your first novel in a while, but you’ve been busy in the theatre and film worlds! How does your approach to writing a novel differ from a screen or stage work?

One difference is in how I create the first draft. With a novel I’m more likely to write into the unknown, finding it piece by piece and building the structure as I go, and with drama work I’m usually thinking through the architecture first, then honing in on the details.

I love the characters of Lioness and how they fit together - they’re so messy and real but simultaneously larger-than-life. Were there any people (real or fictional!) or encounters that inspired them?

Thank you! Not really – they emerged from the world of the book. Although there is a moment that Therese recalls, being at a party and having a man guess her age, that’s based on a real life encounter I had, and which was quite a propellant.

I’ve seen Lioness compared to Succession quite often which makes a lot of sense to me. Why do you think people love stories about the wealthy? Was there something that drew you into writing about wealth and class?

There’s the fascination we have with different systems, the feeling of having your nose pressed up to the glass. What would it be like to be inside that? Money is a huge driver of story: what we do to get it, what we do to keep it, what having it or not having it does to us. And the illusion of New Zealand as a relatively class-free nation has been blown up in recent decades. I wanted to foreground class, both its visible and invisible aspects, because I think we should be more honest about the way it works in order to challenge it as a force.

If you were a bookseller, how would you sell your book to a potential reader?

‘One of the books in this store contains a golden ticket worth 2 million dollars. It’s probably in a copy of Lioness, but you won’t know until you buy it.’ 

Any ideas for your next book yet?

I’m at the early stages of something. It’s centred around a marriage again – at the moment the character that’s drawing my attention is the husband.

Tell us a bit about your upcoming sessions/masterclass at the Auckland Writers Festival!

Voice is the most crucial part of writing to me – it defines and propels the work, it’s intimately tied with story, and it’s what I read for. This isn’t a generalised session on ‘how to find your literary voice’ because each project generates and demands its own. So it will be ‘how to find the right voice for what you’re writing at the moment.’ We’ll be doing fun exercises and looking at the effects different voices generate. I want people to leave feeling they know what feels right for their work, and that they have some new approaches.

Give us a quick review of the other finalists on the shortlist, if you’ve read them!

I have read them and I’ve been blown away by the mastery, range and ambition across all of them – as I was by the longlisted books I’ve read too – such a hard task for the judges, and so much juicy reading for booklovers!

Author Interview: Eleanor Catton

Abby spoke with Eleanor Catton about her latest book, Birnam Wood - a finalist for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards.

Birnam Wood took the book world by storm in early 2023, and sat at the top of Time Out’s bestsellers list for many months of that year. It’s no surprise then to see it on the Ockhams fiction shortlist. I loved getting to talk to Eleanor about this gripping, astute, and richly-layered thriller:

You’ve previously won a New Zealand Book Award in 2014 for The Luminaries. What do you think is the biggest thing that’s changed about your writing/you as a writer since then?

I believe much more passionately than I ever did that fiction is a moral art form; that even at its most entertaining—and maybe especially at its most entertaining—fiction is the best tool we have for exploring intentions and actions, causes and effects. I’ve always loved plot, but it’s only in the last few years that I’ve been able to articulate why I think it’s so important.

All three of your books are so distinct from one another - did you ever worry about what readers’ opinions of Birnam Wood would be, seeing as it’s so different from The Luminaries?

Not really. I did resolve not to write another 800-pager—I figured people might not forgive me for that—but I think that every book has to justify its existence on its own terms.

What was it like writing a novel set in such a particular political time, when that landscape is constantly changing? For example, if you started Birnam Wood now, when the year since its release has seen such a dramatic shift in NZ politics, do you think the novel would turn out differently?

It’s hard to say, because I never wanted the book to be partisan in its politics. I might have made the NZ government more complicit in Lemoine’s activities, perhaps, but topicality is a dangerous thing to aim for in fiction: nothing dates faster. Birnam Wood is set in 2017, when I was around Tony’s age, and not much older than Mira. I felt I understood them in a generational sense. I shared the hope that had been kindled by the election of Barack Obama, by Occupy Wall Street, by the Arab Spring; I shared their growing disillusionment with social media, and all the other disappointments they’d suffered as that decade wore on. (I still cringe to remember that the OED word of the year for 2017 was ‘youthquake’.) So in a sense the book was always written as a period piece. But of course my own personal circumstances are always changing, as everybody's are. If I were to start writing Birnam Wood now, it would be as a 38-year-old and as a mother, which inevitably would have a bearing on the work.

I think I’ve just talked myself full circle: my new answer is that yes, the novel would absolutely turn out differently if I wrote it now. It would be different in every single way.

Do you feel any obligation, as such an internationally successful author, to continue to write New Zealand stories? Do you think you’ll ever write about elsewhere?

I have lived in the UK continuously since 2019, and I think it would be very hard for me to write a novel set in present-day New Zealand because my experience of the pandemic was so different to how it was experienced back home. That has more to do with the need for the work to be convincing than it has to do with any sense of obligation, though. I’m also a Canadian author—I was born in Canada—and I actually feel much more of an obligation to address that in my fiction somehow. Someday!

Obviously the core of the novel is Macbethian, but you’ve also mentioned being inspired by Mary Shelley and by working on the film adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma. How important do you think it is for other writers like yourself (and the general public) to be reading classics today?

More than important. Vital. We can’t understand our own age properly without a sense of how things have changed. I can never take a writer seriously if I find out that they refuse to read the giants of the past. But equally, I can’t trust writers who scorn to read contemporary fiction. They’re just as impoverished, and maybe more so, because they risk losing sight of their readers, who can only exist in the present, and nowhere else.

The flip side of this is the crime/thriller influences of the book. Was it a balancing act of classical, literary, and genre fiction elements, or did that relationship come naturally?

Emma has famously been called the world’s first detective novel, and in a way, Macbeth is our first example of an ingenious plot twist: really a double twist, first the fact that Birnam Wood is made to move, and then, the fact that Macduff was not technically born of woman. So they both gave me a lot to work with on a genre level while also being formally, and literarily, exemplary.

You’ve said the first seeds of Birnam Wood were sown (excuse the pun) during a writer’s residency in Amsterdam above a left-wing bookstore filled with protest books. Were there any specific books that helped shape your characters/story?

David Graeber’s The Democracy Project, Astra Taylor’s The People’s Platform, Eliot Higgins’ We Are Bellingcat, and Katrin Marcal’s Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner? all had a huge influence on Birnam Wood. But for me inspiration is as often negative as it is positive. Mark Bray’s Antifa, for example, was influential precisely because of how much it annoyed me.

If you were a bookseller, how would you sell your book to a potential reader?

It was always my hope that Birnam Wood would be the kind of book that you’d have to stay up late to finish. So maybe I'd say that. But I find this question slightly queasy-making, because I don’t really think it’s the author’s place to say whether their book achieves its ambitions or not.

