Latest news with #BrokeRoad
The Advertiser
04-08-2025
- The Advertiser
Why this man knows how to get away with murder
It was a Hunter forensic pathologist's tip on the perfect murder that sparked Matthew Spencer's latest inspiration for his second novel, Broke Road. The words, 'if I wanted to murder someone and didn't want a forensic pathologist to know how, this is what I would do,' had Spencer putting pen to paper. Broke Road is set in the Hunter Valley at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. Maitland and Newcastle also get mentions in the novel. The thriller novel follows a string of unexplained murders, women found dead in their homes, hundreds of kilometres apart and a homicide detective fearing she's looking at a killer on a spree. Although it's a book about murder and not wine, Spencer said the story unearths undercurrents of discontent between the coal industry and winemakers. Broke Road is a follow on novel from Black River, which was Spencer's debut book in 2022. Residing in Sydney, Spencer said he frequents the Hunter Valley for the occasional weekend away or to attend a wedding. "While I was doing research for the book, I spoke with a variety of winemakers in the Hunter Valley," he said. "I also spoke to a lot of people in Cessnock who either live or work there." His first novel was set in Sydney, and Spencer said his readers seemed to have enjoyed the familiar locality that the novel offers. "I'm hoping all of that local flavour comes through and the place rings true for people who live there," he said. A former journalist for The Australian, Spencer, did his fair share of research for Broke Road; however, he said it was important not to let the research get in the way of the story. "You never let it get in the way of the narrative or the plot," he said. Although English literature has always been an interest and love of his, Spencer said he never imagined he'd one day be an author. "Becoming an author would have been a dream of mine when I was younger but at the time I would have thought it was unattainable," he said. When he left journalism, Spencer had to find something to fill in his days. "I had an idea for the first book, it was a very simple idea so I decided to see how it went," he said. A third book is on its way with Spencer expecting it to be released within the next two years. It was a Hunter forensic pathologist's tip on the perfect murder that sparked Matthew Spencer's latest inspiration for his second novel, Broke Road. The words, 'if I wanted to murder someone and didn't want a forensic pathologist to know how, this is what I would do,' had Spencer putting pen to paper. Broke Road is set in the Hunter Valley at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. Maitland and Newcastle also get mentions in the novel. The thriller novel follows a string of unexplained murders, women found dead in their homes, hundreds of kilometres apart and a homicide detective fearing she's looking at a killer on a spree. Although it's a book about murder and not wine, Spencer said the story unearths undercurrents of discontent between the coal industry and winemakers. Broke Road is a follow on novel from Black River, which was Spencer's debut book in 2022. Residing in Sydney, Spencer said he frequents the Hunter Valley for the occasional weekend away or to attend a wedding. "While I was doing research for the book, I spoke with a variety of winemakers in the Hunter Valley," he said. "I also spoke to a lot of people in Cessnock who either live or work there." His first novel was set in Sydney, and Spencer said his readers seemed to have enjoyed the familiar locality that the novel offers. "I'm hoping all of that local flavour comes through and the place rings true for people who live there," he said. A former journalist for The Australian, Spencer, did his fair share of research for Broke Road; however, he said it was important not to let the research get in the way of the story. "You never let it get in the way of the narrative or the plot," he said. Although English literature has always been an interest and love of his, Spencer said he never imagined he'd one day be an author. "Becoming an author would have been a dream of mine when I was younger but at the time I would have thought it was unattainable," he said. When he left journalism, Spencer had to find something to fill in his days. "I had an idea for the first book, it was a very simple idea so I decided to see how it went," he said. A third book is on its way with Spencer expecting it to be released within the next two years. It was a Hunter forensic pathologist's tip on the perfect murder that sparked Matthew Spencer's latest inspiration for his second novel, Broke Road. The words, 'if I wanted to murder someone and didn't want a forensic pathologist to know how, this is what I would do,' had Spencer putting pen to paper. Broke Road is set in the Hunter Valley at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. Maitland and Newcastle also get mentions in the novel. The thriller novel follows a string of unexplained murders, women found dead in their homes, hundreds of kilometres apart and a homicide detective fearing she's looking at a killer on a spree. Although it's a book about murder and not wine, Spencer said the story unearths undercurrents of discontent between the coal industry and winemakers. Broke Road is a follow on novel from Black River, which was Spencer's debut book in 2022. Residing in Sydney, Spencer said he frequents the Hunter Valley for the occasional weekend away or to attend a wedding. "While I was doing research for the book, I spoke with a variety of winemakers in the Hunter Valley," he said. "I also spoke to a lot of people in Cessnock who either live or work there." His first novel was set in Sydney, and Spencer said his readers seemed to have enjoyed the familiar locality that the novel offers. "I'm hoping all of that local flavour comes through and the place rings true for people who live there," he said. A former journalist for The Australian, Spencer, did his fair share of research for Broke Road; however, he said it was important not to let the research get in the way of the story. "You never let it get in the way of the narrative