Queensland

Follow up to PROMISE, DEAD GIRL SING again takes Richards out into the field, away from his retirement, all in the defence of somebody he feels he owes.

Triggered by a phone call from Ida, a girl he never expected to hear from again (even though he left that phone on / charged / ready), Richards is suddenly not just responsible for the life of a missing girl, but also a dead cop and two dead girls. Somehow in the middle of the notorious schoolies week on the Gold Coast, in the middle of that seething mass of hormones, alcohol and crazy that descends every year, Richards alone gets a bit of a sniff of something twisted and very determined. Somehow young women are quietly disappearing and nobody else seems to be connecting the neon-lit dots quite like Richards does.

As in PROMISE, DEAD GIRL SING has, at its core, a descent into the creepy, crazy, lunatic side of mayhem. In this case, whilst somebody is quietly disappearing young women up and down the Gold Coast, there's also that dawning idea that perhaps murder may not be the absolute worst fate that can befall. Without giving away anything of the plot, there's a slow reveal of the perpetrator here that's probably not going to come as a huge surprise (there's a bit of build up that kind of hints where we are going), there's a series of disappearances, and one young woman in particular that Richards is tracking with help from his mysterious high-tech Melbourne hacker mate.

There is so very very much in this series that you'd think I'd hate. More mad, bad protagonists, although in DEAD GIRL SING we at least have some reasons and explanation. There's all the high-tech wizardry which normally has me grinding my teeth in exasperation, and yet, in this case, the idea of Isosceles, sitting in his high-rise Melbourne tower, tracking, watching, following actually isn't that hard to believe, and is rather endearing and familiar.

But this is not a series I hate. Quite the opposite as it turns out. Despite all the things that grate just a little, I really like the Darian Richards books. Maybe it's the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact, pragmatic Richards - a lone wolf with a skewed moral compass and a form of ethics that he sticks with. Come hell or high water. Isosceles with his encyclopaedic knowledge of minutia (or a fast track on Wikipedia searches). Maria, the cop sidekick who doesn't want to be. Constantly drawn into Richard's orbit she's drawn between being a good cop and the fact that Richards get's his killers. One way or another.

Neither of these books is without flaws, but then this isn't a super-hero good guy without flaws either. Neither of these books are straightforward or comfortable reading. But they are strong, have a great sense of personality and a quintessential "Australian-ness" about the observations, dialogue and behaviour. DEAD GIRL SING is a strong second book with improvements over and above the first one. It's a series that I'd be really happy to see continue.

Sometimes I wonder if a book gets filed under "will get around to that" because of some sort of subconscious reaction to the blurb. I'm going with that. Makes me feel somewhat less daft than if I confessed that I put THE SILVER DAGGER down on a stack of unread books and then promptly forgot about it. It's not age, just poor stack management... really.

Anyway, the rediscovery of this book did give me a little pause for thought.

So we're not talking lightness of touch, violence slightly off page. The reader will be spending a fair amount of time in yet another nutter's head. Which is increasingly a rather dismal place to be, not necessarily because of the trail of destruction and violence, or because of the relentless self-justification or glorification. But, because, well let's be frank, it's all been done before. To make me resist an instant, overwhelming desire to feed the book to the pet pigs, there's got to be something pretty special about this viewpoint these days.

THE SILVER DAGGER not just defeated the overwhelming desire, it beat it to death. For reasons which are actually quite tricky to explain. There's absolutely nothing pleasant or redeeming about Robert Carrana. There's no holds barred in the brutal and vicious killing path he treads through Queensland. And yet, he's fascinating. Perhaps it's the sense of pace built into the story, perhaps it is that there are no apologies, no explanations, no overt justifications over what or why. Perhaps it is the chance to spend time with somebody who truly seems completely without pity, but from a safe distance. Because he is a man on a mission, because he doesn't much care who gets in his road, there's something extremely discomforting about the way that he kills with such dispassionate disinterest that is truly frightening. There is however, the balancing aspect of the cop on his trail. Joseph Crowley will stick with the pursuit no matter how difficult it is to work out what is driving Carrana, what the real motivation is.

