A good night’s sleep is one of my great loves in life. Very rarely do I allow anything, or anyone, to stand in the way of me and my precious eight hours of shut-eye.
Until recently, that is.
In the past six months, one woman has succeeded in forcing me to abandon sleep and stay up late into the wee hours to devour her books. Her name is Liane Moriarty, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she’s completely taken over my life.
It all started last winter when I finally bought the novel I'd been hearing and reading about for years: Big Little Lies. And yes, before you say anything, I know I'm really late to the bandwagon on this one.
From the first chapter I was hooked, and my obsession with Liane Moriarty kicked into gear. I was soon telling anyone who'd listen just how brilliant she was.
Flash forward to now, and the colourful spines of Moriarty's books are quickly monopolising my bookshelf. Just this week I've just finished her latest release, Truly Madly Guilty, easily the best thing I've ever purchased in an airport.
Listen: Mia Freedman interviews Liane Moriarty for her No Filter podcast. (Post continues after audio.)
Every time I read one of Moriarty's books — I've also ticked off Three Wishes and The Husband's Secret — I've morphed into a woman possessed. It's been a real challenge to focus on anything else in my life until I've devoured the final chapter.
Those delicious plot twists and trademark 'big reveals' have become something of an addiction. Waiting for the revelation of what actually happened at the infamous barbecue in Truly Madly Guilty almost destroyed me — and let's not mention the one really sad chapter I didn't see coming AT ALL that left me crying over brunch in a cafe. Ahem.
Not only do I stay up way too late reading "just one more chapter" (which quickly turns into "just eight more chapters"), but I find myself thinking about Moriarty's brilliantly-observed characters in my idle moments. In fact, in these recent months I've probably spent more time with these fictional people than my own flesh-and-blood friends. Sorry, guys.