Shannon 's bookshelf: 2013 en-US Thu, 19 Dec 2024 21:11:16 -0800 60 Shannon 's bookshelf: 2013 144 41 /images/layout/goodreads_logo_144.jpg <![CDATA[Raising Boys in a New Kind of World]]> 13338078
Raising Boys in a New Kind of World is a passionate call for greater empathy. The more we know about boys, the more realistic our expectations of them will be. We need to stop seeing normal boy behaviour as a problem and learn to understand a boy's need for movement, his unique learning styles, and his personal methods of communicating.

Michael Reist writes from the front lines. As a classroom teacher for more than 30 years and the father of three boys, he has seen first-hand the effects that changes in modern culture are having on boys. Raising Boys in a New Kind of World is an inspiring and entertaining collection of positive, practical advice on many topics, including discipline, homework, video games, and bullying, and provides numerous tips on how to communicate with boys.]]> 312 Michael Reist 1459700430 Shannon 3
I'm from a bit of an in-between generation: we had computers as kids, but I still remember the old black-and-green screens and working with "dos". We had Game Boys and Nintendo, but there were no mobile phones (not until I was at university), and most people didn't have computers at home. I was the generation that had to learn all this technology, and learn it fast - which we did. Our parents could get away with taking their time and approaching it cautiously, but we were the guinea pig generation (a child in the 80s, a teenager in the 90s). I don't think there's a name for us - we're much younger than Generation X (now in their 40s), and we're definitely not . I like to think, though, that we're the more flexible generation, the one who understands change and how to take the bits we need from the new world without going overboard, or freaking, or feeling threatened. But that doesn't mean this isn't a "new kind of world", and that the changes - and how they affect our children - aren't of extreme importance. It doesn't mean that we feel any more confident about raising children in this world of our making - a world that often feels like it has a life of its own, beyond our control.

Parents feel the changes in the world; kids don't. Parents often react defensively, and children do not understand what all the fuss is about. Negative parental reactions often originate in hostility toward change. Most adults tend to see their own formative years as normal and what comes afterward as a decline. The only constant is change, and parents and their children experience this in fundamentally different ways.

In the parent-child dynamic, one question is often: Which of us is going to change? Another is: Are we going to move forward or backward? [...] Adults have a guiding role to play in managing the impact of social change as children negotiate their way through the world. The dragons that lurk in the periphery are real. One of the most powerful examples today is corporate capitalism, its marketing to children, and the creation of a shallow popular culture that stands ready to claim our children as unconscious full-time citizens.

This leaves parents facing their own worries, another constant in parental history. Will my child be happy? Will he be successful? Am I doing the right thing? Am I screwing my kid up? Am I being too lenient? Am I being too strict? What is normal? This book attempts to help parents answer those questions, as well as others, such as: What should we hold on to and what should we let go of? What are the new rules? Do any of the old ones still apply? In a world of moral relativism, these questions are more important than ever before. [pp.13-14]


Reist is a Baby Boomer, but he's not a man clinging to the "good old days". Neither is he indiscriminately against "new" things, the things that kids and teenagers today seem most interested in. In fact, by exploring not just gender differences but the way boys' brains work, he provides enlightenment as to why so many boys prefer to spend hours locked away in the bowels of a video game rather than talking about their day. And he does an excellent job of alleviating worries (worries that I haven't experienced yet, since my son is so young, but I'm sure they'll come) about the behaviour of boys, and warns against reading things into it which only make things worse and even, potentially, create a divide between you and your children.

This isn't a book focused on the neurological aspects of boys, on gender difference, but Reist has done his research and gender differences are undeniable - not the socially constructed ones (girls like pink and dolls, boys like mud and trucks), but the ones in our brains, that we're born with, that are tied up with hormones. This is a good "starter" book, in that regard, an introduction for people who haven't read anything much on the topic before. He never over-simplifies or exaggerates these differences, but out of necessity he generalises. Of course there are exceptions, you have to bring that understanding with you when reading this book. When he described boys - many different kinds of boys - I pictured in my head some of my high school and primary school classrooms, and I could remember that boy, and that one. They covered a broad spectrum of what it means to be a boy, as did the girls, but yes, there were the "bodily-kinesthetic" boys, the ones who can't sit still. There were the ones struggling to read even in high school. The ones who couldn't look the teacher in the eye. The bored ones. The ones so much happier when they were working in the school garden. The ones who were better at maths than almost all the girls. The ones who were always reading. The quiet ones, the loud ones, the bullies, the victims. They're all there in this book, too, as well as their parents.

Reist covers a broad range of topics and issues, all related to the home and school. He talks about "ADD or normal boy behaviour?" and the "unique nature of boys." He talks about bullying, sports, reading and writing, talking, "how to deal with the electronic world" and social networking, as well as the role of schools and parents. And he spends an entire chapter on discussing what it means to raise a boy "with character", someone who "knows who he is and accepts it, but is also in the continual process of revising these perceptions." [p.270] His sections on the education system and schools is particularly hard-hitting: Reist is very firm in his belief that our current school system is detrimental to the healthy growth and success of children, boys in particular. Schools are a kind of factory, he explains, where being quiet and doing what you're told is rewarded, a state of being very few of us are realistically capable of. Funnily enough, he points out that those kids who were like that often end up as teachers themselves, who in turn have the same expectations - what's funny is that I was one of those kids (mostly because I was too easily intimidated and embarrassed and didn't want to draw attention to myself), and I have become a teacher. But I don't want to fall into that trap. After reading Raising Boys, I have a better idea of what kind of teacher (and parent) I want to be, and how to go about it.

At all times, Reist firmly grounds his discussion (it often feels like one, which isn't surprising considering all the talks he gives on the subjects of bullying etc.) in the here-and-now, and doesn't pull any punches. You cannot separate parenting from consumerism, or teaching from popular culture. Everything is connected. He provides a balanced perspective, discussing the positive and the negative aspects of, for example, sport and video games. But he warns against certain aspects of our societies, in a "be aware, be critical thinkers, and teach your kid the same" way:

In the end, it all comes down to awareness, moderation, and balance. Parents have to be role models, mediators, and sometimes police officers. What is our relationship with media? Are we heavy or uncritical users? How can we be responsible gatekeepers, mediating between children and the "outside world"? Do we have the fortitude to simply say "no" when all the forces of peer pressure are brought to bear against us? We don't want our kids to grow up in a bubble, unprepared to make the kind of judgements that will be required of them when we are not around. Nor do we want them to lose their souls to a corporate machine bigger and better funded than any institution in history. People question intrusive government and authoritarian institutional religions, but all too often, we not only accept but even seek out and welcome corporate influence. Corporate capitalist consumerism is a "Big Brother" many have learned to love. [pp.207-8]


Much of the advice in this book is not specific to boys, such as the need for parents to teach kids how to think, not what to think [p.205], which is true for teachers too but something I think that adults, in general, struggle to do, especially when faced with young beings thirsty to understand and interact with their world. The easiest thing is to tell them what to think and do, but in doing so we don't prepare them for being the kind of self-regulating, independent adults with open minds that we'd like them to be.

Raising Boys is very readable, since its target audience are regular adults, not academics. It is full of anecdotes, which I always love reading, and Reist does an excellent job at connecting things and helping you understand what's really going on with your boy/s, especially during the teenage years. What's funny is that several times I related with the boy, rather than the woman - I'm no talker, though like any adult there is the danger of falling into a lecturing pattern when telling a kid off; instead, it's my husband who likes to talk things through. He's so quiet with everyone else, but with me, he talks and talks! I like to think things over, privately, and feel no urge to talk them over too. In fact, I often find it makes things worse, for me. So I guess I can identify with your typical teenaged boy more than I expected!

This was a fantastic book to read, as a parent and an educator, and I highly recommend it to other parents and teachers. While it does have a slight Canadian or Ontario focus when discussing education (in talking about school boards or the EQAO), it's still pretty common to a westernised, post-colonial education system, in general, and these aren't things that will hold you back from learning a great deal about how to raise boys in a new kind of world. Now I have to get my husband to read this!
]]> 4.19 2011 Raising Boys in a New Kind of World
author: Michael Reist
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.19
book published: 2011
rating: 3
read at: 2013/01/26
date added: 2024/12/19
shelves: non-fiction, parenting, culture-and-society, 2013, removed
review:
As a teacher for over thirty years (and department head for twenty) as well as an educational consultant, brings his years of experience and insight from working with children of all ages to his book on raising boys in a new kind of world. As a mother of an eighteen-month-old boy as well as a high school teacher, I knew this was a book I had to read, after hearing Reist interviewed on CBC Radio. And I'm very glad I did.

I'm from a bit of an in-between generation: we had computers as kids, but I still remember the old black-and-green screens and working with "dos". We had Game Boys and Nintendo, but there were no mobile phones (not until I was at university), and most people didn't have computers at home. I was the generation that had to learn all this technology, and learn it fast - which we did. Our parents could get away with taking their time and approaching it cautiously, but we were the guinea pig generation (a child in the 80s, a teenager in the 90s). I don't think there's a name for us - we're much younger than Generation X (now in their 40s), and we're definitely not . I like to think, though, that we're the more flexible generation, the one who understands change and how to take the bits we need from the new world without going overboard, or freaking, or feeling threatened. But that doesn't mean this isn't a "new kind of world", and that the changes - and how they affect our children - aren't of extreme importance. It doesn't mean that we feel any more confident about raising children in this world of our making - a world that often feels like it has a life of its own, beyond our control.

Parents feel the changes in the world; kids don't. Parents often react defensively, and children do not understand what all the fuss is about. Negative parental reactions often originate in hostility toward change. Most adults tend to see their own formative years as normal and what comes afterward as a decline. The only constant is change, and parents and their children experience this in fundamentally different ways.

In the parent-child dynamic, one question is often: Which of us is going to change? Another is: Are we going to move forward or backward? [...] Adults have a guiding role to play in managing the impact of social change as children negotiate their way through the world. The dragons that lurk in the periphery are real. One of the most powerful examples today is corporate capitalism, its marketing to children, and the creation of a shallow popular culture that stands ready to claim our children as unconscious full-time citizens.

This leaves parents facing their own worries, another constant in parental history. Will my child be happy? Will he be successful? Am I doing the right thing? Am I screwing my kid up? Am I being too lenient? Am I being too strict? What is normal? This book attempts to help parents answer those questions, as well as others, such as: What should we hold on to and what should we let go of? What are the new rules? Do any of the old ones still apply? In a world of moral relativism, these questions are more important than ever before. [pp.13-14]


Reist is a Baby Boomer, but he's not a man clinging to the "good old days". Neither is he indiscriminately against "new" things, the things that kids and teenagers today seem most interested in. In fact, by exploring not just gender differences but the way boys' brains work, he provides enlightenment as to why so many boys prefer to spend hours locked away in the bowels of a video game rather than talking about their day. And he does an excellent job of alleviating worries (worries that I haven't experienced yet, since my son is so young, but I'm sure they'll come) about the behaviour of boys, and warns against reading things into it which only make things worse and even, potentially, create a divide between you and your children.

This isn't a book focused on the neurological aspects of boys, on gender difference, but Reist has done his research and gender differences are undeniable - not the socially constructed ones (girls like pink and dolls, boys like mud and trucks), but the ones in our brains, that we're born with, that are tied up with hormones. This is a good "starter" book, in that regard, an introduction for people who haven't read anything much on the topic before. He never over-simplifies or exaggerates these differences, but out of necessity he generalises. Of course there are exceptions, you have to bring that understanding with you when reading this book. When he described boys - many different kinds of boys - I pictured in my head some of my high school and primary school classrooms, and I could remember that boy, and that one. They covered a broad spectrum of what it means to be a boy, as did the girls, but yes, there were the "bodily-kinesthetic" boys, the ones who can't sit still. There were the ones struggling to read even in high school. The ones who couldn't look the teacher in the eye. The bored ones. The ones so much happier when they were working in the school garden. The ones who were better at maths than almost all the girls. The ones who were always reading. The quiet ones, the loud ones, the bullies, the victims. They're all there in this book, too, as well as their parents.

Reist covers a broad range of topics and issues, all related to the home and school. He talks about "ADD or normal boy behaviour?" and the "unique nature of boys." He talks about bullying, sports, reading and writing, talking, "how to deal with the electronic world" and social networking, as well as the role of schools and parents. And he spends an entire chapter on discussing what it means to raise a boy "with character", someone who "knows who he is and accepts it, but is also in the continual process of revising these perceptions." [p.270] His sections on the education system and schools is particularly hard-hitting: Reist is very firm in his belief that our current school system is detrimental to the healthy growth and success of children, boys in particular. Schools are a kind of factory, he explains, where being quiet and doing what you're told is rewarded, a state of being very few of us are realistically capable of. Funnily enough, he points out that those kids who were like that often end up as teachers themselves, who in turn have the same expectations - what's funny is that I was one of those kids (mostly because I was too easily intimidated and embarrassed and didn't want to draw attention to myself), and I have become a teacher. But I don't want to fall into that trap. After reading Raising Boys, I have a better idea of what kind of teacher (and parent) I want to be, and how to go about it.

At all times, Reist firmly grounds his discussion (it often feels like one, which isn't surprising considering all the talks he gives on the subjects of bullying etc.) in the here-and-now, and doesn't pull any punches. You cannot separate parenting from consumerism, or teaching from popular culture. Everything is connected. He provides a balanced perspective, discussing the positive and the negative aspects of, for example, sport and video games. But he warns against certain aspects of our societies, in a "be aware, be critical thinkers, and teach your kid the same" way:

In the end, it all comes down to awareness, moderation, and balance. Parents have to be role models, mediators, and sometimes police officers. What is our relationship with media? Are we heavy or uncritical users? How can we be responsible gatekeepers, mediating between children and the "outside world"? Do we have the fortitude to simply say "no" when all the forces of peer pressure are brought to bear against us? We don't want our kids to grow up in a bubble, unprepared to make the kind of judgements that will be required of them when we are not around. Nor do we want them to lose their souls to a corporate machine bigger and better funded than any institution in history. People question intrusive government and authoritarian institutional religions, but all too often, we not only accept but even seek out and welcome corporate influence. Corporate capitalist consumerism is a "Big Brother" many have learned to love. [pp.207-8]


Much of the advice in this book is not specific to boys, such as the need for parents to teach kids how to think, not what to think [p.205], which is true for teachers too but something I think that adults, in general, struggle to do, especially when faced with young beings thirsty to understand and interact with their world. The easiest thing is to tell them what to think and do, but in doing so we don't prepare them for being the kind of self-regulating, independent adults with open minds that we'd like them to be.

Raising Boys is very readable, since its target audience are regular adults, not academics. It is full of anecdotes, which I always love reading, and Reist does an excellent job at connecting things and helping you understand what's really going on with your boy/s, especially during the teenage years. What's funny is that several times I related with the boy, rather than the woman - I'm no talker, though like any adult there is the danger of falling into a lecturing pattern when telling a kid off; instead, it's my husband who likes to talk things through. He's so quiet with everyone else, but with me, he talks and talks! I like to think things over, privately, and feel no urge to talk them over too. In fact, I often find it makes things worse, for me. So I guess I can identify with your typical teenaged boy more than I expected!

This was a fantastic book to read, as a parent and an educator, and I highly recommend it to other parents and teachers. While it does have a slight Canadian or Ontario focus when discussing education (in talking about school boards or the EQAO), it's still pretty common to a westernised, post-colonial education system, in general, and these aren't things that will hold you back from learning a great deal about how to raise boys in a new kind of world. Now I have to get my husband to read this!

]]> <![CDATA[The Serpent and the Pearl (The Borgias, #1)]]> 15808321 Rome, 1492. The Holy City is drenched with blood and teeming with secrets. A pope lies dying and the throne of God is left vacant, a prize awarded only to the most virtuous--or the most ruthless. The Borgia family begins its legendary rise, chronicled by an innocent girl who finds herself drawn into their dangerous web...
Vivacious Giulia Farnese has floor-length golden hair and the world at her feet: beauty, wealth, and a handsome young husband. But she is stunned to discover that her glittering marriage is a sham, and she is to be given as a concubine to the ruthless, charismatic Cardinal Borgia: Spaniard, sensualist, candidate for Pope--and passionately in love with her.
Two trusted companions will follow her into the Pope's shadowy harem: Leonello, a cynical bodyguard bent on bloody revenge against a mysterious killer, and Carmelina, a fiery cook with a past full of secrets. But as corruption thickens in the Vatican and the enemies begin to circle, Giulia and her friends will need all their wits to survive in the world of the Borgias.]]> 393 Kate Quinn 0425259463 Shannon 5
The wedding is being held at the opulent home of Cardinal Borgia, Madonna Adriana's cousin, and Maestro Santini and his cooks have taken over the large kitchens to prepare an amazing feast. Only, when Carmelina arrives, her cousin is nowhere to be found and the kitchen is in chaos. Knowing Marco's addiction to gambling and that he probably won't be back in time to do his job, and knowing that if she can step in and save the day it will increase her chances of getting him to take her in, out of gratitude for saving his job if nothing else, Carmelina takes over and puts together an impressive feast, aided by the recipes she stole from her father before she left Venice.

Upstairs, sweet but slightly vain Giulia is delighted to see that her new husband isn't old and fat like the men so many of her friends and even her sister were married off to, but young and handsome. Unfortunately, she soon learns that the marriage is a sham. It's soul purpose is to put Giulia in the position of accepting Cardinal Borgia's overtures, he who saw her in church and has wanted her ever since.

With the current Pope on his deathbed and the ruthless political manoeuvring amongst the upper clergy in full swing, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, one of the most powerful men and certainly one of the wealthiest, is tipped to be the successor. And because he's a Borgia, he doesn't care about hiding his mistress or using his position to elevate his young sons, cold, calculating eighteen-year-old Cesare and lecherous sixteen-year-old Juan, his father's favourite. But because he's a Borgia, he gives Cesare the task of finding a man to protect his mistress and his young daughter, twelve-year-old Lucrezia. Cesare finds just the right bodyguard in the most unlikeliest of places: a dwarf called Leonello who tracked the killers of a friend of his to the Borgia residence and is about to kill a man when Cesare captures him and offers him a deal that he can hardly refuse. After all, everyone overlooks a dwarf, and with his knife skills he's perfectly placed to ensure Giulia and Lucrezia's safety.

Carmelina, Giulia and Leonello find that to survive in the world of power-hungry, corrupt Rome they will need each other, and every trick they know.

This is my first time reading a Kate Quinn novel, and I must say I'm very impressed. Even though I studied (and have a degree in) European history (from the 1100s to the start of WWI), I really can't remember much about this period of history, the Renaissance, or the Borgias, as famous a family as it is, so it was a delight to delve into their world in such depth and detail and with such a fine balance between entertainment, historical accuracy and sheer excitement.

The story is told from the alternating first-person perspectives of Carmelina, Leonello and Giulia, three very different people from very different backgrounds. I grew fond of each of them and found that, flaws and all, I came to really like them and sympathise with them. Carmelina is described as tall, thin and plain, and her temperament is prickly at best. She takes an instant dislike to Leonello, mostly because he is skilled at sniffing out lies and secrets and sees straight away that she's hiding some biggies - and likes to tease and provoke her with his guesses and innuendoes.

Giulia is, initially, a bit spoiled and naïve and silly, but once she become Rodrigo Borgio's mistress - and she doesn't really have much choice, though she does go to him willingly and enjoys it - she puts her training as a noblewoman to good use and learns how to embrace her title of Giulia le Belle or The Bride of Christ, just two of her nicknames. She is derided by her own family who then turn to her for favours, and the women of Rome scorn her even as they ape her fashions. She has power and the ear - and more - of the Pope, but no real friends, except perhaps Carmelina and Leonello. An unpaid servant and a bodyguard with a sharp-witted tongue? But in a place where no one can be trusted, Giulia takes loyalty and honest opinion where she can find it, and matures into a strong-willed, brave woman who juggles her current position with her more humble dreams for an honest life with her real husband.

Leonello is a direct contrast - indeed, all three lead characters are vastly different and present their own unique, specific perspectives to the story - and a character you will most definitely enjoy reading. He's a very interesting character, just as flawed as the two women and with his own agenda. He puts his search for his friend Anna's brutal murder to the side and takes his job of protecting Giulia seriously - he would never admit it but you can tell he genuinely likes her.

Perhaps it was being introduced to a dwarf, and perhaps it's the style of writing and the story itself, but The Serpent and the Pearl put me in mind of certain Fantasy stories, or a style of Fantasy writing, except that this one isn't fantasy and is based on our own historical records. But it reads like a fantasy novel, in the vein of Jennifer Fallon for example - she came to mind first and foremost because of her Hythrun trilogy (Wolfblade etc.), which also featured a wily, clever dwarf with a smart mouth. Quinn writes Leonello with great understanding and compassion and more than a little pride, and he was one of my favourite characters.

With Carmelina's nose for the scents of Rome and good food and her inventive dishes, and her perspective from the servant's areas, the underbelly of what makes a great city tick is revealed in rich detail. Leonello too provides insight into the seedier, more criminal side of living in Rome, while Giulia necessarily adds the pomp and shine to the façade. Between them, life in Rome and beyond from 1492 to 1494 comes vividly, realistically to life. There's an atmosphere of tension and danger, a hint of unpredictability that raises the stakes, and the kind of fear that goes with secrets and corruption. Yet the story isn't all gloomy or dark. There's beauty too, and the kind of gorgeousness great wealth can provide. With Giulia's silver tongue and Leonello's sharp-witted banter, Quinn provides intelligent conversation and exciting dialogue. Politics and political machinations are woven in, as is the threat of war from France over the territory of Naples, and always at the helm, like a big power-hungry spider holding multiple threads, rests the Pope, controlling it all, granting favours and benedictions or removing titles and wealth. Giulia's troubled yearnings for the life she had dreamed of - to be an honest wife, a loving mother, and all that that entails - finally clash with the Pope's furious will, and something will have to give.

The ending took me somewhat by surprise, mostly because it is a cliffhanger ending and I was so caught up in what was happening that when it suddenly ended, it was like having the chair yanked out from under you. Really, The Serpent and the Pearl mostly introduces us to the key characters, puts the pieces into motion and provides the context and background. The story continues in The Lion and the Rose, which I can imagine is when the story really gets going! Even so, The Serpent and the Pearl is an exciting read, successfully combining historical authenticity and realism with interesting, flawed and sympathetic characters and a gripping story that doesn't sacrifice character development to plot. A fine achievement!

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 3.93 2013 The Serpent and the Pearl (The Borgias, #1)
author: Kate Quinn
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.93
book published: 2013
rating: 5
read at: 2013/08/11
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: historical-fiction, 2013, removed
review:
Rome, 1492. Young Carmelina Mangano has fled Venice for the Holy City with nothing but her clothes and a sacred relic in her possession, hoping to be taken in by her cousin, Marco Santini, who was once her father's apprentice. Carmelina, too, learnt the skill and craft of fine cooking in her father's kitchen, though as a woman she could never have hoped to make a living from it, only a reasonable marriage. Her cousin is the head chef for a grand lady, Madonna Adriana, who has organised a wedding between her young son, Orsino Orsini, and eighteen-year-old Giulia Farnese, one of the most beautiful girls anyone has ever seen, with golden hair almost down to her toes.

The wedding is being held at the opulent home of Cardinal Borgia, Madonna Adriana's cousin, and Maestro Santini and his cooks have taken over the large kitchens to prepare an amazing feast. Only, when Carmelina arrives, her cousin is nowhere to be found and the kitchen is in chaos. Knowing Marco's addiction to gambling and that he probably won't be back in time to do his job, and knowing that if she can step in and save the day it will increase her chances of getting him to take her in, out of gratitude for saving his job if nothing else, Carmelina takes over and puts together an impressive feast, aided by the recipes she stole from her father before she left Venice.

Upstairs, sweet but slightly vain Giulia is delighted to see that her new husband isn't old and fat like the men so many of her friends and even her sister were married off to, but young and handsome. Unfortunately, she soon learns that the marriage is a sham. It's soul purpose is to put Giulia in the position of accepting Cardinal Borgia's overtures, he who saw her in church and has wanted her ever since.

With the current Pope on his deathbed and the ruthless political manoeuvring amongst the upper clergy in full swing, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, one of the most powerful men and certainly one of the wealthiest, is tipped to be the successor. And because he's a Borgia, he doesn't care about hiding his mistress or using his position to elevate his young sons, cold, calculating eighteen-year-old Cesare and lecherous sixteen-year-old Juan, his father's favourite. But because he's a Borgia, he gives Cesare the task of finding a man to protect his mistress and his young daughter, twelve-year-old Lucrezia. Cesare finds just the right bodyguard in the most unlikeliest of places: a dwarf called Leonello who tracked the killers of a friend of his to the Borgia residence and is about to kill a man when Cesare captures him and offers him a deal that he can hardly refuse. After all, everyone overlooks a dwarf, and with his knife skills he's perfectly placed to ensure Giulia and Lucrezia's safety.

Carmelina, Giulia and Leonello find that to survive in the world of power-hungry, corrupt Rome they will need each other, and every trick they know.

This is my first time reading a Kate Quinn novel, and I must say I'm very impressed. Even though I studied (and have a degree in) European history (from the 1100s to the start of WWI), I really can't remember much about this period of history, the Renaissance, or the Borgias, as famous a family as it is, so it was a delight to delve into their world in such depth and detail and with such a fine balance between entertainment, historical accuracy and sheer excitement.

The story is told from the alternating first-person perspectives of Carmelina, Leonello and Giulia, three very different people from very different backgrounds. I grew fond of each of them and found that, flaws and all, I came to really like them and sympathise with them. Carmelina is described as tall, thin and plain, and her temperament is prickly at best. She takes an instant dislike to Leonello, mostly because he is skilled at sniffing out lies and secrets and sees straight away that she's hiding some biggies - and likes to tease and provoke her with his guesses and innuendoes.

Giulia is, initially, a bit spoiled and naïve and silly, but once she become Rodrigo Borgio's mistress - and she doesn't really have much choice, though she does go to him willingly and enjoys it - she puts her training as a noblewoman to good use and learns how to embrace her title of Giulia le Belle or The Bride of Christ, just two of her nicknames. She is derided by her own family who then turn to her for favours, and the women of Rome scorn her even as they ape her fashions. She has power and the ear - and more - of the Pope, but no real friends, except perhaps Carmelina and Leonello. An unpaid servant and a bodyguard with a sharp-witted tongue? But in a place where no one can be trusted, Giulia takes loyalty and honest opinion where she can find it, and matures into a strong-willed, brave woman who juggles her current position with her more humble dreams for an honest life with her real husband.

Leonello is a direct contrast - indeed, all three lead characters are vastly different and present their own unique, specific perspectives to the story - and a character you will most definitely enjoy reading. He's a very interesting character, just as flawed as the two women and with his own agenda. He puts his search for his friend Anna's brutal murder to the side and takes his job of protecting Giulia seriously - he would never admit it but you can tell he genuinely likes her.

Perhaps it was being introduced to a dwarf, and perhaps it's the style of writing and the story itself, but The Serpent and the Pearl put me in mind of certain Fantasy stories, or a style of Fantasy writing, except that this one isn't fantasy and is based on our own historical records. But it reads like a fantasy novel, in the vein of Jennifer Fallon for example - she came to mind first and foremost because of her Hythrun trilogy (Wolfblade etc.), which also featured a wily, clever dwarf with a smart mouth. Quinn writes Leonello with great understanding and compassion and more than a little pride, and he was one of my favourite characters.

With Carmelina's nose for the scents of Rome and good food and her inventive dishes, and her perspective from the servant's areas, the underbelly of what makes a great city tick is revealed in rich detail. Leonello too provides insight into the seedier, more criminal side of living in Rome, while Giulia necessarily adds the pomp and shine to the façade. Between them, life in Rome and beyond from 1492 to 1494 comes vividly, realistically to life. There's an atmosphere of tension and danger, a hint of unpredictability that raises the stakes, and the kind of fear that goes with secrets and corruption. Yet the story isn't all gloomy or dark. There's beauty too, and the kind of gorgeousness great wealth can provide. With Giulia's silver tongue and Leonello's sharp-witted banter, Quinn provides intelligent conversation and exciting dialogue. Politics and political machinations are woven in, as is the threat of war from France over the territory of Naples, and always at the helm, like a big power-hungry spider holding multiple threads, rests the Pope, controlling it all, granting favours and benedictions or removing titles and wealth. Giulia's troubled yearnings for the life she had dreamed of - to be an honest wife, a loving mother, and all that that entails - finally clash with the Pope's furious will, and something will have to give.

The ending took me somewhat by surprise, mostly because it is a cliffhanger ending and I was so caught up in what was happening that when it suddenly ended, it was like having the chair yanked out from under you. Really, The Serpent and the Pearl mostly introduces us to the key characters, puts the pieces into motion and provides the context and background. The story continues in The Lion and the Rose, which I can imagine is when the story really gets going! Even so, The Serpent and the Pearl is an exciting read, successfully combining historical authenticity and realism with interesting, flawed and sympathetic characters and a gripping story that doesn't sacrifice character development to plot. A fine achievement!

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> Cinnamon Gardens 1637990 389 Shyam Selvadurai 0771079567 Shannon 3
This caused quite the stir, if not an outright scandal, among their circle. Only girls too poor or too ugly to "catch" a husband need stoop to working as a teacher. "They saw it as a deliberate thumbing of her nose at the prospect of marriage. She might as well have joined a convent. They blamed her wilful, careless nature on both parents." [p.4] Not only does Annalukshmi's pursuit of higher education and work cast a negative light on her parents - though no one has a high opinion of her father, anyway - but her actions, her desire to ride a bicycle and her disinterest in marriage will make it harder for her younger sisters, Kumudini and Manohari, to marry. Annalukshmi has the kind of ambition none of them can understand.

Their neighbour is the Mudaliyar Navaratnam, now seventy, who lives in one of the grandest houses in Cinnamon Gardens. A relative on their paternal grandfather's side, he is an honorary uncle to the Kandiah girls as well as being one of the mudaliyars appointed by the British governor of Ceylon - an appointment based on loyalty to the British Empire. An official who listens to petitioners and has a seat of some kind in parliament, the Mudaliyar was raised as a very spoilt boy who never learnt how to deal with conflict or the needs of others. Years ago he exiled his eldest son for getting a servant girl pregnant - not for having sex with her or the child, but for falling in love with her and marrying her in secret. His own will thwarted, he banished Arul, and the girl Pakkiam, to India, granting him a small allowance but making his entire household, from his wife and younger son to all the servants, to never have any contact with him or speak of him again.

Balendran, the Mudaliyar's youngest son, was raised up in Arul's place. The boys had never been very close so Balendran had no problem putting aside thoughts of Arul - not so his mother, Nalamma. Now forty years old, Balendran has been successful in managing the family estate and temple - in fact the family's wealth and position has never been better because of the changes he made - and he long ago married his cousin Sonia, who is half-English, and had a son of his own, Lukshman, now at university in England. But Balendran has never forgotten - or overcome - his first love, Richard Howland, whom he lived with when he himself was a student in Britain. Twenty years have gone by, and suddenly Balendran is faced with the prospect of seeing Richard again, here, in Colombo.

Richard Howland is accompanying the Donoughmore Constitutional Commission to write a research paper on it, but Balendran's father thinks Richard is part of the commission itself, as an advisor to Dr Drummond Shiels, and wants Balendran to use his past connection and influence to get Richard on the Mudaliyar's side, and thus Dr Shiels. Balendran is deeply torn. He longs to see Richard again, yet is afraid to. Homosexuality is of course forbidden in Ceylonese society, and the Mudaliyar - who came to their home in England and knows exactly what they were doing - has Balendran under his thumb not just with the familial obligations that tie son to father, but with the power of his knowledge as well. His wife Sonia is furious because the Mudaliyar is against self-governemnt and universal franchise (giving the vote to the entire population, regardless of gender or caste), and Balendran would be a hypocrite to promote something he doesn't believe in, on his father's behalf.

But Richard isn't an advisor, he has no influence, and without that manipulation hanging over Balendran he is free to focus on rebuilding his own relationship with Richard. It means opening himself up to his own needs and desires once again, being vulnerable and more aware of the lies he lives.

Both Annalukshmi and Balendran are faced with strong opposition to the lifestyle and freedoms they want, and handle it in slightly different ways. For Annalukshmi, it is a time of shedding her youthful naiveté and seeing more clearly her position in Ceylonese society - not just among her own people and class, but in the eyes of her mentor Miss Lawton as well. She must decide what path she will take, for she cannot have marriage and a career. Balendran must face the family's secrets, their locked-away past, and learn for himself just where his loyalties should lie: with his dictatorial father and his dictates born of fear, or with his own heart, his own conscience. As change bears down on the entire colony, and a new era is on the cusp of being born, these two cousins also go through change and growth, and must decide who they will be on the other side.

I read this for a recent book club meeting; it wasn't a novel I'd heard of before and I don't know that it's readily available outside of Canada. The author, Shyam Selvadurai, came to Canada from Sri Lanka when he was nineteen, lives in Toronto, and is himself gay. I found that the character of Balendran, the troubled, gay son of a small-minded, influential man and caught up in the laws of traditional Tamil society which makes honouring the father more important that almost anything else, both refreshing and illuminating. This sounds weird maybe, but I really enjoy reading about homosexual characters, and you just don't get many books that aren't labelled as LGBT fiction, that delve into the lives of LGBT people in such a way (especially historical fiction). It's not like being gay is a new thing - quite the contrary, it's as old as humanity itself - but as a group they're sorely missing from literature. Living in hiding, in fear, in persecution, surely would make not just interesting, intriguing and possibly eye-opening fiction; it would acknowledge the kind of pain Balendran experienced, having to deny a major part of who he is and pretend, fake it, create an illusion at the expense of his own nature. It's not fair to him, it's not fair to Sonia who does actually love her husband, and it's just so sad.

Annalukshmi provided a nice contrast to Balendran, and supplied a glimpse into another oppressive aspect of Ceylonese culture and tradition and laws: the uneasy introduction of feminism and women's rights (or lack thereof). What was especially interesting was how Annalukshmi, who had gained an English education and had, in her way of thinking, moved away from a more traditional Tamil mentality, was not only thwarted in her ambitions by her own society, family, culture and traditions, but by the English themselves. As she learns from her friend Nancy, a low-caste Ceylonese girl who had been orphaned and adopted by Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton herself doesn't think Ceylonese women have the ability or capacity to learn the skills required to be a headmistress - which is Annalukshmi's ambition. While within Ceylon there were so many rules and strictures and laws of tradition that proscribed female behaviour (and everyone's behaviour), the English brought another layer to the picture: that of civilised coloniser who, through a simple education and conversion to Christianity, seeks to "save" the natives and give them a humanity as defined by the British (who wouldn't have acknowledged the Ceylonese any other way) - but never to see them as anything more than the Exotic Other, the civilised savage, a people no more able to rule themselves than they are to handle more complex mental tasks, like running a school.

Annalukshmi goes through quite a process of figuring herself out and deciding what she'll fight for - much as Balendran was, but also different. She's a very relatable character, and it's easy to think of her as a kind of Anne of Green Gables, with her penchant for mischief and disobeying the rules, for striving to be better, for her zest for life. Unwilling to settle, knowing she could never live the life of a sequestered Hindu wife and not interested in being a Christian one either, Annalukshmi does not take the easy road. I can only imagine that her life beyond the book would be a tough one, and it's so tragic to think of what women had to sacrifice - it's always one or the other: family or career, you couldn't have both. It's still like that in so many places, and even in our developed nations, women often end up having to sacrifice their career in order to have a family, especially if they can't afford daycare or a nanny. As someone who greatly values and appreciates the freedoms that I have as a woman today, I love reading about the pioneer women, the women who led the way and fought hard to acquire the vote and other rights: the idea of losing these rights chills me to the bone. So I felt for Annalukshmi, yes I really did.

Many supporting characters have the chance to show their perspectives as well, and shed further light on this society. Take Sonia for example, who was raised English - mostly by her aunt - but still confined by Tamil traditions and laws. In this way she reflects on her marriage to Balendran:

What a difference there was between her expectations and what her marriage had really turned out to be. She belonged, she knew, to that group of women from Europe who had married non-European men as an escape from the strictures of their world, a refusal to conform. What they did not know, could not have known, was that these men, so outcast in Europe and America, were, in their own land, the very thing women like her were trying to escape. This was what she had not been prepared for. Balendran's unquestioning obedience to familial and social dictates, his formality even in their lovemaking, his insistence that they maintain separate bedrooms. [pp.79-80]


Poor Sonia - I wonder whether her marriage would have been a more positive experience had Balendran not been gay, and not had the father that he did.

In the guise of a simple, very human story I came to learn a lot about the British colony of Ceylon during the 1920s - a pivotal time for the island. I can't say I understand everything, and this is just one slice of the island's history, but Selvadurai does a great job of incorporating the historical context and exposition into the story, making it relevant and comprehensible. It is quite complicated, but it was a good beginner's lesson for me and stirred my interest in the topic. Selvadurai manages to show both the negative - or confused - effects of British colonisation on this old, traditional society, as well as the great strides the people had made in adapting to this new world and making the best of it. Some more than others, of course: if you benefit from a new ruler, you're of course most likely to support them.

Cinnamon Gardens begins slowly, but alternating between Annalukshmi and Balendran it soon picks up and as you get your bearings more and understand the place and the era and the mixed-up culture better, it becomes more interesting. I wasn't as impressed with the writing as I was with the story itself. The storytelling was good, but the flow and pacing was a bit awkward, the prose a bit clunky at times. For a second novel it's a solid work and definitely worth reading, but it's not as polished as it could have been. There are clear signs of skill and talent, and Selvadurai created a colonial, faux-British historical setting that felt very authentic and real. There is a lot going on here about being blinded or repressed by tradition, of being true to yourself despite what society thinks, and standing up for yourself. It's a story about the illusions of civilisation, the things we emphasise as being markers of true nobility and civilisation that are, like everything else, constructs and changeable. And it's a story about love: within the family and without, of sacrifice and obligation, and of treading the fine line between tradition, culture, religion and modernism. A fine achievement in historical fiction.]]> 3.96 1998 Cinnamon Gardens
author: Shyam Selvadurai
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.96
book published: 1998
rating: 3
read at: 2013/07/11
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: historical-fiction, book-club, 2013, removed
review:
Sri Lanka in the 1920s was a British colony called Ceylon. Already divided along caste and ethnic lines, the British encouraged the divide, raising up some natives to rule, in small ways, over others. Annalukshmi Kandiah is the eldest daughter of Louisa, who came from one of the oldest Christian Tamil families but who eloped with Murugasu, a man who "had gained notoriety in his village of Jaffna for beheading the Gods in the household shrine during a quarrel with his father, running away to Malaya, and converting to Christianity." [p.4] Louisa, with three daughters in tow, left him and moved back to Colombo where they now live in a small cottage in the wealthy neighbourhood of Cinnamon Gardens. In 1927, at the age of twenty-two, Annalukshmi has acquired a teaching qualification and returned to the girls' Colpetty Mission School, run by her idol and mentor, Miss Amelia Lawton, to teach.

This caused quite the stir, if not an outright scandal, among their circle. Only girls too poor or too ugly to "catch" a husband need stoop to working as a teacher. "They saw it as a deliberate thumbing of her nose at the prospect of marriage. She might as well have joined a convent. They blamed her wilful, careless nature on both parents." [p.4] Not only does Annalukshmi's pursuit of higher education and work cast a negative light on her parents - though no one has a high opinion of her father, anyway - but her actions, her desire to ride a bicycle and her disinterest in marriage will make it harder for her younger sisters, Kumudini and Manohari, to marry. Annalukshmi has the kind of ambition none of them can understand.

Their neighbour is the Mudaliyar Navaratnam, now seventy, who lives in one of the grandest houses in Cinnamon Gardens. A relative on their paternal grandfather's side, he is an honorary uncle to the Kandiah girls as well as being one of the mudaliyars appointed by the British governor of Ceylon - an appointment based on loyalty to the British Empire. An official who listens to petitioners and has a seat of some kind in parliament, the Mudaliyar was raised as a very spoilt boy who never learnt how to deal with conflict or the needs of others. Years ago he exiled his eldest son for getting a servant girl pregnant - not for having sex with her or the child, but for falling in love with her and marrying her in secret. His own will thwarted, he banished Arul, and the girl Pakkiam, to India, granting him a small allowance but making his entire household, from his wife and younger son to all the servants, to never have any contact with him or speak of him again.

Balendran, the Mudaliyar's youngest son, was raised up in Arul's place. The boys had never been very close so Balendran had no problem putting aside thoughts of Arul - not so his mother, Nalamma. Now forty years old, Balendran has been successful in managing the family estate and temple - in fact the family's wealth and position has never been better because of the changes he made - and he long ago married his cousin Sonia, who is half-English, and had a son of his own, Lukshman, now at university in England. But Balendran has never forgotten - or overcome - his first love, Richard Howland, whom he lived with when he himself was a student in Britain. Twenty years have gone by, and suddenly Balendran is faced with the prospect of seeing Richard again, here, in Colombo.

Richard Howland is accompanying the Donoughmore Constitutional Commission to write a research paper on it, but Balendran's father thinks Richard is part of the commission itself, as an advisor to Dr Drummond Shiels, and wants Balendran to use his past connection and influence to get Richard on the Mudaliyar's side, and thus Dr Shiels. Balendran is deeply torn. He longs to see Richard again, yet is afraid to. Homosexuality is of course forbidden in Ceylonese society, and the Mudaliyar - who came to their home in England and knows exactly what they were doing - has Balendran under his thumb not just with the familial obligations that tie son to father, but with the power of his knowledge as well. His wife Sonia is furious because the Mudaliyar is against self-governemnt and universal franchise (giving the vote to the entire population, regardless of gender or caste), and Balendran would be a hypocrite to promote something he doesn't believe in, on his father's behalf.

But Richard isn't an advisor, he has no influence, and without that manipulation hanging over Balendran he is free to focus on rebuilding his own relationship with Richard. It means opening himself up to his own needs and desires once again, being vulnerable and more aware of the lies he lives.

Both Annalukshmi and Balendran are faced with strong opposition to the lifestyle and freedoms they want, and handle it in slightly different ways. For Annalukshmi, it is a time of shedding her youthful naiveté and seeing more clearly her position in Ceylonese society - not just among her own people and class, but in the eyes of her mentor Miss Lawton as well. She must decide what path she will take, for she cannot have marriage and a career. Balendran must face the family's secrets, their locked-away past, and learn for himself just where his loyalties should lie: with his dictatorial father and his dictates born of fear, or with his own heart, his own conscience. As change bears down on the entire colony, and a new era is on the cusp of being born, these two cousins also go through change and growth, and must decide who they will be on the other side.

I read this for a recent book club meeting; it wasn't a novel I'd heard of before and I don't know that it's readily available outside of Canada. The author, Shyam Selvadurai, came to Canada from Sri Lanka when he was nineteen, lives in Toronto, and is himself gay. I found that the character of Balendran, the troubled, gay son of a small-minded, influential man and caught up in the laws of traditional Tamil society which makes honouring the father more important that almost anything else, both refreshing and illuminating. This sounds weird maybe, but I really enjoy reading about homosexual characters, and you just don't get many books that aren't labelled as LGBT fiction, that delve into the lives of LGBT people in such a way (especially historical fiction). It's not like being gay is a new thing - quite the contrary, it's as old as humanity itself - but as a group they're sorely missing from literature. Living in hiding, in fear, in persecution, surely would make not just interesting, intriguing and possibly eye-opening fiction; it would acknowledge the kind of pain Balendran experienced, having to deny a major part of who he is and pretend, fake it, create an illusion at the expense of his own nature. It's not fair to him, it's not fair to Sonia who does actually love her husband, and it's just so sad.

Annalukshmi provided a nice contrast to Balendran, and supplied a glimpse into another oppressive aspect of Ceylonese culture and tradition and laws: the uneasy introduction of feminism and women's rights (or lack thereof). What was especially interesting was how Annalukshmi, who had gained an English education and had, in her way of thinking, moved away from a more traditional Tamil mentality, was not only thwarted in her ambitions by her own society, family, culture and traditions, but by the English themselves. As she learns from her friend Nancy, a low-caste Ceylonese girl who had been orphaned and adopted by Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton herself doesn't think Ceylonese women have the ability or capacity to learn the skills required to be a headmistress - which is Annalukshmi's ambition. While within Ceylon there were so many rules and strictures and laws of tradition that proscribed female behaviour (and everyone's behaviour), the English brought another layer to the picture: that of civilised coloniser who, through a simple education and conversion to Christianity, seeks to "save" the natives and give them a humanity as defined by the British (who wouldn't have acknowledged the Ceylonese any other way) - but never to see them as anything more than the Exotic Other, the civilised savage, a people no more able to rule themselves than they are to handle more complex mental tasks, like running a school.

Annalukshmi goes through quite a process of figuring herself out and deciding what she'll fight for - much as Balendran was, but also different. She's a very relatable character, and it's easy to think of her as a kind of Anne of Green Gables, with her penchant for mischief and disobeying the rules, for striving to be better, for her zest for life. Unwilling to settle, knowing she could never live the life of a sequestered Hindu wife and not interested in being a Christian one either, Annalukshmi does not take the easy road. I can only imagine that her life beyond the book would be a tough one, and it's so tragic to think of what women had to sacrifice - it's always one or the other: family or career, you couldn't have both. It's still like that in so many places, and even in our developed nations, women often end up having to sacrifice their career in order to have a family, especially if they can't afford daycare or a nanny. As someone who greatly values and appreciates the freedoms that I have as a woman today, I love reading about the pioneer women, the women who led the way and fought hard to acquire the vote and other rights: the idea of losing these rights chills me to the bone. So I felt for Annalukshmi, yes I really did.

Many supporting characters have the chance to show their perspectives as well, and shed further light on this society. Take Sonia for example, who was raised English - mostly by her aunt - but still confined by Tamil traditions and laws. In this way she reflects on her marriage to Balendran:

What a difference there was between her expectations and what her marriage had really turned out to be. She belonged, she knew, to that group of women from Europe who had married non-European men as an escape from the strictures of their world, a refusal to conform. What they did not know, could not have known, was that these men, so outcast in Europe and America, were, in their own land, the very thing women like her were trying to escape. This was what she had not been prepared for. Balendran's unquestioning obedience to familial and social dictates, his formality even in their lovemaking, his insistence that they maintain separate bedrooms. [pp.79-80]


Poor Sonia - I wonder whether her marriage would have been a more positive experience had Balendran not been gay, and not had the father that he did.

