Random House Australia

The initial idea for THE TOE TAG QUINTET came from author Matthew Condon's editor at The Courier Mail in Brisbane, who wanted a series of novella's in the newspaper over the Christmas / New Year period. Combine that idea with the chance meeting of an old mate, a now retired NSW senior policeman, with a story about walking past an old gangster and you get, with a lot of work in the middle, those five novella's now published in one volume.

Each story is a separate outing for the central protagonist, an unnamed former homicide detective, scouting for, and eventually moving into the Gold Coast retirement home of their dreams, whilst long suffering wife Peg's holds hearth and home together. Starting out in a caravan park whilst Peg's at home in NSW packing up and getting organised for the move, our hero's post-retirement adventures begin with that gangster chance encounter which leads to sinister notes under doors, and an increasing amount of argy-bargy. A pattern that, with adjustment of the details, continues through all five stories.

Each novella does follow a well-trodden path, with something providing any excuse for our hero to dodge the inevitable boredom and relevance deprivation of retirement. Whilst that's particularly obvious as a result of the sequential reading of the novella's, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. I will admit that I did attempt mitigation by imposing a short delay between each short story, but it was hard not to just keep reading as each outing involved a growing number of bandages on the noggin, an increasingly eccentric cast of opponents, frequent and bizarre near death experiences, and a fair amount of extra bodily damage of varying types / severity. There's also the very nice touch of a bit of philosophising on a rickety old banana lounge, a lot of deep sighing on the part of the seemingly unflappable Peg and an obsession with Kombi's that certainly clears up any lingering doubt about the likelihood of long-term damage from that much noggin bashing.

Set on the Gold Coast and in Brisbane, our hero strides across his canvas in what seems like the perfect uniform for a displaced Southerner - garish Hawaiian shirts and bare, pale, slightly bandy hairy legs below shorts, above slightly scruffy runners, regardless of the venue. He's gloriously unaware of the environs in which he's moving, although the reader is allowed to feel a real connection with the surrounds (granted the beauty of the bell tower and its connections to the action might be lost on someone tied up awaiting that final bell toll..).

Needless to say, we are obviously talking funny. Laugh out loud, frequently hilarious, with a touch of a darker underbelly. Our hero is proud of his hard-nut capacity, his ability to stick with a problem, his beloved vintage Peugeot no matter how much smoke it belches at him. He's also fighting the good fight that will resound markedly with a lot of people of a certain age - "Do not go gentle into that good night" - go kicking, screaming and creating a huge ruckus. Buried within was a message about the way that retirement isn't a comfortable place for a lot of people, and the idea of looking back at a life, family, and relationships with others can be a sobering experience. The novellas might start out with the tidying up of a few gangsters, but they progress. In 'Murder on the Vine' he loses an old friend; in 'Murder, She Tweeted', a long lost contact, compatriot and priest; and finally in 'The Good Murder Guide' he is forced to confront the truth of the murder of his long-term mentor in the NSW Police. All of these experiences, wrapped up in the humour, and lunacy of the now, explore disconnection.

THE TOE TAG QUINTET worked as a comedy, as a selection of short stories and as sheer entertainment. What I didn't expect, probably unfairly, is how much of a thought provoker it's remained.
 

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.

THE DEVIL'S GARDEN was a book I picked up because the case it covers - The Claremont Serial Killings - is unfortunately still unsolved, and because I've been reading a little about a number of cases in WA recently.  It made me want to find out more about the nature of the investigation into the murders of two young women, and the disappearance of a third in 1996 and 1997.

What I discovered from this book is an inkling into the tunnel vision of the police force which appears to be consistent with the attitude displayed in another case in the same state of Australia.

I also managed to discover a little about the girls who died, the impact their deaths had on the families, and in particular the devastation felt by one family, whose daughter's has never been found - assumed dead at the hands of the same killer.