or the plot," he said. Although English literature has always been an interest and love of his, Spencer said he never imagined he'd one day be an author. "Becoming an author would have been a dream of mine when I was younger but at the time I would have thought it was unattainable," he said. When he left journalism, Spencer had to find something to fill in his days. "I had an idea for the first book, it was a very simple idea so I decided to see how it went," he said. A third book is on its way with Spencer expecting it to be released within the next two years. It was a Hunter forensic pathologist's tip on the perfect murder that sparked Matthew Spencer's latest inspiration for his second novel, Broke Road. The words, 'if I wanted to murder someone and didn't want a forensic pathologist to know how, this is what I would do,' had Spencer putting pen to paper. Broke Road is set in the Hunter Valley at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. Maitland and Newcastle also get mentions in the novel. The thriller novel follows a string of unexplained murders, women found dead in their homes, hundreds of kilometres apart and a homicide detective fearing she's looking at a killer on a spree. Although it's a book about murder and not wine, Spencer said the story unearths undercurrents of discontent between the coal industry and winemakers. Broke Road is a follow on novel from Black River, which was Spencer's debut book in 2022. Residing in Sydney, Spencer said he frequents the Hunter Valley for the occasional weekend away or to attend a wedding. "While I was doing research for the book, I spoke with a variety of winemakers in the Hunter Valley," he said. "I also spoke to a lot of people in Cessnock who either live or work there." His first novel was set in Sydney, and Spencer said his readers seemed to have enjoyed the familiar locality that the novel offers. "I'm hoping all of that local flavour comes through and the place rings true for people who live there," he said. A former journalist for The Australian, Spencer, did his fair share of research for Broke Road; however, he said it was important not to let the research get in the way of the story. "You never let it get in the way of the narrative or the plot," he said. Although English literature has always been an interest and love of his, Spencer said he never imagined he'd one day be an author. "Becoming an author would have been a dream of mine when I was younger but at the time I would have thought it was unattainable," he said. When he left journalism, Spencer had to find something to fill in his days. "I had an idea for the first book, it was a very simple idea so I decided to see how it went," he said. A third book is on its way with Spencer expecting it to be released within the next two years.
The Advertiser
17-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Advertiser
Addicted to watching reels on your phone? Blame it on your biology
New releases include police procedural Broke Road by Matthew Spencer and Super Stimulated by Nicklas Brendborg. Nicklas Brendborg. Hodder Press. $32.99. Are you addicted to your smartphone? Specifically, to social media or perhaps those endless videos so engaging that you just can't help scrolling? What about those sugary doughnuts? Brendborg engagingly explains the science behind how we are being hacked by companies that want us to eat their empty-calorie junk food and watch their mindless videos. We are, it seems, being played for fools, obese, lonely, depressed and anxious as a society because our biology is being manipulated. Scariest quote? An inventor of the Like button: "I find myself getting addicted - yes, in some cases to the very things I've built." Jeff Apter. Echo Publishing. $34.99. American promoter Lee Gordon had an extraordinary impact on post-war Australia. Arriving in Sydney in 1953, Gordon transformed show business by bringing hundreds of international stars, such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr and Buddy Holly, to Australian audiences. He was a friend to rocker Johnny O'Keefe, opened the nation's first drive-in restaurant and introduced roller derby. Gordon's bold approach and larger-than-life persona - he once had a coffin in his living room - helped to lay the foundations for the modern entertainment industry. He paved the way for showbiz names such as Harry M. Miller, Michael Gudinski and Michael Chugg. Katherine Biber. Scribner. $36.99. On January 18, 1901, when the Australian Federation was 17 days old, Wiradjuri man Jimmy Governor was hanged at Darlinghurst Gaol. Governor and his brother Joe murdered nine people in NSW - killings triggered, he said, by racial taunts towards his white wife. In the ensuing manhunt, Joe was killed near Singleton. Jimmy was caught near Wingham. Legal scholar Katherine Biber's detailed research was guided in part by Governor's descendants. Biber reconstructs events, explores attitudes of the time and aims "to see how law, politics, science and religion - but especially law - made modern Australia in the wake of the Governor brothers". Jaap de Roode. NewSouth Books. $44.99. Why do dogs eat grass? An explanation is in this book, which is a journey through the many ingenious ways that animals find and use medicine, from apes that swallow certain leaves whole to kill parasites to elephants that eat clay and sparrows that cleverly use discarded cigarette butts to protect their nests from blood-sucking mites. Scientist Jaap de Roode demonstrates that observing animals can provide more than a few clues for healing humans. He also argues that we can help our animals by repairing damage we have done to the environment, starting with the "biodiversity deserts" that are lawns. Pip Smith. UWA Publishing. $26.99. In December 2010, more than 50 asylum seekers died when a rickety Indonesian fishing boat, the Janga, known as Suspected Illegal Entry Vessel-221 or SIEV-221, crashed against rocks and sank off Christmas Island. The footage of the unfolding tragedy shocked the world. This poignant novel for young adults explores the horror, heartbreak and humanity of the tragedy through the experiences of a 13-year-old Australian girl living on Christmas Island. As Coralie throws lifejackets