In the guise of a simple, very human story I came to learn a lot about the British colony of Ceylon during the 1920s - a pivotal time for the island. I can't say I understand everything, and this is just one slice of the island's history, but Selvadurai does a great job of incorporating the historical context and exposition into the story, making it relevant and comprehensible. It is quite complicated, but it was a good beginner's lesson for me and stirred my interest in the topic. Selvadurai manages to show both the negative - or confused - effects of British colonisation on this old, traditional society, as well as the great strides the people had made in adapting to this new world and making the best of it. Some more than others, of course: if you benefit from a new ruler, you're of course most likely to support them.

Cinnamon Gardens begins slowly, but alternating between Annalukshmi and Balendran it soon picks up and as you get your bearings more and understand the place and the era and the mixed-up culture better, it becomes more interesting. I wasn't as impressed with the writing as I was with the story itself. The storytelling was good, but the flow and pacing was a bit awkward, the prose a bit clunky at times. For a second novel it's a solid work and definitely worth reading, but it's not as polished as it could have been. There are clear signs of skill and talent, and Selvadurai created a colonial, faux-British historical setting that felt very authentic and real. There is a lot going on here about being blinded or repressed by tradition, of being true to yourself despite what society thinks, and standing up for yourself. It's a story about the illusions of civilisation, the things we emphasise as being markers of true nobility and civilisation that are, like everything else, constructs and changeable. And it's a story about love: within the family and without, of sacrifice and obligation, and of treading the fine line between tradition, culture, religion and modernism. A fine achievement in historical fiction.
]]> <![CDATA[The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope]]> 15818218 The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope is an unconventional and passionately romantic love story that is as breathtaking and wondrous as The Time Traveler's Wife and The Story of Edgar Sawtelle.

During WWII, teenager Evelyn Roe is sent to manage the family farm in rural North Carolina, where she finds what she takes to be a badly burned soldier on their property. She rescues him, and it quickly becomes clear he is not a man...and not one of us. The rescued body recovers at an unnatural speed, and just as fast, Evelyn and Adam fall deeply in love. In The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope, Rhonda Riley reveals the exhilarating, terrifying mystery inherent in all relationships: No matter how deeply we love someone, and no matter how much we will sacrifice for them, we can only know them so well...]]> 424 Rhonda Riley 0062099442 Shannon 3
The war has not yet ended when Evelyn, the oldest of four siblings and the only one with any experience, is told by her parents that she will run her Aunt Eva's farm now that her aunt has died and her sons aren't coming back from the war. Evelyn is quite happy to work on the farm and live in Aunt Eva's old farmhouse, even if it has no electricity or indoor plumbing; she has a deep love for the land that nurtures them all and enjoys the hard work.

It is while she is out checking the property during a rainstorm that is turning into a flood that her dog, Hobo, finds something in the clay mud. Investigating, Evelyn discovers what she takes for a man's arm, then a body, and in a panic digs him out. His skin is rough-textured: she imagines that he was horribly burned in the war, but where has he come from and how did he get there? Taking him inside, wrapped in quilts, she lays him by the stove fire in the kitchen and snuggles close to keep him warm. Each glimpse of his face tells her that this is no ordinary man caught out in a storm with no clothes on. His features slowly take on shape and form, a face gradually appearing where there was barely one before. But it is days before Evelyn realises that not only is it a she, but she is identical to Evelyn. She has copied Evelyn's form.

Evelyn calls her Addie, and tells her family and the townspeople that Addie is her cousin on her father's side (her aunt being the run to run off and get pregnant - the scandal!). Belatedly she remembers that her father's side is dark, while she and Addie have the red hair and green eyes of her mother's Irish family, the McMurrough's. Still, nobody questions it, and when Addie displays an unusual skill with horses she becomes much sought-after as a trainer and "sweetener".

From almost the time when Addie's formation was complete, she and Evelyn had been lovers. As several years pass and Evelyn begins to yearn for children, Addie figures out a way to make it happen, and for the two of them to stay together: she leaves for two weeks and when she returns, she has the body of a man, a man called Roy Hope who stopped by their farm for refreshment - and to steal their money. A tall, dark-haired and handsome young man, Addie becomes Adam Hope, and the deception continues, only this time he and Evelyn can marry and have children of their own.

Throughout Evelyn's life with Adam, she is confronted by the ease of her own lies, her cowardice in never telling her children who - or what - their father really is, and the small-mindedness of the people she's grown up with, both family and townspeople. It is a long and fruitful life for Evelyn, but as she ages and Adam remains a smooth-skinned twenty-five, thirty at most, having never seen an older Roy Hope to model off, new questions emerge, and Evelyn must face a new fear - and Adam a new decision.

The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope has many strengths, especially it's fascinating premise, upon which the whole novel rests. With deep Biblical roots - the flood, the man made of clay taking the form of Evelyn, Adam-and-Eve, and the strange but beautiful bell tones Adam/Addie makes from his/her chest - the story takes the more interesting, organic angle by stripping these tropes of their religious trappings and taking them back, back to their clay-like beginnings. There is something so beautifully organic about Addie/Adam, so life-affirming. Like by removing religion from her/his beginnings, it reverts to an older form of mythology, an origin story that's about Life, not God.

Without becoming too heavy-handed, Evelyn likewise begins to question the religious upbringing of her youth (her family attend the Baptist church), which can no longer explain or speak to her new understanding of life, or the tragedies that occur. The advent of Adam in her life also makes her see the people she's always known in a new light, especially when they become small-minded and judgemental, ostracising Adam for something they don't understand: he becomes a metaphor for this in all its forms, across all of America and beyond. It was nicely done.

One of the things I loved about the story was the vivid descriptions of the land and the tangible sense of Evelyn's - and Adam's - love for it. It carries with it a strong feeling of nostalgia, too, as Evelyn's farm becomes surrounded by new highways over the years, and developers start offering pots of money for parts of their farm. Being an audience to Evelyn's life over so many decades, you really get a sense for how much has changed, some for the better, some not so desirable. The simple, peaceful life of Evelyn's youth, those early years when she lived with Addie, become rather sad because they are completely gone. Watching Evelyn go through the old farmhouse after they've moved to Florida, and feeling how empty it is, how bereft - with echoes of her and her family's lives like the height measurements on the doorframe, or the twins' treehouse - made me feel so sad, especially as I've felt such moments myself, though nothing so strong as this.

In a way, the novel struck me as less of a romance between Evelyn and Adam, and more of a romance between Evelyn and the land - which Adam came from, and represents. But while I never quite managed to connect with Adam - Evelyn keeps him at a distance from the reader; more on that in a bit - the land itself is a much stronger "character" in the novel. A "character" I could believe in and understand. These are the strengths of the novel; where Riley's debut novel struggles a bit is in knowing where to take the story, from that riveting premise to a satisfying and meaningful conclusion, and in creating characters who manage to resonate in your heart.

While I did find the story to be believable - it's written in such a way, with just enough focus on details and the everyday - I did find that the characters struggled to live off the page. Evelyn is writing this as something to leave her daughters, as she never managed to tell them the truth of their father or how her youngest, Sarah, now looks Asian after several years of living with her husband in China - but it's just the proof she needs. And it does have that cadence to it, a kind of storytelling rhythm, that I liked. It feels like Evelyn really is speaking/writing/retelling the story of her life; she is an ordinary woman, with no special gifts or talents of her own, and no remarkable life-changing moments - except for those concerning Adam, which she's always kept secret. So it is easy to relate to her. She feels incredibly familiar. But I never really connected with her, emotionally.

I had a similar problem with Adam, and all the secondary characters. I felt like I was watching a movie, a film play out before me, something that I could visualise clearly in my imagination but which never quite made it to my heart. The telling point was the terrible tragedy that strikes the family: it was exactly the kind of thing that would normally make me cry, a lot, and yet it barely made my eyes wet.

There are moments of tension, scenes of danger even - as when Evelyn races to "abduct" Adam from the hospital where the doctors, having X-rayed him and discovered some strange and, they believe, life-threatening abnormalities about him, are getting ready to cut him open - but by and large the story is more like a gently rolling hill. It was often quite soothing, to go with the flow, see where it took you, and watch this family grow and age and change and so on. But it also has a kind of aimlessness that I wasn't really expecting, and I can't decide whether the ending was the only ending it could have had (my gut says "yes") or a bit of a cop-out (that's my cynical, critical side having its say). Whichever it is, it wasn't totally satisfying, perhaps because it just lacked the kind of oomph you would want in this kind of story, about someone as incredible as Adam.

As an abstract concept, I loved Adam. Having him change from female to male (I don't feel qualified to comment on Evelyn taking a lover who looked exactly like herself) was a pivotal moment and, theoretically, opens up a whole range of questions on gender identity and the norm (in fact, Adam as an Otherwordly being opens up those questions regardless), but the novel shied away from going down that speculative route and instead stayed on the well-trodden path of a Woman's Story. Nothing wrong with that, but it was disappointing for me, as I love those books that delve into such topics and really make me think in new and confronting ways. That, I fear, is at the heart of my umming-and-ahhing: The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope carries with it the promise of a confronting novel and instead tries to force the Unusual and Unknown into the mould of the Everday, the Normal.

While this is, I believe, partly the point of the novel - it is Evelyn's decision to put limits on Adam's Otherness, to try and make him fit in, and this fear of being ousted or found out is at the heart of Evelyn's inner conflict: she loves the things that make Adam unique but is too scared of people's reactions to allow him to reveal them to anyone else - it made of Adam's uniqueness a tool or literary convention, rather than a puzzling, speculative and thought-provoking question in its own right.

To be fair, that does make the novel successful in its aims: this is a story about an ordinary person trying to make the extraordinary into the everyday out of fear and cowardice, never quite able to unite the two sides of herself and make peace with the unanswerable questions. But to me it remained merely observational. Evelyn, with her minimal educational background, was not someone able to look too deeply into the unknown: she had questions but never once came close to thinking through them to find answers for herself, she wanted someone else to hand them to her, and Adam had no idea where he was from or what he was anymore than she did (but he, at least, was content with who he was and was focused on living and loving life to its fullest). Certainly, this leaves the reader to form their own speculations, but it doesn't change the fact that the novel remains sadly shallow in that regard.

As you can tell from all that, I feel very conflicted about this book. It is a fairly slow read, the prose being a bit stiff especially up until Evelyn has her first child (I loved that Riley portrays childbirth so realistically; too many writers don't and it's become a bit of a pet peeve of mine), but there is a great deal of potential here and Riley is, at the end of the day, a strong writer with interesting ideas and a deft touch for making the ordinary seem extraordinary. Regardless of how I felt about the ending and so on, this isn't a forgettable story and the lingering questions strengthen rather than weaken it: the unexplained mystery is more compulsive, fascinating and beguiling than the answers ever could be.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.73 2013 The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope
author: Rhonda Riley
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.73
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/05/06
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: historical-fiction, speculative-fiction, 2013, fiction, tlc-book-tours, removed
review:
When seventeen-year-old Evelyn Roe digs an unformed, featureless human right out of the red clay of her family's farm in North Carolina during a torrential winter rainstorm, she had little idea just how much her narrow existence, or her ideas of life, would change. Rhonda Riley's story of Evelyn's life, her great love for this Other being the existence of which she cannot explain but which will confront all her traditional, accepted ideas - and those of her small-town community in the aftermath of World War II - has all the quiet, everyday normality of a real woman's life, complemented by the bizarre, the extraordinary, the unexpected.

The war has not yet ended when Evelyn, the oldest of four siblings and the only one with any experience, is told by her parents that she will run her Aunt Eva's farm now that her aunt has died and her sons aren't coming back from the war. Evelyn is quite happy to work on the farm and live in Aunt Eva's old farmhouse, even if it has no electricity or indoor plumbing; she has a deep love for the land that nurtures them all and enjoys the hard work.

It is while she is out checking the property during a rainstorm that is turning into a flood that her dog, Hobo, finds something in the clay mud. Investigating, Evelyn discovers what she takes for a man's arm, then a body, and in a panic digs him out. His skin is rough-textured: she imagines that he was horribly burned in the war, but where has he come from and how did he get there? Taking him inside, wrapped in quilts, she lays him by the stove fire in the kitchen and snuggles close to keep him warm. Each glimpse of his face tells her that this is no ordinary man caught out in a storm with no clothes on. His features slowly take on shape and form, a face gradually appearing where there was barely one before. But it is days before Evelyn realises that not only is it a she, but she is identical to Evelyn. She has copied Evelyn's form.

Evelyn calls her Addie, and tells her family and the townspeople that Addie is her cousin on her father's side (her aunt being the run to run off and get pregnant - the scandal!). Belatedly she remembers that her father's side is dark, while she and Addie have the red hair and green eyes of her mother's Irish family, the McMurrough's. Still, nobody questions it, and when Addie displays an unusual skill with horses she becomes much sought-after as a trainer and "sweetener".

From almost the time when Addie's formation was complete, she and Evelyn had been lovers. As several years pass and Evelyn begins to yearn for children, Addie figures out a way to make it happen, and for the two of them to stay together: she leaves for two weeks and when she returns, she has the body of a man, a man called Roy Hope who stopped by their farm for refreshment - and to steal their money. A tall, dark-haired and handsome young man, Addie becomes Adam Hope, and the deception continues, only this time he and Evelyn can marry and have children of their own.

Throughout Evelyn's life with Adam, she is confronted by the ease of her own lies, her cowardice in never telling her children who - or what - their father really is, and the small-mindedness of the people she's grown up with, both family and townspeople. It is a long and fruitful life for Evelyn, but as she ages and Adam remains a smooth-skinned twenty-five, thirty at most, having never seen an older Roy Hope to model off, new questions emerge, and Evelyn must face a new fear - and Adam a new decision.

The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope has many strengths, especially it's fascinating premise, upon which the whole novel rests. With deep Biblical roots - the flood, the man made of clay taking the form of Evelyn, Adam-and-Eve, and the strange but beautiful bell tones Adam/Addie makes from his/her chest - the story takes the more interesting, organic angle by stripping these tropes of their religious trappings and taking them back, back to their clay-like beginnings. There is something so beautifully organic about Addie/Adam, so life-affirming. Like by removing religion from her/his beginnings, it reverts to an older form of mythology, an origin story that's about Life, not God.

Without becoming too heavy-handed, Evelyn likewise begins to question the religious upbringing of her youth (her family attend the Baptist church), which can no longer explain or speak to her new understanding of life, or the tragedies that occur. The advent of Adam in her life also makes her see the people she's always known in a new light, especially when they become small-minded and judgemental, ostracising Adam for something they don't understand: he becomes a metaphor for this in all its forms, across all of America and beyond. It was nicely done.

One of the things I loved about the story was the vivid descriptions of the land and the tangible sense of Evelyn's - and Adam's - love for it. It carries with it a strong feeling of nostalgia, too, as Evelyn's farm becomes surrounded by new highways over the years, and developers start offering pots of money for parts of their farm. Being an audience to Evelyn's life over so many decades, you really get a sense for how much has changed, some for the better, some not so desirable. The simple, peaceful life of Evelyn's youth, those early years when she lived with Addie, become rather sad because they are completely gone. Watching Evelyn go through the old farmhouse after they've moved to Florida, and feeling how empty it is, how bereft - with echoes of her and her family's lives like the height measurements on the doorframe, or the twins' treehouse - made me feel so sad, especially as I've felt such moments myself, though nothing so strong as this.

In a way, the novel struck me as less of a romance between Evelyn and Adam, and more of a romance between Evelyn and the land - which Adam came from, and represents. But while I never quite managed to connect with Adam - Evelyn keeps him at a distance from the reader; more on that in a bit - the land itself is a much stronger "character" in the novel. A "character" I could believe in and understand. These are the strengths of the novel; where Riley's debut novel struggles a bit is in knowing where to take the story, from that riveting premise to a satisfying and meaningful conclusion, and in creating characters who manage to resonate in your heart.

While I did find the story to be believable - it's written in such a way, with just enough focus on details and the everyday - I did find that the characters struggled to live off the page. Evelyn is writing this as something to leave her daughters, as she never managed to tell them the truth of their father or how her youngest, Sarah, now looks Asian after several years of living with her husband in China - but it's just the proof she needs. And it does have that cadence to it, a kind of storytelling rhythm, that I liked. It feels like Evelyn really is speaking/writing/retelling the story of her life; she is an ordinary woman, with no special gifts or talents of her own, and no remarkable life-changing moments - except for those concerning Adam, which she's always kept secret. So it is easy to relate to her. She feels incredibly familiar. But I never really connected with her, emotionally.

I had a similar problem with Adam, and all the secondary characters. I felt like I was watching a movie, a film play out before me, something that I could visualise clearly in my imagination but which never quite made it to my heart. The telling point was the terrible tragedy that strikes the family: it was exactly the kind of thing that would normally make me cry, a lot, and yet it barely made my eyes wet.

There are moments of tension, scenes of danger even - as when Evelyn races to "abduct" Adam from the hospital where the doctors, having X-rayed him and discovered some strange and, they believe, life-threatening abnormalities about him, are getting ready to cut him open - but by and large the story is more like a gently rolling hill. It was often quite soothing, to go with the flow, see where it took you, and watch this family grow and age and change and so on. But it also has a kind of aimlessness that I wasn't really expecting, and I can't decide whether the ending was the only ending it could have had (my gut says "yes") or a bit of a cop-out (that's my cynical, critical side having its say). Whichever it is, it wasn't totally satisfying, perhaps because it just lacked the kind of oomph you would want in this kind of story, about someone as incredible as Adam.

As an abstract concept, I loved Adam. Having him change from female to male (I don't feel qualified to comment on Evelyn taking a lover who looked exactly like herself) was a pivotal moment and, theoretically, opens up a whole range of questions on gender identity and the norm (in fact, Adam as an Otherwordly being opens up those questions regardless), but the novel shied away from going down that speculative route and instead stayed on the well-trodden path of a Woman's Story. Nothing wrong with that, but it was disappointing for me, as I love those books that delve into such topics and really make me think in new and confronting ways. That, I fear, is at the heart of my umming-and-ahhing: The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope carries with it the promise of a confronting novel and instead tries to force the Unusual and Unknown into the mould of the Everday, the Normal.

While this is, I believe, partly the point of the novel - it is Evelyn's decision to put limits on Adam's Otherness, to try and make him fit in, and this fear of being ousted or found out is at the heart of Evelyn's inner conflict: she loves the things that make Adam unique but is too scared of people's reactions to allow him to reveal them to anyone else - it made of Adam's uniqueness a tool or literary convention, rather than a puzzling, speculative and thought-provoking question in its own right.

To be fair, that does make the novel successful in its aims: this is a story about an ordinary person trying to make the extraordinary into the everyday out of fear and cowardice, never quite able to unite the two sides of herself and make peace with the unanswerable questions. But to me it remained merely observational. Evelyn, with her minimal educational background, was not someone able to look too deeply into the unknown: she had questions but never once came close to thinking through them to find answers for herself, she wanted someone else to hand them to her, and Adam had no idea where he was from or what he was anymore than she did (but he, at least, was content with who he was and was focused on living and loving life to its fullest). Certainly, this leaves the reader to form their own speculations, but it doesn't change the fact that the novel remains sadly shallow in that regard.

As you can tell from all that, I feel very conflicted about this book. It is a fairly slow read, the prose being a bit stiff especially up until Evelyn has her first child (I loved that Riley portrays childbirth so realistically; too many writers don't and it's become a bit of a pet peeve of mine), but there is a great deal of potential here and Riley is, at the end of the day, a strong writer with interesting ideas and a deft touch for making the ordinary seem extraordinary. Regardless of how I felt about the ending and so on, this isn't a forgettable story and the lingering questions strengthen rather than weaken it: the unexplained mystery is more compulsive, fascinating and beguiling than the answers ever could be.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> <![CDATA[Shadow on the Crown (The Emma of Normandy Trilogy #1)]]> 15752152 Determined to outmaneuver her adversaries, Emma forges alliances with influential men at court and wins the affection of the English people. But her growing love for a man who is not her husband and the imminent threat of a Viking invasion jeopardize both her crown and her life.
Based on real events recorded in the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle," "Shadow on the Crown" introduces readers to a fascinating, overlooked period of history and an unforgettable heroine whose quest to find her place in the world will resonate with modern readers.


]]> 416 Patricia Bracewell 0670026395 Shannon 4
England, A.D. 1002

In a world lit by fire and ruled by the sword, a fifteen-year-old girl kneels to receive an English crown – an act that will echo down the ages.

Within that circlet of gold the ambitions of four powerful men are about to collide, for this young queen is the key to all that they desire.

To a calculating Norman duke she is a blood tie to the wealthiest monarchy in Europe. To a haunted English king she is a guarantee of allies against a fierce and brutal enemy. To Denmark’s Viking ruler she is a prize worth ten times her weight in silver. To a young ætheling of England she is a temptation to forbidden passion.

Her name is Emma ... and she will change the course of history.


Doesn't that make you want to read it?

When King Æthelred II of England's wife dies giving birth to their eleventh child, which also dies, he has two options to consider for remarrying: Lady Elgiva of Mercia, a voluptuous sixteen-year-old who hungers for power and is the wealthiest woman in England, but as the daughter of ealdorman Ælfhelm of Northumbria, marrying her who gives unprecedented power to the northern lord, and Æthelred is nothing if not extremely paranoid, suspicious, afraid and completely untrusting. His other option is across the Narrow Sea.

Emma of Normandy is the youngest sister of Duke Richard, who rules Normandy, a province of France. By marrying her, Æthelred - or his council of advisors - hope that this would give Richard an incentive to close his harbours to the Danes, led by Swein Forkbeard, who continue to pillage, rape and murder along the coast of England ever summer. What the English fail to realise is that if Richard refuses the Danes, Normandy will suffer the same fate.

King Æthelred is haunted by the spectre of his older half-brother, King Edward, who was murdered when Æthelred was just a small boy. Rumour has it that it was Æthelred's mother who arranged it so that her son would rule England. The shadow of Edward plagues Æthelred and makes him even more unstable a ruler; combined with his paranoia and lack of trust, and Æthelred will listen to no one and makes rash and dangerous decisions. He has no love for his new young wife, Emma, and barely even tolerates her. For Emma's part, she was sent to marry him over her older sister because of her gift of tongues - she speaks several languages - and her intelligence. Her mother, a Dane, has hope that Emma will be able to forge alliances and subtly guide the king, but no one had counted on Æthelred's unpredictability, his rages, his deep suspicion of all around him, including his own sons.

His eldest son, the ætheling Athelstan, is only a couple of years older than Emma. Already he carries himself as a leader and offers sage advice to his father, advice Æthelred ignores because he feels threatened by Athelstan. He is initially distrustful of his father new Norman bride as well, but his plan to get to know her to learn more about her brother's plans results in mutual admiration and respect, and then love. But it is a deeply forbidden love, one they must hide and never act upon, because it would take little for Æthelred to set Emma aside since she has yet to bear a child.

When the Danes begin their assault on England's southern coast once more, the king's uselessness in the face of this dire threat compounds Athelstan's impatience, but the words of a seer continue to echo in his head: that he will never be king of England. To sit back, though, and let his father practically give England - the wealthiest country in Europe at the time - to the Danish king, Forkbeard, is intolerable. And walking the fine line between father and son, between Forkbeard and England, is Emma, who realises that she must take the power that is hers by right, or everything will be for naught.

The first book in Patricia Bracewell's new trilogy about the life of Emma of Normandy is engrossing and fascinating. It's not a time period I know a lot about - 1066, the Battle of Hastings, which marks the beginning of Norman (French) rule in England and the subjugation of the Saxons (followed by the Welsh*), is better known and, in a way, also marks the beginning of my historical knowledge. This novel is set between the years 1002 and 1005 (actually it begins in December 1001) and combines the early, fraught years of Emma's unpleasant marriage to Æthelred, with the truly scary dangers posed by the Danish marauders who pillaged the coast, sacking towns and making off with great wealth (with which they can build more dragon ships, raise larger armies and return for more).

I learnt a lot from reading this book. While Bracewell's note at the end separates fiction from fact, even were it entirely fictional there's still much to learn. The details are rich: from the clothing they wore, the jewellery, the daily routine and customs, the meanings behind things, the politics and economics of the kingdom. The England of the 11th century is just as divisive as ever, with England divided into Wessex in the south (the king's territory), East Anglia to the east, and Mercier in the centre - the map comes in handy. To the west is Wales, and to the north is Northumbria, or Scotland, where the population is descended from Vikings. There are no scenes in Northumbria, Wales or East Anglia, though their presence is always felt (well, not so much Wales, which I understand kept to itself until the Normans came).



The atmosphere, too, is vibrant and completely took me away from the comfort of my home. The unstable king created a tense, uncertain and even dangerous world for his people, but especially for Emma who was completely at his mercy and often reminded of that fact. This thread of danger, of threat, weaves in and out of the narrative and, coupled with the turbulent times, the powerful Danish host that wrecked such destruction on the English towns, and the overall lack of unity within the king's borders, it all serves to keep you on high alert, unsure what's coming but always with a feeling that the worst could happen. This tension is balanced by scenes between friends and lovers, of loyalty and the beauty of the land itself - though a lot of the time it's raining.

Emma grows and matures a great deal over the course of the novel and the few years it deals with in her young life. She was always possessed of a calm and a rational, compassionate intelligence, but she develops some steel from having to deal with the mercurial Æthelred, driven almost to madness by his guilt over his brother's murder. Emma is in a tough, unenviable place, and the fact that she's often viewed as the enemy only makes her position even more precarious. There's also Elgiva's jealousy, resentment, and animosity: Emma is the competition, and Elgiva, who is headstrong, ambitious, and clever enough to be dangerous, is her antithesis in all ways, right down to knowing how to use her body as a tool.

Athelstan, too, grows much over these years, and in him we see the beginnings of a true ruler. The only trouble is that he is beaten down and humiliated again and again by his suspicious father, and in turn does not know how to mollify or appease the king. He is too blunt, too honest and forthright, and worst of all is that he resembles Æthelred's dead brother Edward. Æthelred seems to have no love for any of his children, and has never taken any interest in any of their lives. His first wife was never crowned as queen, she was merely a consort, so his children by her have no titles or expectations beyond what Æthelred gives them. He pronounces Athelstan his heir but later retracts that. The growing tension between the king's older children and his new wife escalates when she finally has a baby, making them threats to each other for the same reason.

The plot is not complicated but it feels intricate because it deals with politics, economics, superstition and faith. This is a well fleshed-out world populated by living, breathing characters who make you ache, make you care, make you smile and make you despair. Yet it is never heavy or despondent, and is, I felt, free of any "presentism" - I was transported, and there was no judgement cast, no alteration of the customs to suit contemporary sensibilities or expectations. This is a finely crafted novel that tells a heartfelt story about a woman thrown to the lions who must learn, and learn quickly, how to protect herself and the people of England to whom she is now sworn.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

* Reading Sharon Kay Penman's taught me a lot about the kingdom after the Norman conquest and the taking of Wales. I may not have enjoyed it for the story's sake, but I did enjoy learning about the period and I recommend it for that reason.

to read my interview with author Patricia Bracewell.]]> 3.84 2013 Shadow on the Crown (The Emma of Normandy Trilogy #1)
author: Patricia Bracewell
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.84
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/20
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: historical-fiction, 2013, removed
review:
I'm going to have to start this review with the publisher's summary, simply because it's a really good one and does the job so much better than I would be able to:

England, A.D. 1002

In a world lit by fire and ruled by the sword, a fifteen-year-old girl kneels to receive an English crown – an act that will echo down the ages.

Within that circlet of gold the ambitions of four powerful men are about to collide, for this young queen is the key to all that they desire.

To a calculating Norman duke she is a blood tie to the wealthiest monarchy in Europe. To a haunted English king she is a guarantee of allies against a fierce and brutal enemy. To Denmark’s Viking ruler she is a prize worth ten times her weight in silver. To a young ætheling of England she is a temptation to forbidden passion.

Her name is Emma ... and she will change the course of history.


Doesn't that make you want to read it?

When King Æthelred II of England's wife dies giving birth to their eleventh child, which also dies, he has two options to consider for remarrying: Lady Elgiva of Mercia, a voluptuous sixteen-year-old who hungers for power and is the wealthiest woman in England, but as the daughter of ealdorman Ælfhelm of Northumbria, marrying her who gives unprecedented power to the northern lord, and Æthelred is nothing if not extremely paranoid, suspicious, afraid and completely untrusting. His other option is across the Narrow Sea.

Emma of Normandy is the youngest sister of Duke Richard, who rules Normandy, a province of France. By marrying her, Æthelred - or his council of advisors - hope that this would give Richard an incentive to close his harbours to the Danes, led by Swein Forkbeard, who continue to pillage, rape and murder along the coast of England ever summer. What the English fail to realise is that if Richard refuses the Danes, Normandy will suffer the same fate.

King Æthelred is haunted by the spectre of his older half-brother, King Edward, who was murdered when Æthelred was just a small boy. Rumour has it that it was Æthelred's mother who arranged it so that her son would rule England. The shadow of Edward plagues Æthelred and makes him even more unstable a ruler; combined with his paranoia and lack of trust, and Æthelred will listen to no one and makes rash and dangerous decisions. He has no love for his new young wife, Emma, and barely even tolerates her. For Emma's part, she was sent to marry him over her older sister because of her gift of tongues - she speaks several languages - and her intelligence. Her mother, a Dane, has hope that Emma will be able to forge alliances and subtly guide the king, but no one had counted on Æthelred's unpredictability, his rages, his deep suspicion of all around him, including his own sons.

His eldest son, the ætheling Athelstan, is only a couple of years older than Emma. Already he carries himself as a leader and offers sage advice to his father, advice Æthelred ignores because he feels threatened by Athelstan. He is initially distrustful of his father new Norman bride as well, but his plan to get to know her to learn more about her brother's plans results in mutual admiration and respect, and then love. But it is a deeply forbidden love, one they must hide and never act upon, because it would take little for Æthelred to set Emma aside since she has yet to bear a child.

When the Danes begin their assault on England's southern coast once more, the king's uselessness in the face of this dire threat compounds Athelstan's impatience, but the words of a seer continue to echo in his head: that he will never be king of England. To sit back, though, and let his father practically give England - the wealthiest country in Europe at the time - to the Danish king, Forkbeard, is intolerable. And walking the fine line between father and son, between Forkbeard and England, is Emma, who realises that she must take the power that is hers by right, or everything will be for naught.

The first book in Patricia Bracewell's new trilogy about the life of Emma of Normandy is engrossing and fascinating. It's not a time period I know a lot about - 1066, the Battle of Hastings, which marks the beginning of Norman (French) rule in England and the subjugation of the Saxons (followed by the Welsh*), is better known and, in a way, also marks the beginning of my historical knowledge. This novel is set between the years 1002 and 1005 (actually it begins in December 1001) and combines the early, fraught years of Emma's unpleasant marriage to Æthelred, with the truly scary dangers posed by the Danish marauders who pillaged the coast, sacking towns and making off with great wealth (with which they can build more dragon ships, raise larger armies and return for more).

I learnt a lot from reading this book. While Bracewell's note at the end separates fiction from fact, even were it entirely fictional there's still much to learn. The details are rich: from the clothing they wore, the jewellery, the daily routine and customs, the meanings behind things, the politics and economics of the kingdom. The England of the 11th century is just as divisive as ever, with England divided into Wessex in the south (the king's territory), East Anglia to the east, and Mercier in the centre - the map comes in handy. To the west is Wales, and to the north is Northumbria, or Scotland, where the population is descended from Vikings. There are no scenes in Northumbria, Wales or East Anglia, though their presence is always felt (well, not so much Wales, which I understand kept to itself until the Normans came).



The atmosphere, too, is vibrant and completely took me away from the comfort of my home. The unstable king created a tense, uncertain and even dangerous world for his people, but especially for Emma who was completely at his mercy and often reminded of that fact. This thread of danger, of threat, weaves in and out of the narrative and, coupled with the turbulent times, the powerful Danish host that wrecked such destruction on the English towns, and the overall lack of unity within the king's borders, it all serves to keep you on high alert, unsure what's coming but always with a feeling that the worst could happen. This tension is balanced by scenes between friends and lovers, of loyalty and the beauty of the land itself - though a lot of the time it's raining.

Emma grows and matures a great deal over the course of the novel and the few years it deals with in her young life. She was always possessed of a calm and a rational, compassionate intelligence, but she develops some steel from having to deal with the mercurial Æthelred, driven almost to madness by his guilt over his brother's murder. Emma is in a tough, unenviable place, and the fact that she's often viewed as the enemy only makes her position even more precarious. There's also Elgiva's jealousy, resentment, and animosity: Emma is the competition, and Elgiva, who is headstrong, ambitious, and clever enough to be dangerous, is her antithesis in all ways, right down to knowing how to use her body as a tool.

Athelstan, too, grows much over these years, and in him we see the beginnings of a true ruler. The only trouble is that he is beaten down and humiliated again and again by his suspicious father, and in turn does not know how to mollify or appease the king. He is too blunt, too honest and forthright, and worst of all is that he resembles Æthelred's dead brother Edward. Æthelred seems to have no love for any of his children, and has never taken any interest in any of their lives. His first wife was never crowned as queen, she was merely a consort, so his children by her have no titles or expectations beyond what Æthelred gives them. He pronounces Athelstan his heir but later retracts that. The growing tension between the king's older children and his new wife escalates when she finally has a baby, making them threats to each other for the same reason.

The plot is not complicated but it feels intricate because it deals with politics, economics, superstition and faith. This is a well fleshed-out world populated by living, breathing characters who make you ache, make you care, make you smile and make you despair. Yet it is never heavy or despondent, and is, I felt, free of any "presentism" - I was transported, and there was no judgement cast, no alteration of the customs to suit contemporary sensibilities or expectations. This is a finely crafted novel that tells a heartfelt story about a woman thrown to the lions who must learn, and learn quickly, how to protect herself and the people of England to whom she is now sworn.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

* Reading Sharon Kay Penman's taught me a lot about the kingdom after the Norman conquest and the taking of Wales. I may not have enjoyed it for the story's sake, but I did enjoy learning about the period and I recommend it for that reason.

to read my interview with author Patricia Bracewell.
]]> Stage Daughter 18044341 Astor Place Vintage

Every unmarried woman fears unwanted pregnancy (just as every married man dreads discovering he fathered an unknown child). Sonya Schoenberg dreamed of someday becoming a famous actress, but instead, a hapless, one-time tryst with a Muslim man lands her the lifetime role of single mother.

Alone and forsaken by her family, Sonya tries to keep her dream alive through her “stage daughter,” Razia, now a precocious pre-teen enrolled in a competitive performing arts school. But Raz prefers drawing to drama and has no problem defying her mom to get what she wants—be it piercing her own ears, doing a dumb dare, or hunting down her biological father, Aziz. While Sonya struggles to keep a tenuous hold over rebellious Raz, she stubbornly sets her sights on transforming her mom’s “sperm donor” into a doting dad. Meanwhile, Aziz (the father of two in an arranged marriage) follows a script all his own trying to convert his newfound daughter to Islam. Can this troubled threesome improvise a successful “second run” despite deep-rooted animosities and seemingly insurmountable barriers? Or will bitterness and bigotry forever steal center stage?

A daughter's determination, a mother's mistrust, and a father's faith collide in this witty and powerful story of healing, forgiveness, and family.]]> 349 Sheryl Sorrentino 1484173228 Shannon 4
Razia, now twelve, wants to find out about her father. Sonya has never spoken well of him but Razia has learnt that he owns several yoga studios and it's not hard for her to track him down. Meeting him brings both Sonya and Aziz together but not in a friendly or peaceful way: Sonya wants nothing to do with him and feels threatened by him, while Aziz makes sly comments about Sonya's parenting and the prospect of getting lawyers involved, and wants to convert Razia to Islam - though he hasn't yet told his wife or two children about her yet.

In the months leading up to the attack on New York's twin towers in September 2001, tensions rise, prejudices and assumptions are cast, and everyone in this family drama starts to look a bit ugly - well-meaning at heart, but blinded by bitterness and bigotry. Can they work things out and get along or will the abrasive clashes continue, with Razia caught in the middle?

This is the second book by Sorrentino that I've read, after enjoying a year ago; it's a very different story but told with the same skill in depicting realistic, earthy and interesting characters and complex, emotional issues. In some ways I enjoyed it more - it explores issues that have always interested me, namely religious, ethnic and cultural differences and how people get along together (or don't), as well as parenting and coming-of-age (for Sonya as well as Razia) - but I did weary of Sonya's bitter, stringent ranting, as true to her character as it was. I couldn't help but agree with some of the other characters: she really needed to get laid.

There are some really insightful passages in the novel, astute glimpses into what it's like living as an ethnic, religious or cultural minority (or all three, really) in contemporary United States. Sonya epitomises the ignorant citizen who's picked up some laughable stereotypes and is too arrogant to bother checking their veracity. But she does at least apologise and seems open to being corrected. It's not just Sonya's flaws that are sure to get you emotionally and intellectually engaged: Aziz, too, is going to push your buttons. Many of Sonya's criticisms of him are right on the mark, though she doesn't care about seeing things from his perspective. He is high-handed and a bit pompous, and Sorrentino does a deft and convincing job of presenting a man born to a very different way of living, trying to find a middle ground in America where he can stay true to the values he upholds and believes in.

Razia is the most sympathetic character, if you don't count the boy at her school who likes her enough to help her find her father but later becomes a scapegoat for Razia's inability to tell the truth over which of her peers tried to strangle her at school (apparently this is the new thing in attempting a "high"). She doesn't make it easy to like her, being in that delicate, vulnerable, troubled cusp age, but her yearning for a father - her need for a father, for a man to fill that role of authority, guidance and love - is a very human and necessary one and since she is the child in the situation, the blameless one in Sonya and Aziz's cock-up, she got my sympathy quite easily. And like with many young teens, her mistakes are overblown until no one can see her good qualities or the nice things she does or just how vulnerable and yearning she really is.

There's no doubt that Sorrentino succeeded admirably in her aims with Stage Daughter, bringing to life a clash of cultures and the prejudices of modern America - and we didn't even go into class or socio-economic issues, among other things, that are also explored here in more subtle ways - with realism, honesty and respect. Sorrentino isn't interested in reenforcing the divisions she sees in her own society, maintaining that "black and white" dichotomy America is so well known for; she's interested in giving troubled characters the chance to tell their story, warts and all. It's a story told with empathy, affection, humour and an appreciation for the things that make us different and unique. It's a coming-of-age story that delves into the heart of contemporary issues, from what makes a family a family to the perception of foreign religion as a threat. A fine achievement.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.]]> 4.45 2013 Stage Daughter
author: Sheryl Sorrentino
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.45
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/09/20
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: fiction, 2013, coming-of-age, angst, removed
review:
Sonya Schoenberg is the adopted, half-black daughter of a rich Jewish couple who soon after taking the girl of unknown parentage in, had their own child, a boy. Beautiful but entitled and resentful, prone to milking her parents for money rather than take a loving interest in them as people, Sonya dreamed of making it big on the stage or screen but never managed it - instead she had a one-night stand with a Kuwaiti man called Aziz and ended up with a fatherless daughter of her own, Razia. Sonya loves her daughter, but she's determined that Razia will succeed where she failed, and insists on Razia attending a private arts school in San Francisco with a focus on acting, even though Razia prefers to draw.

Razia, now twelve, wants to find out about her father. Sonya has never spoken well of him but Razia has learnt that he owns several yoga studios and it's not hard for her to track him down. Meeting him brings both Sonya and Aziz together but not in a friendly or peaceful way: Sonya wants nothing to do with him and feels threatened by him, while Aziz makes sly comments about Sonya's parenting and the prospect of getting lawyers involved, and wants to convert Razia to Islam - though he hasn't yet told his wife or two children about her yet.

In the months leading up to the attack on New York's twin towers in September 2001, tensions rise, prejudices and assumptions are cast, and everyone in this family drama starts to look a bit ugly - well-meaning at heart, but blinded by bitterness and bigotry. Can they work things out and get along or will the abrasive clashes continue, with Razia caught in the middle?

This is the second book by Sorrentino that I've read, after enjoying a year ago; it's a very different story but told with the same skill in depicting realistic, earthy and interesting characters and complex, emotional issues. In some ways I enjoyed it more - it explores issues that have always interested me, namely religious, ethnic and cultural differences and how people get along together (or don't), as well as parenting and coming-of-age (for Sonya as well as Razia) - but I did weary of Sonya's bitter, stringent ranting, as true to her character as it was. I couldn't help but agree with some of the other characters: she really needed to get laid.

There are some really insightful passages in the novel, astute glimpses into what it's like living as an ethnic, religious or cultural minority (or all three, really) in contemporary United States. Sonya epitomises the ignorant citizen who's picked up some laughable stereotypes and is too arrogant to bother checking their veracity. But she does at least apologise and seems open to being corrected. It's not just Sonya's flaws that are sure to get you emotionally and intellectually engaged: Aziz, too, is going to push your buttons. Many of Sonya's criticisms of him are right on the mark, though she doesn't care about seeing things from his perspective. He is high-handed and a bit pompous, and Sorrentino does a deft and convincing job of presenting a man born to a very different way of living, trying to find a middle ground in America where he can stay true to the values he upholds and believes in.

Razia is the most sympathetic character, if you don't count the boy at her school who likes her enough to help her find her father but later becomes a scapegoat for Razia's inability to tell the truth over which of her peers tried to strangle her at school (apparently this is the new thing in attempting a "high"). She doesn't make it easy to like her, being in that delicate, vulnerable, troubled cusp age, but her yearning for a father - her need for a father, for a man to fill that role of authority, guidance and love - is a very human and necessary one and since she is the child in the situation, the blameless one in Sonya and Aziz's cock-up, she got my sympathy quite easily. And like with many young teens, her mistakes are overblown until no one can see her good qualities or the nice things she does or just how vulnerable and yearning she really is.

There's no doubt that Sorrentino succeeded admirably in her aims with Stage Daughter, bringing to life a clash of cultures and the prejudices of modern America - and we didn't even go into class or socio-economic issues, among other things, that are also explored here in more subtle ways - with realism, honesty and respect. Sorrentino isn't interested in reenforcing the divisions she sees in her own society, maintaining that "black and white" dichotomy America is so well known for; she's interested in giving troubled characters the chance to tell their story, warts and all. It's a story told with empathy, affection, humour and an appreciation for the things that make us different and unique. It's a coming-of-age story that delves into the heart of contemporary issues, from what makes a family a family to the perception of foreign religion as a threat. A fine achievement.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.
]]> Bay of Fires 18375188
Journalist Hall Flynn arrives to investigate the murder, which has set the locals reeling. Haunted by demons of his own and yearning for a fresh start, Hall will do whatever it takes to break the story-and Sarah will do whatever it takes to keep her own secrets safe.]]> 384 Poppy Gee 0755387856 Shannon 3
On the day after Boxing Day, Roger discovers the body of a dead woman on the beach: topless, wearing a red polka-dot bikini, her body covered in gashes and partially eaten by sea creatures. Sarah, going to see, recognises the woman: a Swiss tourist called Anja who was staying at the guest house. It's clear to everyone in the community that Anja must have been murdered, probably by the same psycho who is behind the earlier disappearance of Chloe Crawford, a teenager who was holidaying with her family. Almost instantly many of the assorted holidayers and campers point their fingers at Roger, the oddball, the freak, as the guilty party. Personal, small-minded judgements against each other begin to fly as the community starts to turn on itself out of suspicion and fear.

The day after the discovery, a journalist from a local paper arrives for an extended stay. Hall Flynn is in his forties and single, a bad driver who can only sleep with a woman when he's drunk. He takes a shine to Sarah, who is the first woman he's slept with, drunk, in a long time who he'd like to spend more time with. Sarah becomes slightly obsessed with the mystery, and shares her theories with Hall, but she's prickly and hard to get to know.

Sarah has her own issues to contend with. There's the ugly truth of her breakup with Jake, her heavy drinking and her growing fear that she's a violent person. Her opinion of herself is sinking, especially after she wakes up on Boxing Day morning in the sand, lying in a pool of vomit with her fly undone and the last thing she can remember is picking up seventeen-year-old Sam Shelley and letting him have a drink. She doesn't know what happened but she fears the worst, and she fears the others in the bay finding out - especially his clingy mother, Simone, an American woman who runs a successful furniture business and has the only posh, new beach "shack" in the area.

There aren't many suspects in such a small area, but both Hall and Sarah contemplate them all while the community turns on itself, tensions run high and Roger is targeted. These are people Sarah's known all her life; what will she do with the truth when she learns it?

Mystery novels are not my usual fare - it's one of the few genres I don't generally read, with the exception of a few literary mysteries like this one, from time to time - so I can't really compare this to anything else. However, I absolutely love reading books set in my home state, and Poppy Gee hasn't written some bland generic novel here. Her debut is intelligent, literary, nuanced and deeply embedded in the local scenery. It touches on a range of issues, prominent among them the environment and environmental practices, fishing infringements, sensationalising media, scapegoating (especially of defenceless, vulnerable individuals who perhaps suffer from an intellectual disability of some kind), the appropriation of Aboriginal lands by white graziers, the ethics and morals around sound reporting, alcoholism, violence, marital woes, sexism, feminism and judgemental women. That might seem like a long list, but it all comes out through the narrative with natural ease.

I really enjoyed Sarah as a character. She was a woman in her thirties struggling with the decisions she'd made, struggling to understand what kind of person she was and whether she even liked herself. She was intelligent but moody, a bit of a hard-arse who really, secretly, wanted to be loved and cared for by a man she could respect and be an equal to, but she doesn't know how to open up. So used is she to working with - and being the boss of - all-male crews, and absorbing the sexism and crude opinions that come with them, that she's quite the opposite of girly-girl Erica. Sarah is athletic and very strong, and because she doesn't dress up or wear make-up or make her hair pretty, she's been mistaken as a lesbian more than once.

