Book Review – The Sister of the Alphabet by Monica Makineri

I can not explain why it took me until 2013 to read my first novel by Monica McInnery. She is an Australian writer with international bestselling artists, including: "Taste for It", "Rolling Inside Out", "Turn the Bottle", and most recently Lolo's Secret. I often exchange books with friends and family, and I did not know Monica McInneri until they handed me a book called "The Sister Alphabet". The book was quickly read, filled with dynamic heroes that come alive with the authors, perfectly describing both physical attributes and emotional characteristics. Makineri woke up a beautiful family story in turmoil, overcoming her own fears and egoistic pride. I can only apologize for not reading this wonderful story earlier (this was copyright in 2004) and I can no doubt say that I will read more of Makineri's books in the near future.

This wonderful work takes place in the Clare Valley in South Australia just before the 80th anniversary of Lola, the grandmother of the sister alphabet. Lola has decided to unite her estranged granddaughters in the small family motel in the wonderful wine country. The girls oblige their grandmother (rather with discontent) and come to the motel. They do not intend to be as close as they ever were as a singing group, circling like the scandalous Sister-Alphabet, with their eccentric clothes and show tunes. The dynamics of the family range from uncomfortable and tense to gentle and loving as history unfolds. Makineri has a way to breathe life into the hero without anyone becoming an antagonist. There is something to love about each of the sisters: Anna is the oldest and quickest to take over, Beth is the average child who feels awkward and uncertain about himself from time to time, and Carrie is the youngest and the sister , which had never come out and was still in the Clare Valley, which ruled the motel with its parents when the brothers and sisters returned. Lola is a humorous grandmother and family matriarch; it also has a secret that does not go to the end of the book. To learn more about her secret, you can take a copy of Lola's Secret, listed for the Fiction Book of the Year, at the Australian Book Industry Awards 2012 and published in the US in October 2012.

The sisters of the Alphabet look closely at family dynamics, brother-sister relationships, rivalry, secrets and different points of view. Makineri has revived the many unique characters whose relationships and relationships enjoyed their elderly grandmother Lola, who was a catalyst for family reunification and the restoration of broken relationships. Mackinier's first job, at the age of 17, was a wardrobe girl and later a screenwriter. She pulled out of her own story when the story of the alphabet sisters unfolded with home play, auditions, local amateur talents and a superb performance to fund a new ambulance for their city.

Men and their money: the invitation

Money is not the root of all evil. People are the root of all money. People use money and people use people. It's a game of life. Life can not be played without money.

As a child, we are taught that the most important values ​​in life have nothing to do with money. They learn that money is less important than love and family. We are taught that we will survive with God's love. As children we believe in this. We go to the church, say a few prayers and watch our parents put a dollar in their basket. We believe that love and happiness are behind the altar.

We are told to spend our money wisely, but watch our parents spend it stupidly. We are taught that money can not buy love, but men try every day. Men refuse to buy my love, but they will always offer me to buy my body. They want it only for an hour or two, but they still expect a full refund if they are not met. They will not melt me ​​with expensive gifts or send a dozen red roses, but they will always offer me one afternoon in their motel room. This is insulting enough, but they even aggravate the situation by refusing to offer cold money, as if their intentions are somehow honorable. They expect a compliment in exchange for any insult.

The first person who made such a generous offer was a salesman from my office. He invited me to lunch as a payment for my boss who buys this product. I accepted the lunch invitation because I thought it was a business lunch. I'm dressed in my favorite business dress just to be taken to the picnic park. I wore a white dress and did not want to sit in the gap she pulled out of the trunk of my car to lie down on the grass. He unwrapped a sandwich that he had just bought from a nearby grocery store and told me he was "well sheltered."

I recorded it while he was eating his sandwich. As I listened, I began to realize that everything embedded in a cellophane taken from a brown paper food bag was not a lunch at Brown Palace. Then, when he kindly placed the blanket in front of me, he explained that he had bought us sandwiches so we could have time to stay alone. She did not want to go to a restaurant where the crowd could be scattered. What he did not want to admit was that he did not want to go to a restaurant and probably be seen by his wife. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, his real intentions were revealed.

With a sandwich in hand, as the mustard dripped in his clean white shirt, he tells me that he lives in one of the nearby mansions near Cheseman Park. He stops watching the expression on my face. I think he was expecting me to pant in his glory. I did not speak. I waited. I watched silently as the mustard became a blob. After realizing that I was not impressed by his statement, he explained that he wanted to be so much with me that he was willing to rent the condominium house near his house to be able to visit him whenever he wished. He further explained that he would pay my rent and keep a key for himself. He just wanted to be close to me, he explained, and visited every time he could get out of the house.

"Oh," I said, "do you mean you do not divorce?"

"Oh, no," he said, "that's my wife's money.

I took another bite of my sandwich to avoid an answer. I did not know what to say. I was shocked and surprised at the whole event. I was married, and I was afraid my jealous husband could hear that man's words thousands of miles away, and they would blame me for the approach. I sat silently chewing on my sandwich, trying to chew every bite. I kept time. Finally he asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"All right," I said, "I do not know what to think. This is the first time a married man offered me to rent an apartment to be able to deceive his wife.

"Well, yes," he said, "so I asked you.

Confused, I asked him to explain. He seemed to think he would get better if he chose a married woman who would not expect love in return and would be happy with just one afternoon sexual bliss. He seemed to expect me to meet him for lunch. I was so naive then that I almost took my lunch when I began to realize what she really offered. I could not believe she actually thought she would be deceiving her husband. I was offended by the suggestion that I would even think of such a notice. I was also angry that he used a business lunch as an excuse to make me present my offer myself. I refrained from speaking my real thoughts because I did not want to create problems in the office.

In retrospect, I would like to be brave enough to tell him that not only do I not care about his proposal, but that my boss will no longer be interested in his products. Instead, I told him I loved my husband and I just was not available. In fact, I hated him. I hated it ruining my first business lunch. I hated him for ruining my day. I hated him taking me to the park instead of the modern restaurant in the center. I hated him stealing my innocent thoughts.

Many years have passed since this man's proposal, but even with age I am still offended by such suggestions. With age and experience, I knew a stronger stomach and even stronger words. Still, I'm still unprepared.

When I was young, I thought dinner was a dinner invitation. It took me many years to learn that the date of dinner is really a covert invitation for sex. Now that you invite me to dinner, I really want to ask, "How much will it cost me?"