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Frogsong
Caro and Danny grew up side by side at the waterhole. Bound by love, loss and a promise Caro made to Danny’s mother, their lives are entwined. But as Danny spirals into addiction and self-destruction, Caro is caught between loyalty and the need to save herself.
She becomes haunted by memories, by the stories she told herself of the life they’d have, and by the waterhole that shaped them both. From southern Tasmania to Lisbon’s winding streets, she searches for escape from lost dreams, until a return home forces her to confront what it means to let go.
Frogsong is a lyrical and devastating story of love, addiction and the ghosts that shadow us.
She becomes haunted by memories, by the stories she told herself of the life they’d have, and by the waterhole that shaped them both. From southern Tasmania to Lisbon’s winding streets, she searches for escape from lost dreams, until a return home forces her to confront what it means to let go.
Frogsong is a lyrical and devastating story of love, addiction and the ghosts that shadow us.
232 pages, Paperback
Published March 31, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
April 8, 2026
I loved Frogsong and its vivid exploration of grief and its various forms. Melissa Manning captures this in a raw and realistic way.
The story follows Caro and Danny – best friends and lovers, who grew up together at the waterhole. It’s a place that feels like a character itself, and where they spend countless hours across the years.
“Born within weeks of one another, the two of them were entwined, inevitable as the mingling collusion of hydrogen and oxygen.”
I found myself thinking about these characters away from the book – even analysing my own relationships at their respective ages, along with the complexities of grief and the ways it can impact different individuals. It was quite thought-provoking.
I felt like a fly on the wall to Caro and Danny’s relationship, one that I couldn’t look away from. It was hard to put down. Grief was often present, or lurking in shadows, and yet the theme of metamorphosis was life-affirming and beautifully depicted alongside the life cycle of frogs – something reinforced with excellent illustrations by Dale Gilkes.
“Escaping the confines of the waterhole and yet always drawn back.”
Frogsong is an incredibly sensual read, immersive in its descriptions of both addiction and sexuality. I loved how transportive it was too – from Tasmania to Portugal and back. Distinctively Tasmanian, it’s literally set in my backyard, and I found many aspects close to home or relatable. These could easily have been people I know, and this helped ensure I formed a deep connection to the characters.
“Sometimes on a Sunday, they’d catch a bus to Blackmans Bay. Spend the day at the beach - towels and packets of crisps, goon bags pulled from their boxes. Fruity Lexia poured into plastic cups from someone’s backpack.”
Melissa doesn’t waste her words and writes in a style that feels minimalist yet profound, slotting into a hypnotic rhythm that meant chapters flowed effortlessly into the next. I kept wanting to know how things would work out for those involved. I’ll forever have a place in my heart for Angelo and his dog, Derek – the best neighbours. And I thought the ending was great – fitting and poetic.
Frogsong is a memorable depiction of people haunted by the past and bound in grief and loss, trying to navigate the space left behind. It’s about life and death and growth and everything in between. A great novel with plenty of heart by a talented writer – I look forward to reading more from Melissa! One of the best Tasmanian novels I’ve read.
This review can also be found on my blog, where I write about books and feature author interviews. You can read it here.
Many thanks to UQP for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The story follows Caro and Danny – best friends and lovers, who grew up together at the waterhole. It’s a place that feels like a character itself, and where they spend countless hours across the years.
“Born within weeks of one another, the two of them were entwined, inevitable as the mingling collusion of hydrogen and oxygen.”
I found myself thinking about these characters away from the book – even analysing my own relationships at their respective ages, along with the complexities of grief and the ways it can impact different individuals. It was quite thought-provoking.
I felt like a fly on the wall to Caro and Danny’s relationship, one that I couldn’t look away from. It was hard to put down. Grief was often present, or lurking in shadows, and yet the theme of metamorphosis was life-affirming and beautifully depicted alongside the life cycle of frogs – something reinforced with excellent illustrations by Dale Gilkes.
“Escaping the confines of the waterhole and yet always drawn back.”