Hall seems an unlikely partner for Sarah, at first. He's no alpha-male, no macho Aussie bloke. He's a good reporter saddled with a bad editor, he's smart and not unattractive, but after his girlfriend of many years left him for his best friend, he's been unable to have meaningful relationships with any woman - and not interested in it either. He drinks, too, and smokes, and his driving made me cringe, but I really liked him. He seemed so down-to-earth, honest, not pretentious or posturing. Both Hall and Sarah are misfits in their small universes, suffering from insecurities and a lack of confidence, and I couldn't help think that they'd be great together - if they could give up their silly insecurities.

The mystery side of the story played out nicely, albeit slowly. This is a mystery narrative that revolves around the characters, getting to know them, learning and then unlearning them as new evidence comes to light. It's the kind of mystery that is designed to make you suspect almost all the characters at one point or other. The actual truth would have been anti-climactic but was made more interesting by the ethical and moral dilemma it threw up at Hall and Sarah.

Because I don't generally read mystery or crime or thriller novels, I can't really give you a sense for how successful it was as a mystery-suspense novel, only as a literary novel. I can say that there were a few scenes that were nicely creepy, some that were full of tension that would come out of nowhere and unsettle you nicely. While I did find that the plot was at times a little slow and uneventful, for a literary mystery-suspense story, it worked quite well and at a more intellectual level. Gee unwound the story of Sarah's Queensland disgrace slowly, letting readers balance the new information with a growing sense of Sarah as a person, which enables her to remain a sympathetic character.

The landscape itself was the strongest element to the whole book. The descriptions of the location where vivid and realistic, and peopled as it was with distinctly Australian characters, the world of Bay of Fires came vibrantly to life - which is what you want when your mystery novel depends on the interactions between the characters to maintain both the mystery and the suspense. While at times Gee's language was a little awkward and slowed me down, there were also some really beautiful lines as well, like "At the bar, a flannelette row of farm workers peered from beneath caps." [p.158] Gee's love for the real Bay of Fires Conservation Area (which does not, in reality, have a campground or guest house or shop as it does in the novel, only some shacks) comes across strongly, and the novel carries with it a real sense of place.

The mystery of the two missing women is loosely based (inspired, but not a recreation of) two real-life cases: the disappearance of German woman in 1993 and the death of Italian in 1995, tourists to the Bay of Fires whose cases were never solved - though in 2011 with information on the Grundwaldt case. In a place like Tasmania, with its peaceful, beautiful scenery and small, half-a-million population, the two cases gripped everyone's imaginations and are yet to be forgotten. In this way, too, Poppy Gee's novel will resonate with Australian readers at a more personal level.

Overall, I very much enjoyed this book, which I read as a literary novel more than a mystery - the mystery propels the story forward but it is the stylistic writing and the incredibly well-captured characters that keep you reading. It's gritty and realistic, and any time you add sinister tensions to a scenic landscape, you're going to get a wonderfully creepy atmosphere. There aren't many stories set in Tasmania, and in general, Australian authors seem overly conscious of the "cultural cringe" and avoid that sense of familiarity with location that, conversely, American authors embrace so whole-heartedly. Personally, I love reading stories set in places I recognise, and have lived in. Gee incorporated plenty of local sites and landmarks and places, without a trace of the dreaded cultural cringe, and for that I thank her. I'm very interested in what Poppy Gee writes next, because she's a talent to watch out for.

On a side note, I was a bit put-off by something about this book: this is an Australian writer, the story is set here, my edition was published in the UK, and yet the spelling is American. It was very jarring to read "color", "harbor", "tire" and so on, when everything else was so distinctly Australian. A pet peeve of mine.]]> 3.28 2013 Bay of Fires
author: Poppy Gee
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.28
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/11/18
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: fiction, mystery-suspense, 2013, australian-women-writers, aww2013, removed
review:
Sarah Avery has returned home to Tasmania in secret, silent disgrace. She's broken up with her boyfriend and quit her job at a fish farm in Queensland, and is back in time for Christmas. Her family has a beach shack in the isolated Bay of Fires national park and head there every year for Christmas and New Year's. Her parents are there: Philippa, or "Flip" as she's known, a pharmacist; and Dr John Avery, a history professor at the university. Her younger sister Erica as well - a flight attendant, pretty and a bit vapid. The Bay of Fires village is a small one, consisting of a guest house made from a converted Nissen hut; three beach shacks and a shop; the Shelley's holiday house; and a campground. The Avery's own one shack; the one closer to the guest house belongs to Flip's best friend, Pam, and her husband Don; while the blue one farther away belongs to Roger Coker, a strange fisherman who lives there year-round with his cats.

On the day after Boxing Day, Roger discovers the body of a dead woman on the beach: topless, wearing a red polka-dot bikini, her body covered in gashes and partially eaten by sea creatures. Sarah, going to see, recognises the woman: a Swiss tourist called Anja who was staying at the guest house. It's clear to everyone in the community that Anja must have been murdered, probably by the same psycho who is behind the earlier disappearance of Chloe Crawford, a teenager who was holidaying with her family. Almost instantly many of the assorted holidayers and campers point their fingers at Roger, the oddball, the freak, as the guilty party. Personal, small-minded judgements against each other begin to fly as the community starts to turn on itself out of suspicion and fear.

The day after the discovery, a journalist from a local paper arrives for an extended stay. Hall Flynn is in his forties and single, a bad driver who can only sleep with a woman when he's drunk. He takes a shine to Sarah, who is the first woman he's slept with, drunk, in a long time who he'd like to spend more time with. Sarah becomes slightly obsessed with the mystery, and shares her theories with Hall, but she's prickly and hard to get to know.

Sarah has her own issues to contend with. There's the ugly truth of her breakup with Jake, her heavy drinking and her growing fear that she's a violent person. Her opinion of herself is sinking, especially after she wakes up on Boxing Day morning in the sand, lying in a pool of vomit with her fly undone and the last thing she can remember is picking up seventeen-year-old Sam Shelley and letting him have a drink. She doesn't know what happened but she fears the worst, and she fears the others in the bay finding out - especially his clingy mother, Simone, an American woman who runs a successful furniture business and has the only posh, new beach "shack" in the area.

There aren't many suspects in such a small area, but both Hall and Sarah contemplate them all while the community turns on itself, tensions run high and Roger is targeted. These are people Sarah's known all her life; what will she do with the truth when she learns it?

Mystery novels are not my usual fare - it's one of the few genres I don't generally read, with the exception of a few literary mysteries like this one, from time to time - so I can't really compare this to anything else. However, I absolutely love reading books set in my home state, and Poppy Gee hasn't written some bland generic novel here. Her debut is intelligent, literary, nuanced and deeply embedded in the local scenery. It touches on a range of issues, prominent among them the environment and environmental practices, fishing infringements, sensationalising media, scapegoating (especially of defenceless, vulnerable individuals who perhaps suffer from an intellectual disability of some kind), the appropriation of Aboriginal lands by white graziers, the ethics and morals around sound reporting, alcoholism, violence, marital woes, sexism, feminism and judgemental women. That might seem like a long list, but it all comes out through the narrative with natural ease.

I really enjoyed Sarah as a character. She was a woman in her thirties struggling with the decisions she'd made, struggling to understand what kind of person she was and whether she even liked herself. She was intelligent but moody, a bit of a hard-arse who really, secretly, wanted to be loved and cared for by a man she could respect and be an equal to, but she doesn't know how to open up. So used is she to working with - and being the boss of - all-male crews, and absorbing the sexism and crude opinions that come with them, that she's quite the opposite of girly-girl Erica. Sarah is athletic and very strong, and because she doesn't dress up or wear make-up or make her hair pretty, she's been mistaken as a lesbian more than once.

Hall seems an unlikely partner for Sarah, at first. He's no alpha-male, no macho Aussie bloke. He's a good reporter saddled with a bad editor, he's smart and not unattractive, but after his girlfriend of many years left him for his best friend, he's been unable to have meaningful relationships with any woman - and not interested in it either. He drinks, too, and smokes, and his driving made me cringe, but I really liked him. He seemed so down-to-earth, honest, not pretentious or posturing. Both Hall and Sarah are misfits in their small universes, suffering from insecurities and a lack of confidence, and I couldn't help think that they'd be great together - if they could give up their silly insecurities.

The mystery side of the story played out nicely, albeit slowly. This is a mystery narrative that revolves around the characters, getting to know them, learning and then unlearning them as new evidence comes to light. It's the kind of mystery that is designed to make you suspect almost all the characters at one point or other. The actual truth would have been anti-climactic but was made more interesting by the ethical and moral dilemma it threw up at Hall and Sarah.

Because I don't generally read mystery or crime or thriller novels, I can't really give you a sense for how successful it was as a mystery-suspense novel, only as a literary novel. I can say that there were a few scenes that were nicely creepy, some that were full of tension that would come out of nowhere and unsettle you nicely. While I did find that the plot was at times a little slow and uneventful, for a literary mystery-suspense story, it worked quite well and at a more intellectual level. Gee unwound the story of Sarah's Queensland disgrace slowly, letting readers balance the new information with a growing sense of Sarah as a person, which enables her to remain a sympathetic character.

The landscape itself was the strongest element to the whole book. The descriptions of the location where vivid and realistic, and peopled as it was with distinctly Australian characters, the world of Bay of Fires came vibrantly to life - which is what you want when your mystery novel depends on the interactions between the characters to maintain both the mystery and the suspense. While at times Gee's language was a little awkward and slowed me down, there were also some really beautiful lines as well, like "At the bar, a flannelette row of farm workers peered from beneath caps." [p.158] Gee's love for the real Bay of Fires Conservation Area (which does not, in reality, have a campground or guest house or shop as it does in the novel, only some shacks) comes across strongly, and the novel carries with it a real sense of place.

The mystery of the two missing women is loosely based (inspired, but not a recreation of) two real-life cases: the disappearance of German woman in 1993 and the death of Italian in 1995, tourists to the Bay of Fires whose cases were never solved - though in 2011 with information on the Grundwaldt case. In a place like Tasmania, with its peaceful, beautiful scenery and small, half-a-million population, the two cases gripped everyone's imaginations and are yet to be forgotten. In this way, too, Poppy Gee's novel will resonate with Australian readers at a more personal level.

Overall, I very much enjoyed this book, which I read as a literary novel more than a mystery - the mystery propels the story forward but it is the stylistic writing and the incredibly well-captured characters that keep you reading. It's gritty and realistic, and any time you add sinister tensions to a scenic landscape, you're going to get a wonderfully creepy atmosphere. There aren't many stories set in Tasmania, and in general, Australian authors seem overly conscious of the "cultural cringe" and avoid that sense of familiarity with location that, conversely, American authors embrace so whole-heartedly. Personally, I love reading stories set in places I recognise, and have lived in. Gee incorporated plenty of local sites and landmarks and places, without a trace of the dreaded cultural cringe, and for that I thank her. I'm very interested in what Poppy Gee writes next, because she's a talent to watch out for.

On a side note, I was a bit put-off by something about this book: this is an Australian writer, the story is set here, my edition was published in the UK, and yet the spelling is American. It was very jarring to read "color", "harbor", "tire" and so on, when everything else was so distinctly Australian. A pet peeve of mine.
]]> Staunch: Ward of the State 15847227
Andy’s life began with difficulty – given up at birth, his adoptive father was a violent drunk, his adoptive mother a depressive. He became a ward of the state, and spent his entire adolescence in institutions and foster homes.

These were unhappy years, full of confusion, fear and abuse. It wasn’t until he met the kind-hearted Miriam that Andy found a parent figure he could trust, and the hope of happiness that had eluded him throughout childhood.

Ginger Briggs brings to life this true story with raw honesty and emotional depth. Staunch is a poignant portrayal of Andy and his friendship with Miriam. It also reveals the heroism of the many thousands who have survived harrowing experiences as Forgotten Australians.]]> 288 Ginger Briggs 0980374634 Shannon 4 In 1984, when he was twelve years old, Andy was sent to Wakma Reception Centre in Ballarat because Wakma Reception Centre was the type of place kids like Andy got sent. It was the place you went if your dad left your mum high and dry, or put her in hospital for a spell, or they just couldn't afford you. Or if they hated you. You ended up there if the department deemed you 'at risk', or if you'd already risked everything and lost. Nobody stayed there long; it was like a vestibule, a doctor's waiting room. A place you fetched up in until something else came along.

It isn't the first place Andy has been sent to. When he was only ten, his weak-willed mother, Dahlia, allowed her new husband, pony-tailed Victor, to divorce him. He was only adopted, anyway. Unwanted, unloved, isolated, Andy ends up in a place where the young, slightly effeminate social worker, Nigel, took him under his wing. What began as fun weekends trail biking turned into weekends at Nigel's place where the young boys were introduced to cigarettes, drugs and booze - and where Andy was introduced to Nigel's sexual appetites.

Broken, haunted and completely alone, Andy washes up at Wakma after a foster family situation goes badly, and it's there he meets the first person to show him unconditional love. Mary, or "Mez" as she's called, is only twenty-two; a small woman who's endured her own awful experiences at the hands of selfish, entitled men. She is Andy's first real friend, and he easily slips into the practice of thinking of her as his mother. When she leaves for a year of travelling the world, like so many Australians, Andy is taken in by a new foster family, one with a son about his own age. Unfortunately, without explanation (though the truth was that the couple's marriage broke up), Andy is suddenly removed from the home and sent to Ironside in Melbourne. He's only fourteen, and Ironside is not just a "youth training centre", a place where unwanted boys wash up; it's also a remand centre. There are real criminals at Ironside, rapists and murderers, grown men with violent pasts.

At Ironside, the boys live in cells with barred windows, are locked in at night, served bad food and rub shoulders with criminals. It is at Ironside that Andy makes his first friend his own age. Clunky, as he's called, has only a grandfather left, and they're fighting the system to be allowed to live together - something made difficult by his grandfather's history of alcoholism. Later they're joined by a boy nicknamed Spinner, a charismatic but ugly youth who leads Andy astray but teaches him staunchness, and honesty and dignity. It is at Ironside that Andy endures the kind of psychological trauma no child should ever have to experience: watching a cellmate hang himself. It's clear that, while no one knows about the sexual abuse he experienced with Nigel, this faked suicide gone wrong never leads to any kind of therapy or counselling for Andy.

Andy's path begins its new downward trajectory when Spinner, after a Sunday let out of Ironside, convinces Andy and Clunky to abscond, just for the day he says. But several drug deals, drinks and stolen wallets later, Andy doesn't know where he is until he wakes up in a Ballarat police station, strung out and washed up, with Mez there to greet him.

Over the following years, the path repeats itself many times. Absconding, drugs, stolen cars, bad crowd, back in jail again. Every time, Mez is there to catch him and hold him up, but even she starts to despair that the cycle can ever be broken, that Andy could ever have the chance to be the man he could be.

I knew this would be heavy, going in, and I knew it would be heartbreaking. I expected I'd cry quite a lot, but actually it didn't turn me into an emotional mess. Mostly I felt anger, and despair, and empathy. It was a forging kind of read, a story that hardens the heart rather than makes it a soppy mess, and that's just what you need, because it leaves you with a clearer head. I have to warn you, though: this review gets a bit ranty, a bit soap-boxy - sure sign of exactly the kind of emotional and intellectual response Staunch generates in readers.

Oh Andy, poor Andy. Truly - and he is just one boy of hundreds - what he went through, what he experienced, how he ended up, all of it is preventable. This story is a true story, Andy was a real person as are all the other characters, and it is in part inspired by the Forgotten Australians Senate Report, which looked at the fate and experiences of wards between 1930 and 1970. In her afterword, Briggs puts her story into this broader context:

When you read Forgotten Australians, when you read the testimonies, a whole lot of it sounds awfully like the experiences of Andy and other later state wards. Sexual abuse at the hands of a carer; the absence of a proper education; lack of belief, or succour, or affection. Dealing and coping with the horror of childhood. Andy, like so many state wards before his time and after, languished in jail...

When I started this book ... I thought I'd come up with answers to these questions. I haven't. All I have is this: kids need love and family - of whatever stripe - to thrive and grow. Only adults can parent, and many aren't very good at it. But one thing is certain - the state can never parent. When all the kids are waiting at the school gates, no one wants to acknowledge the mother who is cumbersome, impersonal, bureaucratic, twelve storeys high and has a letterhead. [pp. 292-3]


From the very beginning, with the ease with which Victor got rid of him - and for no other reason than that he didn't like him, but bullied and tormented him while Dahlia simply fluttered her hand uselessly - to the sad fact that he never had a social worker, never had anyone talk to him, listen to him, find out anything about him (until Mez, who stepped out of her official role to do so); his file contained short reports on him, terse descriptions of his movements between centres, but nothing about working with him, no attempts were ever made to set him on a healthy, safe path toward adulthood. "No help." [p.160] The state failed him even worse than his adoptive parents did, than his horrible stepfather even.

The letter [Mez] hated most confirmed the end of his wardship. Andy had been done with the government since his fifteenth birthday.

Andrew is still adamant that he wants to be able to go his own way and is confident in being able to do so. Given the firmness and thought put into Andrew's comments, his request for Discharge of Wardship is supported.

Everything possible would seem to have been tried to assist and direct Andrew in the past five years, it is therefore time to try it his own way and allow him the opportunity to make his own plans and carry them through, with voluntary assistance if he chooses to seek it from the networks he knows so well.

It sounds like a shitty ex-girlfriend, thought Mez. Fine. Try it your way. No one had invited Mez to this meeting because she had no official role in Andy's life, despite the fact that she had supported him emotionally and sometimes financially for the past three years. They dumped him. As if he would have said anything else but that he wanted to try it his way. What good had their way done? Andrew had a Grade Six education because they hadn't helped him at school, and no family home because their placement families never stayed around. No family, because they adopted him out to a nutter; and no job, because they didn't give him an education. And no love.

The state was a shithouse parent. And then, she thought, some bastard will have the gall to blame him when he breaks into their bloody car. [pp.160-1]


Aside from the blatantly obvious fact that clearly no one actually cares about these kids - else they would watch over them better, make sure they didn't get taken advantage of by pedophiles like Nigel, or end up in what was essentially a jail when they'd done nothing wrong - the system seems set up to ensure these boys end up exactly where they end up. And then we, us "nice ordinary people" with loving families, an education, a roof over our heads and jobs, we look askance at these kids, these young men. We blame them, and then we dismiss them. All the stupid things they do, the mistakes they make: it's all their fault, we think, because we assume they have the same understanding of life that we do, have had the same childhood experiences and that it's merely a question of "turning their life around".

What gets me is that we know that children need safe, loving, supportive environments in which to thrive (and for sure, going in the extreme opposite direction doesn't help them much either), so who in their right mind thinks that the system set up for these defenceless, unwanted, vulnerable and often abused kids is a good idea? I would never ever want my own son to go anywhere near the places Andy was sent to live in, because I know how bad that would be for him. Briggs mentions that some changes have been made since Andy's time, and there's more of a focus on prevention - keeping them out of the ward system and with their families - but that, when that fails, once they're in the system nothing's changed.

Everything about Andy's story hurts. The picture of a little ten-year-old boy being taken away with no explanation, being divorced from his family, as shitty a family as it is, while his mother tells him he was "too naughty" and must seek forgiveness from God, oh that makes me so mad! And then, when I thought things couldn't get any worse after Nigel's predatory abuse of him - and young boys like Andy are prime targets, so desperate are they for a father figure, a role model, a friend - to see him end up in Ironside! What bloody stupid idiot thought putting young wards into the same place as criminals was a good idea?! These are kids with no role models of their own, no positive father figures, which makes them hugely susceptible not just to abuses but also to learning the "wrong", or destructive, kind of normalcy, the wrong kind of being. And if I can just point out the obvious: make these boys' "home" a jail, with its cement walls, barred windows, locked doors, regimented structure and strip-searches and rules, and it's not surprisingly that it becomes a kind of comfort zone for them. Getting sent to prison when they actually do something wrong isn't much of a punishment: it's their life story. It becomes normalised.

It is, of course, more than just the environment and lack of nurturing that shapes Andy and his friends. It's also the ready access to drugs, the lack of an education (he never finished grade 7), and the comradely community of cons and druggies and shifty types. It's the perfect combination for the creation of a shiftless young criminal stuck in a cycle of drugs, poor decisions, and incarceration.

'You'd hate me if you knew. You'd hate me if you knew what I have to do to survive in here.' He seemed to nod off for a bit. 'Victor was a cunt to me, wasn't he, Mez? I should go get him. When I get out. Need to get it out of my system. Beat the fuck out of him. How come Mum never came for me? No family for me. Feelin' sorry for meself, Mez,' he said decisively. 'I'm letting it get to me, in'I?' He started crying. 'Wasted time. All of me youth. Now I'm old and I'm all screwed-up. Don't want to be in here anymore, Mez.'
'I know, I know.' She'd never heard him talk so much.
'I'm just saying, Mez. I've been trying to stop it in my head. I don't have any blood, don't feel like there's blood in my body. Maybe that's why the drugs. That's why they don't even work no more. They work but... Hard to explain... That's why I get so out of it. Need drugs, sometimes, to stop thinking. I remember Victor beating me up all the time. I think about it all the time. Why didn't Mum stop him?' [p.185]


Brigg's novelisation of Andy's life is highly readable, nicely structured and well plotted. It's not told in straight chronological form, which would lack tension and drama, but organised in such a way that the story builds on our curiosity and empathy and creates more just when you think you know it all. It's not just Andy's story, it's Mez's story too, and it's the story of all those kids - not all of them wards of the state, some just made bad decisions or had bad relationships with their parents or just didn't care - who become druggies and lost causes. Through Andy's story, all of us who've never experienced what they had, who probably just think it's a matter of will power to not do drugs, or stop taking them, who can't understand why they keep making such stupid, stupid mistakes when following the rules of society and law seems so easy for us - all of us gain a clear understanding and an empathetic perspective of those like Andy. Not all of them are as sympathetic as Andy is, but then we don't learn the full stories of many of them.

Overall, it's simply tragic. It doesn't end well. It doesn't make you feel very positive about the situation. What this novel does do, very successfully, is give voice to these "forgotten Australians", these kids who never really had the quality of life that we consider every child to have the right to in our cosy, affluent country. Staunch humanises these wards of the state, sheds a light on their life and opens it up for understanding. And the importance of this shouldn't be underestimated: this book, books like Staunch, this is our education, this is our chance to gain some insight, because without it nothing will ever change, we will never demand change, and we will simply go on creating more juvenile criminals and druggies and "hooligans" that we can dismiss and blame and castigate without guilt or remorse or the slightest smidge of empathy. Staunch is a memorial to kids like Andy, and it is a very powerful, emotionally-intense, moving, thought-provoking one. It taught me plenty, and it should be required reading if we ever want to really consider ourselves to be enlightened thinkers and compassionate civilians. It would be a start, anyway.]]> 4.69 2012 Staunch: Ward of the State
author: Ginger Briggs
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.69
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/11/29
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: australian-women-writers, fiction, 2013, gritty-realism, aww2013, removed
review:
In 1984, when he was twelve years old, Andy was sent to Wakma Reception Centre in Ballarat because Wakma Reception Centre was the type of place kids like Andy got sent. It was the place you went if your dad left your mum high and dry, or put her in hospital for a spell, or they just couldn't afford you. Or if they hated you. You ended up there if the department deemed you 'at risk', or if you'd already risked everything and lost. Nobody stayed there long; it was like a vestibule, a doctor's waiting room. A place you fetched up in until something else came along.

It isn't the first place Andy has been sent to. When he was only ten, his weak-willed mother, Dahlia, allowed her new husband, pony-tailed Victor, to divorce him. He was only adopted, anyway. Unwanted, unloved, isolated, Andy ends up in a place where the young, slightly effeminate social worker, Nigel, took him under his wing. What began as fun weekends trail biking turned into weekends at Nigel's place where the young boys were introduced to cigarettes, drugs and booze - and where Andy was introduced to Nigel's sexual appetites.

Broken, haunted and completely alone, Andy washes up at Wakma after a foster family situation goes badly, and it's there he meets the first person to show him unconditional love. Mary, or "Mez" as she's called, is only twenty-two; a small woman who's endured her own awful experiences at the hands of selfish, entitled men. She is Andy's first real friend, and he easily slips into the practice of thinking of her as his mother. When she leaves for a year of travelling the world, like so many Australians, Andy is taken in by a new foster family, one with a son about his own age. Unfortunately, without explanation (though the truth was that the couple's marriage broke up), Andy is suddenly removed from the home and sent to Ironside in Melbourne. He's only fourteen, and Ironside is not just a "youth training centre", a place where unwanted boys wash up; it's also a remand centre. There are real criminals at Ironside, rapists and murderers, grown men with violent pasts.

At Ironside, the boys live in cells with barred windows, are locked in at night, served bad food and rub shoulders with criminals. It is at Ironside that Andy makes his first friend his own age. Clunky, as he's called, has only a grandfather left, and they're fighting the system to be allowed to live together - something made difficult by his grandfather's history of alcoholism. Later they're joined by a boy nicknamed Spinner, a charismatic but ugly youth who leads Andy astray but teaches him staunchness, and honesty and dignity. It is at Ironside that Andy endures the kind of psychological trauma no child should ever have to experience: watching a cellmate hang himself. It's clear that, while no one knows about the sexual abuse he experienced with Nigel, this faked suicide gone wrong never leads to any kind of therapy or counselling for Andy.

Andy's path begins its new downward trajectory when Spinner, after a Sunday let out of Ironside, convinces Andy and Clunky to abscond, just for the day he says. But several drug deals, drinks and stolen wallets later, Andy doesn't know where he is until he wakes up in a Ballarat police station, strung out and washed up, with Mez there to greet him.

Over the following years, the path repeats itself many times. Absconding, drugs, stolen cars, bad crowd, back in jail again. Every time, Mez is there to catch him and hold him up, but even she starts to despair that the cycle can ever be broken, that Andy could ever have the chance to be the man he could be.

I knew this would be heavy, going in, and I knew it would be heartbreaking. I expected I'd cry quite a lot, but actually it didn't turn me into an emotional mess. Mostly I felt anger, and despair, and empathy. It was a forging kind of read, a story that hardens the heart rather than makes it a soppy mess, and that's just what you need, because it leaves you with a clearer head. I have to warn you, though: this review gets a bit ranty, a bit soap-boxy - sure sign of exactly the kind of emotional and intellectual response Staunch generates in readers.

Oh Andy, poor Andy. Truly - and he is just one boy of hundreds - what he went through, what he experienced, how he ended up, all of it is preventable. This story is a true story, Andy was a real person as are all the other characters, and it is in part inspired by the Forgotten Australians Senate Report, which looked at the fate and experiences of wards between 1930 and 1970. In her afterword, Briggs puts her story into this broader context:

When you read Forgotten Australians, when you read the testimonies, a whole lot of it sounds awfully like the experiences of Andy and other later state wards. Sexual abuse at the hands of a carer; the absence of a proper education; lack of belief, or succour, or affection. Dealing and coping with the horror of childhood. Andy, like so many state wards before his time and after, languished in jail...

When I started this book ... I thought I'd come up with answers to these questions. I haven't. All I have is this: kids need love and family - of whatever stripe - to thrive and grow. Only adults can parent, and many aren't very good at it. But one thing is certain - the state can never parent. When all the kids are waiting at the school gates, no one wants to acknowledge the mother who is cumbersome, impersonal, bureaucratic, twelve storeys high and has a letterhead. [pp. 292-3]


From the very beginning, with the ease with which Victor got rid of him - and for no other reason than that he didn't like him, but bullied and tormented him while Dahlia simply fluttered her hand uselessly - to the sad fact that he never had a social worker, never had anyone talk to him, listen to him, find out anything about him (until Mez, who stepped out of her official role to do so); his file contained short reports on him, terse descriptions of his movements between centres, but nothing about working with him, no attempts were ever made to set him on a healthy, safe path toward adulthood. "No help." [p.160] The state failed him even worse than his adoptive parents did, than his horrible stepfather even.

The letter [Mez] hated most confirmed the end of his wardship. Andy had been done with the government since his fifteenth birthday.

Andrew is still adamant that he wants to be able to go his own way and is confident in being able to do so. Given the firmness and thought put into Andrew's comments, his request for Discharge of Wardship is supported.

Everything possible would seem to have been tried to assist and direct Andrew in the past five years, it is therefore time to try it his own way and allow him the opportunity to make his own plans and carry them through, with voluntary assistance if he chooses to seek it from the networks he knows so well.

It sounds like a shitty ex-girlfriend, thought Mez. Fine. Try it your way. No one had invited Mez to this meeting because she had no official role in Andy's life, despite the fact that she had supported him emotionally and sometimes financially for the past three years. They dumped him. As if he would have said anything else but that he wanted to try it his way. What good had their way done? Andrew had a Grade Six education because they hadn't helped him at school, and no family home because their placement families never stayed around. No family, because they adopted him out to a nutter; and no job, because they didn't give him an education. And no love.

The state was a shithouse parent. And then, she thought, some bastard will have the gall to blame him when he breaks into their bloody car. [pp.160-1]


Aside from the blatantly obvious fact that clearly no one actually cares about these kids - else they would watch over them better, make sure they didn't get taken advantage of by pedophiles like Nigel, or end up in what was essentially a jail when they'd done nothing wrong - the system seems set up to ensure these boys end up exactly where they end up. And then we, us "nice ordinary people" with loving families, an education, a roof over our heads and jobs, we look askance at these kids, these young men. We blame them, and then we dismiss them. All the stupid things they do, the mistakes they make: it's all their fault, we think, because we assume they have the same understanding of life that we do, have had the same childhood experiences and that it's merely a question of "turning their life around".

What gets me is that we know that children need safe, loving, supportive environments in which to thrive (and for sure, going in the extreme opposite direction doesn't help them much either), so who in their right mind thinks that the system set up for these defenceless, unwanted, vulnerable and often abused kids is a good idea? I would never ever want my own son to go anywhere near the places Andy was sent to live in, because I know how bad that would be for him. Briggs mentions that some changes have been made since Andy's time, and there's more of a focus on prevention - keeping them out of the ward system and with their families - but that, when that fails, once they're in the system nothing's changed.

Everything about Andy's story hurts. The picture of a little ten-year-old boy being taken away with no explanation, being divorced from his family, as shitty a family as it is, while his mother tells him he was "too naughty" and must seek forgiveness from God, oh that makes me so mad! And then, when I thought things couldn't get any worse after Nigel's predatory abuse of him - and young boys like Andy are prime targets, so desperate are they for a father figure, a role model, a friend - to see him end up in Ironside! What bloody stupid idiot thought putting young wards into the same place as criminals was a good idea?! These are kids with no role models of their own, no positive father figures, which makes them hugely susceptible not just to abuses but also to learning the "wrong", or destructive, kind of normalcy, the wrong kind of being. And if I can just point out the obvious: make these boys' "home" a jail, with its cement walls, barred windows, locked doors, regimented structure and strip-searches and rules, and it's not surprisingly that it becomes a kind of comfort zone for them. Getting sent to prison when they actually do something wrong isn't much of a punishment: it's their life story. It becomes normalised.

It is, of course, more than just the environment and lack of nurturing that shapes Andy and his friends. It's also the ready access to drugs, the lack of an education (he never finished grade 7), and the comradely community of cons and druggies and shifty types. It's the perfect combination for the creation of a shiftless young criminal stuck in a cycle of drugs, poor decisions, and incarceration.

'You'd hate me if you knew. You'd hate me if you knew what I have to do to survive in here.' He seemed to nod off for a bit. 'Victor was a cunt to me, wasn't he, Mez? I should go get him. When I get out. Need to get it out of my system. Beat the fuck out of him. How come Mum never came for me? No family for me. Feelin' sorry for meself, Mez,' he said decisively. 'I'm letting it get to me, in'I?' He started crying. 'Wasted time. All of me youth. Now I'm old and I'm all screwed-up. Don't want to be in here anymore, Mez.'
'I know, I know.' She'd never heard him talk so much.
'I'm just saying, Mez. I've been trying to stop it in my head. I don't have any blood, don't feel like there's blood in my body. Maybe that's why the drugs. That's why they don't even work no more. They work but... Hard to explain... That's why I get so out of it. Need drugs, sometimes, to stop thinking. I remember Victor beating me up all the time. I think about it all the time. Why didn't Mum stop him?' [p.185]


Brigg's novelisation of Andy's life is highly readable, nicely structured and well plotted. It's not told in straight chronological form, which would lack tension and drama, but organised in such a way that the story builds on our curiosity and empathy and creates more just when you think you know it all. It's not just Andy's story, it's Mez's story too, and it's the story of all those kids - not all of them wards of the state, some just made bad decisions or had bad relationships with their parents or just didn't care - who become druggies and lost causes. Through Andy's story, all of us who've never experienced what they had, who probably just think it's a matter of will power to not do drugs, or stop taking them, who can't understand why they keep making such stupid, stupid mistakes when following the rules of society and law seems so easy for us - all of us gain a clear understanding and an empathetic perspective of those like Andy. Not all of them are as sympathetic as Andy is, but then we don't learn the full stories of many of them.

Overall, it's simply tragic. It doesn't end well. It doesn't make you feel very positive about the situation. What this novel does do, very successfully, is give voice to these "forgotten Australians", these kids who never really had the quality of life that we consider every child to have the right to in our cosy, affluent country. Staunch humanises these wards of the state, sheds a light on their life and opens it up for understanding. And the importance of this shouldn't be underestimated: this book, books like Staunch, this is our education, this is our chance to gain some insight, because without it nothing will ever change, we will never demand change, and we will simply go on creating more juvenile criminals and druggies and "hooligans" that we can dismiss and blame and castigate without guilt or remorse or the slightest smidge of empathy. Staunch is a memorial to kids like Andy, and it is a very powerful, emotionally-intense, moving, thought-provoking one. It taught me plenty, and it should be required reading if we ever want to really consider ourselves to be enlightened thinkers and compassionate civilians. It would be a start, anyway.
]]> Sweet Nothings 15985387 Life’s sweetest moments happen when you least expect them . . .

When Ruby McMillan’s husband announces one morning that he’s dumping her for another woman, she’s unable to decide which indignity stings the most: the dissolution of their eighteen-year marriage or the deflation of her white-chocolate soufflé with raspberry Grand Marnier sauce. Without a good-bye to their two teenaged children, Walter leaves Ruby to cope with her ruined dessert, an unpaid mortgage, and her failing bakery.

With only royal icing holding her together, Ruby still manages to pick herself up and move on, subsidizing her income with an extra job as a baking instructor, getting a "�my-husband’s-gone” makeover, and even flirting with her gorgeous mortgage broker, Jacob Salt. For as long as she can remember, Ruby has done what’s practical, eschewing far-fetched dreams and true love in favor of stability. But suddenly single again at the age of forty-four, she’s beginning to discover that life is most delicious when you stop following a recipe and just live.]]> 386 Janis Thomas 0425264823 Shannon 4 Cheryl, a work colleague who's also in her forties.

Yet, worse is to come. Ruby can handle the fact that all the women she knows in the small town community of Pelican Point, California, are now snubbing her - because while Walter dumped her on Facebook, everyone else is reading his messages of finding new love on board Cheryl's yacht - and the financial woes of her cake shop are nothing new. But when she meets her new mortgage broker, handsome divorcé Jacob Salt, she learns that Walter hadn't paid the mortgage on the house, that he's planning to declare bankruptcy, and that the house is scheduled for foreclose, making her and her children homeless.

Ruby has a couple of options remaining: she can fall apart and let life unfold as it will, or she can put up a fight and climb her way out of this mess. She has an inheritance tucked away that she had planned on surprising Walter with one day, with a trip to some exotic locale, but now she dips into it to save her house and give herself a few months' breathing room. Her business partner and best friend, Izzy, has a couple of money making ideas that could save the bakery, including taking on a cooking class for the local community college and even going on the TV show Cake-Off! where top cake decorators have eight hours to assemble and decorate huge fancy cakes. Ruby at first baulks at both ideas, due to the simple fact that she is rendered useless by a spotlight - useless and incontinent. But they start small and the cooking class goes well.

And Jacob Salt, who seemed to stiff and formal at first but who gradually unwinds as Ruby gets to know him better, seems to have her corner, ensuring that she is the one who will make the big fancy cake for his company's 50th anniversary celebration. More than that, Jacob does things to Ruby that she's never experienced before. She's always been calmly rational, pragmatic, practical, the kind of woman who wanted a simple, safe life, no fireworks, had never felt regret at not getting into the kind of passionate, explosive and ultimately doomed relationships that her friends had. Her time apart from Walter and her growing feelings for Jacob give her the time and clues she needs to really examine the life she's led, the decisions she's made, and in the end give her both the strength and the self-awareness to make one very important decision.

Sweet Nothings was a real pleasure to read. It's chick-lit, but not as humorous as the British kind; it was also a surprise for having some steamy kisses and a sex-scene, which you don't normally get in chick-lit. But this is the story of Ruby's belated coming-of-age, a heady, messy time of figuring herself out, keeping her family (her and her kids) together and saving her business without compromising her sense of integrity. A detailed sex scene gives you that deeper window into a character's psyche, which makes Ruby someone you really get to know and understand, sympathise with and care for, much more so than I would normally feel about a chick-lit heroine.

I loved the focus on food. Each chapter bears a food-related title, connected to what's going to happen next, and Ruby has this rather fun habit of thinking of people in terms of dessert. Walter "always seemed like shortbread to me. A simple cookie. A reliable cookie. Ordinary yet hardy. Made from three universally loved ingredients. The kind of cookie you can bring to any occasion and everyone will eat one and like it, although they probably won't remark upon it later, because it's not a triple fudge brownie. I realize this comparison might sound unflattering, but honestly, I love shortbread." [p.13] And really, her descriptions - the way she breaks the food down to its base elements, the way she connects the different layers or parts or texture of a food to a person's character - it really is quite ingenious and hugely entertaining.

I've always loved making cakes. And biscuits and slices. I still have just as many flops as I have successes, but I love the process of making something, and the satisfying feeling of producing something. It's a feeling that's sorely lacking in our world and society these days, with our stationary desk jobs and our paper-pushing, sign-here, file-this jobs. No wonder we get so depressed, by and large. And angry. But make something, from scratch, now there's a good feeling. I loved the descriptions of Ruby's food, her food experiments (which she calls "stressipes" as she comes up with unusual ingredient combinations when under stress, many of which don't work out), and her cake decorating. And having the story end with a Cake-Off! episode, that was a brilliant ending. Cake-Off!, which airs on the Food Network in the book, is modelled on , a TV show that airs on TLC (a channel I always thought stood for "tender loving care" - especially as they show those kinds of heartfelt, weepy reality TV show - but which actually stands for "The Learning Channel", of all things!). I have actually watched a few episodes of this show - in general I absolutely hate the prevalence of food/cooking competition "reality" TV shows that are pretty much the only food-related programming on these days - you don't learn a thing about how to cook, the only thing you learn, consciously or sub-consciously, is that cooking is really stressful and people are just going to criticise you no matter what you make or how much effort you put into it. The Ultimate Cake Off is much as it's described in the book: teams of people who in real life run small businesses of cake decorating etc., have 9 hours to assemble and decorate massive cakes for special occasions. The time limit, the judges and the cameras clamouring for drama and disaster make for one very stressful competition, but what makes me watch it is my fascination for seeing what they create, and my interest in how they make it. Not that you learn all that much, but still.

Thomas doesn't take any short-cuts with her story of Ruby: Ruby is a very real woman who feels very human and who you really come to care about. The way events play out had good flow, and only a few minor things felt a bit contrived, or a bit too silly. I have trouble understanding why people would shun a woman whose husband had left her - that I don't get, and I don't know how realistic it is. I also struggle with the concept of calling someone who makes cakes for a living, a "baker". To me, a baker is someone who makes bread. They get up every day at 4 and bake loaves of bread and other yummy things, then crawl back into bed for some sleep until they have to get up and do it all over again. And a bakery is a shop that sells, primarily, bread. If a shop doesn't sell bread, it's a cake shop, or a cafe, or a patisserie (to use the "correct" French word). I've seen professional cake makers called Confectionary Chef or pastry chef or even just cake decorator. I'm not saying it's incorrect to call someone who makes cakes a baker, it just doesn't sound correct to me because of how I learned the word "baker". Just one of those things.

This is a simple story about a simple woman trying to sort her life out, rediscover herself and her own long-dormant passions, and follow her slowly-waking heart; but like all such stories, it is deceptively simple because it's such a human story, familiar not for the situation as such but because it's about love, life, the home, family and making things work, the struggle to overcome obstacles and difficulties, and all these themes are ones we live with every day. Accompanying Ruby on her own personal journey through all this was both touching and entertaining, and a fair reminder that it's never too late for love, or for following your dreams - and excelling at them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 3.84 2013 Sweet Nothings
author: Janis Thomas
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.84
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/03
date added: 2024/03/09
shelves: fiction, 2013, chick-lit, removed
review:
Ruby McMillan's pleasant life comes to a stinging halt one Saturday morning when her husband Walter announces that he's leaving her. Ruby is stunned, humiliated and outraged. Not only does Walter abruptly tell her he's unhappy when she thought they were doing fine (though to be honest, she admits she never really thinks about it much), but he doesn't even tell his two children, sixteen year old Colleen and fourteen year old Kevin, leaving Ruby to handle the whole thing. But the worst thing about it, as far as Ruby can tell at this early stage, is that he's not even leaving her for a much younger, prettier woman with perky boobs. No, Walter is leaving her for Cheryl, a work colleague who's also in her forties.

Yet, worse is to come. Ruby can handle the fact that all the women she knows in the small town community of Pelican Point, California, are now snubbing her - because while Walter dumped her on Facebook, everyone else is reading his messages of finding new love on board Cheryl's yacht - and the financial woes of her cake shop are nothing new. But when she meets her new mortgage broker, handsome divorcé Jacob Salt, she learns that Walter hadn't paid the mortgage on the house, that he's planning to declare bankruptcy, and that the house is scheduled for foreclose, making her and her children homeless.

Ruby has a couple of options remaining: she can fall apart and let life unfold as it will, or she can put up a fight and climb her way out of this mess. She has an inheritance tucked away that she had planned on surprising Walter with one day, with a trip to some exotic locale, but now she dips into it to save her house and give herself a few months' breathing room. Her business partner and best friend, Izzy, has a couple of money making ideas that could save the bakery, including taking on a cooking class for the local community college and even going on the TV show Cake-Off! where top cake decorators have eight hours to assemble and decorate huge fancy cakes. Ruby at first baulks at both ideas, due to the simple fact that she is rendered useless by a spotlight - useless and incontinent. But they start small and the cooking class goes well.

And Jacob Salt, who seemed to stiff and formal at first but who gradually unwinds as Ruby gets to know him better, seems to have her corner, ensuring that she is the one who will make the big fancy cake for his company's 50th anniversary celebration. More than that, Jacob does things to Ruby that she's never experienced before. She's always been calmly rational, pragmatic, practical, the kind of woman who wanted a simple, safe life, no fireworks, had never felt regret at not getting into the kind of passionate, explosive and ultimately doomed relationships that her friends had. Her time apart from Walter and her growing feelings for Jacob give her the time and clues she needs to really examine the life she's led, the decisions she's made, and in the end give her both the strength and the self-awareness to make one very important decision.

Sweet Nothings was a real pleasure to read. It's chick-lit, but not as humorous as the British kind; it was also a surprise for having some steamy kisses and a sex-scene, which you don't normally get in chick-lit. But this is the story of Ruby's belated coming-of-age, a heady, messy time of figuring herself out, keeping her family (her and her kids) together and saving her business without compromising her sense of integrity. A detailed sex scene gives you that deeper window into a character's psyche, which makes Ruby someone you really get to know and understand, sympathise with and care for, much more so than I would normally feel about a chick-lit heroine.

I loved the focus on food. Each chapter bears a food-related title, connected to what's going to happen next, and Ruby has this rather fun habit of thinking of people in terms of dessert. Walter "always seemed like shortbread to me. A simple cookie. A reliable cookie. Ordinary yet hardy. Made from three universally loved ingredients. The kind of cookie you can bring to any occasion and everyone will eat one and like it, although they probably won't remark upon it later, because it's not a triple fudge brownie. I realize this comparison might sound unflattering, but honestly, I love shortbread." [p.13] And really, her descriptions - the way she breaks the food down to its base elements, the way she connects the different layers or parts or texture of a food to a person's character - it really is quite ingenious and hugely entertaining.

I've always loved making cakes. And biscuits and slices. I still have just as many flops as I have successes, but I love the process of making something, and the satisfying feeling of producing something. It's a feeling that's sorely lacking in our world and society these days, with our stationary desk jobs and our paper-pushing, sign-here, file-this jobs. No wonder we get so depressed, by and large. And angry. But make something, from scratch, now there's a good feeling. I loved the descriptions of Ruby's food, her food experiments (which she calls "stressipes" as she comes up with unusual ingredient combinations when under stress, many of which don't work out), and her cake decorating. And having the story end with a Cake-Off! episode, that was a brilliant ending. Cake-Off!, which airs on the Food Network in the book, is modelled on , a TV show that airs on TLC (a channel I always thought stood for "tender loving care" - especially as they show those kinds of heartfelt, weepy reality TV show - but which actually stands for "The Learning Channel", of all things!). I have actually watched a few episodes of this show - in general I absolutely hate the prevalence of food/cooking competition "reality" TV shows that are pretty much the only food-related programming on these days - you don't learn a thing about how to cook, the only thing you learn, consciously or sub-consciously, is that cooking is really stressful and people are just going to criticise you no matter what you make or how much effort you put into it. The Ultimate Cake Off is much as it's described in the book: teams of people who in real life run small businesses of cake decorating etc., have 9 hours to assemble and decorate massive cakes for special occasions. The time limit, the judges and the cameras clamouring for drama and disaster make for one very stressful competition, but what makes me watch it is my fascination for seeing what they create, and my interest in how they make it. Not that you learn all that much, but still.

Thomas doesn't take any short-cuts with her story of Ruby: Ruby is a very real woman who feels very human and who you really come to care about. The way events play out had good flow, and only a few minor things felt a bit contrived, or a bit too silly. I have trouble understanding why people would shun a woman whose husband had left her - that I don't get, and I don't know how realistic it is. I also struggle with the concept of calling someone who makes cakes for a living, a "baker". To me, a baker is someone who makes bread. They get up every day at 4 and bake loaves of bread and other yummy things, then crawl back into bed for some sleep until they have to get up and do it all over again. And a bakery is a shop that sells, primarily, bread. If a shop doesn't sell bread, it's a cake shop, or a cafe, or a patisserie (to use the "correct" French word). I've seen professional cake makers called Confectionary Chef or pastry chef or even just cake decorator. I'm not saying it's incorrect to call someone who makes cakes a baker, it just doesn't sound correct to me because of how I learned the word "baker". Just one of those things.

