PW Best Children's Novels of 2012

Publishers Weekly have just published their list of best children's books for 2012 here: click here

As it is an American site, there are some books I am not familiar with but a big yes to some of their other picks.

The Peculiar by Stefan Bachmann we got as a proof copy in my bookstore. It looks all kinds of weird and wonderful and that's what I love in children's writing - the absolutely innovative, written well with an emotional impact.

In a Glass Grimmly by Adam Gidwitz is a book I am not familiar with, but I LOVE the sound of it. Will be checking this one out.

Lies, Knives and Girls in Red Dresses by Ron Koertge - as you might be able to tell, I love anything fairytale-ish, whether it reworks them, takes an idea from them, or remodels them. This one sounds like a treat.

The Brides of Rollrock Island by Margo Lanagan - love that an Australian author can get into an American list of best books for 2012. The worlds Margo creates are breathtaking, as is her prose, and this book (Sea Hearts, as it is known in Aus) has been on my 'to read' list for ages.

Cinder by Marissa Meyer. A great premise, well told and interesting, with a paranormal romance element that doesn't make me groan.

Apart from these there are some great picks from authors by the likes of Libba Bray, Rebecca Stead and Sheila A Nielson, whose book Forbidden Sea I greatly enjoyed. Go check it out and then go check out some of these great stories - it's a great list.

The Wicked Wood (Tales from the Tower) Volume 2, Edited by Nan McNab & Isobelle Carmody

First published in 2011 by Allen & Unwin

I was very impressed with Volume 1 of Tales from the Tower (The Forbidden Eye), and so have been looking forward to Volume 2: The Wicked Wood ever since. The fairytales in Volume 2 are not as well known, and some are just folk-tales rather than classic fairytale re-imaginings. There is still the same creativity, mix of dark beauty/terror and great writing from Australian authors – but I didn’t find it as ‘bewitching’ an experience as Volume 1. I don’t know if the fantastic concept had just worn off a little, or if the stories just weren’t as good. Maybe a bit of both.

The six rewritten fairytales in this book are The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids; Cinderella; The Little Mermaid; and the remaining three from slightly more obscure folk tales, including one based on a story from one of favourite mythologies, the Irish Tir-na-nog. To be honest, across the two collections I liked the stories more when they were based on the well-known fairytales, just because these tales are so familiar that it’s so interesting to see how these authors interpret and update them.

I was so delighted to see Victor Kelleher in this collection, rewriting an Irish folktale, Birthing. Practically every library trip I took as a teen, I would hunt down any of his books, and he has written one of my all time fav YA novels, Parkland. When I was thirteen years old, I had never read anything like the worlds he created, and the emotion in these stories was so often spot on. Birthing was an engaging story, although not one of my favourites in the collection, and I only knew the original story because I have quite a fondness for British and Irish folklore, and this is kind of the quintessential faerie story. Kelleher sets up the scene and the concept with lots of intrigue and peril, and the final showdown is very satisfying, if a little short. But I just love seeing Kelleher in this collection, and if you have a chance to unearth any of his older YA books I think it will definitely be worth your while.

Catherine Bateson’s Learning the Tango (The Little Mermaid) and Maureen McCarthy’s The Ugly Sisters (Cinderella) are the stories that come closest to their classic fairytale counterparts. I loved Learning the Tango, and think it just fantastic and also awesome of the publishers that Bateson wrote her version in free verse. It takes a bit to get into the style, but once there, it is very accessible and some beautiful insights can be found from the prince, the Little Mermaid, and her sisters. It has all the lovely sadness of the original but with a nice, sparky ending. Some of the lines I underlined just because they were so gorgeous. Loved it. The Ugly Sisters was great to hear from the perspective of the two sisters, and the mother, but I found them as characters just really horrible and couldn’t warm to the story. Even Cinders started to bug me at the end, although McCarthy did have a few great moments where she subtly let the father figure show a bit of backbone. And there was some great menacing action by the black birds in the backyard. But ultimately I found the birds the most enjoyable characters, and their watchful presence over the household the most exciting thing that happened.

I couldn’t really warm to Nan McNab’s Glutted, also based on a slightly obscure folktale. It made me feel rather queasy, and the ‘love interest’ character I found repulsive – I guess that’s a sign of writing well done, though, if the story can invoke such strong emotions. And I did like the ‘mother’ character. The style of it reminded me a bit of Margo Lanagan’s ‘The Goosle’ – it has that same abject feel to it.

Kate Thompson’s Glamour did not quite fit comfortably into the book as a whole. It was well-written, and had a lovely reflective quality, but it was also distinctly adult in flavour and felt like a bit of an outsider. Actually on the whole the stories in Volume 2 have a much more adult feel than in Volume 1. Which is fine but I feel like the audiences for the two different volumes are slightly different.

