Every now and then, I have a thought that goes something like this:
“I’m an English teacher. I really should be more familiar with the classics. I’m such a fraud, having never read Tolstoy.”

Every fourth or fifth book on my bookshelves is one I haven’t read, one that I hope a visitor never spots and asks about. The stupid thing is, when I’m making a visit to a second hand bookshop, I’m much more likely to sell a book I read and loved than a book I haven’t finished yet. Because of that thread of possibility, that I might finish.

 It took me years to get through Catch-22. I stuck with that one because every couple of chapters there was something that made me laugh, a little giggly moment of clarity where I saw why it was a modern classic. But I didn’t love it. If I had borrowed it from the library, I would have been saved by a due date, forced to return it eventually and pick something else. Because I had bought it, I felt like I had to finish. Like I wasn’t allowed to buy or read anything else until I had.

When the calendar flicked over to January 1, I began my New Year’s Resolution and 2015 reading challenge. I looked through my Christmas presents and bookshelves for Australian authors, and took Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot off my “what I’m currently reading” list on my website’s home page.

“I’ll come back to it,” I thought. “Next year.” The premise of the novel did and does still intrigue me, and the Prince had just started saying some interesting things, but it was slow reading and I was ready for something fresh.

So I was looking at my bookshelves, picking out the Australian authors and lining them up on a table. I had a Dymock’s catalogue open with the Australian authors on their 3 for 2 deal circled. I had a handwritten list of interesting-looking books I’d found on the pages of Australian literary agents. And my husband paused beside me to look.

“Are you going to read a Matthew Reilly book this year?” he asked.

“Maybe. Action’s not really my thing, but we’ll see.” I was deliberately non-committal. I’ve been known to fall asleep during action movies. It’s not the writing; it’s me.

He picked up the first two I had lined up: presents from a friend. Markus Zusak’s The Messenger and Tim Winton’s Eyrie.

“Would I like this? Tim Winton. Why’s that name familiar to me?”

“You probably read Cloudstreet in high school,” I told him.

“Oh yeah. I hated that book.” He put Eyrie back down.

In this short conversation, we acknowledged some of the unwritten rules of reading:
1.       Readers tend to know their own taste, and that’s not an insult to writers.
2.       Those who dislike something rarely go back for more.

The exception to rule #2 is a little like eating: those who dislike wasabi aren’t likely to go out of their way to find it. But those who dislike vegetables will try to find ways to mask the flavour or force them down, because they know that vegetables are good for them.

For some reason, I’ve internalised the idea that certain books are good for me. I was okay with saying no to Matthew Reilly, but when it had taken me a week to get to page 10 of Eyrie, I still felt like I should stick with it. I realised what was wrong when Jaclyn Moriarty’s The Cracks in the Kingdom appeared in my mailbox. I was longing to read that book. I love Moriarty. But I hadn’t finished Eyrie yet, or even made it a tenth of the way through…

I put the book down. Winton is a good writer. But he’s not to my taste.

Here’s why I’m writing this, and it’s something I want my students to know too:

It’s okay to put a book down.

You don’t have to like a bestseller. I wasn’t particularly enamoured of The Fault in Our Stars, and that’s okay.

Not everything “literary” is good for you. Give them a go every now and then, because there’s value in reading for the sake of language and exploration of the human condition, but when you find yourself wanting to bake a cake or learn to sew instead of reading, you’ve probably had enough for today.

Readers tend to know their own taste and that’s not an insult to writers or to readers. It’s better to honestly recommend a book that made you happy than pretend to like a book you think you “should” read.

Reading is good for you. Fiction helps us empathise. Reading improves our writing. Stories open minds and change them. Yes, even Harry Potter.

And don’t worry. According to this article, you weren’t the only one who didn’t finish The Goldfinch.

What’s it about?
Alba, a small town girl with a love for comic books, finishes high school and is nervous about what the future might bring. The town is overrun with hippies when a youtube psychic predicts that it will be the only safe place from the apocalypse, and an old friend turned-minor TV celebrity returns and shakes things up a bit for Alba and her best friend Grady.

Who’s it for?
Unlike The Messenger, I wasn’t on the fence about this, it’s definitely YA. Teen characters, teen themes (family, romantic relationships, identity, life after high school) and a clear teen voice.

Would I recommend it?
This is probably in that awkward middle ground where I wouldn’t go out of my way to suggest it to somebody looking for a good read, but if someone asked me about it I certainly wouldn’t say I disliked it either. It’s in 3 to 3.5 star territory. It really depends on what you are looking for in a book. The storyline itself isn’t particularly captivating and I didn’t fall in love with the characters, but I could relate to them and I remember what that time in my life was like.