This is a simple story about a simple woman trying to sort her life out, rediscover herself and her own long-dormant passions, and follow her slowly-waking heart; but like all such stories, it is deceptively simple because it's such a human story, familiar not for the situation as such but because it's about love, life, the home, family and making things work, the struggle to overcome obstacles and difficulties, and all these themes are ones we live with every day. Accompanying Ruby on her own personal journey through all this was both touching and entertaining, and a fair reminder that it's never too late for love, or for following your dreams - and excelling at them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> Taken (Give & Take, #1) 15980949
He steals her away to a deserted island, to the one place she's dreamed of being-the one place she can't go. He's used to buying whatever he wants, but he can't buy her.

SEDUCTION

How can she resist the magnetism of his body, the longing ache deep inside her? She wants him to take her-on her terms.

DESPERATION

Every attempt he makes to love her only hurts her. How can they go on like this? This is the story of how she was . . .

TAKEN]]> 256 Kelli Maine 145559895X Shannon 2 2013, romance, removed
While at a nightclub with her best friend and flatmate, Shannon, she accepts a drink from a tall, deliciously handsome man - and wakes up in an unknown location, tied to a bed. At first, it seems pretty clear that she hasn't just been abducted, she may have been - and could be, soon - molested or even raped. What else is she to think? The truth is even more staggering: the beautiful, intelligent and absolutely sexy CEO of Rocha Enterprises and real estate mogul, Merrick Rocha, has abducted her and brought her to Turtle Tear Island. Clearly, a man who doesn't take No for an answer.

As Rachael gets to know Merrick more, while exploring the island with him, she learns several things about him. He's something of a tortured soul, and mostly estranged from his family. He's not good at thinking things through, having become used to people giving him what he wants. He thinks Rachael belongs on Turtle Tear Island, and he does realise that his method of bringing her there has damaged, perhaps irreparably, any trust there could be between them. And, most agonising of all, he desires her as much as she desires him. The sexual chemistry and tension between them is staggering, but Rachael can't and won't give herself to a man who drugged and abducted her. Not only that, but Rachael has never been someone who opens herself up to rejection - as she puts it, she's a successful overachiever because she doesn't take risks.

Spending time alone with Merrick on what feels like a deserted island is definitely a mellowing experience, and after being reassured that no one's looking for her because Merrick "took care of it", Rachael lets herself be swayed into taking on the project management role when the construction crew arrive - and Merrick's beautiful blonde assistant, Joan, who so clearly idolises Merrick and will do anything for him. When Merrick crosses a major line with Rachael it's the last straw, and Rachael leaves both the island and a devastated Merrick behind. But both the island and the man have got under Rachael's skin, and moving on with her life just doesn't seem possible. But how can she move past the things Merrick's done to her?

I came across this book rather randomly, but after the reading the blurb I couldn't resist getting it. Mostly, because it sounded like a trainwreck. It didn't really make sense to me, for the most part, though it does once you've read it. But it was the idea of turning an abduction story into a romance that had me curious, in a gross-fascination kind of way, because to my mind there isn't anything romantic about it. Interestingly enough, I quite liked the story, but there were other elements to it that were lacking and ultimately made it an unsatisfying story.

Rachael isn't a bad romantic heroine - she's fairly believable, in her reactions, and is tormented by her sexual attraction to a man she doesn't trust, who took away her control and made her utterly vulnerable. But she does listen, and this is a good quality to have in a heroine - they don't always have that ability. She listens not only to Merrick's words but also his body language, and what he doesn't say, and learns a lot. This all happens quite smoothly, which aids in believability - the obstacle a story like this is always going to have. Still, I never got over my unease that she could be attracted to a man based on his looks alone, despite what he's done to her. I just don't think women work that way, psychologically - and hormonally - speaking. If you are angry with someone and afraid of them, if you have no trust in them, you really can't also lust after them. That was a real sticking point for me. It speaks badly of Rachael's character, no matter her resistance at the start.

Merrick came across as a bit of a lost little boy - and when he didn't seem lost, he was an over-eager little boy. I guess making him a sweet, "innocent" and therefore harmless man is the author's only way of redeeming him for what he did to Rachael, but it didn't really work - also, it just made him come across as a bit pathetic and clingy. Very very clingy. He's worked hard to turn a modest property investment inherited from his grandfather into a massive national real estate company worth billions, but he's so out-of-touch and has almost childlike ideas for pleasing other people that doesn't take their feelings into consideration. There's quite a bit of emphasis on Merrick wanting Rachael to teach him, and honestly, his need for a woman to guide him should have been the main thing that made Rachael run screaming to the hills. No woman wants to be cast in the role of mother to her partner. Merrick's not completely useless though, he is considerate and loving and caring, and he's no alpha male who wants to dominate and protect her. He's more simple than that. I can't say I ever really understood him, and his explanation for his plans for Turtle Tear Island and his company (which involves a legal battle with his father) made zero sense to me.

The biggest hurdle for me, and one that I couldn't overcome no matter how hard I tried, was how this novel was written. Rachael is a first-person narrator, but she shares her story in second-person present tense. That means that Merrick is never "he", he is always "you". On the one hand, I can see what Maine was trying to do, and I could even say she mostly succeeded. It puts us right in Rachael's head, and we see Merrick only through her eyes - this is always the case with first person voice, of course, but using second person intensifies this. It heightens the fact that they are two people alone on an island together, and makes Merrick a larger-than-life figure. He dominates her perception, her vision, her thoughts. It also positions them like they are going to battle, I vs. You. And it also gives the story the tone of a diary entry or a letter, or an inner monologue addressed solely to Merrick.

On your feet, you lean your elbows on the railing. Both hands run over your head, fingers gripping and sliding through your hair in frustration. "If I could go back to that night, I'd leave you alone and find a way to forget you. Nobody has ever distrusted me like you do. It's eating away at me. I can't fix it. I can't make you forget. You'll always think of me as the monster who abducted you."
I swallow hard against the sob gathering in my throat. "You're not a monster."
You let out an indignant snort and pound your fists against the railing. "I'll take you home."
Your words are a slap to my conscience. Panic digs its fingernails into my spine. I'm on my feet and standing behind you in an instant. "No."
You turn to me, your face a cocktail of guilt, surprise and reluctance. "I'll take you home, Rachael. You don't want to stay here with me." [...]
I dive to me knees beside you, pulling your hands out of the basket so I can take them in mine. But you nudge me away from you. "I wanted you Rachael, and not as an employee." You grab the olives, sending them rolling over the blanket and deck. "You're right, I don't think. I act. I do whatever I need to, to get what I want. I fuck everything up - all the time. We were fucked before we had a chance to even begin." You reach in the basket, come out with a handful of chocolate cake and throw it against the side of the tree house. "Fuck." [pp. 107-8]


[Best display of emotional manipulation in this book: you're in the wrong, but you make the other person feel sorry for you by acting like this. The mix of acknowledging his wrongs and faults, insisting she be the one to initiate anything sexual between them, and the way he completely violated her - not sexually, but in every other way - makes for an uncomfortable read, when you're trying to balance sheer romance and an intriguing psychological dilemma with that inner instinct that's screaming "Wrong! It's all wrong!"]

The problem lies with the reader. When you read this, and you keep reading "you" all the time, of course it feels like she's talking to you, you-the-reader. And since I'm a woman, it is very disconcerting to be put into the shoes of a man, a billionaire, a walking penis, and a stalker and abductor. I really, really didn't like being in that place. At times my brain switched "you" to "him" or "he", but it doesn't work grammatically because the latter means verbs are pluralised, whereas "you" doesn't go with plurals. It was all very alienating, distracting and confusing.

On the up side, this is a very short book and a very quick read, though sprinkled liberally with typos (from its self-published days). There is a follow-up novella but I don't have much interest in reading it. The characters weren't ones I could readily identify with, and the scenario just didn't sit well with me. There were times when I enjoyed it, or certain scenes, especially the playful ones, but between the problems I had with the characters and the plot, and the use of second person (which I hope doesn't generate a new fad for using it, because I'm already sick to death of present tense!), this book wasn't very successful and failed to convince me that you can have a real, trusting, equal relationship with a man who once abducted you.]]> 3.34 2012 Taken (Give & Take, #1)
author: Kelli Maine
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.34
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/01/19
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: 2013, romance, removed
review:
Rachael DeSalvo is so close to nailing her dream job as project manager for the renovation of historical Turtle Tear Hotel on Turtle Tear Island, in the Everglades of Florida. She's sure she's impressed the CEO of Rocha Enterprises, which bought the island, during her final interview. And when she's offered the job, she's ecstatic. So when she has to turn it down because she can't leave her overbearing, widowed mother - who's never been alone - it's the end of her dream. Or so she thinks.

While at a nightclub with her best friend and flatmate, Shannon, she accepts a drink from a tall, deliciously handsome man - and wakes up in an unknown location, tied to a bed. At first, it seems pretty clear that she hasn't just been abducted, she may have been - and could be, soon - molested or even raped. What else is she to think? The truth is even more staggering: the beautiful, intelligent and absolutely sexy CEO of Rocha Enterprises and real estate mogul, Merrick Rocha, has abducted her and brought her to Turtle Tear Island. Clearly, a man who doesn't take No for an answer.

As Rachael gets to know Merrick more, while exploring the island with him, she learns several things about him. He's something of a tortured soul, and mostly estranged from his family. He's not good at thinking things through, having become used to people giving him what he wants. He thinks Rachael belongs on Turtle Tear Island, and he does realise that his method of bringing her there has damaged, perhaps irreparably, any trust there could be between them. And, most agonising of all, he desires her as much as she desires him. The sexual chemistry and tension between them is staggering, but Rachael can't and won't give herself to a man who drugged and abducted her. Not only that, but Rachael has never been someone who opens herself up to rejection - as she puts it, she's a successful overachiever because she doesn't take risks.

Spending time alone with Merrick on what feels like a deserted island is definitely a mellowing experience, and after being reassured that no one's looking for her because Merrick "took care of it", Rachael lets herself be swayed into taking on the project management role when the construction crew arrive - and Merrick's beautiful blonde assistant, Joan, who so clearly idolises Merrick and will do anything for him. When Merrick crosses a major line with Rachael it's the last straw, and Rachael leaves both the island and a devastated Merrick behind. But both the island and the man have got under Rachael's skin, and moving on with her life just doesn't seem possible. But how can she move past the things Merrick's done to her?

I came across this book rather randomly, but after the reading the blurb I couldn't resist getting it. Mostly, because it sounded like a trainwreck. It didn't really make sense to me, for the most part, though it does once you've read it. But it was the idea of turning an abduction story into a romance that had me curious, in a gross-fascination kind of way, because to my mind there isn't anything romantic about it. Interestingly enough, I quite liked the story, but there were other elements to it that were lacking and ultimately made it an unsatisfying story.

Rachael isn't a bad romantic heroine - she's fairly believable, in her reactions, and is tormented by her sexual attraction to a man she doesn't trust, who took away her control and made her utterly vulnerable. But she does listen, and this is a good quality to have in a heroine - they don't always have that ability. She listens not only to Merrick's words but also his body language, and what he doesn't say, and learns a lot. This all happens quite smoothly, which aids in believability - the obstacle a story like this is always going to have. Still, I never got over my unease that she could be attracted to a man based on his looks alone, despite what he's done to her. I just don't think women work that way, psychologically - and hormonally - speaking. If you are angry with someone and afraid of them, if you have no trust in them, you really can't also lust after them. That was a real sticking point for me. It speaks badly of Rachael's character, no matter her resistance at the start.

Merrick came across as a bit of a lost little boy - and when he didn't seem lost, he was an over-eager little boy. I guess making him a sweet, "innocent" and therefore harmless man is the author's only way of redeeming him for what he did to Rachael, but it didn't really work - also, it just made him come across as a bit pathetic and clingy. Very very clingy. He's worked hard to turn a modest property investment inherited from his grandfather into a massive national real estate company worth billions, but he's so out-of-touch and has almost childlike ideas for pleasing other people that doesn't take their feelings into consideration. There's quite a bit of emphasis on Merrick wanting Rachael to teach him, and honestly, his need for a woman to guide him should have been the main thing that made Rachael run screaming to the hills. No woman wants to be cast in the role of mother to her partner. Merrick's not completely useless though, he is considerate and loving and caring, and he's no alpha male who wants to dominate and protect her. He's more simple than that. I can't say I ever really understood him, and his explanation for his plans for Turtle Tear Island and his company (which involves a legal battle with his father) made zero sense to me.

The biggest hurdle for me, and one that I couldn't overcome no matter how hard I tried, was how this novel was written. Rachael is a first-person narrator, but she shares her story in second-person present tense. That means that Merrick is never "he", he is always "you". On the one hand, I can see what Maine was trying to do, and I could even say she mostly succeeded. It puts us right in Rachael's head, and we see Merrick only through her eyes - this is always the case with first person voice, of course, but using second person intensifies this. It heightens the fact that they are two people alone on an island together, and makes Merrick a larger-than-life figure. He dominates her perception, her vision, her thoughts. It also positions them like they are going to battle, I vs. You. And it also gives the story the tone of a diary entry or a letter, or an inner monologue addressed solely to Merrick.

On your feet, you lean your elbows on the railing. Both hands run over your head, fingers gripping and sliding through your hair in frustration. "If I could go back to that night, I'd leave you alone and find a way to forget you. Nobody has ever distrusted me like you do. It's eating away at me. I can't fix it. I can't make you forget. You'll always think of me as the monster who abducted you."
I swallow hard against the sob gathering in my throat. "You're not a monster."
You let out an indignant snort and pound your fists against the railing. "I'll take you home."
Your words are a slap to my conscience. Panic digs its fingernails into my spine. I'm on my feet and standing behind you in an instant. "No."
You turn to me, your face a cocktail of guilt, surprise and reluctance. "I'll take you home, Rachael. You don't want to stay here with me." [...]
I dive to me knees beside you, pulling your hands out of the basket so I can take them in mine. But you nudge me away from you. "I wanted you Rachael, and not as an employee." You grab the olives, sending them rolling over the blanket and deck. "You're right, I don't think. I act. I do whatever I need to, to get what I want. I fuck everything up - all the time. We were fucked before we had a chance to even begin." You reach in the basket, come out with a handful of chocolate cake and throw it against the side of the tree house. "Fuck." [pp. 107-8]


[Best display of emotional manipulation in this book: you're in the wrong, but you make the other person feel sorry for you by acting like this. The mix of acknowledging his wrongs and faults, insisting she be the one to initiate anything sexual between them, and the way he completely violated her - not sexually, but in every other way - makes for an uncomfortable read, when you're trying to balance sheer romance and an intriguing psychological dilemma with that inner instinct that's screaming "Wrong! It's all wrong!"]

The problem lies with the reader. When you read this, and you keep reading "you" all the time, of course it feels like she's talking to you, you-the-reader. And since I'm a woman, it is very disconcerting to be put into the shoes of a man, a billionaire, a walking penis, and a stalker and abductor. I really, really didn't like being in that place. At times my brain switched "you" to "him" or "he", but it doesn't work grammatically because the latter means verbs are pluralised, whereas "you" doesn't go with plurals. It was all very alienating, distracting and confusing.

On the up side, this is a very short book and a very quick read, though sprinkled liberally with typos (from its self-published days). There is a follow-up novella but I don't have much interest in reading it. The characters weren't ones I could readily identify with, and the scenario just didn't sit well with me. There were times when I enjoyed it, or certain scenes, especially the playful ones, but between the problems I had with the characters and the plot, and the use of second person (which I hope doesn't generate a new fad for using it, because I'm already sick to death of present tense!), this book wasn't very successful and failed to convince me that you can have a real, trusting, equal relationship with a man who once abducted you.
]]> <![CDATA[Diary of a Submissive: A Modern True Tale of Sexual Awakening]]> 15922996
In the wake of Fifty Shades of Grey, here is a memoir that offers the real story of what it means to be a submissive. From the endorphin rush of her first spanking right through to punishments the likes of which she couldn't begin to imagine, she explains in frank and explicit fashion the road she travels. But it isn't until she meets James that her boundaries are really pushed. As her relationship with him travels into darker and darker places the question becomes: where will it end? Can she reconcile her sexuality with the rest of her life and is it possible for the perfect man to also be perfectly cruel?

Racy, controversial, but always warm, fun and astoundingly honest this is a fascinating and thought provoking look at a seemingly paradoxical side to human nature and sexuality that no man or woman will be able to put down.]]> 314 Sophie Morgan 1405910631 Shannon 2
This work is marketed as a memoir, but having read it, I am unconvinced. From very early on in the book, I started reading it as pure fiction. Perhaps the author did base it on certain experiences she had, but she hasn't written it as a convincing memoir, certainly not as a "diary". In fact, due to the tone it's written in, her attitude, and the way the story plays out, it reads more like kinky chick-lit than erotica, and as such, it was extremely unsatisfying, very disappointing, and often annoying.

I've had this on my shelf since it came out in 2012, and finally got around to reading it recently because I wanted a comparison in mind when I read another so-called erotic memoir, The Secret Life of a Submissive by Sarah K. Both are British, both are written in a breezy, sometimes humorous style that is so reminiscent of British chick-lit, but the latter was rather more believable in terms of realism, and a more satisfying story. But let's talk about The Diary of a Submissive.

The first thing that I noticed that ruined the realism was the simple fact that one minutes Sophie has a brother, the next it's suddenly a sister (page 15 of my edition). Later, the sister reverts back to a brother and remains one for the rest of the book. This is a minor character - in fact, we never "meet" any members of her family - but it was a glaring error in the early sections when she's describing her family and her relationship to them. And no, she doesn't have a brother and a sister, just one sibling. If you were writing your memoir, would you have trouble remembering whether your sibling was male or female? No I didn't think so. (In other editions of this book the names of the men are different - Russell instead of Thomas, Josh instead of James, and of course it's to be expected that she would change people's names. But changing your brother to a sister and then deciding no, it worked better as a brother but forgetting to fix all the edits? That's not the same thing. That's just making it up and being sloppy.)

The other elements that just made the whole thing rather laughable was a) the ease and convenience of Sophie's experiences (it all just seemed to fall into place for her, she had no real negative experiences); and b) her own disconnect with her preferences. Regarding the first point, I know I'm not alone in finding her introduction into BDSM a mix of lame cliché and neat coincidence. Sure those things happen in real life - again, it's not really the veracity of her account that I'm questioning but the way she's written it, which is entirely up for critique. It's her sex-only relationship with Thomas that gave me my first pause. It begins so conveniently:

We'd been fuck buddies for a while by that point, so it was inevitable we would end up having a conversation about long-term unfulfilled fantasies. But as I knocked back a glass of red, told him a vague summation of what had happened with Ryan an my foray into internet smut before shyly admitting I fancied unleashing - or should that be leashing? - my submissive side properly with some experimentation into BDSM, I really didn't see him as the guy who would take me there. And I wasn't even expecting him to become that guy - as far as I was concerned we were having a bit of horny chat as a prelude to a perfect end-of-week pick-me-up fuck. I'd come to appreciate his intelligence and his deliciously dirty mind, but little did I know I had crossed paths with someone who it would turn out was ying to my submissive yang. [pp.63-4]


Well that worked out neatly! So lovely that her first real Dom/sub relationship was with a man she already knew, trusted and was having sex with. Though you wouldn't have much of a story if she never met a man who was into playing Dominant. And speaking of Thomas, it was her relationship to him that really made me realise that I couldn't relate to Sophie. The friends-with-benefits thing, his irritating smugness, the way they don't even seem to click together - no chemistry, I don't even remember her expressing much sexual attraction to him - none of it appeals to me and she never gave me the insight I needed to understand her and what she was doing. Which is telling, because I don't think she knew either.

Her relationship with James was even more weird, albeit in a different way. He seems a complete contradiction, coming across as an arse at first, then a lovely, sweet man who would be shocked by the thoughts in her head, then he turns into a demanding Dom who constantly drives her to higher and higher, um, heights, and then he very abruptly, with no warning whatsoever, has a crisis of conscience and decides that he likes her too much to hurt her. WTF? While this development did point out the often overlooked side of BDSM - the Dom who must be at ease with their needs as much as the sub does - it just wasn't written well. As a character, he was all over the place. It's not that Sophie was completely unobservant and missed the signs (though she doesn't strike me as someone who's very observant), it's that, according to the way she describes things, there weren't any. I just didn't find it believable, regardless of whether this is fiction or a real memoir.

And then there is Sophie herself. No matter how many times she tells us that this is what she wants and needs and desires, she never actually comes to terms with it herself. She doesn't think very deeply about why this appeals to her, or what she gets out of it, and she doesn't own it. This is evidenced by the fact that she's constantly justifying it, or defending it - often weakly, without conviction - and despite the proud last lines, she failed to really show us that she embraces her nature and isn't ashamed of it. More than that, her behaviour while "playing" was at odds with her desires as she lists them. I couldn't count how many times she would glare at her Dom, all angry and reluctant and stubborn. She's one of those cliched characters from romance and chick-lit who is so stubborn she stunts relationships before they have a chance to go anywhere. In this incarnation, her self-proclaimed stubbornness makes her BDSM play a kind of joke, or something she does against her will.

I couldn't understand her really. So many times the things that she was submitting to made her really angry, and for her, being submissive involved not acting on her anger. That's fine - but what is her real desire, the things being done to her or submitting to a man? I couldn't really tell, and I don't think she knows either. She doesn't like anything she's made to do or is done to her, but she loves it? Actually, that contradiction I can understand (though it's poorly expressed), it was more that the way she describes things, complete with her attitude, made it all seem so ... silly. As the writer of The Secret Life of a Submissive points out (or her Dom does), the rules of BDSM are only as affective as the players make them. The more you buy into it all and go along with it, at a deeper level, the more you'll experience and get out of it. Treat it like a joke and it all suddenly becomes ludicrous.

It wasn't always like that, but Sophie generally managed to ruin the atmosphere of pretty much every "scene" she took part of. She was more reflective and insightful outside of a scene, and points out some key elements to the lifestyle, like the simple fact that "only submitting to the fun stuff isn't submission" at all, which is why she does things that she's ordered to do but which she really, really doesn't want to do. But she doesn't really delve deep into the psychology of it all, and she's so resistant that I kept wondering why she was into it at all, aside from the fact that she seems to be constantly horny. And I baulk at the idea that to be a strong woman, you have to be difficult and stubborn (and angry). That's bullshit. Sophie spent a lot of time asserting that she was no victim or doormat, but her inability to really submit showed that she wasn't fully comfortable in her own skin, that she doesn't really understand it all, and that while she may be a strong woman underneath the surface, she's actually inhibiting it, her true self, by behaving like a petulant child half the time. You just can't get close enough to her to really know her or get the sense that this is real.

That and her lack of self-reflection made it a very light erotic read. She does reflect on the "lifestyle" at times, and offers some interesting personal insights, but it's the times when she's most vulnerable and open, in the throes of a scene, that she shies away from really thinking about, as well as trying to understand the other half of the equation, the Dom. In not really delving into her own nature, all of it just seemed vacuous and unrealistic.

One of the things I find particularly interesting about the D/s dynamic is that it pushes you to do things that otherwise you might not do. Not because you don't want to do them - so often you really, really do want to - but because they're things that you think might be hot/fun/interesting/unusual but that a small part of your mind baulks at, for some reason - whether that's because you feel it's 'dirty', or it's too embarrassing, or you're worried your arse'll look like a small country or whatever. I love that I can be pushed past the small part of my mind that feels that to experience these amazing new things is wrong. And, no, that's not being pushed into doing something I don't want to do, coerced or whatever - my body simply reacts before my mind has a chance to catch up; my body betrays the fact that it's something I'm into even if my eyes or words might for a time not make that obvious, and even if I can't exactly explain why or how it's making me wet. It's more about someone knowing how far I'd like to go and helping me find the courage to go for it. [p.129]


That is, quite neatly, the crux of submission in the sense of BDSM as I've come to understand it from all the other, better books I've read: The giving up of control (in a controlled environment) and handing yourself over to another person in every sense of the word, so you can stop thinking for once and simply feel and experience and to take you farther than you realised you can go. To free you. I rather think it takes a lot of courage to go there and do that. It also speaks, obliquely, to the importance of having a Dominant you can absolutely trust - and that's where it blurs into fantasy-land. Too often the men (or women) described in erotic fiction are just so super-duper at observing the submissive women (or men) in their care and they all have their heads screwed on right, that they know exactly what you need and what's okay and so on.

I had hoped that a book touted as a memoir called The Diary of a Submissive would show the practical, day-to-day life of a submissive, which to me is the part that doesn't seem doable. The sexual demands are one thing, but what about the other side of it: having someone else decide what you wear (and what you don't, like knickers and bra), what you're going to eat at a restaurant and so on. Does the super-duper Dom realise you need to use the loo? What about when you have an upset tummy, or your period and you're crabby and hormonal? How does that dynamic play out? What is it like being with a Dom when you're not engaged in a scene but going about the ordinary things in life? To be fair, there is a sequel out now called that does, apparently, explore all these questions as Sophie moves in with her boyfriend/Dominant, Adam, but unfortunately hers is not a story that I feel much interest in continuing to read about.

Everyone who enjoys this lifestyle (I'm using that word because that's how I've seen it described and I don't have a better one) enjoys it in their own personal way, and to different extents. But we don't learn about Sophie's personal life in the way you would expect. Just what are her aims in writing this? If it's to introduce new readers to the world of BDSM I would call it absolutely the wrong book to read first. If she was seeking to explain and justify and share BDSM ("real" BDSM) with people who were curious after reading EL James' Fifty Shades books, then I would say she's failed miserably. For me, after all the erotic-romance and erotica novels and short stories I've read over the last several years, this one just didn't add anything new to the genre.
]]> 3.41 2012 Diary of a Submissive: A Modern True Tale of Sexual Awakening
author: Sophie Morgan
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.41
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/03/16
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: fiction, 2013, erotica, removed
review:
English journalist Sophie Morgan recounts her journey into the world of BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, Masochism), beginning with an American boyfriend at university to her friend-with-benefits, Thomas, and later James, a more serious partner who in the end couldn't reconcile his tender side with her needs (more on that later). She describes her childhood, seeking to assure readers that she had a happy one, a very ordinary one even, as well as the gradual build-up of thoughts and desires that led her to explore the kind of relationship that she feels she needs.

This work is marketed as a memoir, but having read it, I am unconvinced. From very early on in the book, I started reading it as pure fiction. Perhaps the author did base it on certain experiences she had, but she hasn't written it as a convincing memoir, certainly not as a "diary". In fact, due to the tone it's written in, her attitude, and the way the story plays out, it reads more like kinky chick-lit than erotica, and as such, it was extremely unsatisfying, very disappointing, and often annoying.

I've had this on my shelf since it came out in 2012, and finally got around to reading it recently because I wanted a comparison in mind when I read another so-called erotic memoir, The Secret Life of a Submissive by Sarah K. Both are British, both are written in a breezy, sometimes humorous style that is so reminiscent of British chick-lit, but the latter was rather more believable in terms of realism, and a more satisfying story. But let's talk about The Diary of a Submissive.

The first thing that I noticed that ruined the realism was the simple fact that one minutes Sophie has a brother, the next it's suddenly a sister (page 15 of my edition). Later, the sister reverts back to a brother and remains one for the rest of the book. This is a minor character - in fact, we never "meet" any members of her family - but it was a glaring error in the early sections when she's describing her family and her relationship to them. And no, she doesn't have a brother and a sister, just one sibling. If you were writing your memoir, would you have trouble remembering whether your sibling was male or female? No I didn't think so. (In other editions of this book the names of the men are different - Russell instead of Thomas, Josh instead of James, and of course it's to be expected that she would change people's names. But changing your brother to a sister and then deciding no, it worked better as a brother but forgetting to fix all the edits? That's not the same thing. That's just making it up and being sloppy.)

The other elements that just made the whole thing rather laughable was a) the ease and convenience of Sophie's experiences (it all just seemed to fall into place for her, she had no real negative experiences); and b) her own disconnect with her preferences. Regarding the first point, I know I'm not alone in finding her introduction into BDSM a mix of lame cliché and neat coincidence. Sure those things happen in real life - again, it's not really the veracity of her account that I'm questioning but the way she's written it, which is entirely up for critique. It's her sex-only relationship with Thomas that gave me my first pause. It begins so conveniently:

We'd been fuck buddies for a while by that point, so it was inevitable we would end up having a conversation about long-term unfulfilled fantasies. But as I knocked back a glass of red, told him a vague summation of what had happened with Ryan an my foray into internet smut before shyly admitting I fancied unleashing - or should that be leashing? - my submissive side properly with some experimentation into BDSM, I really didn't see him as the guy who would take me there. And I wasn't even expecting him to become that guy - as far as I was concerned we were having a bit of horny chat as a prelude to a perfect end-of-week pick-me-up fuck. I'd come to appreciate his intelligence and his deliciously dirty mind, but little did I know I had crossed paths with someone who it would turn out was ying to my submissive yang. [pp.63-4]


Well that worked out neatly! So lovely that her first real Dom/sub relationship was with a man she already knew, trusted and was having sex with. Though you wouldn't have much of a story if she never met a man who was into playing Dominant. And speaking of Thomas, it was her relationship to him that really made me realise that I couldn't relate to Sophie. The friends-with-benefits thing, his irritating smugness, the way they don't even seem to click together - no chemistry, I don't even remember her expressing much sexual attraction to him - none of it appeals to me and she never gave me the insight I needed to understand her and what she was doing. Which is telling, because I don't think she knew either.

Her relationship with James was even more weird, albeit in a different way. He seems a complete contradiction, coming across as an arse at first, then a lovely, sweet man who would be shocked by the thoughts in her head, then he turns into a demanding Dom who constantly drives her to higher and higher, um, heights, and then he very abruptly, with no warning whatsoever, has a crisis of conscience and decides that he likes her too much to hurt her. WTF? While this development did point out the often overlooked side of BDSM - the Dom who must be at ease with their needs as much as the sub does - it just wasn't written well. As a character, he was all over the place. It's not that Sophie was completely unobservant and missed the signs (though she doesn't strike me as someone who's very observant), it's that, according to the way she describes things, there weren't any. I just didn't find it believable, regardless of whether this is fiction or a real memoir.

And then there is Sophie herself. No matter how many times she tells us that this is what she wants and needs and desires, she never actually comes to terms with it herself. She doesn't think very deeply about why this appeals to her, or what she gets out of it, and she doesn't own it. This is evidenced by the fact that she's constantly justifying it, or defending it - often weakly, without conviction - and despite the proud last lines, she failed to really show us that she embraces her nature and isn't ashamed of it. More than that, her behaviour while "playing" was at odds with her desires as she lists them. I couldn't count how many times she would glare at her Dom, all angry and reluctant and stubborn. She's one of those cliched characters from romance and chick-lit who is so stubborn she stunts relationships before they have a chance to go anywhere. In this incarnation, her self-proclaimed stubbornness makes her BDSM play a kind of joke, or something she does against her will.

I couldn't understand her really. So many times the things that she was submitting to made her really angry, and for her, being submissive involved not acting on her anger. That's fine - but what is her real desire, the things being done to her or submitting to a man? I couldn't really tell, and I don't think she knows either. She doesn't like anything she's made to do or is done to her, but she loves it? Actually, that contradiction I can understand (though it's poorly expressed), it was more that the way she describes things, complete with her attitude, made it all seem so ... silly. As the writer of The Secret Life of a Submissive points out (or her Dom does), the rules of BDSM are only as affective as the players make them. The more you buy into it all and go along with it, at a deeper level, the more you'll experience and get out of it. Treat it like a joke and it all suddenly becomes ludicrous.

It wasn't always like that, but Sophie generally managed to ruin the atmosphere of pretty much every "scene" she took part of. She was more reflective and insightful outside of a scene, and points out some key elements to the lifestyle, like the simple fact that "only submitting to the fun stuff isn't submission" at all, which is why she does things that she's ordered to do but which she really, really doesn't want to do. But she doesn't really delve deep into the psychology of it all, and she's so resistant that I kept wondering why she was into it at all, aside from the fact that she seems to be constantly horny. And I baulk at the idea that to be a strong woman, you have to be difficult and stubborn (and angry). That's bullshit. Sophie spent a lot of time asserting that she was no victim or doormat, but her inability to really submit showed that she wasn't fully comfortable in her own skin, that she doesn't really understand it all, and that while she may be a strong woman underneath the surface, she's actually inhibiting it, her true self, by behaving like a petulant child half the time. You just can't get close enough to her to really know her or get the sense that this is real.

That and her lack of self-reflection made it a very light erotic read. She does reflect on the "lifestyle" at times, and offers some interesting personal insights, but it's the times when she's most vulnerable and open, in the throes of a scene, that she shies away from really thinking about, as well as trying to understand the other half of the equation, the Dom. In not really delving into her own nature, all of it just seemed vacuous and unrealistic.

One of the things I find particularly interesting about the D/s dynamic is that it pushes you to do things that otherwise you might not do. Not because you don't want to do them - so often you really, really do want to - but because they're things that you think might be hot/fun/interesting/unusual but that a small part of your mind baulks at, for some reason - whether that's because you feel it's 'dirty', or it's too embarrassing, or you're worried your arse'll look like a small country or whatever. I love that I can be pushed past the small part of my mind that feels that to experience these amazing new things is wrong. And, no, that's not being pushed into doing something I don't want to do, coerced or whatever - my body simply reacts before my mind has a chance to catch up; my body betrays the fact that it's something I'm into even if my eyes or words might for a time not make that obvious, and even if I can't exactly explain why or how it's making me wet. It's more about someone knowing how far I'd like to go and helping me find the courage to go for it. [p.129]


That is, quite neatly, the crux of submission in the sense of BDSM as I've come to understand it from all the other, better books I've read: The giving up of control (in a controlled environment) and handing yourself over to another person in every sense of the word, so you can stop thinking for once and simply feel and experience and to take you farther than you realised you can go. To free you. I rather think it takes a lot of courage to go there and do that. It also speaks, obliquely, to the importance of having a Dominant you can absolutely trust - and that's where it blurs into fantasy-land. Too often the men (or women) described in erotic fiction are just so super-duper at observing the submissive women (or men) in their care and they all have their heads screwed on right, that they know exactly what you need and what's okay and so on.

I had hoped that a book touted as a memoir called The Diary of a Submissive would show the practical, day-to-day life of a submissive, which to me is the part that doesn't seem doable. The sexual demands are one thing, but what about the other side of it: having someone else decide what you wear (and what you don't, like knickers and bra), what you're going to eat at a restaurant and so on. Does the super-duper Dom realise you need to use the loo? What about when you have an upset tummy, or your period and you're crabby and hormonal? How does that dynamic play out? What is it like being with a Dom when you're not engaged in a scene but going about the ordinary things in life? To be fair, there is a sequel out now called that does, apparently, explore all these questions as Sophie moves in with her boyfriend/Dominant, Adam, but unfortunately hers is not a story that I feel much interest in continuing to read about.

Everyone who enjoys this lifestyle (I'm using that word because that's how I've seen it described and I don't have a better one) enjoys it in their own personal way, and to different extents. But we don't learn about Sophie's personal life in the way you would expect. Just what are her aims in writing this? If it's to introduce new readers to the world of BDSM I would call it absolutely the wrong book to read first. If she was seeking to explain and justify and share BDSM ("real" BDSM) with people who were curious after reading EL James' Fifty Shades books, then I would say she's failed miserably. For me, after all the erotic-romance and erotica novels and short stories I've read over the last several years, this one just didn't add anything new to the genre.

]]> <![CDATA[The Secret Life of a Submissive: A True Story]]> 16280404
By day she’s a writer and level-headed single mother; by night she’s a submissive, surrendering herself to forbidden delights. But will she perform the most illicit act of all – falling in love?

Written with complete honesty, this is an electrifying journey to the heights of pleasure; a real-life Fifty Shades of Grey.

When Max comes into Sarah’s life – charming, handsome and deliciously brooding – she can’t stop herself. Before long she has surrendered to him in every way: becoming his submissive, yielding her body to his every desire, powerless to fight his sensual temptations.

As Sarah pushes her mind and body to its limits, she begins to realise that she’s in too deep. Pleasure and pain have become her world. She’s addicted – to the adrenalin, to the sensation, to Max himself.

Now she’s in serious danger of giving in to the ultimate temptation: falling in love…

Daring, evocative and thrilling, but told with wit and honesty, this is the explosive true story of life as a submissive, and of a secret world in which only a few dare to play.]]> 279 Sarah K. 000750621X Shannon 3
After several useless dates with unexciting men she meets through an online dating site, Sarah decides to take the plunge and explore her so-called perverted sexual fantasies. She spends months exploring the internet and learning all about the lifestyle of BDSM, what excites her and what doesn't, and finally adds her own profile to an international BDSM website, stressing her inexperience and that she's seeking a man to guide her slowly into it all. She goes about it all carefully, knowing how important it is to her not just to find a man who isn't flat-out weird or psychotic, but a man she has a spark of chemistry with. Finally, she meets Max, and he's everything she was looking for.

Max is divorced with adult children, and has a little girl with his ex-girlfriend Abby. He's a successful man who does a lot of business in Europe, and he carries himself with the kind of quiet confidence that comes with being perfectly at ease with who you are. After a great deal of discussion and some laying out of the rules - Max stresses the importance of rules and a contract, not because it's legally binding but so that they know they have a mutual understanding and agreement which leads to better trust - Max begins to lead Sarah into the intoxicating world of pleasure and pain.

As Sarah explores her limits and the things that work - and the things that push her - she finds herself sleeping better, more at peace with herself, and her confidence growing. Many elements that come with the BDSM lifestyle are confronting and humiliating, and she finds the paradox - that something humiliating and embarrassing can be such a big turn-on for her - interesting but not strange.

Through Sarah's eyes we see the very ordinary, normal people who enjoy this kind of thing, and through her perspective we learn something about what appeals to people about this lifestyle, and how pain can lead to pleasure.

I'm glad I read by Sophie Morgan just before reading this (I wanted a comparison, as they're clearly similar), because it proved to be an invaluable comparison in understanding just what kind of book this is and who it will appeal to. Both books are marketed as true stories, but unlike Morgan's book, this one was easier believe. With Sarah's frank and open voice narrating events and what's going on inside her head, it's easy to believe that this really is a memoir; unlike with Morgan's book, I read it that way too.

It wasn't until after I finished this when I was looking through the kind of erotica that appeals to me personally, did it click what feels different about this - and Morgan's - book from what I'm used to reading. These two books have come out specifically in the wake of the mainstream success of the Fifty Shades trilogy - they have nothing in common with EL James's books, really they don't, no matter how often the publishers call them "real life Fifty Shades". What they are is a response to the mainstream popularity that arose in recent years, books for people - women - who've never read erotica before to dip their toes in once again. Neither book is particularly confronting, not compared to the erotic fiction I usually read, which is sharper, more up-front and assumes the reader isn't a newbie to the genre - there's no padding, and often no justification or defence either (the psychology of it is handled more subtly).

I wouldn't recommend The Diary of a Submissive to anyone - it just wasn't well written at all - but I would recommend The Secret Life of a Submissive. Sarah's journey takes the reader slowly into the BDSM world, broadening the horizons gradually, and countering assumptions along the way - and not quite countering others. For example, the idea that people who practice BDSM are perverts or "not nice" (as in, "nice men/women don't want that") is never overtly countered, though it's there in the characters and scenes if you read between the lines. I would like to remove the "pervert" judgement from the equation, it's rather tired and doesn't even match. (I don't know about you, but when I think "pervert" I think old men in flasher-jackets, jumping out from behind bushes to flash you their little willies.)

One of the refreshing things about this book - and one of the things glaringly absent from Sophie Morgan's version (I did say I wanted a comparison!) - was how Sarah often wonders how things that are normal in the BDSM world work in the everyday, asexual world. When she meets a young submissive woman called Carly who goes about indoors naked, she observes that Carly's labia "had a row of studs up either side: shiny stainless-steel balls like a row of ball bearings. I stared, wondering what the hell she said when she went to the doctor. Lord only knows what she would do to an airport security scanner." [p.135] And while exploring the playroom at Georgina's house during a BDSM party:

On the wall on a shelf above the baskets of condoms were a selection of dildos and strap-on cocks that varied in size from oh-yes via good-lord to bloody-hell and then alongside them were other things that defy description or identification. Georgina caught me looking at them and smiled.
"You can try anything you want, dear," she said with a wave of the hand. "Just help yourselves."
At which point I said the first thing that came into my head, which was, "They must be hell to keep clean."
"Not at all, sweetie," said Georgina, helping herself to a cup of water from the cooler. "Barry just pops them all in the dishwasher." [p.161]


That one gave me a giggle. She wonders a lot about these things - about whether she would have to sleep on a mattress on the floor all the time, whether she would ever be able to snuggle with her Dom - because she herself wants a blend of the two, and Max is all hard-line Dom. As he clearly puts it, the rules between them are important and remain in place even when they're not in a scene - such as her calling him "Sir" and not speaking unless given permission - because it makes the whole thing more psychologically real, and BDSM is all about the psychology. This is true of the pain as well, and the giving up of control over oneself (as a sub): it is freeing. It makes a person feel alive (the same goal, I've always thought, behind why people cut themselves or do drugs or any number of self-destructive things: BDSM happens to be one of the ways you can achieve the same ends without destroying yourself, or doing any real lasting harm to yourself or another). Sarah doesn't enjoy being whipped - it always hurts - but it also arouses her and when the pain reaches a certain point she finds that she can fall into it, and her mind floats free - euphoria. Needless to say, the orgasms she experiences during scenes with Max are intense. And as I mentioned before, she sleeps deeply and well afterwards.

In the end, Sarah finds the balance that she needs, and that's the key message that runs through all BDSM stories: it's an individual thing, and only fulfils its aims if you are in the situation that works for you. Someone like Sarah could never live the BDSM lifestyle 24/7, and that's what she learns through her time with Max. Max himself is a bit of an erotic-romance cliché, but his commanding presence and charisma comes across clearly and overrode my eye-rolling. With him, Sarah has found a safe, trustworthy and experienced person with which to experiment and explore - I would think that this is quite rare, because I can't help but have a very prosaic view of humanity and our many flaws, that the kind of man (or woman) who would make an ideal Dom isn't very common. He's a bit of a fantasy, I tend to think, but when I follow the thought through I also see that, just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder (we don't all find the same people attractive), so is the individual who you could "work" with in this way a subjective thing. Max was ideal for Sarah, but he might have been "off" for others. You see that at Georgina's party, where Sarah meets a wide range of ordinary people who get off on BDSM play in many different guises, and they have clearly found someone who works for them. And sometimes it doesn't work, and as with everyone else, they go back on the market and keep looking.

Plot-wise, this struggled a bit. I know that people have drama in their lives, but no matter how real the plot of this is, it reads awfully cheesy and had me rolling my eyes a bit. What started off strong ended rather lamely. Well, such is life really yeah? I just don't like being distracted by questions of "did that really happen?" It touches on a less stable element of BDSM - Abby is unhinged to say the least - but thankfully steers clear of linking her "condition" to the lifestyle (obviously BDSM doesn't actually cause you to become obsessive and stalkerish, but it probably does attract such people. Perhaps). The other thing to note about the way this was written is that, during "play" when Sarah is totally in the zone, the narrative switches from past tense to present tense, giving it an extra dollop of intensity. It was quite effective really.

While I did like this book, having read much more intense erotica than this (and erotic-romance, for that matter), this wasn't a very satisfying read for me - but then, I don't think I'm the reader she had in mind. This is the step I skipped when I started reading the genre, because books like this weren't really available then. Therefore, reading this was like sitting through a first year lecture for a degree you've already completed. Or having someone show you how to ride a bike even though you already know.

As interesting as it was to read Sarah's story - to follow someone so familiar and relatable as she treads on a new and unknown path (I am impressed by her bravery and courage, I don't think I could do what she did) - it was tame compared to what I'm used to, and didn't really add anything new to my understanding of BDSM (which is an on-going work in progress from the safety of my couch!). It was often fun, humorous even, and Sarah was a believable character in her own story, but it wasn't very exciting, and some of the best (more exciting and interesting) scenes, she glosses over, only mentioning them in passing. Really, this is an ideal book for readers who are just like Sarah: young at forty, married or separated, reexamining their lives and questioning their choices, and curious about things they've never been exposed to before. This is most definitely their book, a good, well-written intro to the genre and to BDSM in general.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> 3.77 2012 The Secret Life of a Submissive: A True Story
author: Sarah K.
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.77
book published: 2012
rating: 3
read at: 2013/03/25
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: erotica, 2013, tlc-book-tours, removed
review:
Sarah is a writer of romance and erotic fiction in the UK but had never actually experienced the things she wrote about - she borrowed heavily from the fantasies in her own head. Married to an older man with old-fashioned ideas who was rather dull in bed, their children older teens and young adults now, as Sarah's story opens her marriage is finally ending and she is moving on with her life as a confident single woman.

After several useless dates with unexciting men she meets through an online dating site, Sarah decides to take the plunge and explore her so-called perverted sexual fantasies. She spends months exploring the internet and learning all about the lifestyle of BDSM, what excites her and what doesn't, and finally adds her own profile to an international BDSM website, stressing her inexperience and that she's seeking a man to guide her slowly into it all. She goes about it all carefully, knowing how important it is to her not just to find a man who isn't flat-out weird or psychotic, but a man she has a spark of chemistry with. Finally, she meets Max, and he's everything she was looking for.

Max is divorced with adult children, and has a little girl with his ex-girlfriend Abby. He's a successful man who does a lot of business in Europe, and he carries himself with the kind of quiet confidence that comes with being perfectly at ease with who you are. After a great deal of discussion and some laying out of the rules - Max stresses the importance of rules and a contract, not because it's legally binding but so that they know they have a mutual understanding and agreement which leads to better trust - Max begins to lead Sarah into the intoxicating world of pleasure and pain.

As Sarah explores her limits and the things that work - and the things that push her - she finds herself sleeping better, more at peace with herself, and her confidence growing. Many elements that come with the BDSM lifestyle are confronting and humiliating, and she finds the paradox - that something humiliating and embarrassing can be such a big turn-on for her - interesting but not strange.