Cate Kennedy’s Seventy-two Derwents (Wolf and the Seven Little Kids) was just lovely. This is the story that gets it most right emotion-wise, and is a great example of how such a short and simple fairytale can be re-imagined and picked apart and built upon to create a whole new emotive meaning. The central character is gorgeous – I couldn’t help but wish for anything but a happy ending for her, and the relationship she has with her sister is a great example of how a great writer can show complexity and love in such a small amount of words. I found it really clever how Kennedy transferred the story across into the contemporary world. Probably my favourite story in Volume 2.

Once again, was interesting to see how the authors had interpreted the original stories in the ‘Afterwords’. And, unlike the first Volume, I did not have a problem with overly sentimental happy endings – the endings for these stories were more of the bittersweet kind – another favourite of mine.

On the whole I think publishing the Tales from the Tower concept was a brilliant idea, and it was really fantastic to have that kind of calibre of Australian writers in one collection. Some of the stories were hit and miss, and I do wish that all the stories had been based on classic fairytales, as I think it would give the collection a greater sense of unity. But still wonderful. And absolutely gorgeously designed too.

The Wilful Eye (Tales from the Tower) Edited by Nan McNab & Isobelle Carmody

First published in 2011 by Allen & Unwin

I wanted this book from the moment I heard about it – the concept of it is just fantastic, it had some of my favourite Australian authors rewriting fairytales, and it was described as dark and lush and bewitching and sensuous. I couldn’t wait to read it. The Wilful Eye doesn’t disappoint.

The six rewritten fairytales in this book are The Tinderbox; Rumpelstiltskin; The Ice Queen; Beauty and the Beast; Babes in the Wood and The Steadfast Tin Soldier. There are six more to come in the next book – if they are as lovely and clever and provocative as these six, then readers are really in for a treat.

Some of the stories did work better than others. Some kept most of the original settings and twisted them around a bit, or added darker elements to them. Some were full on re-imaginings. Martine Murray’s One Window and Margaret Mahy’s Wolf Night were two that took the heart and basic plot of the original stories and crafted completely new worlds and characters out of them. I did not enjoy Mahy’s as much as the others – maybe it is because I am not as familiar and attached to Babes in the Wood as the other stories, but something just didn’t click into place for me with this one, and I thought references to the original were too self-referential. I think I also enjoyed her writing style the least; I felt it jumped over the place a little with a lot of background info included that seemed to have little to do with the story. Still, she manages to create some good atmosphere and a genuine fear for the characters in ‘the Woodlands’.

Murray’s One Window, based on The Steadfast Tin Solider, took a while to grow on me; in fact I didn’t really like it to begin with. But it ended up being my favourite. References to the original are so subtly and cleverly done and none of the original’s heart is lost. Such pithy insights into people and the way we see the world; and huge, complex bubbles of emotion so succinctly captured in a single sentence – this is what I enjoy about her novels and other works, and it is once again on display here. Murray has a real knack for capturing the human experience in a few words, especially the outsider’s experience, and by the end her retelling had thoroughly won me over.

Richard Harland’s Heart of the Beast (Beauty and the Beast) and Isobelle Carmody’s Moth’s Tale (Rumpelstiltskin) are the stories that stick the closest to their originals. I enjoyed Moth’s Tale up until the ending – I know it’s a fairytale, but I struggle when things end so neatly and everyone gets what they want. Actually, overall I was a bit iffy about the endings these stories had. I felt they were sometimes weak, letting down these fantastic stories that so far had packed such a brilliant, hefty punch. Sometimes it felt like the author knew they were nearing the end of the word limit and so hastily tied everything up; sometimes it was like they just lost interest in what the guts of the story had been about and the ideas petered out; and then sometimes it was just so typically ‘happily ever after’. And I know these are fairytales. They’re meant to end like that. I know. But when the subject material has been taken and twisted and sensualised and deepened, this kind of ending doesn’t quite sit right. That is my only complaint.

I loved Beauty’s taming of the Beast in Harland’s story. There is a real sense of menace and some beautiful writing as they bring out the best in each other. Beauty and the Beast is one of my favourite fairytales (my other is The Little Mermaid – to come in the next book) so I’m glad Harland’s update was very fine.

Rosie Borella’s Eternity (The Ice Queen) confused me at times – I think perhaps there was too much metaphor and meaning packed into it – but I still found it clever and the snow-dusted landscapes chillingly lovely. This story is infused with this sense of the underworld and the other, and it makes for compelling reading.

Margo Lanagan’s Catastrophic Disruption of the Head (The Tinderbox) was the story I was most looking forward to reading, and it has her usual beautiful, lilting prose, her darkness, her wonderful distorted sense of imagination. Her writing is like this wondrous, terrible wasteland, and stepping into the worlds she creates is always such a rewarding experience.

Points also for the Afterwords given by each author, explaining how and why they wrote the story. This was almost as interesting as the stories themselves.

So basically, The Wilful Eye is an awesome idea brilliantly executed. And it shines a welcome light on short stories, which I am always grateful for. Can’t wait for the next volume.

