How to get your pukapuka (book) reviewed

We’re back in Level 1 (TOUCH WOOD) so I’m running an in-person workshop at the Island Bay Community Centre on Sunday 29 November from 2pm to 4:30 on how to get your pukapuka reviewed.

I am an experienced book reviewer and publicist in te ao pukapuka (the NZ publishing industry, book trade, literary circles & media). Come and learn how to get your pukapuka (book) reviewed!

In this practical workshop we will cover:
- the basic principles of working out where to pitch your pukapuka
- the details of how book reviewing works in NZ mainstream media (including an up-to-date contact list)
- how to approach journalists, editors and producers in a professional and effective manner

This workshop is suitable for kaituhi (authors) at all career stages, and for those doing or considering self-publishing. You don't have to have already written or published a pukapuka. No prior experience necessary. Paper handouts will be provided. Please bring something to take your own notes with. Register here.

ACCESSIBILITY INFO

- The venue is wheelchair accessible, including a mobility parking space and a wheelchair-accessible unisex toilet
- Large-print handouts are available upon request, please email me on books@elizabethheritage.co.nz
- NZ sign language translation is not available
- The room will be lit by daylight only and I will not be using a screen to present. Attendees are welcome to bring their own devices for note-taking purposes.
- I welcome people of all genders and body shapes/sizes
- The Community Centre provides tea- and coffee-making facilities. If you want non-dairy milk, please BYO.

If you have specific requirements not covered here, please contact me and I will do my very best to accommodate you.

Learn about my pricing kaupapa.

My pricing kaupapa

My aim is to make my workshops as accessible as possible while still earning myself a decent living. I've therefore created three pricing levels: waged, unwaged, and helping hand. The overall kaupapa is to chip in what you can.

If you are technically waged but struggling financially - especially if you've been hit in the wallet by the pandemic - please buy an unwaged ticket. And if $5 is too much right now, no worries, just drop me a line: books@elizabethheritage.co.nz

Conversely, if you’re technically unwaged (eg. retired) but are financially comfortable, I’d be really grateful if you would purchase either the waged or helping hand ticket.

The helping hand ticket is for people who can not only afford the waged ticket but also want to help subsidise those attendees purchasing an unwaged ticket.

If you'd like to help but can't manage that much extra, there's also an option for you to add a donation amount of your choosing.

Noho ora mai :-)

Book review: Auē

This review was commissioned by and printed in the New Zealand Herald in October 2019.

Ārama is eight years old. His parents have died, and his elder brother Taukiri has abandoned him. He is stuck living with his Aunty and her abusive partner on their farm.

Auē, Becky Manawatu’s first novel, is a difficult but rewarding read. It deals with the cycles of violence, poverty and addiction set against the traumatic intergenerational effects of colonialism and racism in Aotearoa. ‘Auē’ is a wail of distress. That might sound grim – and there certainly are many heartbreaking moments – but Manawatu (Ngāi Tahu) weaves threads of aroha throughout. 

 Auē is told in short chapters from different viewpoints, including Ārama’s and Taukiri’s in the present, and their parents’ in the past. Teenage Taukiri is running away, horrified that there is no one to stop him doing so: “The bottomlessness to my life was dizzying.” He stops wearing his bone carving and spends the money he earns busking on substances to numb the pain.

Ārama – Ari for short – is also grieving, seeking comfort from adults who are in too much pain to help him: “I was scared to go running out in the world when no one might notice because they were too busy keeping themselves from being sucked down the plughole”. Ari develops instead a touching faith in plasters. Whenever he misses his brother, he puts on another plaster.

Ari’s best friend is Beth (also eight). She too comes from a troubled background but, whereas Ari’s instinct is to try to heal, Beth leans into the violence. One of the first things we see her do is bash an injured baby rabbit to death. She makes Ari watch her favourite movie, Django Unchained, and they get into the habit of pretending to be characters from the film. The frequent references to this ultra-violent story of racially motivated revenge killing ramp up the tension.