Through Sarah's eyes we see the very ordinary, normal people who enjoy this kind of thing, and through her perspective we learn something about what appeals to people about this lifestyle, and how pain can lead to pleasure.

I'm glad I read by Sophie Morgan just before reading this (I wanted a comparison, as they're clearly similar), because it proved to be an invaluable comparison in understanding just what kind of book this is and who it will appeal to. Both books are marketed as true stories, but unlike Morgan's book, this one was easier believe. With Sarah's frank and open voice narrating events and what's going on inside her head, it's easy to believe that this really is a memoir; unlike with Morgan's book, I read it that way too.

It wasn't until after I finished this when I was looking through the kind of erotica that appeals to me personally, did it click what feels different about this - and Morgan's - book from what I'm used to reading. These two books have come out specifically in the wake of the mainstream success of the Fifty Shades trilogy - they have nothing in common with EL James's books, really they don't, no matter how often the publishers call them "real life Fifty Shades". What they are is a response to the mainstream popularity that arose in recent years, books for people - women - who've never read erotica before to dip their toes in once again. Neither book is particularly confronting, not compared to the erotic fiction I usually read, which is sharper, more up-front and assumes the reader isn't a newbie to the genre - there's no padding, and often no justification or defence either (the psychology of it is handled more subtly).

I wouldn't recommend The Diary of a Submissive to anyone - it just wasn't well written at all - but I would recommend The Secret Life of a Submissive. Sarah's journey takes the reader slowly into the BDSM world, broadening the horizons gradually, and countering assumptions along the way - and not quite countering others. For example, the idea that people who practice BDSM are perverts or "not nice" (as in, "nice men/women don't want that") is never overtly countered, though it's there in the characters and scenes if you read between the lines. I would like to remove the "pervert" judgement from the equation, it's rather tired and doesn't even match. (I don't know about you, but when I think "pervert" I think old men in flasher-jackets, jumping out from behind bushes to flash you their little willies.)

One of the refreshing things about this book - and one of the things glaringly absent from Sophie Morgan's version (I did say I wanted a comparison!) - was how Sarah often wonders how things that are normal in the BDSM world work in the everyday, asexual world. When she meets a young submissive woman called Carly who goes about indoors naked, she observes that Carly's labia "had a row of studs up either side: shiny stainless-steel balls like a row of ball bearings. I stared, wondering what the hell she said when she went to the doctor. Lord only knows what she would do to an airport security scanner." [p.135] And while exploring the playroom at Georgina's house during a BDSM party:

On the wall on a shelf above the baskets of condoms were a selection of dildos and strap-on cocks that varied in size from oh-yes via good-lord to bloody-hell and then alongside them were other things that defy description or identification. Georgina caught me looking at them and smiled.
"You can try anything you want, dear," she said with a wave of the hand. "Just help yourselves."
At which point I said the first thing that came into my head, which was, "They must be hell to keep clean."
"Not at all, sweetie," said Georgina, helping herself to a cup of water from the cooler. "Barry just pops them all in the dishwasher." [p.161]


That one gave me a giggle. She wonders a lot about these things - about whether she would have to sleep on a mattress on the floor all the time, whether she would ever be able to snuggle with her Dom - because she herself wants a blend of the two, and Max is all hard-line Dom. As he clearly puts it, the rules between them are important and remain in place even when they're not in a scene - such as her calling him "Sir" and not speaking unless given permission - because it makes the whole thing more psychologically real, and BDSM is all about the psychology. This is true of the pain as well, and the giving up of control over oneself (as a sub): it is freeing. It makes a person feel alive (the same goal, I've always thought, behind why people cut themselves or do drugs or any number of self-destructive things: BDSM happens to be one of the ways you can achieve the same ends without destroying yourself, or doing any real lasting harm to yourself or another). Sarah doesn't enjoy being whipped - it always hurts - but it also arouses her and when the pain reaches a certain point she finds that she can fall into it, and her mind floats free - euphoria. Needless to say, the orgasms she experiences during scenes with Max are intense. And as I mentioned before, she sleeps deeply and well afterwards.

In the end, Sarah finds the balance that she needs, and that's the key message that runs through all BDSM stories: it's an individual thing, and only fulfils its aims if you are in the situation that works for you. Someone like Sarah could never live the BDSM lifestyle 24/7, and that's what she learns through her time with Max. Max himself is a bit of an erotic-romance cliché, but his commanding presence and charisma comes across clearly and overrode my eye-rolling. With him, Sarah has found a safe, trustworthy and experienced person with which to experiment and explore - I would think that this is quite rare, because I can't help but have a very prosaic view of humanity and our many flaws, that the kind of man (or woman) who would make an ideal Dom isn't very common. He's a bit of a fantasy, I tend to think, but when I follow the thought through I also see that, just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder (we don't all find the same people attractive), so is the individual who you could "work" with in this way a subjective thing. Max was ideal for Sarah, but he might have been "off" for others. You see that at Georgina's party, where Sarah meets a wide range of ordinary people who get off on BDSM play in many different guises, and they have clearly found someone who works for them. And sometimes it doesn't work, and as with everyone else, they go back on the market and keep looking.

Plot-wise, this struggled a bit. I know that people have drama in their lives, but no matter how real the plot of this is, it reads awfully cheesy and had me rolling my eyes a bit. What started off strong ended rather lamely. Well, such is life really yeah? I just don't like being distracted by questions of "did that really happen?" It touches on a less stable element of BDSM - Abby is unhinged to say the least - but thankfully steers clear of linking her "condition" to the lifestyle (obviously BDSM doesn't actually cause you to become obsessive and stalkerish, but it probably does attract such people. Perhaps). The other thing to note about the way this was written is that, during "play" when Sarah is totally in the zone, the narrative switches from past tense to present tense, giving it an extra dollop of intensity. It was quite effective really.

While I did like this book, having read much more intense erotica than this (and erotic-romance, for that matter), this wasn't a very satisfying read for me - but then, I don't think I'm the reader she had in mind. This is the step I skipped when I started reading the genre, because books like this weren't really available then. Therefore, reading this was like sitting through a first year lecture for a degree you've already completed. Or having someone show you how to ride a bike even though you already know.

As interesting as it was to read Sarah's story - to follow someone so familiar and relatable as she treads on a new and unknown path (I am impressed by her bravery and courage, I don't think I could do what she did) - it was tame compared to what I'm used to, and didn't really add anything new to my understanding of BDSM (which is an on-going work in progress from the safety of my couch!). It was often fun, humorous even, and Sarah was a believable character in her own story, but it wasn't very exciting, and some of the best (more exciting and interesting) scenes, she glosses over, only mentioning them in passing. Really, this is an ideal book for readers who are just like Sarah: young at forty, married or separated, reexamining their lives and questioning their choices, and curious about things they've never been exposed to before. This is most definitely their book, a good, well-written intro to the genre and to BDSM in general.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.

]]> <![CDATA[Dear Sir, I'm Yours (The Connaghers, #2)]]> 7162965
There’s no house restoration too challenging for Rae Jackson, a.k.a. “The Fix-It Lady”. There’s no fixing the past, though. Like the day she left college. A semester of flirting with her English professor ended when he spanked her to the best orgasm of her life. Afraid of her own eager willingness to comply with the sexy dom’s commands—no matter what—she fled.

Yet not even five years can dim her memory of his masterful touch.
Conn never forgot the one student who gave him a big fat “F” on the greatest test of his life. After all these years, he’s still haunted by his uncharacteristic loss of control. When he finds the very object of his shame—and desire—crawling around under his grandmother’s house, he swears to do anything to win Rae’s trust.
Rae finds herself helpless against Conn’s slow seduction. Exactly the way she likes it. Instead of poetry, this time she learns the erotic pleasure to be found in bondage…and submission to the sexiest professor alive.

Warning: Explicit sex, spanking, light bondage, a crazy old lady who talks to ghosts, and one lethal pink parasol.]]> 256 Joely Sue Burkhart 1605045993 Shannon 3 erotic-romance, 2013, removed
Two years after that came her second big mistake: marrying Richard, who had worked for her father and was running the business - into the ground, as it turned out. The relationship was abusive and when it reached a peak Rae kicked him out and divorced him, but the damage to her psyche was done. Now she's working for Miss Belle, it takes no time at all for Conn to discover her presence there, and he's determined not to let her run from him again.

Conn - he hates his first name, Verrill, which Miss Belle wields like a weapon - never got the letter Rae wrote him after that day in his office, because he never opens his email - a fact Rae was well aware of. And he never read any of her other letters to him, because she never sent them. Conn has a lot of lost time to make up for, but Rae is skittish and struggles to see her preference for the dominating Texan as anything other than a weakness. Determined not to be a doormat ever again, it's going to take more than soothing words and sheer determination on Conn's part to get her to trust him - and be with him, permanently. Because that's his plan, and it's only a matter of time according to Miss Belle, who has a bet going with her ghostly husband, Colonel Healy.

This was a surprising amount of fun, especially with a warning on the back cover like this one: "Explicit sex, spanking, light bondage, a crazy lady who talks to ghost, and one lethal pink parasol." On the "explicit sex" side of things, this is very light in comparison to other erotic romances I've read - it takes quite some time to even get to the sex, and it's not as detailed (and certainly not as heavy) as in other books. It reminded me more of Maya Banks' ; if you've read that book, you'll have a good idea of what this one is like. Also, you can read the short, 59-page prequel, , online (click the link for the pdf), which tells the story of Rae and Conn five years before. I didn't read it (because I didn't know about it until now), but I reckon it'd add a good meaty layer to the tension and Rae's initial reaction on seeing Conn again after five years.

Burkhart also pays close attention to her setting, and while I don't know much (at all) about Missouri or the American South in general, I got a pretty good idea of the area from reading this. It definitely has a real flavour of the South, from the cooking to the architecture to the ghosts. The ghost side of the story was a lot of fun, and you have to love crazy Miss Belle who's really not as crazy as she seems - nor so formidable.

The plot follows fairly typical lines for the genre, but I really enjoyed the time spent building up the sexual tension. There's a lot of anticipation here, a focus on the chemistry between Conn and Rae, which is something I love reading. Sex is merely sex unless there's chemistry, tension, and a slow, burning build-up, yeah? Well there's plenty of that, less sex though.

In the beginning, I liked Rae a lot, and throughout the novel I could certainly sympathise with her. But she did start to annoy me with her scared-little-girl thing, it got stale and tired pretty fast. Again, it reminded me of that Maya Banks book I mentioned before, making me wonder whether this kind of woman actually exists or whether she's a romance trope that's becoming more entrenched in romance set in the American South? Only I have never met a woman who's anything at all like Rae, though I'm hardly looking to Romance for realism, that would be rather hilarious.

Conn was certainly appealing, an English professor from Texas who loves poetry and hates the internet, he's a dom at heart and a genuine, loving kind of man. I did find it hard to get a grasp of him though. I had trouble understanding his character, which almost seemed too fluid, too inconsistent. And speaking of him being an English professor, what's with Rae saying that the "normal everyday sort of English professor" is a man who wears a tweed jacket and has a pipe? Ouch for that dated stereotype! I'm pretty sure that kind of English professor hasn't existed for a good century! The closest I can think of is one of my History lecturers, the head of the department, who did wear a jacket that might have had elbow patches, but he was from the UK so he has an excuse.

I have to speak to a quibble I have, though, one that could have been easily fixed at the editing or copy-editing stage. Conn likes to fence, and we witness him practicing with a friend from the maths department. Only, it's not fencing. You don't use "wooden practice swords" and take part in a kind of medieval times or renaissance fair thing, in full costume, when you fence. Not in the sense of fencing as the art of fencing, with a fine blade called a foil (there are a few kinds of blades), turned sideways to present less body to your opponent, and so on. You know what I mean, think . I've never heard sword-fighting - with great big swords and brute strength - called fencing before.

As a story exploring domestic abuse and women's rather fragile psyche especially in relation to the sense of shame many women experience in relation to their sexual desires (and their bodies), Burkhart does a good job of creating a scenario and a character who speaks to this issue. The kind of abuse Rae received from Richard was mostly emotional and psychological, and hugely damaging. Add to that her confusion, guilt and shame regarding her enjoyment of that interlude in Conn's office and what it says about her, and you've got someone a bit messed up, but understandably so. Conn is reassuring, patient, loving and instructive - clearly all things Rae needs. Yet how many Conn's are there, for women like Rae, really? How many women continue to be abused or have a dangerously low opinion of themselves because of their society, their community, their environment and their relationships? It's tragic to think of it.

Overall, a quick light read full of amusing in-jokes, brimming with sexual tension and a satisfying resolution - not to mention a running theme of making it clear that men who take advantage of women are worthless, pathetic, insecure and definitely not worth staying with (Richard wasn't the only arrogant chauvinist in the story). I would have rated this higher but in the end Rae was just too annoying for me. Fans of Maya Banks' Sweet series would find much to enjoy with Burkhart's Connagher boys. I know I want to read in the series now, about Conn's brother, Victor.]]> 3.81 2009 Dear Sir, I'm Yours (The Connaghers, #2)
author: Joely Sue Burkhart
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.81
book published: 2009
rating: 3
read at: 2013/02/10
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: erotic-romance, 2013, removed
review:
Rae Jackson has turned her back on the mistakes of her past and reinvented herself - and her father's construction company - as The Fix-it Lady, specialising in renovating the old historic homes of Missouri. She's excited about the new job coming up, working on an old plantation house that the owner, an old lady known as Miss Belle, plans to open as a Bed & Breakfast. The one thing that makes her nervous is that five years ago, Miss Belle's grandson, Conn, once bent her over her desk and spanked her to orgasm. He was her English professor, and she never went back to university after that, using the excuse of her father's near-death accident and consequent paralysis to stay home.

Two years after that came her second big mistake: marrying Richard, who had worked for her father and was running the business - into the ground, as it turned out. The relationship was abusive and when it reached a peak Rae kicked him out and divorced him, but the damage to her psyche was done. Now she's working for Miss Belle, it takes no time at all for Conn to discover her presence there, and he's determined not to let her run from him again.

Conn - he hates his first name, Verrill, which Miss Belle wields like a weapon - never got the letter Rae wrote him after that day in his office, because he never opens his email - a fact Rae was well aware of. And he never read any of her other letters to him, because she never sent them. Conn has a lot of lost time to make up for, but Rae is skittish and struggles to see her preference for the dominating Texan as anything other than a weakness. Determined not to be a doormat ever again, it's going to take more than soothing words and sheer determination on Conn's part to get her to trust him - and be with him, permanently. Because that's his plan, and it's only a matter of time according to Miss Belle, who has a bet going with her ghostly husband, Colonel Healy.

This was a surprising amount of fun, especially with a warning on the back cover like this one: "Explicit sex, spanking, light bondage, a crazy lady who talks to ghost, and one lethal pink parasol." On the "explicit sex" side of things, this is very light in comparison to other erotic romances I've read - it takes quite some time to even get to the sex, and it's not as detailed (and certainly not as heavy) as in other books. It reminded me more of Maya Banks' ; if you've read that book, you'll have a good idea of what this one is like. Also, you can read the short, 59-page prequel, , online (click the link for the pdf), which tells the story of Rae and Conn five years before. I didn't read it (because I didn't know about it until now), but I reckon it'd add a good meaty layer to the tension and Rae's initial reaction on seeing Conn again after five years.

Burkhart also pays close attention to her setting, and while I don't know much (at all) about Missouri or the American South in general, I got a pretty good idea of the area from reading this. It definitely has a real flavour of the South, from the cooking to the architecture to the ghosts. The ghost side of the story was a lot of fun, and you have to love crazy Miss Belle who's really not as crazy as she seems - nor so formidable.

The plot follows fairly typical lines for the genre, but I really enjoyed the time spent building up the sexual tension. There's a lot of anticipation here, a focus on the chemistry between Conn and Rae, which is something I love reading. Sex is merely sex unless there's chemistry, tension, and a slow, burning build-up, yeah? Well there's plenty of that, less sex though.

In the beginning, I liked Rae a lot, and throughout the novel I could certainly sympathise with her. But she did start to annoy me with her scared-little-girl thing, it got stale and tired pretty fast. Again, it reminded me of that Maya Banks book I mentioned before, making me wonder whether this kind of woman actually exists or whether she's a romance trope that's becoming more entrenched in romance set in the American South? Only I have never met a woman who's anything at all like Rae, though I'm hardly looking to Romance for realism, that would be rather hilarious.

Conn was certainly appealing, an English professor from Texas who loves poetry and hates the internet, he's a dom at heart and a genuine, loving kind of man. I did find it hard to get a grasp of him though. I had trouble understanding his character, which almost seemed too fluid, too inconsistent. And speaking of him being an English professor, what's with Rae saying that the "normal everyday sort of English professor" is a man who wears a tweed jacket and has a pipe? Ouch for that dated stereotype! I'm pretty sure that kind of English professor hasn't existed for a good century! The closest I can think of is one of my History lecturers, the head of the department, who did wear a jacket that might have had elbow patches, but he was from the UK so he has an excuse.

I have to speak to a quibble I have, though, one that could have been easily fixed at the editing or copy-editing stage. Conn likes to fence, and we witness him practicing with a friend from the maths department. Only, it's not fencing. You don't use "wooden practice swords" and take part in a kind of medieval times or renaissance fair thing, in full costume, when you fence. Not in the sense of fencing as the art of fencing, with a fine blade called a foil (there are a few kinds of blades), turned sideways to present less body to your opponent, and so on. You know what I mean, think . I've never heard sword-fighting - with great big swords and brute strength - called fencing before.

As a story exploring domestic abuse and women's rather fragile psyche especially in relation to the sense of shame many women experience in relation to their sexual desires (and their bodies), Burkhart does a good job of creating a scenario and a character who speaks to this issue. The kind of abuse Rae received from Richard was mostly emotional and psychological, and hugely damaging. Add to that her confusion, guilt and shame regarding her enjoyment of that interlude in Conn's office and what it says about her, and you've got someone a bit messed up, but understandably so. Conn is reassuring, patient, loving and instructive - clearly all things Rae needs. Yet how many Conn's are there, for women like Rae, really? How many women continue to be abused or have a dangerously low opinion of themselves because of their society, their community, their environment and their relationships? It's tragic to think of it.

Overall, a quick light read full of amusing in-jokes, brimming with sexual tension and a satisfying resolution - not to mention a running theme of making it clear that men who take advantage of women are worthless, pathetic, insecure and definitely not worth staying with (Richard wasn't the only arrogant chauvinist in the story). I would have rated this higher but in the end Rae was just too annoying for me. Fans of Maya Banks' Sweet series would find much to enjoy with Burkhart's Connagher boys. I know I want to read in the series now, about Conn's brother, Victor.
]]> The Bungalow 11720964 A sweeping World War II saga of thwarted love, murder, and a long-lost painting.

In the summer of 1942, twenty-one-year-old Anne Calloway, newly engaged, sets off to serve in the Army Nurse Corps on the Pacific island of Bora-Bora. More exhilarated by the adventure of a lifetime than she ever was by her predictable fiancé, she is drawn to a mysterious soldier named Westry, and their friendship soon blossoms into hues as deep as the hibiscus flowers native to the island. Under the thatched roof of an abandoned beach bungalow, the two share a private world-until they witness a gruesome crime, Westry is suddenly redeployed, and the idyll vanishes into the winds of war.

A timeless story of enduring passion from the author of Blackberry Winter and The Violets of March, The Bungalow chronicles Anne's determination to discover the truth about the twin losses-of life, and of love-that have haunted her for seventy years.]]> 290 Sarah Jio 0452297672 Shannon 2
Anne is happy with Gerard, but that happiness is tempered by other feelings. She worries that there's no passion between them, and she worries that she's losing respect for him because he won't volunteer like so many others have, and that his influential father - a former senator - has ensured that Gerard won't be drafted either. Everything seems to be happening so fast, and taking a year off in the South Pacific seems like just the thing she needs.

The nurses are shipped off to Bora-Bora, a tropical island in French Polynesia, to work at the hospital there. The American troops stationed there are mostly good-natured and friendly, but Kitty especially seems to quickly pick the ones who worry Anne the most: a young man not much older than them called Lance, and the man in charge himself, Colonel Donahue. Anne herself isn't there to find a man like so many of the nurses seem to be, but she soon finds herself drawn to one young soldier, Westry Green. When they discover an old dilapidated hut in the dense vegetation near the beach, they turn it into their own private hideout.

But the paradise Anne has found in the bungalow with Westry is a transient thing, and when they witness a murder on the beach everything in Anne's life changes, including the friendships Anne always valued most.

I read this primarily because I was looking for a book set in the South Pacific islands, and in terms of the Bora-Bora setting, Jio writes with a great sense of place, time and atmosphere. A beautiful tropical island in the middle of a violent, bloody war - it's a shocking juxtaposition and works admirably. Jio's main strength in writing this novel is the setting, which is strongly captured and resonates with the reader's senses.

However, I have to say that I was disappointed with the novel for several reasons. From the first page, I found Anne rather unlikeable (and she's not meant to be). She comes across as prudish, certainly, but this is the forties. She's a product of her time and her class; it wasn't that. For a heroine who narrates in the first person, Anne never faces herself, never lets us close, and never lets down her guard. It's just the way this is written. In little ways, it seemed to me that Jio struggled to capture a woman of the period, with all their distinctive traits, and make her sympathetic and relatable at the same time. To me, it read like she was trying too hard, or that she never really felt comfortable with Anne herself, never settled inside her bones and her brain in order to convey her convincingly. This, I readily admit, is a purely subjective reading of mine, and after a quick look around the internet, I don't think many people had this problem.

But to be honest, it wasn't just Anne who was stiff and jerky. None of the characters really came alive for me, they all had their feet set in specific tracks that took them through the motions. You never really get to know anyone, in this book. And that was a huge disappointment for me. Two of the worst culprits, aside from Anne herself, were Kitty and Westry. Kitty was perhaps the most successfully drawn character, maintaining some more subtle impressions that the reader picks up on but Anne, in her naiveté, doesn't. But we're still kept at a distance, one that echoes Anne's own - Anne herself never lets herself get close to anyone, certainly no one from her old life, and no one here on the island either.

Westry, the love interest, suffers too. I liked him at first, and had great hope of something, well, just something more from Anne as she loosens up. But I was cheated there too. Jio skips over much of their relationship, setting it up frightening fast and then visiting for a peek every now and then. I got no real sense of chemistry between them - and because I never really got to know Westry, never spent all that much time with him, I found I didn't trust him. It's hard to care for a protagonist's love affair when you think she's with someone untrustworthy. A lot of this speaks to Anne's own insecurities, of course, but the end result remains.

Then there is the murder. Oh dear me how predictable it all was. I'm not even sure what the point of it all was, except that without it the whole story became quite empty. If Jio had put more time and effort into developing her characters, this could have been a really strong, character-driven novel, one of those coming-of-age novels that really speak to you across ages and oceans. But it's such a quick, light read - and "light" is not a positive in The Bungalow. There were no surprises, no twists, it was all painfully obvious, and Anne's ineffectiveness grew tiring.

As you can see, I didn't like this very much. Only the setting of Bora-Bora made it worth reading - and I did like the glimpse into life for nurses stationed in the area during the war. But as a story, as Anne's story, it was, for me, almost vacuous. Plenty of readers will enjoy this style, this kind of storytelling, but it wasn't for me.]]> 3.96 2011 The Bungalow
author: Sarah Jio
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.96
book published: 2011
rating: 2
read at: 2013/04/09
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: 2013, historical-fiction, removed
review:
In 1942 Anne Calloway is twenty-one, recently graduated with a nursing degree, and happily engaged to Gerard Godfrey, vice president of the bank his father runs. She lives in an affluent neighbourhood of Seattle, only child to a socialite mother with a keen eye on appearances and a quiet but loving father, but she doesn't feel that she fits the mould that other girls of her class happily fulfil, which led her to study nursing for its "gritty rawness". But her best friend Kitty Morgan, who studied nursing with Anne, decides to sign up for the Army Nurse Corps, and on the night of her engagement party, just months before her wedding, Anne decides to follow suit.

Anne is happy with Gerard, but that happiness is tempered by other feelings. She worries that there's no passion between them, and she worries that she's losing respect for him because he won't volunteer like so many others have, and that his influential father - a former senator - has ensured that Gerard won't be drafted either. Everything seems to be happening so fast, and taking a year off in the South Pacific seems like just the thing she needs.

The nurses are shipped off to Bora-Bora, a tropical island in French Polynesia, to work at the hospital there. The American troops stationed there are mostly good-natured and friendly, but Kitty especially seems to quickly pick the ones who worry Anne the most: a young man not much older than them called Lance, and the man in charge himself, Colonel Donahue. Anne herself isn't there to find a man like so many of the nurses seem to be, but she soon finds herself drawn to one young soldier, Westry Green. When they discover an old dilapidated hut in the dense vegetation near the beach, they turn it into their own private hideout.

But the paradise Anne has found in the bungalow with Westry is a transient thing, and when they witness a murder on the beach everything in Anne's life changes, including the friendships Anne always valued most.

I read this primarily because I was looking for a book set in the South Pacific islands, and in terms of the Bora-Bora setting, Jio writes with a great sense of place, time and atmosphere. A beautiful tropical island in the middle of a violent, bloody war - it's a shocking juxtaposition and works admirably. Jio's main strength in writing this novel is the setting, which is strongly captured and resonates with the reader's senses.

However, I have to say that I was disappointed with the novel for several reasons. From the first page, I found Anne rather unlikeable (and she's not meant to be). She comes across as prudish, certainly, but this is the forties. She's a product of her time and her class; it wasn't that. For a heroine who narrates in the first person, Anne never faces herself, never lets us close, and never lets down her guard. It's just the way this is written. In little ways, it seemed to me that Jio struggled to capture a woman of the period, with all their distinctive traits, and make her sympathetic and relatable at the same time. To me, it read like she was trying too hard, or that she never really felt comfortable with Anne herself, never settled inside her bones and her brain in order to convey her convincingly. This, I readily admit, is a purely subjective reading of mine, and after a quick look around the internet, I don't think many people had this problem.

But to be honest, it wasn't just Anne who was stiff and jerky. None of the characters really came alive for me, they all had their feet set in specific tracks that took them through the motions. You never really get to know anyone, in this book. And that was a huge disappointment for me. Two of the worst culprits, aside from Anne herself, were Kitty and Westry. Kitty was perhaps the most successfully drawn character, maintaining some more subtle impressions that the reader picks up on but Anne, in her naiveté, doesn't. But we're still kept at a distance, one that echoes Anne's own - Anne herself never lets herself get close to anyone, certainly no one from her old life, and no one here on the island either.

Westry, the love interest, suffers too. I liked him at first, and had great hope of something, well, just something more from Anne as she loosens up. But I was cheated there too. Jio skips over much of their relationship, setting it up frightening fast and then visiting for a peek every now and then. I got no real sense of chemistry between them - and because I never really got to know Westry, never spent all that much time with him, I found I didn't trust him. It's hard to care for a protagonist's love affair when you think she's with someone untrustworthy. A lot of this speaks to Anne's own insecurities, of course, but the end result remains.

Then there is the murder. Oh dear me how predictable it all was. I'm not even sure what the point of it all was, except that without it the whole story became quite empty. If Jio had put more time and effort into developing her characters, this could have been a really strong, character-driven novel, one of those coming-of-age novels that really speak to you across ages and oceans. But it's such a quick, light read - and "light" is not a positive in The Bungalow. There were no surprises, no twists, it was all painfully obvious, and Anne's ineffectiveness grew tiring.

As you can see, I didn't like this very much. Only the setting of Bora-Bora made it worth reading - and I did like the glimpse into life for nurses stationed in the area during the war. But as a story, as Anne's story, it was, for me, almost vacuous. Plenty of readers will enjoy this style, this kind of storytelling, but it wasn't for me.
]]> <![CDATA[The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas, #7)]]> 15818295 Call Me Irresistible

Lucy Jorik is a champ at not embarrassing her family—not surprising, since her mother is one of the most famous women in the world. But now Lucy has done just that. Instead of saying "I do" to the most perfect man she's ever known, Lucy flees the church and hitches a ride on the back of a beat-up motorcycle with a rough-looking stranger who couldn't be more foreign to her privileged existence. At his beach house on a Great Lakes island, Lucy hopes to find a new direction . . . and unlock the secrets of a man who reveals nothing about himself. But as the hot summer days unfold amid scented breezes and sudden storms, she discovers a passion that could change her life forever.]]> 448 Susan Elizabeth Phillips 006210618X Shannon 3
Hiding in a side alley, Lucy is found by an attractive, wild-looking man on a motorbike who, in minimal speak, offers her a ride. She recognises him from the rehearsal dinner the night before but doesn't know him. Impulsively, with no better options, she takes it and hops on, Lucy imagining herself to be a tough biker girl called Viper - someone totally at odds with her own pearl-wearing, ultra-responsible self.

The biker guy turns out to be a disgusting man called Panda, who grudgingly accepts her offer of a thousand dollars plus expenses to take Lucy with him when he expected her to return to Wynette and her bridegroom. As she slowly catches signs of hidden layers to Panda, she realises that all is not what it seems and he's not the man he's pretending to be. The more pressing concern for Lucy, though, is what to do with her life now. She needs time and space away from her family and responsibilities to figure that out, and Panda inadvertently offers the solution.

This is the companion novel to , which tells the story of what happened with Ted and Lucy's best friend, Meg, back in Wynette Texas during Lucy's disappearance. You can read either one first but Meg's story gives more context to Lucy's, so I recommend reading them in order. I read them back-to-back, and can't help comparing them. They're quite different in tone. Meg's story is as humorous as she is, full of witty banter, funny scenes and irony. Lucy's is a bit more conventional, like she is, and more serious, as Panda is. As such, it's not really as much fun as Call Me Irresistible, and while the plot wasn't predictable at the time I was reading it, overall it was more formulaic for a romance (or chick-lit) novel.

I liked Lucy a lot, but I never quite clicked with her. She had this lovely, calm, polite, elegant side to her that suited her position as well-known and even influential daughter to the president, but while trying to find herself, and possibly thanks to Panda, she also develops this sarcastic, stubborn, argumentative side to her that I'm not totally convinced meshed. She annoyed me more than Meg ever did, and I didn't always understand the way her mind worked. Or didn't, as the case may be. It was too much of a romance structured around misunderstandings and lack of communication, which is quite common in romance, but it's not a structure that I like much. It tends to frustrate me, piss me off even.

Part of the blame lies with Panda, too. He was a much more conventional romance hero, being surly, taciturn, brooding, aggressive, macho. His character is saved by his love of opera and his honest liking for talking to Lucy - it's just that he hides these things, not wanting anyone to know what he's going through (I wasn't aware there was a stigma attached to PTSD), and using it as an excuse to keep people away. Both him and Lucy have a lot of growing up to do, and they do it noisily and even sometimes nastily. Their bickering was sometimes fun but mostly draining.

There are side plots here too, involving a young woman called Bree West and another involving the "Evil Queen", fitness instructor on a popular reality TV show called Fat Island where she yells at and belittles the contestants until they cry. I didn't want to give away much of the plot for this because it takes some interesting turns and I enjoyed not knowing where it was going next.

There were scenes in this book that I loved, scenes that made me want to cry, and scenes that made me smile - not to mention it contains BEEKEEPING! I love bees, honey and everything related to them, so this was a bonus for me. The atmosphere perfectly matches the island setting, and I enjoy how Phillips takes the time to really explore the characters, their lives and dreams and insecurities, as well as the setting. Too often romance novels are light on details; this was meatier and gave me plenty to chew on. The romance side of it, though, wasn't as satisfying - which is why I'm calling this chick-lit too, even though it has a romance structure. Phillips put plenty of time and effort into building chemistry between Lucy and Panda, but it didn't quite hit the mark for me. They just spent so much time antagonising each other without showing enough connection in quieter moments, that for as much as I believed in their feelings for each other, I didn't feel it, which is what I'm always after in a romance novel. I want to feel what the characters feel.

Regardless, I still really enjoyed this novel and it was well suited to Lucy's character, as opposed to Meg's. It's highly entertaining and much more realistic than I normally expect from the romance genre. It might be more serious overall, but it contains enough humour and silliness to balance out the heavier moments. Now that I'm no longer a Susan Eizabeth Phillips virgin, so to speak, I'll definitely be picking up more of her books to read.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.72 2012 The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas, #7)
author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.72
book published: 2012
rating: 3
read at: 2013/04/15
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: romance, tlc-book-tours, 2013, beekeeping, chick-lit, removed
review:
Lucy Jorik, eldest child of the former President of the United States, is minutes away from being married to the most perfect man, Ted Beaudine, in Wynette, Texas, when she realises that she can't do it. With the press clustered around the church, Lucy switches her wedding dress for a choir robe and slips out the back. But she has nowhere to go, no money or ID; she just doesn't feel up to facing her family, Ted's family, the press, everyone's disappointment and the endless questions. She's not quite ready to face up to herself, either. Just who is Lucy Jorik, anyway? What does she want out of life? At thirty-one, the questions finally come and refuse to leave.

Hiding in a side alley, Lucy is found by an attractive, wild-looking man on a motorbike who, in minimal speak, offers her a ride. She recognises him from the rehearsal dinner the night before but doesn't know him. Impulsively, with no better options, she takes it and hops on, Lucy imagining herself to be a tough biker girl called Viper - someone totally at odds with her own pearl-wearing, ultra-responsible self.

The biker guy turns out to be a disgusting man called Panda, who grudgingly accepts her offer of a thousand dollars plus expenses to take Lucy with him when he expected her to return to Wynette and her bridegroom. As she slowly catches signs of hidden layers to Panda, she realises that all is not what it seems and he's not the man he's pretending to be. The more pressing concern for Lucy, though, is what to do with her life now. She needs time and space away from her family and responsibilities to figure that out, and Panda inadvertently offers the solution.

This is the companion novel to , which tells the story of what happened with Ted and Lucy's best friend, Meg, back in Wynette Texas during Lucy's disappearance. You can read either one first but Meg's story gives more context to Lucy's, so I recommend reading them in order. I read them back-to-back, and can't help comparing them. They're quite different in tone. Meg's story is as humorous as she is, full of witty banter, funny scenes and irony. Lucy's is a bit more conventional, like she is, and more serious, as Panda is. As such, it's not really as much fun as Call Me Irresistible, and while the plot wasn't predictable at the time I was reading it, overall it was more formulaic for a romance (or chick-lit) novel.

I liked Lucy a lot, but I never quite clicked with her. She had this lovely, calm, polite, elegant side to her that suited her position as well-known and even influential daughter to the president, but while trying to find herself, and possibly thanks to Panda, she also develops this sarcastic, stubborn, argumentative side to her that I'm not totally convinced meshed. She annoyed me more than Meg ever did, and I didn't always understand the way her mind worked. Or didn't, as the case may be. It was too much of a romance structured around misunderstandings and lack of communication, which is quite common in romance, but it's not a structure that I like much. It tends to frustrate me, piss me off even.

Part of the blame lies with Panda, too. He was a much more conventional romance hero, being surly, taciturn, brooding, aggressive, macho. His character is saved by his love of opera and his honest liking for talking to Lucy - it's just that he hides these things, not wanting anyone to know what he's going through (I wasn't aware there was a stigma attached to PTSD), and using it as an excuse to keep people away. Both him and Lucy have a lot of growing up to do, and they do it noisily and even sometimes nastily. Their bickering was sometimes fun but mostly draining.

There are side plots here too, involving a young woman called Bree West and another involving the "Evil Queen", fitness instructor on a popular reality TV show called Fat Island where she yells at and belittles the contestants until they cry. I didn't want to give away much of the plot for this because it takes some interesting turns and I enjoyed not knowing where it was going next.

There were scenes in this book that I loved, scenes that made me want to cry, and scenes that made me smile - not to mention it contains BEEKEEPING! I love bees, honey and everything related to them, so this was a bonus for me. The atmosphere perfectly matches the island setting, and I enjoy how Phillips takes the time to really explore the characters, their lives and dreams and insecurities, as well as the setting. Too often romance novels are light on details; this was meatier and gave me plenty to chew on. The romance side of it, though, wasn't as satisfying - which is why I'm calling this chick-lit too, even though it has a romance structure. Phillips put plenty of time and effort into building chemistry between Lucy and Panda, but it didn't quite hit the mark for me. They just spent so much time antagonising each other without showing enough connection in quieter moments, that for as much as I believed in their feelings for each other, I didn't feel it, which is what I'm always after in a romance novel. I want to feel what the characters feel.

Regardless, I still really enjoyed this novel and it was well suited to Lucy's character, as opposed to Meg's. It's highly entertaining and much more realistic than I normally expect from the romance genre. It might be more serious overall, but it contains enough humour and silliness to balance out the heavier moments. Now that I'm no longer a Susan Eizabeth Phillips virgin, so to speak, I'll definitely be picking up more of her books to read.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> Cries in the Drizzle 334976
The middle son of three, Sun Guanglin is constantly neglected ignored by his parents and his younger and older brother. Sent away at age six to live with another family, he returns to his parents’ house six years later on the same night that their home burns to the ground, making him even more a black sheep. Yet Sun Guanglin’s status as an outcast, both at home and in his village, places him in a unique position to observe the changing nature of Chinese society, as social dynamics — and his very own family — are changed forever under Communist rule.

With its moving, thoughtful prose, Cries in the Drizzle is a stunning addition to the wide-ranging work of one of China’s most distinguished contemporary writers.]]> 304 Yu Hua 0307279995 Shannon 1 Cries in the Drizzle. I picked it to read for the in October for a few reasons, but none of them are particularly important: I simply wanted to read it for the same reason I want to read anything - to learn more, to experience someone else's life, to open up my own for a new voice, a different perspective, and the hope to be inspired or touched in some way.

Sadly, Yu Hua's fictionalised autobiography became a real slog to read, and at 186 pages (out of 304), I decided to stop trying to read it. One thing was blazingly clear: it wasn't going to improve in the last hundred pages, not for me. Not finishing a book always leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth, but October was a month of reading struggle in general and a book like this was proving to be a real block to recapturing my stride and making progress on other titles. But because this was for a challenge, I wanted to share my thoughts on what I did read, and why it didn't work for me.

Essentially it boils down to the writing as the primary problem; secondly, the story itself. The first is the most subjective, and plenty of readers will love the writing style and connect with it in ways that were simply impossible for me. Set in rural China in the 1960s, Cries in the Drizzle tells the story of an impoverished family through the eyes of its narrator, Sun Guanglin. Guanglin is the middle child of three boys, Sun Guangping and Sun Guangming. His father, Sun Kwangstai, is a horrible man, with a mean temper, a drinking habit and a seemingly complete inability to love others or care for anyone but himself. His mother is a bit of a nonentity, and his grandfather, Sun Youyuan, who lives with them, is self-abasing towards Sun Kwangstai, a bit of a coward and a doddery old man who sits in the corner daydreaming about his dead wife, who was once the daughter of a rich man.

Sun Guanglin was sold to a military officer when he was six, but returns to his home village of Southgate when he's twelve; compared to his real family and life in Southgate, life with Wang Liqiang and his wife was wonderful. It isn't until Part 4 that the narrator speaks with any depth about this time in his life, and I didn't read that far. Divided into sections that deal with chunks or themes in his childhood and adolescence, Sun Guanglin tells stories about his brothers, his parents, the widow his father had a lengthy affair with, his friendships with Su Yu and Su Hang at school, troubles with girls and going through puberty, and the history of his grandfather and great-grandfather, who were stone masons and bridge builders before war, famine and poverty struck.

I tend to be a fairly organised person, and Sun Guanglin's story has no real structure to it, making it hard for me to follow. Even in the midst of a story, he seemed to change direction completely from one paragraph to the next, and gave no indication that this was a relevant tangent to the story he's telling and it'll all come together just wait. It reminded me of my struggle reading John Elder Robison's memoir, . The scattered, unfocused style is much the same, and Hua's storytelling style tends to come across as a bit flimsy, weakly put together, and poorly fleshed out. It is no doubt his style, and some readers will enjoy it, but it's not for me. My brain and Hua's brain just aren't compatible: we think differently, in terms of rhythm and rhyme, like we're two different musical instruments each playing a different song.

There is humour here, and plenty of farce - especially in the stories Guanglin tells of his ancestors; it's comical but not funny. The one thing that does come across strongly is the atmosphere of utter poverty, and the disconnect between the state and the working classes. One of the saddest stories is about the little boy called Lulu, whose mother is arrested and sent to a labour camp for prostitution. Lulu is left behind to fend for himself. A boy of six! There is no other family, no one to care for him or feed him, and while his mother wasn't in the slightest bit nurturing or loving, she at least provided a home for him. I loved her response to the interrogation at the Public Security Bureau: "The clothes you wear, they're issued by the state, and your paychecks too. So long as you're taking care of state business, you're doing your jobs all right. But my vagina belongs to me - it's not government issue. Who I sleep with is my affair, and I can look after my own vagina perfectly well, thank you very much." [pp.134-5]

There are quite a few mini-stories or scenes that touch of the people's alienation from their own bodies, and complete lack of understanding or education around their bodies, their sexuality, anything practical or emotional and psychological of that nature. It's quite sad, and combined with the images of poverty and the sense of these people as being quite disposable and without real value, Cries in the Drizzle paints a pretty bleak picture of communist China. It does maintain its focus on the people, not the politics; you simply glean truisms from the stories of people's lives. I just wish those stories had been easier to follow; the narration is disjointed, and Sun Guanglin's habit of omniscience robs the stories he tells of authenticity: How does he know what happened, what someone was thinking, what Su Yu was feeling as he lay dying? He wasn't there. It's all conjecture, speculation, and this undermines the credibility of his story - especially as it reads like a memoir.

With no plot, there is little direction to this coming-of-age story. There's no forward momentum or impetus. When you have a plotless novel, it's down to the characters to carry the story. In some ways, this being a story about people, the characters are well fleshed out. And yet they always remain caricatures of themselves. There's no real depth or understanding to them. Sun Guanglin's narration remains consistent in this regard: how he talks about people is the same as how he talks about events - from a distance, both all-knowing and superficial. It's perplexing, and frustrating. Annoying, even. Even when people die, when children die - something that, these days, never fails to bring on the waterworks - I was left largely untouched. Cries in the Drizzle failed to connect with me emotionally, and without that connection - on top of a lack of plot and basic structure - I had no reason to keep reading. Time to move on.
]]> 3.73 1993 Cries in the Drizzle
author: Yu Hua
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.73
book published: 1993
rating: 1
read at: 2013/11/02
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: historical-fiction, coming-of-age, 2013, removed
review:
It's rare that I don't finish a book - even when I'm not enjoying a book, I still aim to finish it, I just don't like to leave something unfinished in any facet of my life - but such is the case with Cries in the Drizzle. I picked it to read for the in October for a few reasons, but none of them are particularly important: I simply wanted to read it for the same reason I want to read anything - to learn more, to experience someone else's life, to open up my own for a new voice, a different perspective, and the hope to be inspired or touched in some way.

Sadly, Yu Hua's fictionalised autobiography became a real slog to read, and at 186 pages (out of 304), I decided to stop trying to read it. One thing was blazingly clear: it wasn't going to improve in the last hundred pages, not for me. Not finishing a book always leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth, but October was a month of reading struggle in general and a book like this was proving to be a real block to recapturing my stride and making progress on other titles. But because this was for a challenge, I wanted to share my thoughts on what I did read, and why it didn't work for me.

Essentially it boils down to the writing as the primary problem; secondly, the story itself. The first is the most subjective, and plenty of readers will love the writing style and connect with it in ways that were simply impossible for me. Set in rural China in the 1960s, Cries in the Drizzle tells the story of an impoverished family through the eyes of its narrator, Sun Guanglin. Guanglin is the middle child of three boys, Sun Guangping and Sun Guangming. His father, Sun Kwangstai, is a horrible man, with a mean temper, a drinking habit and a seemingly complete inability to love others or care for anyone but himself. His mother is a bit of a nonentity, and his grandfather, Sun Youyuan, who lives with them, is self-abasing towards Sun Kwangstai, a bit of a coward and a doddery old man who sits in the corner daydreaming about his dead wife, who was once the daughter of a rich man.

Sun Guanglin was sold to a military officer when he was six, but returns to his home village of Southgate when he's twelve; compared to his real family and life in Southgate, life with Wang Liqiang and his wife was wonderful. It isn't until Part 4 that the narrator speaks with any depth about this time in his life, and I didn't read that far. Divided into sections that deal with chunks or themes in his childhood and adolescence, Sun Guanglin tells stories about his brothers, his parents, the widow his father had a lengthy affair with, his friendships with Su Yu and Su Hang at school, troubles with girls and going through puberty, and the history of his grandfather and great-grandfather, who were stone masons and bridge builders before war, famine and poverty struck.

I tend to be a fairly organised person, and Sun Guanglin's story has no real structure to it, making it hard for me to follow. Even in the midst of a story, he seemed to change direction completely from one paragraph to the next, and gave no indication that this was a relevant tangent to the story he's telling and it'll all come together just wait. It reminded me of my struggle reading John Elder Robison's memoir, . The scattered, unfocused style is much the same, and Hua's storytelling style tends to come across as a bit flimsy, weakly put together, and poorly fleshed out. It is no doubt his style, and some readers will enjoy it, but it's not for me. My brain and Hua's brain just aren't compatible: we think differently, in terms of rhythm and rhyme, like we're two different musical instruments each playing a different song.

There is humour here, and plenty of farce - especially in the stories Guanglin tells of his ancestors; it's comical but not funny. The one thing that does come across strongly is the atmosphere of utter poverty, and the disconnect between the state and the working classes. One of the saddest stories is about the little boy called Lulu, whose mother is arrested and sent to a labour camp for prostitution. Lulu is left behind to fend for himself. A boy of six! There is no other family, no one to care for him or feed him, and while his mother wasn't in the slightest bit nurturing or loving, she at least provided a home for him. I loved her response to the interrogation at the Public Security Bureau: "The clothes you wear, they're issued by the state, and your paychecks too. So long as you're taking care of state business, you're doing your jobs all right. But my vagina belongs to me - it's not government issue. Who I sleep with is my affair, and I can look after my own vagina perfectly well, thank you very much." [pp.134-5]

There are quite a few mini-stories or scenes that touch of the people's alienation from their own bodies, and complete lack of understanding or education around their bodies, their sexuality, anything practical or emotional and psychological of that nature. It's quite sad, and combined with the images of poverty and the sense of these people as being quite disposable and without real value, Cries in the Drizzle paints a pretty bleak picture of communist China. It does maintain its focus on the people, not the politics; you simply glean truisms from the stories of people's lives. I just wish those stories had been easier to follow; the narration is disjointed, and Sun Guanglin's habit of omniscience robs the stories he tells of authenticity: How does he know what happened, what someone was thinking, what Su Yu was feeling as he lay dying? He wasn't there. It's all conjecture, speculation, and this undermines the credibility of his story - especially as it reads like a memoir.