Do you have anything you can share with us about your next book, Doubtful Sound, yet?

I can give you the first sentence: Eight months after my divorce from Dominic, I saw a woman he had led me to believe was dead.

Give us a quick review of the other finalists on the shortlist, if you’ve read them!

Pip Adam’s game-breaking, ground-changing Audition will break your heart and rearrange your brain, but not in that order. Reading Emily Perkins’ subtle and provocative Lioness, I kept thinking of a line from Diana Athill’s memoir, how the best observers of human nature are ‘lit by humour but above malice’; there’s so much warmth to the humour in this book, which is never malicious, even at its most satirical. The blunt, vernacular style of Stephen Daisley’s A Better Place kept astounding me, page after page, with its emotional scope; I had to keep reminding myself that this was a work of the imagination and not an eyewitness account. And the foot! Oh my God, the foot. 

Short version: all three are terrific books!

Author Interview: Pip Adam

Abby had a chat with author Pip Adam about her latest book, Audition - a finalist for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards.

Audition is a dizzying, genre-defying work of social realism, which the judges of this year’s Ockhams aptly described as ‘mind-melting’. Pip’s masterful use of language and structure will have these characters filling your brain long after you’ve finished reading. It’s a book best read blind, but one that is deeply affecting and truly unforgettable - my top book of 2023! It was a privilege to talk to Pip about her work:

You’ve previously won the Acorn in 2018 for The New Animals. What do you think is the biggest thing that’s changed about your writing/you as a writer since then?

I’ve been thinking about this a bit because a lot of people have been asking this question - which I think is interesting in itself. I’m always writing about the moment I’m writing in - if that makes sense. Nothing shapes my work more than the things I’m living through. I’ve often said I write to try and understand things that confuse me. The New Animals was written pre-Trump but also at the tail-end of the John Key government. The concerns that shaped that book were around inequity and work. At the time I was feeling incredibly bruised by the political climate. I was witnessing this lack of care - for people, for the planet - and The New Animals is largely about trying to work out why power might demand this attitude to protect itself. I think this is what I love about trying to write the moment you’re in because I had no idea at that time how much worse it was going to get.

Looking back on it, The New Animals contains this completely misjudged hope: hard work can be its own reward, community can protect us from power structures, the innocent individual will not be punished for the actions of those who wield power over them and, I think, most upsettingly, the powerless will find a way to survive the climate collapse. When I think about these things, they’re some of the stories we’re told to keep us in check. I think when I wrote The New Animals I was imagining a different future to the one I find myself in now and the one I wrote Audition in.

Probably, the most important thing that happened for my writing and me was not winning the Acorn Prize in 2021. As the room’s energy shifted toward the winning book that night I experienced this overwhelming sense of the freedom of being unseen. It’s hard to describe but when I next sat down to write I felt that wonderful, wonderful feeling that no one was waiting for the next book. That I had nothing to ‘live-up to’, that I could write something with no one looking. I come from a family where we know how to pass and there had been a degree of embodying this politeness, because I imagined people were watching, that I also felt kind of fell off me. I think this is why Nothing to See is such an autobiographical book. I felt while people were watching I could only speak for my own experience, that somehow people would be upset at me if I spoke to a bigger picture. Ironically, what I experienced after The New Animals won was the answer to my question around power protecting itself. I experienced a degree of privilege and wealth and this led to a degree of fear over losing both those things. It was not like this with Audition. The book was written during a year where I really needed to decide where I stood politically. The lack of care I’d seen in the Key government in many ways was still there during the last Labour government because that is the nature of our capitalist colonial government and to watch it being executed under a rhetoric and culture of ‘kindness’ woke me up in all new ways. I needed to educate myself about my position as Tauiwi Pākeha in the violence wrought by colonisation, about my complicity in the justice system, and exactly how I could be an accomplice in the protection and advancement of Trans rights.

So what I see that has changed about my writing in between The New Animals and Audition is a greater pressure on language and narrative to express what I’m struggling with politically and personally. An attempt maybe to work out the things about me in the world that confuse me. 

My predominant thought while reading Audition was that it was such a singular concept, something I never could have imagined being a book until it was. How did this story/these characters come to you?

One of my favourite things about writing fiction is that, for me, the only way to find out the story and to meet the characters is by writing the story and the characters. There’s this Wallace Stevens’ poem called Of Modern Poetry and it has this line:

It has   

To construct a new stage. It has to be on that stage 

I don’t know much about poetry, and every time I read this one I am confused again. But that line, in my interpretation, describes exactly what it is to write a novel. I have to construct the stage for the novel to be on. In this way I think all novels are something we could never imagine. So, yeah, this is how the story and characters came to me. I would show up at my computer or at my notebook having no idea what I was going to write and start writing. I say this a lot and it is probably boring but the first draft is always a process of me telling myself the story. I reckon my most important job at this stage is two-fold. The first part is the turning up. Turning up especially when I am not feeling it - because at the stage when things are ‘coming to me’ I never feel it. The second part is to fuel up. I need experiences and information to bring to this process. So during this time, any time away from writing is trying to live as consciously as possible. Being open to chance encounters - with books, with news articles, with people. So it’s this strange time of being absolutely and wildly in the world and taking time away from it to write. This I think is where the story came to me. For example, one of the major influences was James E.K. Parker’s work on sound’s place in war and torture. I would have never found it if I hadn’t been working on a project at City Gallery around an exhibition Parker was co-curating. The job was part of a few I was doing at the time to make money, which is a massive part of living and one I need to be part of while I’m writing.

In an effort to describe the reading experience of Audition, the best I can come up with is a cluttered stream of consciousness, like synapses firing over a page. At what point in writing did that language come to you? Did you know from the outset that that’s what you wanted the writing style to be?

I think ‘style’ (or in my case perhaps lack of style - which is a stylistic choice in itself) comes quite late. I’m not a person who ‘hears’ voice. I can feel when it’s wrong so I’m usually writing away from something rather than toward it. There’s one choice I do remember making and it’s to have the first section all in direct speech. The book is really interested in ideas around gender and I am really interested in ways of subverting binary gender in language. The book is also, of course, interested in sound and I suddenly realised one day that direct speech is a way to depress the use of pronouns and also it’s a noisy construction. So it was an interesting way to explore both ideas at once. I’ve always been interested also in how direct speech has this effect, for me anyway, of escaping the narrative voice. In my head, direct speech is like a punch-through to a narrative. It sounds different in my head and I love that. 

You’ve said that the spaceship Audition is specifically based on Saydnaya Prison in Damascus, Syria. Can you tell us a little bit about why you chose this as a model for Audition, and what the research process was like?

