Each week we bring you a sample of the books we’re reading, the films we’re watching, the television shows we’re hooked on or the music we’re loving.

Amy Vuleta is reading Liam Pieper and Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Last weekend I had the pleasure of co-hosting one of our New Australian Fiction sessions at the Melbourne Writers Festival.

I chatted to Laura Elizabeth Woollett about her collection of stories, The Love of a Bad Man. Each of the stories in this collection are narrated from the perspective of a woman who is romantically entwined with a notorious, famous, or infamous ‘bad man’ from our recent history: Hitler, Charles Manson, Jim Jones, the Lonely Hearts killer, the brother of Clyde Barrow of Bonnie and Clyde fame, and so on. Woollett express the interior lives of these women with such a strongly resolved sense of their voices. The stories stand up perfectly on their own, and also come together to create a cohesive whole.

Woollett is a new writer of immense talent and narrative poise – I can’t recommend her collection enough. It is disturbing and dark, yet measured and quiet, and it surprised me in so many ways.

Our session at the Festival also featured a conversation between my colleague, Dave Little, and author Liam Pieper. Pieper’s newest novel, The Toymaker, is set in contemporary Melbourne and Europe during WWII. Their discussion touched on issues of accountability and witness, choice and privilege, masculinity and familial legacy. I was inspired to read this novel and am so glad that I picked it up!

I’ve read the first chapter so far and have laughed at every page. The central character in the contemporary Melbourne storyline is detestable and self-deprecating in the most satisfying of ways, and Pieper’s construction and pacing of characterisation and flow at the sentence and paragraph level is remarkable. I can’t wait to read on.

Ed. note: We’re hosting two more New Australian Fiction sessions at Melbourne Writers Festival this weekend – find details

Bronte Coates is reading The Schooldays of Jesus by J.M. Coetzee

This week I’ve started reading The Schooldays of Jesus, J.M. Coetzee’s sequel to The Childhood of Jesus. This novel has recently been longlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and as a result, Text Publishing have released it earlier than expected.

If you haven’t read Childhood, you might find yourself a bit lost with Schooldays. The story picks up almost directly where the last left off – with the young, strong-willed David and his makeshift parents, Simón and Ines, having just fled Novilla – and while there are allusions to the events of book one, they are unspecific and veiled.

Upon their arrival in Estrella, Simón and Ines take on work in a vineyard. Anxious to avoid drawing the authorities’ attention to David, they end up enrolling him in an exclusive dance academy that specialises in ‘the training of the soul through music’. This strange, philosophical, fable-like story draw obvious parallels with Christian mythology (particular Luke’s Gospel) and David is the Christ-like figures at its heart – though Coetzee’s depiction is unlike any other you’ve read. Rather, it’s decidedly ‘Coetzeean’. Coetzee is always eloquent and provocative and even though his books often leave me feeling cold, they’re also deeply compelling. I’m looking forward to finishing this one over the weekend.

Nina Kenwood is listening to My Dad Wrote a Porno

This is a podcast recommendation, and it’s also a future book recommendation, because the team behind this hugely successful podcast have scored a book deal: My Dad Wrote a Porno (the book) is due out in November.

The title of the podcast is pretty self-explanatory – Jamie Morton reads aloud the self-published erotic novel his father wrote and released as an ebook. Jamie is joined by his two friends, Alice and James, and three of them provide hilarious commentary alongside the reading of the book.

The erotic novel in question is titled Belinda Blinked, and it’s truly, unbelievably, horrifyingly awful. It’s possibly the least sexy erotic novel on earth, and Jamie, James and Alice alternative between fits of laughter, gasps of horror and genuine bewilderment (with Jamie having the extra shame of knowing his father wrote this book).

I have never laughed so much at a podcast. I am quite certain people on my commute must think I am very strange, because I am regularly collapsing into a fit of giggles as I listen. The book is very explicit at times (I find myself taking off my headphones when I’m on the train and doubling checking no one can hear what I’m listening to) so be warned if you sensitive about ‘erotic’ language.

I really can’t recommend this podcast highly enough though – listen to every episode, and then buy the book as a Christmas gift for yourself.