With no plot, there is little direction to this coming-of-age story. There's no forward momentum or impetus. When you have a plotless novel, it's down to the characters to carry the story. In some ways, this being a story about people, the characters are well fleshed out. And yet they always remain caricatures of themselves. There's no real depth or understanding to them. Sun Guanglin's narration remains consistent in this regard: how he talks about people is the same as how he talks about events - from a distance, both all-knowing and superficial. It's perplexing, and frustrating. Annoying, even. Even when people die, when children die - something that, these days, never fails to bring on the waterworks - I was left largely untouched. Cries in the Drizzle failed to connect with me emotionally, and without that connection - on top of a lack of plot and basic structure - I had no reason to keep reading. Time to move on.

]]> Marriage Matters 13589102 She barely has time to attend a wedding, let alone plan one, but Chloe has just caught the bouquet. So has her married mother… and her widowed grandmother. Now three generations of women are set to walk down the aisle in one wedding extravaganza...For fans of Emily Giffin and Jennifer Weiner.  
On top of grad school, clinical hours, and part-time work, Chloe is surprised to find a ring on her finger. Sharing the news about the engagement is easy, except with her best friend, Ben. Their relationship has always been platonic...so why is Chloe so afraid he is going to object?

Kristine is successful at running her travel bookstore, but her twenty-five year marriage is on the rocks. When her husband suggests a vow renewal ceremony, she agrees to say I Do...until a tempting employee makes her wonder whether or not she wants to be married at all.

June knows what’s best for her and everyone around her. Given a second chance at love, she’s delighted to plan the family wedding of her dreams. But when June gets a little carried away in her enthusiasm, she risks losing more than the love of her life... she risks losing her family.

In Cynthia Ellingsen’s heartwarming and hilarious novel of first loves, second chances, and unexpected twists, three generations of brides-to-be discover that love is always better as a family affair.]]> 480 Cynthia Ellingsen 0425258009 Shannon 2
Not that any of them take it all that seriously, though they each keep a souvenir rose from the bouquet. Getting on with their lives, Chloe schedules a meeting with a well-established, handsome older psychologist, Dr Geoff Gable, to see if he'll support her application for a prestigious research grant, but the meeting goes badly. When she encounters him at the kids' indoor play centre where she works and discovers he's a single father to a spoilt little girl called Mary Beth, he surprises her by asking her out on a date. She surprises herself by saying yes, then - completely lacking in experience and worried about making a fool of herself - she agrees to go out on a practice date with Ben - a night that ends in a steamy kiss that she's determined to ignore.

Her mother, Kristine, has been married to Kevin for twenty-five years. It's their wedding anniversary, but Kristine is celebrating alone. Kevin's new job forces him to travel almost constantly, and the distance that's grown between them has Kristine worried that her marriage is going to end. It doesn't help that the handsome travel photographer now working at her travel bookshop, Ethan, seems attracted to her. When Ethan's essay wins a competition for the bookshop, he and Kristine are awarded with an expenses-paid trip to Rome, a place Kristine has always wanted to visit. But with Kevin's work hours and his worries over their finances, he's refusing to go with her.

June may be a grandmother, but she's no little old lady. Though, it's true, she is quite little. But she's a sprightly, active widow who hosts clubs and parties at her brownstone house in Chicago, and is entertained by the year-long war she's been engaged in with her neighbour, Charley, a widower of about three years. It started with his interest in his backyard and gardening, and has grown into deliberate acts of sabotage on both their parts. But June's pre-occupation sparks an interest in her lady friends, who see a handsome single man and a conquest. Now June is up in arms against her friends and takes her spying to new heights.

As Chloe gets deeper into a relationship with Geoff while worrying about how to tell Ben that he proposed, Kristine has agreed to a vow renewal ceremony with Kevin, all while feeling that such an event isn't going to fix their marriage at all. And June herself has some happy news, and a big new wedding to plan. As the wedding date approaches, though, tensions grow and doubts multiply, and June's new promise not to meddle and interfere with her family anymore may be about to backfire with disastrous consequences.

Like many people, I enjoy a good chick-lit novel, a romance that's light on angst and sex but with more humour and silliness than you usually get from romance (a romantic comedy, in other words). It's the relationships side of these novels that I enjoy, as much as the silly misunderstandings, the humour or the growth of the characters as they figure things out. Marriage Matters definitely has that side of things down pat. It is entertaining at times, especially June's side of the story, and Chloe goes through some good maturing, though she never quite seemed able to articulate what was so obvious to everyone else. Kristine's side of the story was the most realistic, a story that will no doubt feel all-too familiar to many people who've been married as long as she has. But I have to say that I struggled a bit with this book, for a few reasons.

Firstly, the three different narratives is a device I usually enjoy, but here it kept moving onto a different character right when I was enjoying what was happening with another. And some key scenes - scenes that I was really interested in witnessing as they happened, that is - often occurred "off stage" so to speak, and are shared by being told to another character or in a quick flashback, making the women's emotions feel, well, second-hand. Clearly, taken individually you'd get a chance to get to know each woman so much better, and their stories would have been told rather differently in such a format. As it was, they felt a bit superficial to me. I never really understood them and I couldn't say that I knew much about them. I only knew what I was told in the here-and-now. And June and Kristine, especially, were a bit too stereotypical for my liking. June was a bit unreal, to be honest. I had a hard time even picturing her. She just didn't seem like a woman her age (how old was she? I'm not sure. Late sixties, early seventies? I can't remember).

Having the three entwined narratives also made for quite a long book, which is my second point. It just seemed to drag on a bit, and in such a disjointed manner too that it was hard to get momentum and find the flow. It moved around in time a fair bit too, and that was hard to keep track of. And once the big triple wedding is decided upon, it became almost crowded.

That's my third reason for not liking this very much. I'm not a big fan of weddings. In fact I like to avoid them as much as possible. I have watched a few episodes of Four Weddings and it tends to make me angry - not just because of how mean the women are towards each other, but also for the irrelevant and old traditions they blindly follow. Marriage Matters is no different in that regard. These women have pretty, ah, conservative and traditional ideas for a wedding. Which is fine, really, each to their own. Your wedding should be what you want it to be, right? Except of course, here it is the wedding June wants, and Chloe just agrees to everything and Kristine just looks sick because she hasn't told anyone she thinks her marriage is over. Really it just comes down to the sad fact that I got bored. I find listening to people's wedding plans pretty boring, especially when they're the same-old thing as everyone else's. (I strongly object to the cliched idea that all women want to get married and all women imagined their dream wedding when they were little girls - what a crock of shit.) To be honest though, the title should have been enough to warn me. I just thought it would be more fun than it was.

All of these things overshadowed the parts that I did enjoy - like Chloe's first meeting with Geoff, that was fun. I found myself getting really angry with Chloe for not facing up to Geoff's expectations of her, which I'm sure was the point, as is the way you feel about Mary Beth, who's just horrible. There's a great scene actually, one of the ones I enjoyed, that highlights it:

"You look beautiful," he repeated. Looping an arm around her shoulder, Geoff pulled her in close. Chloe thought he was going to kiss her, but Mary Beth made short work of that idea.
"Daddy!" Ripping off a patent leather shoe, she flung it at Geoff's face. It hit him square in the jaw, just missing Chloe.
The other kids at the park gave up a collective gasp. Mary Beth was obviously In. For. It.
Dropping Chloe's hand, Geoff took a step away. "I'm so sorry. Mary Beth must feel threatened." Walking toward the jungle gym, he called, "Honey, let's go get that ice cream."
Ice cream seemed to be Geoff's go-to parenting move. And it was all wrong, as the women at the park were quick to point out.
"Ice cream? Hell no." A heavyset mother glared at Geoff. "Don't you set a bad example in front of my kids." The woman shook a thick finger at her daughter, as if her daughter had done something wrong. "You don't get ice cream after that."
The other parents nodded. Delighted to have everyone's attention, Mary Beth took off her other shoe and whipped it at Chloe. Catching it, she considered her options.
Kids needed security. They needed boundaries. Even though Chloe wanted Geoff to like her, letting Mary Beth run wild wasn't helping anyone. Especially not Mary Beth. "Geoff, can I please have your permission to get your daughter under control?"
"Fine." His expression was as petulant as Mary Beth's. "I don't know what to do anymore." [p.169]


Suffice it to say, I never really liked Geoff at all. As Chloe pointed out early on, for a psychologist, he makes a terrible father. But then she just feels bad for him and lets him use her as a nanny - which Ben points out to her and which she, naturally, takes badly.

After all the drama and goings-on in the book, the ending was rather pat. And needless to say, rather predictable as well. It all worked out so nicely - and no that's not a spoiler, this is chick-lit after all: they don't come with sad endings. I was left feeling a mix of things. Sad that I didn't get to know Kristine better, as she was the character I was most interested in (Chloe second), and relieved that it was finally all over. Not a great feeling to have when you finish a book. Aside from my dissatisfaction with the split narrative, it's well written and there're some really entertaining moments, but overall it was sadly lacking. I can see others enjoying this a lot more, especially if you enjoy wedding planning, the antics of a sprightly grandmother and women who take forever to realise that their male best friend is really in love with them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 3.78 2013 Marriage Matters
author: Cynthia Ellingsen
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.78
book published: 2013
rating: 2
read at: 2013/05/15
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: chick-lit, fiction, 2013, removed
review:
Chloe is only twenty-five and studying post-grad psychology; she has no time or interest in finding a boyfriend let alone anything more serious than that. Between her classes, her research assignments, clinical hours and her part-time job, she barely has time to spend with her best friend and neighbour, Ben. But at a weekend wedding she attends with her mother, Kristine, and her maternal grandmother, June, Chloe happens to catch the bouquet. So does Kristine. And June.

Not that any of them take it all that seriously, though they each keep a souvenir rose from the bouquet. Getting on with their lives, Chloe schedules a meeting with a well-established, handsome older psychologist, Dr Geoff Gable, to see if he'll support her application for a prestigious research grant, but the meeting goes badly. When she encounters him at the kids' indoor play centre where she works and discovers he's a single father to a spoilt little girl called Mary Beth, he surprises her by asking her out on a date. She surprises herself by saying yes, then - completely lacking in experience and worried about making a fool of herself - she agrees to go out on a practice date with Ben - a night that ends in a steamy kiss that she's determined to ignore.

Her mother, Kristine, has been married to Kevin for twenty-five years. It's their wedding anniversary, but Kristine is celebrating alone. Kevin's new job forces him to travel almost constantly, and the distance that's grown between them has Kristine worried that her marriage is going to end. It doesn't help that the handsome travel photographer now working at her travel bookshop, Ethan, seems attracted to her. When Ethan's essay wins a competition for the bookshop, he and Kristine are awarded with an expenses-paid trip to Rome, a place Kristine has always wanted to visit. But with Kevin's work hours and his worries over their finances, he's refusing to go with her.

June may be a grandmother, but she's no little old lady. Though, it's true, she is quite little. But she's a sprightly, active widow who hosts clubs and parties at her brownstone house in Chicago, and is entertained by the year-long war she's been engaged in with her neighbour, Charley, a widower of about three years. It started with his interest in his backyard and gardening, and has grown into deliberate acts of sabotage on both their parts. But June's pre-occupation sparks an interest in her lady friends, who see a handsome single man and a conquest. Now June is up in arms against her friends and takes her spying to new heights.

As Chloe gets deeper into a relationship with Geoff while worrying about how to tell Ben that he proposed, Kristine has agreed to a vow renewal ceremony with Kevin, all while feeling that such an event isn't going to fix their marriage at all. And June herself has some happy news, and a big new wedding to plan. As the wedding date approaches, though, tensions grow and doubts multiply, and June's new promise not to meddle and interfere with her family anymore may be about to backfire with disastrous consequences.

Like many people, I enjoy a good chick-lit novel, a romance that's light on angst and sex but with more humour and silliness than you usually get from romance (a romantic comedy, in other words). It's the relationships side of these novels that I enjoy, as much as the silly misunderstandings, the humour or the growth of the characters as they figure things out. Marriage Matters definitely has that side of things down pat. It is entertaining at times, especially June's side of the story, and Chloe goes through some good maturing, though she never quite seemed able to articulate what was so obvious to everyone else. Kristine's side of the story was the most realistic, a story that will no doubt feel all-too familiar to many people who've been married as long as she has. But I have to say that I struggled a bit with this book, for a few reasons.

Firstly, the three different narratives is a device I usually enjoy, but here it kept moving onto a different character right when I was enjoying what was happening with another. And some key scenes - scenes that I was really interested in witnessing as they happened, that is - often occurred "off stage" so to speak, and are shared by being told to another character or in a quick flashback, making the women's emotions feel, well, second-hand. Clearly, taken individually you'd get a chance to get to know each woman so much better, and their stories would have been told rather differently in such a format. As it was, they felt a bit superficial to me. I never really understood them and I couldn't say that I knew much about them. I only knew what I was told in the here-and-now. And June and Kristine, especially, were a bit too stereotypical for my liking. June was a bit unreal, to be honest. I had a hard time even picturing her. She just didn't seem like a woman her age (how old was she? I'm not sure. Late sixties, early seventies? I can't remember).

Having the three entwined narratives also made for quite a long book, which is my second point. It just seemed to drag on a bit, and in such a disjointed manner too that it was hard to get momentum and find the flow. It moved around in time a fair bit too, and that was hard to keep track of. And once the big triple wedding is decided upon, it became almost crowded.

That's my third reason for not liking this very much. I'm not a big fan of weddings. In fact I like to avoid them as much as possible. I have watched a few episodes of Four Weddings and it tends to make me angry - not just because of how mean the women are towards each other, but also for the irrelevant and old traditions they blindly follow. Marriage Matters is no different in that regard. These women have pretty, ah, conservative and traditional ideas for a wedding. Which is fine, really, each to their own. Your wedding should be what you want it to be, right? Except of course, here it is the wedding June wants, and Chloe just agrees to everything and Kristine just looks sick because she hasn't told anyone she thinks her marriage is over. Really it just comes down to the sad fact that I got bored. I find listening to people's wedding plans pretty boring, especially when they're the same-old thing as everyone else's. (I strongly object to the cliched idea that all women want to get married and all women imagined their dream wedding when they were little girls - what a crock of shit.) To be honest though, the title should have been enough to warn me. I just thought it would be more fun than it was.

All of these things overshadowed the parts that I did enjoy - like Chloe's first meeting with Geoff, that was fun. I found myself getting really angry with Chloe for not facing up to Geoff's expectations of her, which I'm sure was the point, as is the way you feel about Mary Beth, who's just horrible. There's a great scene actually, one of the ones I enjoyed, that highlights it:

"You look beautiful," he repeated. Looping an arm around her shoulder, Geoff pulled her in close. Chloe thought he was going to kiss her, but Mary Beth made short work of that idea.
"Daddy!" Ripping off a patent leather shoe, she flung it at Geoff's face. It hit him square in the jaw, just missing Chloe.
The other kids at the park gave up a collective gasp. Mary Beth was obviously In. For. It.
Dropping Chloe's hand, Geoff took a step away. "I'm so sorry. Mary Beth must feel threatened." Walking toward the jungle gym, he called, "Honey, let's go get that ice cream."
Ice cream seemed to be Geoff's go-to parenting move. And it was all wrong, as the women at the park were quick to point out.
"Ice cream? Hell no." A heavyset mother glared at Geoff. "Don't you set a bad example in front of my kids." The woman shook a thick finger at her daughter, as if her daughter had done something wrong. "You don't get ice cream after that."
The other parents nodded. Delighted to have everyone's attention, Mary Beth took off her other shoe and whipped it at Chloe. Catching it, she considered her options.
Kids needed security. They needed boundaries. Even though Chloe wanted Geoff to like her, letting Mary Beth run wild wasn't helping anyone. Especially not Mary Beth. "Geoff, can I please have your permission to get your daughter under control?"
"Fine." His expression was as petulant as Mary Beth's. "I don't know what to do anymore." [p.169]


Suffice it to say, I never really liked Geoff at all. As Chloe pointed out early on, for a psychologist, he makes a terrible father. But then she just feels bad for him and lets him use her as a nanny - which Ben points out to her and which she, naturally, takes badly.

After all the drama and goings-on in the book, the ending was rather pat. And needless to say, rather predictable as well. It all worked out so nicely - and no that's not a spoiler, this is chick-lit after all: they don't come with sad endings. I was left feeling a mix of things. Sad that I didn't get to know Kristine better, as she was the character I was most interested in (Chloe second), and relieved that it was finally all over. Not a great feeling to have when you finish a book. Aside from my dissatisfaction with the split narrative, it's well written and there're some really entertaining moments, but overall it was sadly lacking. I can see others enjoying this a lot more, especially if you enjoy wedding planning, the antics of a sprightly grandmother and women who take forever to realise that their male best friend is really in love with them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> <![CDATA[Taking Chances (Taking Chances, #1)]]> 15739018 Her first year away is turning out to be nearly perfect, but one weekend of giving in to heated passion will change everything.

Eighteen-year-old Harper has grown up under the thumb of her career marine father. Ready to live life her own way and to experience things she's only ever heard of from the jarheads in her father's unit, she's on her way to college at San Diego State University.

Thanks to her new roommate, Harper is introduced to a world of parties, gorgeous guys, family, and emotions. She finds herself being torn in two as she quickly falls in love with both her new boyfriend, Brandon, and her roommate's brother, Chase. Despite their dangerous looks and histories, both men adore Harper and would do anything for her, including taking a step back if it would mean she'd be happy.]]> 466 Molly McAdams Shannon 1
When the semester starts, she meets more of Bree and Chase's crowd of friends, including one who hadn't been at the party: Brandon Taylor. A tall, large, muscled guy, he's surprisingly sweet and tender and is instantly attracted to Harper. Unlike Chase and Bree, who are independently wealthy from an inheritance from their grandparents, Brandon earns money from the underground fights he continuously wins. As he and Harper start seeing each other, Harper is surprised by how antagonistic and strangely Chase is behaving. It doesn't help that for as much as she loves Brandon, she's still strongly attracted to Chase.

Bree's parents, Claire and Robert, welcome her into their family as another daughter and Harper spends every Sunday with them, a family day. There she sees another side of Chase, a funny, relaxed, caring Chase, an artist who works at a tattoo parlour and designs a tattoo for Harper: orange lillies, her favourite flower. Seeing this side of Chase she starts to believe him when he tells her he quit drinking and sleeping around, but he also does her head in with his erratic behaviour, friendly one moment, aloof the next.

It's at New Year's that Harper succumbs to her desires and makes one huge mistake - a mistake she can't entirely regret. But it changes everything, and no one could have predicted the events that follow, least of all Harper.

I just have to say - in fact it's dying to come out, I can't stop it: WOW. Just. Wow. This isn't going to be pretty, and I've barely had time for it all to sink in so as I go my rating will probably decrease even further, but I just have to let my thoughts out. They need some fresh air after being trapped in this book for the last couple of days or so.

This is - I don't even know what to say. Unbelievable? Only if I were being ironic. It's the kind of self-indulgent melodrama that I deplore, that not only doesn't appeal to me, it makes me feel pretty scornful. I mean, Wow, the Angst! The Drama! Four hundred and fifty-four pages of self-indulgent melodrama! In many ways this book reminded me of two other self-published novels that hit the Big Time and scored a publishing contract: Jamie McGuire's and by SC Stephens. If you've read those, you'll have an idea of what to expect from Taking Chances, story- and character-wise at least. Like the guy from Beautiful Disaster, Brandon fights in the underground fight scene. Both Brandon and Chase have lots of tattoos, and Harper, well, let's just say she gets married awfully young. As in Thoughtless, Harper is with one guy while lusting after the other. At least Harper came clean with her mistake after less time than it took Kiera, and with less self-flagellation about it too. But really, I felt like these were all the same book, more or less.

While I do agree that there are some great authors out there who started out self-publishing, or at least, some great books that were self-published first, the one thing that Taking Chances desperately needed above all else, was a good, experienced editor. It wasn't painful to read, in that sense, but it really needed to be trimmed back, pruned to rid it of the endless descriptive fillers - I'll give you an example in a bit - and shortened, and it really needed someone to fix the grammar and punctuation. McAdams has the most bizarre and awkward habit of using run-on sentences: linking clauses, or two distinct sentences, with just a comma, so much so that it was sometimes hard to follow the direction of a sentence. What she should have done was use my friend the semicolon (;) or simply end the first sentence and start a new one, even if it was a short one. (Incidentally, she used a semicolon ONCE - yes, I do notice these things - and it was used incorrectly, which just makes me wince.) It makes it harder to read because the flow is shot to pieces, and I had to fix it in my head as I read it. Her dialogue punctuation was off too; McAdams has another habit of using a comma instead of a full-stop before dialogue. I can open this book at any page and find examples, so here you go:

I floundered for a minute trying to remember everything that he and Derek had said, "Because you ... isn't that ... wasn't that why you wanted me to leave?" [p.138]


That should have read: "I floundered for a minute trying to remember everything that he and Derek had said[FULL STOP!]" - and then start the dialogue. There are so many of these, it's like they kept breeding.

Here're some random examples of run-on sentences:

Right away Kale threw a punch, Brandon leaned back letting it pass an inch from his face, his smile never faltering. [p.88]

First thing Brandon did was thank Bree for her hand in my earlier outfit, she winked at both of us before running back to the side of some new guy named Ryan. [p.99]

I smiled and rushed back to Brandon's room. I had just grabbed my suit when Brandon's phone chimed, I glanced at his desk where it sat and continued to take my shirt off. [p.99]

I slipped off my shorts and tank top, grabbing the gray and white button down shirt he'd been wearing last night, I pulled it on leaving all but one of the middle buttons undone. [p.127]


I think you get the picture, but I could honestly find multiple examples for you on every page. There were other mistakes, of the typo variety, but at least McAdams used "led" instead of "lead" - that would have been one error too many for me! You can also get an idea from these snippets of how focused the narrative is on including all the little details, no matter how irrelevant (or rather, everything becomes relevant when really it's not). I've noticed the same thing in other self-published books, including (especially) Thoughtless.

The other thing Taking Chances does a lot of is perpetuate stereotypes and clichés, and it's clearly written with the Bible Belt in mind. I don't want to include any spoilers in this review, but I'll just say that for all the premarital sex (and excessive drinking) going around, when consequences catch up with Harper, there's never any question about what course of action she's going to take. This speaks to a sad lack of character development with Harper - with all of them, really, but she's the narrator going through all these big changes and important decisions, and yet not only did I never feel like I understood her, she never really had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Certainly, there are consequences, but there happens to be one very convenient factor in Harper's life: EVERYONE LOVES HER. Seriously. Seriously??

Yes, seriously. She has two gorgeous (so we're told) young men desperate for her love, Bree's a loyal friend and her parents informally adopt her. Her best friend from the base, Jason Carter, is also in love with her, everyone likes her and everyone accepts her and everyone just conveniently embraces the directions her life takes. It's hard to elucidate on that last point without giving things away, but let's just say that her life is a tad unusual, the way it all turns out. It's all just highly unbelievable, because sad to say, people just don't agree all that much. We're all opinionated, have our own motives, our own experiences to draw upon, and so on. It's great that everyone was so supportive and understanding of her, but really, how likely is that? Possible, sure, but not very realistic.

Brandon and Chase love Harper so much, but who is she, really? (And who are they?? We never really get any deeper than their surfaces.) What are her interests? (nothing) What does she want out of life? (um, nothing? except to be loved?) To me she came across as bland and uninteresting. I couldn't relate to her, especially the casual way she tossed aside her tertiary education like it was the least important thing in the world. After one year. Just like that. Oh she can afford it, but what would she do with an education? She's just a woman, after all. Only once does she think that she shouldn't jump into a relationship but should take the time to "find herself" and figure out what she wants, but she tosses that aside just as easily. It's not that, within the scope of her life, she isn't a strong person with solid morals and a loving temperament. It's that, and I hate to say this, it's that her world is small, narrow-minded and downright tacky. She's far too young - emotionally, mentally, age-wise - for the things she takes on, and for all that she's happy with the way her life has turned out, I couldn't get over the uncomplicated tawdry tackiness of it all. It wouldn't have been so tacky if it weren't so self-indulgent, but that's the quality that adds to the sense of Harper's narrow world view. Her story never goes beyond what's happening to her, that's all her world is. Everything revolves around Harper, and I got more than a bit sick of it.

Actually, I got a bit tired of the whole story, to be honest. It just kept going on and on and after the sudden and dramatic (as always) events of chapter 13 (around the 272-page mark), it definitely lost steam and its "oomph" died with a whimper. After that, I just kept doggedly turning the pages because I'd made a commitment to read and review it - something I agreed to because I had actually bought this as an e-book last year, only I hate reading things electronically and I knew I'd never read it otherwise. (And this paperback is rather lovely to hold! About the best thing I can say about it.) Oh and it lost major points for the pregnancy/labour/child birth descriptions, which clearly showed that the author has little experience with any of it - and I'm sorry, but after all the emphasis on how huge the pregnancy belly was, and how big the baby was, you can't then tell us the baby weighed only six pounds at birth. That's pretty small for a boy these days. Mine was nearly 9 pounds when he was born (over 4kgs), and that's pretty average these days. 6 pounds for a boy baby?? Ha. None of that added up.

It's at this point that I have to drop my rating from an initial 2 out of 5 (it was okay) to a measly one (it was crap). I always feel bad giving a book a "crap" rating but I have to be honest with you. There were moments when I was entertained by this story, almost against my will, and I definitely started reading it with that rosy blush of anticipation that you get when you start a new book, only to have it severely doused when it became clear this story wasn't going to improve. It's a story of second chances, on the surface anyway, but really it's a generic story of how much everyone loves Harper and how easily they forgive her for her stupid mistakes. It's clearly not my kind of story, even if it hadn't been so self-indulgent. It's like really cheesy reality TV, of the Kardashian/Jersey Shore variety, and reality TV is my least favourite thing. I suppose these days this book fits the "New Adult" label, but I refuse to use it so I'm calling this "lite adult romance" with some kind of grammatical dyslexia.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.85 2012 Taking Chances (Taking Chances, #1)
author: Molly McAdams
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.85
book published: 2012
rating: 1
read at: 2013/05/21
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: romance, fiction, 2013, self-published, tlc-book-tours, not-worth-it, removed
review:
Harper was raised by her father, an officer in the Marine Corps who kept her under his cold and distant thumb. Having been brought up - and schooled, in her father's office - on the base in North Carolina, her friends and pseudo-siblings are all "jarheads" who have taught her how to defend herself but not much else. Now she's eighteen and ready to start university, she's moving to San Diego in California to finally start a life of her own. Her roommate in the dorms is Breanna, a lively, fun-loving girl who, on Harper's first day, takes her to a party at the share-house her older brother Chase rents. Harper's first experience of a real student party with dirty dancing and booze doesn't impress her much, and neither does Chase, a womaniser who drinks too much and speaks aggressively to her.

When the semester starts, she meets more of Bree and Chase's crowd of friends, including one who hadn't been at the party: Brandon Taylor. A tall, large, muscled guy, he's surprisingly sweet and tender and is instantly attracted to Harper. Unlike Chase and Bree, who are independently wealthy from an inheritance from their grandparents, Brandon earns money from the underground fights he continuously wins. As he and Harper start seeing each other, Harper is surprised by how antagonistic and strangely Chase is behaving. It doesn't help that for as much as she loves Brandon, she's still strongly attracted to Chase.

Bree's parents, Claire and Robert, welcome her into their family as another daughter and Harper spends every Sunday with them, a family day. There she sees another side of Chase, a funny, relaxed, caring Chase, an artist who works at a tattoo parlour and designs a tattoo for Harper: orange lillies, her favourite flower. Seeing this side of Chase she starts to believe him when he tells her he quit drinking and sleeping around, but he also does her head in with his erratic behaviour, friendly one moment, aloof the next.

It's at New Year's that Harper succumbs to her desires and makes one huge mistake - a mistake she can't entirely regret. But it changes everything, and no one could have predicted the events that follow, least of all Harper.

I just have to say - in fact it's dying to come out, I can't stop it: WOW. Just. Wow. This isn't going to be pretty, and I've barely had time for it all to sink in so as I go my rating will probably decrease even further, but I just have to let my thoughts out. They need some fresh air after being trapped in this book for the last couple of days or so.

This is - I don't even know what to say. Unbelievable? Only if I were being ironic. It's the kind of self-indulgent melodrama that I deplore, that not only doesn't appeal to me, it makes me feel pretty scornful. I mean, Wow, the Angst! The Drama! Four hundred and fifty-four pages of self-indulgent melodrama! In many ways this book reminded me of two other self-published novels that hit the Big Time and scored a publishing contract: Jamie McGuire's and by SC Stephens. If you've read those, you'll have an idea of what to expect from Taking Chances, story- and character-wise at least. Like the guy from Beautiful Disaster, Brandon fights in the underground fight scene. Both Brandon and Chase have lots of tattoos, and Harper, well, let's just say she gets married awfully young. As in Thoughtless, Harper is with one guy while lusting after the other. At least Harper came clean with her mistake after less time than it took Kiera, and with less self-flagellation about it too. But really, I felt like these were all the same book, more or less.

While I do agree that there are some great authors out there who started out self-publishing, or at least, some great books that were self-published first, the one thing that Taking Chances desperately needed above all else, was a good, experienced editor. It wasn't painful to read, in that sense, but it really needed to be trimmed back, pruned to rid it of the endless descriptive fillers - I'll give you an example in a bit - and shortened, and it really needed someone to fix the grammar and punctuation. McAdams has the most bizarre and awkward habit of using run-on sentences: linking clauses, or two distinct sentences, with just a comma, so much so that it was sometimes hard to follow the direction of a sentence. What she should have done was use my friend the semicolon (;) or simply end the first sentence and start a new one, even if it was a short one. (Incidentally, she used a semicolon ONCE - yes, I do notice these things - and it was used incorrectly, which just makes me wince.) It makes it harder to read because the flow is shot to pieces, and I had to fix it in my head as I read it. Her dialogue punctuation was off too; McAdams has another habit of using a comma instead of a full-stop before dialogue. I can open this book at any page and find examples, so here you go:

I floundered for a minute trying to remember everything that he and Derek had said, "Because you ... isn't that ... wasn't that why you wanted me to leave?" [p.138]


That should have read: "I floundered for a minute trying to remember everything that he and Derek had said[FULL STOP!]" - and then start the dialogue. There are so many of these, it's like they kept breeding.

Here're some random examples of run-on sentences:

Right away Kale threw a punch, Brandon leaned back letting it pass an inch from his face, his smile never faltering. [p.88]

First thing Brandon did was thank Bree for her hand in my earlier outfit, she winked at both of us before running back to the side of some new guy named Ryan. [p.99]

I smiled and rushed back to Brandon's room. I had just grabbed my suit when Brandon's phone chimed, I glanced at his desk where it sat and continued to take my shirt off. [p.99]

I slipped off my shorts and tank top, grabbing the gray and white button down shirt he'd been wearing last night, I pulled it on leaving all but one of the middle buttons undone. [p.127]


I think you get the picture, but I could honestly find multiple examples for you on every page. There were other mistakes, of the typo variety, but at least McAdams used "led" instead of "lead" - that would have been one error too many for me! You can also get an idea from these snippets of how focused the narrative is on including all the little details, no matter how irrelevant (or rather, everything becomes relevant when really it's not). I've noticed the same thing in other self-published books, including (especially) Thoughtless.

The other thing Taking Chances does a lot of is perpetuate stereotypes and clichés, and it's clearly written with the Bible Belt in mind. I don't want to include any spoilers in this review, but I'll just say that for all the premarital sex (and excessive drinking) going around, when consequences catch up with Harper, there's never any question about what course of action she's going to take. This speaks to a sad lack of character development with Harper - with all of them, really, but she's the narrator going through all these big changes and important decisions, and yet not only did I never feel like I understood her, she never really had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Certainly, there are consequences, but there happens to be one very convenient factor in Harper's life: EVERYONE LOVES HER. Seriously. Seriously??

Yes, seriously. She has two gorgeous (so we're told) young men desperate for her love, Bree's a loyal friend and her parents informally adopt her. Her best friend from the base, Jason Carter, is also in love with her, everyone likes her and everyone accepts her and everyone just conveniently embraces the directions her life takes. It's hard to elucidate on that last point without giving things away, but let's just say that her life is a tad unusual, the way it all turns out. It's all just highly unbelievable, because sad to say, people just don't agree all that much. We're all opinionated, have our own motives, our own experiences to draw upon, and so on. It's great that everyone was so supportive and understanding of her, but really, how likely is that? Possible, sure, but not very realistic.

Brandon and Chase love Harper so much, but who is she, really? (And who are they?? We never really get any deeper than their surfaces.) What are her interests? (nothing) What does she want out of life? (um, nothing? except to be loved?) To me she came across as bland and uninteresting. I couldn't relate to her, especially the casual way she tossed aside her tertiary education like it was the least important thing in the world. After one year. Just like that. Oh she can afford it, but what would she do with an education? She's just a woman, after all. Only once does she think that she shouldn't jump into a relationship but should take the time to "find herself" and figure out what she wants, but she tosses that aside just as easily. It's not that, within the scope of her life, she isn't a strong person with solid morals and a loving temperament. It's that, and I hate to say this, it's that her world is small, narrow-minded and downright tacky. She's far too young - emotionally, mentally, age-wise - for the things she takes on, and for all that she's happy with the way her life has turned out, I couldn't get over the uncomplicated tawdry tackiness of it all. It wouldn't have been so tacky if it weren't so self-indulgent, but that's the quality that adds to the sense of Harper's narrow world view. Her story never goes beyond what's happening to her, that's all her world is. Everything revolves around Harper, and I got more than a bit sick of it.

Actually, I got a bit tired of the whole story, to be honest. It just kept going on and on and after the sudden and dramatic (as always) events of chapter 13 (around the 272-page mark), it definitely lost steam and its "oomph" died with a whimper. After that, I just kept doggedly turning the pages because I'd made a commitment to read and review it - something I agreed to because I had actually bought this as an e-book last year, only I hate reading things electronically and I knew I'd never read it otherwise. (And this paperback is rather lovely to hold! About the best thing I can say about it.) Oh and it lost major points for the pregnancy/labour/child birth descriptions, which clearly showed that the author has little experience with any of it - and I'm sorry, but after all the emphasis on how huge the pregnancy belly was, and how big the baby was, you can't then tell us the baby weighed only six pounds at birth. That's pretty small for a boy these days. Mine was nearly 9 pounds when he was born (over 4kgs), and that's pretty average these days. 6 pounds for a boy baby?? Ha. None of that added up.

It's at this point that I have to drop my rating from an initial 2 out of 5 (it was okay) to a measly one (it was crap). I always feel bad giving a book a "crap" rating but I have to be honest with you. There were moments when I was entertained by this story, almost against my will, and I definitely started reading it with that rosy blush of anticipation that you get when you start a new book, only to have it severely doused when it became clear this story wasn't going to improve. It's a story of second chances, on the surface anyway, but really it's a generic story of how much everyone loves Harper and how easily they forgive her for her stupid mistakes. It's clearly not my kind of story, even if it hadn't been so self-indulgent. It's like really cheesy reality TV, of the Kardashian/Jersey Shore variety, and reality TV is my least favourite thing. I suppose these days this book fits the "New Adult" label, but I refuse to use it so I'm calling this "lite adult romance" with some kind of grammatical dyslexia.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> The Emperor of Paris 13330591 278 C.S. Richardson 0385670907 Shannon 3 arrondissement, in a flatiron building called the cake slice - ironic, perhaps, because this was a bakery, not a patisserie. Here, Emile Notre-Dame, the thinnest baker in Paris, brings his Italian wife, Immacolata in 1901. In 1908 they finally have a child, a son called Octavio, who inherits his father's dyslexia. Immacolata, after praying for years for a child, now finds herself in the grip of post-partum depression, the price, she feels, for asking for a child. When Octavio is still a child, his father enlists in the army after the great war (world war one) breaks out, and together he and his mother - with the help of the blind watchmaker, Grenelle, who lives upstairs - run the bakery. Years later, Emile is returned to them, a shadow of the man they used to know, who barely recognises his family and spends his time sitting in a chair in the cellar where the bread is baked.

After a time, Octavio begins to take his father on walks through the city, a city he's barely ever ventured into in his life before. Over time, they gain confidence, and start going to the Louvre every Sunday. Unable to read, they continue the story-telling tradition that Emile used to do with Octavio when he was little, creating stories behind the photos on the front pages of newspapers. It is there, in the galleries, that Isabeau Normande first sees Octavio.

Isabeau was born to merchant parents who were obsessed with appearances. When, as a little girl, Isabeau suffered an accident in the kitchen and was left with a scar on her face, her mother teaches her to always cover her head with a scarf, and to avoid being seen. She finds work in the basement of the Louvre, repairing old paintings from accumulated smoke and grime, and spends all her free time in the park, reading, losing herself in books. It is there that Octavio sees her for the first time, noticing her because he has a drawing of her hung up in the bakery - a sketch he bought from Henri who owns a bookstall along the river, from whom he's been buying books - he cannot read them, but he loves the colours, and the apartment above the bakery, the stairs as well, are overflowing with books.

It is through a book, an anonymous gift from Octavio to Isabeau, that brings them together, on a fateful day when a fire guts Octavio's home, making the summer streets of Paris snow with paper. The story begins here, and ends here, but it is not a story about plot. I'm not sure you could sum-up just what it is about, except to say it is an artistic piece, a stylistic novel mirroring the art - paintings and literature especially - that are, in a way, its focus. This is echoed in the beautiful design of the book: a small hardcover (the size they used to be, a long time ago), in a lovely read stamped with genie shoes on the front (the one book Octavio owned from the time of his birth was an illustrated Arabian Nights that his father gave him, and it recurs throughout the book - in fact, it's how Isabeau finds Octavio the day his bakery burns). The soft, slightly thick pages are deckled (unevenly cut), and the old-fashioned endpapers perfectly complement the lovely, textured dustjacket:



Everything about this book complements it, including - especially - the language, which is some ways is main focus of the novel, if not the story. It is written in a fable-like, omniscient style, like the dignified, elegant voice-over narrator to a quirky art-house period film. Words are chosen economically, precisely, sparsely, painting a picture in a few deft strokes -

One might have missed the soggy handkerchief, the stained headband, the flushed cheeks; such was the rehearsed swing of Pascal's walking stick. Here was a gentleman, one could assume, overdressed for the weather but still at ease with himself and his world, wanting for nothing. For Pascal Normande was in the business of illusion. [p.29]


I have to admire this kind of prose, which is so deft, so neat, so expressive and contained. But for as much as I admire it, and as much as it can conjure up colourful images in my head, it is still a style that renders me a passive reader, which is something I'm not so keen on. I could only work with what I was given, and outside of those images, the world of this story was a vague grey blank for the most part. The only thing I was actively engaged with, in reading this book, was in keeping track of events.

It is told mostly chronologically, but the story of Octavio and Isabeau's childhoods are interrupted by scenes in the lives of Henri the bookseller and Jacob the impoverished, homeless artist (the one who does the drawing of Isabeau reading), as well as short scenes from a single day in the "present", the day on which the bakery burns, which consist mostly of Isabeau's hasty journey across Paris. Keeping track of the different time periods and the cast of characters' stories (made trickier by their habit of jumping forward in age), was a struggle at times, though it would be a breeze on a second reading.

While the language is both simple and elegant, plain and sumptuous, it has a minimalist feel to it due to the absence of dialogue punctuation. I've read several books that employ this device - one I'm never exactly sure as to the authors' reasons for it - and this was definitely one of the most successful: it was always easy to tell when someone was speaking, and who was speaking, which isn't always the case.

One of the things I appreciated the most were the descriptions of books, and the pleasure Emile and Octavio - who couldn't read - got from books. When Octavio begins his almost obsessive book-buying habit (something I could entirely relate to), he doesn't choose books based on their stories or titles, but on what colour they are, and the descriptions he imagines his deceased father giving them:

Red, the thinnest baker might say. The colour of passion, my boy, of beating hearts and action. They're the bold ones, the reds, sure to be full of adventure. Or we could pick the blue ones, like the wide sea and those mermaids singing us home. Or perhaps the green of the trees in our Tuileries.

Octavio knew his father would assign each colour he saw. The golds would contain tales of treasure hunters and lost cities, the purples would conjur [sic] magic and spirits and fairy worlds. He wondered if his father would have considered black a colour at all. Regardless, he would have started with the red ones.

[...] Imagine a woman, my boy. Watch her as she steps out of a pastry shop. She does not look your way but, oh yes, you see her. Her face, her mouth, the curve of those red lips. You cannot resist. You wonder what would it be like to kiss those lips. As red as raspberries. You bump against her and find yourself sitting in the gutter. The red of raspberries, my boy. That is the colour we'll start with. [p.235]


It is this love for books, as much as the love for art, good food and companionship, that gives this book its heart. Everything is linked, connected - take that final description in the quote above, which is how Octavio's parents met, though this time he imagines it as a deliberate meeting, rather than a purely accidental one. The description of the books continues in a visual image that I found mesmerising:

The reds gathered in the attic, two or three at a time. Soon stacks of books threatened to block the doorways, as though a bricklayer was using them to slowly close up the apartment. When the walls could hold no more, the floors took over. In turn they began to sag, creaking bitterly under the weight. The blues descended the spiral staircase, half a dozen books to a step. By the time they reached the bottom tread, Octavio had moved on to the greens. These filled the kitchen. Piled under the sink, wedged behind the taps, thrown on top of the cupboards, jammed into the drawers, displayed on the table, three deep along the windowsill. Books in shades of gold followed the slope from bathroom to bedroom. A platform of editions bound in grey cloth raised the bed enough that Octavio needed four thick volumes as a stool to reach the mattress. He removed the mirrored door of the armoire so the purple ones might fit inside. The drawer where he had slept as a baby now barely closed, filled as it was with books the colour of wine. There were ones that flapped in the rafters: Octavio tied lengths of rope from one beam to the next and hung them open, gently nesting the rope into the gutter of each volume. [pp.239-240]


When I began reading The Emperor of Paris, I fell into the writing easily and found it light and graceful, like a dance or a landscape. I enjoy stories told like a fable, tracing the generations in leaps and bounds, lighting up a scene here and there that speaks the loudest, so that the pieces accumulate in your mind into something larger, more comprehensive, than the individual scenes. And I didn't mind the lack of focus - in fact, I enjoyed the slower, more gently telling of Octavio's family and his and Isabeau's childhoods and early adulthoods, than the actual plot, the "present day" snippets that show Octavio's bakery burning and Isabeau running through Paris with the book, Arabian Nights in her hand - these snippets are interspersed throughout without warning, in an effort to build and maintain momentum and tension, yet I found them the weakest part of the novel. They were like annoying interruptions, ones that jolted the rhythm of the rest of the story, and it always took me a moment to catch my bearings and figure out where I was now and who the story was talking about. I think I would have preferred it to just gradually build toward their meeting, in a more linear fashion, especially because, in terms of the "past", it took so long for the two to even learn of each others' existence.

This left me with entirely mixed feelings about the book, by the end. In fact, after enjoying the first half so much, the story seemed to deflate like a soufflé at the end - all air and no substance (the cooking analogies are hard to resist, when so much of the story revolves around baking and uses many analogies of its own). I certainly enjoy books like this more in the moment, while reading, than afterwards, especially when it is so hard to grasp the disparate elements of such a stylistic novel, to say what it was that captivated you, and what left you unaffected. All I can say is that, with The Emperor of Paris, style won out over plot, and fable-like story-telling won out over the unexplored beginnings of romance between the two young adults, Octavio and Isabeau, and this left me ultimately less satisfied than I would otherwise have been.]]> 3.56 2012 The Emperor of Paris
author: C.S. Richardson
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.56
book published: 2012
rating: 3
read at: 2013/01/14
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: historical-fiction, 2013, removed
review:
Richardson's second novel transports the reader to Paris in the early twentieth century, to the Boulangerie Notre-Dame, a bakery in the eighth arrondissement, in a flatiron building called the cake slice - ironic, perhaps, because this was a bakery, not a patisserie. Here, Emile Notre-Dame, the thinnest baker in Paris, brings his Italian wife, Immacolata in 1901. In 1908 they finally have a child, a son called Octavio, who inherits his father's dyslexia. Immacolata, after praying for years for a child, now finds herself in the grip of post-partum depression, the price, she feels, for asking for a child. When Octavio is still a child, his father enlists in the army after the great war (world war one) breaks out, and together he and his mother - with the help of the blind watchmaker, Grenelle, who lives upstairs - run the bakery. Years later, Emile is returned to them, a shadow of the man they used to know, who barely recognises his family and spends his time sitting in a chair in the cellar where the bread is baked.

After a time, Octavio begins to take his father on walks through the city, a city he's barely ever ventured into in his life before. Over time, they gain confidence, and start going to the Louvre every Sunday. Unable to read, they continue the story-telling tradition that Emile used to do with Octavio when he was little, creating stories behind the photos on the front pages of newspapers. It is there, in the galleries, that Isabeau Normande first sees Octavio.

Isabeau was born to merchant parents who were obsessed with appearances. When, as a little girl, Isabeau suffered an accident in the kitchen and was left with a scar on her face, her mother teaches her to always cover her head with a scarf, and to avoid being seen. She finds work in the basement of the Louvre, repairing old paintings from accumulated smoke and grime, and spends all her free time in the park, reading, losing herself in books. It is there that Octavio sees her for the first time, noticing her because he has a drawing of her hung up in the bakery - a sketch he bought from Henri who owns a bookstall along the river, from whom he's been buying books - he cannot read them, but he loves the colours, and the apartment above the bakery, the stairs as well, are overflowing with books.