Frogsong is an incredibly sensual read, immersive in its descriptions of both addiction and sexuality. I loved how transportive it was too – from Tasmania to Portugal and back. Distinctively Tasmanian, it’s literally set in my backyard, and I found many aspects close to home or relatable. These could easily have been people I know, and this helped ensure I formed a deep connection to the characters.
“Sometimes on a Sunday, they’d catch a bus to Blackmans Bay. Spend the day at the beach - towels and packets of crisps, goon bags pulled from their boxes. Fruity Lexia poured into plastic cups from someone’s backpack.”
Melissa doesn’t waste her words and writes in a style that feels minimalist yet profound, slotting into a hypnotic rhythm that meant chapters flowed effortlessly into the next. I kept wanting to know how things would work out for those involved. I’ll forever have a place in my heart for Angelo and his dog, Derek – the best neighbours. And I thought the ending was great – fitting and poetic.
Frogsong is a memorable depiction of people haunted by the past and bound in grief and loss, trying to navigate the space left behind. It’s about life and death and growth and everything in between. A great novel with plenty of heart by a talented writer – I look forward to reading more from Melissa! One of the best Tasmanian novels I’ve read.
This review can also be found on my blog, where I write about books and feature author interviews. You can read it here.
Many thanks to UQP for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
April 20, 2026
I got so deeply into this story that I took on Caro’s pain. And for the first time that I can remember, I have an 🚨Unsatisfactory Ending Alert🚨
For a top-rate review, have a look at Rowan's: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Danny and Caro were born in Tasmania, just weeks apart. Their families were friends and lived close-by in a rural area. When they were young, the two would spend hours each day at the waterhole, playing, drawing, and watching tadpoles turn into frogs.
As they got older, their friendship morphed into something more. They were stuck together like glue and everyone—even Danny and Caro—assumed they’d always be together. But life got in the way, as it tends to do. Danny and his mother were incredibly close. Sadly, she passed away before their first year at Uni and he just could not get over it. Caro tried everything to help. Before she died, Caro made a promise to Danny’s mom that she’d ‘always take care of him’. And she tried so, so hard, but she couldn’t be with him 24/7. And some things are just destined to fail.🙁
In the end, I was heartbroken. Danny and Caro are the kind of characters you can’t help growing attached to. It’s because they’re so REAL! They’re people you know! And when you turn that last page, you miss them.
My friend Rowan liked the way it ended. But I didn’t. We’re all different, I suppose. Some are okay with ambiguity. But, not me. I just didn’t want to see it end like that. I was hoping for more. But as Mick Jagger keeps reminding me, 🎵You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes… you get what you need.🎵
4.5 “Just–like–seasons–people–change–and–not–always–for–the–better” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
For a top-rate review, have a look at Rowan's: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
Danny and Caro were born in Tasmania, just weeks apart. Their families were friends and lived close-by in a rural area. When they were young, the two would spend hours each day at the waterhole, playing, drawing, and watching tadpoles turn into frogs.
As they got older, their friendship morphed into something more. They were stuck together like glue and everyone—even Danny and Caro—assumed they’d always be together. But life got in the way, as it tends to do. Danny and his mother were incredibly close. Sadly, she passed away before their first year at Uni and he just could not get over it. Caro tried everything to help. Before she died, Caro made a promise to Danny’s mom that she’d ‘always take care of him’. And she tried so, so hard, but she couldn’t be with him 24/7. And some things are just destined to fail.🙁
In the end, I was heartbroken. Danny and Caro are the kind of characters you can’t help growing attached to. It’s because they’re so REAL! They’re people you know! And when you turn that last page, you miss them.
My friend Rowan liked the way it ended. But I didn’t. We’re all different, I suppose. Some are okay with ambiguity. But, not me. I just didn’t want to see it end like that. I was hoping for more. But as Mick Jagger keeps reminding me, 🎵You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes… you get what you need.🎵
4.5 “Just–like–seasons–people–change–and–not–always–for–the–better” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
April 18, 2026
Oh my, this book. I will be shoving it into everyone’s hands. My body ached reading it. I felt it in my bones.