to people on the boat that has crashed into the cliffs she locks eyes on 11-year-old Iranian boy Ali who soon disappears beneath the waves. She resolves to find him. Matthew Spencer. Allen & Unwin. $34.99. From its clever opening line, this police procedural leads you with compelling precision through an increasingly suspenseful murder investigation in the fictional village of Red Creek located between the authentically drawn (and very non-fictional) hardscrabble town of Cessnock and the luxurious cellar doors, lush golf resorts and other tourist traps of Hunter Valley wine country. Homicide detective sergeant Rose Riley and journalist-turned-crime author Adam Bowman, first introduced in journalist-turned-crime author Matthew Spencer's 2023 debut novel Black River, make an engagingly reluctant double act probing the suspiciously staged murder of a young woman in a townhouse in a new residential estate. A Forbidden Alchemy Stacey McEwan. Simon & Schuster. $34.99. TikTok sensation and Australian fantasy novelist Stacey McEwan creates a rich new world in her newest dystopian series. This slow-burn adventure follows Nina Harrow as she tries to escape her mining town upbringing in dazzling Belavere City. Nina is desperate to become an "Artisan", wielding magical powers to fulfill the city's grand ambitions. But when a violent revolution comes, she faces an impossible choice. Expect political intrigue, suspense and romance, plus a few heart-stopping moments. McEwan, who was raised on the Gold Coast, has said her love for period dramas and World War I inspired the world of Belavere City. Jessica Dettmann. Atlantic Books Australia. $32.99. The fourth novel by Jessica Dettmann is billed as a witty heartwarmer for "every woman who has looked up and wondered where the past decade or two has gone, and whether she's made the right choices in the juggle of family, work and life". When Margot receives an email from friend Tess, it comes as a shock. Tess, the English backpacker Margot met in Sydney but never ended up travelling across Europe with because love and life got in the way, died 20 years ago. Now Tess is giving her the means to have that adventure but is Margot ready for her second chance? New releases include police procedural Broke Road by Matthew Spencer and Super Stimulated by Nicklas Brendborg. Nicklas Brendborg. Hodder Press. $32.99. Are you addicted to your smartphone? Specifically, to social media or perhaps those endless videos so engaging that you just can't help scrolling? What about those sugary doughnuts? Brendborg engagingly explains the science behind how we are being hacked by companies that want us to eat their empty-calorie junk food and watch their mindless videos. We are, it seems, being played for fools, obese, lonely, depressed and anxious as a society because our biology is being manipulated. Scariest quote? An inventor of the Like button: "I find myself getting addicted - yes, in some cases to the very things I've built." Jeff Apter. Echo Publishing. $34.99. American promoter Lee Gordon had an extraordinary impact on post-war Australia. Arriving in Sydney in 1953, Gordon transformed show business by bringing hundreds of international stars, such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr and Buddy Holly, to Australian audiences. He was a friend to rocker Johnny O'Keefe, opened the nation's first drive-in restaurant and introduced roller derby. Gordon's bold approach and larger-than-life persona - he once had a coffin in his living room - helped to lay the foundations for the modern entertainment industry. He paved the way for showbiz names such as Harry M. Miller, Michael Gudinski and Michael Chugg. Katherine Biber. Scribner. $36.99. On January 18, 1901, when the Australian Federation was 17 days old, Wiradjuri man Jimmy Governor was hanged at Darlinghurst Gaol. Governor and his brother Joe murdered nine people in NSW - killings triggered, he said, by racial taunts towards his white wife. In the ensuing manhunt, Joe was killed near Singleton. Jimmy was caught near Wingham. Legal scholar Katherine Biber's detailed research was guided in part by Governor's descendants. Biber reconstructs events, explores attitudes of the time and aims "to see how law, politics, science and religion - but especially law - made modern Australia in the wake of the Governor brothers". Jaap de Roode. NewSouth Books. $44.99. Why do dogs eat grass? An explanation is in this book, which is a journey through the many ingenious ways that animals find and use medicine, from apes that swallow certain leaves whole to kill parasites to elephants that eat clay and sparrows that cleverly use discarded cigarette butts to protect their nests from blood-sucking mites. Scientist Jaap de Roode demonstrates that observing animals can provide more than a few clues for healing humans. He also argues that we can help our animals by repairing damage we have done to the environment, starting with the "biodiversity deserts" that are lawns. Pip Smith. UWA Publishing. $26.99. In December 2010, more than 50 asylum seekers died when a rickety Indonesian fishing boat, the Janga, known as Suspected Illegal Entry Vessel-221 or SIEV-221, crashed against rocks and sank off Christmas Island. The footage of the unfolding tragedy shocked the world. This poignant novel for young adults explores the horror, heartbreak and humanity of the tragedy through the experiences of a 13-year-old Australian girl living on Christmas Island. As Coralie throws lifejackets to people on the boat that has crashed into the cliffs she locks eyes on 11-year-old Iranian boy Ali who soon disappears beneath the waves. She resolves to find him. Matthew Spencer. Allen & Unwin. $34.99. From its clever opening line, this police procedural leads you with compelling precision through an increasingly suspenseful murder investigation in the fictional village of Red Creek located between the authentically drawn (and very non-fictional) hardscrabble town of Cessnock and the luxurious cellar doors, lush golf resorts and other tourist traps of Hunter Valley wine country. Homicide detective sergeant Rose Riley and journalist-turned-crime author Adam Bowman, first introduced in journalist-turned-crime author Matthew Spencer's 