Category: book review (Page 1 of 13)

Book review — The Farm, by Jessica Mansour-Nahra

Title: The Farm

Author: Jessica Mansour-Nahra

Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2025; RRP $32.99

Review: Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

The author

Jessica Mansour-Nahra has worked previously as a communications consultant and writer in various locations around the world and holds degrees in History and Law from the University of Queensland. The Farm is her first novel. 

The book

Leila and James have suffered through multiple IVF attempts before a final success ends in the tragedy of a heartbeat lost. Leila must then undergo an operation to make conception again possible after which, to recuperate and improve the chances of conceiving again, they move to his parents’ farm, thinking peace from the city and fresh air will help.

Leila initially finds the house beautiful but slightly oppressive. Described as classically beautiful it  is also unusually unkempt, some of the interior showing contradictory signs of age and wear. There is a rear screen door, which cannot be locked, leading out to an area littered with rubbish and a small, heavily locked shed, the purpose of which is not disclosed.

To offset the isolation there are other farms within view albeit distant whose owners James takes pains to introduce Leila to so she might feel less alone. There is also a nearby small town for non-urgent supplies that they visit and socialise in together and with locals.

5 questions with debut novelist Jessica Monsour-Nahra

@ KILL YOUR DARLINGS

Leila’s body is still recovering from the operation and she is often in pain. Throughout there are frequent references to a cocktail of painkillers that she takes, often washed down with wine. This  concerns the sometimes overly solicitous James. She eats what he considers to be too little but also shares pleasant evenings cooking for and with James.

Her unease and physical condition do not prevent her from exploring the farm and surrounding bushland, taking long walks daily on the advice of her doctor. Her moods and some of her behaviour seem erratic and a little difficult to grasp initially, but there are understandable reasons as the story unfolds. Her and James’s relationship was understandably strained, for example, by their mutual grief, her state of health, the fact they are spending more time together than usual, and their differing relationship with the farm itself and his albeit absent parents to whom he is devoted and  who moved away in order for James and Leila to have privacy.

There is an overhanging unease about the house, James, and his absent parents, but the effect is diluted by awareness of potential exaggeration by the many drugs – to which James – more comfortable in this environment which is his, not hers – objects vigorously. And it is never quite clear – given the story is told through her eyes – whether the general weirdness is drug induced or the result of James pressuring her when she is actually in pain.

Although their isolation is presented in a way both claustrophobic and overwhelming, I enjoyed the details of bushland and open spaces. Apart from bringing a sense of bushland and country into the reading, the depictions of their surroundings in its narrative role as background captures both its muted and slightly otherworldly eeriness and its beauty.

…a serpentine stream banked by sandy clay, disappearing into thick trees. The water is clear and I see shimmering rocks, mottled plants and sticks beneath the surface. The sound is gentle as the water laps against and plops over the rocks

These passages of description are on the surface of it pleasing, creating in the reader’s mind an  environment alive and familiar, not something entirely forbidding despite perhaps the ‘serpentine’ nature of the stream. There are however distinctly unsettling moments in her daily walks. There is, for example, the terribly rank smell from a strange concrete structure – purpose unknown – in the bush, and the brief sighting of what seemed to be a stranger’s face disappearing amongst the trees. During a raging storm a terrified woman screams and claws at a window.

These Gothic elements are set within a cast of ordinary, everyday characters engaged in usual farm work and leisure activities among which the two fill their days. Some small inaccuracies of farm work pulled me out of full immersion from time to time but overall the smells, sounds, sights and activities of a country farm with country neighbours and friends was realistically conveyed.

The locals are drawn with a broad brush, and there is an enjoyable depiction of the characteristics and behaviour of the dog who accompanies and comforts Leila. Leila and James’ relationship, which, despite Leila’s growing paranoia also infecting her trust of James, is also convincing. Their separate suffering and struggles to adapt to what is happening in their lives as both individual and as partner reads as warm and painfully real.

