From Notebook to Novel: Trudy Adams' Journey in Writing Desolate Beauty

Spoiler alert – this blog contains information about the entire story of Desolate Beauty, including the ending.

I began my first book, Desolate Beauty, at 17. I still remember sitting on the sandstone steps outside my high school library one afternoon, jotting down notes in my English exercise book as to how the story might unfold and what the characters could be named. It never occurred to me at that point that it might be published one day – I just had a love for stories and wanted to see what it was like to write an entire book. I particularly wanted to write an Australian, Christian story, but one that was relevant to the gritty struggles teenagers can face. I often felt that the Christian, teenage fiction books I was reading at the time were sweet and idealistic, touching only briefly on some of the more challenging experiences I had seen adolescents around me face. Rather than from personal experience, however, my interest in this area was also a precursor to my entry into social work at a later date – a fascination with humanity’s capacity for resilience and a desire to walk alongside them through challenges, crises, and trauma. I was, and still am, interested in people and how they recover.

Desolate Beauty was therefore not intended to showcase a group of characters who act ethically all of the time, or who have an identity grounded in unwavering faith. Rather, it was written to capture the brokenness of families, the moral injuries that decisions made against a person’s inner values can cause, and the challenge of trying to do the right thing when your heart wants to do something else. It’s about the role of faith in the middle of that. It’s about the power of relationships to heal, which Elizabeth’s reluctant friendship with Jill ultimately achieves through Jill’s persistence and unwavering loyalty. Overall, Elizabeth is an example of a young person choosing to inhabit a certain identity, and then rebuilding that identity as she finds out about God. Certainly, it is a Christian book, yet the primary intention is not necessarily to evangelise, but to reflect on how faith thus informs identity and supports a recovery from crisis.  

The main antagonist is Elizabeth’s mother, Karina, a complex character whose behaviour is in many ways the result of a terrible sexual assault that occurred in her late teens. It’s important to note that Karina is not villanised for what was done to her, but for the years of verbal and emotional abuse she perpetrated towards her family, particularly Elizabeth, from whose young perspective the story is written. Elizabeth’s decision to call her ‘Karina’ instead of ‘Mum’ demonstrates Elizabeth’s need to separate the harmful person from the mother she wished she’d had, her only way of controlling the role and reach of Karina in her life.

Karina’s life and behaviour is contrasted with her sister’s, that is, Elizabeth’s Aunt Judy. Judy was a victim of family violence in her early twenties and suffered trauma, too, but her faith framed a different pathway forward for her. That’s not to say that Judy’s behaviour or her life was always thereafter perfect, or that I believe her faith fixed everything. Faith in her life is more so highlighted in how she treats others despite her trauma. That is, with love. This is the difference Elizabeth particularly experiences, and Elizabeth’s and the others’ desire for Judy and Jarret (Elizabeth’s father) to come together – knowing that, ultimately, neither of them would commit adultery – simply demonstrates their overall, child-like wish for a complete and loving family after years of disruption and pain.

Some may feel the ending falls into the idealism I was trying to avoid, but, as in all my stories, I wanted to end with hope: to say to young people that suffering exists and its impact is real, but that things can get better, that healing can come, that new life springs from the ashes. For me, the positive ending doesn’t mean a simple stop to all the challenges for the family, either. I picture Elizabeth continuing to struggle to resolve her feelings towards her mother, and to rebuild her relationship with Kate. I see Judy and Jarret grappling with guilt about the new opportunity before them, knowing it has only come about as a result of Karina’s death. I imagine Liam and Adina leaving the only home they’ve known and facing an uncertain future. But hope remains, just as the land continues to have a beauty even amidst its droughts and fires – even in its desolation.

Bringing the story together required research about life in the country, including conversations with those who have worked on farms, and a manuscript appraisal process, which included having the draft read and assessed by a professional who then provided strong critique – a confronting experience! Through the latter, though, I learnt about the need to be concise, and ultimately cut out about 70,000 words from my draft. In my view, this made the story stronger and better paced. It was an important learning in my journey as a writer, as was the overall process of completing Desolate Beauty, which I don’t believe I could have learnt any other way. As someone who has spent the following years working directly with victims of abuse, trauma, neglect, and family violence, it is interesting to reflect on how the Christian faith continues to be salve for so many, as it was for Elizabeth and her family – not eliminating suffering, but bringing hope in an ever broken world.

‘This land that was desolate is become like the garden of Eden.’ Ezekiel 36:35.