A massive thank you to netgalley and the publishers for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The Girl on the Page by John Purcel gives the reader a look at what the writing and publishing industry is like. I am a big fan of books that talk about books so when I read the synopsis to this one, I was sold.
I have struggled since reading this one to write a review…. It seems many others feel this way as well. This was a quick and easy to read novel. I enjoyed it but I didn’t love it. Like many others I found Amy’s character hard to connect with, she was a bit of a B****. That said, I loved the insight into the publishing industry, and I would recommend other’s read this too if that is something they are interested in.

Review published on Booklover Book Reviews website: http://bookloverbookreviews.com/2018/10/the-girl-on-the-page-by-john-purcell-book-review.html

What a read! Amy was such a tumultuous character! Mr Purcell creates characters you are enchanted with one minute and then just want to walk away from the next. A no holes barred read that shocks, and grips with drama but a read that you cannot help but feel sympathy. Some truly unexpected outcomes in the novel, but a novel I could gladly read agin in the years to come.
Review copy received from HarperCollins Publishers via Netgalley

I really enjoyed this rather provocative tale of what goes on on the lives of authors and editors and publishing.
Amy is hellbent on destroying her life, she drinks excessively, picks up stray men for one night stands and in general has too much money to care about much else. She made her money by being a ghost writer for the biggest selling author at the present (I am thinking Lee Child here).
When she is sent to help a renown literary author get her latest book in shape, a nearly 80 year old women, she starts to see life differently.
I truly hope this isn’t what the publishing industry is like, Hollywood on steroids!

After reading the Prologue of The Girl On The Page I stopped reading. I didn’t like the character Amy and didn’t like what I had read. It took courage for me to return, to read Chapter 1. This is where I met Helen and Malcolm and from then on I was captivated by this story BUT I still didn’t like Amy. However Amy really didn’t like Amy either so I felt justified in my initial reaction to her.
Amy’s world collides with that of Helen and Malcolm and while the result is explosive the journey it follows is unexpected.

This is actually quite an extraordinary story! It is the inside of the publishing world; of authors, editors and everything else that goes with it. It is this and so much more than this.

At the end I am left reeling and feel quite overwhelmed.

I am so glad that I continued to read The Girl On The Page because it is indeed a novel that is exceptional. Highly recommended!

Thank you to Netgalley and HarperCollins Publishers Australia for an ebook copy to read and review.

Book blurb...
Two women, two great betrayals, one path to redemption. A punchy, powerful and page-turning novel about the redemptive power of great literature, from industry insider, John Purcell.
Amy Winston is a hard-drinking, bed-hopping, hot-shot young book editor on a downward spiral. Having made her name and fortune by turning an average thriller writer into a Lee Child, Amy is given the unenviable task of steering literary great Helen Owen back to publication.
When Amy knocks on the door of their beautiful townhouse in north west London, Helen and her husband, the novelist Malcolm Taylor, are conducting a silent war of attrition. The townhouse was paid for with the enormous seven figure advance Helen was given for the novel she wrote to end fifty years of making ends meets on critical acclaim alone. The novel Malcolm thinks unworthy of her. The novel Helen has yet to deliver. The novel Amy has come to collect.
Amy has never faced a challenge like this one. Helen and Malcolm are brilliant, complicated writers who unsettle Amy into asking questions of herself - questions about what she values, her principles, whether she has integrity, whether she is authentic. Before she knows it, answering these questions becomes a matter of life or death.
From ultimate book industry insider, John Purcell, comes a literary page-turner, a ferocious and fast-paced novel that cuts to the core of what it means to balance ambition and integrity, and the redemptive power of great literature.
‘Fizzy, ferocious, and ice-pick sharp, packed with wit and heart -- think The Devil Wears Prada by way of Bret Easton Ellis. Gulp it down. Or savor it slowly. Just read it’ – AJ Finn, author of international bestseller The Woman in the Window
'A slick, sharp novel about books and relationships, drenched in delicious insider detail from the book industry. Impossible not to enjoy.' Matt Haig
'In The Girl on the Page, John Purcell triumphs with a scalpel in one hand and his heart in the other. It is a gripping, dark comedy of a novel which eviscerates the cynicism of contemporary publishing while uttering a cri du coeur for what is happening to writers and readers this century. Through this dark comedy - I squealed with laughter, page after page - flash questions about cultural life that Purcell asks but leaves us to ponder.' Blanche d'Alpuget
'A juicy page turner that takes a scalpel to the literary world, written with deep insider intel and a gleeful sense of mischief, The Girl on the Page is a wickedly clever, razor-sharp satire of lust, betrayal and ambition.' Caroline Baum

