conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled Only Ever Always about Clara, Claire, Library with the genre: Children's Books, Growing Up & Facts of Life.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 8 Up-After 13-year-old Claire receives the news that her beloved Uncle Charlie is in the hospital, she retreats into sleep and the escape of her dreams. Clara lives in a shadowy, dystopian reflection of this world, alone but for a friend who cares for her and her romantic relationship with a street-savvy boy. Both girls are dealt harsh blows that each must face in order to move on. They are connected by a music box that allows them to interact with each other and the separate realms they inhabit. This fantasy novel is imaginative, thought-provoking, and unique. The story switches back and forth between the two protagonists, keeping the plot moving and giving readers a chance to see how their stories respond to each other's. As Clara struggles to survive in her depleted world, Claire is working through her emotions and moving into young adulthood, losing her innocence and gaining more knowledge of herself. Clara is the vehicle she uses to do so, but Clara is a well-formed character in her own right. The viewpoint switches are abrupt but the connections between the girls' lives become clearer as the book continues. Overall this novel is distinctive and refreshing.-Elizabeth Jakubowski, formerly at Watervliet Public Library, NY(c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first four paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Only Ever Always
  A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the National Library of Australia: www.trove.nla.gov.au
  Groom's still dreaming, looking past what is into his imaginings. 'In my dream we crossed the river.'
  Crossing the river is the kind of mad thing Groom would say, Groom who can't always tell the difference between folly and sense. I think about the dank sickly greenness, the greasy things that hunt in the river's shadow.
  In the deep of me I wouldn't mind an adventure, but I aint laying bare myself to Groom, not when he's in a mood for calling folly sense. And I aint giving myself over to hoping. Hoping is what unstitches you, leaving you open for other things to waft in, like fear. Like hopelessness. 'And aint I free?' I grump. 'Nobody tells me what to do.'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: If there's no Andrew, it don't matter that I aint got medicine. I can sleep and this night will be over, this long and crowded, empty night. But there is an Andrew, aint there? So that means I have to go and drag my feet and find him and bring him home to live or die. And there's only one person 'sides me what cares where Andrew is, day or night. I gotta go back there. I gotta go back to Doctor's.
  I ignore him. I gotta keep moving. Moving keeps me awake. I feel the dried paint of Boedica's mark on my forehead. It won't last forever, that protection, but it might take me a bit further tonight.
  Groom won't shut up: Doctor's got all the medicine Andrew needs. Doctor wants what you want; he can look after Andrew. Come to me, and I will make you a nest, all feathered and soft and you can hushabye, and I'll feed you honey and sweet in the morn. I'll take care after you. I'll take care after you for only ever always.
  But Doctor don't want what I want, I know. Well, he does, he wants exact same thing as me, with his own twisting. Doctor wants to keep Andrew, and build his self a life round having him. If it's Doctor makes him well, he won't never let him go. Andrew will owe him and owe him and owe him, black and blue.
  And that's why I'm in the street again, treading the same path, this night that takes me looping round and round.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: And that's why I'm in the street again, treading the same path, this night that takes me looping round and round. I can sleep and this night will be over, this long and crowded, empty night. But there is an Andrew, aint there? So that means I have to go and drag my feet and find him and bring him home to live or die. And there's only one person 'sides me what cares where Andrew is, day or night. I gotta go back there. I gotta go back to Doctor's.
  I ignore him. I gotta keep moving. Moving keeps me awake. I feel the dried paint of Boedica's mark on my forehead. It won't last forever, that protection, but it might take me a bit further tonight.
  Groom won't shut up: Doctor's got all the medicine Andrew needs. Doctor wants what you want; he can look after Andrew. Come to me, and I will make you a nest, all feathered and soft and you can hushabye, and I'll feed you honey and sweet in the morn. I'll take care after you. I'll take care after you for only ever always.
  But Doctor don't want what I want, I know. Well, he does, he wants exact same thing as me, with his own twisting. Doctor wants to keep Andrew, and build his self a life round having him. If it's Doctor makes him well, he won't never let him go. Andrew will owe him and owe him and owe him, black and blue.If there's no Andrew, it don't matter that I aint got medicine.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In the period of my life that Fred and I had this conversation I was writing a thesis at Melbourne University as part of a Masters in Creative Writing, entitled Melancholy Ever After, about the effect of melancholy on narrative structure in fairytales. This novel is an indirect response to the ideas I was chasing in that thesis, and the problems I uncovered in fairytales where children remained in their fairytale landscapes, forever locked into their childhood bodies – Peter Pan is really very creepy.
  Sometimes I think if I sit very still, and listen very carefully, my children might reveal something true about the universe. This happens more often than you might think, at least three times a day. Frederique and Una are both in this novel: the parts of myself that are shaped by them, the tangle of their thoughts, the atmosphere they create in the house when it is night and they are sleeping. Even Avery, who was born at the end of the writing process, dreamed himself into the story.
  The phrase 'only ever always' sprang from the space that lies between my friend Zoë and me, a space that stretches and shifts, but never grows apart. We have known each other so long, I am not sure whose memories are whose anymore.
  Finally, spending a day scouring and sifting and quarrying the debris of your imagination is a strange and sometimes lonely job. Martin keeps a light on, and guides me home.