- 'a professor who would admit to having once read an Australian novel...' cheap shot; cliched. In fact Australian literature seems not to be read by anyone. Which is manifestly untrue.
- more cliched Australianisms: 'Vegemite toast'; Milo;
- 'big juicy kangaroo steaks'. FFS!
- 'monolingual Australians'
- page 50 and I'm finding this book exquisitely boring. The characters aren't interesting at all. Nothing is happening.
- elements of quirkiness aren't enough. How about a few deaths? A tragedy? Some violence? An unexpected suicide? Anything to get this thing going.
- Ash and Cassie become far more interesting but then, without real reason, they split up. Very little emotional depth to their characters.
- the author seems anti-Australian and pro-Sri Lankan, pro-European. The constant putting down of Australian life and suburbia is so predictable and tired.
- 'It was a wayward sort of Sunday with a trembly blue sky'. (p.112). ?? The constant choice of inappropriate words simply because they sound edgy and poetic.
- so many minor characters introduced to 'paint' a life. But it makes very tedious reading.
- Bailing on page 112.
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