Best Illustrated Book in Australia Nominees, Part 2

I wanted to attach these lovely covers to my last post, but Blogger was being mischievous this morning, so I gave up. Hopefully it will behave now. These are the five nominations for the Australian Book Industry's (ABIA) Best Illustrated Book in Australia award, as per the last post. These are all beautiful books, so I do hope you'll pick them up next time you're in a bookstore.

I'm so, so thrilled to be included in this prestigious bunch of authors. I don't mind if I don't win. It's just lovely to be considered.

Lastly, a thousand apologies for not being active on the blog of late. It's been an intense few weeks for us. We bought a tiny investment property last week – a little Georgian house – so I've been running around doing the paperwork. (We ummed and ahhed for ages over a little terrace house in South Yarra. But the house was so tiny it wasn't worth the eye-poppingly high price. And RR and I would have had to share a workspace together – and you KNOW how damaging that can be for marriages!) I've also had to finish writing the Picnic book, and get ready to go to New York late next week. For a moment, I thought I might also have to fly to LA and Paris (today) for a week of work, but the idea of flying around the world four times in one month was making me ill. So I stubbornly stayed home. I know! How can a girl turn down Paris? Must be crazy...

But I promise to reply to your beautiful notes soon – and can't wait to catch up on everyone's blogs next week. It will be a lovely respite from sitting in Sydney airport thinking about 18 hours to NY in an economy seat...

Best Illustrated Book in Australia Nominees

I'm often told by my lovely publishers that I'm not as enthusiastic about self-publicity as I should be. This is because I've always thought that authors should not have to speak for books. If books are beautiful enough, they should speak for themselves. Authors are really the behind-the-scenes people; the wizards pulling the curtains for the Land of Oz that is literature.

In saying that, it's easy to understand that people like to get to know the names behind the titles. I confess to following the blog of Justine Picardie, who seems to be as much of a lovely person as she is a great writer. And if Hemingway were alive and he had time to pen one, between fishing in Key West, punching out bestsellers and bedding beautiful women, I'd been following him too! I've also been slightly awed when I've had the good fortune to meet writers such as Jan Morris, Frederick Forsyth, Jeffrey Archer, AA Gill, Herbert Ypma, and Bill Bryson. (I interviewed the latter in his South Kensington flat: when I arrived at the open front door he was derriere-up, cleaning the bath. I've always liked an multi-tasking author!) Another writer friend told me she was similarly open-mouthed when she met J.D. Salinger. (Her mother neglected to tell her she'd been having a weekly luncheon with his wife for 20 years.) For the most part, authors adore meeting other authors – especially if The Other Author is stupendously famous and rolling in royalty cheques. (That's when we ask what their secret is.) Authors also adore seeing good books achieve success, even when those books belong to publishing houses that may be their competitors. The publishing world is not a hockey game. It is actually rather civilised. Why is why I've always liked it. (And hated those who play dirty within it.)

The Australian Book Industry Awards (ABIA) are the Oscars of publishing in Australia. It's where
a panel of long-time booksellers and publishers judge and nominate their favourite books each year. I always take a peek at what's nominated, because it's always intriguing to see which books are pricking up people's ears. It's also intriguing to see which books are in the Best Illustrated Book category, as these books are often the most beautifully designed.

This year, it was a huge surprise to receive an email from my former publisher, Mary Small of Pan Macmillan/Plum letting me know that my book Paris: A Guide to the City's Creative Heart has been nominated. It's the first big industry award I've ever been nominated for, after 6 years and 18 books, so I was both touched and thrilled to hear the news. In fact, just as when my friend met J.D. Salinger, I was quite speechless with shock! The winners are announced at the Sydney Writer's Festival next week, when we're in New York. But I don't mind if I don't win. It's just lovely to be considered...

Here are some of the other nominees – and a link to the full PDF here. And here are some of the pages from Paris: A Guide to the City's Creative Heart. Oh – and if, like me, you love illustrated coffee-table books, then I'd like to let you know that I'm working on a gorgeous New York book this month, and then a beautiful new Paris book in June. Will give more details here in coming weeks.

Best of luck to all those nominated for the ABIA Awards! I'm really thrilled for all those authors.