There is quite a hefty dose of cop-jep, and some rather worrying potential consequences for everyone involved as somebody as utterly and completely amoral as Carrana presses on with his deadly plan. There is quite a lot of violence which is all the more discomforting because the perpetrator is just so very matter of fact about the whole thing. And there's a twitch in the tail that whilst not hard to see coming, nonetheless made me sit up and pay attention. Starting out on THE SILVER DAGGER I was extremely sceptical. Ended up nothing of the sort.

BELLA'S RUN is definitely not the sort of thing that I would normally read, but working with Margareta Osborn on her website made it nearly impossible not to notice a certain buzz around this book, which frankly, intrigued me. And every now and then, a little step away from the well worn path isn't going to kill me. Is it?

Starting BELLA'S RUN, I had no idea what to expect, and a combination of my personal disinterest in romance themes, and the amount of acclaim for the book did have me a little worried, as I am a bit of a curmudgeon who suffers from hype-hypersensitivity.

There's nothing new about romance writing being popular, and it doesn't seem like such a stretch that women, writing in Australia, who come from rural and regional areas (ie the bigger bit of the place), would be writing stories about things that they know, set in places that they inhabit, and understand and love. In fact, it's a bit of relief to find out that is happening, as it seems to makes more sense than those old bodice ripper type romances set in Regency whatever... them you'd never get me reading. No chance, no how, not even if the only other choice was a well read cornflake packet!

What immediately was obvious is not just the love of the country places and people that Osborn is writing about, but her knowledge of them both. I can't say I subscribe to any particular theories or understanding of "good" versus "bad" writing, for me what's important is whether the story being told feels authentic, the dialogue realistic and the people believable. If those three elements are present in reasonable proportion, then the occasional ham-fisted sentence or poorly crafted paragraph are neither here nor there, as far as I'm concerned. Not that I'm suggesting there's any such thing in BELLA'S RUN. On the contrary. The story flowed, the characters were engaging and real, the action nicely paced and despite the well-worn arc of love misplaced at no stage did I find myself itching to get out the editing pencil.

I'm also aware that this is fiction, and paraphrasing an author I heard once, when asked how he did his research for parts of his books... Osborn obviously makes stuff up. Having said that, I also know that some of the places, and the broad scenarios are written about from experience (not the drinking / not the swearing / I'm not sure about the canoodling with cowboys ... she did meet her husband at a High Country event <vbeg>....). But it is writing from knowledge, experience and out and out passion, that really works for this type of setting, and these types of books. There's an authenticity in amongst the fictional that glows and shines.

Not so long ago, there was a bit of an Australian crime fiction phenomena that was widely read overseas (and awarded) and discussed by Crime Fiction fans from all corners of the world. I remember at the time the minority of objections were mostly along the lines of there being nothing particularly new in the themes or the style of that particular book. At the time, our argument was, be that as it may be, this is the first time these themes have been explored in our terminology, in our context, in our style, and for that alone, the book was worthwhile, frankly, down right exciting for fans of crime fiction here. In the same way, I'd suspect that part of the attraction of BELLA'S RUN and all the other rural romance books around at the moment (and there are a lot of them - so the numbers alone are telling us something) is that context, that location, that sense of place, and the story is about us and our experience - or it's an us and experience that city people dream about. Sure part of its fictionalised (I can personally attest to a decided lack of lanky, quiet, gorgeous cowboy types standing ready to sweep pretty young girls off their feet in my particular regional neck of the woods, but if I was at all that sort of romantically inclined, I'd like to dream... why not).

I can also see some justification for the us and them of the city versus the country - the seeming convenience of the city bloke being the baddie and the country blokes being the goodies. The "other" is often used as a catalyst or a threat and goodness knows I've read more than enough books recently where the opposite is the true and the country is crowded with odd "rural types" lurking behind trees threatening the poor city people. And objected at the time mostly because of the overt sense of convenience. It seems to me that what is more important, is that concept of authenticity, and in BELLA'S RUN there were feasible reasons for just about everything and a hefty dose of fair play much later in the book. But really what we have is the context of a rural girl dealing with the other / the decision / the options / the catalyst and the black and white hats seemed to get thrown in the air on quite a few occasions.