Was Leila bordering on physical and emotional collapse due to her health and the death of her unborn child and the fear or never conceiving another, or, given the constant reference to pills and alcohol, simply the slightly unhinged mind of someone self medicating while struggling to retain emotional equilibrium?

It is through Leila’s eyes that the story unfolds, and the claustrophobic setting and hallucinogenic edge of her response to her situation successfully created a dramatic tension that kept this reader on edge to the end.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Book review – Last Rites, by Ozzy Osbourne

Title: Last Rites: Never-before-told stories of a legendary life from the rock ‘n’ roll hellraiser

Author: Ozzy Osbourne

Publisher: Sphere/Hachette, 2025; RRP: $34.99

Review: Frank Thompson, December 2025; Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Icon.  1948–2025.” This quote appearing on the back cover says it all, from Ozzy’s perspective. For the rest of the world the focus is on the word “Icon”. Ozzy Osbourne, frontman for Black Sabbath, the band often credited with establishing heavy metal as a music genre.

When I was young, a mate of mine lived in half an old house that backed onto a large church which rang bells on Sunday mornings, loudly, as if to re-sanctify the air after a Saturday night of very loud music from my mate’s custom-built sound system — Black Sabbath’s Paranoid and War Pigs and other tracks high on a play list saturated with heavy undertones of darkness. Were we protesting the established righteousness? I think not.

Last Rites is not Ozzy’s first memoir, but as he says, it would probably be his last, and so it turned out to be, the rocker bowing out at age 76 on 22 July 2025. The book covers his last years, from around 2018, and includes details of his last concert. The writing style is casual and friendly with Ozzy talking directly to the reader, relating the sequence of events mostly to do with his failing health, but there are lots of little side tracks into earlier events, reminisces, and anecdotes. These may have the odd spec of gold for the trivia buffs.

Ozzy is honest and candid in his recollections, though like anybody’s story I would assume there is omitted detail. This is a man who knows in his heart the end is getting closer and it is time to reconcile and be thankful. About halfway into the book Ozzy provides some advice on how to survive the music industry: “The way I look at it, if you’re in the music game for long enough, the best way to survive is, one, keep your sense of humour, and two, never, ever fall into the trap of believing your own bullshit. Because that’s fatal, every time.” Personally, I’d suggest this is good advice whatever game you are in.

Ozzy’s last gig, 5 July 2025

@ YOUTUBE

An attracter and creator of chaos, Ozzy developed a habit of hamming it up to gain acceptance early on in his life. The hamming escalated over the years; unfortunately, wild behaviour can have bad outcomes. However, I do not recall Ozzy bemoaning the bad things, accepting these as being the result of his own actions, and thankful things did not turn out worse.

While there is a lot of detail about the causes of his failing health and the various treatments, it is done in a light-hearted style. The portrayal of the American health system or lack thereof is interesting. It appeared to me that money does not guarantee the quality of the treatment.

One could be cynical and suggest this memoir is all part of the business of monetising Ozzy Osborne, but surely this is what being an icon is about. Ozzy is more than just a singer in front of a band. And there is a two-way contract between an icon and its fan base. The TV shows, the albums, and the memoirs: these contain the stuff that maintains the momentum of the fan base, giving them something larger than life to adore, talk about, and follow, distracting them from their own lives.

I read this book as a piece of light entertainment, a curiosity, but after reading it I got the impression there is a lot more to Ozzy than local boy makes the big time while partying wildly. When you strip away the bling and the outrageous bits, you are left with a normal well-meaning guy who doesn’t question his luck, tries his best and is happy to ride the wave. Now I understand the relevance of the opening quote.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Book review – The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields, by Patricia Skehan

Title: The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields – an extraordinary account of life in and out of the trenches.