My thoughts…
Like others, I’m struggling to review this book. Is that a good thing for a novel? I’m not sure.
I admit to wanting to read this because of the hype and because the author has a big profile in the book biz. But Girl on a Page has left me confused and that’s not what I look for in a good read.
There is no doubt the author has a way with words and a story to tell. Some of the issues raised will make for great book club discussion and the author’s affinity with books and the publishing biz gives this story an intriguing twist.
I thought the publishing biz relied on labels. Categorising a book into a specific genre is important for many reasons. I’m not sure how this novel is shelved. General Fiction? Literary? Erotica? Some of it reads like soft porn. As a result, what this book has done (for me) is highlight the need for change. Perhaps it’s time the industry introduced a reading guide, similar to what they do on the TV, so that a reader can make informed choses (eg know how much emphasis there is on things like swear words.)
Call me a fuddy-duddy, but in my opinion the use of swear words was a bit OTT in this one. I get that Amy is young and ballsy and I got that she liked to swear from the get-go. The ‘F’ word could have been used less liberally and I would have still got the character. Unfortunately, I tired quickly of the language and started skimming pages.
I’m sure this book will sell well because of all the hype and the insight into the book biz. Not my favourite book this year.

I had no idea what to expect going into this book. I'd seen some reviews around but most really only touched on the fact that John Purcell (who's well-known and heavily involved in the book / publishing industry here in Australia) had offered us an insider's view into that world. Almost all reviews I'd seen though, were overwhelmingly positive. 

As someone who tends to spurn Literary fiction (with a capital L) because I don't usually understand what the f*ck I'm reading, I was intrigued about this book which kinda centres around the perception there are two extremes to publishing.... the sell-out prolific commercial fiction author who makes lots of money vs the Literary fiction author, who's somewhat esoteric and learned, who wins literary prizes but makes no money.

The story unfolds predominantly from Helen and Amy's points of view. Though Malcolm (and their son Dennis, briefly) host we readers as well. Helen's story is told in third person, whereas Amy's is told in first person so we're very much in her head, which probably makes her more likeable than might otherwise be.

She's a bit of a bitch quite frankly... not particularly nice to anyone and kinda prides herself on her heavy drinking and sleeping-around lifestyle. She also sees herself as a bit of a genius though, having created a popular series of books with an author using a fairly formulaic approach - which she happily boasts of.

I don't tend to think of myself as much of a prude but I was somewhat agog at Amy's sexual exploits. Purcell only relays them in a superficial (but explicit) way, but I would have liked to delve deeper. I mean, it doesn't take a psychologist to know she's using sex for more than sexual pleasure but some of her (Purcell's) thoughts and descriptions about sex (and its power / destruction) are interesting and I would have liked to see them explored more.

"Not a word. Not a kiss. Ruined me. Ruined...."

"He was killing me. He knew what he was doing..." p 53

"Why wouldn't I want him to destroy me whenever he wanted to." p 173

Because we're 'in' Amy's head we know that she's fighting her own battle between good and evil. Well... between knowing that she's a bit of a fuck-up (and very occasionally thinking she needs to make some changes) and realising she's whip-smart and cynically / pragmatically settled for the life she has. She's passionate about books - that's for sure - but there's also a sense that she's shed something of her deeper love of words and the craft of writing when she opted for the path she's taken.

And we know (cos she tells us) that the august Helen and bombastic Malcolm, along with their passion for big L literature and authenticity (at all costs), hold a mirror up to Amy confronting her with the choices she's made.

