Alien abductions, menopausal mermaids, a single-sentence novel and a cursed vagina; Australian literature in 2026 is looking marvellously unhinged. Here\u2019s a sneak peek.<\/p>\n
Fiction<\/strong>Big names taking big risks<\/p>\n The Miles Franklin-winner Amanda Lohrey <\/strong>(author of The Labyrinth) moves from inner space to outer space with a novel about a psychiatrist whose patients report cosmic encounters (Capture<\/a>, Text, April). Best known for her morally searching nonfiction, Chloe Hooper<\/strong> takes a detour with a cold war thriller, Lady Spy (Scribner, November), while the ever-antic Steve Toltz<\/strong> reappears with more existential absurdity (A Rising of the Lights<\/a>, Penguin, April). Meanwhile, the polymathic Robert Forster<\/strong> \u2013 co-founder of the Go-Betweens \u2013 has written his first novel: \u201ca rock-and-roll road trip\u201d (Songwriters on the Run<\/a>, Penguin, May).<\/p>\n Chloe Hooper, who is releasing cold war thriller Lady Spy in November. Photograph: Eugene Hyland\/The Guardian<\/p>\n Two of Ozlit\u2019s cage-rattlers are back. Michael Winkler<\/strong>\u2019s debut, Grimmish, was the first self-published novel to be shortlisted for the Miles Franklin<\/a>. Now he brings us Griefdogg<\/a>: the story of a despairing climate scientist who decides he\u2019d rather be a family pet (Text, March). And Kris Kneen<\/strong> returns to fiction with Rite of Spring, a novel of marriage, madness, middle age and \u2026 sea monsters (Transit Lounge, July).<\/p>\n Expect serious metafictional mischief from the reigning Miles Franklin-winner, Siang Lu<\/strong>, whose new novel takes The Odyssey for a joyride (Useless Tse, Scribner, September). And Shaun Micallef<\/strong> is having a great deal of fun with De\u2019Ath Takes a Holiday<\/a>, a book that sounds like Forrest Gump has been bitten by Dracula \u2013 or perhaps the other way around (Ultimo, March).<\/p>\n It promises to be a mighty year for Ozlit. Look for new fiction from: Michael Mohammed Ahmad, Max Easton, Kathryn Heyman, Fiona Kelly McGregor, Suzie Miller, Favel Parrett, Edwina Preston, Mirandi Riwoe<\/strong> and Clare Thomas<\/strong>. There\u2019s even a double helping \u2013 fiction and nonfiction \u2013 from that wildly inventive scriptomaniac Yumna Kassab <\/strong>(Goodbye, My Love<\/a>, Ultimo, April; and The Parramatta Dictionary, Giramondo, July).<\/p>\n Eco-lit flourishesEnvironmentalist Tim Flannery and his daughter Emma Flannery have co-written A Brief History of Climate Folly (out in August). Photograph: Kate Holden<\/p>\n It is a dark irony that our most alive fiction is anchored to extinction: the wilder our grief and awe, the wilder our storytelling. Adam Ouston\u2019s<\/strong> new novel, Mine, follows a climate activist trapped at the bottom of an abandoned goldmine and is told in a single, wheeling 278-page sentence (Transit Lounge, August). Johanna Bell\u2019s<\/strong> The Department of the Vanishing<\/a> is the literary equivalent of a murder board (Transit Lounge, March). And then there are the apocalyptic eco-fables: immaculate conception in a feminist utopia (The Endling<\/a> by Keely Jobe<\/strong>, Scribe, March); a virulent rash (Mantle<\/a> by Romy Ash,<\/strong> Ultimo, April); and the wakeful ruins of an alien civilisation (Bird Deity<\/a> by John Morrissey<\/strong>, Text, February).<\/p>\n Eva Hornung, Katherine Johnson, Maria Takolander, Inga Simpson <\/strong>and Sarah Walker<\/strong> all have eco-inflected fiction out this year. And Tim Flannery\u2019s<\/strong> A Brief History of Climate Folly (Text, August), co-written by his daughter Emma Flannery<\/strong>, is stranger than fiction. It collects real-world tales of humanity\u2019s attempts to control the weather \u2013 like Hitler\u2019s plan to drain the Mediterranean.