Would I teach it?
Probably not. The age group that this would appeal to is in the final few years of high school but I don’t think there’s quite enough there, either in terms of literary technique or philosophical/political/moral content to fill up a whole novel study for grade 10-12 students. It might be suitable for mid-lower ability year 9 or 10 students, but there are other books out there that I’d choose first. For those worried about that sort of thing, there are few references to alcohol, being drunk, and “feck” used in place of “fuck” (what’s the point?). If you are interested in teaching it, there are a couple of activities to use as a starting point here.

I would, however, purchase it for a school library.

Final thoughts
I grew up in the city, but I now live in a country town where I teach high school students, so it was interesting to me to see the way the characters fit in to their setting. I don’t think Keil quite captured it (e.g. a town of 300 people that can’t support its own primary school wouldn’t have a main street complete with bakery and fish and chip shop) but I could certainly relate to the “stay or go” division at the end of school as well as the real sense of finality that going to university means saying goodbye to EVERYTHING you know, which just isn’t the case in the city. 

I read The Book Thief a few years ago and really enjoyed it, but I didn't pick up another Zusak book until this year's reading challenge. Whoops. I was missing out.

What's it about?
Ed Kennedy, a working class nobody from a rough part of town, is sent a series of cryptic messages that lead him to others in his community who need his help. The tasks he does range from quick and straightforward (e.g. giving a woman an ice cream) to things that any reasonable person would struggle with (murdering a rapist). It's a journey of empathy and of realising what "doing something with your life" might mean.


Who is it for?
Theoretically, it's a YA novel and it's received awards as such. It's noted as having "crossover appeal" but really, this is the perfect example of a book that I think sits right on the cusp of YA and adult fiction. Ed and his friends are navigating those early years of adulthood and looking for an idea of what to do with their lives, but the characters he meets and the problems he solves are certainly not distinctive of "YA" problems. As an adult reading it, in some ways I was glad to be a bit older and more appreciative of the language used, and the messages about social class and empathy are just as relevant.

Would I recommend it?
Yes.

Would I teach it?
There is so much potential in this book, and certainly there are lesson plans available for it all over the internet. The language is at times stunning, the ideas are poignant - just check out the goodreads quote page. It's a good introduction to metafiction because it's treated gently enough that it doesn't override the story. However, it would need to be an upper ability year 10 class or a year 11 class. If you're not in NSW, it might also be good for year 12, but I'm stuggling to think of an HSC module it would be well suited for as a related text. Besides, I'd want to be able to devote more time to it than that. If you are considering teaching it, be forewarned that you might have parents who disapprove - there's swearing aplenty and as mentioned above, rape (not explicit, but heartbreaking).
Pan Macmillan have teachers notes and a book club reading guide both of which can get you started with ideas.
There's a very detailed unit plan available on scribd.

Final thoughts
Zusak is a rare success story with a movie deal and awards overseas. He's not really someone I'd define as a struggling Aussie author in need of more exposure, but that wasn't what the challenge is about. There is a distinctive Australian voice in this. I grew up in Sydney and I could picture the setting perfectly. It's modern, with issues that are relevant to our politics and lifestyle today, and a far cry from the bush style that has long defined Australian literature.

I'm going to take a little bit of poetic license and pretend that last night I happened to finish reading at 11:59PM (I'll leave it up to you to guess what time it really was). I'm a lame, boring parent of two in a small country town, so New Years celebrations did not involve other people. My plan for NYE was to finish reading the Norwegian book I'd been halfway through, so that I could start my new goal for 2015:

Read only books by Australians. Don't fret, overseas writer-friends, I will return to your books in 2016. But for now, I want to support other Aussies and do my part to encourage a reading and writing culture with Australian voices. In the process of preparing to pitch my novel to Australian agents, I've also been browsing their websites. And as any reader knows, websites full of (mostly new) books are dangerous places to be. My "to read" list has grown considerably. And then there are a couple of Christmas present books that were conveniently from Aussies. It all fell into place like someone was telling me "Gabrielle, read more Australian authors!"

I teach in NSW, where the syllabus requires a certain number of texts from Australians each year. My plan, for all my teacher-friends, is to write a couple of brief notes after each novel explaining why it would or would not be good for the classroom, what year group it might be suitable for, and maybe a lesson idea or resource. Some books may have educational resources produced for them already, in which case I'll post links. 

 I'm still on maternity leave, only teaching a day a week casual work and semi-mentoring an extension II creative writing student, so I don't have any other books that I need to be reading for work. But if teachers would like to join in and only count the books you read for pleasure, do so! I'm not counting my scribophile critiques, only published books.

If there are other readers, writers, bloggers or teachers who would like to join me in my 2015 challenge, it'd be great to hear from you! Comment below, follow me on twitter, share your own blog. Recommend me a great Australian author.

Happy New Year! May your 2015 be a year of awesome, whatever you chose to do with it.