Buying a House in France ... For A Pittance

A few years ago, I sat next to a lovely woman on the Eurostar from Paris to London. She was Scottish but worked as a French/English translator in Paris. We were the same age and had shared similar lives. I liked her immediately. I liked her even more when she told me where she lived. She and her French husband had just purchased a castle in Normandy, she said. They'd bought it three months before, for the same price as their two-bedroom apartment in the Bastille area of Paris. She was still incredulous. "May I ask how much?" I politely enquired. €300,000, she replied, still delighted by the price. Then she told me the extras. A carriage house, a gate house, a grand estate of 10 acres, stables, a parterre garden and river frontage too. Okay, so it was a little run-down, but they'd bought a hammer and drill too. All this for the equivalent of $380,000 Australian dollars. You can't buy a smart apartment in Melbourne for $380,000, let alone a chateau with a charming carriage house.

As the train rumbled along, I thought of the A$400,000 I'd sold my one-bedroom apartment in South Yarra for the year before. I thought of the building, and how a prostitute had moved in next door. And then I thought of the chateau, with the gatehouse and estate. Thinking of these stark difference in property prices between France and Australia made me sick for the rest of the trip.

I would have forgotten this amazing story but for a couple we met the other day. They own a store in High Street, Glen Iris. My partner and I were window-shopping for an investment property in the area when I noticed they'd arranged their window display around one of my French books. So I thought I'd pop in to thank them and say hello. We chatted for almost half an hour. They revealed they were only doing "the retail thing" for another year, and then they were off to France to buy a little chateau. "You can pick them up for a pittance!" said the gentleman. The sentence was starting to have a familiar ring.

I'm not going to tell you the conversation my partner and I had in the car on the way home, but I think it had the word 'pittance' in it about ten times. And there were exclamation marks too. Lots of them. "French chateau' and "pittance" in the same sentence has a lovely ring to it, don't you think?

Intrigued, I trawled the Internet tonight, looking for chateaux of my own. I have a little money. I thought I'd see what I could buy.  This is what I found. I tell you, it was lust at first shutter. Even if it's derelict, it still beats a call girl yelling out her clients' names at half-hourly intervals right next door.

Now my partner's already set his heart on relocating elsewhere. He hadn't thought of France as a potential home.  He doesn't even like wine. So it might be an uphill climb to get him to reconsider a little chateau. But looking at these makes me wonder if we're looking for property in all the wrong places?


(PS The manor above, which is also described / pictured below, has had a price reduction from 492,900 Euros to 430,000 Euros. Bargain, I say.)

MANOIR / MINI CHATEAU, NORMANDY

Manor house / mini chateau set in mature grounds, also suitable for business such as a boutique hotel. 5 bedrooms, 8 acres of land, views over the valley, landscaped gardens, bluebell wood, stables, heated swimming pool. Price reduction from €492,900 to €430,000 (Euros). (A$547,000)

HISTORIC PRIORY, NORMANDY

Historic 18th century priory set in its own 8,000m2 (2 acres) park in a small village. 8 bedrooms, each with ensuite, large kitchen, scullery and landry room, and 2 salons with views over the garden. Also comes with attractive outbuildings, including stone built barns, two of which have recently been re-roofed, which could provide further development potential. €655,500 Euros / $A830,000.

HISTORIC PRIORY #2, NORMANDY

Historic 18th Century Priory, built on the site of a 14th-century monastery, located on an elevated position overlooking its outbuildings, houses and land. Also comes with a 3 bedroom detached house, formal gardens, and agricultural land, which is rented to a local farmer. €659,000.

And a few more, all of them within "a pittance" budget. I like the middle one. But I'd be happy with the last one too.

Why We're Suddenly Lusting After Sex Novels

Remember the novel The Bride Stripped Bare? It was Nikki Gemmell' literary tour de force, originally published under the nom de plume 'Anonymous' because its chapters were too scandalous for the author to admit to.

Bride was a huge bestseller. Huge. Women read it under their duvet covers. Men read it on commuter trains, where they hid it behind a big hard Hemingway hardback. Even grandmothers were seen sneaking into libraries and borrowing it out with their copies of Danielle Steel. It was dubbed as "an intelligent and accomplished exploration of female sexuality". Exploration was right. There was a scene with taxi drivers that was so revelatory, it made me question what cabbies do when they're not, er, picking up rides.

Basically, the plot is about a lonely housewife with a desultory sex life. The new hubbie is lovely, but boring. And his bed skills are less than satisfactory. That's the thing when you marry Boy-Next-Door types. You sacrifice the erotic for the safe; the dangerous risk-taker for the trustworthy do-gooder. Anyhow, The Housewife grows bored with vanilla sex and sets out to find something pulsier. That's when she meets The Spanish Guy Who's Still A Virgin. (There's an oxymoron right there). From then on, she proceeds to educate him  in – you guessed it – the art of pleasure. To use a ladylike word. There are hotel rooms, orgies, taxi drivers and what one critic described as "erotic, Houellebecqean-style encounters". (I'm not sure what that means but I think I'll have some if they're on special, thanks.)