<\/p>\n The cost of livingJordan Prosser, whose second novel Blue Giant follows a hungover millennial on a journey to Mars. Photograph: Sarah Walker<\/p>\n From the housing crisis to the care sandwich: an emerging and caustic theme in Ozlit (and beyond) is late capitalism and financial precarity. Fiona Wright<\/strong> captures the mood with Kill Your Boomers<\/a> (Ultimo, March). Jordan Prosser <\/strong>sends a hungover millennial to Mars in Blue Giant (UQP, August); Ellena Savage<\/strong> follows an anarchist waiter from inner-city Melbourne to a decrepit Greek Island (The Ruiners, Summit, April); Alan Fyfe\u2019s<\/strong> The Cross Thieves<\/a> (Transit Lounge, March), is set in a riverside squat; and George Kemp<\/strong> traps his cast in a regional McDonald\u2019s as a bushfire closes in (Soft Serve<\/a>, UQP, February).<\/p>\n There are nonfiction titles on the theme, too: see Lucinda Holdforth\u2019s<\/strong> Going On and On: Why Longevity Threatens the Future<\/a> (Summit, April), and Matt Lloyd-Cape\u2019s<\/strong> Our Place: How to Fix the Housing Crisis and Build a Better Australia (Black Inc, September).<\/p>\n The art of lifeAngela O\u2019Keeffe, who once wrote a novel told by Jackson Pollock\u2019s Blue Poles, has written a new book told by a paperback novel, titled Phantom Days. Photograph: Mike Bowers\/The Guardian<\/p>\n Our literary obsession with art-makers continues. Wayne Marshall<\/strong> sends Henry Lawson into the multiverse in Henry Goes Bush (Pan Macmillan, May) and Emily Lighezzolo\u2019s<\/strong> paint-speckled debut follows a couple who meet in an art class: she\u2019s the model, he\u2019s an artist (Life Drawing<\/a>, UQP, March). Speaking of paint, Angela O\u2019Keeffe<\/strong> once gave voice to a Jackson Pollock canvas<\/a>; now her new book Phantom Days<\/a> brings a paperback novel to life \u2013 the more it sees, the more it fears for its owner (UQP, May).<\/p>\n And the line between life and art blurs in Debra Adelaide\u2019s<\/strong> autofiction, When I Am Sixty-Four<\/a> (UQP, April). Based on her real-life friendship with the Puberty Blues\u2019 co-author Gabrielle Carey<\/a>, this bruised and generous novel traces what remains \u2013 and what shifts \u2013 when a life, and a creative bond, comes to an end. Australian art-makers star in nonfiction too, with new biographies of the Hobart-born actor Errol Flynn<\/a> (by Patricia A O\u2019Brien<\/strong>, Allen & Unwin, April), the cultural critic Robert Hughes (by Thornton McCamish, Black Inc, November), and the poet AD Hope<\/a> (by Susan Lever<\/strong>, Black Inc, April).<\/p>\n Crime, romance and fantasy<\/p>\n The body count continues to rise in Aussie crime fiction, and the usual suspects are back: Ashley Kalagian Blunt, Candice Fox, Amanda Hampson, JP Pomare,<\/strong> and Michael Robotham<\/strong> \u2013 who delivers his first homegrown noir (Tell Me Something True<\/a>, Hachette, September). Meanwhile, the investigative journalist Louise Milligan<\/strong>\u2019s second novel is out in March (Shellybanks<\/a>, Allen and Unwin).<\/p>\n And we have talent aplenty across the genre spectrum: from meet-cutes (The Paradise Pact<\/a> by Anita Heiss,<\/strong> Simon and Schuster, March), to riotous family megadramas (The Sisterhood Rules<\/a> by Kathy Lette<\/strong>, Bloomsbury, February) and shapeshifting princesses (Songbird of the Sorrows<\/a> by Braidee Otto<\/strong>, Penguin, February). Look out for the Perth author Cameron Sullivan\u2019s <\/strong>debut fantasy novel, The Red Winter<\/a> <\/strong>(Pan Macmillan, March), which is set for a global release this year \u2013 a retelling of the myth of the Beast of G\u00e9vaudan<\/a>.