Author: Patricia Skehan

Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2025; RRP: $34.99

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group

Despite what its title suggests, this work is centred on a small town called Steenwerck, located near the site of the Battle of Fromelles. Steenwerck was the base for the 2nd Australian Casualty Clearing Station, a military hospital which played a major role in receiving and treating casualties from  Fromelles and transporting them to the nearby railway for evacuation from the front. (Anzac Ridge was an important site in the Third Battle of Ypres, casualties from which would also have passed through the Steenwerck clearing station.) A feature of the area was the duckboards put down to make walkways over the muddy ground, an innovation my grandfather, who served as a soldier and stretcher bearer, would have been familiar with.

Patricia Skehan, author of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields, was a founding executive member of the City of Canada Bay Heritage Society, who has toured Australia speaking and lecturing for organisations such as Probus and U3A, VIEW clubs and historical societies.

The story of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields draws on a compilation of raw material extracted from Trove, the National Library of Australia (NLA) newspaper database, which contains digitised newspapers and newsletters. Other material is sourced from family-held letters, diaries, and the NLA catalogue. Much use is also made of  material from the diary of General Sir John Monash, and another held by the family of a young enlistee, James (Jim) Armitage.

The material has been organised into sections grouping specific themes, colourfully headed such as Shattered Humanity, Strong Language, Cobbers, Mademoiselle From Armentieres, and more. Because it’s not organised chronologically, it presents as a series of short and highly colourful,  always emotionally charged, snapshots of that very much larger and vastly more complex field. Hearing these voices rising out of this period of history is effective, but highlighting certain aspects while showing them out of that larger context, hence omitting much, and connected only by what the author chooses to say about them, risks skewing the reader’s awareness of the events.

Similarly, reviewers are susceptible to bias when they review a book. It’s hard to avoid sometimes. As this reviewer, I acknowledge my bias from growing up hearing WW1 stories my grandfather, Angus McSwain, told my father. Angus was a private in artillery, fought in the trenches and was also a stretcher bearer, first at Gallipoli and later the Somme.

Medical orderlies at the 2nd Australian Casualty Clearing Station near Steenwerck moving patients over duckboard walkways (to avoid the muddy ground) using a two-tiered stretcher holder on wheels. The stretcher holder could run along railway tracks leading to the train (seen in the background), which pulled up right at the camp. Here the orderlies are changing direction at a turntable. Source: AWM

My father told me about seeing the strange whiteness of his father’s feet, a result of trench foot Angus suffered for the rest of his life, and showed me the word neurasthenia on his discharge papers. He told me Angus’s story about walking on duckboards across mud at the head of a line of men, a bomb falling, and looking behind to discover he was the only one left standing. One day while out rabbiting together, he asked his father innocently as a curious boy whether he had killed any Germans, and his father just wept silently all the way home. The shame he suffered from hurting Angus lasted till he died. 

Consequently, there were areas of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge that left me cold. Almost voyeuristic, the book reads as trapped in an unpleasant and unnatural excitement, like a closed bubble in time where emotions are huge and the events filtered by the author’s presence. There is also at times a strong sense of the author wanting to present a cheerful light that felt both invasive and manipulating. There is much about the Australian Digger spirit, their ‘good cheer and revelry’ despite dreadful suffering, and many extracts which seem to have little to do with what the title offered.

One extract the author chose to include really threw me. It is the author’s choice of material to give a picture of British Field Marshal Douglas Haig compared to that of Australian Brigadier General Harold ‘Pompey’ Elliott in relation to Fromelles and the Battle of the Somme. Haig responsible for the needless death of thousands, and Australians specifically, and the other, also aware, who had to send his men into it. Angus among them.

General Haig … what struck me more than anything when he came into the room was his firm, healthy appearance and his keen, but sympathetic, eyes. His skin was clear, and he looked what he was, a clean-living man of action … (p158)

This is followed by more of the same. No mention of the horrendous death toll and inevitability of defeat that his ‘action’ would result in, nor the fact that opinions about Haig are still disputed today.

