All That I Wish…

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Again, it’s been long enough since my last post to warrant another one. Life has trundled into the way again–mainly work, and associated trivialities.

I wanted to report this morning, really as a continuation of my previous post, that I probably won’t finish reading All That I Am. I can’t, in all honesty, remember the last time I opened it now; if nothing else, then, the book has hardly drawn me in. I think, fundamentally, it’s unnecessarily complicated. It is well written–the language, and Funder’s voice, is lovely–but ultimately I think she’s tripped over her own structure. Part of me wants to sneer that she’s showing off, but that’s not quite the problem–I think I’ve been kept out, somehow, by the assembly of her component parts.

I’ll leave my bookmark where it is, though: you never know.

I also admit to being distracted. I read Matthew Condon’s Three Crooked Kings over Easter and enjoyed it–I look forward to the sequel, All Fall Down, due later this year. These books are a foray into non-fiction for Condon; his novel The Pillow Fight is a sensational, brutal, clever novel (which details a harrowing relationship marked by domestic violence in which the violent party is the woman). There are other novels, which I am yet to catch up with.

On my list is How to be a Good Wife by Emma Chapman and to finish reading The Genesis Flaw by LA Larkin and Redback by Lindy Cameron. I started these two for a panel I chaired at the recent Writers Festival, Shock of the Now, in Hobart.

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