When we meet them the 50+ year long bond between literary darlings is kinda broken. They're in their late 70s and Helen has only fairly recently 'sold out' as Malcolm (and her former editor) put it, taking a large advance to produce something more commercially palatable. It's a relief for Helen who's hated the lack of financial stability, but Malcolm pines for their past life and their shared office with its mismatched desks.

"He felt as the chair and books did, completely out of place in this new house. He too was rubbed around the edges and stained. This house was too beautiful, too clean, too expansive. And white. So white. He was a stain here. A living stain." p 50

Initially there's a polite but simmering antipathy between the pair. They talk. They have their usual literary discussions, but things have changed. They both know it. I'm not sure the disintegrating relationship was explained to the extent I would have liked. Although perhaps it's been happening for a long time, as (at one point) Helen describes her commitment to her work and Malcolm as 'total' (to the detriment of their son and other possible friendships).

Her marriage was a wall blocking intimacy with others. p 113

Malcolm's behaviour becomes erratic. Everyone around him suspects there's something medically wrong, but... perhaps not. 

His disdain towards his Man Booker nomination is intriguing. His book garnered little attention. It was hated by his agent and publisher, but they published it nonetheless. Even Malcolm describes it as "a cancer of a book that should be excised from the body of literature before it spreads." p 291

I didn't fully understand why he wrote it. Was it a vanity project? What was the source of his regret? He seemingly knew it was cynical and dark but pushed it into the hands of his agent et al nonetheless. And he's harbouring even more antipathy toward his current work which he describes as darker than his last.

"Darker than anything I've written. Darker than I thought possible. I can't shake it, either. It sits upon me like a blanket wherever I am, blocking all light. There's no hope. No redemption. Nothing." p 96

I must admit I spent much of this novel feeling angry at Malcolm - because of his lofty ideals, but more specifically his treatment of his wife. I assumed or hoped his rude disdain or pomposity was a result of an illness rather than an indication he'd always pretty much been a bastard and his wife - while she met his expectations - was one of few people he loved and respected.

Purcell writes well, cleverly and eloquently.

Character-wise there were little nuances that irked me - an occasional inconsistency or incongruity in the relationship between Helen and Malcolm as well as the way in which Amy viewed them both (and they her).

I must admit I found some of the sex scenes a bit confronting and just kinda crass in parts. I know it was meant to give us some insight into Amy but they seemed incongruous with the rest of the book and I probably could have done with a little less detail.

Having said that I recognise there's meant to be an extremity / dichotomy between Helen and Malcolm's vs Amy's lifestyles but there are also a couple of dire moments in the latter part of the book - one quite violent and seemed shockingly stark against everything else. (And too quickly recovered from, perhaps?)

What I really loved about this book however was its take on literature, publishing, commercial success, genre snobbery and the book industry in general. 

"Great writing is rare. With so little time on this planet, shouldn't we spend at least some of that time getting acquainted with the writers most often acknowledged as exceptional?

Every flash of brilliance in these current years is but a flash. Almost an accident rather than a consistent effort. A jazz flourish rather than a symphony. And we honour these flashes. There is no growth to greatness, just bursts of inspiration that fall into place and never built upon." p 74

As a contemplatory writer I really liked the thoughts on writing and the industry. Everything from the appointment of non-literary lovers into senior positions in publishing houses ('corporate interlopers'), to the bottom line in publishing to awards and prize giving. I wondered (a few times) if Purcell was using the book to voice some of his own opinions and interestingly I very much agreed with some (and know the sentiment around the recognition of female writers is probably a controversial one).

I realise this is a really long review. I think it's an indication I obviously very much enjoyed this book, but was equally frustrated by a couple of elements and characters The latter obviously are meant to be irksome. Perhaps the other elements are to be debated as well. It would - for that reason - be an excellent bookclub book.

This is a really hard book to review - I am so torn. Some parts were .... well, no words really ... that bad. Then other parts were just brilliant. Presented as a window into the world of publishing (a world I would not want to enter by the way, if this is anything to go by) I think this book suffers a real sense of a lack of identity.

I will confess that I did not fully appreciate this book as it attempted to tick too many boxes for me, in too short a space. In one chapter there might be drama filled angst, another in your face erotica, skip to the next chapter that was filled with horrific sadness, then blend in another on a strong literary stance regarding literature in today’s modern world. Is it any wonder I was confused as it really was quite disconcerting.