Rural romance is a genre that really seems to have struck a chord with both local and overseas readers lately. But as much as it's not my glass of whisky, opponents or disparagers of these rural romance books, could do themselves more of a disservice than they do to the writers or readers of rural romance. Just romance, set in the bush, or the frequently dreaded "chook-lit" tag might be easy ways to dismiss these sorts of books, but on the other hand, there is obviously a strong attraction here. If BELLA'S RUN and it's compatriots are calling readers to read, and writers are getting the obvious joy that I see in Margareta Osborn in writing them, then all power to the joy of reading and writing and ignore the disparagers is all I can say.

I think it would be fair to say that PROMISE by Tony Cavanaugh has been talked up in these parts.  Having read the book now, you can see many of the reasons for the general feeling of enthusiasm, although to be fair, the central storyline of this book is going to be problematic for some readers.

In Darian Richards, Cavanaugh has created a very interesting central character. Retired head of Victoria's Homicide Squad, shooting victim, not everything is immediately as it seems with Richards. A hard working cop with the victims and their families at the forefront of his mind always, his focus means that some of the case resolutions aren't exactly straightforward pieces of justice. Haunted by his failure to keep his promises to victim's families, Richards is, not to put too fine a point on it, morally ambiguous. Richards is, however, one of the aspects of the book that works incredibly well. He's not your normal cop, he's working outside the police system, his special skill - an ability to get inside the head of a killer, to think and act and find them based on instinct and intuition.

Richards is ably supported in this book by Maria, Senior-Constable with Noosa Police, outsider because of her relationship with ex-strip joint manager Casey Lack.  Mate of Richards since their time in Melbourne, Casey revels in an ongoing supply of vintage slogan t-shirts, and some very dodgy equipment. Maria and Casey form the local branch of Richard's support team. Back in Melbourne they are supported by Isosceles. Geek, technical genius, edge dweller, surveillance, hacking, computer expert, apartment bound, acerbic, pointed, invaluable backup. The author has done a particularly good job of building a small but well-fleshed out team (saving Richards from lurching into the cliché of the lone wolf into the bargain), albeit this team has a hefty dose of eccentrics.

The storytelling style is the other element that is good. Sparse, dark, tight, acerbic and dryly funny in places, this aspect was especially pleasing. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the author's background as a script writer wasn't a little voice in the back of my mind as I read. Whilst you can see this book on the screen without too much of a stretch of the imagination, it avoided that dreaded "script" as a book feeling. Best of all there was a profoundly Australian feel to the book, the dialogue was taut and pointed, dry and extremely authentic.

The aspect of the book that was less pleasing was not just that here is yet another mad, bad and nasty serial killer targeting young woman, but the use of chapters inside the killer's mind, revealing, what is happening to the victims as they take a long time to die, although it does veer away from too much graphic detail. Given that other aspects of the plot - the chase for the killer, the steps taken by Richards, and his sidekicks in tracking down this madman were very well done, the inside the head aspect was disappointing. That idea that you have to be in the lunatic's head for a great portion of a book, privy to the details of his twisted torture methods, and to the feelings of his victims to ramp up the tension or make the reader increasingly uncomfortable is, these days, somewhat overdone. To the point where it's teetering dangerously close to boring. A pity, as the rest of the plot is clever, and the ultimate outcome shocking enough without having to spend too much up close and personal time with yet another barking madman.

Having said that, I'm perfectly prepared to admit that I read way too much crime fiction, and that I've developed a rather virulent allergy to mad hatter serial killer plot-lines unless there is something that makes that aspect of a plot different or particularly compelling. For me the serial killer voice might not have worked in PROMISE, but there was more than enough difference in creating a great new character, written well, with an interesting chase and just enough moral ambiguity and questionable behaviour to make me get as close as I can to forgetting the downside. Certainly I'd be right up front in the queue for a second book featuring Darian Richards or any of his team.