There is little re Elliott, the strict disciplinarian devoted to his men first and foremost, who, when the order was made, as a professional soldier and leader of the Australian 5th Division, was forced to obey despite his fears.

 In Trove, I found mentions of Pompey’s role everywhere, for example, an article in a 2006 issue of Army about an exhibition at the Australian War Memorial cites curator Peter Burness:

The 5th Division, the most recently arrived and the least prepared for battle … was put into the front line at Fromelles, resulting in 5500 casualties overnight and no ground gained at all,” Mr Burness said.

“Brig ‘Pompey’ Elliot [sic], one of the great fighting generals in the Australian Army, saw his brigade destroyed in front of his eyes,” Mr Burness said. “He greeted the survivors coming back off the battlefield with tears running down his face.”

Skehan’s only reference to the Australian leader is roughly three sentences, referring briefly to his popularity with his men, nothing about his role, and a brief comment re his postwar suicide, suggesting it due to an unnamed financial matter involving letting people down.

I located this unnamed financial matter in Trove – bad investments adding to his depression over feeling he had failed to provide for his family properly – along with an inquest report and an item quoting the sister-in-law and attending doctors referring to deep depression caused by wartime suffering, shell shock and the suffering of the men under his command, plus copious records referring to the sort of man he was and his role in Fromelles, and his ongoing work postwar protecting the rights of those men who made their way home.

Central Highlands readers may also find it interesting that Pompey Elliott was from the Victorian Wimmera town of West Charlton, attended Ballarat Grammar and began law studies at university before leaving to fight in the Boer War.

However, though playing a massive role in the Gallipoli landing, in this work he is as good as invisible, while Haig glows, and this is what the reader will be left with.

Easy to read and entertaining as it is, I therefore would strongly recommend readers make sure to follow up with other reading on the same topic.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

If anything in this article has disturbed you, please know that Lifeline is available 24/7 on 13 11 14 (https://www.lifeline.org.au/), as is Open Arms, assisting those in the armed services, veterans, and their families – 1800 011 046 (https://www.openarms.gov.au/)

Book review: The Warrumbar, by William J. Byrne

Title: The Warrumbar

Author: William J. Byrne

Publisher: UWA Publishing, 2025; RRP: $34.99

Review by: Frank Thompson, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group

The Author

William J. Byrne grew up on Wiradjuri and Ngunnawal country (Southern New South Wales). He has a Bachelor of Arts in Communications, a Graduate Diploma in Government Administration and has worked at a variety of jobs including travel agency manager, tour guide in India, art consultant, and hospitality worker. An avid reader and storyteller, Byrne is intrigued by the ways history and circumstance shape people’s lives.

The Book

The title of the book, The Warrumbar, is the name of a fictional river. The town of Warrumbar Bridge is located at a river crossing point. This town is the setting for much of the story.

As debut novels go, I thought this book “pretty bloody good”.  Structurally it opens with a note from the author, then a note on language and then a prelude. These contain useful information and background, giving credence and grounding to what is a fictional story. The story is told in two parts, which I thought of as the fall and the redemption.

The main character, Robbie, is thirteen when we meet him. On the day mankind takes that giant leap on the moon, Robbie first meets Moses, an old man camped by the side of the road. Robbie is drawn to Moses, despite his father forbidding contact. Robbie’s mother reveals Moses’s identity, and it is through Moses that Robbie learns about the early days of his mother’s life on the Aboriginal mission.

Robbie’s relationship with his father is a mixture of love and fear. This is a household of anxiety, eking out an existence, not only physically on the edge of town but socioeconomically on the edge. The rabbits caught in Robbie’s traps make a tangible difference to the food on the table.

Robbie’s fourteenth year is a defining one. There is love and promise but, the world is full of injustices, often accompanied by significant grief. How we deal with these largely defines who and what sort of person we become. And so it is for Robbie: he witnesses a tragic event. Silenced by age, social position and further tragedy, he is doomed to carry this trauma into adult life. This is where part one ends.