True Crime for me works best when it either lays out the facts of a case allowing the reader to come to a better understanding of the events or when, in the case of miscarriages of justice or unsolved cases, it investigates, analyses the evidence and builds a possible scenario with supporting details.

What doesn't work for me is something that I'm increasingly noticing from books from this author - gratuitous intrusion of the author into the story.  Fair enough if the author is interviewing witnesses, drawing out aspects of the case, working on an investigation on behalf of a wrongly convicted person, then observations / commentary are expected.  What's not expected, and seemed increasingly discomforting are the author's "feelings" on driving around in cars in Perth, the way that the scene where one of the poor girls was found "felt", and enough other off-pitch elements that left me with an increasing impression of grandstanding.  

Which is unfortunate, as this is a case that seems to deserve a considered, factual telling.

BEYOND FEAR is journalist Jaye Ford's first book, billed as an adrenaline-pumped suspense thriller.  Which, if you're reading it with that aim in mind it absolutely is.  The book starts out with one of those scenes that just make you know something bad's going to happen.  Something very bad.  Four thirty-something women are heading off for a regular girls' weekend away, champagne in hand, towards a remote, recently renovated barn deep in isolated country Australia.  Jodie, the main character of the book, is a woman with a secret from her best friends.  So, when these woman are run off the road in the middle of nowhere by a mysterious ute, have to deal with a taxi that doesn't get to them, a tow truck driver with a past of his own and an encounter with a bloke already suspected of killing a young girl in the local pub, there could very well be more than a bit of doubt as they head off to their isolated holiday destination.  

Part of the reason that the alarm sirens in the back of the brain weren't deafening at this point is possibly that none of the other women have quite the same sense of fear and worry that Jodie does.  Okay in itself that got a bit odd, but Jodie is also the only person who has the encounter with our creepy bloke in the pub, Jodie is the one mostly talking to the tow-truck driver who seems to know a lot about what's going on, Jodie is the woman with the background.  It's possible, unlikely granted, but possible that she may be overreacting...  

Of course that's not going to be the case, and things in the isolated barn get rapidly worse and worse once our creep from the pub, Kane and his weirdo brother show up - taking the girls captive, bashing, terrorising, shooting and generally causing a lot of mayhem all, it seems, in pursuit of something from the past.

So at this point, the plot's starting to wobble badly.  Having said that, the pace remains breakneck, and to be frank, it's written as quite a page turner.  Which made the reading experience just a little bit odd.  It could undoubtedly be a scary book, although somewhere around the middle of the thing, everything that could happen, seemed to have happened - well apart from the ultimate question of who would "win" Jodie and friends, or the bad guys.  Everyone had stepped into their allotted roles and played out their main pieces to camera, Jodie was the brave heroine fighting her past demons, aware of the threat.  Her friends all took their role of doubting Thomas, some even taking on walking wounded to make Jodie's life just that little more complicated.  Our tow truck driver went from possible threat to white knight, and the two bad guys were ... inconceivably and oddly bad.  Violent, extreme, uncontrolled and yet, somehow, what could have happened to four women in this position never quite got way too bad.  Having said that, there were four of them, two bad guys and a lot of cooking with frying pans.... there was something in the back of my brain that kept saying, okay girls, let's look at the odds here....

In BEYOND FEAR's defence, the tension didn't waver, and if you ignored the flashing neon warning signs about plot points, it was, on the surface a reasonable thriller, although it did rely a little too heavily on the madder than mad, big bad lunatic for the threat which is most definitely not a personal favourite.  Perhaps another one of those thrillers which is just the thing for people who want something fast-paced, where the good people win regardless of how much they are doubted, how the mad and bad get their just desserts, even if it is in the nick of time and after rather a lot of rushing around and bleeding on all sides.  It may even appeal particularly to those who are comfortable with the idea that the isolation of rural existence means that there's just got to be a lot of nasty weirdos lurking behind the nearest gum tree.