Manawatu balances this with moments of joy and humour. A Pākehā woman in Ari’s rural district arranges for the school bus route to include Ari and Beth as a PR stunt to support her campaign for mayor. The kids spoil her white saviour photoshoot by pouring a cowpat down her back.

But what really kept me reading was the pull the characters have towards one another. Underneath the trauma and cultural alienation, Taukiri, Ari and their whānau are bound together. Maybe Ari’s plasters will work after all.

Orville's cultural legacy lives on in new pukapuka

I am thrilled to announce that I recently attended the launch of a new pukapuka that comprises the latest milestone in Orville the movie-star rat’s cultural legacy. From author AJ Fitzwater’s launch speech:

“The Cinrak stories all began with a rat called Orville covered in Marmite.

Orville became a bit of a celebrity after starring the The Hobbit movies. He performed admirably under the harsh lights and eye of Hollywood; New Zealand’s favourite breakfast spread his make-up of choice to keep him safe and amused when grooming.

In a light hearted moment barconning at Au Contraire in 2016, we all joked Orville should be the Rat Guest of Honour at the next year’s Lexicon. Trust us Kiwis to take a random joke as far it can go, and sure enough rats were on the programming in 2017. This included a short story competition – anything goes, so long as there’s a rat character ...”

“I often thought with that square jaw and a broad chest, a capybara looked like a really handsome butch lesbian, if that butch was a rodent.

And the pieces fell into place. Cinrak was born, and Orvillia became her rat queen girlfriend ...

There are people I need to thank for coming on this journey with me ...

Thanks to my queer fam all over the world, for listening to my brain farts and putting up with my flailing, sharing good times over food, sharing all the good books, the good advice – you help keep me together.

And to Orville and his tasty Marmite hobbity fur, though he has now crossed the ratty Rainbow bridge. Little do you know what you started. ”

Lockdown publishing courses

Kia ora koutou

Well these are strange times indeed e hoa mā. While we’re in Level 4 and 3 I’ve redesigned my publishing courses to be online only. I know it’s weirdly tiring to teach or learn via videoconference, so I’ve split my courses into manageable hour-long modules, all starting at 3pm.

Please register via Lil Regie at the links below. If the dates of the workshops you’re interested in are in the past, no worries! I will be running them again soon. Just drop me a line (books@elizabethheritage.co.nz) to register your interest and I’ll be in touch when I’ve rescheduled.

These workshops are aimed at early-career writers who want to learn more about the publishing process; self-publishers; and those considering self-publishing. Nau mai, haere mai!

Intro module - pitching to an agent/publisher

Goal setting (tbc)
Setting goals for what you want your pukapuka to do is a vital step that nearly everyone omits. We will work through all the different kinds of goals you might have, from sales/financial to cultural/emotional/posterity.

Writing a query letter (9 May) https://event-7420-b7e5.lilregie.com/
By popular demand! We will work through what should be in your query letter when you're pitching your pukapuka to a literary agent or publisher.

Writing a book proposal (6 May) https://book-proposal.lilregie.com/
This one is for the non-fiction writers. You'll usually need to submit a book proposal, either instead of or as well as a query letter.

Copyright module

Manatārua mō kaituhi / Copyright for authors (23 May) https://copyright-for-authors.lilregie.com/
Essential for all authors, both traditionally published and self-published. It is vital that you understand copyright before embarking on the publication process.

Managing copyright in a multi-contributor site during a pandemic (13 May) https://managing-copyright.lilregie.com/
The pandemic means that lots of projects that used to be in-person events, print pukapuka, or zines are hurriedly redesigning themselves as digital publications. This requires a new approach to copyright. Learn how here.

Editing and design module

Getting the most out of working with an editor (18 April) https://working-with-an-editor.lilregie.com/
Learn what exactly editing is and what you should be able to expect from your editor. A good editor-writer relationship can transform your pukapuka into its best possible self. Discover the do’s and don’ts here.

