Lorrie Hope has a steady job, a partner she adores and two wonderful kids. All she wants is to get promoted, love her body and end global warming. By Friday. What could possibly go wrong?
THE OPPOSITE OF SUCCESS
by Eleanor Elliott Thomas
Text Publishing (Australia), October 2023
Lorrie Hope is about to have the worst day of her life.
Lorrie has been stuck for years in a mediocre job at the local council, and she’s applied for a promotion she’s not entirely sure she wants. Her best friend of twenty years, Alex, is stuck in a very different mess—one that involves Lorrie’s rakish ex, Ruben; or, more accurately, his wife. Oh, and Ruben’s boss happens to be the mining magnate Sebastian Glup, who is sponsoring Lorrie’s most important project at work…
As the day spirals from bad to worse to frankly unhinged, Lorrie and Alex are forced to reconsider what they can expect from life, love and middle management. THE OPPOSITE OF SUCCESS is a hilarious debut novel about our work, motherhood, friendship and ambition.
Eleanor Elliott Thomas worked for many years as a lawyer before devoting herself to writing full-time. She is a graduate of the Faber Writing Academy’s ‘Writing a Novel’ course, in which she was taught by Sophie Cunningham and Emily Bitto. She lives with her partner and two daughters in Naarm/Melbourne. THE OPPOSITE OF SUCCESS is her first novel.

Cleo has a few things going on. Two beautiful kids and a less beautiful ex-husband, a share house arrangement with her long-term bestie Jude (complete with a third child, also beautiful) and an underperforming florist business. Actually, the shop could be beautiful too, it’s just that Cleo hasn’t got time to think about it.
In the heat of a long summer Ned hunts rabbits in a river valley, hoping the pelts will earn him enough money to buy a small boat. His two brothers are away at war, their whereabouts unknown. His father and older sister struggle to hold things together on the family orchard, Limberlost.
On the cusp of thirty, Coral learns that a thing is growing inside her body. It is not necessarily a complete disaster, she tells herself. I’m okay, she tells herself. Soon the thing inside her is the size of a plum. ‘Little Plum,’ she says, ‘Little Plum, I love you.’ And she wants to love it, the little plum. It’s just that she can’t yet think of it as what it is becoming: a baby, and not just a fruity morsel.