Part two of the book jumps forward in time. The reader is given small glimpses into the ensuing lives of the main characters. Robbie, now an old man with adult children of his own, needs to resolve the events of the past.

Byrne seemed to be in a hurry to bring about this resolution, which detracted from my reading experience. However overall, it is well done, and there is a final twist that will give the reader something to think about. On how the resolution is achieved, I’ll say no more – no spoilers.  This story is finely layered, and it is difficult to talk about it without giving too much away.

This is a coming-of-age story exploring themes of identity, injustice, and the courage it takes to do the right thing. Some might suggest this story has an allegorical or metaphorical element to it overlaying broader social issues.

I felt Byrne has tackled these themes in an honest, relatable style and made them relevant to the individual. I hope we hear more from William J. Byrne in the future.

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – Tenderfoot, by Toni Jordan

Title: Tenderfoot

Author: Toni Jordan

Publisher: Hachette 2025; RRP: $32.99

Review by: Heather Whitford Roche

Toni Jordan is a seasoned writer; Tenderfoot is her eighth book. Based in Melbourne, Toni holds a Bachelor of Science and a PhD in Creative  Arts. Critically acclaimed for her work, her debut novel, Addition, has been made into a film due for cinema release in early 2026.

Set in Queensland in 1975, Tenderfoot is a coming-of-age story about a young girl, Andie Tanner, who lives a mostly unspectacular life with her parents. At the centre of their existence is the world of greyhound racing. Andie loves their dogs who live under the house and admires her father’s expertise as a trainer. She imagines herself as a future trainer just like her dad. But first, she has to finish school and then the world of greyhound racing will be waiting for her.

Andie’s life changes dramatically when her father leaves home without telling her and shortly after that, her mother, who sees life through the lens of needing a male partner to survive, becomes besotted by a new man in her life who moves in with them. Andie is desperate to find her father and her dog that has also disappeared. Her young life is further complicated by bullying incidents at school and at home where she is expected to conform with her mother’s ideas, which are often harsh and unreasonable. Mystery surrounds her mother’s new partner and Andie learns to avoid him where possible.

Toni Jordan on Tenderfoot

@ The Australian Women’s Weekly Book Club

Of interest and of entertaining value is the greyhound racing knowledge and all that happens within that industry. It makes the story quite unique, it’s been well researched, it’s entertaining and gives the reader insight into another lifestyle.   

The story is achingly difficult to read, but at the same time it’s written with clarity and honesty making it so very real. Andie is brave, she doesn’t know that life can be different and does her best to survive in challenging circumstances. The characters are superbly developed and the storyline is one that is often repeated in real life.

I loved reading Tenderfoot. Toni Jordan has crafted a story that is profound, beautiful and unforgettable.  

Book review – The Pull of the Moon, by Pip Smith

Title: The Pull of the Moon

Author: Pip Smith

Publisher: UWA Publishing, 2025; RRP: $26.99

Review by: Rhonda Cotsell

THE AUTHOR

Pip Smith won SMH Best Young Novelist of 2018. Her 2017 debut novel, Half Wild, was shortlisted for the Voss Literary Prize and longlisted for the Australian Book Industry award for Best Debut Fiction. This is her second novel.

THE BOOK

When we recall, or watch footage of the tragedy at Christmas Island, December 2010, and the horrifying images on our screens, what fades into the background are the Christmas Islander people and the island itself. All we see is a boat lurching helplessly through enormous waves, and anonymous, desperate people half concealed by spray clinging to its sides for dear life. Like toys. We don’t see the Islanders, but they were there. 

The Pull of the Moon tells the whole story, bringing the natural world and human face of Christmas Island to focus from the first pages without lessening the tragedy. It simultaneously sets a richly detailed background of the daily life of a fictional family in Tehran, representing those on that boat, before the decision to leave. The reasons for leaving are touched on briefly, but painfully, and memorably. What dominates, however, is how precious and rich that life and home were to each family member, shown through the eyes of a young son who loves his life just as it is and does not want to leave it.