Managing pukapuka cover design (22 April) https://managing-cover-design.lilregie.com/
Pukapuka covers have their own special language and function in te ao pukapuka. In my opinion the old adage is dead wrong: if it’s been done well you absolutely should be able to judge a pukapuka by its cover. Learn how to manage the design process here.

Sales, marketing and publicity module

Researching target markets (8 April): https://book-marketing-tahi.lilregie.com/  
Before you begin marketing your pukapuka it’s vital to know who your readers are, where they hang out, and how they like to be told about new pukapuka — otherwise you’re just shouting into the void. Avoid the void!

Developing your hook and sales points (11 April): https://book-marketing-rua.lilregie.com/ 
These are fancy marketing terms for being able to effectively and persuasively tell your readers what your pukapuka is and what’s so great about it. Probably the most important part of marketing.

How to sell into bookshops and libraries (15 April): https://book-marketing-toru.lilregie.com/
If you want your pukapuka to be available for sale in bookshops and for readers to borrow from libraries, there are certain processes you need to follow and certain sales materials you’ll need to create. Learn how here.

Writing a media release (25 April) https://pukapuka-marketing-wha.lilregie.com/
If you’re doing your own pukapuka publicity then a strong, persuasive media release will be one of your most important tools. Learn how to write one here.

Pitching to journalists and other influencers (16 May) https://pitching-to-journos.lilregie.com/
Now that you’ve got your media release, it’s time to figure out who are the best people to send it to, how, and what to ask for.

Reviewing module

How book reviews work (20 May) https://how-book-reviews-work.lilregie.com/
By popular demand! This mini-workshop is to explore the world of book reviewing: what book reviews are, who writes them, how the money side of things works, and how to arrange for your pukapuka to be reviewed.

How to write a book review (2 June) https://event-7476-8893.lilregie.com/
We will work through what a book review is, what questions it should answer, how it should be structured, and what editors and readers are looking for.

How to become a book reviewer (4 June) https://event-7477-f628.lilregie.com/
I love book reviewing and have been doing it professionally for several years. In this workshop I’ll share guidance, resources and key contacts to help you get started - or, if you’ve already started, how to get paid.

Industry issues module

Deciding whether to pursue traditional publishing or self-publishing during a pandemic (28 April) https://trad-vs-selfpub.lilregie.com/
Even if you already had a handle on your publishing plans, now’s a good time to reassess. We’ll talk through the pros and cons of the different approaches and help you figure out what’s best for you.

I'll add more topics and workshops as we go. 

Source: Auckland Weekly News, 1911, via Auckland Libraries Heritage Collection

My pricing kaupapa

My aim is to make my workshops as accessible as possible while still earning myself a decent living. I've therefore created three pricing levels: waged, unwaged, and helping hand. The overall kaupapa is to chip in what you can.

If you are technically waged but struggling financially - especially if you've been hit in the wallet by the pandemic - please buy an unwaged ticket. And if $5 is too much right now, no worries, just drop me a line: books@elizabethheritage.co.nz

Conversely, if you’re technically unwaged (eg. retired) but are financially comfortable, I’d be really grateful if you would purchase either the waged or helping hand ticket.

The helping hand ticket is for people who can not only afford the waged ticket but also want to help subsidise those attendees purchasing an unwaged ticket.

If you'd like to help but can't manage that much extra, there's also an option for you to add a donation amount of your choosing.

I hope things are going well for you in your bubbles. Noho ora mai :-)

Feb 2020 workshops: getting published, copyright, and marketing

The intro to publishing course I ran in November 2019 went so well that I’ve decided to run a series of workshops in the new year. These workshops are aimed at unpublished and early-career authors, although anyone who would like a refresher is also welcome to join. Register here.

