NZ Author – Cristina Sanders' blog

The Starving Bride – book review

The Starving Bride, by Catherine Chidgey

The brilliant Catherine Chidgey has gone over all gothic again in her recurring theme of slightly futuristic, weird British seaside amusement parks. I’m not sure she’s doing the places any favours, and for that I salute her. Horrible institutions, tacky and sad, harking back to a bygone age where people were fed pathetic entertainment and nasty hot dogs without irony. The theme of this one is “A Simpler Time” which sounds a bit Trumpian. Make these miserable little seaside towns great again. I’m a bit concerned that Chidgey’s recent books, from Axeman, Pet, Book of Guilt and now The Starving Bride, all focus on the manipulation of vulnerable people. Please, Catherine, enough psychological darkness. Would you please write us a beautiful, classical LOVE STORY? You know – a passionate couple, torn asunder by forces outside their control but (will they? won’t they?) do eventually get their happy ever after. Surprise us. It’d be brilliant.

George, the cover reveal

George, due February 2027

I am more than thrilled with the cover for my new book, George. It was created by the extraordinary Henrietta Harris, a Tamaki Makarau based artist and absolutely inspired choice with her enigmatic, disruptive images. In my story, George Grey is more than the cool governor sitting regally in his chair. What you can’t see in photographs of him Henrietta has captured here – the modern woman whose consciousness sits in his head. His imaginary friend.

George will be released by Bateman Books on 1 February, 2027.

The Unfortunate Lunatic – book review

The Unfortunate Lunatic, by Tess Redgrave

The Unfortunate Lunatic was Tess Redgrave’s paternal great grandfather. He wasn’t always known by that name, of course. He was Christopher Macalister, chemist of Invercargill, a husband and father, sandy-haired with ‘ruddy cheeks and soft blue eyes’. He suffered from ill health and died in 1893, ‘at the early age of thirty-three’. Tess knew nothing about him. Her paternal grandmother she did know personally, knew her troubles and the whispers of madness. Tess herself had bouts of the black dog occasionally, given blue pills, ‘mother’s little helpers’, for anxiety at school. Then, in her mid-thirties and suffering clinical depression, she began to wonder about the possibility of an inherited aspect to her mental condition. With her journalist’s nose for getting to the bottom of things, she went in search of her ancestors.

The Other Catherine – book review

The Other Catherine, by Lauren Keenan

Lauren Keenan (Te Ātiawa ki Taranaki) is making a name for herself writing strong women’s stories of our past told from alternating Māori and Pakeha viewpoints. Both The Other Catherine and her previous novel, The Space Between, follow this device. It soon becomes clear that, though the lives of these women from the outside may appear very different, their lived experiences have distinct similarities. They struggle, love and fear, find joy in small things, have unfulfilled desires and hope for a better future. Throw these experiences into a colonial context: women’s lack of agency and political power, poor sanitation and health, hard work and lives dependent on the mercy of men, and you’ll find a compelling story.

Sophie, Standing There

Sophie, Standing There, by Meg Mason

It’s a dull title, but apt. Sophie stands there a lot, waiting around for people to need her. I thought Meg Mason’s previous novel, Sorrow and Bliss was a terrifically clever (and dare I say funny in the context of mental illness?) description of an awkward, dysfunctional woman. I loved it. I felt such sympathy for the character. But my God. Sophie. There’s nothing particularly funny in this story, not funny haha, not funny peculiar, not funny clever, which is a shame as Meg Mason is absolutely capable of all three. But if you’re feeling down and enjoy a bit of schadenfreude to cheer you up, Sophie’s your girl.

George is on the way

George, a novel by Cristina Sanders

It’s no secret that George Grey is the subject of my next historical novel and I’m not at all embarrassed to say that I have dipped into the speculative realm to give him a bit of swag.

Bateman Books have taken George on, and I’ve sent the final (final final final) proofs off today. Hooray! I let George have an early read. He liked it. The rest of you will have to wait until February.

Night, Ma – book review

Night, Ma, by Elizabeth Knox

I had bought Night, Ma and left it on my table for a while, wondering if I really wanted to go there when there were nice, frivolous, bouncy books still on the pile to read. I finally opened it with trepidation, still bewildered as to why writers turn themselves inside out to offer up all their innermost vulnerabilities. I’m a late-comer to the intimacy of memoir. Now of course I recognise it is this very vulnerability that makes the genre so compelling. Human nature recognises and engages with truth, and truth is at the heart of every great story. Perhaps we connect with memoir in a more primal way than fiction and feel every scene, every touch, with far more intensity because it’s not just made up out of some frivolous author’s head, or some AI bot. Here’s the truth, as one woman sees it. Night, Ma comes alive through Elizabeth Knox’s almost subcutaneous observations of the people closest to her. And that’s fascinating.

Nailing Down the Saint

Nailing Down the Saint, by Craig Cliff

Craig Cliff’s The Mannequin Makers was such a hit for me recently, I thought I’d give another of his books a whirl. Nailing Down the Saint sounded suitably quirky and it is, indeed, a very odd book. Lots of it I just didn’t get. So much of the detail – music, film, cultural – was out of my frame of reference so the nuances skipped past me. Wet Sprocket and heavy metal TOÄD, anyone? George Costanza’s answering-machine message? I didn’t look any of this stuff up, though it might be funny. And the story rambled on for a very long time without me ever really understanding whether the protagonist was winning, whether he was a genius or a sad weirdo, what the point of the story was. But you know what? I loved it. It felt authentic, in a way even the best New Zealand books seldom do.

The First Law of the Bush – book review

The First Law of the Bush, by Geoff Parkes

I asked my book guru for a book with plot. I’m writing the outline of a potential novel which needs a properly complicated sub-plot – the sort where a bloke does one little thing that he shouldn’t and things snowball dramatically to a killer twist at the end. Not my usual type of writing, or reading for that matter.
“Read The First Law of the Bush,” said Phil. So I did.

All Her Lives – book review

All Her Lives, by Ingrid Horrocks

Ingrid Horrocks’ book, All her Lives, currently shortlisted for the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction (UPDATE – yay!! She won!!), contains nine short stories of women across different generations. The stories span from a tenacious woman chasing stolen silver on the Norwegian coast in 1795 via a Berlin nightclub in 2005 to a woman who visits her son in prison, today. The stories are elegantly constructed, totally different but all the same, each telling of a woman negotiating her place to stand amongst the men around her. If you’re looking for the voice of the Universal Woman she’s here, in these collected works, in a consideration that runs through all these lives like a subcutaneous layer of fat. Simply: How do I, as a woman, negotiate communication with men?

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