By Eliza Henry-Jones
ELIZA HENRY-JONES was 25 years old when her debut novel, In the Quiet, was published in 2015. It was shortlisted for the 2015 Readings Prize for New Australian Fiction and the NSW Premier's Award, and longlisted for the Australian Book Industry Awards and Indie Book Awards. She has qualifications in psychology and grief, loss and trauma counselling, and lives in the Dandenong Ranges with her husband and "too many" animals. Her latest novel, Ache (HarperCollins), is set in the wake of a terrible bushfire.
DRESSES OF RED AND GOLD
Robin Klein
I read this beautiful book (and the other two in the series) when I was 11. Each is a collection of interlinked short stories that revolves around three sisters in rural Australia during the 1940s. When I was young, I read it for its sweetness and the way it portrayed growing up. As an adult, I appreciate the way Klein subtly deals with gender, privilege and what it means to belong to a small community.
CLOUDSTREET
Tim Winton
My mother gave me a signed copy of Cloudstreet to read when I was 14. I remember being enchanted by the language; by the way the story seemed to breathe as the old house breathed. I loved the magical realism; the way the families felt both familiar and unknown. I loved the celebration of life and place and how this celebration could exist alongside such sadness and uncertainty.
THE MONKEY'S MASK
Dorothy Porter
Reading The Monkey's Mask as a 19-year-old was a revelation. A crime novel written entirely in verse, I thought the poetry might not carry the narrative. I was very wrong. This book completely changed how I thought about storytelling and made me reconsider the idea of poetry and prose as being separate.
FOAL'S BREAD
Gillian Mears
Mears' searing and captivating story of the high jump horse circuit in the first half of the 19th century was an emotional read for me. Horses have always been a huge part of my life, but it was the first time I'd read something that dealt with horses, so beautifully, alongside such dark veins of trauma and grief. It haunted my dreams and left me with a deep longing for something I couldn't articulate.