How to query literary agents and submit work to publishers

Saturday 15 February 2020, 3:45pm-5:45pm (with the option to stay on and network until 6:30pm), Island Bay Community Centre main hall. Register here.

In this practical workshop we will:
- demystify the jargon
- help you figure out the commercial strengths of your work
- go through the process of pitching to agents and publishers in detail
- do practical exercises to enable you to apply these principles to your specific situation

What copyright is and how to manage yours

Saturday 22 February 2020, 3:45pm-5:45pm (with the option to stay on and network until 6:30pm), Island Bay Community Centre main hall. Register here.

In this practical workshop we will:
- learn what copyright is
- gain a basic understanding of how the copyright situation has changed in the digital age
- learn what a copyright licence does
- understand the copyright relationship between authors and publishers

Marketing for authors - even authors who hate marketing

Saturday 29 February 2020, 3:45pm-5:45pm (with the option to stay on and network until 6:30pm), Island Bay Community Centre main hall. Register here.

In this practical workshop we will:
- demystify the jargon
- understand readers' and publishers' expectations of how authors will market themselves and their work
- help you figure out the most practical and sustainable way to meet these expectations given your specific situation and skillset

my pricing kaupapa and which ticket type to buy:

My aim is to make my workshops as accessible as possible while still earning myself a decent living. I've therefore created three pricing levels: waged ($50), unwaged ($5), and helping hand ($95).

If you are technically waged but really struggling financially, please buy an unwaged ticket. I strongly believe that New Zealand literature / te ao pukapuka benefits from hearing all our voices, not just the voices of those with a comfortable bank balance.

The helping hand ticket is for people who can not only afford the waged ticket but also want to help subsidise those attendees purchasing an unwaged ticket (which I anticipate will probably be between a third and half of attendees).

If you'd like to help but can't manage that much extra, there's also an option for you to add a donation amount of your choosing. Buy your tickets here. Ngā mihi nui ki a koutou.

Accessibility info:

• The venue is wheelchair accessible, including a mobility parking space and a wheelchair-accessible unisex toilet

• Large-print handouts are available upon request, please email me on books@elizabethheritage.co.nz

• NZ sign language translation is not available

• The room will be lit by daylight only and I will not be using a screen to present. Attendees are welcome to bring their own devices for note-taking purposes.

• I welcome people of all genders and body shapes/sizes

• Those with anxiety are welcome to sit or stand near the door and leave at any time

• If you have specific requirements not covered here, please contact me and I will do my very best to accommodate you

Learn how to get published

On Saturday 16 November 2019 I’ll be running a short intro course at Island Bay Community Centre, Wellington, on how to get your book published. The centre is located behind the pharmacy at 137, The Parade.

This is a taster course that will run from 2pm to 3:30pm and will cover an introduction to the basics: how to approach agents and publishers, what they are looking for, and what the process of getting published looks like.

The entry cost is $5 unwaged / $20 waged (cash only). All welcome. You don’t have to have written a book! Just bring something to take notes with.

Depending on interest, I plan on running a series of in-depth workshops that will go through the publication (or self-publication) process in detail; including contract negotiation, copyright licensing, editing, marketing, and pitching to journalists.

If there's a particular part of the publishing process you'd like to learn about, please let me know: books@elizabethheritage.co.nz

Accessibility info:

• The venue is wheelchair accessible, including a mobility parking space and a wheelchair-accessible unisex toilet

• NZ sign language translation is not available

• The room will be lit by daylight only and there will be no active screens

• I welcome people of all genders and body shapes/sizes

• Those with anxiety are welcome to sit or stand near the door and leave at any time

• If you have specific requirements not covered here, please contact me and I will do my very best to accommodate you

Photograph by James D. Richardson. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 4-7046. No known copyright restrictions.

Book review: The Sound of Breaking Glass

This review was commissioned by Fairfax in July 2019.