Now I have to confess that I liked the book. I did. It was entertaining. Fresh. And clever. (Although I still can't look taxi drivers in the eye.)

Basically the novel was a watered-down Catherine Millet. Sex for respectable readers, if you like. And because of it, the book sold hundreds of thousands of copies. It also spawned a whole new genre. Whose name I won't reveal here. (Just think of the nickname for knee-high boots and then insert 'books' where the word 'boots' should go.)

Unbelievably, it's been 9 years since Bride was published, and even more curiously, it's been a while since a good, old-fashioned sex novel hit the bookshelves. So it was only a matter of time before one was thrust into the bestseller lists. So to speak.

Enter Fifty Shades of Grey. Written by E.L. James,  this book is everywhere at the moment. EVERYWHERE. If you haven't seen it advertised, you've perhaps been hiding under that 1000-thread-count sheet too long. Tantilized by the marketing I bought a copy on the weekend. I read 252 pages in one evening. The prose was so dense though, that at 2AM I had to put it down and go find a Nurofen.

The writing isn't on a level with F.Scott Fitzgerald – it's probably not even on a par with Playboy. In fact, some of the sentences are so breathy and overwrought, it made me feel 16 years old again. Also, if you're going to write a book about sex – an adult books about sex – for goodness sakes use some proper words. Using the word 'sex' for a woman's private parts is about as amateurish as you can get.  I mean, we're no longer eight years old. I think we can handle a dirty word or two.

In saying this, it's interesting that this book has caused such a storm. Like Bride, it's hit a nerve with women everywhere. Female readers are devouring it, and only coming up for air when they've turned the last page. It says a lot for the sad state of our collective sex lives that we have to get our kicks from literature rather than real life!

The thing is, I like a good debate. And I love it when literature prompts it. I'm particularly excited that the current debate is over sex, and how much it really does mean to women. But what I don't get excited about, so to speak, is a book where the main female protagonist is forced to be submissive. I know it's a fantasy of many, but this book takes it a whole new level. And it's not one I care to go down to.

I finished the book dear readers, but only just. And then I had to go and have a cold shower. Not to calm the palpitating heart, but to feel clean and 'normal' again. Fifty Shades of Grey is certainly grey. In fact, it's as grubby as a dirty, thumb-stained girlie magazine in the communal toilets of an all-boys' boarding school.

There are apparently two more books in the Grey series. But I think I'll pass thanks. If you've read it, do drop me a line to let me know what you thought. I'd be interested to hear!


{Images of brides stripping bare by by Renam Christofoletti for Vogue Brazil Brides}

The Hermés School of Decorating

Remember a few years ago when everybody was painting their walls Tiffany Blue? (Which Tiffany trademarked by the way.) So many people became obsessed with the delicate turquoise colour of the famous New York jewellery house that Tiffany Blue was EVERYWHERE. There were even weddings that were themed according to the colour scheme, complete with Tiffany Blue table decorations and Tiffany Blue bridesmaids.

Well the trend for Tiffany has finally abated. And in its place is a new school of colour thought. One inspired by the House of Hermés. Yes, that's right. We are all heading towards an Orange Horizon.

The always-gorgeous Faux Fuchsia emailed me recently to tell me she has just painted a buffet in bright orange. And you know that if Miss Fuchsia is doing it, the rest of us will soon follow. (I can imagine how glam it looks. FF could make a hard rubbish find look like a treasure from a Sotheby's sale.)

So, inspired by the creatives who are heading up The Orange Brigade, I thought I'd post some images of this vibrant and lovely summer colour, so redolent of Hermés' signature shade. Personally, I've become a paid-up convert to The Tangerine Gang. I bought an orange handbag from Sambag the other day. I tell you, it was love at first handle.

THE HERMES-INSPIRED HOLD-ALL

My new handbag by Sambag. So pretty, I'm almost afraid to use it. NB I would have loved to have bought an Hermés Kelly. But sadly, I don't believe in spending more than $300 on a handbag. Which rules me out of purchasing anything with 'Kelly' in the name. And I don't have the courage to buy one of those perfect counterfeits from China either. (Shhh – who said that word??!)