2023 debut novel Black River, make an engagingly reluctant double act probing the suspiciously staged murder of a young woman in a townhouse in a new residential estate. A Forbidden Alchemy Stacey McEwan. Simon & Schuster. $34.99. TikTok sensation and Australian fantasy novelist Stacey McEwan creates a rich new world in her newest dystopian series. This slow-burn adventure follows Nina Harrow as she tries to escape her mining town upbringing in dazzling Belavere City. Nina is desperate to become an "Artisan", wielding magical powers to fulfill the city's grand ambitions. But when a violent revolution comes, she faces an impossible choice. Expect political intrigue, suspense and romance, plus a few heart-stopping moments. McEwan, who was raised on the Gold Coast, has said her love for period dramas and World War I inspired the world of Belavere City. Jessica Dettmann. Atlantic Books Australia. $32.99. The fourth novel by Jessica Dettmann is billed as a witty heartwarmer for "every woman who has looked up and wondered where the past decade or two has gone, and whether she's made the right choices in the juggle of family, work and life". When Margot receives an email from friend Tess, it comes as a shock. Tess, the English backpacker Margot met in Sydney but never ended up travelling across Europe with because love and life got in the way, died 20 years ago. Now Tess is giving her the means to have that adventure but is Margot ready for her second chance? New releases include police procedural Broke Road by Matthew Spencer and Super Stimulated by Nicklas Brendborg. Nicklas Brendborg. Hodder Press. $32.99. Are you addicted to your smartphone? Specifically, to social media or perhaps those endless videos so engaging that you just can't help scrolling? What about those sugary doughnuts? Brendborg engagingly explains the science behind how we are being hacked by companies that want us to eat their empty-calorie junk food and watch their mindless videos. We are, it seems, being played for fools, obese, lonely, depressed and anxious as a society because our biology is being manipulated. Scariest quote? An inventor of the Like button: "I find myself getting addicted - yes, in some cases to the very things I've built." Jeff Apter. Echo Publishing. $34.99. American promoter Lee Gordon had an extraordinary impact on post-war Australia. Arriving in Sydney in 1953, Gordon transformed show business by bringing hundreds of international stars, such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr and Buddy Holly, to Australian audiences. He was a friend to rocker Johnny O'Keefe, opened the nation's first drive-in restaurant and introduced roller derby. Gordon's bold approach and larger-than-life persona - he once had a coffin in his living room - helped to lay the foundations for the modern entertainment industry. He paved the way for showbiz names such as Harry M. Miller, Michael Gudinski and Michael Chugg. Katherine Biber. Scribner. $36.99. On January 18, 1901, when the Australian Federation was 17 days old, Wiradjuri man Jimmy Governor was hanged at Darlinghurst Gaol. Governor and his brother Joe murdered nine people in NSW - killings triggered, he said, by racial taunts towards his white wife. In the ensuing manhunt, Joe was killed near Singleton. Jimmy was caught near Wingham. Legal scholar Katherine Biber's detailed research was guided in part by Governor's descendants. Biber reconstructs events, explores attitudes of the time and aims "to see how law, politics, science and religion - but especially law - made modern Australia in the wake of the Governor brothers". Jaap de Roode. NewSouth Books. $44.99. Why do dogs eat grass? An explanation is in this book, which is a journey through the many ingenious ways that animals find and use medicine, from apes that swallow certain leaves whole to kill parasites to elephants that eat clay and sparrows that cleverly use discarded cigarette butts to protect their nests from blood-sucking mites. Scientist Jaap de Roode demonstrates that observing animals can provide more than a few clues for healing humans. He also argues that we can help our animals by repairing damage we have done to the environment, starting with the "biodiversity deserts" that are lawns. Pip Smith. UWA Publishing. $26.99. In December 2010, more than 50 asylum seekers died when a rickety Indonesian fishing boat, the Janga, known as Suspected Illegal Entry Vessel-221 or SIEV-221, crashed against rocks and sank off Christmas Island. The footage of the unfolding tragedy shocked the world. This poignant novel for young adults explores the horror, heartbreak and humanity of the tragedy through the experiences of a 13-year-old Australian girl living on Christmas Island. As Coralie throws lifejackets to people on the boat that has crashed into the cliffs she locks eyes on 11-year-old Iranian boy Ali who soon disappears beneath the waves. She resolves to find him. Matthew Spencer. Allen & Unwin. $34.99. From its clever opening line, this police procedural leads you with compelling precision through an increasingly suspenseful murder investigation in the fictional village of Red Creek located between the authentically drawn (and very non-fictional) hardscrabble town of Cessnock and the luxurious cellar doors, lush golf resorts and other tourist traps of Hunter Valley wine country. Homicide detective sergeant Rose Riley and journalist-turned-crime author Adam Bowman, first introduced in journalist-turned-crime author Matthew Spencer's 2023 debut novel Black River, make an engagingly reluctant double act probing the suspiciously staged murder of a young woman in a townhouse in a new residential estate. A Forbidden Alchemy Stacey McEwan. Simon & Schuster. $34.99. TikTok sensation and Australian fantasy novelist Stacey McEwan creates a rich new world in her newest dystopian series. This slow-burn adventure follows Nina Harrow as she tries to escape her mining town upbringing in dazzling Belavere City. Nina is desperate to become an "Artisan", wielding magical powers to fulfill the city's grand ambitions. But when a violent revolution comes, she faces an impossible choice. Expect political intrigue, suspense and romance, plus a few heart-stopping moments. McEwan, who