It’s rather sad as this book held much potential but got lost in too many threads. Many a reader would appreciate some sort of indication, for example, for the sections that can really only be described as soft porn. Maybe it could have better focused more on character analysis but that was lost in trashy encounters that really did not contribute a great deal to the overall plot. A stronger focus on the characters of Helen and Malcolm, representative of this clash of what constitutes good literature, would have been amazing. For herein lay its strength.

‘What good is fiction if it doesn’t allow you to practise at living life?’

The epilogue was incredible! Here, finally, at last I could see what lay at the root for the motivation for this book (for me). Indeed what is literature and how do we know if it’s any good? Is it pure and meaningful or is it there to sell books? Many a book and author comes into the spotlight (‘Poisonwood Bible, Atonement and The Life of Pi. They sell millions of copies and get mistaken for literature.’) as lying just beneath the surface is a truly insightful proclamation on what makes a good read!

‘There’s uphill reading and downhill reading. As you can imagine, uphill reading requires more effort. Downhill, less so. Readers will do both in their reading lives.’

The Girl on the Page will certainly take you on an undulating ride, with you never knowing what the next page will bring - sex and scandal! Sadness and shock! Release and redemption! This is a book that is multi faceted in every way and so very complex, but at its core lies a brilliantly eloquent portrayal of great literature versus commercial page turners. I will leave the verdict up to you.

“Great writing is rare. With so little time on this planet, shouldn’t we spend at least some of that time getting acquainted with the writers most often acknowledged as exceptional?”



This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher and provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release

The Girl on the Page, by John Purcell, is a highly entertaining, brilliantly written novel about the clash between popular fiction and literary fiction; 20th century and 21st century feminism; wisdom and youth.

Amy is a twenty-something publisher and co-writer of the successful Jack Cade blockbuster franchise. She’s made squillions of dollars and has no problem spending it.

Helen is a literary icon in her late 70s who has lived in the same tiny flat with her literary husband for 50 years. She’s signed a 7-figure book deal for her latest manuscript. Literary purists, including her own husband, are appalled and have accused her of ‘selling out’.

We meet Amy while she’s sitting on the toilet at 4am, editing a book on a laptop which she broke into. It belongs to the guy she went home with last night; the toilet is also his. Amy’s sections of the narrative are told in first person. We get to be right inside her head. It’s not exactly a relaxing place to be.

And so that is how it is with me. I’m an insomniac. I drink way too much. I take naughty pics. I like to fuck strangers. And I’m a workaholic who will edit books on any computer I can break into.

Helen is the complete polar opposite. Helen and her husband, Malcolm, write literary fiction. Malcolm’s latest novel has been longlisted for the Booker. They live in a world which admires old-fashioned values. Making money from art is to be eschewed rather than pursued.

Two worlds collide: When Amy met Helen

Since Helen signed the book deal she’s stopped returning phone calls and failed to submit the manuscript. Her publisher is threatening to send in the lawyers to recoup her 7-figure advance.

Amy is sent in to salvage the situation – and to ensure the resulting novel is ‘commercial’ enough to earn back the massive advance.

The first meeting between the old world and the new is electric:

‘Good,’ said Malcolm smiling, ‘there is hope. The only reason an opportunist gets upset at being called an opportunist is because they once had ideals.’

But the smile only angered Amy further. She was as tall as Malcolm and she leant in, bringing her face close to his, and asked, ‘What good are ideals in the world we live in?’

Malcolm looked back into Amy’s angry eyes, and asked in return, with great composure, ‘What good is life without them?’

Philosophy, feminism and fun

Interspersed with thoughtful philosophy (mostly Helen and Malcolm) plus lots and lots of sex and alcohol (Amy), The Girl on the Page manages to have a dig at itself from the very title page. As Liam, Amy’s bestselling co-author, explains:

‘Girl on Girl is the working title of the new Jack Cade. It’s a joke. Girl on the Train. Gone Girl. Girl with All the Gifts. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo… And they’re all about women.’

