'Wish me Gone' by D.J. Blackmore

Up close, the heritage listed house is nothing but a beautiful disaster, but while there are acres of orange trees to lose herself amongst, Isabella realises there’s no escaping the new school. But when intolerance towards Damaska and her family—whom Isabella’s family has hired to help—opens the homestead gates, the threat to both families becomes real. Four lives in Australia become intertwined by one orchard, as they all try to find a place they call home.

MY THOUGHTS:

It's always a pleasure to pick up a novel from my own country, and this one is as Australian as fairy cakes, charred lamb chops and Weetbix with hot milk (which all feature in the story, by the way). 

Isabella Lawson and her family are moving to a wonderful, but run-down rural property with a lush orange orchard. Her mother, Jenny, falls in love with it on the spot, but to her stepfather, Chase, it's a bit of a nightmare. Meanwhile Isabella's brother Abel, an electrical technician in the army, is learning to wrap his head around his new lifestyle. And a young Muslim woman named Damaska is migrating to Australia with her family, although her grandmother (Jida) faces change with heartache, since her beloved old ways fit her like a glove. 

Characters are so colourful and varied, it's hard to choose a favourite. It could be Chase, the stepfather who's quick with his dad jokes but will also go the extra mile for his family; or Abel, the young man who's forced in the position to cement for real the army principles he recites; or Damaska, the young woman who attracts unwanted attention, and is forced to deal with difficult generational clashes, in a strange new culture to boot. I also like Isabella, the fair-minded, capable student prepared to make the best of the hand she's dealt. But perhaps my favourite is Megan, the octogenarian whose uniquely Aussie sense of humour, combining bluntness and kindness, smooths many ruffled feathers.

I'm impressed by how boldly and effectively D.J. Blackmore tackles racism, sexism, ageism, ableism, bullying and religious discrimination head on, all within this 250 page novel. Especially considering our hair trigger 21st century cancel culture, where accusations of cultural appropriation tend to blow up before we know it. Yet this story is utterly true to life, highlighting the melting pot of different outlooks and backgrounds that form Australia. Her small rural community is a microcosm of the whole country, which is a slice of the world. 

I've got to say, this story imparts a sense of New South Wales, which I've only visited a handful of times in my life. I'm a South Aussie, and minor differences show. For some reason it also puts me in mind of the beloved old TV soapie A Country Practice, possibly because of the NSW location, although this novel is far more up-to-date. 

I don't read many contemporary novels that focus on High School students as main characters anymore, but whenever I do, I notice the addition of modern technology, which always thickens the plot. A couple of mobile phones get damaged in the course of the novel, and I suspect Jida's probably right to refer to them as the line which gives the outside world a chance to infiltrate. A shortsighted character in many ways, she's spot on there.   

What more can I say? Short chapters make for easy, flowing reading. There are 67 in the book! It's a celebration of Aussie lore which I love, but if you're not familiar with it, keep your phone close at hand to google a strange colloquialism when you need to. For my part, I love how stories like this emphasise our vibrant, fun, distinctive culture. The dialogue is a key part of the story, revealing the chasms between communication of different characters. But overall, forgiveness and generosity are a universal language.      

My thanks to the author for sending me this book for an honest review.

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