was raised on the Gold Coast, has said her love for period dramas and World War I inspired the world of Belavere City. Jessica Dettmann. Atlantic Books Australia. $32.99. The fourth novel by Jessica Dettmann is billed as a witty heartwarmer for "every woman who has looked up and wondered where the past decade or two has gone, and whether she's made the right choices in the juggle of family, work and life". When Margot receives an email from friend Tess, it comes as a shock. Tess, the English backpacker Margot met in Sydney but never ended up travelling across Europe with because love and life got in the way, died 20 years ago. Now Tess is giving her the means to have that adventure but is Margot ready for her second chance? New releases include police procedural Broke Road by Matthew Spencer and Super Stimulated by Nicklas Brendborg. Nicklas Brendborg. Hodder Press. $32.99. Are you addicted to your smartphone? Specifically, to social media or perhaps those endless videos so engaging that you just can't help scrolling? What about those sugary doughnuts? Brendborg engagingly explains the science behind how we are being hacked by companies that want us to eat their empty-calorie junk food and watch their mindless videos. We are, it seems, being played for fools, obese, lonely, depressed and anxious as a society because our biology is being manipulated. Scariest quote? An inventor of the Like button: "I find myself getting addicted - yes, in some cases to the very things I've built." Jeff Apter. Echo Publishing. $34.99. American promoter Lee Gordon had an extraordinary impact on post-war Australia. Arriving in Sydney in 1953, Gordon transformed show business by bringing hundreds of international stars, such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr and Buddy Holly, to Australian audiences. He was a friend to rocker Johnny O'Keefe, opened the nation's first drive-in restaurant and introduced roller derby. Gordon's bold approach and larger-than-life persona - he once had a coffin in his living room - helped to lay the foundations for the modern entertainment industry. He paved the way for showbiz names such as Harry M. Miller, Michael Gudinski and Michael Chugg. Katherine Biber. Scribner. $36.99. On January 18, 1901, when the Australian Federation was 17 days old, Wiradjuri man Jimmy Governor was hanged at Darlinghurst Gaol. Governor and his brother Joe murdered nine people in NSW - killings triggered, he said, by racial taunts towards his white wife. In the ensuing manhunt, Joe was killed near Singleton. Jimmy was caught near Wingham. Legal scholar Katherine Biber's detailed research was guided in part by Governor's descendants. Biber reconstructs events, explores attitudes of the time and aims "to see how law, politics, science and religion - but especially law - made modern Australia in the wake of the Governor brothers". Jaap de Roode. NewSouth Books. $44.99. Why do dogs eat grass? An explanation is in this book, which is a journey through the many ingenious ways that animals find and use medicine, from apes that swallow certain leaves whole to kill parasites to elephants that eat clay and sparrows that cleverly use discarded cigarette butts to protect their nests from blood-sucking mites. Scientist Jaap de Roode demonstrates that observing animals can provide more than a few clues for healing humans. He also argues that we can help our animals by repairing damage we have done to the environment, starting with the "biodiversity deserts" that are lawns. Pip Smith. UWA Publishing. $26.99. In December 2010, more than 50 asylum seekers died when a rickety Indonesian fishing boat, the Janga, known as Suspected Illegal Entry Vessel-221 or SIEV-221, crashed against rocks and sank off Christmas Island. The footage of the unfolding tragedy shocked the world. This poignant novel for young adults explores the horror, heartbreak and humanity of the tragedy through the experiences of a 13-year-old Australian girl living on Christmas Island. As Coralie throws lifejackets to people on the boat that has crashed into the cliffs she locks eyes on 11-year-old Iranian boy Ali who soon disappears beneath the waves. She resolves to find him. Matthew Spencer. Allen & Unwin. $34.99. From its clever opening line, this police procedural leads you with compelling precision through an increasingly suspenseful murder investigation in the fictional village of Red Creek located between the authentically drawn (and very non-fictional) hardscrabble town of Cessnock and the luxurious cellar doors, lush golf resorts and other tourist traps of Hunter Valley wine country. Homicide detective sergeant Rose Riley and journalist-turned-crime author Adam Bowman, first introduced in journalist-turned-crime author Matthew Spencer's 2023 debut novel Black River, make an engagingly reluctant double act probing the suspiciously staged murder of a young woman in a townhouse in a new residential estate. A Forbidden Alchemy Stacey McEwan. Simon & Schuster. $34.99. TikTok sensation and Australian fantasy novelist Stacey McEwan creates a rich new world in her newest dystopian series. This slow-burn adventure follows Nina Harrow as she tries to escape her mining town upbringing in dazzling Belavere City. Nina is desperate to become an "Artisan", wielding magical powers to fulfill the city's grand ambitions. But when a violent revolution comes, she faces an impossible choice. Expect political intrigue, suspense and romance, plus a few heart-stopping moments. McEwan, who was raised on the Gold Coast, has said her love for period dramas and World War I inspired the world of Belavere City. Jessica Dettmann. Atlantic Books Australia. $32.99. The fourth novel by Jessica Dettmann is billed as a witty heartwarmer for "every woman who has looked up and wondered where the past decade or two has gone, and whether she's made the right choices in the juggle of family, work and life". When Margot receives an email from friend Tess, it comes as a shock. Tess, the English backpacker Margot met in Sydney but never ended up travelling across Europe with because love and life got in the way, died 20 years ago. Now Tess is giving her the means to have that adventure but is Margot ready for her second chance?