I wrote an essay for The Arts Desk about sound in prisons. The idea of sound and prison are probably the things that have been in the novel from the start - they might be the foundational ideas of the work. In that essay I said this about Saydnaya;

‘The exhibition that James Parker was curating included the work of Lawrence Abu Hamdan which documented his collection of "ear witness" testimony from released and escaped inmates of Saydnaya – a prison inaccessible to independent observers and monitors. One of the things that became very clear through Abu Hamdan’s work, was the extent to which Saydnaya was designed to create sonic torture. A combination of panacoustic surveillance and amplifying architecture meant it was an extreme example of what Abu Hamden describes as the acoustics of incarceration which created "prisoners who see nothing but hear everything, who were both completely confined and yet totally exposed". I visited this work almost every day of the exhibition.’

It’s important for me to say that most prisons use a degree of sonic torture. This is not something we can look at others and feel good about our own justice systems. I think I chose Saydnaya also because of its actually shape - it has three wings and there are three giants. Saydnaya is symmetrical. In the chronological timeline there is a move from symmetry to asymmetry. The planet they end up on is based largely on the Pre-Cambrian era of this planet when the fauna was more asymmetric.

Audition is not a book I would classify as easy to handsell in the bookshop (often the best ones aren’t!) Who do you think should read it, if you could make anyone read it who would that be?

As you can tell, I have a lot to say on a lot of things but this question has me absolutely stumped. It’s still a pretty weird idea to me that anyone would read this book and I’m incredibly grateful to anyone who does. I think the book requires a degree of generosity that feels really arrogant of me to ask from a reader. That being said, I have been really humbled by the people who have come to me to talk about the book and what they got out of the book. I think as well as generosity the book requires a degree of surrender as well and I think, actually, at the moment there are quite a few works examples of work that people are willing to surrender to. I’m thinking of things like the films All of Us Strangers and The Zone of Interest. I’m not putting my work on a par with these amazing pieces of art but I saw both of them in the cinema and, in the case of The Zone of Interest, I was sitting next to some very vocal people. It was an incredible experience hearing them coming to terms with the film. They started quite angry but sort of ‘settled into’ it quite quickly. My favourite director is Kelly Reichardt and I saw Showing Up (possibly her greatest film) at the film festival last year and was sitting in front of people who really hated it and it was another really helpful experience for me. Eavesdropping on this really candid conversation about all the things that I think a reader would also hate about my books. Of course a book is a much bigger time commitment than a film. I think that’s why Audition is short. I always feel like if I’m asking for generosity I need to respect that and not waster people’s time. 

In the book’s acknowledgements you mention Anne Kennedy’s poetry book The Time of the Giants. How did the relationship between that book and Audition form, and were there any books that shaped Audition?

I have been a massive fan of Anne Kennedy’s work for a long time. I love her work and the way there is this reinvention of what her work is each time she publishes. She is a massive inspiration to me to build a new stage for each book.  The Time of the Giants was the first book I returned to when I was writing Audition. I love the way it holds the ancient weight of the giant and the politics of the contemporary at the same time and kind of uses them to add this push and pull to the work which reflects the perspective readjustment you have to do to include the giant. I realise now I didn’t read a lot of books about giants apart from Anne’s. I did read Gulliver’s Travels. Oddly one of the hardest things about the book was getting the perspective right. I spent a lot of time walking round the city and my house with an imaginary friend who is three times my height. 

In the acknowledgements I list a whole bunch of writers I was reading at the time. I think because the book includes a trans character it was important for me to be reading work by trans writers not as research but a reminder that as a cis person I will never be able to write the trans experience and that there are already amazing books being written that do this well. One of the most dangerous ideas a writer can have I think is that as a writer from outside a community they need to write this community’s stories because they are ‘untold’. There is an amazing essay by Alexander Chee called ‘How to Unlearn Everything: When it comes to writing the “other,” what questions are we not asking?’ The questions Chee identifies that writers are not asking are: ‘Why do you want to write from this character’s point of view? Do you read writers from this community currently? Why do you want to tell this story?’ 

If anyone wanted to learn more about justice and the prison system after reading Audition, where would you point them to next?

There are a lot of incredible books and discussions taking place at the moment. I really think the best first stop in Aotearoa is PAPA - People Against Prisons Aotearoa. 

We’re headed very quickly toward a really dark time for justice in Aotearoa and I think it’s really important that we inform ourselves about the justice system, especially the business of prisons and evidence from research conducted into alternative forms of justice. Prisons are a capitalist and colonial construct; there's nothing natural about the kind of justice they attempt to elicit. The justice system the present government is envisioning and bringing about will benefit no one except the global companies who make money out of the prison industrial complex. 

Any ideas for your next book yet?

I am really excited to be moving to Ōtautahi in July where I’m lucky enough to be one of the recipients of the Ursula Bethell residency at the University of Canterbury. While I’m there I’ll be working on a novel about the weaponisation of humour. It’s kind of about all those times I’ve been told to ‘lighten up’ and that it was ‘only a joke’.

Give us a quick review of the other finalists on the shortlist, if you’ve read them!

Before I start on that, I just want to strongly recommend: Turncoat by Tīhema Baker, Big Fat Brown Bitch by Tusiata Avia, The Artist by Ruby Solly, Biter by Claudia Jardine and Blood and Dirt: Prison Labour and the Making of New Zealand by Jared Davidson. These books all made an incredible impression on me this year.

Awards are weird and hard for writers. This is no fault of the people who organise and work for competitions. It would be so great if writers were paid adequately for their labour so some of the pressure could come off them at awards time. I think competition is antithetical to writing which relies on community and collaboration so it’s incredibly tricky that the only way to get money is to be in competition to get money - contestable arts funding I’m also looking at you. I’m really excited that one day we’ll find other community-building ways to financially support the amazing books being written here. In the meantime, I’m incredibly impressed with the way writers deal with the status quo - the way we celebrate and support each other. 

Lioness is such an incredible exploration of wealth in New Zealand. Emily has written this incredibly compelling book which is making profound observations on money and what it actually buys you. It occurred to me last night that all four books on the shortlist include crime and I think Lioness is incredible in the way it describes what justice looks like to the wealthy and how so much is reliant on who is ‘in your court’ at any time. Emily’s craft blows my mind. Her control of narrative and character, her eye for the perfect detail described in ways that progress rather than stall the narrative - she’s just fucking amazing. I’ve read this book a couple of times and it just keeps giving. I also want to recommend the audio book which is read by Kerry Fox which adds a whole other layer to it.

I think because it’s so compelling readers might forget what an incredibly experimental novel Birnam Wood is. I think this is a massive part of the power of Eleanor’s writing. This ability to be absolutely ground-breaking and still deliver a story that’s compelling. I really love the way Eleanor controls point of view in Birnam Wood. The way an entire set of psychologies seems in play. Eleanor is so good at drawing entire lives in precisely chosen snippets of information. I also love the way the plot is structured so that solutions cause more problems. This is so satisfying in the book because we are allowed into each character’s mind so we get to see the life that has lead to the choices they make. Right from the start when Mira chooses to leave to solve a relationship problem and I’m like, ‘That is totally what Mira should do’ - it’s such a wild and fun ride.

