If you haven’t realised yet, this June, we are leaning in to our love of Australian fiction! We could wax lyrical on this topic until the end of time, but we are attempting to restrain ourselves by limiting the focus to books published this century. But even within those parameters, there are a lot of books our team are excited to recommend!
So here is part two of Readings booksellers’ Australian fiction favourites (of the 21st century) – you can find part one here, and there'll be more coming on our blog and socials throughout June.
Danielle Mirabella on
Dusk by Robbie Arnott
Historical fiction told with contemporary vigour, Dusk is a sublime Australian novel. Set in the harsh wilderness of the Tasmanian highlands, twins Iris and Floyd join a mismatched, gruesome bunch of characters on the hunt for the bounty of a wild puma known as Dusk.
Atmospheric with hints of mysticism, Robbie Arnott’s storytelling is unique. Landscape features heavily as a character and as the novel unfolds with an addictive unease, the reader is drawn into the rhythm of the story, which mirrors the movements of the big cat at its centre. With an ending that is near-perfect, Dusk is Arnott’s best novel yet.
Mark Rubbo on
Cold Enough for Snow by Jessica Au
There are so many Australian books that I have liked, but if you put me on the spot and force me to nominate one, it would have to be Jessica Au’s Cold Enough for Snow. It’s a book that creates feelings, experiences.
A mother and a daughter travel to Japan; they’ve not spent much time together and the trip is the daughter’s idea, one that’s reluctantly agreed to. They visit galleries, eat, walk and have interesting experiences while at the same time testing their interests, memories and relationship. The book is less than 100 pages but after reading it, it feels so much more substantial. While the details, as I write this, are dim, the book lives with me as an experience, as a journey that I’ve been on. It is very beautifully constructed, gentle and thoughtful. Nothing much, in a dramatic sense, happens, yet it resonates. A testament to this is that it is one of our top-selling novels of all time and four years after publication it still finds new readers.
Nico Callaghan on
Shadowboxing by Tony Birch
There is something quietly devastating about Shadowboxing, and perhaps that devastation emerges precisely from Tony Birch’s refusal to overstate. First published in 2006, the book remains one of the finest depictions of working-class Melbourne in contemporary Australian literature. It is unsentimental and fragmentary, but deeply humane. Across its interconnected stories, Birch evokes childhood not as nostalgia, but as a condition marked as much by violence as fleeting moments of tenderness.
What distinguishes the book for me is its emotional precision. Birch writes with remarkable restraint, allowing brutality and vulnerability to coexist without simplification. For instance, the father at the centre of the collection is terrifying, but never rendered as merely monstrous. Instead, he emerges from cycles of grief and inherited damage that the book observes with painful clarity. Yet Shadowboxing is not without warmth. Running through it is an enduring faith in people, books and memory.
I think Birch should be regarded as having expanded the possibilities of Australian literary fiction in the 21st century, however quietly and modestly: grounding large cultural historical shifts within an intimate, local, deeply lived experience.
Elke Power on
The Other Side of the World by Stephanie Bishop
We are fortunate to have an incredible wealth of brilliant writers in Australia and there are many whose books I will evangelically recommend. However, among the writers who have given me impending-canon chills early in their careers are Stephanie Bishop with The Other Side of the World and Jennifer Down with Our Magic Hour. Melbourne-based, Miles Franklin-winning Down should need no introduction, but anyone with an interest in Australian literature – or literary fiction of any kind exploring nostalgia, identity, or belonging – please read The Other Side of the World. It is exquisite and unforgettable.
Lian Hingee on
Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks
Geraldine Brooks won the Pulitzer Prize for her sophomore novel March, but it’s Year of Wonders that I return to again and again. Set during the Great Plague of London, this brilliant historical novel fictionalises the true story of the people of Eyam, who made the decision to quarantine their village for over a year rather than risk spreading the plague to their neighbours. I most recently reread this book during the 2020 pandemic lockdowns in Victoria, and it was such a timely and vivid reminder of the power of community action and the importance of holding on to your humanity when the world is collapsing around you.
Nicki Levy on
Tenderfoot by Toni Jordan
There is so much to connect with in this gentle and personal book by Toni Jordan. To be absorbed in Jordan’s world gives us an opportunity to think about our own childhood journey and reflect on how it shaped us into adults. How did we prove ourselves when entering an adult world and what parts of ourselves did we leave behind in childhood?
This fictional account of a young girl in 1970s Queensland reads much like a memoir and is full of the kinds of wonderful stories and moments that create a fully drawn character. We follow young Andie around her small world of home, school, and the greyhound track. We live with her through her preoccupation with school friendships, her love of greyhounds, and family upheavals. Throughout it all, we love her for her strong will and determination.
Bernard Caleo on
Soft Serve by George Kemp
Bushfires are blazing, closing in on an Australian country town. Three kids in their early 20s/late teens converge on the McDonald’s to conduct a shambolic annual ceremony – raising soft serve ice creams 'To Taz', in memory of their beloved mate. But Fern’s in silent love with Ethan, and Ethan is in silent love with Jacob. And Taz’s still-shattered mum, Pam, is behind the counter. Outside, the fire roars towards them.
You can trace George Kemp’s background as an actor and playwright in this, his first novel: the McDonald’s as a banal and sacred theatre set, an altar for this pyre of friendship and flirtation, kissing and loss. You can visualise this story on stage: a tight ensemble cast performing in front of looming golden arches, with narratives of grief, desire, dreams and memory bursting out of each character like songs – strong and confused, desperate and lonely. It’s wonderful, melancholy, haunted stuff.
Melanie Barton on
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
It’s hard to nail down just one Australian fiction favourite, but I think for me it would have to be The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak – though it has been over 20 years since I first read it. It’s essentially about the Second World War, but at its heart it's about words and the power of language, and a little girl called Liesel who forms a beautiful friendship with Max, a Jewish man who is hiding in the basement.
This book is a masterclass in writing. Zusak has crafted it with a very unlikely narrator, and it is teeming with wonderful characters. It packs an emotional punch and, like all the best books, it changes you and your view of the world.
Keep an eye on The Readings Blog throughout June for more Australian fiction recommendations from our booksellers!