The Advertiser
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Advertiser
'If I wanted to murder someone, this is what I'd do'
Novels, so I'm told, don't arrive to their authors fully formed, with plots or stories presenting themselves, ready to be jotted down on a whiteboard. A novel arrives to a novelist as an idea, often very simple, but at the same time distinct: the idea will have a certain heft and feel to it. Nabokov described it as a throb. I didn't know any of this, until I read the late novelist Martin Amis writing about how to write fiction. I read this soon after I'd left my job as a journalist after 20 years, and Amis describing Nabokov's throb gave me an idea: I could write my own novel - because I had an idea at least. My idea was simple. A crime had been committed at a big, old boy's boarding school, and a journalist who had grown up at the school 30 years ago, the son of teachers who had lived on the grounds, was sent out to report on the police investigation. That was it. I didn't even know what the crime was. But the idea became my debut novel Black River, published in 2022 by Allen & Unwin. Following Black River, I planned to write another novel, with the same main characters. So a police procedural, based around a NSW Homicide Detective Sergeant and a newspaper journalist. No sweat. Fine. The two characters, who first met in Black River, have now known each other for two years, have formed a bond, and, well, off we go. Except, what I had given myself was running orders - write a police procedural with your cop and your journo - rather than an idea. What to do? I wasn't sure. I rang a forensic pathologist who had been very kind, and very helpful, and very generous with his time and knowledge when I was writing Black River. "I'm writing another book," I said to the pathologist. "What are we going to do?" "I dunno. You're the f---ing novelist," he said. Mmmm. This was unhelpfully true. Then, immediately, he said, and I paraphrase, "Oh, if I wanted to murder someone, and have someone like me not know that I'd done it, this is what I'd do." On the phone, I think I probably sat up a little straighter. Talk about all ears. And he told me what he'd do, to commit a murder, that would stymie a forensic pathologist examining the corpse post-mortem. And that became "my" idea, the bedrock for my second novel Broke Road. (No spoilers, but it involves binding, gagging, the way certain materials might interact with skin.) And it's strange how it worked. How having a bare-bones idea gave me the confidence to start writing the novel, and how everything fanned out from it: place, character, plot, the burgeoning relationship between the cop and the journo. MORE GREAT READS: Because the basic idea of how to kill someone didn't tell me anything else: it didn't tell me who died, or who killed them, or where, or why, or whether anyone else may have been killed in the same manner. That all came later, flowing out from the first throb. Broke Road skits around, geographically, from Canberra to Murrumbateman to Adelaide to Sydney. But its heart lies north of Cessnock, in the lower Hunter Valley, at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. The Hunter had always interested me, starting with its geology: the Triassic cliffs of the ranges, the coal measures laid down, the patches of weathered, volcanic soil that attracted our nation's first vignerons. Coal and wine, both industries the result of what lies beneath - in this case - a Permian swamp. All of which led to the mining town of Cessnock, and the wine district just to its north. What interested me here, was how these two worlds remain so distinct, how Cessnock has stood aloof and refused to re-fashion itself as a centre for the wine tourists. That's where Broke Road is set, between these two communities, neighbours standing apart. With my first novel, I was in my comfort zone, geographically. I was writing about my childhood home - the big old boarding school in the book is a real place, The King's School at North Parramatta, and it's where I grew up, the son of teachers. With Broke Road and the Hunter, I was well out of my depth, and certainly stretching myself. Which is good as a writer, I think (I hope). I fell back on my journalism, and did some research. I twice travelled the Hunter with a journalist friend who knows the region well. We sampled some wares, and he introduced me around. I went back several times on my own. I spoke to locals in Cessnock, winemakers in Pokolbin (and another in Murrumbateman), a forensic investigator and a forensic pathologist in Newcastle, a former homicide detective, a geologist in Maitland, a property developer, a local council manager, a politician, a builder, a ceramics teacher, a urologist, a pilot. The pilot character got cut, but the rest is all in there, threaded through Broke Road's plots and people and sense of place. I hope I've done it all justice, so that, most important of all, readers can enjoy. Novels, so I'm told, don't arrive to their authors fully formed, with plots or stories presenting themselves, ready to be jotted down on a whiteboard. A novel arrives to a novelist as an idea, often very simple, but at the same time distinct: the idea will have a certain heft and feel to it. Nabokov described it as a throb. I didn't know any of this, until I read the late novelist Martin Amis writing about how to write fiction. I read this soon after I'd left my job as a journalist after 20 years, and Amis describing Nabokov's throb gave me an idea: I could write my own novel - because I had an idea at least. My idea was simple. A crime had been committed at a big, old boy's boarding school, and a journalist who had grown up at the school 30 years ago, the son of teachers who had lived on the grounds, was sent out to report on the police investigation. That was it. I didn't even know what the crime was. But the idea became my debut novel Black River, published in 2022 by Allen & Unwin. Following Black River, I planned to write another novel, with the same main characters. So a police procedural, based around a NSW Homicide Detective Sergeant and a newspaper journalist. No sweat. Fine. The two characters, who first met in Black River, have now known each other for two years, have formed a bond, and, well, off we go. Except, what I had given myself was running orders - write a police procedural with your cop and your journo - rather than an idea. What to do? I wasn't sure. I rang a forensic pathologist who had been very