A Better Place brings to life an incredibly vivid and original vision of World War 2. Stephen Daisley makes the concerns of World War 2 urgent and profound by holding the books stare longer, forcing the reader not only into the hell of war but into the hell of life after war. The narrative of the book is so well conceived and I think this is the real gold of it. Instead of trying to update the character’s psychology so they become stand-ins for our current thoughts and feelings, Stephen offers us a contemporary structure to view characters that read very much as products of their times. In this way, he’s created a historic work which feels more relevant and urgent than many I’ve read.

What’s It Like Judging New Zealand’s Biggest Book Award?

Abby spoke with Juliet Blyth, former bookseller and current CEO of Read NZ. She is the convenor of judges for this year’s Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards.

Why did you apply to be an Ockham's judge?

Well, I’ve always been a reader and I’ve been lucky to be attending the Ockham NZ Book Awards and previous iterations for several years. They never get old for me, it’s such a buzz to be there to celebrate the creativity and the accomplishments of our writers, in all fields. I decided I wanted to be part of it, and to give something back to the industry I’ve gained so much from. Plus, several good friends have been judges over the years and they heartily recommended the experience!

Tell us a bit about the process - how many submissions did you have to read? What did your days look like when trying to get through them all?

All up we had 43 books to read. From September to December, I cleared the decks, and read in the mornings before work, again in the evenings, and at weekends. Once I settled into the routine, I really welcomed the discipline.  

As judges, you're obviously all extremely passionate about NZ fiction. Were you mostly harmonious in your decisions? What was your strategy as convener if/when disagreements arose?

Judging with Kiran and Anthony has been a dream, they are thoughtful, extremely well read and articulate. We all brought different strengths and experiences to the judging process which provided balance and alternative perspectives, as one would hope. We worked successfully together because of our mutual respect for each other, and clear communication from the beginning. If we needed time to consider alternative views we took it, our decisions were stronger for it.

What was it like meeting with international judge Natalie Haynes? Was there anything about her perspective on our shortlist that surprised you?

It was amazing, Natalie is very very smart, insightful and articulate. Her perspective as a reader on the other side of the globe, and her experience as a literary prize judge was invaluable, providing clarity and fresh eyes at a critical time in the process.

This particular shortlist is made up of four very distinctive stories that span across drastically different genres. Was there any intention behind that choice?

The short list celebrates established writers at the height of their powers, whilst drastically different they are united by their sense of social conscience. The short list is also a direct reflection of the incredible depth and range of writing we were presented with as judges. It’s exciting.

You started your career as a bookseller! If you were working in a bookshop right now, how would you handsell the shortlist to a customer?

Gosh, that was a while ago, here goes!

A Better Place shines new light on the impact of war, specifically WWII, on our collective conscious. With practiced economy Daisley conveys a whole world.

Audition asks what happens when systems of power decide someone takes up too much space. It’s a genre buster, like nothing you’ve ever read before, often confronting but told with heart and love.

Birnam Wood is a wild ride, give yourself over to this often hilarious, impeccably written, tightly plotted and richly imagined eco thriller.

Punchy, refined and frequently funny, Lioness is an incisive exploration of wealth, power, class, female rage, and the search for authenticity.   

We know you probably can’t tell us which of the shortlist was your favourite! But what are some of your favourite things about this shortlist? What was the reading experience for these four books like?

You’re right, they are all completely different reading experiences.

A Better Place excels in its tender exploration of the pervasive themes of the time through the eyes of two brothers; Audition excels in its world-building and its heart;  Birnam Wood is pacy and sophisticated in its handling of a large cast and multiple narratives , and Lioness for its very contemporary take on women’s lives who are sometimes invisible and often overlooked or dismissed. It’s funny, sharp and relevant.

What’s your outlook on the landscape of NZ fiction right now, having spent months reading the best of the best?

Bowled over really, it was a spectacular year for NZ fiction.  How lucky are we as readers to have all this richness within our reach.  The experience of judging, of reading more NZ fiction than I ever have, and the conversations with my judging comrades has been a gift. I’ll miss it.

Author Talk: Megan Dunn with Yvonne Todd

Things I Learned at Art School is Megan Dunn’s brand new collection of bite-sized, infectious essays that tell of an eighties childhood, a nineties art school education and a stint as a brothel barmaid on Karangahape Road.

Spend an hour with Megan Dunn & photographer Yvonne Todd as they chat about book covers, art school life, wedding shoes and Desiderata.

Introduced by Claire Murdoch from Penguin Random House NZ and recorded on Zoom.

All Tomorrow's Poets 2021: A National Poetry Day Audio Event

Time Out Bookstore's All Tomorrow's Poets come together in audio,
giving you a incredible dose of poetry for #NZPoetryDay.

Divyaa Kumar
Frances Libeau
Elizabeth Welsh
Sam Te Kani
Lily Holloway

Hosted by Manon Revuelta.

Thank you to our poets, National Poetry Day & Phantom.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Becky Manawatu

Becky Manawatu’s Auē is shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards. You can listen to Kiran’s rave review on 95bFM Breakfast’s Loose Reads here. Manawatu spoke to Kiran ahead of The Ockham NZ Book Awards Winners’ Ceremony which will be live-streamed from 6pm May 12 on the Ockhams YouTube channel where you can now also view readings from the shortlisted authors.

How do you balance fiction writing with journalism? Do you have a preference and do the two different forms inform each other?
My experience as a reporter helped me with editing, and has improved my writing in general. Writing human interest stories, interviewing people gives me a unique, though I admit sometimes sanitised, insight into people's lives. I just love working with words.

Arundhati Roy says fiction is her first love and greatest love, and that is true for me too. Fiction means so much to me. It does not keep me or my family fed or clothed, however if I could immerse myself in it more often, either reading or writing, I really would.

Congratulations too for your nomination for the Best First-Person Essay or Feature at the Voyager Media Awards for your striking personal essay published by Newsroom. Is this area of writing something you’d like to pursue?
I do enjoy personal essay writing, but it is a tough one, while writing them I am obviously mining my own life and writing with the belief that someone might be interested in what I tell them - about myself, this feels like an immensely indulgent thing to do. 

 But it is not just out of an interest in myself, but an interest in the world and people. And I guess I am my own access to other people and the world and I like to write with that access kept intact. I also prefer reading essays where that connection is kept intact. If it's severed, ie, the writer removes themselves completely from what they are expressing, I have to work harder to hold my attention on it. It is probably important I try to do that more often, maybe.

 However, I have thought about cutting down on the number of personal essays I write, as I really want to write another novel. To write a novel I need to have a bright, burning hunger to say something, to feel heard.

 If I keep saying things and being heard, I'm afraid it'll keep the fire in my belly just smouldering away, contentedly, the hunger consistently satiated. But I think the personal essays around Auē were important ones for me to write, and I hope I can continue to write the odd first person essay.

