Clade, by James Bradley

Set in a dystopian future, beginning not too far from now, the effects of cataclysmic climate change on a planet and on a particular extended family are seen in snapshots over a span of around 50 years. Grimly realistic and all too believable, the novel shows the day-to-day reality of the impact of the changing climate on ordinary people and the society they inhabit. Despite it all they continue to live, love, breed and hope, reflecting the truth of the title, which is a reference to the tree of life. Individual characters are not especially appealing, but they are mere cogs in the overall machine of a crisply-written and gripping tale. Books written in the present tense can often be intensely annoying, but here it is less so and as the story continues it actually seems quite apt, when the future depicted is increasingly uncertain.

Vampire Academy, by Richelle Mead

An update on the old boarding school genre to the era of the supernatural, the girls of Mallory Towers and St Clares might struggle at the Vampire Academy. No midnight feasts or lacrosse games here. Despite its complex vampire politics and frequent violent confrontations, it is still essentially a story of the strong bond between teenage girls. Lissa and Rose have to negotiate peer pressure, snobbery, bullying, boy trouble, oh and murderous relatives. Fans of this series were apparently not keen on the movie version, mainly because of some casting issues, and there is no sign of a movie franchise developing as the books have. This seems a pity, as the books have far more meat than many such, for example the dreary Divergent series.

Inbetween Days, by Vikki Wakefield

When Mr Right is wrong for you and Mr Wrong is right for you and you are torn between love and hate for both your sister and your mother, life is complicated. Add to that being stuck in a small town known as a suicide spot, with no ambition and not much of a future and life looks pretty bleak. This intense and complex story does have its lighter moments and overall draws a credible picture of the pain and pleasure of becoming an adult. The metaphors are sometimes a little heavy handed, but the language is sometimes poetic, the plot maintains suspense and the ending is satisfying, offering hope without tying up the story too neatly.

Newt's Emerald, by Garth Nix

Known as a master of compelling YA fantasy, a regency romance from Garth Nix seems an extraordinary departure. The style owes everything to Georgette Heyer, the queen of regency romance, and at first it does sit a little awkwardly. But Nix soon finds his own rhythm and seamlessly blends his world of magical powers and enchanted jewels into the early 19th century. And if we can have Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, then why the hell not? A fast-paced blend of mystery crime thriller, fantasy and historical romance, it is reminiscent of Phillip Pullman’s Victorian era novels, featuring accountant Sally Lockhart. Although Newt’s Emerald is lighter in tone, like Pullman Nix writes women well and his heroine, the improbably named Lady Truthful, is intrepid and endearing. The novel lends itself to a sequel and would make a fun film., so hopefully there is more to come.

The Woman Who Stole My Life, by Marian Keyes

Back and forth in time we go, over a few years in the life of Stella Sweeney, Dublin beautician, wife and mother of two, who wrestles karma to find happiness. Keyes delivers in her usual warm, funny-wry and poignant style, an engaging tale of a woman attempting to rise above her own fears and self-limitations. Some stupendously slappable characters, not least at times Stella herself, stop the story tipping over into fairy-tale territory, but the inevitable happy ending does arrive in a bit of a rush, after the long drawn-out journey towards it.

Illuminae, by Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff

It starts off well with an attack on a remote illegal mining colony by an evil mega corporation, BeiTech. Several thousand refugees, including resourceful teen exes Kady and Ezra, manage to evacuate from the planet but are pursued by BeiTech, which wants to destroy the evidence and hence all survivors of the attack. Written in the style of an official report on the event, including briefing notes and redactions, the characters are engaging and the story zips along. Unfortunately it becomes increasingly difficult to physically read, with sections of text swirling all over the page and grey text on a black background. All very creative, but all very unnecessary. Similarly, the plot deteriorates into sheer silliness, as the teen rebels pull off miracles while battling bureaucracy, zombies and an AI spaceship that is going insane, as well as the villainous BeiTech. The novel’s subtitle – The Illuminae Files_01 – and the slightly cliffhanger ending indicate that this may be the first in a series. Don’t bother.

Here Be Monsters (ebook) by John Birmingham

The First Fleet has just arrived in Sydney Harbour, preparing to deal with the dangers and privations of a new world. But Captain Watkin Tench and his cohorts encounter a world of wonders and inexplicable horror. This rollicking alternative history of time travel and zombies leaves the reader wanting more. We know our hero lived to tell the tale to the Royal Society, but how did they escape the Scourge? How did Tench court his wife Jennifer? What happened after the American colonies were won back? Answer my questions Birmingham damn you!

I'll Give You the Sun, by Jandy Nelson

Jude and Noah are twins, negotiating adolescence after a tragic loss. They were once so close they divided the world between themselves, but a tragic loss, mutual jealousy and dealing with their emerging sexuality have led to a devastating rift. The trauma seems to have engendered a personality swap, with popular girl Jude becoming a loner and outsider Noah burying his true self and turning ‘normal’. A new mentor for Jude is the catalyst for change, but will Jude and Noah be able to get their shit and themselves together? The story alternates between each twin’s point of view and jumps back and forth in time to explain how they have become estranged, not sparing their flaws and mistakes but engendering sympathy for each nonetheless. The ending is possibly a little too neat, but draws on the continuing minor theme of fate and spirituality to suspend disbelief, in line with the quote used on the cover, ”We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.”