On one level, Kirsten Warner’s The Sound of Breaking Glass is about a first-time author trying to figure out whether she’s entitled to write a book. As with so many first novels, it’s deeply autobiographical and includes writing about writing: “The only stories I can think of writing involve me, which doesn’t count.” Usually this kind of hand-wringing navel-gazing would put me off, but The Sound of Breaking Glass is something special.

We meet the book’s protagonist, Christel, as she’s spraining her ankle while rushing to drop the kids off before getting the bus to her job in reality TV. Someone on the bus who no one else can see is jeering at her. “He’s like my own critical voice, always going blah blah blah. The Big Critic. The Big C.” It’s our first hint of the expansiveness of Christel’s inner life; of the ways in which the forces shaping her psyche are so huge and demand so much attention that they warp the world around her. Big C follows Christel everywhere, changing shape and size, shouting warnings and hissing insults.

It is clear that something has to give: “I feel like I might leak out of my skin.” The whatever-it-is that’s inside Christel is coming in between her and her ‘real’ life. She is only able to call those closest to her by their names; everyone else is relegated to a cartoonish nickname: Fat Controller, Celebrity Yoga Teacher, Doll-Maker, Car Couple.

The action of the novel is split between the 1990s and Christel’s childhood in 1970s Auckland. Christel’s father Conrad was a German Jew who survived the Holocaust and passed some of the wounds from that trauma on to his daughter in ways neither of them understand. Christel also has trauma of her own – readers should beware that The Sound of Breaking Glass contains scenes of rape. The pain Conrad and Christel both feel is compounded by their inability to share their suffering.

There is a deep sense of struggle throughout this book. Christel’s emotional pain and inherited trauma wrench themselves out of the depths of her subconscious and embody themselves in the ‘real’ world in order to demand that she address her psychological needs. At one point Christel builds a large male figure out of old milk bottles as part of a protest against the use of surplus plastic. He starts out as a sculpture that others can see but then becomes Milk Bottle Man; a surreal character like Big C who acts independently of Christel. He starts expressing Christel’s tectonic anger, tracking down a man who assaulted her and writing ‘RAPIST’ in red paint on his house. “Somehow I’m making it happen but I don’t know how.”

The Sound of Breaking Glass is a book I had to read slowly and in several stages. There is a pervasive sense of dread and danger throughout, and I came to understand that Christel’s various psychological manifestations are part of her self-defensive coping strategy. Her reality is awful, so she slightly removes herself from it. “There were hooks and eyes in the air around us, hidden zipper teeth I couldn’t see.” But the reality of being a second-generation Holocaust survivor cannot be eluded forever. “I’ll never be normal and I’ll never be free … if I could write I would write them all to death … None of the other kids had grandparents who were sent to the crematorium … it’s my job to remember, all my responsibility.”

iN 2019 The Sound of Breaking Glass deservedly won our national book award for best first book. Warner’s prose is lucid and assured, despite the repeated references in the text to feeling insecure about one’s writing ability. She manages the balance between realism and surrealism beautifully: it’s never entirely clear, for example, how much of Milk Bottle Man is ‘real’, but it doesn’t matter. There’s an essential, urgent truth at the heart of the book that supersedes such questions; and the point is well taken that the ongoing emotional toll of the Holocaust cannot be communicated without moving beyond the realm of the easily comprehensible. The Sound of Breaking Glass is an unsettling, warm, strange book, and I highly recommend it.

Talking book design on RNZ

I had a kōrero with Jesse about the upcoming NZ book design awards, and why I think book design is important in general. I also refer to myself - truthfully - as a book nerd.

Tweeting as @WeAreDisabled

I had a lot of fun running the @WeAreDisabled rocur Twitter account for a week. I definitely recommend signing up even if, like me, you are on the fence about whether you ‘technically’ qualify as disabled. Chronic illnesses definitely count!

