A review by punkinmuffin
Scrublands by Chris Hammer

3.0

Scrublands reads a bit like a middle-aged, straight, white, cis-male journo's wet dream. Hilariously improbable names (Mandalay Blonde?! Doug Thunkleton??! FFS) and an overly-convoluted plot spoil an otherwise ripping yarn. You can really feel the desert-dry heat radiating off the page. Chris Hammer knows what he's talking about when it comes to the Hay plains and the Riverina. He should do, since he covered it extensively a little over a decade ago, at the height of the last drought. The one before this one. I enjoyed reading this one but can't bring myself to forgive Hammer for the Byzantine machinations within his story and the unlikeliness of many elements. That said, I went all the way to the end because I needed to know whydunnit.