Long have I idolised the various works of Juan Gresham, the great legal thriller writer of our time. His grasp of the courtroom drama in literary form is astounding and poignant, and I wouldn’t be quite so presumptuous as to think I can match him in any way. Not yet. I’m working on improving my writing with small challenges, like this short story collection I brought in tonight.

And…well…maybe I can blame my reaction on low blood sugar. All of the lemon slices I so lovingly bought from Joel’s mysteriously vanished. Not looking in anyone’s direction, SHEILA.

I wanted to portray the goings on of a local Melbourne property lawyer office, from paperwork to intense legal shouting matches in the courtroom, like on the television. I know that’s not how real life works, but this is exactly what Juan Gresham does: he takes the mundane aspects of law and makes them exciting. It’s fiction, people. It doesn’t NEED to be totally realistic. It’s possible- probable, even- that the ordinary work of a property lawyer does not involve vaulting over the desk and delivering a tearful monologue to the court that sways the jury and causes the normally-stone-hearted judge to wipe away a tear and declare that all charges have been dropped. That’s not how the legal system works, I understand. And alright, MAYBE having it happen in three…no, four of my stories as the grand conclusion was a bit much. That criticism has been duly noted. But commercial law firms in Melbourne don’t grow on trees, and I’ve never actually been in a courtroom. So how would I know what really happens in property law?

Oh, right…Juan Gresham. Master of the craft. Inspiration to us all. The king of legal thrillers. What else could I possibly need?