Feminism: the generational divide

One of the core themes of the book is the exploration of why older women often don’t identify with young feminists.

Helen Owen is a self-professed feminist. But she’s also uncomfortable with the modern brand of feminism. Malcolm refuses to attend the Women Writers’ Guild Award ceremony with her. As a result, Helen is so flustered she goes totally off-script in her acceptance speech:

‘But it was on reading my speech before coming on stage tonight, and reading in it my own ambivalence concerning the gender-specific award, that it struck me that he was right not to come. And further, that I was wrong to come. For any event that makes a man like my husband unwelcome is, at some very deep level, mistaken. So if you don’t mind, I think I will forgo the honour and make my way home to my husband.’

The novel’s subtle comment on Helen’s attack on feminism – apart from Amy’s very vocal ones – is brilliant. We move straight to a scene the morning after: Helen has just mopped the floors and is moving towels from the washing machine to the dryer. She then heads into the kitchen to clean up after Malcolm after he’s made coffee.

It’s clear that Helen does the bulk of the housework even though they are both full-time writers. They are of roughly equal talent and success. And Helen has sold her most recent manuscript for a 7-figure sum.

But we don’t need feminism anymore, right? Our parent’s generation already won that battle, right?

Commercial vs literary fiction: the battle is on

I love to argue with people about commercial vs literary fiction. I come to the argument armed with a degree in literature plus extensive experience in writing (and teaching people to write) in plain English. I strongly believe that the best novels are both insightful and brilliantly written (literary) and appeal to a broad audience (commercial). Accessible art, if you like.

The Girl on the Page sets this battle up explicitly and then explores it through the characters. Malcolm is firmly in the corner of literary fiction, Amy represents commercial fiction and Helen is trapped somewhere in between, desperate to enjoy the best of both worlds (money and great writing).

Why James Patterson is like baked beans

Malcolm has extremely set views of commercial and literary fiction. I love this little speech from him, in which he compares James Patterson to baked beans:

Malcolm raised his hand and held it up like a traffic cop. ‘I love Helen [his wife]. I love Daniel [his son]. I love literature. But I also love baked beans. I loved baked beans very, very much. Especially on a baked potato. Surely Helen and Daniel mean more to me than baked beans? That word “love” must have very different applications. So I’m a writer and James Patterson is a writer, both of us are writers. Which of us is baked beans?’

Literary fiction = poor, starving artist

The novel beautifully illustrates the massive financial gulf between the rewards for writers of each type of fiction. You can either be an entertainer who writes bestsellers, gets 7-figure advances and live in a beautiful terrace house in West London.

Or you can be an artist who writes critically acclaimed literary fiction and spend your entire life living in a crappy flat in a Brixton estate, wondering if you’ll be able to pay next month’s gas bill.

Never the twain shall meet.

Literary fiction will make you see all the shades of grey

Literary fiction starts to shake Amy’s blind confidence after spending too much time with Malcolm and Helen and their questioning, probing art.

It’s such a wonderful allegory for commercial vs. literary fiction. Commercial fiction offers certainty, predictability. It’s entertainment. Literary fiction is all greys. It’s high art. It won’t make you feel better. Amy muses:

She lay back on her bed. Her life had taken a wrong turn when she agreed to meet Helen. Everything was fine until then. Or at least she thought it had been fine. No, she corrected, it had been fine. Now it was shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Everywhere she turned there was judgement. Everything she did was judged. Helen and Malcolm judged. They looked down on Amy from on high and judged.

And they were harsh judges. They made her see.

She didn’t want to see.

The literary edge of commercial fiction

Personally, I think the best novels walk the line between commercial and literary fiction. There is no point in writing if nobody is going to read it. And if nobody wants to read it, can it really be called good writing anyway? Amy tells Helen:

‘I think that’s where you new novel sits, on the literary edge of commercial fiction. It has bestseller written all over it, but it will also make people think. And because of that it will sell extremely well. I’m sure of it. Most people won’t know whether it’s literature or not.’

This is how you bring people towards ideas – by making it easy for them. By giving them one or two ideas to mull over while being entertained as well (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, head over to Netflix and watch a few episodes of The Good Place).