kind, and very helpful, and very generous with his time and knowledge when I was writing Black River. "I'm writing another book," I said to the pathologist. "What are we going to do?" "I dunno. You're the f---ing novelist," he said. Mmmm. This was unhelpfully true. Then, immediately, he said, and I paraphrase, "Oh, if I wanted to murder someone, and have someone like me not know that I'd done it, this is what I'd do." On the phone, I think I probably sat up a little straighter. Talk about all ears. And he told me what he'd do, to commit a murder, that would stymie a forensic pathologist examining the corpse post-mortem. And that became "my" idea, the bedrock for my second novel Broke Road. (No spoilers, but it involves binding, gagging, the way certain materials might interact with skin.) And it's strange how it worked. How having a bare-bones idea gave me the confidence to start writing the novel, and how everything fanned out from it: place, character, plot, the burgeoning relationship between the cop and the journo. MORE GREAT READS: Because the basic idea of how to kill someone didn't tell me anything else: it didn't tell me who died, or who killed them, or where, or why, or whether anyone else may have been killed in the same manner. That all came later, flowing out from the first throb. Broke Road skits around, geographically, from Canberra to Murrumbateman to Adelaide to Sydney. But its heart lies north of Cessnock, in the lower Hunter Valley, at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. The Hunter had always interested me, starting with its geology: the Triassic cliffs of the ranges, the coal measures laid down, the patches of weathered, volcanic soil that attracted our nation's first vignerons. Coal and wine, both industries the result of what lies beneath - in this case - a Permian swamp. All of which led to the mining town of Cessnock, and the wine district just to its north. What interested me here, was how these two worlds remain so distinct, how Cessnock has stood aloof and refused to re-fashion itself as a centre for the wine tourists. That's where Broke Road is set, between these two communities, neighbours standing apart. With my first novel, I was in my comfort zone, geographically. I was writing about my childhood home - the big old boarding school in the book is a real place, The King's School at North Parramatta, and it's where I grew up, the son of teachers. With Broke Road and the Hunter, I was well out of my depth, and certainly stretching myself. Which is good as a writer, I think (I hope). I fell back on my journalism, and did some research. I twice travelled the Hunter with a journalist friend who knows the region well. We sampled some wares, and he introduced me around. I went back several times on my own. I spoke to locals in Cessnock, winemakers in Pokolbin (and another in Murrumbateman), a forensic investigator and a forensic pathologist in Newcastle, a former homicide detective, a geologist in Maitland, a property developer, a local council manager, a politician, a builder, a ceramics teacher, a urologist, a pilot. The pilot character got cut, but the rest is all in there, threaded through Broke Road's plots and people and sense of place. I hope I've done it all justice, so that, most important of all, readers can enjoy. Novels, so I'm told, don't arrive to their authors fully formed, with plots or stories presenting themselves, ready to be jotted down on a whiteboard. A novel arrives to a novelist as an idea, often very simple, but at the same time distinct: the idea will have a certain heft and feel to it. Nabokov described it as a throb. I didn't know any of this, until I read the late novelist Martin Amis writing about how to write fiction. I read this soon after I'd left my job as a journalist after 20 years, and Amis describing Nabokov's throb gave me an idea: I could write my own novel - because I had an idea at least. My idea was simple. A crime had been committed at a big, old boy's boarding school, and a journalist who had grown up at the school 30 years ago, the son of teachers who had lived on the grounds, was sent out to report on the police investigation. That was it. I didn't even know what the crime was. But the idea became my debut novel Black River, published in 2022 by Allen & Unwin. Following Black River, I planned to write another novel, with the same main characters. So a police procedural, based around a NSW Homicide Detective Sergeant and a newspaper journalist. No sweat. Fine. The two characters, who first met in Black River, have now known each other for two years, have formed a bond, and, well, off we go. Except, what I had given myself was running orders - write a police procedural with your cop and your journo - rather than an idea. What to do? I wasn't sure. I rang a forensic pathologist who had been very kind, and very helpful, and very generous with his time and knowledge when I was writing Black River. "I'm writing another book," I said to the pathologist. "What are we going to do?" "I dunno. You're the f---ing novelist," he said. Mmmm. This was unhelpfully true. Then, immediately, he said, and I paraphrase, "Oh, if I wanted to murder someone, and have someone like me not know that I'd done it, this is what I'd do." On the phone, I think I probably sat up a little straighter. Talk about all ears. And he told me what he'd do, to commit a murder, that would stymie a forensic pathologist examining the corpse post-mortem. And that became "my" idea, the bedrock for my second novel Broke Road. (No spoilers, but it involves binding, gagging, the way certain materials might interact with skin.) And it's strange how it worked. How having a bare-bones idea gave me the confidence to start writing the novel, and how everything fanned out from it: place, character, plot, the burgeoning relationship between the cop and the journo. MORE GREAT READS: Because the basic idea of how to kill someone didn't tell me anything else: it didn't tell me who died, or who killed them, or where, or why, or whether anyone else may have been killed in the same manner. That all came later, flowing out from the first throb. Broke Road skits around, geographically, from Canberra to Murrumbateman to Adelaide to Sydney. But its heart lies north of Cessnock, in the lower Hunter Valley, at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. The Hunter had always interested me, starting with its geology: the Triassic cliffs of the ranges, the coal measures laid down, the patches