The backgrounds of both Islanders and the family headed their way unfold deceptively slowly towards those terrible moments where the boat is floundering helplessly towards the rocky island edge. The story does not judge, analyse or preach but merely shows, weaving a story of people – refugee and Islander – set within a detailed picture of life on Christmas Island itself extending after the tragedy.

 The pages are filled with Christmas Island wildlife, with startling images of the resident red crabs spawning like a brilliant red river taking over the island, the elusive pipistrelle bats, the sea turtles, snakes, the giant yellow centipedes with their venomous bites, and the huge and ungainly Christmas Island frigate bird. The rich luxury of a tropical rain forest filled with orchids, ferns and vines, with its tropical monsoonal climate and deep soils, is described so vividly I could almost smell it – and feel that ever-present threat of extinction shared with wildlife globally. 

Islanders reflect on how the disaster changed their lives

@ THE GUARDIAN

The central focus, however, is the people. Those in the horrendously inadequate craft whose occupants had been tricked by a family member into believing was going to be one that could take them safely and in comfort to a life free of the dangers and restrictions they had left, and the Islanders safe in their everyday lives. The pages are filled with the small details of school and work,  references to the local phosphorous factory and the refugee camp that looms in the background with its heavy, wired fences. And within this, sensitive and believable portraits of Christmas Islander inhabitants like the environmental activist mother who sympathises with the refugees, her diving instructor husband who worries about their impact, their relationship breaking up and their daughter, Coralie, dealing with an unsettled home life. Life for all continuing as it does but, even though we know what is coming, shattered abruptly by what both Islanders and those on the boat experienced and did on that day, and what was endured in the days and weeks following.

There is also a slightly magical fantasy element to the narrative. Local gossip speaks of the ghosts that lurk in the forest that surrounds the town, something that captures and unhinges the minds of many even before the event, but especially Coralie, through whose eyes the events are described – a sensitive preteen whose parents are fighting, whose mother suddenly leaves, and who needs a happy ending for the boy in the boat whose eyes meet hers as she runs with the other Islanders frantically throwing life jackets and whatever else they think might help towards the sinking boat.

The story was unsettling to read, being aware that this happened on our watch, in our familiar home, the imperfect and difficult country we occasionally grumble about, one however we can survive and grow within despite an imperfect history and a Prime Minister who spoke of parents throwing children off boats and the too many who believed him.

I think its an important work, and I hope it is read by many.

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review — The Vanishing Place, by Zoë Rankin

Title: The Vanishing Place

Author: Zoë Rankin

Publisher: Moa Press/Hachette, 2025; RRP: $34.99

Review by: Marian Chivers, August, 2025

THE AUTHOR

Zoë Rankin grew up in Scotland.  She studied International Relations before going on to qualify as a teacher. Zoë spent many years travelling in Europe, Asia, the Middle East and Africa, eventually settling in New Zealand. Her father was in mountain rescue in Scotland, so her passion for the outdoors grew from a young age. She spends a lot of time hiking and cycling with her two young children in NZ, and the more remote locations inspired the idea for The Vanishing Place.

THE BLURB

On the remote West Coast of the South Island of New Zealand, vast forests stretch out between mountain ranges and rugged beaches. In the small town of Koraha, not a lot happens – until a young girl with blood on her hands walks out of the bush and into the local store, collapsing from hunger to the floor.

She can’t – or won’t – speak to anyone.  It’s the town’s sole policeman who recognises her face. She looks exactly like a local girl who disappeared seventeen years ago. She has the same red hair, the same green eyes

What horrors has she left behind in the bush? Who will come looking for her? And what secrets are about to come to light?