A Waltz With Matilda, by Jackie French

In a sweeping tale of drought and flooding rains, we follow Matilda from the age of 12 to 33, from poverty in the city to wealth in the bush. Her story mirrors the development of Australia into a federation on a somewhat soap operatic scale. The depth of research is impressive and throws up many interesting facts about Australia’s history that may not be well known. Unfortunately the history has a tendency to swallow the story, rather than informing it, verging on didactic and with several unlikely plot points detracting from the story. This is mitigated somewhat by the use of letters, especially Matilda’s correspondence with suffragists, which plausibly adds details of the movement for votes for women. Matilda herself is a little too good to be true, her trajectory underlining an essentially positive and optimistic outlook for the new nation. Nevertheless the characters are vividly drawn and with the story ending at World War I and the dawn of a new era for both Matilda and her country, it will be interesting to see where the next book in the series takes them.

Under Majordomo Minor, by Patrick DeWitt

A weird combination of fable and gothic novel, with a touch of comic book adventure thrown in to the mix, Under Majordomo Minor is a bit of a headfuck. In the first few chapters the overblown language, with multiple adjectives per sentence, is a tad tedious, but it either eases up or you get used to it and it becomes less of a bother. Our hero, dear reader, aimless 17-year-old Lucien Minor, leaves home and takes a job as under majordomo in a castle in another town. His adventures include falling in with thieves, falling in love and witnessing a violent orgy. A bizarre and fantastical ride, the reader remains in Lucy’s corner all the way, despite his many flaws.

Cloudwish, by Fiona Wood

Scholarship girl Van Uoc keeps her school life and her home life strictly separate. It’s hard work living up to the stereotype of overachieving daughter of refugees, especially when you are starting to develop wants and needs that don’t fit the pattern. Her two worlds collide when she gets involved with jock of jocks Billy Gardiner, who is struggling with his own stereotype of parental and peer expectations. Luckily there is always Jane Eyre to turn to for guidance. Given their extreme reliance on Van Uoc for translation and negotiating bureaucracy, one wonders how on earth her parents managed for so many years before she came along. The actual wish element is unnecessary and a little silly; seemingly only present to justify the title; the story would have been better without it. But these are minor quibbles in a moving and engaging tale of cultural difference and finding your way.

Green Valentine, by Lili Wilkinson

Some YA books transcend genre to be universally relevant. This is not one of them. Perfect and popular Astrid is determined to make the world a better place. An unlikely alliance with rebellious Hiro leads to romance and multiple clashes with authority. Politically correct to the point of nausea, the improbable plot becomes cartoonish as all comes right in the end. Harmless enough.

The Secret Chord, by Geraldine Brooks

King David has commissioned his personal prophet, Nathan, to write a warts and all biography. And so we receive the history of a charismatic leader with many flaws, from his abusive childhood to his bitter end. David is a musical prodigy who unites the tribes of Israel, committing brutal rapes and mass murder along the way. A clear, although possibly not intentional, demonstration of the fact that history is generally his-story and rarely her-story, Brooks’ novel is a bit of a slog through the slaughter. A redeeming feature is the hope for better from the next generation, but David’s motivation is never entirely clear. Brooks is known for bringing history to life in her novels, impeccable research informing engaging fictional characters and their stories. The Secret Chord features real historical characters, about whom there is more mythology than known facts, which creates some tension between story and actual history. Ultimately the nature of these beasts leaves rather a sour taste, most of them are characters the should perhaps stay buried in the past.

The Beauty is in the Walking, by James Moloney

Jacob has cerebral palsy but gets around on his own two feet, thanks to the dedicated care of his over-protective mother. She has a nice, safe job lined up for him when he finishes school and his life in a small Australian country town has been well and truly mapped out for him. A coming-of-age tale that sometimes tries a little too hard, Jacob’s journey of self-discovery covers disability, racism, sexual awakening and the insularity of country life.

Elizabeth is Missing, by Emma Healey

This quietly devastating tale combines a murder mystery with an account of a woman’s gradual decline into dementia. Written from the point of view of Maud, the novel cleverly intersperses her ultra sharp memories of her parents and older sister in her teen years, just after World War II, with her current fuzziness about her daughter and grand-daughter. What has happened to Maud’s good friend Elizabeth? Can she solve the mystery and will she remember it if she does? Maud is determined that she will and, with the support and care of her often exasperated daughter, she uncovers more than she knows she is looking for. Emma Healy has written a poignant story of love and loss that strikes a strong and lingering chord, with a subtle examination of the effects of ageing on an individual, on her family and friends and on her community.