Becky Manawatu’s lockdown bookstack

What was in your lockdown bookstack?
I read Bernadine Evaristo's Girl, Woman, Other. I re-read 'patches' of Renee's memoir These Two Hands, and re-read Janet Frames' Owls Do Cry. I read poems and prose in Sport 47 edited by Tayi Tibble. I listen to Zadie Smith on Youtube lots too, then read any of her essays I could find online. Every Saturday I read Newsroom's new short story.

What book is your comfort read/re-read and why?
Women who Run with the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I like to reread parts of Witi Ihimaera's Tangi and parts of The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. Tangi and The God of Small Things are both books to pick up and flick to a page and reread because they are poetic, as is Frame's Owls Do Cry.

Women who Run with the Wolves is to me, mostly about creativity. It's deep and yum and honours storytelling and makes me want to write.

 I have ordered myself a wee stack of books from my main book squeeze. Order includes Hemi Kelly's A Māori Phrase a Day and Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor and Ice Monster by David Walliams for my 11-year-old girl who loves reading too.

What was the last book that really moved you, and why?
Janet Frames' Owls Do Cry. I love the feeling that I am moving around in other human's minds, not being held out, allowed into the strange landscape that is the human psyche. Frame makes these allowances like few other writers can.

What are you working on next, Becky?
I've started writing about this character, a young girl. I have given her a single experience from my childhood to plant a kind of seed.The experience is when I was very young, probably six,I squashed a fly on a windowsill at my house I lived in Birchfield (West Coast). I had been so bored and in my boredom, simply killed this little fly. Small maggots writhed out of it and I was stunned by them. (Mistrusting this memory, because I believed flies laid eggs I googled it and found flies can lay eggs or have live maggots in their bellies). 

 Anyway, I recall sitting there watching the maggots and looking at the dead fly and feeling like I had done something enormously bad.

 Probably months later - I can't be sure - I was watching a nature show on TV and it was about termites, and when I saw the termites I was consumed by guilt because I thought they might have been the things that came out of the fly's belly and on the TV the termites were turning wood to dust and I thought 'Oh no - the termites will be eating our house too and then it will fall down and we will all die and it will be all my fault.'

So I have given this character this story, this grain of worry, guilt, and I just want to see what happens, what the worry forces her to think, feel, do and how it shapes her. Also I just find it interesting how children perceive the world, and I think this personal experience is a good example. Who knows, it'll probably come to nothing...

More about the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards here

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Owen Marshall

Owen Marshall’s Pearly Gates is shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards. You can listen to Kiran’s review on 95bFM Breakfast’s Loose Reads here: Marshall spoke to Kiran ahead of The Ockham NZ Book Awards Winners’ Ceremony which will be live-streamed from 6pm May 12 on the Ockhams YouTube channel where you can now also view readings from the shortlisted authors.

Kia ora, Owen! Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Jan Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction! Pearly Gates is a charming novel set in a vividly evoked provincial South Island town. A sense of place and landscape is often a key element in your writing - how important is place and landscape to you? 
Most of my writing is concerned with the investigation of character, and I like to give readers a sense of where my characters are, as well as who they are. Landscapes and cityscapes affect the people who live there, and the people in turn affect their settings. I enjoy the evocation of physical surroundings when I read and strive for that in my own work.

Pearly is a “good local son” who is accustomed to success in his life as a rugby player for Otago and a two term mayor. He is aware however, that the tide can turn. What were you interested in exploring there?
In regard to the themes of Pearly Gates - I wished to emphasise the complexity of personality even in apparently ordinary people, the moral ambiguities we all share. Pearly makes a bad decision and has to live with the consequences of that. Also I hoped to present a convincing portrait of provincial South Island life.

What book is your comfort read/re-read and what has been in your lockdown bookstack? 
Despite the time provided by the present lockdown, I haven't been reading much over the last few weeks because we have recently moved to another home and chaos rules. I have been re-reading some of Alice Munro's fine stories from her collection Dear Life. As for a ‘comfort read,' I enjoy the Jane Austen novels and also the fiction of Irish writer William Trevor. In non-fiction, I find fascinating the works of neurologist Oliver Sacks. The novel that most moved and impressed me in recent years was Enduring Love by Ian McEwan.

What are you working on next, Owen?
After several novels, I have returned in my own writing to short stories, encouraged by a recent grant from Creative New Zealand. Short stories are not as commercially successful as novels, but have an especially honourable place in New Zealand literature and offer interesting challenges to both writer and reader.

95bFM's Loose Reads: Pearly Gates by Owen Marshall

Kiran has worked her way through the Ockham NZ Book Awards Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction shortlist and reviewed Owen Marshall’s Pearly Gates on 95bFM’s Loose Reads. It’s a lovely, gentle novel set in a small North Otago town, and is based around Pat “Pearly” Gates. A good local son made good, Pearly is a real estate agent, two term mayor and ex rugby player. Marshall is great at evoking a sense of place and character, and Pearly Gates is charming.
The Ockham NZ Book Awards Winners’ Ceremony will be live-streamed from 6pm May 12 on the Ockhams YouTube channel where you can now also view readings from the shortlisted authors.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Carl Shuker

Carl Shuker has been shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards for his novel A Mistake. Shuker caught up with Kiran to answer a few questions ahead of the awards.

Kia ora, Carl! Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Jan Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction! A Mistake is slim and concise, it’s neatly written and tightly wound. Stylistically, it’s a bit of a departure for you! It’s more clipped which suits the narrative. Did you enjoy writing in a different style?
Kia ora Kiran! Thank you! And thank you for the brilliant review you wrote. (You can read Kiran’s review of A Mistake here.)

Oh, I was so ready for a new way. The previous book (still in a drawer, still getting chipped away at) was all about multiclaused sentences and abstruse references, I suppose intellectual play, but geekery, really - it's set among a group of copy editors at a London medical journal after all, so it's about words and geeks who care about words. 

This one, I wanted limits, I suppose because my life has new limits, but also because limits are fun and I've always wanted to do a short, brutally minimal book. There was a different story here and I wanted to be different. No more Pynchon, Wallace, Gaddis, Powers. That time for me - and I think for reading - is over. Also it's about New Zealand and so much of New Zealand is awkward, not quite socialised. So I realised awkwardness, the beauty behind the monosyllables, was the aesthetic.

Tell us about the character Elizabeth? Is she based on a real person and why did you call her Elizabeth Taylor?!
She's partially inspired by a real woman I know in healthcare who is brilliant but has no filters or time for politics. So she makes life hard for herself, almost on purpose. If she doesn't believe someone knows about something she has no trouble letting them know. It doesn't matter what that person is president of, or who they might know. This is obviously to her credit but also her detriment. 

Of course what I see in this woman reflects myself to a great deal and I freely own Elizabeth has a lot of me in her too, the good and the less so. I wanted to create a character I could look to in life and say, what would Elizabeth do? 