THE BOOK

This thriller drew me in and left me feeling unsettled as it tells how those closest to you can be even more dangerous than the deadliest wilderness. Rankin draws the reader into the rugged Isle of Skye and the unforgiving but beautiful West Coast of NZ. This, her debut novel, is an atmospheric and chilling tale about family, love, loyalty and survival.

The story jumps between three different time periods. Most of the book alternates between Effie’s childhood (the child who disappeared) and her present-day circumstances when she is called back for the child (Anya) who has appeared from the bush, the one who looks just like her. The back and forth can be a little disruptive but really makes the past and the present come together when the finale is reached and everyone is safe – or are they?

A well written, evocative and downright scary story because such things have happened, are probably happening now, and sadly will continue to occur.

Marian Chivers has a lifelong interest in reading and writing with her work and study involving books from children’s literature to post graduate studies. 

> Review copy supplied by the publisher.

Book review – The Midnight Estate, by Kelly Rimmer

Title: The Midnight Estate

Author: Kelly Rimmer

Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2025; RRP: $34.99

Review by: Marian Chivers, August, 2025

Ballarat Writers Inc Book Review Group

THE AUTHOR

Kelly Rimmer is the author of historical and contemporary fiction, including The Warsaw Orphan, The Things We Cannot Say and The Secret Daughter, with 3 million books sold.  Her books have been translated into dozens of languages and have appeared on bestseller lists around the world.  Since 2022, Kelly has owned and operated Collins Booksellers Orange, the last remaining bookstore in the regional city where she lives. The setting of regional NSW is one that Rimmer knows well and brings to life through her writing.

THE BOOK

Fiona Winslow has been through a tumultuous year that sends her searching for solace in the restoration of a dilapidated country mansion, Wurimbirra. A mansion that she once called home. Her mother is against the restoration and the locals consider the place haunted.

When she finds a book, The Midnight Estate, and begins to read it, she finds a tale of love, loss and betrayal to mirror her own. How well does she know her old home and how well does she know her family? A book-within-a-book mystery covering two generations with the family’s darkest secrets coming to light.

Although I could see how the plot would unravel, the writing kept my interest to find out exactly how it would all play out.

The regional setting and her return to the friends of her youth provide a nice depth to the work and Fiona and her mother. The main characters are well defined and the emotions are real. It even made me cry (sad and happy tears).

This is the first of Rimmer’s books that I have read and I would definitely consider any of her other works after devouring The Midnight Estate

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – Arborescence, by Rhett Davis

Title: Arborescence

Author: Rhett Davis

Publisher: Hachette, July 2025; RRP: $32.99

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Arborescence had me hooked from the prologue, in which an unidentified ‘she’ stands unmoving in the backyard, while the narrator and someone called Travis have a brief exchange. The passage is 10 sentences long. Who is this ‘she’? Why is she standing in the rain and not caring for a brolly? If she hasn’t given up – as the narrator asserts – what is going on here?

This is Geelong-based Davis’s second novel – his first, Hovering (2022), won the 2020 Victorian Premier’s Unpublished Manuscript Award, and is now on my library list – and it fulfils the promise.

As the prologue suggests, the prose is economic and to the point, savvy, no words wasted. The first chapter is a series of vignettes that introduce the narrator Bren’s ecosystem – his mysteriously pointless job, the friends he meets at the pub, his relationship with Caelyn and their families. While the vignettes continue to feature, longer passages are introduced as the listless Bren and aimless Caelyn find something of a calling – a sense of purpose, even as the world is getting the wobbles.

As it turns out, as the blurb indicates so no spoiler here, there is a growing international movement of people turning into trees. For reasons little understood, they stand still in a spot and become at one with the planet, quite literally putting down roots. In investigating this phenomenon, Caelyn finds her direction, and Bren is pulled along in her wake.

