For the past month I’ve been completely and utterly lost to the world of Isobelle Carmody’s Obernewtyn Chronicles. I’ve cared not for watching television, scrolling through my Instagram feed nor even writing. I rue the time spent working and cooking and sleeping, when ever more pages wait to be devoured. This is not the first time that this has happened. Indeed, this all began – as did for most Obernewtyn fans – many good years ago.
I was fourteen when I read the first four books of the Obernewtyn Chronicles. Those battered, clear-contacted copies from my school library were my portal into Carmody’s world and I was wholeheartedly captivated. Elspeth Gordie was my hero and I clung to her story passionately. As I navigated high school, she navigated a world largely destroyed centuries past by nuclear holocaust, whilst grappling with her psychic powers and the ultimate quest laid out before her.