Unpredictable, fantastic ... It takes a charged narrative, like Dickens achieves, and as Dalton does too, to reach the heart and the brain.
In the shadows of Brisbane’s underbelly, a teenage girl and her mother live on the run, hiding from a past that threatens to consume them. They exist on the fringes — sleeping in a broken-down van, scraping by on stolen moments of freedom, always looking over their shoulders. But the girl has a dream: to become an artist, to escape the cycle of fear and poverty, to create a future beyond the one she was born into. As she paints a vision of herself — a version she longs to be — her reality begins to blur with the world inside the mirror, where a mysterious figure named Lola beckons her towards something more. What unfolds is a raw, heart-wrenching journey through love, violence, and the ever-shifting nature of self-belief.
Dalton once again captures Brisbane in all its grit and glory. The river winds through the story like a silent witness, the highways hum with the restless energy of a city in motion, and the hidden corners — graffitied tunnels, abandoned lots, the quiet spaces between overpasses — are painted with exquisite precision. For anyone who has walked those streets, felt the sting of hot concrete underfoot, or watched the neon glow of an Aussie servo at night, this book pulses with the dichotomy of familiarity and missed perspectives.
Told through the eyes of a girl who has nothing but hope, the story crackles with both beauty and brutality. It explores what it means to dream when the world tells you not to, how resilience can coexist with fear, and how love — however messy and imperfect — can still save us.
Unpredictable, fantastic ... It takes a charged narrative, like Dickens achieves, and as Dalton does too, to reach the heart and the brain.
