Run By Ann Patchett
Coffee and books – it’s a match made in heaven, right?
I recently treated myself to some shiny new books from New Norfolk’s gorgeous Black Swan Bookshop in Tasmania’s beautiful Derwent Valley. The valley is awash with autumn’s characteristic red and gold, and a coffee and a some books was just the way to celebrate nature’s majesty. (But then again, I “celebrate” with coffee and new books pretty much every week…)
One of my purchases was Run by the incomparable Ann Patchett. Like its title, Run is a short but powerful read, about family and fate.
Our story begins during a wild snowstorm. A former mayor and his two privileged adult sons are leaving a public lecture when a woman (seemingly a stranger) pushes one of them out of the path of a car. She’s hit instead, and gravely injured, while her young daughter watches in horror. What follows is a gripping tale, as emotional as it is compelling.
Run is about the love and devotion we show our families, blood or chosen. It’s also about faith – whether that’s the belief in a higher power, or simply hoping our life choices, when we make them, are the right ones.
Anything Patchett turns her hand to is fantastic and Run is no exception. Her prose is elegant and understated, carrying the reader along on a breathless journey that’s short in length but deep in emotion. There is something so special about the fable-like nature of this story – I kept thinking about it for days.
Do yourself a favour and pick up Run (or anything by Ann Patchett). Don’t forget the coffee!
Three Women by Lisa Taddeo
As soon as I read Lisa Taddeo’s literary shot of tequila Animal, I feverishly searched for her book Three Women and bought it ASAP.
Beguiling and detailed, Three Women explores the complicated desires and sex lives of (you guessed it!) three real women.
This non-fiction book is a deep dive into what it means to be a “modern woman”; the constant eluding of stereotypical labels and narratives, at the same time wondering which (if any) might apply to yourself.
Taddeo tells the stories of a young woman fighting for justice after abuse she experienced as a minor, a woman whose husband wants nothing more than for her to cheat on him, and a third woman who has an affair with a man from her past that quickly turns sour.
Taddeo conducted hours of interviews to tell these women’s stories, and they are nuanced and fascinating. She’s not simply giving the details of their lives, she’s delving into how complicated it is to be a woman, situating her interviewees’ experiences within the broader scope of society’s treatment of women – particularly how female sexuality is frequently framed as something unsettling and uncontrollable.
Taddeo reminds me of another incredible writer, Curtis Sittenfeld, for her ability to write flawlessly about our inner worlds without sounding like she’s simply listing thoughts. (Ian McEwan is also a boss at this.)
Head to your nearest book emporium and get “Three Women”. (And literally anything by Curtis Sittenfeld and Ian McEwan.) It’s a compelling and valuable reading experience.
DEARLY BY MARGARET ATWOOD
Do you guys read poetry?
It’s embarrassing to admit but I tend to avoid poetry because it makes me kind of… emotional.
The concentration of language, the beauty of the words, and the brevity of poetry all work together to turn me into a teary mess.
And sure enough, when I read Margaret Atwood’s Dearly, published after the death of her husband Graeme, I was in tears in a coffee shop.
Anyone who knows me knows I really love Atwood. Her fiction is incredible, and unsurprisingly, her poetry is just as outstanding.
Dearest is a gorgeous collection of work on loss and memory, with a few weird touches. (Classic Atwood.)
Some of these poems are acerbic and direct, tinged with Atwood’s characteristic dark humour. Others have a playful, nostalgic tinge. Mostly, they are sad.
Invisible Man is a short poem, a vignette of loss about the emptiness left after the passing of her husband. She writes about “The shape of an absence” and how “You’ll be here but not here… muscle memory”.
Dearly is a beautiful and varied anthology. Even the cover design and the quality of the paper are lovely, making this a really special reading experience. Even if poetry makes you cry, give it a shot – you can always dry your eyes on a napkin like I did.
Bunny By Mona Awad
It’s almost Easter, so it’s the perfect time to sit down and read Mona Awad’s Bunny!
I was instantly taken with this book. From the hot pink cover art, to the rave review from Margaret Atwood, to the delicious weirdness of the plot description… I was desperate to read it, and bought it as soon as I could.
Bunny is about a young student named Samantha attending a prestigious university writing program. Samantha is simultaneously irritated and unnerved by a group of prim, strange, women in her class. They all refer to each other as “bunny”, and she thinks they’re completely vacuous, mentally naming them things like “Creepy Doll”.
