Looking for a sense of safety when even dreams can be dangerous
By Sue Turnbull
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Echo, $29.99
It may be a coincidence. Two psycho-thrillers by two of Australia’s most interesting next-gen crime writers featuring an unreliable female narrator whose professional standards are slipping. While men writing from a female perspective is hardly new: “Madame Bovary, c’est moi,” said Flaubert, and Stieg Larsson launched a tsunami of somewhere-on-the-spectrum, ass-kicking Lisbeth Salander wannabes, these new books clearly invite debate about trends in the gender politics of crime fiction today.
J.P. Pomare’s third novel started life as an audio book.