Born in New Zealand, Hannah Tunnicliffe is a self-confessed nomad. She has previously lived in Canada, Australia, England, Macau and, while travelling Europe, a campervan named Fred. She currently lives in New Zealand with her husband and two daughters, having happily ditched a career in Human Resources to become an author. When she is not writing or reading she can usually be found baking or eating and sometimes all four at the same time (which is probably somewhat hazardous). She is founder and co-author of the blog Fork and Fiction, which, unsurprisingly, explores her twin loves - books and food. Season of Salt and Honey is her second novel.
By Hannah Tunnicliffe
This was such a challenging exercise! Perhaps I am an especially indecisive person because I think choosing five of anything is difficult – five best meals, five pieces of clothing, five songs – but … only five books?! Almost impossible. So, I have decided to select the five books that continued to haunt me long after they were read, the books that changed my life in some tangible way, the books I always have to buy new copies of because I lend them out and they don’t come back. I’ve listed them in chronological order, my personal chronology that is, from childhood to adulthood.
Anne of Green Gables by LM Montgomery
I’ll be frank. I almost chose Danny the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl but Anne of Green Gables won out. The story of an orphan girl in the early 1900’s settling into her new family in Prince Edward Island is timelessly captivating and inspiring. Anne is optimistic, plucky and charming and I adore her to this day. I know my own copy of this book so well I can tell you without looking at it that there is a green ink stain on the top of the pages and a tear in the chapter “Tempest in a Teapot” and the whole book is rippled and buckled from being dropped in the bath many times.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
I was a teenager when I read The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath in English class at Westlake Girls Highschool. This is Plath’s almost autobiographical account of a young woman in 1950’s America who feels trapped by societal stereotypes and norms. I was so moved and rattled by this book, which felt very real and raw and relevant to me, that it’s the only one of the five books I have chosen that I have never re-read.
My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki
I bought this book because it had a bright cover and a picture of a toy cow held in a pair of chopsticks. Those who say they don’t judge a book by its cover are lying! Ozeki’s debut novel, My Year of Meat, consists of two intertwining narratives – that of an American-Japanese filmmaker making a documentary series about American beef and that of a Japanese housewife who watches the series. I loved Ozeki’s characters, her deft knitting together of contrasting stories and cultures and social issues as well as the Sei Shonagon The Pillow Book quotes peppered throughout. After reading this book I became a vegetarian for eight years.
Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver
I make no bones about admitting that Barbara Kingsolver is my favourite author. I am a die-hard Kingsolver fangirl and nothing will change my mind about that. Of all her books, Prodigal Summer, the elegantly woven-together stories of three people living on farm or forest in Southern Appalachia, cemented my love for her writing. Kingsolver’s talents grow with every book she publishes; she is ever-changing and yet never-wavering in her ability and commitment to create rich, complex, strong, lovable characters and present environmental and social issues for examination and discussion. See? Fangirl.
The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak
I love reading children’s and young adult fiction and those that think that is, well, juvenile need to read The Book Thief by Marcus Zuzak. Leisel Meminger, Zuzak’s teenage protagonist, is surviving in Nazi Germany and her life story is told to us by Death itself. If that brief synoposis is confusing enough imagine writing the book! My phenomenally talented cousin, Brianne Collins, was Zuzak’s editor for this book so I feel a familial connection with it. I was so impressed by Zuzak’s gritty, clever, frank, sweet and brutal story-telling that I’m not sure I have a copy of the book anymore; this was one that got lent out many times and probably didn’t return. Or perhaps someone stole it.
