In Bloom

I loved this book: as raw, grungy and frenetic as Nirvana's Nevermind, In Bloom smells like disillusioned teen spirit

What a novel! In Bloom is effervescently paced and outrageously funny, but as deep as the hope and angst that drives its protagonists. A perfectly detailed encapsulation of an era we've collectively not quite gotten over. It's also a jaw-dropping exercise in perspective with one of the most brilliantly conceived denouements I've encountered.

Liz Allan's powerful debut novel smells unmistakably like teen spirit . . . Allan evokes Vincent in all its tawdry menace: shark-infested waters, creaking carnival rides, violent men lurking at home. Her chapters are distilled, her prose raw and vital, repetitions imbuing an incantatory rhythm . . . this is an electric portrait of teenage friendship and fandom, bubbling with rage and yearning: an Australian answer to Eliza Clark's Penance and Dizz Tate's Brutes . . . empathetic, addictive and feverish as a Nirvana gig, In Bloom critiques societal problems without patronising those affected by according them a fierce collective voice

Written in an eerie first person plural - "We practise our songs on the skate home, singing in harmony, over and over" - that narrates short, propulsive chapters, In Bloom is deeply evocative of 1990s suburbia, passionate teenage friendships and the looming shadow of patriarchal violence.

Atmospheric and gripping .... propulsive and intimate ... The specificity of her observations brings a wonderful depth and atmosphere to her portrait of working-class life in a small town in the 1990s; to her depiction of the magic and intensity of friendships between teenage girls; and to her understanding of how patriarchal violence looms over vulnerable young women, from multiple angles. This is a powerful and evocative debut from a writer of great skill and deeply felt emotion.