Melissa Lucashenko, Too Much Lip

- This is an extraordinarily powerful novel, full of fascinating indigenous characters, all with personality and depth, and vivid fuck/cunt dialogue. This could really win the Miles Franklin this year. It's that good. It’s on the shortlist. 

- It’s a very raw and gritty story of an extended indigenous family and their historical and current travails and traumas, set in the fictional town of Durrongo (get it?) in northern NSW. (Yes, there is plenty of leavening humour, which is sorely needed, as this is not an easy read. It's frequently harsh and merciless).

- The family members, who've been in and out of prison numerous times, full of hatred of the while colonials, are often at each other’s throats, constantly swigging alcohol and screaming abuse. They are full of charm and character one moment, and recalling physical and sexual abuse the next. It's a searing, harsh portrait of an aboriginal mob, and Lucashenko holds nothing back. Her portrayal is utterly unsentimental.

- We spend a lot of time with the youngest daughter Kerry, who is the central character. She’s a feisty, angry, full-on fighter. A wonderful creation. Her older brother Ken, a violent, angry man virtually loathes her. Their animosity literally burns every page.

- There are corrupt local council officials and developers planning to build a prison on sacred aboriginal land. Prior ownership rights are obviously and cynically ignored. The family wants to go to war. 

- Unfortunately the ending disappoints. It’s all a bit 'happily ever after', and doesn’t reflect the character of the novel as a whole. There needed to be an element of tragedy and immense sadness. There were opportunities for that but Lucashenko shies away. The death of the family dog just doesn't cut it. 

- Nevertheless this is an intense and immensely satisfying read. It's just so damn good, and if it wins the Miles Franklin it will thoroughly deserve it. It should have won this year's Stella Prize by a long shot.