...like water

"Thought you liked it here?"
"I do. That's never been a good enough reason to stay in one spot. I don't have that luxury."
"You'll always be on the move, won't you?"
He paused, couldn't answer. She stayed looking at him, waiting.
"Yeah, always will. Home. Away from home. Back home again."
"Home doesn't feel that safe to me anymore."
"Home isn't safe," he said. "Just it's home, the place that knows you. You know it."
She took in his wisdom and thought on it, rolled it round, walked on a little. A breeze had come up, rustling some leaves, stroking the sand. The silence they walked in flowed like a river.

I've just finished reading Love like Water by Meme McDonald, and it's been amazing. Incredibly raw, honest and gritty, yet endearingly poetic and sensitive, there's a lot about this novel that's struck a chord with me. This story is centred around a number of lost souls, who have found themselves in Alice Springs. Some escape the past, some are searching for a future, some yearn for belonging, and some just want to survive. As somebody who has left Melbourne behind, and currently live in Darwin, there was so much that I could relate to, and, to be honest, this book has helped me reach more of an understanding of aspects of living here that has eluded me. Books are awesome like that.

It's also been shortlisted for the Children's Book Council book of the year for older readers. However, don't let the shiny sticker put you off. I'd consider this to be more of an adult novel that I'd recommend to bright teenagers.

In other news, on Friday evening, I went along to the launch of Barry Jonsberg's latest book, Ironbark. It was a lovely affair, well attended by the usual suspects, and Barry relayed the story of the long, painful process of writing and re-writing this book, originally called "The girl in the window", over the past two and a half years, to the point where there was no longer a girl nor a window.

My copy is now sitting on the steadily-shrinking pile of books next to my bed.