Trent Dalton’s latest glorious novel could come with a warning: life does not stop just because you are reading. There is work to do and family to tend to, and exercises that must be done – and have you called your parents? Noah, the narrator of this story, is a true-crime journalist, and he has been handed the story of a lifetime. The first clue was left in his letterbox, and he followed more until he uncovered the body, but not the killer. It did not stop him from writing it all up, but that is not all this novel is about. Describing it is almost impossible, but here is my attempt.

Take Noah’s world and wrap it tightly in a marriage set in Jubilee, Brisbane. Add in show tunes and mosh pits, nods to Dorothy on the yellow brick road, and skeletons both real and imagined – and then drive in the knife with a scary yet equal amount of ambition and dread. You will fall in love with Noah’s daughters and the love of his life, Rita, and you will wish that Noah would just slow down and enjoy all the good that Brisbane has to offer: that sky, those neighbours … Truly, in this novel, we need Noah to unravel.

I could pick Dalton’s writing from a mile away. It’s revealed in the kindness of the detail, the musical references (this novel comes with a playlist), and the ode to the Australian climate. It is about the pace of the writing, and the desire for each word to mean more in company than on its own. Trent Dalton’s storytelling is vivid, rapid, and soaring. It reminds me of the track by Green Day called ‘Jesus of Suburbia’.

Note: there are more clues in that song about this crime novel than there are in this review. (And there are many clues in this review!)