Humour

I am a bit of a sucker for a daft title, even though it frequently explodes in my face. Even then, it did come as somewhat of a surprise to be reading a knitting type book (no patterns ... there are limits). The reason I picked up MAD MEN, BAD GIRLS AND THE GUERRILLA KNITTERS INSTITUTE is pretty simple really - a bit of little light relief after a row of heavy, thought provoking books. Exercise distraction therapy... whatever. Regardless of why I picked this book up, have to say, was pleasantly surprised.

A particular surprise as even though the ground is pretty liberally covered with this sort of accidental detective (in this case though she's an investigative journalist), wrong place / right time, kooky sorts of female based characters, a good one is a rare jewel indeed. Humour being, as we all know, a very subjective and personal thing. For my taste, Scout Davis turned out to be a very enjoyable version thereof.

For a start there's nothing intentionally, or irritatingly daft about Scout. (Yes her mother had a thing about that book - sister's name is Harper...). There's no fem-jep, no lack of self-awareness, and a hefty dose of imperfect sexual exploits. She's a tad older than your average entrant, a little more realistic about life, did I mention not daft, and she's no idiot either.

It is, however, set in Byron Bay so of course it's about secretive American cults with bizarre practices and an online business selling daft irrelevancies to people who are easily parted from their hard-earned. This scenario provides Davis with the opportunity to team up with the mother of a woman who has disappeared into the cult who is, in her own right, a strong and really good character. In fact the book is filled with good, realistic, women. And a few good blokes as well. It's also got a good multi-threaded plot, as simultaneously, Davis has a little time up her sleeve to leap into the exclusive school that her sister teaches at to solve a bullying and property destruction puzzle, whilst also knitting up a Guerrilla Knitting / yarn bombing storm, and do something about her increasing sexual attraction to a local cop and friend of her frequently absent boyfriend.

MAD MEN, BAD GIRLS worked for me for a number of reasons. There's a good plot that's believable and realistic. Scout is a perfectly normal sort of a woman with conflicts and imperfections, as well as a good side, a silly side, and a few odd aches and pains to go with a woman who is not superhuman or all young and perky. The romantic plot of misbehaving while boyfriend is overseas is a classic example of the sort of not quite right behaviour that real people indulge in sometimes when they have their heads in their rear ends, and their hormone's out of control. It might not be palatable for a lot of readers, but it's perfectly believable and refreshing human / flawed / something to be daft about that's not obviously life-threatening and, well, stupid. She's even living with childhood onset diabetes and all of the palaver that goes along with that - reminds you what an intrusion it can be on life.

Obviously this is on the cosy side of silly, but it never lurches into parody or saccharine sweetness. Even the yarn-bombing stuff is funny / risky and just a bit edgy. I notice that the second book in the series GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS is out now as well and that's been added to the must read list. I honestly didn't think I'd enjoy this anywhere as much as I did. Goes to show, sometimes a daft title isn't a warning sign after all.

One glance at the blurb for this book will give you a pretty good feel for the style. Yep, another comedic female private detective crashing through life in a manner that can make a reader cry with laughter, or stick their hands up in the air begging for a good old fashioned police procedural with a central female character with a serious drinking problem, an attitude and maybe a bad case of BO. Anything from the other end of the expectation spectrum anyway.

The difficulty with this sort of humorous crime fiction scenario is that humour is a profoundly subjective thing - more so than just about any other styling I can think of. It helps, of course, if the humour is combined with a good plot and a lot more to the central character than just that "lovable idiot" thing.

THE FIRST SHOT does show some glimpses of promise (and there are now further books in the series). Jennifer feels like she might not just be the same girl doing the same things, over and over and over again and there is a bit of a plot buried in the book, although it does stretch believability to breaking point at times. The humour is pretty heavy-handed and whilst it does toe the stereotypical line for these sort of girly, madcap rompy sorts of books, there were some parts that worked. Especially those aspects that had a personal touch to them, and were part of the set up of the character Jennifer for readers to get to know.

I understand why it is that people are writing these sorts of books, but goodness knows there are an awful lot of them around. Hopefully at some stage something sticks it's head above the crowd, particularly something that's quintessentially Australian, without being cloying or too cute about it all. THE FIRST SHOT is not exactly climbing to the top of that pile, but, it is a reasonable attempt, and could garner a readership who like their crime on the softer, sillier, funny side.

I realise the idea of me actually exercising is going to stretch the imaginations of one or two people, but sometimes, I do attempt a little bit.

Not often and certainly none of that raising a sweat panting and puffing palaver.

If I can't read a book while I'm doing it, I'm not doing it. And HAL SPACEJOCK was a rather good book to choose. Although I'm not sure that "perfect for when you're exercising" is going to be a description that anybody's going to be drawn to...

Funny, silly, touching in places, the first book in the series is a bit of a madcap romp style of book, set in the future, where the hero's are robots, one particular human really shouldn't still be breathing, and big business villains are left right and centre. So not an unexpected plot, but there's enough of the "future" sort of stuff to make it that little bit different, without being too hard of a leap for a non-science fiction fan like me.

But then, anything, repeat ANYTHING, that can make me forget how long I've been walking up and down on the same spot is a good thing.

Personally, and not just because the idea of Lycra and clicking around in those weird riding shoes makes me shudder, the idea of being sent to the Siberia of the Mountain Bike Police certainly sounds like a rather extreme punishment. Especially as Tony 'Rocket" Laver is adamant that the bloke he shot fired first. And he was a serial suspect in a series of armed robberies. So you might think that Laver is justified in being more than a bit miffed at the political machinations that are overt in his demotion.

Although he can't really blame just the demotion for his rocky love life, which definitely includes fault on both sides. His girlfriend's not exactly sympathetic to the trials and tribulations of life as a Major Crime / Mountain Bike squad member, and Laver is inclined to forget she exists when he spies something around him that's not quite right.

And therein lies the biggest crime as far as Laver is concerned. He has rock solid, keen as, spot on cop instincts. He knows the very first time he sees Stig and his mate looming around a coffee shop in Collingwood that they are trouble. He might not know exactly who they are, or what they are up to, but there's definitely something Not Quite Right. With them, with the hippie chick they are hanging around with or the would be hippie in the ridiculous hat and his supermarket manager boss.

It's that sense of something that's just a bit off, and the complications of being in Siberia that send Laver off on a partially unofficial, partially supported by his colleagues, mostly personal wild goose chase not always mounted on a mountain bike.

ROLL WITH IT is a pretty good title for this book. The bike metaphor's the obvious one, but it also is a sort of roll with it story. Mad stuff happens, wisecracks are cracked, bitter asides are muttered, bike's are waxed lyrically over (that's not a euphemism) and every now and then a spot of cops pursuing crooks breaks out. There is a plot here that is nicely twisty, even though it's not the most complicated or complex story, much of which is telegraphed fairly early on.

But, and just because occasionally it's fun to beat a metaphor to death, ROLL WITH IT is more your Sunday ride - all about the journey, not just the destination. Even if arrival means you can finally get off the bike seat. Highly recommend ROLL WITH IT if you're looking for a bit of madcap action, with local flavour and humour.

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.