What’s your novel about?

My friends have known that I’ve been writing a novel for years, but I’ve always been so cagey about it. Whenever anyone asks me, “So what IS it about?” I’m always very vague: “Um, well, it’s about a lot of things, like, erm, you know….” I’ve resolved to stop being so cagey about my writing, but it’s a hard habit to break. Sometimes it doesn’t feel appropriate to go into a whole long explanation about my fruit salad heritage (thanks, Serah P!) or about the second world war, and anyway, it would be tedious. What I need is a snappy one-liner, something smoky and fascinating, a synopsis that would be Marlene Dietrich if it could be a person (or Greta Garbo, or Ingrid Bergman, or Marina from the L word).

This is what I came up with when I sent the first three chapters of my first novel, A Prawn’s Heart is in its Head, off to Penguin:
“A Prawn’s Heart is in its Head is a novel that explores ethnicity, sexuality, history and the experience of being an immigrant in New Zealand. The novel is set in the 1940s and 1990s, joined by segues. The two main characters are connected by violent events that change the rest of their lives.”
Any other suggestions are welcome!

I wanted to make it clear that it’s relevant to New Zealand, as the first three chapters are set in the UK, so they might think it’s not relevant to NZ readers. Most books published in NZ seem to be set here or have some kind of “kiwi-ness”. NZ literature has a very particular flavour to it, there is a definite NZ ‘style’ of writing, and as a non-Nzer, I do not have that kiwi-ness. But I’m still hoping that my book will be published here.

Yesterday, someone very kindly gave me a desk chair, as since we moved here I’ve been using a very uncomfortable wooden stool (2 wooden stools and a red velvet pouf — I love saying that — is the only furniture we shipped over from the UK). It’s one of those big black leather chairs that looks like it should have JR Ewing sitting in it. Like a lazeeboy, it’s comfortable, but like a lazeeboy, it is also hideous. (You hear me, Cherie, don’t you!)

It says: “Hello, I’m a big black leather chair,” as soon as you walk in the door; there’s no not noticing it. Even when I turn my back on it I can still feel its “I’m a big black leather chair” vibes trying to seduce me. I can’t bear it! How can I get rid of it without offending the kind person who gave it to me? And am I being incredibly superficial by wanting a pretty chair? I mean; I needed a chair, and now I have one. It’s practical, I can sit on it; it works. But still, something in purple velvet would be lovely….