In regard to her name, it's both significant and not. I made a cover for the book early in the piece (as you may do when building up its world) and it was a heavily pixellated (real) Elizabeth Taylor. So there's both something about the transmutation of a "real" person in their complexity by media attention in its need for neat narrative. 

But there's also that thing that characters' names don't mean anything. People's names don't. We imbue them with meaning after the fact. Most of my books have stuck to this rule - "Michael Edwards" for example (from The Method Actors). The more boring the better. However, there is the matter of the sculpture of words on a page, of which proper names are a part, and "Elizabeth Taylor" is a truly beautiful collection of syllables.  But I also have secret resonances which I don't and won't let on. Lebanese names carry codes about religion that are very significant in that environment. So I know I'm contradicting myself. 

You were a copy editor at the British Medical Journal in London and work as a Principal Publications Advisor to the Health Quality & Safety Commission - was there anything from your day job that inspired or informed your writing of A Mistake?
Yes - I was in the UK editing at the BMJ when they began publishing the individual outcomes of surgeons. It was a huge thing. It began happening here and we took quite a strong lead in this work and I basically had to read everything. And at the end of that reading I still wasn't sure of the right answer. 

So part of this book was working out some of the issues for myself. An original drive was to have a chapter that was just a graph - a funnel plot - and it would by this point be for the reader so understood and laden with significance she might just see the graph and gasp. Also, in both jobs I am constantly surrounded by these brilliant, awe-inspiring people, predominantly women. A lot of my previous stuff has been about masculinity because I am a man, but I wanted to write about women.

Carl Shuker’s lockdown bookstack.

What has been in your lockdown bookstack?
I'm reading David Coventry's new novel in manuscript (Dance Prone, forthcoming from Picador UK and VUP) - and it's like mid-period Don DeLillo writes the early 80s US punk scene. You would LOVE it. It's nasty and transcendental and right and wonderful. I'm reading Middlemarch for the first time. I'm reading the same ton of graphs we all are. I love dipping into M. John Harrison's Viroconium before sleep to enrich my dreams.

What book is your comfort read/re-read and why?
My comfort re-read is Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare. I know parts of it almost by heart. I don't know - it's funny, it's mean, it's exquisitely beautiful, it's both utterly silly and completely serious. It contains everything and it reminds me of years of connections - studying it in university, deciding it would guide and be central to what for me was a huge book, so I was intimate with it for years on end, finishing that book and it going into the world, and now my daughter, age eight, reading it, getting the jokes. She transmuted the characters of Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Sir Toby Belch into "Hollowcheeks" and "Burp", which, you can't get any better transmuting than that. It's always been enriching to me, good luck, anchor and balloon.

What was the last book that really moved you, and why?
Aspiring by Damien Wilkins. Male adolescence is such a dangerous time I'm surprised we're not more organised about it as a society. I only say male because I am one and my own is quite personal to me, and the facts, dangers and failures of masculinity in New Zealand still concern me. 

Also the consequences of failed male adolescence always affect others so much. The suicides and car crashes, all the physical acts and acting out. It's incredible to see people lose their way. It happens less and less as we get older and our bubbles shrink. We see people die. In high school we see all their changes up close - the deaths, the accidents, but also the triumphs, the transformations, the willed personality changes where people become other people sometimes over the space of months. The awful, rapid, rapid declines. It's a terrifying time and Damien captured it so well.

What are you working on next, Carl?
I'm working on work at the moment, gotta pay the bills, but I have a manuscript in a drawer I love to tinker on, one I love and may one day be ready for the world.

More information about the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards can be found here.

Customer Review: Lizard's Tale by Weng Wai Chan

by Peggy Taylor (11)

Lizard’s Tale is an amazing book! This truly captivating mystery is set in Singapore when World War 2 was being fought. It tells the story of Lizard, a poor boy surviving on odd jobs and petty theft, and the people around him. Lizard’s Tale has it all - murder, mystery, codebooks, liars, friendship, traitors and even a little bit of history. 

I would recommend this book for kids who love mysteries or want to try something new. After all this book has a little bit of everything, and I really enjoyed it.

Overall, this book is impossible to put down! So what are you waiting for? Go order yourself a copy!

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: David Vann

David Vann has been shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction at this year’s Ockham New Zealand Book Awards for his novel Halibut on the Moon. Vann took time out from building a 50-foot aluminium sailing trimaran to catch up with Kiran ahead of the awards.

Kia ora, David! Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction! Halibut on the Moon is a powerful but dark read. It re-visits a theme you have previously examined in your fiction - the suicide of your father Jim. How do you retain a sense of perspective when you are writing about such heavy personal history?
Interesting question, because I guess in fiction we don’t try to retain a sense of perspective. That implies a distance and not being affected, and the point here, in writing or reading Greek tragedy, is to suffer and be broken in order to see. 

I was trying to get as close as possible to my father’s despair and final days and trying to forget my own perspective. I was writing without a plan or outline and was often surprised by what the characters did or said or felt. 

Tragedy is refreshing because it offers us a descent within a safe space, art, and then we emerge refreshed. But we have to suffer first.

You’ve explored the men in your family from different angles - has this helped you understand them on a deeper level? And what angle are you interested in exploring next?
Writing about my father and grandfathers and uncle has helped me tremendously in understanding them better, understanding our past, and having some context for understanding who I am now. I don’t have a plan at the moment of writing more about my immediate family but instead am writing about our Cherokee heritage, a longer ancestry.

What was the last book that made you laugh, and why?
Less, the Pulitzer prize winning novel by Andrew Sean Greer, made me laugh a lot. The main character is a writer about my age who is seeing his career descend, so it was uncomfortable laughter at times, with too much recognition, but still wonderful fun. Everything he writes about what it’s like to have your career spiral downward in middle age is certainly true.

What was the last book that really moved you, and why?
So many. I’m often moved by books. I’m an easy audience. I cry even in bad movies. Like, The Rock has a nice moment with the ape and I cry. 

But the book I’ll never forget for being so beautiful and wrenching is Shadow Child by P.F. Thomese, a Dutch author. It’s only 100 pages but so sad and also illuminating about writing, about making meaning again after it has left.

What has been in your lockdown bookstack? 
I’m actually building a 50-foot aluminium sailing trimaran during the lockdown, a couple months in now. So I saw, grind, and weld aluminium all day. My stack has been only various aluminium extrusions and plates. I’m looking forward to finishing within the next six weeks and getting back to reading and writing.

What book is your comfort read/re-read?
I’ve read Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian six times now in full, and in sections many more times. A violent book about an America born in war with a future of endless war, but so beautiful in every sentence. It’s a comfort because it reminds me that good writing matters and endures, despite all the pressures to the contrary.

What are you working on next, David?
I’m working on a novel about my Cherokee ancestors. I come from two Cherokee chiefs from about two hundred years ago, and I’ve written the first 65 pages of Cherokee creation myths revisited and will be writing about DeSoto next. I’m hoping for a longer book, and since no one wants anything from me at the moment, so I have plenty of time!