THE HERMES-INSPIRED CAMERA

Oh, be still my beating photographer's heart. I think this little Leica could quite possibly be one of the sexiest cameras ever created. Wrapped up in a cute orange cover, it makes me nostalgic for the days when cameras were, un-hem, more retro, and far less complicated. I love it. Imagine whipping this out in Paris? Or Miami? Or the Caribbean? Trust Leica to come up with a covetable little model like this. {Via Leica}

THE HERMES-INSPIRED CAMERA BAG

And this is the perfect camera bag to accompany it. It's Proenza Schouler’s Orange Camera Case, a retro-cute homage to 1970's holidays in Key West and Palm Beach. Just don't look at the price. Shhhh. Don't even whisper it. {Via proenzaschouler.com; $1,850}

THE HERMES INSPIRED ENSUITE

Have you ever seen a more glamorous ensuite? This image is from Jonathon Adler and Simon Doonan's Park Avenue apartment. {Via Architectural Digest Espana} Look at that ornate shampoo stand. And the tangerine shower curtain! (Although 'curtain' is a bit of a pedestrian word for that operatic number.) Then there's the brass railing at the top of the subway tiles, that fabulous gilt/brass Hermés sign (does anyone know where they picked that up from, because I'd so love one too) and the Parisian railway clock on the wall. And I won't even mention the architecture books. (Okay, I did.) Is that so one can read up on Mies van der Rohe while one is, er, waiting for other inspiration to flow? Who knows? But it's all gorgeous. Just gorgeous. 

Here's another image. {Via Architectural Digest}

And if you want a little more tangerine theatricality, here's a ruffled version of a shower curtain from Urban Outfitters. 

THE HERMES-STACKED SHOWER

Now I don't know about you, but I think this is taking the Hermés decoration thing a bit far... If you're going to collect boxes, at least display them in an elegant way, don't you think? Then again, what do I know? Perhaps it's artistic? {Via Martha Stewart} 

ANOTHER HERMES-INSPIRED BATHING SPACE

I love this space, with the industrial-style lamps, the cute church stools, the bright mirror and the tangerine blinds that sit in a very cheeky position halfway down those elegantly arched windows. Even the waste bin matches.  Simple, but so sweet. {Via Zhush.com}

THE HERMES-INSPIRED STAIRCASE

Who could imagine that a simple orange runner could turn an ordinary staircase into a statement piece? But this space really works, mostly because of the crisp white walls and the surprising and somewhat cheeky orange line that runs up the side. Lovely. What a work of art! {Via bellemaison23.com}

THE HERMES HOLIDAY SPOT

Monte Carlo, as this vintage poster shows, is a place where Hermés orange is really at home. I don't know why, but orange just seems to suit this scene. Must be all those brightly trussed-up Grand Prix cars and those glamorous cruise-collection-from-Chanel wardrobes wandering up and down the esplanade... 

Even Monte Carlo's beach umbrellas take their colour cues from the Tangerine Tango trend.

THE HERMES-INSPIRED HEADSCARF

Dolce and Gabbana's 'hot', chilli-print scarf from D&G's Spring 2012 collection. (Sorry, but the pun was there waiting to be exploited!) This print is so different, I can't help but like it. It almost looks like the little chillies are marching across the scarf. The image may be D&G but the colour is VERY Hermés.

And here's Miss Pixie Geldof and Miss Paloma Faith wearing the fabric in a frock. Love the hat box Paloma. AND the Sophia Loren head scarf! I'd lose the cardi but otherwise it's retro-perfect. 

THE HERMES-INSPIRED LIBRARY

Penguin's classic orange covers are now collector pieces. I have half a dozen framed in our downstairs bedroom. I just love the simplicity of them. 

Here's how Australian designer Lyn Gardener showcases her beloved Penguins. I've had the good fortune of staying in her beautiful country getaway, The White House at Daylesford. I could have moved into this particular room.

THE QUINTESSENTIAL ORANGE FILM

I'm always fascinated by this film whenever it's shown on TV. And my friends, in turn, are always surprised by this. (My other favs include You've Got Mail and Funny Face. You can see why eyebrows are raised.) It's not the violence I like (it has terrible scenes: you've been warned), but the whole, over-the-top set design. It's as if Cecil Beaton took some acid and then teamed up with a bondage queen. The colours and images are extraordinary. One of Stanley Kubrick's best. (I have to warn you again: the violence is appalling. I apologise in advance if you're offended.)

AND FINALLY... PAINTING THE TOWN TANGERINE

Lastly, I'd like to show you a tiny part of my lovely home town, Melbourne, Australia, which is – along with New York, Boston and Canberra – one of the world's most beautiful cities in autumn. We're being blessed with a particularly glorious season this year, so everybody has been out embracing the leaf-strewn streets and mild sunny days. If you don't think much of orange, just come to Melbourne in May. You'll become a convert too, I promise!

{Image of Fawkner Park by Cliffano Subagio for The Age}