<\/p>\n Non-fiction<\/strong><\/p>\n Rhetoric and reckonings<\/strong><\/p>\n Wiradjuri writer Stan Grant, whose new book When Words Fail Us is out in May, pictured in Adelong, NSW. Photograph: Jessica Hromas\/The Guardian<\/p>\n The former Guardian reporter Amy Remeikis<\/strong> has two books out this year and their titles tell a story on their own: Where It All Went Wrong<\/a> (Scribner, February) and Screw Nice (Hachette, July). The first revisits the Howard years; the second takes aim at the politics of civility and the weaponisation of politeness. Bob Hawke and Anthony Albanese \u2013 and their leadership \u2013 also come under scrutiny in high-profile essay collections (Gold Standard? Revisiting the Hawke Government<\/a> and The First Albanese Government<\/a>, both out with <\/a>NewSouth). And Kate Grenville <\/strong>continues her project of colonial reckoning in Currabubula (Black Inc, October), a tale that begins with a bundle of mysterious letters.<\/p>\n Stan Grant<\/strong> makes the case for attentive silence in When Words Fail Us (NewSouth, May), while the techno-commentator Toby Walsh<\/strong> considers the force reshaping everything else in God AI (Black Inc, September). And fresh from her victory against the ABC<\/a>, Antoinette Lattouf<\/strong> celebrates rule-breakers and history-makers in Women Who Win<\/a> (Penguin, April).<\/p>\n Australian true crime also keeps power in its sights. In Duty to Warn<\/a> (Hachette, January), Charlotte Grieve<\/strong> traces the fallout of her reporting on the disgraced orthopaedic surgeon Munjed Al Muderis. In The Vanishing of Vivienne Cameron<\/a> (Simon and Schuster, January), Vikki Petraitis<\/strong> revisits a disappearance that has haunted Australia for decades and examines the biases that warped the investigation.<\/p>\n Wellness and witcheryAustralian comedian and author Judith Lucy, whose upcoming book Well Well Well takes on the wellness industry. Photograph: Token<\/p>\n The title of the year award goes to Lally Katz<\/strong> for her memoir My Cursed Vagina<\/a> (Allen and Unwin, February), which begins with a diagnosis she received from a shopping mall psychic. Judith Lucy<\/strong> samples every tincture and cure \u2013 \u201cfrom ayahuasca to zen\u201d \u2013 as she grapples with the wellness industrial complex in Well Well Well (Scribner, November), while Kaz Cooke<\/strong> explores the ghostly and the gullible in her history of clairvoyants, mediums and magicians\u2019 assistants (Spooky Ladies Being Special, Scribner, October).<\/p>\n In Good Witch Hunting (Summit, July), the Guardian columnist Lucianne Tonti<\/strong> argues that the twisted logic of witch hunting still haunts the present. And, in her essay collection The Ruin of Magic<\/a> (Black Inc, April), Kate Holden<\/strong> looks for forms of real enchantment, from the dark pull of nostalgia to the sustaining light of other storytellers.<\/p>\n Care and community<\/p>\n But if there is a heartbeat to the coming year, it\u2019s the care that binds us together. Blak Love <\/strong>(UQP, October), edited by Daniel Browning<\/strong> and Cheryl Leavy<\/strong>, brings together First Nations writers to examine love in all its tones and textures. Written in the aftermath of his wife\u2019s sudden death, Bob Carr\u2019s<\/strong> memoir Bring Back Yesterday<\/a> (Allen and Unwin, March) draws on five decades of devotion.<\/p>\n