It is through a book, an anonymous gift from Octavio to Isabeau, that brings them together, on a fateful day when a fire guts Octavio's home, making the summer streets of Paris snow with paper. The story begins here, and ends here, but it is not a story about plot. I'm not sure you could sum-up just what it is about, except to say it is an artistic piece, a stylistic novel mirroring the art - paintings and literature especially - that are, in a way, its focus. This is echoed in the beautiful design of the book: a small hardcover (the size they used to be, a long time ago), in a lovely read stamped with genie shoes on the front (the one book Octavio owned from the time of his birth was an illustrated Arabian Nights that his father gave him, and it recurs throughout the book - in fact, it's how Isabeau finds Octavio the day his bakery burns). The soft, slightly thick pages are deckled (unevenly cut), and the old-fashioned endpapers perfectly complement the lovely, textured dustjacket:



Everything about this book complements it, including - especially - the language, which is some ways is main focus of the novel, if not the story. It is written in a fable-like, omniscient style, like the dignified, elegant voice-over narrator to a quirky art-house period film. Words are chosen economically, precisely, sparsely, painting a picture in a few deft strokes -

One might have missed the soggy handkerchief, the stained headband, the flushed cheeks; such was the rehearsed swing of Pascal's walking stick. Here was a gentleman, one could assume, overdressed for the weather but still at ease with himself and his world, wanting for nothing. For Pascal Normande was in the business of illusion. [p.29]


I have to admire this kind of prose, which is so deft, so neat, so expressive and contained. But for as much as I admire it, and as much as it can conjure up colourful images in my head, it is still a style that renders me a passive reader, which is something I'm not so keen on. I could only work with what I was given, and outside of those images, the world of this story was a vague grey blank for the most part. The only thing I was actively engaged with, in reading this book, was in keeping track of events.

It is told mostly chronologically, but the story of Octavio and Isabeau's childhoods are interrupted by scenes in the lives of Henri the bookseller and Jacob the impoverished, homeless artist (the one who does the drawing of Isabeau reading), as well as short scenes from a single day in the "present", the day on which the bakery burns, which consist mostly of Isabeau's hasty journey across Paris. Keeping track of the different time periods and the cast of characters' stories (made trickier by their habit of jumping forward in age), was a struggle at times, though it would be a breeze on a second reading.

While the language is both simple and elegant, plain and sumptuous, it has a minimalist feel to it due to the absence of dialogue punctuation. I've read several books that employ this device - one I'm never exactly sure as to the authors' reasons for it - and this was definitely one of the most successful: it was always easy to tell when someone was speaking, and who was speaking, which isn't always the case.

One of the things I appreciated the most were the descriptions of books, and the pleasure Emile and Octavio - who couldn't read - got from books. When Octavio begins his almost obsessive book-buying habit (something I could entirely relate to), he doesn't choose books based on their stories or titles, but on what colour they are, and the descriptions he imagines his deceased father giving them:

Red, the thinnest baker might say. The colour of passion, my boy, of beating hearts and action. They're the bold ones, the reds, sure to be full of adventure. Or we could pick the blue ones, like the wide sea and those mermaids singing us home. Or perhaps the green of the trees in our Tuileries.

Octavio knew his father would assign each colour he saw. The golds would contain tales of treasure hunters and lost cities, the purples would conjur [sic] magic and spirits and fairy worlds. He wondered if his father would have considered black a colour at all. Regardless, he would have started with the red ones.

[...] Imagine a woman, my boy. Watch her as she steps out of a pastry shop. She does not look your way but, oh yes, you see her. Her face, her mouth, the curve of those red lips. You cannot resist. You wonder what would it be like to kiss those lips. As red as raspberries. You bump against her and find yourself sitting in the gutter. The red of raspberries, my boy. That is the colour we'll start with. [p.235]


It is this love for books, as much as the love for art, good food and companionship, that gives this book its heart. Everything is linked, connected - take that final description in the quote above, which is how Octavio's parents met, though this time he imagines it as a deliberate meeting, rather than a purely accidental one. The description of the books continues in a visual image that I found mesmerising:

The reds gathered in the attic, two or three at a time. Soon stacks of books threatened to block the doorways, as though a bricklayer was using them to slowly close up the apartment. When the walls could hold no more, the floors took over. In turn they began to sag, creaking bitterly under the weight. The blues descended the spiral staircase, half a dozen books to a step. By the time they reached the bottom tread, Octavio had moved on to the greens. These filled the kitchen. Piled under the sink, wedged behind the taps, thrown on top of the cupboards, jammed into the drawers, displayed on the table, three deep along the windowsill. Books in shades of gold followed the slope from bathroom to bedroom. A platform of editions bound in grey cloth raised the bed enough that Octavio needed four thick volumes as a stool to reach the mattress. He removed the mirrored door of the armoire so the purple ones might fit inside. The drawer where he had slept as a baby now barely closed, filled as it was with books the colour of wine. There were ones that flapped in the rafters: Octavio tied lengths of rope from one beam to the next and hung them open, gently nesting the rope into the gutter of each volume. [pp.239-240]


When I began reading The Emperor of Paris, I fell into the writing easily and found it light and graceful, like a dance or a landscape. I enjoy stories told like a fable, tracing the generations in leaps and bounds, lighting up a scene here and there that speaks the loudest, so that the pieces accumulate in your mind into something larger, more comprehensive, than the individual scenes. And I didn't mind the lack of focus - in fact, I enjoyed the slower, more gently telling of Octavio's family and his and Isabeau's childhoods and early adulthoods, than the actual plot, the "present day" snippets that show Octavio's bakery burning and Isabeau running through Paris with the book, Arabian Nights in her hand - these snippets are interspersed throughout without warning, in an effort to build and maintain momentum and tension, yet I found them the weakest part of the novel. They were like annoying interruptions, ones that jolted the rhythm of the rest of the story, and it always took me a moment to catch my bearings and figure out where I was now and who the story was talking about. I think I would have preferred it to just gradually build toward their meeting, in a more linear fashion, especially because, in terms of the "past", it took so long for the two to even learn of each others' existence.

This left me with entirely mixed feelings about the book, by the end. In fact, after enjoying the first half so much, the story seemed to deflate like a soufflé at the end - all air and no substance (the cooking analogies are hard to resist, when so much of the story revolves around baking and uses many analogies of its own). I certainly enjoy books like this more in the moment, while reading, than afterwards, especially when it is so hard to grasp the disparate elements of such a stylistic novel, to say what it was that captivated you, and what left you unaffected. All I can say is that, with The Emperor of Paris, style won out over plot, and fable-like story-telling won out over the unexplored beginnings of romance between the two young adults, Octavio and Isabeau, and this left me ultimately less satisfied than I would otherwise have been.
]]> I Take You 17912542 The next alluring novel from internationally bestselling author Nikki Gemmell-a companion to The Bride Stripped Bare and With My Body-the final installment in the captivating "Bride" trilogy

"One of the few truly original voices to emerge in a long time." -Time Out New York

Internationally bestselling author Nikki Gemmell has spent the last decade exploring the hidden lives of women. First, in The Bride Stripped Bare, she offered readers a glimpse into the life of a new bride, a young woman whose dark and sensual double life shocked readers. Next, in With My Body, Gemmell showed the world a wife and mother, a woman marked by memories of lost love and deep secrets. Now, in the final installment in the "Bride" trilogy, Gemmell plunges into the mind frame that With My Body concluded with-the story of a woman safe within her marriage, yet bursting with desire and the will to act upon it.

Under her Chanel suit and designer lingerie, Connie Carven is no longer the typical banker's wife. When Cliff's horrible skiing accident shifts the balance of their relationship, Connie becomes a willing submissive to her husband's every desire. Cliff is eager to explore new, and troubling, avenues of passion. Connie, ever the dutiful wife, follows wherever he leads. While at first she enjoys a perverse sense of freedom within the ever-tightening bonds of her marriage, Cliff's dark and seductive desires soon consume her entirely. She finds herself surrendering to an act that will forever remind her that she belongs to her husband alone-to be unlocked only by him, whenever he pleases.
But, it is also this act that awakens Connie from the numbness that has taken over her life. In the communal garden of her posh Notting Hill home she meets Mel and discovers the thrill of true intimacy…and the price of risking everything for it.]]> 314 Nikki Gemmell 0732297788 Shannon 3 Lady Chatterley's Lover, I Take You introduces readers to blonde waif Connie Carven, once a model and now the dutiful trophy wife to an aggressively successful American banker, Cliff. After a youth of unsatisfying sexual encounters with men who never tried to awaken her, Connie finds herself married to a man she can't even stand kissing. But after his horrific skiing accident leaves him paralysed from the waist down, Connie submits herself further to the role of submissive wife by sharing her dormant desires with Cliff, opening the door to a new and more sexually exciting relationship - as long as Connie believes in her role in it.

Yet her newfound love for her husband is a façade that begins to crumble after he pushes their dominant-submissive relationship a step too far, and emptiness fills Connie. It isn't until she sees the new gardener in the communal garden of her home in London's Notting Hill that something comes alive in her. Mel is a seemingly taciturn, aloof man, separated from his wife and wishing nothing more than to be left alone. His first impression of Connie is replaced by one of concern and growing love after he sees what her husband has done to her, and their illicit relationship sets Connie free.

Or does it? She is still the wife of a dominant, domineering man who, now more than ever, needs to retain control over everything in his sphere of influence - especially his wife. Connie's presence by his side is not something he's willing to lose; and Connie has little experience fending for herself or living a life of low income. Can she find the courage to make a new life for herself? Can she find the courage to realise what she really wants in life, and give herself permission to grab hold of it?

Forbidden love. Repressed desire. A coming-of-age fairy-tale. The interesting thing about this retelling of Lawrence's classic novel is how it starts. Gemmell turns the current popularity for dominant-submissive, sexual-awakening stories on its head by presenting a couple who have already established such a relationship, and then drawing the heroine away from it. Unlike other erotic-based novels, in which the female narrators discover their own latent desires and then find the courage to explore them and express themselves in positive ways, we meet Connie in what seems like such a relationship, but which slowly dissolves into a different kind of repression.

Instead of Connie suppressing her submissive desires, she has embraced them for the sake of her relationship with her husband, Cliff. She has unconsciously recognised in him the need for control, for keeping up a particular appearance that will benefit him in his work; and in herself, a self-sacrificing element to her personality that ensures she will martyr herself - both to prove his family wrong in their judgement of her as a gold-digger, and to prove to herself that she made the right decision in marrying him.

Her cage and she has constructed it, of course. With her obedience, her compliance, her truth. Cliff continues reading the paper, lost in his mergers. Connie now gazing out the window, thinking of Picasso, how he said that all women were goddesses or doormats and if they weren't doormats at the start of the relationship then he'd do his level best to crack them into it. Herself? She's never been any threat. It's why his tight, moneyed family likes her, she knows that. One of those sweet ones who will not rock the boat; a pleaser, primed for a rubbing out; instinctively his family of strong women recognized it despite the slight niggle of a gold-digger, she can sense it; but she's sure they're like that with anyone who comes into their fold. [p.75]


She's allowed herself to be subsumed by Cliff and is torn between the genuine excitement and thrill and sensual pleasure she gets from their new sexual relationship - not to mention the first orgasms she's ever had - and a new feeling of coldness, rawness, of being "skinned by her husband." She's lost herself and is only now realising it.

Cliff wants to participate with an observer's coolness, wants others to admire, covet. Draws power from envy and adulation; is smooth with it, silvery with his thatch of greying hair, buoyant. Has always seen his hedge fund clients as objects rather than people - fools, sops, muppets - and Connie wonders how far this extends into other areas of his life.

To her it means almost nothing except that she gives herself to him, as the good wife. It is a kind of love, what he allows her to do now; no, it is love, she tells herself. Generosity of spirit, finally, yes; to be fulfilled by other men. The small price to pay: that he be allowed to watch. Control, yes, always that, for he is a controlling man. Pure head, no belly, no heart. And she is his adornment, his most beautiful trinket, her pliancy and servitude his triumph. [p.81]


It's been many years since I read Lady Chatterley's Lover - a class at university, though I can't remember which one - and I wasn't terribly impressed at the time. A bit obvious, I found it; can't help that dose of presentism sometimes. But I really don't remember it well, so I can't give any kind of proper comparison or analysis in that respect. Yet, the symbolism is present and correct, and still obvious. Cliff: moneyed, controlling, abhorring of nature, children, all things untamed and out of his control. Tight, heartless, cold, all those adjectives that position him clearly in the mechanical spectrum.

Contrast Cliff with Mel, the gardener, who is posited as "a real man". Not afraid to get his hands dirty, lives amongst the plants and trees and weather, understands the true patterns of life and death. Has no money, possibly not much education, but is everything Cliff is not. He represents nature. Connie, meanwhile, has been dazzled by wealth and glitz, comfort and ease, but has lost her soul in the process. Her shift back to reality, to the natural world and the path to discovering her real self, is a journey akin to many other fables that position the modern, industrial world as the antithesis, or enemy even, to the natural one. It's not original, no; it's as old as industry itself. So where does Gemmell break free of the tropes and make her own mark?

Possibly, it's in the language. Gemmell's prose - written in third-person present tense (and we all know that the use of present tense is a pet peeve of mine these days) - is both lyrical and poetic, but also oddly awkward and at times even jarring. You could say it is reflective of Connie's life and journey itself, but I'm never convinced that it's all that consciously done (in the past I've been impressed by McCarthy's and Saramago's , applauding their prose as artistically creative and reflective of the nature of the stories themselves, only to discover afterwards that those authors always write like that - so I've learned not to give authors too much credit, sadly).

There were passages that I loved, lines that spoke volumes and that grasped the heart of the matter. At other times the prose style seemed almost an obstacle to real understanding, character development and a kind of integrity that stories like this need in order to feel grounded. I Take You never quite planted its feet firmly on the ground; it always seemed to float in way that gave it a daydreaming quality, a lack of realism even. But there were also great insights, not just into human nature but into the wider worlds of art, storytelling and truth. This one gave me pause for thought:

Are all female narratives of empowerment narratives of escape? [p.197]


I Take You began strongly, with a great sense of atmosphere, suspense and that thrill of uncertainty that invigorates the reading experience: you assume things that turn out not to be true, and you have to reassess quite often in the first, oh, hundred pages. But the drawn-out ending lacked a sense of oomph. The mystery was gone, the thrill and eroticism completely vanished, and it ends up a simple narrative of "will she won't she" leave Cliff. My interest in Connie - as a person, as a woman trying to write her own narrative after years of living someone else's - waned. In truth, she reminded me rather vividly of a Christine Feehan-esque insipid romantic heroine. She is bland, not just lacking in strength of character but in personality as well. She ended up Cliff's beautiful but simple wife because she really is simple. She comes across as frighteningly naïve, and while it's true that the story wouldn't quite work if she wasn't, it still makes it a little, well, dull.

There are strong, important and interesting themes in this novel, but for me their impact was overshadowed by the plot, the under-developed characters, even the prose, which was hit-and-miss for me. Each short chapter is prefaced by a quote from Virginia Woolf, and the one thing Gemmell did succeed with here, was to make me want to tackle Woolf again and see if age, experience, maturity and so on, would give me a better experience with her work than I had at university. The fact that my final thoughts on this novel centre around a completely different author will tell you that I didn't find I Take You as satisfying as I'd hoped, but I did find it thought-provoking and while I didn't love it, it has its merits.]]> 2.79 2013 I Take You
author: Nikki Gemmell
name: Shannon
average rating: 2.79
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/10/19
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: 2013, fiction, retelling, erotica, australian-women-writers, aww2013, removed
review:
A contemporary retelling of DH Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover, I Take You introduces readers to blonde waif Connie Carven, once a model and now the dutiful trophy wife to an aggressively successful American banker, Cliff. After a youth of unsatisfying sexual encounters with men who never tried to awaken her, Connie finds herself married to a man she can't even stand kissing. But after his horrific skiing accident leaves him paralysed from the waist down, Connie submits herself further to the role of submissive wife by sharing her dormant desires with Cliff, opening the door to a new and more sexually exciting relationship - as long as Connie believes in her role in it.

Yet her newfound love for her husband is a façade that begins to crumble after he pushes their dominant-submissive relationship a step too far, and emptiness fills Connie. It isn't until she sees the new gardener in the communal garden of her home in London's Notting Hill that something comes alive in her. Mel is a seemingly taciturn, aloof man, separated from his wife and wishing nothing more than to be left alone. His first impression of Connie is replaced by one of concern and growing love after he sees what her husband has done to her, and their illicit relationship sets Connie free.

Or does it? She is still the wife of a dominant, domineering man who, now more than ever, needs to retain control over everything in his sphere of influence - especially his wife. Connie's presence by his side is not something he's willing to lose; and Connie has little experience fending for herself or living a life of low income. Can she find the courage to make a new life for herself? Can she find the courage to realise what she really wants in life, and give herself permission to grab hold of it?

Forbidden love. Repressed desire. A coming-of-age fairy-tale. The interesting thing about this retelling of Lawrence's classic novel is how it starts. Gemmell turns the current popularity for dominant-submissive, sexual-awakening stories on its head by presenting a couple who have already established such a relationship, and then drawing the heroine away from it. Unlike other erotic-based novels, in which the female narrators discover their own latent desires and then find the courage to explore them and express themselves in positive ways, we meet Connie in what seems like such a relationship, but which slowly dissolves into a different kind of repression.

Instead of Connie suppressing her submissive desires, she has embraced them for the sake of her relationship with her husband, Cliff. She has unconsciously recognised in him the need for control, for keeping up a particular appearance that will benefit him in his work; and in herself, a self-sacrificing element to her personality that ensures she will martyr herself - both to prove his family wrong in their judgement of her as a gold-digger, and to prove to herself that she made the right decision in marrying him.

Her cage and she has constructed it, of course. With her obedience, her compliance, her truth. Cliff continues reading the paper, lost in his mergers. Connie now gazing out the window, thinking of Picasso, how he said that all women were goddesses or doormats and if they weren't doormats at the start of the relationship then he'd do his level best to crack them into it. Herself? She's never been any threat. It's why his tight, moneyed family likes her, she knows that. One of those sweet ones who will not rock the boat; a pleaser, primed for a rubbing out; instinctively his family of strong women recognized it despite the slight niggle of a gold-digger, she can sense it; but she's sure they're like that with anyone who comes into their fold. [p.75]


She's allowed herself to be subsumed by Cliff and is torn between the genuine excitement and thrill and sensual pleasure she gets from their new sexual relationship - not to mention the first orgasms she's ever had - and a new feeling of coldness, rawness, of being "skinned by her husband." She's lost herself and is only now realising it.

Cliff wants to participate with an observer's coolness, wants others to admire, covet. Draws power from envy and adulation; is smooth with it, silvery with his thatch of greying hair, buoyant. Has always seen his hedge fund clients as objects rather than people - fools, sops, muppets - and Connie wonders how far this extends into other areas of his life.

To her it means almost nothing except that she gives herself to him, as the good wife. It is a kind of love, what he allows her to do now; no, it is love, she tells herself. Generosity of spirit, finally, yes; to be fulfilled by other men. The small price to pay: that he be allowed to watch. Control, yes, always that, for he is a controlling man. Pure head, no belly, no heart. And she is his adornment, his most beautiful trinket, her pliancy and servitude his triumph. [p.81]


It's been many years since I read Lady Chatterley's Lover - a class at university, though I can't remember which one - and I wasn't terribly impressed at the time. A bit obvious, I found it; can't help that dose of presentism sometimes. But I really don't remember it well, so I can't give any kind of proper comparison or analysis in that respect. Yet, the symbolism is present and correct, and still obvious. Cliff: moneyed, controlling, abhorring of nature, children, all things untamed and out of his control. Tight, heartless, cold, all those adjectives that position him clearly in the mechanical spectrum.

Contrast Cliff with Mel, the gardener, who is posited as "a real man". Not afraid to get his hands dirty, lives amongst the plants and trees and weather, understands the true patterns of life and death. Has no money, possibly not much education, but is everything Cliff is not. He represents nature. Connie, meanwhile, has been dazzled by wealth and glitz, comfort and ease, but has lost her soul in the process. Her shift back to reality, to the natural world and the path to discovering her real self, is a journey akin to many other fables that position the modern, industrial world as the antithesis, or enemy even, to the natural one. It's not original, no; it's as old as industry itself. So where does Gemmell break free of the tropes and make her own mark?

Possibly, it's in the language. Gemmell's prose - written in third-person present tense (and we all know that the use of present tense is a pet peeve of mine these days) - is both lyrical and poetic, but also oddly awkward and at times even jarring. You could say it is reflective of Connie's life and journey itself, but I'm never convinced that it's all that consciously done (in the past I've been impressed by McCarthy's and Saramago's , applauding their prose as artistically creative and reflective of the nature of the stories themselves, only to discover afterwards that those authors always write like that - so I've learned not to give authors too much credit, sadly).

There were passages that I loved, lines that spoke volumes and that grasped the heart of the matter. At other times the prose style seemed almost an obstacle to real understanding, character development and a kind of integrity that stories like this need in order to feel grounded. I Take You never quite planted its feet firmly on the ground; it always seemed to float in way that gave it a daydreaming quality, a lack of realism even. But there were also great insights, not just into human nature but into the wider worlds of art, storytelling and truth. This one gave me pause for thought:

Are all female narratives of empowerment narratives of escape? [p.197]


I Take You began strongly, with a great sense of atmosphere, suspense and that thrill of uncertainty that invigorates the reading experience: you assume things that turn out not to be true, and you have to reassess quite often in the first, oh, hundred pages. But the drawn-out ending lacked a sense of oomph. The mystery was gone, the thrill and eroticism completely vanished, and it ends up a simple narrative of "will she won't she" leave Cliff. My interest in Connie - as a person, as a woman trying to write her own narrative after years of living someone else's - waned. In truth, she reminded me rather vividly of a Christine Feehan-esque insipid romantic heroine. She is bland, not just lacking in strength of character but in personality as well. She ended up Cliff's beautiful but simple wife because she really is simple. She comes across as frighteningly naïve, and while it's true that the story wouldn't quite work if she wasn't, it still makes it a little, well, dull.

There are strong, important and interesting themes in this novel, but for me their impact was overshadowed by the plot, the under-developed characters, even the prose, which was hit-and-miss for me. Each short chapter is prefaced by a quote from Virginia Woolf, and the one thing Gemmell did succeed with here, was to make me want to tackle Woolf again and see if age, experience, maturity and so on, would give me a better experience with her work than I had at university. The fact that my final thoughts on this novel centre around a completely different author will tell you that I didn't find I Take You as satisfying as I'd hoped, but I did find it thought-provoking and while I didn't love it, it has its merits.
]]> <![CDATA[The Registry (The Registry, #1)]]> 16285057 From Book 1:

Welcome to a safe and secure new world, where beauty is bought and sold, and freedom is the ultimate crime

The Registry saved the country from collapse, but stability has come at a price. In this patriotic new America, girls are raised to be brides, sold at auction to the highest bidder. Boys are raised to be soldiers, trained to fight and never question orders.

Nearly eighteen, beautiful Mia Morrissey excitedly awaits the beginning of her auction year. But a warning from her married older sister raises dangerous questions. Now, instead of going up on the block, Mia is going to escape to Mexico—and the promise of freedom.

All Mia wants is to control her own destiny—a brave and daring choice that will transform her into an enemy of the state, pursued by powerful government agents, ruthless bounty hunters, and a cunning man determined to own her . . . a man who will stop at nothing to get her back.

]]> 336 Shannon Stoker 0062271725 Shannon 4 3.19 2013 The Registry (The Registry, #1)
author: Shannon Stoker
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.19
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/06/13
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: tlc-book-tours, ya, speculative-fiction, dystopian, 2013, removed
review:

]]> <![CDATA[I Have The Right To Destroy Myself]]> 797192 I don't encourage murder. I have no interest in one person killing another. I only want to draw out morbid desires, imprisoned deep in the unconscious. This lust, once freed, starts growing. Their imaginations run free, and they soon discover their potential... They are waiting for someone like me.

A spectral, nameless narrator haunts the lost and wounded of big-city Seoul, suggesting solace in suicide. Wandering through the bright lights of their high-urban existence, C and K are brothers who fall in love with the same woman - Se-yeon. As their lives intersect, they tear at each other in a struggle to find connection in their fast-paced, atomized world.

Dreamlike and cinematic, I Have the Right to Destroy Myself brilliantly affirms Young-ha Kim as Korea's leading young literary master.]]> 119 Young-ha Kim 0156030802 Shannon 2 I Have the Right to Destroy Myself has an unusual job. He seeks out people - or lets them come to him - who need help, who are in a rough spot, who contain within them the germ of death but who need just a bit of help getting there. His clients kill themselves, and his kind of therapy helps them do it. He's no murderer - in that he has never killed anyone himself, he's never passed over the bottle of pills or slit any wrists - but he's there, with them, in their final hour. Someone to say goodbye to perhaps. At the end of each "job", he takes a trip, sees another European country - he must make a lot of money from this "career".

He styles himself as a kind of god, or a god in the making. He seeks to give these poor souls a voice, and writes a novel recording their stories - and their deaths. And so we learn of Se-yeon, also known as Judith because of her resemblance to the Judith in - at least, that is how C sees her when he walks into his apartment after his mother's funeral to find his younger brother, K, having sex with her on his lounge room floor. Se-yeon/Judith is a runaway, an abused teen being constantly taken advantage of. She possibly has an addiction to sex, which also bore her, and seems to be a compulsive liar. She almost always has a lollipop in her mouth - making sex with her dangerous unless you didn't mind losing an eye, or so C thinks. Both brothers are sleeping with her, but neither of them seems to really care about her - but both are lost when she dies.

C is an artist who works with video, and for an upcoming exhibition at a local gallery he meets a performance artist, Mimi, who's never been filmed or photographed and who uses her naked body to paint canvases. She agrees to let C film her and create a piece of video art to complement her own live performance, but seeing herself on film robs her of her soul and she too seeks death.

The narrator, meanwhile, takes a trip to Prague where he meets a young, cynical woman at a museum, looking at Klimt's painting of Judith, and starts one of his short holiday affairs with her. She only drinks Coke, lots and lots of Coke, and sees water as poison. Finally she tells him the story of why she can't drink water, a shocking and possibly true story that deeply unsettles him. But he writes his novel, prints it out and submits it to a publisher only with a kind of memorial sentiment.

When I finish a job, I travel. When I come back I write about the client and our time together. Through this act of creation, I strive to become more like a god. There are only two ways to be a god: through creation or murder.

Not all executed contracts become stories. Only clients who are worth the effort are reborn through my words. This part of my work is painful. But this arduous process bears witness to my sympathy and love for my clients. [p.10]


This was Kim's first novel, published back in 1996, and was received very well apparently. For myself, it was just plain disappointing. I loved the beginning, it started with such promise and a deep and eery atmosphere - that sensation of possibility, of speculation, of wondering and feeling like you're on the edge of something dark, Murakami-style. I would have loved a bit of magical realism or something, to give it that kind of edge. Instead it turned out very pedestrian and rather dull.

The narrator was the only mildly interesting character, though the woman he sleeps with in Europe was rather curious too, in a manic, obsessive kind of way (she was a bit scary to be honest). You never really understand these people or even what exactly is going on. It's not that the story isn't told with the right details in the right places or that the non-linear structure is confusing - it isn't - but it just, ironically perhaps, lacked soul to me. It was superficial, aiming at the kind of writing that says a lot with few words, but failing to make any real connection or insightful commentary. I couldn't have cared less about these people, though I did feel sad for them, in a detached kind of way. The superfluous details in a "tell" style - and the narrator's habit of linking everything to famous old (European) paintings - seemed to be trying to get across a kind of meaningful, philosophical or at least a poetic kind of understanding, like reaching to deeper meaning through mundanity, but never offered any deeper meaning to me. The only thing to come over strongly was how depressing it all was.

C thought back to that snowy day. Judith, who had disappeared five months ago, riding away on the snowplow, seemed more and more real. He felt her absence infiltrating his life, though he hadn't thought about her in months. He burrowed into the sofa and tried to remember Judith. But he couldn't remember anything specific, not even her face. Instead, images of the North Pole, Chupa Chups, a snowball and dull sex circled in his head. [p.80]


At the front of the book are numerous quotes from journals and magazines from around the world, praising the novel and the author for "his amazing imagination", "uncommon creativity" and "grotesque images", his "joyful cynicism", for being "manipulative and twisted" and "cool, urban and very clever". One in particular struck me: "Fast-paced, comic, slick, and heavily under the American influence." Going back and reading these after finishing the book, I had one of those moments of feeling completely confused. We really do all read in different ways, and it's great that this book connected so vividly and richly with other readers/reviewers, but sadly it did not happen with me. It lacked in so many ways, failing to resonate with me or even impress me - I don't know how much the translation affects this, but I didn't even think the writing was particularly good (even when I dislike a book, I can still be impressed by the writing; not in this case).

All sorts of things could have made this book work better for me, including a stronger sense of atmosphere or even a Korean experience - this book could have been set almost anywhere, for the city was as faceless and nameless as the characters. I often wonder, with books like this, whether that's the author's intention, but even if it is it doesn't make this an interesting or particularly insightful read. The social commentary taking place didn't interest me, not because I'm not interested in what makes me people take their own lives, but because Kim made it really rather boring and uninspiring (of intellectual thought and even emotion). It's a subject matter that, when handled well, can be powerful and disturbingly beautiful, but in this case is rendered almost ordinary - not in a commonplace way, but in a (shrug) "so they're dead, who cares?" kind of way. And that glimpse of something dark and edgy in the beginning - that vanished, and the narrator too became just an ordinary, if slightly creepy, onlooker. In the end, it just wasn't creepy enough, atmospheric enough, insightful enough, to offer anything new. Such a disappointment.
]]> 3.22 1995 I Have The Right To Destroy Myself
author: Young-ha Kim
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.22
book published: 1995
rating: 2
read at: 2013/06/23
date added: 2024/03/02
shelves: speculative-fiction, fiction, 2013, removed
review:
The nameless narrator of I Have the Right to Destroy Myself has an unusual job. He seeks out people - or lets them come to him - who need help, who are in a rough spot, who contain within them the germ of death but who need just a bit of help getting there. His clients kill themselves, and his kind of therapy helps them do it. He's no murderer - in that he has never killed anyone himself, he's never passed over the bottle of pills or slit any wrists - but he's there, with them, in their final hour. Someone to say goodbye to perhaps. At the end of each "job", he takes a trip, sees another European country - he must make a lot of money from this "career".

He styles himself as a kind of god, or a god in the making. He seeks to give these poor souls a voice, and writes a novel recording their stories - and their deaths. And so we learn of Se-yeon, also known as Judith because of her resemblance to the Judith in - at least, that is how C sees her when he walks into his apartment after his mother's funeral to find his younger brother, K, having sex with her on his lounge room floor. Se-yeon/Judith is a runaway, an abused teen being constantly taken advantage of. She possibly has an addiction to sex, which also bore her, and seems to be a compulsive liar. She almost always has a lollipop in her mouth - making sex with her dangerous unless you didn't mind losing an eye, or so C thinks. Both brothers are sleeping with her, but neither of them seems to really care about her - but both are lost when she dies.

C is an artist who works with video, and for an upcoming exhibition at a local gallery he meets a performance artist, Mimi, who's never been filmed or photographed and who uses her naked body to paint canvases. She agrees to let C film her and create a piece of video art to complement her own live performance, but seeing herself on film robs her of her soul and she too seeks death.

The narrator, meanwhile, takes a trip to Prague where he meets a young, cynical woman at a museum, looking at Klimt's painting of Judith, and starts one of his short holiday affairs with her. She only drinks Coke, lots and lots of Coke, and sees water as poison. Finally she tells him the story of why she can't drink water, a shocking and possibly true story that deeply unsettles him. But he writes his novel, prints it out and submits it to a publisher only with a kind of memorial sentiment.

When I finish a job, I travel. When I come back I write about the client and our time together. Through this act of creation, I strive to become more like a god. There are only two ways to be a god: through creation or murder.

Not all executed contracts become stories. Only clients who are worth the effort are reborn through my words. This part of my work is painful. But this arduous process bears witness to my sympathy and love for my clients. [p.10]


This was Kim's first novel, published back in 1996, and was received very well apparently. For myself, it was just plain disappointing. I loved the beginning, it started with such promise and a deep and eery atmosphere - that sensation of possibility, of speculation, of wondering and feeling like you're on the edge of something dark, Murakami-style. I would have loved a bit of magical realism or something, to give it that kind of edge. Instead it turned out very pedestrian and rather dull.

The narrator was the only mildly interesting character, though the woman he sleeps with in Europe was rather curious too, in a manic, obsessive kind of way (she was a bit scary to be honest). You never really understand these people or even what exactly is going on. It's not that the story isn't told with the right details in the right places or that the non-linear structure is confusing - it isn't - but it just, ironically perhaps, lacked soul to me. It was superficial, aiming at the kind of writing that says a lot with few words, but failing to make any real connection or insightful commentary. I couldn't have cared less about these people, though I did feel sad for them, in a detached kind of way. The superfluous details in a "tell" style - and the narrator's habit of linking everything to famous old (European) paintings - seemed to be trying to get across a kind of meaningful, philosophical or at least a poetic kind of understanding, like reaching to deeper meaning through mundanity, but never offered any deeper meaning to me. The only thing to come over strongly was how depressing it all was.

C thought back to that snowy day. Judith, who had disappeared five months ago, riding away on the snowplow, seemed more and more real. He felt her absence infiltrating his life, though he hadn't thought about her in months. He burrowed into the sofa and tried to remember Judith. But he couldn't remember anything specific, not even her face. Instead, images of the North Pole, Chupa Chups, a snowball and dull sex circled in his head. [p.80]


At the front of the book are numerous quotes from journals and magazines from around the world, praising the novel and the author for "his amazing imagination", "uncommon creativity" and "grotesque images", his "joyful cynicism", for being "manipulative and twisted" and "cool, urban and very clever". One in particular struck me: "Fast-paced, comic, slick, and heavily under the American influence." Going back and reading these after finishing the book, I had one of those moments of feeling completely confused. We really do all read in different ways, and it's great that this book connected so vividly and richly with other readers/reviewers, but sadly it did not happen with me. It lacked in so many ways, failing to resonate with me or even impress me - I don't know how much the translation affects this, but I didn't even think the writing was particularly good (even when I dislike a book, I can still be impressed by the writing; not in this case).

All sorts of things could have made this book work better for me, including a stronger sense of atmosphere or even a Korean experience - this book could have been set almost anywhere, for the city was as faceless and nameless as the characters. I often wonder, with books like this, whether that's the author's intention, but even if it is it doesn't make this an interesting or particularly insightful read. The social commentary taking place didn't interest me, not because I'm not interested in what makes me people take their own lives, but because Kim made it really rather boring and uninspiring (of intellectual thought and even emotion). It's a subject matter that, when handled well, can be powerful and disturbingly beautiful, but in this case is rendered almost ordinary - not in a commonplace way, but in a (shrug) "so they're dead, who cares?" kind of way. And that glimpse of something dark and edgy in the beginning - that vanished, and the narrator too became just an ordinary, if slightly creepy, onlooker. In the end, it just wasn't creepy enough, atmospheric enough, insightful enough, to offer anything new. Such a disappointment.

]]> Heartbreak Hotel 16030689
In possession of a run-down B&B that leans more towards the shabby than the chic and is miles from nowhere, he realises he needs to fill the beds - and fast.

Enter a motley collection of guests: Harold, whose wife has run off with a younger woman; Amy, who's been unexpectedly dumped by her (not-so) weedy boyfriend and Andy, the hypochondriac postman whose girlfriend is much too much for him to handle.

But under Buffy's watchful eye, this disparate group of strangers find they have more in common than perhaps they first thought...]]> 387 Deborah Moggach 0701187824 Shannon 4
The hotel itself is an old Georgian building with dated wallpaper and a leaking roof. It does come with one blessing however, in the form of Voda, a local woman who had cooked and cleaned for Birdie and who is willing to come back and continue the job - and she's an excellent cook. Buffy quite enjoys playing the host and many times on a rainy day his guests end up in his back parlour, drinking wine and discussing their marital problems with him. When his daughter Nyange, an accountant, looks over his books and tells him he needs a plan quick-smart or the place will fall down for want of repairs, he comes up with the idea of offering courses to divorcees who are lacking the skill their partner contributed, be it cooking, gardening or fixing the car. The course Buffy himself is planning on teaching is one for the men on how to talk to women.

None of the classes go quite to plan, of course, but they are still successful in their own way. An unplanned side-effect is the number of people who come for a course and end up partnered - including his own step-daughter India, who arrives to help one weekend and ends up staying on. Along the way several people find happiness, often in unexpected ways, not least of which is Buffy himself, the quintessential lover of women even now.

I knew I was in for a good read when Moggach made me laugh within the first few pages. It has the taste and flavour of a good, solid BBC drama, one with a pleasing blend of rural life, quirky characters and humour. It wasn't the same as watching Hamish Macbeth or Heartbeat or Ballykissangel (you can tell how long it's been since I've had the chance to watch any British TV by how dated these examples are! Such a shame that Canadians don't watch much from there) but it had that kind of vibe, a mix of gritty real life and almost flippant, self-deprecatory humour. Having grown up on British TV as much as Aussie TV, I felt right at home. Deborah Moggach is probably best known for her previous book, which was made into a film with Judi Dench, Maggie Smith and Bill Nighy, among others. I haven't seen that movie, and this is the first Moggach book I've read.

Buffy - a character from one of Moggach's previous books, - is such a character, surprisingly subtle rather than in-your-face, who manages to stay on good terms with his many exes, even the one who took his prized painting in the divorce settlement after claiming that she, a supposed artist, could better appreciate it. His children are just as wildly different as his wives - there's Quentin, forty-five and gay; Nyange who's half-black; Celeste, the daughter he never knew he had until she turned up on his doorstep in her twenties to meet him. And his thirty-something boys, Bruno and Tobias, who like to rib him. The only woman he didn't have children with was his third wife, Penny, a journalist.

Buffy remembered a rare family gathering, Nyange and Quentin sitting side by side, the black girl and the homosexual. Penny, his wife at the time, had gazed at them. 'Very Channel 4,' she had mused. 'Now all we need is the physically challenged.' She had glanced down at Buffy, who had ricked his back and was lying on the floor, propped up by cushions. 'Oh oh, there he is.' [p.9]


This isn't just Buffy's story; it alternates with the stories of Monica, an older woman who, as she thinks of it, gave away the best years of her life to a married man; Amy, a makeup artist on film and television crews who breaks up with her boyfriend after they slowly separate as friends and lovers; Harold, a writer whose wife Pia leaves him for a Japanese woman; and Andy, a tall, attractive postman who fell into marriage almost against his will and is the walking cliche of the quiet man suffering under his wife's constant barrage of demands and expectations. They are all very different people and come to different classes at Myrtle House - except for Andy, who is actually there for the fishing even though he could really use the class on talking to women.

There were times when I baulked at the casual use of relationship stereotypes, and yet Moggach always managed to rescue the story - and characters - from slipping too far in that direction. The saving was generally subtle and between-the-lines, like henpecked Andy, probably the most cliched of all the characters, who lives with a "blousy" woman who rather intimidates him. He can never seem to speak up for himself and be honest with her, and he seems to have no desire to really talk to her. All of that is perfectly clear, but is nicely balanced by the scene where he meets a local girl in Knockton and finds himself telling her things he's never told anyone before: what is unsaid but apparent is the simple truth that you don't have to change yourself to make a relationship work, you just need to meet the right person, someone you instinctively feel comfortable with and can trust. Andy didn't really need Buffy's course on how to speak to women, he just needed the right woman.

As entertaining as the story and characters and incidents are, it maintains a hardboiled realism throughout, a warts-and-all honesty that at times has an almost cruel humour to it, which you often find when the characters are middle-aged and older. Monica is the epitome of this, with her biting cynicism and prickly demeanour. It can be hard to get close and comfortable with these kinds of characters, but it's still easy to sympathise and empathise with them - and relate to them. This is a very human story, frank and open, and in that frankness humour comes easily. It also allowed for less predictability, and not knowing what was going to happen to the characters or where they'd all end up made it even more fun.

Running through it all is a near-constant refrain, a recurring theme regarding the financial collapse of recent years and the fat bonuses the banks gave themselves despite it. It made the ending highly satisfying, even if I find it hard to believe that any executive would go along with it. It was probably the only part of the book that wasn't realistic, but it was a great way to end things. As for the Welsh setting, aside from the usual jokes about the unpronounceable place names, it wasn't very distinguishable from a rural English setting - the landscape isn't wildly different of course, but the culture didn't come across as very different either.

Over the course of the book, I came to feel close and familiar with Buffy and his sprawling family, as well as with those other, single characters that it focuses on. Between them they cover a wide breadth of relationship woes in many guises, between spouses, lovers, siblings and parent-children. The humour tended towards self-deprecatory and biting, almost snarky at times, and no one was safe from it. I found that the way characters ended up together often came across as a bit convenient, mostly because the story focused on the drama that led up to it, not the coming-together itself. This is no romance novel! But it was a bit neat-and-tidy at the end of the day, which is satisfying but also oddly disappointing. Sometimes you just want to see a character stay single and be perfectly happy with it, because there are people like that and they don't often get reflected in fiction - instead being single continues to be portrayed as a kind of failure, something that needs to be fixed. Still, overall I really enjoyed this and would definitely like to read more of Moggach's books.]]> 3.32 2013 Heartbreak Hotel
author: Deborah Moggach
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.32
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/03/15
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: fiction, 2013, humour, removed
review:
Retired actor Russell "Buffy" Buffery is in his 70s, has been married three times and has children with four, all adults now, some of them even middle-aged. When his dear friend Bridie dies and leaves him her B&B, Myrtle House, in a small Welsh town called Knockton near the border, Buffy decides - despite his children's scoffing - to pack up his dingy London flat and move there to embark on a new venture.

The hotel itself is an old Georgian building with dated wallpaper and a leaking roof. It does come with one blessing however, in the form of Voda, a local woman who had cooked and cleaned for Birdie and who is willing to come back and continue the job - and she's an excellent cook. Buffy quite enjoys playing the host and many times on a rainy day his guests end up in his back parlour, drinking wine and discussing their marital problems with him. When his daughter Nyange, an accountant, looks over his books and tells him he needs a plan quick-smart or the place will fall down for want of repairs, he comes up with the idea of offering courses to divorcees who are lacking the skill their partner contributed, be it cooking, gardening or fixing the car. The course Buffy himself is planning on teaching is one for the men on how to talk to women.

None of the classes go quite to plan, of course, but they are still successful in their own way. An unplanned side-effect is the number of people who come for a course and end up partnered - including his own step-daughter India, who arrives to help one weekend and ends up staying on. Along the way several people find happiness, often in unexpected ways, not least of which is Buffy himself, the quintessential lover of women even now.

I knew I was in for a good read when Moggach made me laugh within the first few pages. It has the taste and flavour of a good, solid BBC drama, one with a pleasing blend of rural life, quirky characters and humour. It wasn't the same as watching Hamish Macbeth or Heartbeat or Ballykissangel (you can tell how long it's been since I've had the chance to watch any British TV by how dated these examples are! Such a shame that Canadians don't watch much from there) but it had that kind of vibe, a mix of gritty real life and almost flippant, self-deprecatory humour. Having grown up on British TV as much as Aussie TV, I felt right at home. Deborah Moggach is probably best known for her previous book, which was made into a film with Judi Dench, Maggie Smith and Bill Nighy, among others. I haven't seen that movie, and this is the first Moggach book I've read.

Buffy - a character from one of Moggach's previous books, - is such a character, surprisingly subtle rather than in-your-face, who manages to stay on good terms with his many exes, even the one who took his prized painting in the divorce settlement after claiming that she, a supposed artist, could better appreciate it. His children are just as wildly different as his wives - there's Quentin, forty-five and gay; Nyange who's half-black; Celeste, the daughter he never knew he had until she turned up on his doorstep in her twenties to meet him. And his thirty-something boys, Bruno and Tobias, who like to rib him. The only woman he didn't have children with was his third wife, Penny, a journalist.

Buffy remembered a rare family gathering, Nyange and Quentin sitting side by side, the black girl and the homosexual. Penny, his wife at the time, had gazed at them. 'Very Channel 4,' she had mused. 'Now all we need is the physically challenged.' She had glanced down at Buffy, who had ricked his back and was lying on the floor, propped up by cushions. 'Oh oh, there he is.' [p.9]


This isn't just Buffy's story; it alternates with the stories of Monica, an older woman who, as she thinks of it, gave away the best years of her life to a married man; Amy, a makeup artist on film and television crews who breaks up with her boyfriend after they slowly separate as friends and lovers; Harold, a writer whose wife Pia leaves him for a Japanese woman; and Andy, a tall, attractive postman who fell into marriage almost against his will and is the walking cliche of the quiet man suffering under his wife's constant barrage of demands and expectations. They are all very different people and come to different classes at Myrtle House - except for Andy, who is actually there for the fishing even though he could really use the class on talking to women.

There were times when I baulked at the casual use of relationship stereotypes, and yet Moggach always managed to rescue the story - and characters - from slipping too far in that direction. The saving was generally subtle and between-the-lines, like henpecked Andy, probably the most cliched of all the characters, who lives with a "blousy" woman who rather intimidates him. He can never seem to speak up for himself and be honest with her, and he seems to have no desire to really talk to her. All of that is perfectly clear, but is nicely balanced by the scene where he meets a local girl in Knockton and finds himself telling her things he's never told anyone before: what is unsaid but apparent is the simple truth that you don't have to change yourself to make a relationship work, you just need to meet the right person, someone you instinctively feel comfortable with and can trust. Andy didn't really need Buffy's course on how to speak to women, he just needed the right woman.

As entertaining as the story and characters and incidents are, it maintains a hardboiled realism throughout, a warts-and-all honesty that at times has an almost cruel humour to it, which you often find when the characters are middle-aged and older. Monica is the epitome of this, with her biting cynicism and prickly demeanour. It can be hard to get close and comfortable with these kinds of characters, but it's still easy to sympathise and empathise with them - and relate to them. This is a very human story, frank and open, and in that frankness humour comes easily. It also allowed for less predictability, and not knowing what was going to happen to the characters or where they'd all end up made it even more fun.