More information about the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards can be found here.

A Mistake by Carl Shuker: Reviewed by Kiran Dass

A Mistake is shortlisted for the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction.

One of my favourite novels from 2019, A Mistake is a clipped and refined novel from Wellington-based writer Carl Shuker who is excellent at illustrating the nuances of place, character and plot. Slim and concise, it’s neatly written and tightly wound. I loved Shuker’s 2006 novel The Lazy Boys. A white-knuckled, striking and believable depiction of toxic masculinity and scarfie culture in Dunedin, it was a thrilling, brutal and unforgettable read. I’ll pick up anything with his name on it.

Written in a diagnostic style, A Mistake is based around a woman named Elizabeth Taylor, who at 42 is the youngest and only woman consultant general surgeon at Wellington Hospital. With a pristine track record, she’s extremely talented, driven and committed to her craft and patients. A stickler for detail, Elizabeth is very process-focused. An intense scene early in A Mistake sees her leading her team in theatre for what should be fairly routine procedure. Her background music of choice is the punishingly pulverising and exhilarating ‘Angel of Death’ by thrash metal band Slayer. So it’s all very heightened and the tension is palpable. But then something goes terribly wrong. And people want answers as the implications for Elizabeth and the people around her escalate.

There are so many interesting issues at play, here. A Mistake examines process and burnout, but also the complexities and frailties around human error. Shuker intersperses chapters with pieces about the American Challenger space shuttle disaster in 1986 which broke apart 73 seconds into flight killing all seven crew members. The Challenger was troubled from the outset, and these interesting interjections punctuate the tension here. 

Shuker plainly lays it all out: if you want to understand the implications of massive systems failure determined months in advance but happening in microseconds in front of you as you try to cope in real time, The Challenger timeline is the first thing you might read. 

Elizabeth is co-writing a paper examining the public reportage of surgical outcomes for the Royal London Journal of Medicine. Meanwhile, at the hospital, there’s a new reporting system being introduced around big data. The atmosphere around this is increasingly paranoid and on edge. A Mistake is set in a strikingly vivid and recognisable Wellington, with additional scenes in Auckland and an uncomfortable conference in Queenstown. 

I love the way Shuker has written this character. Elizabeth Taylor has a fixed smile, like a mask. All muscle and no feeling. She’s up for 27 hours straight and is so constipated that she hasn’t used the toilet in two days. But, she observes, that is quite useful for long stints in the operating theatre. 

Elizabeth Taylor is an alluring and fascinating character. I want to know why Shuker called her Elizabeth Taylor! The obvious comparison is to the famous iconic  raven-haired, violet-eyed film star. But beyond that, her name actually immediately made me think of that great one-of-a-kind dystopian writer J.G. Ballard. In Ballard’s seminal 1973 novel Crash, the character Vaughan has an intense fantasy about dying in a car crash with Elizabeth Taylor. A far-fetched connection? Maybe, but both books share a similar clinical coolness, inner weirdness and steelyness. 

A Mistake is a razor sharp and compelling novel from a singular, sophisticated literary voice in contemporary New Zealand fiction. 

More information about the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards can be found here.

Staff Blog: Katie's isolation recommendations for kids #2

By Katie Swanson

Last time I wrote about keeping minds busy, but sometimes it’s more important for our sanity that our little darlings are just kept busy! These prolific authors and series just go on and on and on…

#BookshopsWillBeBack
#WaitForYourBookshop

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Early Readers:

David Walliams: I assume this author needs no introduction.  I don’t think this man sleeps and I have completely lost track of all of his titles.  His new junior novel, Slime, is in stores in April (ish!)

Anh Do: On our shelves we have, the Weirdo series, the Hot Dog series, Ninja Kid, and now there’s E-Boy, Wolf Girl and the Mythix for slightly older readers as well. Any one of these collections are bound to keep the peace for a good long while.

Isla Fisher: Marge in Charge is the hilarious tale of a rainbow haired nana and the mischief she and her grandkids get up to. We’re at four books and counting so you can read them together or make the kids a pillow fort and chuck in these books.  It might buy you enough time to drink a cup of coffee while it’s still hot. 

The Treehouse Series: 117 Storeys high and still building. Andy Griffiths has gifted us hours where the only sound heard is giggles - at least until you get a description of the plot in agonising detail later. 

Geronimo Stilton: There are seventy books in this series so far, and that’s just the paperbacks.  Once you add in the special edition Kingdom of Fantasy, Hero Mice, Cave Mice and Geronimo does Classic Tales, it’s well over a hundred.  Thea has a fair few devoted to her adventures as well.

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Confident Readers: 

Nevermoor by Jessica Townsend - They are chunky, they are captivating and if ever there was a worthy successor to Harry Potter, Morrigan Crow is it.  The Trials of Morrigan Crow and Wundersmith are in store now, Hollowpox, the third instalment, will be hopefully out in late July or early August. 

Mortal Engines by Phillip Reeve: There are four main novels and three prequels in this series and for any child who likes steampunk, sci-fi and adventure they’re a recipe for parental peace.  As a bonus, The Traitor and the Thief series by Gareth Ward is fitting and thrilling follow up. 

Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan: This series borders on an obsession for its fans. Once you get a child started with Percy, Magnus, Apollo or Kane there’s no turning back. Rick Riordan is the literary gift that keeps on giving.

Murder Most Unladylike by Robin Stevens: It’s a little worrying how often two twelve year old girls manage to get themselves right in the middle of a murder investigation but it’s also very entertaining.  The mysteries and cases would make Agatha Christie proud, Robin Stevens also contributed to the London Eye Mystery after the sad passing of Siobhan Dowd, so there are two more equally twisty mysteries to enjoy.

Artemis Fowl by Eion Colfer: Artemis is back with fresh new covers to coincide with the release of the movie so this budding criminal mastermind is back on the shelf and ready to read.  These fairy meets genius adventures are hours of fun, with a new spin off series The Fowl Twins to camp it off. 

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Young Adult Fiction: 

Cassandra Clare: The world of The Mortal Instruments has six main novels full of angels, demons, action and romance, sequels, prequels and a brand new door stop sized novel to enjoy too. 

Cherub: Seventeen Books! Robert Muchamore’s teen spy series does get a bit mature in places so it’s worth a bit of research to see if it’s appropriate for younger teens, but this series has personally given me over sixty long hours of peace and quiet. Bliss. 

His Dark Materials: Lyra Silvertongue’s quest through multiple worlds are complex, thought provoking, and with the release of the Book of Dust series we are now five very large books deep. I wouldn’t recommend starting the Book of Dust Novels before fourteen or fifteen but these books, followed beautifully by the series on Neon, is a great way to crowbar kids off the Xbox. 

Neal Shusterman: The Unwind series was The go to dystopia before The Hunger Games, and the Scythe series is a more than worthy successor. Set in a world without natural death two young apprentices to the Order of Scythes learn how to balance ultimate power with responsibility. The trilogy of Scythe, Thunderhead and Toll have all been released so they are ready and waiting for avid sci-fi and dystopia fans. 

Patrick Ness: Chaos Walking is a trilogy that’s the size of five books at least. With a fast paced narrative, original sci-fi world building and a ‘talking’ dog, there’s a good chance you won’t see your teenager until they’re hungry.  Patrick Ness’ stand alone novels are brilliant as well. His new release Burn, is due on the 7th of May. 

And don’t forget the Harry Potter is a great read - or reread - at anytime!

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Staff Blog: Katie's isolation recommendations for kids

By Katie Swanson

With our children are at home in these uncertain times, it’s a challenge to keep their minds active. These titles have themes, characters and narratives ripe for discussion and thought and will make a great addition to any impromptu home schooling. If any of these titles look good to you, give us an email and we will make sure to have one aside for you when we reopen.

#BookshopsWillBeBack
#WaitForYourBookshop

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Early Chapter and Read Together:

White Fox by Chen Jiatong: Orphaned fox cub, Dilah, loves humans and wants desperately to be one, so much so that he follows an ancient fox legend on an adventure to find the magical moonstone to transform him. 

Wild Robot by Peter Brown: Delightful, insightful and full of charm, the wild robot is the story of Roz, a curious robot who is activated by animals on a remote island and learns that you don’t need to be human to find your humanity.

Horrible Histories: Chock full of funny, informative and completely gross tidbits to make history age appropriate and fun for primary school readers.

The Little People, Big Dreams Series:  No matter what your children are interested in, be it science, art, fashion, literature or sports, there is an inspirational Little Person just waiting to be discovered. From Stephen Hawking to Coco Chanel, this series of junior biographies helps children to dream big.

It Might Be An Apple by Shinsuke Yoshitake: This simple introduction to scientific inquiry is perfect for curious minds. With lovely graphic illustrations and plenty to learn, this book will spark questions, ideas and perhaps even experiments. 

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Confident Readers:

Ross Welford: Anything by Ross Welford blends science, adventure and humour in thought provoking and often hilarious ways. Kids will laugh out loud and learn without even realising it.

Jess Butterworth:  Pick up any Jess Butterworth novel and you’ll find a tenacious heroine dealing with real situations in different cultures around the world.  Her books are adventure with a message, plenty of animals and gorgeous covers. Her newest novel, Where the Wilderness Lives, is out soon.

Laura Ruby:  The York series is an intellectual puzzle solving mystery set in an alternate solar powered New York. Each chapter has a new cipher, code or secret to uncover. The third book in the series, The Map of Stars, will be in store on the 18th of May.

Des Hunt: The Kiwis at War Series gives children an age appropriate glimpse into the realities of World War One.  Each book focuses on a different role within the war effort, offering perspectives from fighter pilots, infantry and nurses.

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Young Adult Fiction:

Frances Hardinge: This author wraps up complicated moral questions in adventure, ghost stories and well grounded fantasy. Themes like prejudice, fundamentalism and economic inequality are explored through a plant that grows on lies, a space in the soul for hitchhikers and the still beating heart of a dead god. All her books are guaranteed to get curious minds ticking. 

World War Two:  There are a number of titles for young adult readers that deal with the horror of World War Two.  Below is a list of some of the most thoughtful and beautifully written stories on the subject: 

• The Librarian of Auschwitz by Antonio Iturbe

• The Tattooist of Auschwitz (Young Readers Edition) by Heather Morris

• The Boy in Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne

• Goodnight Mister Tom by Michelle Margorian

• The War That Saved My Life by Kimberley Brubaker Bradley

Munmun by Jesse Andrews: Munmun is the most imaginative and simple representation of privilege that I have ever read.  In a world where your size directly correlates to your bank balance, life is bleak for the ‘Little Poor’ and a playground for the ‘Big Rich’.  While humorous, Munmun deals with some heavy themes, like exploitation and poverty, so would be best for readers 15 and over. 

The Survival Game by Nicky Singer: In a post climate change world a young woman tries desperately to make her way to a place of safety.  This is another mature title, but a worthy read for any older teen, bringing to light the challenges of displaced people. 

Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes: Be ready with a box of tissues, Ghost Boys is the story of a young American boy shot by the police.  On the other side, he encounters the ghosts of all the other boys murdered for the colour of their skin, hears their stories and shares their anger and pain. 

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BOOK OF THE MONTH: February, 2020: The Yellow House by Sarah M. Broom

Our Book of the Month for February is The Yellow House by Sarah M. Broom which won the National Book Award for Nonfiction. A memoir of place, class, race and inequality, it tells the story of a hundred years of Broom’s family and their relationship to home after the devastating effects of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans.
”An extraordinary, engrossing debut… kinetic and omnivorous… instantly essential.” - New York Times Book Review

BOOK OF THE MONTH: December, 2019: Olive, Again by Olive Kitteridge

Olive, Again
Elizabeth Strout

Our Book of the Month for December is Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout. Readers will be thrilled by the return of the much-loved character Olive Kitteridge. Olive adjusts to her new life with her second husband, challenges her estranged son,  experiences loss and loneliness, witnesses the triumphs and heartbreaks of her friends and neighbours in the small coastal town of Crosby, Maine - and, finally, opens herself to new lessons about life.

RNZ's Nine to Noon: Girl by Edna O'Brien

On RNZ’s Nine to Noon, Kiran reviewed our Book of the Month, Girl by Edna O’Brien. O’Brien is an important writer who has long given a voice and created a space for girls and women in crisis. This novel tells the story of Maryam, one of a group of schoolgirls kidnapped by Boko Haram in northeastern Nigeria. Girl will rip your heart out, but you won’t be able to put the book down. What a writer!

BOOK OF THE MONTH: October, 2019: Girl by Edna O'Brien

Our Book of the Month for October is Edna O’Brien’s Girl. A clear-sighted and gripping novel about Maryam, one of a group of schoolgirls kidnapped by Boko Haram in northeastern Nigeria. At 88-years-old, O’Brien is as icicle sharp as ever - on a recent trip to Nigeria on research for this book, she smuggled £15,000 in her knickers to give to people there. Girl will rip your heart out, but you won’t be able to put the book down. What a writer!
You can listen to Kiran’s RNZ Nine to Noon review of Girl here.

BOOK OF THE MONTH: September, 2019: The Man Who Saw Everything by Deborah Levy

Deborah Levy’s Booker Prize longlisted The Man Who Saw Everything may not have made the shortlist but it is our Book of the Month for September! An intriguing and expertly plotted novel abut politics, history, surveillance, beauty and envy, this book shows Levy is a clever writer of immense control and clarity. You can listen to Kiran’s 95bFM Loose Reads review here.