The argument FOR literary fiction

And yet… sometimes Malcolm makes a whole lot of sense when he espouses the importance of literary fiction:

‘To me, literature is the fastest and surest route to understanding something of this life. At eighty-one, I know how brief our lives are. Mine has flashed by. And any help making sense of the world is still welcome. The quicker the better. What is literature? Literature is life’s cheat sheet.’

Let me get this out of the way: I didn't not like this. The writing style was very accessible, and the plot moved quickly enough to keep me entertained. Nevertheless, I felt that the book was a bit unfocused - like it wasn't quite sure what story it was trying to tell. Trying to appeal to too many audiences.

The story focuses on three central characters. Amy, who is the only character we have the honour of receiving in first person, is a kind-of messy, kind-of lovely, book editor who is obsessed with writing the next bestseller. She is the best at her job. She finds herself, however, caught up in editing the legendary Helen Owen's new book, which her publishing firm has payed millions for. We don't know why. So anyway, Helen, our second character, is an elderly author who is widely respected by her literary peers (that's a word that pops up a lot in this book - literary - I'll come back to that). Her husband, Malcolm (our third character), is also a novelist. Their son, Daniel, is also??? somehow a main character. Basically, Amy finds herself living in Helen and Malcolm's granny flat while she works on editing Helen's new "corporate sellout" book. That's the entire plot, essentially.

But the story thrives on relying that its reader loves books. Luckily, I love books. The author obviously does too, and this entire novel is a homage to a lifetime spent reading, and learning, and collecting words. Purcell knows the book industry, and he taps into this so perfectly that it gives the story life. Much of the story is spend with the characters warring over the quality vs quantity of books, operating under the assumption that bestselling novels have no literary quality (ok...). The concept of literature and what constitutes it is argued throughout the book, which was, to be honest, gets kind of dull towards the end. The story is carried by its characters. I love Amy. I tolerated most of the other characters. I hated the rest. Amy was enough to keep me reading though, and I'm truly glad I did finish this book.

Additionally, I had trouble understanding the book. Is it a drama? A tragedy A romance? An erotica? You can't please everyone, sorry. I found it very disconcerting to skip from a long chapter reflecting on Malcolm's literary inadequacy to a fairly explicit Amy-in-the-sack scene. I guess that''s just me though. The pacing kind of confused me as well; relationships between the main characters seemed to spontaneously blossom. It's difficult to know whether these are deliberate choices that went straight over my head (to be honest, its likely), or whether the author just had so much to say that it flowed disjointedly and confused.

I also didn't find it to be quite the page-turner I'd been promised. I was never compelled to keep reading, I don't think there's enough substance for that. But, it is a very thoughtful, accessible book; maybe heartbreaking depending on which characters you most relate to. I just felt like I didn't get it. I probably won't be re-reading it to try to, though.

PS; I can't believe this is the second book I've read in a row that featured the real Kate Middleton, Duchess of Cambridge, as an actual character.

This book offers betrayal, ruin, redemption and sex. It is a very well written, page turning and clever look at the literary world.
I loved the exposure of the characters in all their selfish, ruinous glory and fell in love with them regardless. The final chapters of the book were heartbreaking and had me enthralled. My only one complaint is that I would like to once see written a female character who enjoys sex with multiple partners who is not on a self destructive downward spiral! I know it is central to Amy's character in the novel and I absolutely loved her and her self destructiveness. I guess it is more of a general complaint for fiction overall.

The Girl on the Page by John Purcell is a behind the scenes look at the world of book publishing. As an avid reader I was looking forward to reading this. I certainly got more than I bargained for and I just loved it all!!

Amy Winston is a young, hotshot editor on her way to ruin. She sleeps around, drinks too much and says it like she sees it. She doesn't have to work but she's loves what she does. In order to save her job she is sent to help literary great Helen Owen with her next book. Both women need to deliver to save themselves. In the backstabbing world of publishing they do what they must to survive.

There is a lot of drama, sex, emotions and writers in this book. If you love to read you will love this book.

Thanks to Harper Collins Publishing Australia for my advanced copy of this book to read. All opinions are my own and are in no way biased