Month: January 2019

Book review: The Stonor Eagles, William Horwood

William Horwood was already a favourite, but this novel has elevated him once more in my eyes.

James MacAskill Stonor, the baby of his family, is the straw that broke the camel’s back in his parent’s unusual marriage. The Stonor Eagles follows Jim as he navigates life from an idyllic but unhappy childhood in Deal, Devon, to a complex adult life, explored through his work as an artist. His greatest achievement is the Eagle series, built on mythological stories of the endangered sea eagle, first told to him by his broken father, who carries guilt for the destruction of the last breeding pair on his home of Skye, and embellished on by the artist.

The three arcs–of the artist, the art, and the eagles–are tied tightly in an elegantly interwoven narrative. There are many places where you don’t see the parallels coming in each arc until they are upon you.

Horwood manages an exquisite damning of man and progress, of broken families and dreams, but leaves the reader on a note of hope. A gentle reminder that you can come home again.

The Stonor Eagles is literary in feel and scope, but the plight of the eagles strikes a deeply fantastic tone to the story. I would highly recommend this to anyone who cares about what we do to the planet, or enjoys a good redemption story. William Horwood was already a favourite, but this novel has elevated him once more in my eyes.

Goodreads reading challenge

I don’t normally measure the numbers of books I read in a year, though I do try to review those I do read written by my local community and friends.

This year I’ve decided to participate in the Goodreads Reading Challenge. I’ve set a modest (for me) challenge of 50, and I’m about 3 into that now.

I’m also going to try and post reviews for all of them but not going to hold myself to it, particularly for significantly older releases.

The challenge is a great way to encourage reading, and even better if you review. Hot tip: authors love it when you leave a review, regardless of how you felt about the book. It’s also a great way to pay forward that book you got on loan from a friend, or for minimal royalties from the library.

I’m curious: how many books to you read in a year? And what’s on your list for 2019?

Day on the Green: Florence and the Machine

Dusk’s multicoloured cloak enrobes the hills outside Geelong, softening the dry brown grass hills into something beautiful, a burgeoning moon rising of over the hill. This is when Florence and the Machine take the stage.

A wild will-o-the wisp trips across the stage, a heart and head of burning, fierce joy. Her gossamer wings and tail spinning and swirling across the stage in frenetic exultation.

She entreats us to dance and to love one another in the practiced cadence of a spoken word poet, something childlike in her voice. Ensnaring us in gothic magic, the age-old trappings of song.

The supplicant crowd moves, undulating, swaying, hands clasped and smiling, unrestrained in formless dance. A girl draped over her mother’s hip, bedecked in a flower crown, smiles beatifically at the crowd. Another rides high on her father’s shoulders, silhouetted against the bright stage lights. Babies tucked beneath arms, wrapped in blankets in their carriers, their mothers swaying as the babes slumber on.

As the last notes fade, last sunlight sunk beneath the weight of evening sky, we the crowd file out under soft fairy lights and the stars, carrying away picnic rugs and baskets, throats husky and hearts buoyant from those free moments in the half-dark where we could just embrace the unrestrained joy of being.

Wings

Good books: a power beyond measure

Late last year, when at a writing retreat, I picked up some second-hand books at a little bookshop cafe called Brunch Cafe. (Side note: a lovely place to stop in The Dandenongs, breathe in the books, browse with delight for your bookshelf and palate.)

My holiday plans included lofty ideas of reading them all, and I lugged them with me to every part of my meandering holiday.

Last week, I finally started on The Stonor Eagles by William Horwood. I’m a big fan of his Duncton Woods books, and I honestly cannot rave enough about the spectacular yet horrifying reflection they hold up to society and religion (think Animal Farm, but about trials of heretics across the history of Europe).

To my delight, I discovered a sweet little love note between the books pages, its writer and receiver forever a mystery.

The Stonor Eagles simultaneously reminds me why I want to be a writer and how far I have to go (Hi imposter. Thanks for stopping by; there’s the door!). With one page and one scene, Horwood riled my misanthropic heart with the merest description of the human desecration of the sea eagles of Skye.

How these symbols on the thinnest, pulped slice of a dead tree can transport you half way across the globe in an instant, have you weep for beings that exist only in the hearts and imaginations of the writer and readers.

This is what great writing does. And it’s a power beyond measure.

2018 Round-Up

This post will be short as I don’t feel like I achieved much, but I recognise the imposter’s rancid breath in my ear in this.

So, to acknowledge all the good in 2018, there was:

  • First professional sale and publication, thanks to Jeff Wheeler and the Deep Magic team
  • Publication of my oldest and most treasured story, Sleepers
  • Nomination by the publisher for the Pushcart Prize, a prize specifically for indie and small publishers and their work, again thanks to the Deep Magic team
  • Prioritising my writing for the first time in almost a decade, wherein I began learning to revise
  • Getting to attend two awesome writing retreats, where I had a marvellous time with good friends
  • My new local crit group who are awesome and helped me with one of my newest short works, now out on sub
  • Meeting so many wonderful writers at different community events and conferences
  • I’ve been tremendously lucky and acknowledge the sheer privilege of having the resources to prioritise my writing this year.

As for 2019, I want to continue to improve my craft through more writing, critiques and practice.

And read more. I really miss reading.

And time with the fluff. And the husband.

So, the wishes from me to you are for the time to dedicate to the pursuits you love, and more cuddles with furry loved ones.

That’s my 2019 plan after all.2018

Literal depiction of NYE at our house.