Talking book disposal on RNZ

Yesterday I went on Jesse Mulligan’s radio show to give some ideas about what to do with books you’ve decided to give away. Well that was what I intended to do. I ended up calling Fifty Shades of Grey the tinned tomatoes of books and outing myself as having developed a terrible crush on The English Patient live on air to the whole country, but there you go.

Review: Guardian Māia

This review was commissioned and published by Stuff in April 2019.

Your name is Māia.

You are a kaitiaki, although you're not sure yet of what or whom. You are a skilled fighter and speak the language of birds. You are in the bush when you encounter mangā – ferocious humanoid monsters named after the barracouta fish they resemble. Do you draw your patu to fight the mangā ,or leg it back to the pā to warn the rest of your iwi?

Interactive fiction is a relatively new form of digital storytelling, like a cross between an e-book and a computer game. The reader (or player) makes a series of choices that affect the narrative outcomes and the development of the point-of-view character. Imagine those old pick-a-path books for kids, but published as an app, rather than in print.

Interactive fiction is often solely text-based, but Guardian Māia, the first such work to be set in te ao Māori, benefits from more video-gamey elements, as seen in the visual and sound design. Each page has illustrated borders that reflect Māia's current environment, drawing on recognisably Māori designs and each new chapter begins with a full-page illustration. I found the sounds of native birdsong and traditional Māori musical instruments particularly evocative.

As you play through the narrative, you learn that Māia's iwi in Fiordland are being terrorised by a taniwha named Moko who demands young wāhine as tribute. Gradually more of the world is revealed as you explore. The environment seems both familiar and strange: here are the wildlife and atua of Aotearoa, but something isn't right. The land seems… odd.

One of my pet peeves with interactive fiction is that you often can't go back and make different choices without completely restarting. Guardian Māia has an elegant in-world solution to this: if your choices end up with, for example, the mangā killing you, you can negotiate with Hine-nui-te-pō in the land of the dead to return to various previous points. If, like me, you were the kind of child who used to read through the whole pick-a-path book in order to reverse engineer the "correct" ending, this is extremely satisfying.

Guardian Māia is an excellent work of Māori speculative fiction. It is written in English with frequent use of Māori words. If you come across one you don't know, you can just tap on it and a definition will pop up. The narrative is engaging, and I found Moko genuinely frightening as the story's antagonist. The characterisation of Māia is up to you – her health and mana increase and decrease according to the choices you make. There are three possible endings.

Guardian Māia is the first episode of a larger, planned story from Metia Interactive, an Auckland studio that has won various awards including the United Nations World Summit Award for Cube. Episode one is free, and is up now on Google Play and the iTunes App Store. Guardian Māia is not one for the littlies, but I recommend it for teens and anyone old enough to remember pick-a-path books.

Talking about disabled NZ writers on RNZ

Just before my essay on disabled NZ writers was published, I went on RNZ Afternoons to talk about what I found out.

Talking summer reading on RNZ

Over the break I went onto Lynn Freeman’s Summer Times show to have a chat about summer reads, particularly what we think an ‘easy read’ is and how that might be sexist (spoiler: it’s definitely sexist).

Talking book reviewing on RNZ

Today Jesse Mulligan and I had a chat about book reviewing in Aotearoa — after getting slightly distracted by which TV show has the best theme song (clearly Jem and the Holograms).

Te Manu Rongonui o Te Tau - Bird of the Year 2018

Bird of the Year is a really important time in Aotearoa’s political calendar: someone has to hold these manu māori to account. That someone is me.

Book review: The Vanishing Act

This review was originally commissioned by the New Zealand Listener.

The Vanishing Act is a murder mystery set in 1960s Auckland. Glamorous Rosemary, who is gay, has been forced by homophobic parents to emigrate to Aotearoa. There she meets Rita, a lesbian who owns a brothel called The Gentlemen’s Club (also the title of Jen Shieff’s first book, for which The Vanishing Act is a standalone sequel). Soon a local doctor turns up dead, and scandalous intrigues ensue.

