Lauren Draper on ‘The Museum of Broken Things’
Lauren Draper’s debut YA novel The Museum of Broken Things (Text, June) follows 18-year-old Reece, who finds herself living in a small beachside town. With multiple plotlines, and featuring a cast of strong characters, the novel sees Reece navigate romance, friendship, family and her final year of high school to find her place in the world. Reviewer Alida Galati says Draper’s well-crafted dialogue and intriguing storylines had her immediately hooked; she speaks to the author.
Your book was shortlisted for the 2020 Text Prize—congratulations! What drew you to write a coming-of-age novel for a YA audience?
I think young adult is such a fun readership—there’s more freedom to explore, you can be a bit more flexible with the rules, and there’s a heightened sense of emotion that plays out so well on the page. So many ‘firsts’ or ‘lasts’ happen for this age group, and it’s such a transitional period of change—feeling like you’re just starting to find yourself as high school comes to a close, and then suddenly being thrust out into the world. I’ve always loved character-driven stories, so sitting within this bittersweet moment in time feels like a really natural place for me to be. There was never really a thought that I would write anything else, to be honest, and so when the Text Prize came around in 2020 it seemed like the perfect opportunity to submit and see what happened!
You’ve vividly drawn a full cast of characters and there are many interesting narratives, all exploring a variety of themes. What made you choose Reece as the main character, and to present the story through her first-person point of view?
Everyone in this book is a little bit broken (aren’t we all in 2022?!), but Reece is struggling the most to live with the pieces—she really can’t sit with her grief or confront her own failures. Which is understandable, that’s a hard thing to do! But it does mean that out of all the characters in this book, she’s the most resistant to living her life. I thought that was an interesting and authentic way to narrate the novel—she’s not perfect, she makes a lot of mistakes, she stumbles at almost every hurdle. She is, quite frankly, a bit of a mess. I love so many of the characters in this novel, but I was really drawn to her voice and knew that I wanted to view the town of Hamilton through her eyes.
I was completely invested in all the characters’ journeys and was very satisfied with the hopeful ending. If you were to write a sequel or a companion novel, would you focus on Reece or would you be tempted to switch point of view and concentrate on the path of a different character?
While this story does feel ‘complete’ in my mind, I do often find myself wondering what comes next for Miles. I like to think he finds his way in the world, but I’ve never quite decided what exactly that means for him. Plus, it’s not really my decision anymore! Once a book is published, it really belongs to the readers—I’d love to hear what they think, and some theories of his future antics. Otherwise, everyone’s fan-favourite is Theo, but I don’t know if I want to get into the inner workings of his mind! Some things should just be for teenaged boys to work out on their own …
I am glad that the ending felt satisfying for readers, without being too neat. It’s hard with young adult novels, because you want there to be optimism, and the sense that the world is really just beginning to open up with possibilities—but you’re also balancing the line of what’s realistic, and I wanted to show that it’s okay if things don’t go exactly as planned. (That’s so vague but I’m trying to keep this a spoiler-free zone!)
The novel creatively intertwines friendship, romance, mystery and Year 12 school stresses. What compelled you to include heavier themes such as grief and depression—and what do you hope readers will take away from the relationships and experiences you’ve described?
I wanted to write a book about grief, but I didn’t want it to be sad—I know that sounds like a bit of an oxymoron, but bear with me for a minute! I was so conscious that as a reader, and certainly as a teenager, I read books for the escapism. Layering in romance and mystery gave the book some much-needed levity, and it allowed the heavier themes to breathe. I still wanted people to laugh reading this book, and I hope readers will realise that both things can exist together: you can grieve and you can laugh, and it’s okay to feel both emotions at the same time.
I happened to read your book around the time of International Women’s Day celebrations, so I was delighted to see historical references to women’s contributions to medicine and science in the story. Did a personal connection to such strong women inspire this, or an interest in genealogy perhaps?
This novel came together like a puzzle, with the pieces slotting into place over the course of writing. There’s definitely a strong matriarchy in my family, so I’m sure that seeped in to the story! At first, the key idea was simply to explore Reece’s relationship with her grandmother and that sense of loss she feels following her death—but I knew I wanted something more complex than that, so I kept the idea percolating in the back of my mind. I start writing out snippets, creating a general plan, but it was clear that the story was missing a driving force.
The next piece of the puzzle came about completely by accident. I was working at Melbourne University at the time, and one day on the way to a meeting I happened to take a wrong turn and ended up in their Medical History Museum. It’s such a bizarre and brilliant place, and the pieces just slotted together from there. I’d always been interested in medicine (and during a brief crisis of faith, even switched out of my creative writing major to study biology and genetics), so this felt like the perfect opportunity to take that interest and put it on the page. It was difficult, though, to research historical practices and realise how deeply the field had failed women and marginalised communities. With that knowledge, it then felt natural to incorporate these struggles into the story—weaving clues into the past, leaving Reece to discover the pieces.
I loved the Kostakis family … and I can’t help but wonder: was the name inspired by another Australian YA author?!
Ha! A fair question, since I do have a habit of swinging around in my desk chair to eyeball the bookcase for surnames, but this particular name is a nod to an old friend (who, much like Miles, had a penchant for Greek pastries). We used to go dancing with friends on Saturday nights, but we’d sneak out around midnight to an all-night cafe next door to load up on tea and baklava.
Read Alida Galati’s review of The Museum of Broken Things here.