This arborescence is contentious and challenging for the world, and in Davis’s hands becomes the entry point for topics such as the messiness of life (as opposed to the order of fictional narratives), climate change, and connections between people as well as between humanity and the natural world. For instance, says Caelyn to Bren,

(H)umans hoard and consume far more than we need just to make life slightly easier for ourselves. We will never give up anything, not really, unless we’re forced to…trees do not do this.

Those left behind by those who undergo the transformation face confusion, anger and guilt, trying not only to find a rationale for this change of being, but how to cope with a world where systems begin to break down due to population loss. Arborescence is not a simple solution, either to the stresses of modern life or the overheating of the planet – people die, directly and indirectly. As with any solution, there is a cost. Bren’s self-aware narration, leavened with dry humour and pithy observations, acknowledges this: even AI are left adrift.

There’s more, of course – Bren’s boyhood friend Miles and the comic they loved, for instance – but mostly it’s a beautiful story beautifully written about compassion and care, for each other and the planet that sustains us.

As for that ‘she’ in the backyard, well, we get to that in due course. Much like the book, it’s a moment of sadness and hope, and quite touching.

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – Etiquette for Lovers and Killers, by Anna Fitzgerald Healey

Title: Etiquette for Lovers and Killers

Author: Anna Fitzgerald Healey

Publisher: Fleet/Hachette; RRP: $34.99

Review by: Marian Chivers, July, 2025

This is Anna Fitzgerald Healy’s debut novel. Her writing has been featured in several literary magazines and short story anthologies. She grew up on the Maine coast (where this story is set). She now works in Los Angeles, living in a (possibly haunted) miniature castle in the Hollywood Hills.

The author writes in a letter to the reader at the beginning: “Set in my grandparents’ dilapidated Cape Cod-style house in the 60s, this story follows Billie through the woods and windswept islands of my childhood. Etiquette for Lovers and Killers is a novel like a tall, dark, nerdy stranger. A partner in crime for all the girls who couldn’t decide between the pulpy thriller or the rom-com in the bookstore. Because honestly, why can’t we have both?”

I wonder whether Anna has read much romantic suspense with period settings, Gothic thrillers like Victoria Holt’s immediately spring to mind and the like of Mary Stewart for later 20th century tales. This novel has strong elements of these with some nerdy 21st century ethos channelled into the 1960s setting. Each chapter starts with a piece of etiquette and Anna’s and Billie’s love of language is shown in the use of footnotes defining certain words and their histories. At first the footnotes annoyed (uncomfortable reminders of academic research and writing) but they started to grow on me as they showed aspects of Billie’s character and also hinted at happenings within the mystery.

Listen to an audiobook preview of Etiquette for Lovers and Killers

@ Google Play Books

Bille (Wilhelmena McCadie) is a 26-year-old virgin, qualified as an archival linguist trying to find a job but working as a seamstress in the small Maine town of Eastport in the early 1960s. She lives with her grandparents as her parents were killed in a car crash two years earlier. In the summer the tourists and the rich come to spend time in their “cottages”. Billie is bored – she’s surrounded by dull people – until an engagement ring and a cryptic love letter appear in her post box, addressed to “Gertrude”. She then meets rich, handsome Avery Webster, who owns a boat, as many of the rich characters do. Then the unsettling phone calls and visits from a man in a fedora begin. Events really start to heat up when she’s one of the last people to see Gertrude alive… and the first to see her dead.

There follows an intriguing mix of stalking, blackmail, champagne secrets and M&Ms (did you know they were first manufactured in the 1940s?). Everyone has a secret and as the body count rises and danger looms, Billie begins to suspect that she is more than a side character. Who killed Gertrude and the others? One killer or many? Just how innocent is the handsome, squeaky-clean Avery? The plot draws you in as the bodies and the suspects mount. It is written in a witty, erudite way and conveys the era well. The reader is left wondering just what Billie will accept in behaviour from this collection of characters, especially her love interest.

Marian Chivers has a lifelong interest in reading and writing with her work and study involving books from children’s literature to post graduate studies.

Review copy supplied by the publisher

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