Wake by Shelley Burr


“She planted her feet and stared down at her basket, dragging in a deep breath. He wasn’t the first person to watch her, but this was the first time one of them had shown up in public.”


Crime fiction in Australia is a genre in demand – names like Jane Harper and Chris Hammer spring immediately to mind, but there’s an upcoming crop of authors bringing a new dimension to the scene. Shelley Burr’s debut novel Wake (2022) grabs the reader with tension from the very first page. It’s the story of a missing girl, her withdrawn but yearning sister, and a cold case investigator who thinks he might have found the truth, closer to home than any of them think.

Nineteen years ago, Evie McCreery vanished without a trace, leaving no clues as to what happened to her. Her sister Mina now lives alone on the family farm, captive to drought and the inescapable events of that fateful night. Mina is wary of everyone and has few friends; her sister’s disappearance keeps drawing out all manner of macabre tourists and conspiracy theorists who want nothing more than the unclaimed reward money. When private cold-case investigator Lane Holland rolls into town, she dismisses him as another money grabber, just like all the rest. And to a degree he is, but there’s something more than money that’s motivating him. The novel switches between both of their perspectives throughout, allowing the reader to gain new insights as the plot thickens.

‘I have, if you’ll forgive me for bragging, quite a record of closing cases everyone else has given up on. You might be familiar with the Tammie Peterson case in Walgett? Or the murder of Bronte and Regina Fermin in Albury?’

She hadn’t heard of either of those cases. That softened her opinion of him somewhat. Fame seekers didn’t chase after cases that even she, with such a vested interest, had never heard of.

‘Three girls,’ she noted, and let the implication hang in the air between them. ‘All children?’

‘That’s my specialty, yes,’ he said in a tense, clipped voice. ‘I have a younger sister.’

From their first meeting, we see that there’s more to Lane than meets the eye. The unease between him and Mina is apparent, and neither one wants to share their full story with the other. As readers we get to stay ever so slightly ahead of each character, able to combine their experiences through the third-person omniscience. As their secrets come to light, each piece of the puzzle starts to fit but there’s always a sense of something looming for both of them, one more important thing that’s been overlooked. As they verbally spar and drip-feed each other details, it becomes apparent that total collaboration is the only way they can each lay their ghosts to rest – if only they can overcome their distrust of each other.

‘I didn’t want to make my mother angry,’ she said in a small voice. She had that pinched red look under her eyes again, but they were dry.

Lane was completely lost. ‘I understand that when you were nine, but surely once you were an adult you saw—’

‘I said no,’ Mina snapped. ‘I said no, and so she went alone. If I’d been with her, then maybe I could have gone for help. Maybe whoever—whatever—it was would have been scaared off by two girls instead of one. If I’d said yes, she might be alive.’

Burr’s pacing holds the narrative thread taut through the entire book, avoiding the common sagging middle. The plot is laden with the twists and turns that drive quality crime fiction right through to the final scene. The use of an online forum as a device to frame the narrative is refreshing, and keeps the reader thinking about possible clues being exposed. A bombshell piece of information dropped halfway through the book might be enough to derail a lesser story, but Burr’s writing is strong enough that I was unperturbed as a reader. The dual perspectives are done exceptionally well, allowing us to see inside both Lane and Mina’s thoughts without the head-hopping sensation that sometimes occurs when multiple points of view appear in a single book. Conversation sometimes veers towards the ‘talking heads’ effect, but this happens mostly when Lane is conducting interviews and almost acts like a spotlight, focusing in on the characters involved and exactly what their words are, enhancing the effect of the interview.  

‘There is no getting away from it,’ Mina said. ‘The shadow is there whether you set up a goddamn picnic underneath it like my mother or if you try to run away from it like my father. No matter which way you go, you’re still responding to the shadow.’

The themes of truth and justice run deeply through this book. It explores with great sensitivity the private impacts of public trauma; how Mina and her family are treated in the face of a devastating event, and their inability to escape it despite the passage of time. Mina in particular becomes shaped and defined by it as an adult; torn between needing justice and moving on without it. Lane is also driven by a strong need for justice, but his angle is quite different. In both cases, however, Burr repeatedly asks the reader to consider the human faces behind the news stories; how the spotlight continues to affect them long after the events in question, and how to balance their right to dignity and privacy with the public ‘desire to know’.

The desire for truth sits heavily on the shoulders of both Lane and Mina as each grapples with a past they can’t move on from until they have answers. Alanna, one of Mina’s few friends, utilises Lane’s services in her own search for truth with unexpected and devastating results. In this moment, Burr asks us whether the pursuit of truth is worth the agony it can uncover. In some cases, perhaps, the image we construct in our heads is a softer, safer place than the dark tunnels the truth can lead down; is it actually better to live with our own reconstructions than to really know?


Amanda McLeod is a creative based in Canberra, Australia. She’s the author of two books, Animal Behaviour and Heartbreak Autopsy, and has had many pieces published both in print and online. Her recent works explore nature, ecology and connection, and some can be found in EcoTheo Review and Wild Roof Journal. A self-professed tree nerd, you can usually find her outside by the nearest river. If she’s not there, try Twitter and Instagram (both @AmandaMWrites) or her website AmandaMcLeodWrites.com.

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