But after Samantha attends one of the bunnies’ weird writing parties, she finds herself drawn into the oddly cult-like friendship circle, which is far, far stranger than she was expecting.
Bunny cleverly skewers the pomposity of higher education and the hollowness of popularity. It’s like a delectable macaron with a shockingly dark centre.
I loved this book because of how playful the plot is. I think there’s a real bravery in writing a story so unashamedly odd. It’s absolutely right up my alley.
Have a beautiful Easter, everyone!
The Fact Of The Body By Alex Marzano-Lesnevich
Alex Marzano-Lesnevich’s elegant prose in their book The Fact of The Body skillfully combines two completely different life stories that share one horrifying similarity.
Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer
In “Annihilation” by Jeff VanderMeer there’s a mysterious “shimmer” settling over the land, and explorers are going into it… but they aren’t coming out.
The Age of Magic by Ben Okri
The Age of Magic by Ben Okri isn’t a book you simply read. It’s one you experience. Luminous, haunting, and utterly hypnotic, it lingers long after you turn the last page.
Klara And The Sun By Kazuo Ishiguro
AI bots are getting writing jobs. Cars don’t need drivers anymore. And our phones eerily seem to know what we’re thinking…
Maybe robots will be taking over soon – but this book made me think that might actually be a good thing.
In Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2021 novel Klara and the Sun, AFs (Artificial Friends) wait patiently in dingy shops to be selected as companions for socially inept young people.
AF Klara is selected to live with the chronically ill Josie and her mum in a remote country estate. Programmed to be the best friend she can, Klara takes her role as Josie’s companion very seriously. For Josie’s parents, Klara might be called upon to fulfil an even more vital role in their family.
Ishiguro’s prose is elegant and unhurried, which I expected from his storytelling. But what surprised me was the gut-punch of emotion this book delivered in its conclusion. I thought about the ending for days.
Klara is a robot, yes – but her devotion to her young friend is so touching. The real question this book asks is whether love and humanity can be manufactured. Klara is wired to love Josie, but so are Josie’s parents. Does that make Klara’s devotion any less real?
If you do read and enjoy this lovely novel, be sure to check out Ishiguro’s stunning Never Let Me Go which touches on similar themes.
Candy Girl by Diablo Cody
Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper by Diablo Cody is my instant recommendation if someone wants a funny book.
Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld
Any time I see a copy of Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld, I have this strong compulsion to buy it. Even though I already own it. Because this book is just that good.
Monstor Love By Carol Topolski
This week’s Weekend Read is Monster Love by Carol Topolski where a man and a woman meet, fall in love, and get married.
How to Murder Your Life By Cat Marnell
The provocatively titled How to Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell is so devastatingly entertaining I never wanted it to end.
Infinite Splendours By Sofie Laguna
Oh, Sofie Laguna. Why would you leave my heart trampled on the ground like this? Laguna’s stunning novel Infinite Splendours is very, very sad.
Fauna by Donna Mazza
Donna Mazza’s Fauna (another excellent secondhand find!) is about a regular Australian family with a very unusual pregnancy.
The Blondes by Emily Schultz
If there’s one thing I love, it’s a book other people would describe as WEIRD. I love a subversive story, an unusual plot, and if it’s written by a woman about societal beauty standards? Even better.
I picked up The Blondes by Emily Schultz second hand, and I’m so glad I grabbed it. I read it in two days, and I couldn’t stop telling people about the story.
It’s about Hazel Hayes, a postgrad candidate navigating an awkward affair with her professor that gets even more problematic when women – notably blondes – start having violent public outbursts.
Hazel, whose research looks at the depictions of women in advertising, gets caught in the midst of one of these events, and before she knows it, a full-blown pandemic is underway. Women with blonde hair, whether it’s natural or not, are regarded with intense suspicion. It’s not long before women are being tracked down, imprisoned, and forced to shave their heads and submit to humiliating tests to see if they carry the mysterious virus.
This book is like a cool glass of water on a humid day– it’s just so refreshing. It has a great plot that moves along quickly, and the genuine creepiness of the story is undercut with hilariously black observations about how society treats “dangerous” women. It makes you think about how insane western beauty standards really are.
The Blondes, is savage, funny, and thought-provoking.
I’m betting there’s a movie adaptation for this one coming, and I’ll be first in line at the cinemas.
Holly By Stephen King
Stephen King fascinates me for a lot of reasons. His endless well of ideas. His prolific rate of publication. And the fact that as a famed horror writer, I think his best writing is outside that genre.
Different Seasons, a collection of novellas, each representing a different season, is one of my all-time favourite books. Few people have heard of it, but most have heard of the non-supernatural films that arose from it: Stand by Me, The Shawshank Redemption, and Apt Pupil. The story of Stand by Me (titled The Body in Different Seasons) shows a side of King few would recognise. The writing is sensitive and tender, an account of an acutely painful coming of age. I strongly recommended checking it out.
This week’s read, Holly, is one of King’s crime novels. (No otherworldly ghouls or monsters – just the human variety.) It’s about Holly Gibney, an unlikely investigator (she hates being called detective) who appears in multiple King novels. In this one, it’s the midst of Covid and she is called upon to investigate the disappearance of Bonnie Dahl, who vanishes, leaving behind her bicycle with a note saying “I’ve had enough” on the seat.
As the case unfolds, Holly realises a slew of disappearances could all be connected to one serial predator – or is it more than one?
This is one of those books where you actually know from the beginning who the killer is. The story is split between the culprit and Holly, the chapters gradually growing shorter as the two sides of the story get closer to collision.
The plot surges forward in just the right way. Holly is a perfect hard-boiled detective for the modern age – quirky, flawed, haunted by dreams of her suffocating mother, and uniquely equipped to save the day. I was always annoyed when I had to close this book and get on with real life.
I’ll definitely be checking out King’s other books featuring Holly, investigator, not detective.
Tom Lake By Ann Patchett
Me last year: “All I want for Christmas is … Ann Patchett’s Tom Lake.”
I am a massive Patchett fan. Her novels State of Wonder (about a mysterious research project deep in the Amazon) and Commonwealth (a family saga) are particularly incredible.
Tom Lake has a simple premise. Cherry farmer, wife, and mother, Lara, is bowing to pressure from her three grown daughters to tell them the story of Peter Duke – a bona fide movie star whom Lara, a one-time actor, once dated. Thrown together by the pandemic, the daughters and their parents are picking cherries all day on the family farm, and Lara is relishing the closeness. What she’s not enjoying as much is the trip down memory lane to her short-lived acting career and her intense love affair with Duke.
Like most Patchett novels, the significance of the story lies more in what’s not said, playing out in the natural beauty of the characters’ surroundings and the gentle but effective metaphors. Patchett has such a knack for subtle writing – her prose is effortless: dreamy but with searing emotional intensity.
Tom Lake is a nostalgia-drenched dream about all kinds of love, what we see as success, and the secrets we keep. The word that came to my mind when I closed 2025’s first fiction read was this: gorgeous.
All I Ever Wanted Was to be Hot By Lucinda Price
Trigger warning: This review contains mentions of eating disorders and mental illness. If you would prefer not to read about these topics, please scroll on. Take care of you.
Our society places ridiculous pressure on women and girls to look a certain way.
And at this time of year, the bonkers voice of diet culture is LOUD. You’ve probably seen the following nonsense on your screens: “New year, new you! Summer bikini body! Try a cleanse!”
This week’s read is a valuable antidote to this harmful and hollow dribble.
With a title like All I Ever Wanted Was to be Hot, and a fluro yellow cover with hot pink lettering, Lucinda Price’s memoir looks like candy and sounds like a war cry. I knew I had to check it out.
Price is a trailblazing vlogger and blogger, known for creating viral content at the forefront of social media marketing’s infancy in Australia. From a young age, she knew she wanted to be in the public eye – and that she wanted to be HOT. From straightening and dyeing her naturally brown curly hair as a kid, to a high school nose job, to a breast job in her 20s, Price spent her youth believing that being as “hot” as possible was the key to success.
And for a while, everything was going great. Until she realised she was in the grips of an eating disorder and her health – mental and physical – was suffering terribly.
Now in recovery, Price has used her personal journey to explore our culture’s problematic beauty standards. Price’s sincerity, whether she’s interrogating interviewees (including her mother) about body image, or detailing her cosmetic surgeries, means her book is never preachy – you feel like you’re chatting with a friend.
Body image and mental illness are very serious topics, and Price absolutely does them justice. But at the same time, her story is full of humour and heart. This is an important read that is as entertaining as it is empathetic. I read it rapidly, and I hope many people, particularly women and girls, will find this book as insightful as I did.
Too Close to the Falls by Catherine Gildiner
Do you have a book that you spend your life recommending to people? For me that book is Too Close to the Falls by Catherine Gildiner. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve hyped up this memoir.
The thing is, this book doesn’t even look like it’s my vibe – its sepia cover presents like a tame story about an ordinary person. And that’s not what this book is like at all. (What they say is true – you can’t judge a book by its cover.)
Our heroine, Cathy McClure, is an extraordinary girl growing up in a very conventional time and place – Lewiston, a town near Niagara Falls, in the 1950s.
Diagnosed as having an overactive “metronome” (what we would now call ADHD), the family doctor declares the solution to keep young Cathy calm is a job in her dad’s pharmacy – at four years old.
Whether she’s dispensing sleeping pills to Marilyn Monroe (in town to film “Niagara”), losing part of her ear while stuck in a deadly snowstorm (never scratch frostbite!), or causing complete havoc at her conservative Catholic school (stabbing her bully), Cathy is an incredibly endearing character.
Gildiner’s storytelling is like listening to someone fascinating at a dinner party who tells the best stories – you just want to hear more from her. Her writing is unpretentious and conversational, and the scenarios she tells are just so funny.
I particularly love Cathy’s stories about her mother, an amateur historian who refuses to cook (like, ever) and whose reaction to visitors is to yell “Hit the deck!” at which the entire family lies on the floor and pretends not to be home, so they don’t have to receive guests.
The best thing about this book is that Cathy’s story continues, with two more books that follow her up to her college days. So once you finish Too Close to the Calls, you can reach for After the Falls, and then Coming Ashore. And rest assured, Cathy’s life is never boring.
Amaryllis Night and Day by Russell Hoban
What would you do if you kept dreaming about a woman urging you to board a bus made of rice paper? And then one day (in real life) she walked up to you in a museum and asked why you wouldn’t get on the bus?
Amaryllis Night and Day by Russell Hoban is a love story that takes place mostly in the subconscious. It’s the story of artist Peter and the mysterious Amaryllis, who finds him in a dream – and then teaches him how to “glim”, a kind of lucid dreaming that forms most of their courtship.
This is a playful and unusual story. It’s a short book, but it’s packed with insightful and funny metaphors. Disoriented after he begins having odd dreams, Peter is beset by “the feeling you get when you reach for something on the top shelf of a cupboard and everything falls on your head.” Before his life is enriched with Amaryllis, he sees empty buses and thinks them “Coachloads of emptiness (that) waited for their children to return”, foreshadowing his eventual dreamland coach adventures with his future love.
This whimsical book is a weird but charming love story, and I really liked how unserious it was – and at 176 pages it can easily be demolished in a weekend.
The Tall Man: Death and Life on Palm Island By Chloe Hooper
Chloe Hooper is one of those writers who only produces solid gold. Fiction, true crime, memoir – she does it all.
I first came across her when I read her excellent novel The Engagement, a mind-bending modern fairytale of a date gone wrong (or right – it’s hard to tell.)
The Tall Man: Death and Life on Palm Island follows the court case of Cameron Doomadgee, an Indigenous man who died in police custody on Palm Island.
This book shows us the past is never really that far away. It’s an examination of justice, the complexities of race in Australia, and the multi-generational trauma experienced by many Indigenous Australians. Hooper delves into the horrors of colonisation to help examine the tragedies of today.
Hooper is truly journalistic in the balanced and detailed way she tells this complex story. But her own personal observations, when they do surface, are invaluable, lending heart and perspective to a deeply sad and difficult story.
Her writing is skilled and nuanced, weaving together Indigenous history and culture with contemporary law and society.
This year marks 10 years since the death of Doomadgee. If you haven’t heard his story, Hooper’s book is an excellent place to start.
The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead
“Even in death the boys were trouble.”
Some books are propelled forward by an incredible story. Others are notable for beautiful writing. If you’re lucky, you find a book that has both, like this one. The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead (winner of the 2020 Pulitzer Prize in Fiction) has been on my “To read” list for a while, so when I spied it secondhand, I grabbed it instantly.
It’s the story of the intelligent and sensitive Elwood Curtis, a young black boy growing up in turbulent times – 1960s Florida. With his sights set firmly on a future studying the classics in college, Elwood isn’t a boy who goes looking for trouble – until trouble finds him. He is hauled away to the Nickel Academy, a horrendous “reform school” where black and white children are segregated, and the punishments range from the awful to the unthinkable.
This book grabs you and won’t let go. Whitehead’s elegant prose simmers with outrage as the reader witnesses the outrageous cruelty the “Nickel boys” are subjected to, suffering under a “pitiless constellation of negligence” and Elwood is irrevocably changed by his imprisonment.
This isn’t an uplifting book and nor should it be – but among the terrible brutality the characters experience, there are rays of hope – friendship and immense courage shine through. It’s a compelling story and one I kept thinking about long after the final page
When I Forgot by Elina Hirvonen
This short read is an emotional punch to the gut, but it’s also very beautiful.
When I Forgot by Elina Hirvonen is about Anna, whose parents are urging her to visit her brother Joona in hospital. Struggling to work up the courage, Anna retreats to a cafe where her thoughts drift from the present to a past mired in sadness and confusion.
Anna’s relationship with her brother is burdened by enormous guilt. She loves him deeply but struggles to reconcile their unmistakable bond with his extremely unsettling behaviour. Anna’s memories of their life together are interspersed with her boyfriend’s reminiscences of his own traumatic coming of age.
When I Forgot is densely packed with insights about familial and romantic love. For a slim novel, it’s very deep. It’s really about the difficulties of accepting people who can be hugely damaging to those around them.
It might sound bleak, but this story is ultimately hopeful. Hirvonen’s writing style is sparse yet elegant – she’s so good at describing Anna’s point of view that you feel like you’re seeing through her eyes. It’s well worth a read.
The Patron Saint of Liars by Ann Patchett
It’s a glorious feeling when you realise…
A. Ann Patchett exists!
B. You can safely pick up any book with “Ann Patchett” printed on the cover knowing it’s going to be a great read.
My mum loaned me The Patron Saint of Liars, Patchett’s first published novel. And appropriately, it’s a book about what motherhood means for different people: Those having babies, those giving them away, and those who mother people who aren’t their children.
We follow the mysterious young Rose, who leaves her husband and beloved mother in the 1960s to travel to a remote home for unwed mothers – despite being married. As her journey progresses, we get to know Rose’s (new) husband’s tragic backstory, and eventually meet her daughter Cecilia.
Patchett’s writing is unhurried, deep, and emotional – never fussy or maudlin. She’s a literary writer who is also incredibly readable. This book is about the experiences that shape us as people, and how difficult it can be to ever truly know another person, despite how much you love them.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
You’ve probably heard of The Road.
It not only snagged the 2007 Pulitzer Prize for fiction, it was adapted into a fantastic movie. It also regularly appears on lists of most disturbing books.
Personally, I love unsettling books (that’s just me) but don’t let that description put you off. The Road is gloriously readable, thrilling, and moving. Cormac McCarthy’s prose is staccato, boldly quotation mark-less, and gorgeous – it’s like poetry carved into granite.
The Road follows the journey of an unnamed father and son, making their way through the treacherous landscape of a world blackened by an unspeakable disaster. In true McCarthy style, he only tells us what we need to know – our imagination does the rest.
The Road really asks, in an environment of unspeakable horror, where hope is all but extinguished, can love really endure? This book is ultimately a story about the sacrifices we make for the people we truly love.
Yes, it’s bleak. Yes, it’s disturbing. But it’s also gorgeously written, incredibly worthy, and ultimately uplifting. This read is also a great introduction to the work of a truly masterful writer.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
Halloween is officially here, and this weekend’s read has it all. Haunted house? Check. Witchcraft? Check. Mysterious family secrets? Double check!
We Have Always Lived in the Castle (epic title) comes to us from the Queen of Horror herself, the legendary Shirley Jackson.
Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper – Case Closed By Patricia Cornwell
We’re well into October and what better way to get in the spooky spirit than with a creepy read?
Currently I’m devouring Patricia Cornwell’s Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper – Case Closed, because what’s scarier than an unsolved crime?
Cornwell’s CERTAIN she’s found the true identity of the Ripper and her book outlines exactly why she’s pointing the finger at a respected artist and actor.
The best thing about this book is how it draws you into the murky, smokey 1800s Whitechapel – the details of daily life in this time are just as fascinating as Cornwell’s killer-catching thesis.
Beware – it’s not for the faint of heart. But if you love true crime with a touch of historical whimsy, this could be the right read for a cosy candlelit weekend read.
The TAO of Coaching by Max Landsberg
Max Landsberg offers a refreshingly practical guide for those of us who could use a bit of structure in talking ourselves off the ledge and onto the path of progress. It’s not about grand revelations, but about nudging yourself toward clearer thinking, better decisions, and the occasional self-high-five for a job well done.