Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Audio Series: The Hope Fault




Our audio series "The Authors Read. We Listen."  was hatched in a NYC club during BEA back in 2012. It's a fun little series, where authors record themselves reading an excerpt from their own novels, in their own voices, the way their stories were meant to be heard.






Today, Tracy Farr reads an excerpt from her second novel, The Hope Fault, published by Aardvark Bureau / Gallic Books. Tracy is also the author of the novel The Life and Loves of Lena Gaunt, and her short stories have won awards and been published in anthologies and literary journals. Her first novel and many of her short stories have been adapted for radio, and The Hope Fault is currently being adapted for the stage. Originally from Australia, she’s lived in Wellington, New Zealand, for more than twenty years. You can catch her on Twitter or Instagram – she’s @hissingswan on both – or her website.











Click on the soundcloud image below to hear Tracy read an excerpt from her book: 






What it's about:  

In The Hope Fault, Iris and her extended family gather on a rainy midwinter long weekend to pack up, clean up and clear out their family holiday home now that it’s been sold, and to celebrate with one last party. There’s more to it than that – particularly in the novel’s middle act, which plays with time, and moves away from the family in the house – but the experience of this novel begins and ends with a sense of being with this family, in this house, doing the things that families do: eating and drinking, annoying each other, ignoring each other, worrying about each other, arguing and making up, keeping and revealing secrets.

The novel is about the idea of home: how we make and unmake and remake a home; and how the notion (the who, where and what) of home can shift. It’s also very much a novel about anxiety and uncertainty, and the idea that the earth might shift, literally or metaphorically, at any moment, but we can’t know where or when; and we can’t know what the consequences – large or small or none at all – might be.