April 17, 2026
Caro and Danny grew up together in rural Tasmania. From best friends to lovers, planning their future together. But when Danny’s mother passes away, the first signs of fracture appear. Despite Danny pulling away, they move into a house, as they’d always dreamed of. But as Danny spirals deeper, Caro is paralysed between staying for glimpses of the old him, and leaving to save herself. As addiction does, it gets worse and better and worse.
Frogsong is succinct, lyrical, and devastating. Manning’s writing is very minimalist with no wasted words, while also so full of life and feeling. I fell into the rhythm of the prose easily, unable to put it down. The love of frogs that cocooned Caro and Danny’s childhood is woven throughout, mirroring the shape of their relationship with a quiet, aching precision.
I was sobbing towards the end as my heart broke for Caro. But I also deeply admired her strength as she must accept and let go — of him, of the life she’d imagined, and of who she was before.
Thanks UQP for the gifted copy 🤍
Frogsong is succinct, lyrical, and devastating. Manning’s writing is very minimalist with no wasted words, while also so full of life and feeling. I fell into the rhythm of the prose easily, unable to put it down. The love of frogs that cocooned Caro and Danny’s childhood is woven throughout, mirroring the shape of their relationship with a quiet, aching precision.
I was sobbing towards the end as my heart broke for Caro. But I also deeply admired her strength as she must accept and let go — of him, of the life she’d imagined, and of who she was before.
Thanks UQP for the gifted copy 🤍
May 10, 2026
I liked this book. I particularly liked the Tasmanian references. I was a little disappointed that it didn't really "go anywhere". The journey was pleasant but I sensed that there was a climax building that never really arrived.
April 8, 2026
I opened the first pages of FROGSONG (UQP 2026) with somewhat anxious trepidation, because how could author Melissa Manning have written a novel as wonderful as her first book SMOKEHOUSE (an impossibly good collection of interlocked short stories)?
But my worries were for naught. Manning has again delivered a beautiful, skilfully rendered, lyrical, elegiac and haunting story about grief, friendship, young love, lives not lived and the agony of letting go.
Manning’s style is spare, sparse, pared back prose, almost as if she has taken out every second word (or at least every unnecessary word), and gifted the reader the outline of narrative in a simple, clean, devastating and moving language. The narrator Caro is as authentic as if she is a real person, someone we know, telling us her life story. Her tale is full of longing and regret, anxiety and love, tough decisions and careless mistakes. It’s a story of endless hope, of terrible fear, of resentment and illness, of worry and joy. It is a marvel.
Caro and her friend Danny grow up together, spending their time catching tadpoles at the local waterhole, and discover the end of childhood, burgeoning adolescence, and the responsibilities of young adulthood. Caro imagines her future will always be with Danny, especially after the promise she made to his mother.
But their braided lives become unentwined when Danny’s demons beset him and he dabbles with danger and eventually struggles with addiction. A perfect childhood in the untouched beauty of the Tasmanian wilderness becomes less haven and more constricting isolation. Caro is afforded some measure of peace when she escapes to travel in Lisbon, but her lost dreams and the pull of her unrequited childhood force her to confront some difficult truths.
This is a literary romance in the absences as much as what is present, a heartbreaking story of childhood innocence, shattered dreams and questions which have no answers. The ending will leave you yearning for more, the subtle but never entirely settled ambiguity a sweet sting in the tale.
But my worries were for naught. Manning has again delivered a beautiful, skilfully rendered, lyrical, elegiac and haunting story about grief, friendship, young love, lives not lived and the agony of letting go.
Manning’s style is spare, sparse, pared back prose, almost as if she has taken out every second word (or at least every unnecessary word), and gifted the reader the outline of narrative in a simple, clean, devastating and moving language. The narrator Caro is as authentic as if she is a real person, someone we know, telling us her life story. Her tale is full of longing and regret, anxiety and love, tough decisions and careless mistakes. It’s a story of endless hope, of terrible fear, of resentment and illness, of worry and joy. It is a marvel.