2010 AUREALIS AWARDS

The finalists have just been announced for the 2010 Aurealis Awards, which are awards - first established in 1995 - that celebrate the achievements of Australian science fiction, fantasy and horror writers. In the past few years there has been a growing list of different categories, including awards for best short story, YA and kids book, to all the better include Australia’s prolific output in the SF, fantasy and horror genres.

I Love these awards! Some of my fav authors have won or been finalists over the years, including Juliet Marillier, Victor Kelleher, Margo Lanagan, Isobelle Carmody and Sonya Hartnett. These were the books I devoured as a kid and of course still revisit even know, and what’s even better is that they are all Australian. These books can more than hold their own in the worldwide literary landscape! To quote from the website:

“This list of past winners and finalists is not only a great guide to a basic bookshelf selection of the best Australian works, it is also a useful survey of more than a decade's worth of signficant topics and themes, a who's who of the genre locally and the growth of the Australian publishing industry's commitment to the genre.”

Below are the finalists for the SF, fantasy, horror, YA and Children’s Fiction categories:

CHILDREN'S FICTION (told through words)

Grimsdon, Deborah Abela

Ranger's Apprentice #9: Halt's Peril, John Flanagan

The Vulture of Sommerset, Stephen M Giles

The Keepers, Lian Tanner

Haggis MacGregor and the Night of the Skull, Jen Storer & Gug Gordon

YOUNG ADULT Novel

Merrow, Ananda Braxton-Smith

Guardian of the Dead, Karen Healey

The Midnight Zoo, Sonya Hartnett

The Life of a Teenage Body--‐Snatcher, Doug MacLeod

Behemoth (Leviathan Trilogy Book Two), Scott Westerfeld

(I hope Merrow wins this one – I read it last year and thought it was amazing)

HORROR Novel

After the World: Gravesend, Jason Fischer

Death Most Definite, Trent Jamieson

Madigan Mine, Kirstyn McDermott

FANTASY Novel

The Silence of Medair, Andrea K Höst

Death Most Definite, Trent JamiesonStormlord Rising, Glenda Larke

Heart’s Blood, Juliet Marillier

Power and Majesty, Tansy Rayner Roberts

(my heart’s with Marillier on this one)

SCIENCE FICTION Novel

Song of Scarabaeous, Sara Creasy

Mirror Space, Marianne de Pierres

Transformation Space, Marianne de Pierres

More details at:

http://www.aurealisawards.com/

Black Juice, by Margo Lanagan

First published in 2004, by Allen & Unwin

Recently I picked up my old copy of Margo Lanagan’s Black Juice, which I vaguely remember once having to study either for school or uni. Black Juice is a collection of ten short stories, each one strangely compelling and sprinkled with her usual mix of mystery and beautiful despair. My favourites are ‘House of the Many’, ‘Yowlinin’ and ‘Singing my Sister Down’, but really, each of these ten stories is as intense and disturbing as the other. They are saved from being uncomfortably confronting by such tiny, sad reflections on human nature and the world, which sink their teeth into all the vulnerable parts of your mind and body you’ve been foolish enough to expose.

What I love about these stories is that they all pack a punch and are in your face; they drop you right into the centre of the action and leave you to flounder your way out along with the characters. The worlds the characters inhabit are alien and troubled and feel like a sort of faraway mimicry of the world we know. They are utterly fascinating, because Lanagan only ever hints at the details of how they came to be, dropping a few well placed objects and hints and allowing us brief flashes into what the characters think about these worlds. Everything seems off-kilter, slightly amiss, an impression of reality. Her stories are scary with what we don’t know about them, but because they all have the slightest trace of the familiar, they are still, in all their strangeness, a little too close to home.

What is real and recognizable about these stories is the human emotion, and more specifically the human despair, that is woven through them. The insights Lanagan gives us about who her characters are as human provides the perfect amount of tenderness and compassion to balance the fierce unforgiving landscapes. This is what we understand, and what strikes so close to home. That she can do this over and over, for each story, yet in completely original ways, is what makes Black Juice such a brilliantly realised piece of work.

The imagination and originality put into these stories is remarkable. Lanagan’s writing is beautiful, as I’m sure is countlessly mentioned – her prose is poetic and expressive without being heavy-handed. I think the word is effortless - her writing doesn’t try too hard but still knows exactly what it is doing. But the real magic is in how Lanagan builds up time and place and landscape and then, delicately, shows us the cracks. Black Juice is quite extraordinary, and a wonderful reading experience.

"Irini performed the final part for all of us: stepped forward, knelt on the pavement, and, holding her skirt decent in the wind, bent and kissed Grandma's forehead. It seemed only right - she was the one who knew Grandma best, these last days. It's the role of daughters to move ever away from their mothers ... and it's likely, isn't it, that someone will step in, and appreciate everything the daughters can't, being so busy pushing themselves out into the world, saying, No, no, I'm not you."