When I first read Melina Marchetta’s much-loved book, Looking for Alibrandi, I was around the same age as Josephine Alibrandi. It was the first Australian book I discovered that did not ‘try hard’ to depict youth, class or ethnicity. When you are a young adult, you innately have what Hemingway considers crucial for every serious writer: a built-in bovine-excrement detector, to put it euphemistically. You know how to recognise an earnest voice, and sift it from disingenuous voices that might be more technically sophisticated.
Source: Reading Australia