Caro and her friend Danny grow up together, spending their time catching tadpoles at the local waterhole, and discover the end of childhood, burgeoning adolescence, and the responsibilities of young adulthood. Caro imagines her future will always be with Danny, especially after the promise she made to his mother.
But their braided lives become unentwined when Danny’s demons beset him and he dabbles with danger and eventually struggles with addiction. A perfect childhood in the untouched beauty of the Tasmanian wilderness becomes less haven and more constricting isolation. Caro is afforded some measure of peace when she escapes to travel in Lisbon, but her lost dreams and the pull of her unrequited childhood force her to confront some difficult truths.
This is a literary romance in the absences as much as what is present, a heartbreaking story of childhood innocence, shattered dreams and questions which have no answers. The ending will leave you yearning for more, the subtle but never entirely settled ambiguity a sweet sting in the tale.
April 20, 2026
Nice to read a Tasmanian story set in Hobart. Caro and Danny were in love sincechildhood until their late teens: life and love were wonderful. Dammy was a highly talented artist, especially using frog motifs, then he started drugs and drink, disappearing from time to time, then permanently. Caro is driven mad searching, wondering. She visits relatives in Portugal then returns home, reviits oldsites she’d loved with Danny, the accepts it. He has gone. There is a lot of emotion and feeling displayed but basically it’s a weak story, weakened by too much day to day trivia, drinking wine eating this and that, banal conversation. Almost egregious sexual references, not just with Danny and Caro. I hesitated between two stars and three but finally settled for three for some sensitive writing.
April 16, 2026
Beautifully crafted, but very bleak. An anti-romance novel? Two characters who have known each other since early childhood and go through typical romance (lust?) phases until devastating events cause Danny to spiral downwards. The characters are nicely drawn & developed. I guess it is hard to make light in a book about grief, addiction, love, mistakes.
May 12, 2026
3.5 Follows Caro, the main character from childhood through to her 20s - and is the story of her love for Danny, her best friend from childhood. Slow pace and lacking a strong sense of direction - but some nice descriptions of the heartbreak of a disintegrating relationship.
April 14, 2026
Read it, loved it.
April 30, 2026
3.5 stars
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I always love seeing an author's work grow in subsequent books. I adored Melissa Manning's 'Smokehouse', an interlinked short story collection that won the Victorian Premier's Literary Award in 2022. So, it was great to read this early copy of her new novel 'Frogsong'. 'Frogsong' is a tender and harrowing exploration of how the past and the people we love can anchor and haunt. Manning is a master of the kind of prose that asks the reader to feel and think.
The story centres on Caro and Danny, childhood friends whose lives are entwined. Caro carries a weighty promise made to Danny's mother as they enter adulthood. As Danny spirals into self-destruction and addiction, Caro is forced to navigate the agonising space between loyalty to a person she loves and the urgent need to save herself.
Like 'Smokehouse', 'Frogsong' shows Manning's taut and disciplined writing that avoids sentimentality while tapping into the heart of grief and loss. The vivid settings in Tasmania and Lisbon heighten the atmosphere further. This deep-hearted novel is a stunning depiction of letting go and how to thread ourselves back together after our lives come unwound.
Catch my interview with Melissa here
The story centres on Caro and Danny, childhood friends whose lives are entwined. Caro carries a weighty promise made to Danny's mother as they enter adulthood. As Danny spirals into self-destruction and addiction, Caro is forced to navigate the agonising space between loyalty to a person she loves and the urgent need to save herself.
Like 'Smokehouse', 'Frogsong' shows Manning's taut and disciplined writing that avoids sentimentality while tapping into the heart of grief and loss. The vivid settings in Tasmania and Lisbon heighten the atmosphere further. This deep-hearted novel is a stunning depiction of letting go and how to thread ourselves back together after our lives come unwound.
Catch my interview with Melissa here
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews