“ Mysterious, suspenseful, and unnerving, The Honey Farm offers a thrilling narrative that examines the distorted realities and conflicting perceptions that often exist in the quietest places ”
Iain Reid, bestselling author of I’m Thinking of Ending Things
“ A seductive, menacing thriller overflowing with secrets ”
Sydney Morning Herald
“ Lye writes splendidly and with great feeling and sensuality about the natural world . . . a story that grows more sinister as the drought grips harder ”
Good Reading Magazine
“ Mysterious and unsettling ”
“ A masterful debut ”
April 16, 2018
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April 16, 2018
Listen. It starts with the bees.
All day long the low, throttling hum of movement, the moment of liftoff—the bass note that never goes away. Then, swelling from the sidelines as day falls, comes the digital tick of tobacco-brown crickets—percussion—chkchking like an automated sprinkler, chrpchrping like needy birds. In come the fiddling grasshoppers—strings—from the balcony of trees, birch, poplar, and pine, followed by the lazy, peripatetic buzz of a fly. The high whine of mosquitos—the fugue—soars above the rest.
You will not be able to hear the bees whispering, and you would not understand their secrets even if you could. What you will hear is a hungry, unearthly cringe: the rub of wings as they fly. A science—no, a magic—that you will never know. The sticky slurp of suction, nectar, thirst, sex. It is nothing at all like love.
Look. The gluey honey is cracking from the cloud-grey hive bubbling from the branch; it’s cracking too from the ceiling where the colony has swarmed.
Open mouth. Blood on the teeth.
It starts with the bees, and it’ll end this way too.Continue Reading