of weathered, volcanic soil that attracted our nation's first vignerons. Coal and wine, both industries the result of what lies beneath - in this case - a Permian swamp. All of which led to the mining town of Cessnock, and the wine district just to its north. What interested me here, was how these two worlds remain so distinct, how Cessnock has stood aloof and refused to re-fashion itself as a centre for the wine tourists. That's where Broke Road is set, between these two communities, neighbours standing apart. With my first novel, I was in my comfort zone, geographically. I was writing about my childhood home - the big old boarding school in the book is a real place, The King's School at North Parramatta, and it's where I grew up, the son of teachers. With Broke Road and the Hunter, I was well out of my depth, and certainly stretching myself. Which is good as a writer, I think (I hope). I fell back on my journalism, and did some research. I twice travelled the Hunter with a journalist friend who knows the region well. We sampled some wares, and he introduced me around. I went back several times on my own. I spoke to locals in Cessnock, winemakers in Pokolbin (and another in Murrumbateman), a forensic investigator and a forensic pathologist in Newcastle, a former homicide detective, a geologist in Maitland, a property developer, a local council manager, a politician, a builder, a ceramics teacher, a urologist, a pilot. The pilot character got cut, but the rest is all in there, threaded through Broke Road's plots and people and sense of place. I hope I've done it all justice, so that, most important of all, readers can enjoy. Novels, so I'm told, don't arrive to their authors fully formed, with plots or stories presenting themselves, ready to be jotted down on a whiteboard. A novel arrives to a novelist as an idea, often very simple, but at the same time distinct: the idea will have a certain heft and feel to it. Nabokov described it as a throb. I didn't know any of this, until I read the late novelist Martin Amis writing about how to write fiction. I read this soon after I'd left my job as a journalist after 20 years, and Amis describing Nabokov's throb gave me an idea: I could write my own novel - because I had an idea at least. My idea was simple. A crime had been committed at a big, old boy's boarding school, and a journalist who had grown up at the school 30 years ago, the son of teachers who had lived on the grounds, was sent out to report on the police investigation. That was it. I didn't even know what the crime was. But the idea became my debut novel Black River, published in 2022 by Allen & Unwin. Following Black River, I planned to write another novel, with the same main characters. So a police procedural, based around a NSW Homicide Detective Sergeant and a newspaper journalist. No sweat. Fine. The two characters, who first met in Black River, have now known each other for two years, have formed a bond, and, well, off we go. Except, what I had given myself was running orders - write a police procedural with your cop and your journo - rather than an idea. What to do? I wasn't sure. I rang a forensic pathologist who had been very kind, and very helpful, and very generous with his time and knowledge when I was writing Black River. "I'm writing another book," I said to the pathologist. "What are we going to do?" "I dunno. You're the f---ing novelist," he said. Mmmm. This was unhelpfully true. Then, immediately, he said, and I paraphrase, "Oh, if I wanted to murder someone, and have someone like me not know that I'd done it, this is what I'd do." On the phone, I think I probably sat up a little straighter. Talk about all ears. And he told me what he'd do, to commit a murder, that would stymie a forensic pathologist examining the corpse post-mortem. And that became "my" idea, the bedrock for my second novel Broke Road. (No spoilers, but it involves binding, gagging, the way certain materials might interact with skin.) And it's strange how it worked. How having a bare-bones idea gave me the confidence to start writing the novel, and how everything fanned out from it: place, character, plot, the burgeoning relationship between the cop and the journo. MORE GREAT READS: Because the basic idea of how to kill someone didn't tell me anything else: it didn't tell me who died, or who killed them, or where, or why, or whether anyone else may have been killed in the same manner. That all came later, flowing out from the first throb. Broke Road skits around, geographically, from Canberra to Murrumbateman to Adelaide to Sydney. But its heart lies north of Cessnock, in the lower Hunter Valley, at a fictional flyspeck called Red Creek, in the wine country around Pokolbin. The Hunter had always interested me, starting with its geology: the Triassic cliffs of the ranges, the coal measures laid down, the patches of weathered, volcanic soil that attracted our nation's first vignerons. Coal and wine, both industries the result of what lies beneath - in this case - a Permian swamp. All of which led to the mining town of Cessnock, and the wine district just to its north. What interested me here, was how these two worlds remain so distinct, how Cessnock has stood aloof and refused to re-fashion itself as a centre for the wine tourists. That's where Broke Road is set, between these two communities, neighbours standing apart. With my first novel, I was in my comfort zone, geographically. I was writing about my childhood home - the big old boarding school in the book is a real place, The King's School at North Parramatta, and it's where I grew up, the son of teachers. With Broke Road and the Hunter, I was well out of my depth, and certainly stretching myself. Which is good as a writer, I think (I hope). I fell back on my journalism, and did some research. I twice travelled the Hunter with a journalist friend who knows the region well. We sampled some wares, and he introduced me around. I went back several times on my own. I spoke to locals in Cessnock, winemakers in Pokolbin (and another in Murrumbateman), a forensic investigator and a forensic pathologist in Newcastle, a former homicide detective, a geologist in Maitland, a property developer, a local council manager, a politician, a builder, a ceramics teacher, a urologist, a pilot. The pilot character got cut, but the rest is all in there, threaded through Broke Road's plots and people and sense of place. I hope I've done it all justice, so that, most important of all, readers can enjoy.