Initially The Vanishing Act feels like a bit of a mess. Several characters are introduced very quickly in very short chapters (sometimes only a page or so long), each of which is headed with a specific date. This requires the reader to flick back and forth to remind themselves who’s who and how the chronology fits together, which is annoying.

But it’s worth sticking around. Some of the characters are so unlikeable that seeing them get their comeuppance is deeply gratifying. The murder victim, George, is a villainous sex pest, and practically anyone could have killed him. The Vanishing Act will be enjoyed by lovers of the Yeah Noir genre (Kiwi crime), particularly those who are weary of the tropes of the troubled white male detective as the protagonist, and an abused woman as the murder victim.

Another strength of The Vanishing Act is as a work of historical fiction. Shieff has really done her research, and the novel wears this hard work lightly, making the setting seem natural rather than laboured. Shieff handles the mystery well and, although the resolution is a bit of stretch, it does keep the reader guessing. Once you get a handle on who’s who, The Vanishing Act is an entertaining read.

Professional rat art

Robot Hugs is one of my favourite web comic artists. One day on Twitter they offered to draw some sketches of people’s pets, so I sent in a photo of my pet rat Valentina and they drew me this. I LOVE IT.

Valentina, by Robot Hugs. CC BY-NC 4.0

Book review: The New Ships

This review was originally published in The Reader in July 2018.

This book is just superb. Kate Duignan’s The New Ships is a novel set mostly in Wellington about Peter Collie, whose wife Moira has just died, and his relationship with their son Aaron. Aaron is biologically Moira’s but not Peter’s, although the two of them have raised him since birth. A lot of the book is told in flashback, and we learn that Peter’s daughter from a previous relationship may or may not have died as a toddler. Part of the reason we don’t know is because Peter has chosen not to investigate. It’s a pretty huge thing to be uncertain about.

There are a lot of huge uncertainties in this novel, and I suspect it’s not a coincidence that the ‘present’ of the book is set in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. Peter and Moira are white but Aaron’s unknown birth father was a man of colour, and Aaron’s ethnic identity is another source of uncertainty that troubles Peter. Moira says he was conceived in Australia – might he be Aboriginal? As a child Aaron befriends some Māori and Pasifika kids and declares his ‘real’ dad is Rarotongan. When Aaron boards a plane for London after Moira’s funeral but doesn’t arrive there, Peter starts to panic. Airport security and Islamophobia are peaking, and Aaron is ethnically ambiguous enough to be mistaken for an Arab and labelled a terrorist.

One of the things I really like about The New Ships is that it’s easy to read and also full: of ideas, of story layers, of exceptional writing. Here are a few sentences that I particularly loved: when describing a sailor Peter admires: ‘I’d trust this man to put down a dog I was fond of.’ At the tail end of a family holiday when Peter just wants to go home: ‘I was sick of … sitting like a damp, agitated ghoul at my wife’s side.’ When Peter is facing his first Christmas after Moira’s death: ‘It’s intolerable, summer ahead, all the days fat with beauty, useless.’

Peter is a flawed protagonist. We are in his head the whole way through the book so our sympathies naturally flow towards him, but there’s no denying he’s done some pretty dodgy stuff. Why doesn’t he lift a finger to find out for sure whether his daughter is alive or dead? There’s also a very uncomfortable narrative thread wherein Peter, who is middle-aged and a partner at his law firm, sifts onto a young, attractive female intern while trying to convince himself that he’s “helping” her. I found his behaviour distressing, especially in light of the real-life stories about the way female law interns are treated here.

Duignan resolves some of the uncertainties in The New Ships but not all of them, giving the reader a pleasing sense of narrative satisfaction without anything feeling pat or contrived. I highly recommend The New Ships to lovers of NZ fiction and of good books in general.

Review by Elizabeth Heritage

The New Ships
by Kate Duignan
Published by VUP
ISBN 9781776561889