Running through it all is a near-constant refrain, a recurring theme regarding the financial collapse of recent years and the fat bonuses the banks gave themselves despite it. It made the ending highly satisfying, even if I find it hard to believe that any executive would go along with it. It was probably the only part of the book that wasn't realistic, but it was a great way to end things. As for the Welsh setting, aside from the usual jokes about the unpronounceable place names, it wasn't very distinguishable from a rural English setting - the landscape isn't wildly different of course, but the culture didn't come across as very different either.

Over the course of the book, I came to feel close and familiar with Buffy and his sprawling family, as well as with those other, single characters that it focuses on. Between them they cover a wide breadth of relationship woes in many guises, between spouses, lovers, siblings and parent-children. The humour tended towards self-deprecatory and biting, almost snarky at times, and no one was safe from it. I found that the way characters ended up together often came across as a bit convenient, mostly because the story focused on the drama that led up to it, not the coming-together itself. This is no romance novel! But it was a bit neat-and-tidy at the end of the day, which is satisfying but also oddly disappointing. Sometimes you just want to see a character stay single and be perfectly happy with it, because there are people like that and they don't often get reflected in fiction - instead being single continues to be portrayed as a kind of failure, something that needs to be fixed. Still, overall I really enjoyed this and would definitely like to read more of Moggach's books.
]]> Forgotten 13241732
As she struggles to recreate her old life, throwing herself into solving a big case for a client and trying to reclaim her beloved apartment from the handsome photographer who’s taken over her lease, everyone around her thinks she should take the opportunity to change. But is she willing to sacrifice the job, relationships and everything else she worked so hard to build?

In FORGOTTEN, Catherine McKenzie tweaks a classic tale of discovering who we really are when everything that brings meaning to our lives is lost.]]> 367 Catherine McKenzie 144340991X Shannon 2
While in Tswanaland, though, Emma falls ill while on safari and is left with an NGO in a remote village to recover. Before she can make it back to the city, a massive earthquake hits the country and destroys all its communications infrastructure, not to mention closing the airports. Emma finds herself stranded the day before she had planned on flying out, alone but for the two NGO workers who are building a school. One month becomes six before Emma finally decides to leave, flying home via London. Unable to reach any of her friends or her boyfriend, Craig, there's no one to meet her at the airport when she arrives in a wintry December dressed in summer clothes.

But it's when her key doesn't work in the lock to her apartment that she really begins to worry - no, it's when a man, a stranger, appears and unlocks the door for her that Emma starts to freak. Her furniture is still inside, her phone, her bed, but her possessions are gone. Her landlord has rented out her home to this man, Dominic, a handsome photographer and a friend of her upstairs neighbour, Tara, an actress who's currently in LA. After calling Tara to make sure Emma isn't a crazy person, Dominic lets her in and agrees to let her stay - after all, she has nowhere else to go. Her bank account is frozen, she can't reach her friends and doesn't have their mobile numbers, and she's in a state of shock.

The shock only escalates when they go and see the landlord who explains that he rented out the flat after hearing that Emma was "missing, presumed dead." When she finally braves her law office, she learns that not only was she presumed dead, but they even held a memorial for her. Her boyfriend is now dating her nemesis, Sophie. And where is Stephanie, her best friend? Only in Africa, trying to find her - or her dead body.

Coming back to this nightmare world, Emma has no intention of taking Dominic's advice to remake her world however she wants it: she loved her old life. She loves her job, her apartment, she just wants things to go back to normal. Why should she change? But the truth is, everything around her has changed without her, leaving Emma clutching at the past, alone.

I got this book some time ago; I'd just finished SJ Watson's about a woman with amnesia, so it's hardly surprising that this book seemed to jump off the shelf at me, with a title like that. And I liked the cheeriness of the cover, which is rather misleading as the entire story is set during a snowy winter, with the exception of some flashbacks to Africa. The premise sounded interesting and even a bit scary, and promised to be an engrossing read. That was the extent of my expectation when I started reading this, so I wouldn't say that this disappointed me because it didn't live up to them. No, it disappointed me for several other reasons.

To start with, Emma was a narrator I just couldn't come to like. I found her to be rather ridiculous: self-indulgent in the worst way, and stupidly melodramatic - the way she runs off after talking to the landlord and throws herself into the snow? The way she throws a glass of Scotch at the wall above Dominic's head to get his attention? If this is McKenzie's only idea for showing us the turmoil and stress and panic that Emma's going through, it's really lame. Sorry but it is. Emma was also stubborn, petty, often childish, and her character seemed to be all over the place. One minute she's the argumentative, self-assured litigation lawyer, the next she can barely speak and lets others score a hit on her. I couldn't come to care for her priorities, I found her exceedingly irritating, and I have no idea what Dominic saw in her. She was inherently selfish, and sure, she's in a horrible situation that would make most people pretty upset, to say the least - frankly I find the idea of returning home only to find that it's, well, gone quite terrifying - but her self-absorbed personality was clearly something well established before then. I could understand her need to normalise her world after returning from Africa, but I was also disappointed in her disinterest to change anything - she came across as pretty boring, which I won't hold against her because hey, I like my comforts too, but still, as a story of self-discovery, it was pretty lacking.

"Don't you want to bust out sometimes and do something totally spontaneous?"
I laugh. "You know I don't."
"Maybe that's the problem."
I feel a flutter of annoyance. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's just ... you could've died, Emma. Hasn't that changed anything for you?
"You can't be serious."
"I know lots of bad things have happened to you, but what have you changed? You know, in your life?"
[...]
"Why does everyone expect me to change my whole life just because of what happened to me?"
"Who expects that?"
"You. Matt. Dominic."
[...]
She starts to laugh. Hard.
"What's so funny?"
"Your life already has changed, Emma, whether you like it or not."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"No, I'm not sure you really do." [pp.273-4]


She's a good friend, Stephanie. I didn't find any of the characters particularly interesting, though I quite liked Stephanie. While the story is, thematically, clearly about Emma's struggle to balance her desire for the life she had with the reality of her life now, I found it rather bland and weakly explored. The glimpse into the world of corporate law (the author is a lawyer) brought nothing new to the usual stereotypes, by which I take away the idea that corporate law really is that horrible. Can't imagine why anyone wants to be a lawyer, but that's just me. Another thing I couldn't identify with, with Emma.

It was weird, I thought, for McKenzie to use Tswanaland, which was within Namibia, one of several "bantustans" that were designed for the indigenous people - in this case the Tswanas - to self-govern within the country. They were all abolished in 1989. I suppose she chose it for that reason, to avoid cultural or racial stereotyping, but I'm not sure you can avoid that. While she does reminisce about her time in Africa, I couldn't quite picture it. It was unclear to me whether she stayed as long as she did because she actually liked it there, helping to build a school and living an uncomplicated life - it was implied, yet she so quickly ditched it all when getting back that I wasn't sure if I'd understood it properly.

Another major disappointment for me was the fact that McKenzie clearly made a concerted effort to remove anything that might distinguish this as a Canadian story, set in Montreal - in fact, at one point she even mentions a "congresswoman", which is a distinctly American term. This saddened me. I'm sure the thinking behind this was somewhere along the lines of wanting people who live anywhere similar to Canada, to be able to identify with the story and feel like it was taking place in their own location, despite the snow. But to my cynical side, it felt like selling out. A way to Americanise a story without overtly doing so, which will definitely help with U.S. sales (the book has been picked up by an American publisher and was released there early 2013). Having lived in Canada for seven years now, I'm aware of the complex relationship between the two countries, and the debates about Canada's national identity - or lack of one, even - and the sad fact that books with a distinctly Canadian setting don't, apparently, sell well in the States. Personally, I think people should be proud of where they come from, and celebrate it. Besides, every American book I pick up, the first thing you learn is precisely where it's set, town name, state, sometimes they even talk about streets and local shops. It's interesting (and curious) to me that this is something Canadian and Australian authors tend not to do - a discussion for another day, perhaps.

It's clear after all this that I don't have much positive to say about Forgotten, though I will say it was a quick and easy read. I didn't find it particularly humorous, I solved the mystery of the stolen painting as soon as the chest was mentioned, I found the plot to be ploddingly cliched, and the love interest - Dominic - woefully under-utilised and thinly sketched out. There was almost no chemistry between them, just an awful lot of drinking. It could have been a much stronger story if the main character had been someone I could respect, admire even, and definitely empathise with. As it was, I not only couldn't find a way to relate to Emma, I wanted to tune her out. Not a recipe for enjoyment, when reading. Mostly I was just left feeling completely unimpressed, by the end, though mildly pleased that Emma did manage to achieve that balance between her old life and her new.]]> 3.70 2012 Forgotten
author: Catherine McKenzie
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.70
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/01/11
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: fiction, chick-lit, 2013, removed
review:
Emma Tupper's mother had a lifelong love of anything African, though she never had a chance to go there herself. After her mother's death, Emma discovers that she spent her last money on a plane ticket for Emma to go to Tswanaland in Africa for a month. Emma is on the fast-track at her big corporate law firm and looking at making partner soon, but the last thing she said to her mother was to promise she would go to Africa, and when the estate lawyer at her firm, who also handled her mother's will, implies that she'll put her career on the line if she takes the time off, Emma's stubborn determination to do just that takes over.

While in Tswanaland, though, Emma falls ill while on safari and is left with an NGO in a remote village to recover. Before she can make it back to the city, a massive earthquake hits the country and destroys all its communications infrastructure, not to mention closing the airports. Emma finds herself stranded the day before she had planned on flying out, alone but for the two NGO workers who are building a school. One month becomes six before Emma finally decides to leave, flying home via London. Unable to reach any of her friends or her boyfriend, Craig, there's no one to meet her at the airport when she arrives in a wintry December dressed in summer clothes.

But it's when her key doesn't work in the lock to her apartment that she really begins to worry - no, it's when a man, a stranger, appears and unlocks the door for her that Emma starts to freak. Her furniture is still inside, her phone, her bed, but her possessions are gone. Her landlord has rented out her home to this man, Dominic, a handsome photographer and a friend of her upstairs neighbour, Tara, an actress who's currently in LA. After calling Tara to make sure Emma isn't a crazy person, Dominic lets her in and agrees to let her stay - after all, she has nowhere else to go. Her bank account is frozen, she can't reach her friends and doesn't have their mobile numbers, and she's in a state of shock.

The shock only escalates when they go and see the landlord who explains that he rented out the flat after hearing that Emma was "missing, presumed dead." When she finally braves her law office, she learns that not only was she presumed dead, but they even held a memorial for her. Her boyfriend is now dating her nemesis, Sophie. And where is Stephanie, her best friend? Only in Africa, trying to find her - or her dead body.

Coming back to this nightmare world, Emma has no intention of taking Dominic's advice to remake her world however she wants it: she loved her old life. She loves her job, her apartment, she just wants things to go back to normal. Why should she change? But the truth is, everything around her has changed without her, leaving Emma clutching at the past, alone.

I got this book some time ago; I'd just finished SJ Watson's about a woman with amnesia, so it's hardly surprising that this book seemed to jump off the shelf at me, with a title like that. And I liked the cheeriness of the cover, which is rather misleading as the entire story is set during a snowy winter, with the exception of some flashbacks to Africa. The premise sounded interesting and even a bit scary, and promised to be an engrossing read. That was the extent of my expectation when I started reading this, so I wouldn't say that this disappointed me because it didn't live up to them. No, it disappointed me for several other reasons.

To start with, Emma was a narrator I just couldn't come to like. I found her to be rather ridiculous: self-indulgent in the worst way, and stupidly melodramatic - the way she runs off after talking to the landlord and throws herself into the snow? The way she throws a glass of Scotch at the wall above Dominic's head to get his attention? If this is McKenzie's only idea for showing us the turmoil and stress and panic that Emma's going through, it's really lame. Sorry but it is. Emma was also stubborn, petty, often childish, and her character seemed to be all over the place. One minute she's the argumentative, self-assured litigation lawyer, the next she can barely speak and lets others score a hit on her. I couldn't come to care for her priorities, I found her exceedingly irritating, and I have no idea what Dominic saw in her. She was inherently selfish, and sure, she's in a horrible situation that would make most people pretty upset, to say the least - frankly I find the idea of returning home only to find that it's, well, gone quite terrifying - but her self-absorbed personality was clearly something well established before then. I could understand her need to normalise her world after returning from Africa, but I was also disappointed in her disinterest to change anything - she came across as pretty boring, which I won't hold against her because hey, I like my comforts too, but still, as a story of self-discovery, it was pretty lacking.

"Don't you want to bust out sometimes and do something totally spontaneous?"
I laugh. "You know I don't."
"Maybe that's the problem."
I feel a flutter of annoyance. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's just ... you could've died, Emma. Hasn't that changed anything for you?
"You can't be serious."
"I know lots of bad things have happened to you, but what have you changed? You know, in your life?"
[...]
"Why does everyone expect me to change my whole life just because of what happened to me?"
"Who expects that?"
"You. Matt. Dominic."
[...]
She starts to laugh. Hard.
"What's so funny?"
"Your life already has changed, Emma, whether you like it or not."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"No, I'm not sure you really do." [pp.273-4]


She's a good friend, Stephanie. I didn't find any of the characters particularly interesting, though I quite liked Stephanie. While the story is, thematically, clearly about Emma's struggle to balance her desire for the life she had with the reality of her life now, I found it rather bland and weakly explored. The glimpse into the world of corporate law (the author is a lawyer) brought nothing new to the usual stereotypes, by which I take away the idea that corporate law really is that horrible. Can't imagine why anyone wants to be a lawyer, but that's just me. Another thing I couldn't identify with, with Emma.

It was weird, I thought, for McKenzie to use Tswanaland, which was within Namibia, one of several "bantustans" that were designed for the indigenous people - in this case the Tswanas - to self-govern within the country. They were all abolished in 1989. I suppose she chose it for that reason, to avoid cultural or racial stereotyping, but I'm not sure you can avoid that. While she does reminisce about her time in Africa, I couldn't quite picture it. It was unclear to me whether she stayed as long as she did because she actually liked it there, helping to build a school and living an uncomplicated life - it was implied, yet she so quickly ditched it all when getting back that I wasn't sure if I'd understood it properly.

Another major disappointment for me was the fact that McKenzie clearly made a concerted effort to remove anything that might distinguish this as a Canadian story, set in Montreal - in fact, at one point she even mentions a "congresswoman", which is a distinctly American term. This saddened me. I'm sure the thinking behind this was somewhere along the lines of wanting people who live anywhere similar to Canada, to be able to identify with the story and feel like it was taking place in their own location, despite the snow. But to my cynical side, it felt like selling out. A way to Americanise a story without overtly doing so, which will definitely help with U.S. sales (the book has been picked up by an American publisher and was released there early 2013). Having lived in Canada for seven years now, I'm aware of the complex relationship between the two countries, and the debates about Canada's national identity - or lack of one, even - and the sad fact that books with a distinctly Canadian setting don't, apparently, sell well in the States. Personally, I think people should be proud of where they come from, and celebrate it. Besides, every American book I pick up, the first thing you learn is precisely where it's set, town name, state, sometimes they even talk about streets and local shops. It's interesting (and curious) to me that this is something Canadian and Australian authors tend not to do - a discussion for another day, perhaps.

It's clear after all this that I don't have much positive to say about Forgotten, though I will say it was a quick and easy read. I didn't find it particularly humorous, I solved the mystery of the stolen painting as soon as the chest was mentioned, I found the plot to be ploddingly cliched, and the love interest - Dominic - woefully under-utilised and thinly sketched out. There was almost no chemistry between them, just an awful lot of drinking. It could have been a much stronger story if the main character had been someone I could respect, admire even, and definitely empathise with. As it was, I not only couldn't find a way to relate to Emma, I wanted to tune her out. Not a recipe for enjoyment, when reading. Mostly I was just left feeling completely unimpressed, by the end, though mildly pleased that Emma did manage to achieve that balance between her old life and her new.
]]> <![CDATA[Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)]]> 11711049
With her knack for being in trouble’s way, Sookie witnesses the firebombing of Merlotte’s, the bar where she works. Since Sam Merlotte is now known to be two-natured, suspicion falls immediately on the anti-shifters in the area. Sookie suspects otherwise, but her attention is divided when she realizes that her lover, Eric Northman, and his “child” Pam are plotting to kill the vampire who is now their master. Gradually, Sookie is drawn into the plot—which is much more complicated than she knows...]]> 335 Charlaine Harris 1937007359 Shannon 3
Meanwhile her vampire boyfriend Eric, the Sheriff of Area 5 in which Sookie lives, continues to have his own problems with Victor, the vampire who manages the whole state and more, a regent for their king. Victor's doing everything he can to squeeze Eric and make life difficult for him - to provoke him, ideally, into an attack so Victor can get rid of him altogether. Now Victor is refusing to let Pam change over her lover, Miriam, who's dying of cancer and has little time left.

And Sookie's newest housemates, her fairy relatives Claude and Dermot, seem to have an ulterior motive in moving in with her, and Sookie's not entirely sure whether she should trust them or not. With Eric and Pam now seriously plotting a way to kill Victor for good, and Sandra sending people to kill her, Sookie's got her hands full. Worse, Eric's keeping a secret from her which could change everything for Sookie, as she learns about a new queen and an old promise. With all these new complications, Sookie still manages to find time to clear out her attic, discover an old letter addressed to her from her grandmother, and host a baby shower.

Wow are we really up to book eleven in this series already?! I would never have guessed there were so many - perhaps because some stand out a lot more than others. This wasn't quite a stand-out novel but it was much more exciting and interesting than the previous book. I always enjoy them regardless, because I love Harris' style - Sookie's voice - and the combination of daily routine, paranormal politics, danger, mystery and romance. I find it very easy to settle into Sookie's storytelling, her narration, and there's so much going on in the details that they're much more satisfying books than a lot of other Urban Fantasy.

While this had more plot than the previous book, - which was one of the "filler" books - it still lacked one of the high-octane plots of some of the earlier books. I actually kept forgetting about Sandra - in fact I couldn't remember her at all, from previous books! - but I mean I kept forgetting about the danger she posed. I just couldn't quite take her seriously, even though I should have.

I was more tense about the situation with Victor, who's a real bastard and definitely a serious threat. But as far as plots go, it wasn't really central to the story. In fact, nothing was central, it is a story made up of smaller plots, side issues, more character development, and a progression of on-going plot lines. This isn't a negative, just an observation. It doesn't mean it lacked cohesion, tension or excitement - Harris is good at keeping things tight and on track. She doesn't seem to forget details or contradict herself. Yet there was also a lack of energy in this instalment which isn't typical of the series. Could Harris be winding down?

In particular, I found the romance between Sookie and Eric to be, well, not really there. Where was the passion of previous books? The tug-of-war that was always so entertaining between them. Sookie says she loves him - and does something rather serious to find out the truth of those feelings - and yet I didn't feel it. She came across as almost indifferent, and her tendency to treat Eric as an irritating young relative wasn't funny anymore, just ... off. Likewise, what with all the problems in Eric's life, I didn't buy into his feelings either. Sure he's a kind of alien and I don't expect him to behave like a "regular" romantic hero, but the chemistry that's usually between them just wasn't there. It was hugely disappointing, and rather sad.

As a story that continues to flesh out this interesting world that Harris has constructed, it's a good one, and there is some excitement and one very tense, danger-riddled scene at Fangtasia; it opens some new doors and closes others. But in terms of characters and the "human" side of the story, it wasn't Harris' best. I still really enjoy the books, and this was no exception, but it didn't really go anywhere - except, maybe, in the Victor storyline - and the "Bill spectre" loomed large again. I just would have thought that by now, eleven books in, I would know Sookie better than this, and have an idea of what her future goals and plans are - does she want a full-time relationship? Marriage even? Kids? Her life seems stalled at the moment, especially dating vampires and other supernatural creatures, and it starting to feel a bit depressing. I'd like to see her progress in her life, in some way - rather than see her constantly be a kind of plaything for vampires or a useful tool for the "supes", I'd love to see her do something for herself, something that shows how she's grown and what direction she wants to take her life. Because loving a vampire, that's a life that really isn't going to go anywhere. ]]> 3.88 2011 Dead Reckoning (Sookie Stackhouse #11)
author: Charlaine Harris
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.88
book published: 2011
rating: 3
read at: 2013/01/31
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: urban-fantasy, vampires, shape-shifters, mystery-suspense, 2013, removed
review:
It's no coincidence that Sookie always seems to be around when trouble strikes - these days, it's coming after her, specifically, even when she doesn't realise it at the time. First a fire bomb is hurled through the window at Merlotte's during her shift, then a gang of men turn up hyped up on vampire blood. Turns out Debbie Pelt's insane younger sister Sandra is out of jail and gunning for Sookie with everything she's got, and there's no one around anymore to hold her in check.

Meanwhile her vampire boyfriend Eric, the Sheriff of Area 5 in which Sookie lives, continues to have his own problems with Victor, the vampire who manages the whole state and more, a regent for their king. Victor's doing everything he can to squeeze Eric and make life difficult for him - to provoke him, ideally, into an attack so Victor can get rid of him altogether. Now Victor is refusing to let Pam change over her lover, Miriam, who's dying of cancer and has little time left.

And Sookie's newest housemates, her fairy relatives Claude and Dermot, seem to have an ulterior motive in moving in with her, and Sookie's not entirely sure whether she should trust them or not. With Eric and Pam now seriously plotting a way to kill Victor for good, and Sandra sending people to kill her, Sookie's got her hands full. Worse, Eric's keeping a secret from her which could change everything for Sookie, as she learns about a new queen and an old promise. With all these new complications, Sookie still manages to find time to clear out her attic, discover an old letter addressed to her from her grandmother, and host a baby shower.

Wow are we really up to book eleven in this series already?! I would never have guessed there were so many - perhaps because some stand out a lot more than others. This wasn't quite a stand-out novel but it was much more exciting and interesting than the previous book. I always enjoy them regardless, because I love Harris' style - Sookie's voice - and the combination of daily routine, paranormal politics, danger, mystery and romance. I find it very easy to settle into Sookie's storytelling, her narration, and there's so much going on in the details that they're much more satisfying books than a lot of other Urban Fantasy.

While this had more plot than the previous book, - which was one of the "filler" books - it still lacked one of the high-octane plots of some of the earlier books. I actually kept forgetting about Sandra - in fact I couldn't remember her at all, from previous books! - but I mean I kept forgetting about the danger she posed. I just couldn't quite take her seriously, even though I should have.

I was more tense about the situation with Victor, who's a real bastard and definitely a serious threat. But as far as plots go, it wasn't really central to the story. In fact, nothing was central, it is a story made up of smaller plots, side issues, more character development, and a progression of on-going plot lines. This isn't a negative, just an observation. It doesn't mean it lacked cohesion, tension or excitement - Harris is good at keeping things tight and on track. She doesn't seem to forget details or contradict herself. Yet there was also a lack of energy in this instalment which isn't typical of the series. Could Harris be winding down?

In particular, I found the romance between Sookie and Eric to be, well, not really there. Where was the passion of previous books? The tug-of-war that was always so entertaining between them. Sookie says she loves him - and does something rather serious to find out the truth of those feelings - and yet I didn't feel it. She came across as almost indifferent, and her tendency to treat Eric as an irritating young relative wasn't funny anymore, just ... off. Likewise, what with all the problems in Eric's life, I didn't buy into his feelings either. Sure he's a kind of alien and I don't expect him to behave like a "regular" romantic hero, but the chemistry that's usually between them just wasn't there. It was hugely disappointing, and rather sad.

As a story that continues to flesh out this interesting world that Harris has constructed, it's a good one, and there is some excitement and one very tense, danger-riddled scene at Fangtasia; it opens some new doors and closes others. But in terms of characters and the "human" side of the story, it wasn't Harris' best. I still really enjoy the books, and this was no exception, but it didn't really go anywhere - except, maybe, in the Victor storyline - and the "Bill spectre" loomed large again. I just would have thought that by now, eleven books in, I would know Sookie better than this, and have an idea of what her future goals and plans are - does she want a full-time relationship? Marriage even? Kids? Her life seems stalled at the moment, especially dating vampires and other supernatural creatures, and it starting to feel a bit depressing. I'd like to see her progress in her life, in some way - rather than see her constantly be a kind of plaything for vampires or a useful tool for the "supes", I'd love to see her do something for herself, something that shows how she's grown and what direction she wants to take her life. Because loving a vampire, that's a life that really isn't going to go anywhere.
]]> <![CDATA[Deadlocked (Sookie Stackhouse, #12)]]> 15808697
Felipe de Castro, the vampire King of Louisiana (and Arkansas and Nevada), is in town. It’s the worst possible time for a human body to show up in Eric Northman’s front yard—especially the body of a woman whose blood he just drank. Now it’s up to Sookie and Bill Compton, the official Area Five investigator, to solve the murder. Sookie thinks that, at least this time, the dead girl’s fate has nothing to do with her. But she is wrong. She has an enemy, one far more devious than she would ever suspect, who has set out to make Sookie’s world come crashing down.]]> 340 Charlaine Harris 0425256383 Shannon 3 Deadlocked begins with a dodgy party at Eric Northman's house where he's entertaining the vampire king of the region, Felipe de Castro, and his entourage. Considering Eric, Sookie and their cohort were directly responsible for murdering Victor, Felipe's regent, in the previous book, . Things get messy at the party: Sookie is delayed by Mustapha, Eric's shifter guard, and when she does arrive she finds Eric drinking blood from a drugged girl - and it looks like sex isn't far behind. After Sookie's evicted the girl from the house, she turns up dead of a broken neck on Eric's front lawn, and the police are called.

Things are messy for Sookie at home, as well. Her great uncle Dermot, a fairy, and her cousin Claude are still living with her, having been left behind when Sookie's grandfather, a patriarch of the fae, closed the doorways between the two worlds. When her grandfather, Niall, turns up unexpectedly and Sookie confronts him about his treatment of his son, Dermot, certain things come to light and Niall begins his own investigation into his family, taking Claude with him back to faery.

Without Claude managing the other strange fae in the area, they begin to get restless and Sookie isn't sure how long it'll be before they make a mistake and eat something - or someone - they shouldn't. The police are watching Sookie; her best friend Tara is about to have twins; her friend Sam's new girlfriend, a werewolf called Jannalynn, has taken exception to Sookie's existence; there's a robbery at the antique store selling some of her grandparents' old furniture; and it dawns on Sookie that others might be aware that she has a cluviel dor in her possession: a powerful magical artefact that her grandmother's faery lover Fintan had given her, which had been stowed away in a secret compartment in her grandmother's desk, which Sookie found.

I can't remember all the thoughts I had while reading this and directly afterward, but here are the lingering impressions (which are perhaps the ones that really count).

Like many Sookie Stackhouse novels, Deadlocked is busy and full of small details - which is just how I like my Sookie books (I've adjusted to the lots-of-little-plots over one-big-cohesive-plot that you get in this series, so now I just go with it and try to keep up). So far this is the only Urban Fantasy series I really enjoy, and the only one I've actually stuck with. Sookie is no detective, she just happens to have the tools - her telepathy and all the people she knows - to be in the right place at the right time and the smarts to figure things out. She's a waitress with only year 12 education, and no ambition, but she's comfortable with that and she's such a well-developed, enjoyable character that she carries the story well. There's just something about Sookie that I have always liked, even though if she were a real person and I met her, we wouldn't have anything in common and wouldn't be friends. I enjoy reading about her life, the mundane details as much as the exciting ones. The only trouble I have with her is that, lately, she seems a bit unemotional.

Perhaps there's just so much going on in her world, and she's had to face the loss of loved ones, a load of violence, torture and betrayal, that she's a bit numb now. It's just that, she says she loves Eric (and he says he loves her) but I just don't believe it. The book where Eric was bewitched and forgot who he was and charmed Sookie by being a sweetheart was probably my favourite in the whole series, but the chemistry between the two of them has vanished in the last couple of books. It's also been dulled by the clear fact that there's no future for these two. Sookie has no interest in becoming a vampire. And she seems to be sacrificing a great deal of her own morals, or principals, merely to remain in the vampires' social circles, and that does seem to be affecting her, even if she hasn't realised it. So the way this one ended was both a pleasant surprise and a bit of an "a-ha!" moment, though I rather hope that things aren't going to be that obvious.

There are a couple of different strands to the plot of Deadlocked, and they both come to fruition at the end - only they didn't quite make sense to me. I had a great many interruptions while reading this, having started it in Canada while surrounded by movers, and finishing it here in Australia days later. I did enjoy it, it was much stronger than the previous book or two which were rather boring, but my increasing sense of despair for Sookie's personal life spoiled it somewhat.

Still, things have been put into place to make the next book (the last one I think?) a solid finale. I hope. I'm looking forward to reading it, because having got to know Sookie as a fictional character, I so want to see her happy - and safe - because I don't know that I really understand her anymore. She's not the person she was in the beginning, which is understandable, and I don't think she likes herself as much anymore. You can actually feel the mild depression coming off the narration (I have to wonder how much of that is Harris being tired of Sookie and her story, too). She was often grumpy, upsettingly small-minded, begrudging, angry, and so on. She doesn't seem to have anyone to really talk to, and Eric has become a pretty useless boyfriend. The last book has a lot of work to do, is all I can say.]]> 3.87 2012 Deadlocked (Sookie Stackhouse, #12)
author: Charlaine Harris
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.87
book published: 2012
rating: 3
read at: 2013/10/05
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: urban-fantasy, mystery-suspense, vampires, shape-shifters, 2013, removed
review:
It's been six weeks since I read this and I'm struggling a bit to remember what it was about, so I'm just going to start writing and see what resurfaces. Deadlocked begins with a dodgy party at Eric Northman's house where he's entertaining the vampire king of the region, Felipe de Castro, and his entourage. Considering Eric, Sookie and their cohort were directly responsible for murdering Victor, Felipe's regent, in the previous book, . Things get messy at the party: Sookie is delayed by Mustapha, Eric's shifter guard, and when she does arrive she finds Eric drinking blood from a drugged girl - and it looks like sex isn't far behind. After Sookie's evicted the girl from the house, she turns up dead of a broken neck on Eric's front lawn, and the police are called.

Things are messy for Sookie at home, as well. Her great uncle Dermot, a fairy, and her cousin Claude are still living with her, having been left behind when Sookie's grandfather, a patriarch of the fae, closed the doorways between the two worlds. When her grandfather, Niall, turns up unexpectedly and Sookie confronts him about his treatment of his son, Dermot, certain things come to light and Niall begins his own investigation into his family, taking Claude with him back to faery.

Without Claude managing the other strange fae in the area, they begin to get restless and Sookie isn't sure how long it'll be before they make a mistake and eat something - or someone - they shouldn't. The police are watching Sookie; her best friend Tara is about to have twins; her friend Sam's new girlfriend, a werewolf called Jannalynn, has taken exception to Sookie's existence; there's a robbery at the antique store selling some of her grandparents' old furniture; and it dawns on Sookie that others might be aware that she has a cluviel dor in her possession: a powerful magical artefact that her grandmother's faery lover Fintan had given her, which had been stowed away in a secret compartment in her grandmother's desk, which Sookie found.

I can't remember all the thoughts I had while reading this and directly afterward, but here are the lingering impressions (which are perhaps the ones that really count).

Like many Sookie Stackhouse novels, Deadlocked is busy and full of small details - which is just how I like my Sookie books (I've adjusted to the lots-of-little-plots over one-big-cohesive-plot that you get in this series, so now I just go with it and try to keep up). So far this is the only Urban Fantasy series I really enjoy, and the only one I've actually stuck with. Sookie is no detective, she just happens to have the tools - her telepathy and all the people she knows - to be in the right place at the right time and the smarts to figure things out. She's a waitress with only year 12 education, and no ambition, but she's comfortable with that and she's such a well-developed, enjoyable character that she carries the story well. There's just something about Sookie that I have always liked, even though if she were a real person and I met her, we wouldn't have anything in common and wouldn't be friends. I enjoy reading about her life, the mundane details as much as the exciting ones. The only trouble I have with her is that, lately, she seems a bit unemotional.

Perhaps there's just so much going on in her world, and she's had to face the loss of loved ones, a load of violence, torture and betrayal, that she's a bit numb now. It's just that, she says she loves Eric (and he says he loves her) but I just don't believe it. The book where Eric was bewitched and forgot who he was and charmed Sookie by being a sweetheart was probably my favourite in the whole series, but the chemistry between the two of them has vanished in the last couple of books. It's also been dulled by the clear fact that there's no future for these two. Sookie has no interest in becoming a vampire. And she seems to be sacrificing a great deal of her own morals, or principals, merely to remain in the vampires' social circles, and that does seem to be affecting her, even if she hasn't realised it. So the way this one ended was both a pleasant surprise and a bit of an "a-ha!" moment, though I rather hope that things aren't going to be that obvious.

There are a couple of different strands to the plot of Deadlocked, and they both come to fruition at the end - only they didn't quite make sense to me. I had a great many interruptions while reading this, having started it in Canada while surrounded by movers, and finishing it here in Australia days later. I did enjoy it, it was much stronger than the previous book or two which were rather boring, but my increasing sense of despair for Sookie's personal life spoiled it somewhat.

Still, things have been put into place to make the next book (the last one I think?) a solid finale. I hope. I'm looking forward to reading it, because having got to know Sookie as a fictional character, I so want to see her happy - and safe - because I don't know that I really understand her anymore. She's not the person she was in the beginning, which is understandable, and I don't think she likes herself as much anymore. You can actually feel the mild depression coming off the narration (I have to wonder how much of that is Harris being tired of Sookie and her story, too). She was often grumpy, upsettingly small-minded, begrudging, angry, and so on. She doesn't seem to have anyone to really talk to, and Eric has become a pretty useless boyfriend. The last book has a lot of work to do, is all I can say.
]]> <![CDATA[Vamps and the City (Love at Stake, #2)]]> 225668
Darcy Newhart thought it was a stroke of genius—the first–ever reality TV show where mortals vie with vampires for the title of The Sexiest Man on Earth. As the show's director, Darcy's career would be on track again. And she can finally have a life apart from the vampire harem. Okay, so she's still technically dead, but two out of three's not bad. Now she just has to make sure that a mortal doesn't win. If only she wasn't so distracted by a super–sexy and live contestant named Austin...

But Darcy doesn't know the worst of it. Austin Erickson is actually a vampire slayer! And he's got his eye on the show's leggy blond director. Only problem is, he's never wanted any woman—living or dead—as badly. But if he wins her heart, will he lose his soul? And if it means an eternity of hot, passionate loving with Darcy, does that really matter anyway?]]> 387 Kerrelyn Sparks 0060752017 Shannon 4
Unfortunately, vampires are notoriously chauvinistic, and the going theory is that no one will want to listen to a woman giving the news - they'll be too distracted by her womanly bits. Instead, Darcy's given the chance to direct DVN's first-ever reality TV series, a show where male contestants vie for the position of master to Roman Dragenesti's master-less harem - and a million dollars. Darcy hits upon the idea of calling it The Sexiest Man on Earth, and to add an extra layer of surprise, sets out to recruit a few mortal men to throw into the mix of vampires. She knows a mortal isn't allowed to win - that would cost her her job - but the vampires' general sense of arrogant superiority annoys her enough that she wants to prove human men can be their equals. To a point, anyway. She also has to convince the harem women to take part as the judges, which is no easy feat after their lifetime of indulgence and high expectations.

The undercover Stake-Out team is paying close attention to this new TV show. Their leader, Sean Whellan, is Shanna's - Roman Dragenesti's new wife - father, and he thinks she's been brain-washed and wants to rescue her. Sean doesn't understand that there are two kinds of vampires, the "Vamps" who drink synthetic blood and wouldn't hurt anyone, and the "Malcontents", Russian-based vampires who see it as their right as superior beings to take whatever they want, including mortal lives. Austin Erickson is on the Stake-Out team, and with his high-level telekinesis and telepathic abilities, he's a formidable foe to the vampires. He goes undercover as a contestant on the show to gather intel on the vampires and find out where Shanna is, but his objective becomes muddied after meeting Darcy Newhart, whom he can't take his eyes off.

Austin is sure Darcy is human - she must be, with her thoughts of sun and the beach and her kindness. Vampires, Austin has been taught, are only one thing: evil monsters. Discovering that Darcy is in fact a vampire shakes his world, and her state of being isn't enough to put Austin off. But something has to be sacrificed: his new love for Darcy, or his career with the CIA. Someone will end up betrayed. And he's not entirely sure what he's willing to give up.

The second book in the Love at Stake series is hugely entertaining and so much fun! While there are definitely moments of serious introspection and tension, not to mention life-changing decisions, the tone overall is one of humour, silliness and a playful mockery of reality TV.

I don't watch reality TV shows, whether they're reality game shows or the cameras-inside-the-house type, I can't stand them, I find them incredibly boring and I don't see anything of merit in them at all, but as Darcy, the harem ladies and the contestants work their way through the different tests and elimination rounds, I was engrossed. Being "behind the scenes" was much more fun than watching the edited version on the telly, plus you get the added layer of plot with Austin and one of his co-workers from the Stake-Out team, Garrett, working undercover. Some of the scenarios as well as the harem ladies were really very funny, and as a mortal reader naturally it's fun to see the vampires - so sure of their superiority - get taken in by a couple of mortals.

Darcy is very sweet, with enough backbone in her to propel her forward and make her a strong protagonist. Her situation - having to give up her life, her family, her career all because of an attack by a Malcontent and then being converted by a Vamp in order to save her "life" - is sympathetic because it's one of those "that could have been me" scenarios. Darcy's a modern-day woman and she's now in hiding from the world she used to live in; that has to be tough. The other Vamps had been changed centuries ago, or in times of war or other upheavals, and have no particular attachment to the current age, so that they can have more fun and they've had more time to come to terms with things. Everything's still very fresh for Darcy, and she can see the world she used to belong in but isn't allowed to move around in it. Her character-growth arc was very satisfying, watching her make a place for herself in the Vamp world, make new friends, and ultimately a big decision - it worked well.

Austin is also very likeable. He's a fun blend of modern man, sexy man, dangerous man, skilled man. He's not perfect, but he's relatable, familiar. When he first sees Darcy, he's instantly struck by his lustful desire for her - she ticks all his boxes, and he ticks all of hers. A happy coincidence! Lust turns to love after they spend more time together on the set of the game show. Probably the thing I liked about him the least was the unapologetic way he'd trespass on Darcy's mind and listen to her thoughts. But he makes up for it in other ways. Austin and Darcy have some solid chemistry, and while there's little in the way of graphic sex scenes (I think I remember there being one), there's some very heated kissing and some well-timed interruptions that add to the tension nicely.

I've read quite a few of the books in this series now, having read them slightly out-of-order, but whether you're coming to the second book as a new reader of the series or you've been reading later books before returning to the beginning, like me, Vamps and the City offers great world-building, introduces new characters, and presents a great story that can easily be read as a stand-alone. Reading the first book, , would help supply some backstory to this one, especially in regards to the Stake-Out team and who the kilted vampires are, but it's not hugely necessary. Vamps and the City is a funny, entertaining, well-paced and plotted romp. Makes me remember why I used to love reading Paranormal Romances so much!

THE "LOVE AT STAKE" SERIES:
1.
2.
2.5. A Very Vampy Christmas (e-book only)
3.
4. The Undead Next Door
5. All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire
6.
7.
8.
9.
10. Vampire Mine
11. Sexiest Vampire Alive
12. Wanted: Undead or Alive
13. Wild About You
14. The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo]]> 4.01 2006 Vamps and the City (Love at Stake, #2)
author: Kerrelyn Sparks
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.01
book published: 2006
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/16
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: paranormal, romance, vampires, 2013, removed
review:
Four years ago, a spot of nighttime journalism leaves Darcy Newhart dead - and reborn as a vampire. She didn't choose it, and she hasn't adjusted all that well, and after four years stuck in Roman Draganesti's harem, her opinion of vampire life hasn't improved all that much. Things have changed now for the vampire coven master: he's getting married to a mortal woman, and has kicked the centuries-old harem out of his house. Now Darcy's forging her own path, trying for a spot as news' anchor on the vampire television station, DVN.

Unfortunately, vampires are notoriously chauvinistic, and the going theory is that no one will want to listen to a woman giving the news - they'll be too distracted by her womanly bits. Instead, Darcy's given the chance to direct DVN's first-ever reality TV series, a show where male contestants vie for the position of master to Roman Dragenesti's master-less harem - and a million dollars. Darcy hits upon the idea of calling it The Sexiest Man on Earth, and to add an extra layer of surprise, sets out to recruit a few mortal men to throw into the mix of vampires. She knows a mortal isn't allowed to win - that would cost her her job - but the vampires' general sense of arrogant superiority annoys her enough that she wants to prove human men can be their equals. To a point, anyway. She also has to convince the harem women to take part as the judges, which is no easy feat after their lifetime of indulgence and high expectations.

The undercover Stake-Out team is paying close attention to this new TV show. Their leader, Sean Whellan, is Shanna's - Roman Dragenesti's new wife - father, and he thinks she's been brain-washed and wants to rescue her. Sean doesn't understand that there are two kinds of vampires, the "Vamps" who drink synthetic blood and wouldn't hurt anyone, and the "Malcontents", Russian-based vampires who see it as their right as superior beings to take whatever they want, including mortal lives. Austin Erickson is on the Stake-Out team, and with his high-level telekinesis and telepathic abilities, he's a formidable foe to the vampires. He goes undercover as a contestant on the show to gather intel on the vampires and find out where Shanna is, but his objective becomes muddied after meeting Darcy Newhart, whom he can't take his eyes off.

Austin is sure Darcy is human - she must be, with her thoughts of sun and the beach and her kindness. Vampires, Austin has been taught, are only one thing: evil monsters. Discovering that Darcy is in fact a vampire shakes his world, and her state of being isn't enough to put Austin off. But something has to be sacrificed: his new love for Darcy, or his career with the CIA. Someone will end up betrayed. And he's not entirely sure what he's willing to give up.

The second book in the Love at Stake series is hugely entertaining and so much fun! While there are definitely moments of serious introspection and tension, not to mention life-changing decisions, the tone overall is one of humour, silliness and a playful mockery of reality TV.

I don't watch reality TV shows, whether they're reality game shows or the cameras-inside-the-house type, I can't stand them, I find them incredibly boring and I don't see anything of merit in them at all, but as Darcy, the harem ladies and the contestants work their way through the different tests and elimination rounds, I was engrossed. Being "behind the scenes" was much more fun than watching the edited version on the telly, plus you get the added layer of plot with Austin and one of his co-workers from the Stake-Out team, Garrett, working undercover. Some of the scenarios as well as the harem ladies were really very funny, and as a mortal reader naturally it's fun to see the vampires - so sure of their superiority - get taken in by a couple of mortals.

Darcy is very sweet, with enough backbone in her to propel her forward and make her a strong protagonist. Her situation - having to give up her life, her family, her career all because of an attack by a Malcontent and then being converted by a Vamp in order to save her "life" - is sympathetic because it's one of those "that could have been me" scenarios. Darcy's a modern-day woman and she's now in hiding from the world she used to live in; that has to be tough. The other Vamps had been changed centuries ago, or in times of war or other upheavals, and have no particular attachment to the current age, so that they can have more fun and they've had more time to come to terms with things. Everything's still very fresh for Darcy, and she can see the world she used to belong in but isn't allowed to move around in it. Her character-growth arc was very satisfying, watching her make a place for herself in the Vamp world, make new friends, and ultimately a big decision - it worked well.

Austin is also very likeable. He's a fun blend of modern man, sexy man, dangerous man, skilled man. He's not perfect, but he's relatable, familiar. When he first sees Darcy, he's instantly struck by his lustful desire for her - she ticks all his boxes, and he ticks all of hers. A happy coincidence! Lust turns to love after they spend more time together on the set of the game show. Probably the thing I liked about him the least was the unapologetic way he'd trespass on Darcy's mind and listen to her thoughts. But he makes up for it in other ways. Austin and Darcy have some solid chemistry, and while there's little in the way of graphic sex scenes (I think I remember there being one), there's some very heated kissing and some well-timed interruptions that add to the tension nicely.

I've read quite a few of the books in this series now, having read them slightly out-of-order, but whether you're coming to the second book as a new reader of the series or you've been reading later books before returning to the beginning, like me, Vamps and the City offers great world-building, introduces new characters, and presents a great story that can easily be read as a stand-alone. Reading the first book, , would help supply some backstory to this one, especially in regards to the Stake-Out team and who the kilted vampires are, but it's not hugely necessary. Vamps and the City is a funny, entertaining, well-paced and plotted romp. Makes me remember why I used to love reading Paranormal Romances so much!

THE "LOVE AT STAKE" SERIES:
1.
2.
2.5. A Very Vampy Christmas (e-book only)
3.
4. The Undead Next Door
5. All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire
6.
7.
8.
9.
10. Vampire Mine
11. Sexiest Vampire Alive
12. Wanted: Undead or Alive
13. Wild About You
14. The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo
]]> <![CDATA[The Spirit Thief (The Legend of Eli Monpress, #1)]]> 8097637 Alternate Cover Edition can be found here.

Eli Monpress is talented. He's charming. And he's a thief.

But not just any thief. He's the greatest thief of the age - and he's also a wizard. And with the help of his partners - a swordsman with the most powerful magic sword in the world but no magical ability of his own, and a demonseed who can step through shadows and punch through walls - he's going to put his plan into effect.

The first step is to increase the size of the bounty on his head, so he'll need to steal some big things. But he'll start small for now. He'll just steal something that no one will miss - at least for a while.

Like a king.]]> 310 Rachel Aaron 0316069051 Shannon 4 2013, fantasy, removed
His plan is quite simple: steal the king of Mellinor and hold him to ransom. This they have no trouble pulling off, but there are a couple of things that even Eli couldn't have predicted: First, a real wizard from the Spirit Court, Miranda Lyonette, turns up at the castle gates hot on Eli's trail with her giant ghosthound companion Gin; Secondly, it turns out that King Henrith has an older brother who had been exiled years ago when it was discovered that he was a wizard - this in a country that bans wizards and prohibits their spirit magic. Now that Henrith is in harm's way, Renaud puts his own plan into action - and it's one with a high number of casualties.

With Renaud identified as a threat far greater than Eli, Miranda instead enlists Eli's help - and she'll need it, for Renaud has his sights set on something far greater than a throne, and unleashing it will reveal dark truths about the origins of Mellinor as well as one very powerful and very angry spirit.

Fantasy is a broad genre with lots of room for many different subgenres and types of story. There's your classic Epic Fantasy (or "high fantasy" as it is sometimes called) that tends to follow the now-formualic footprints unsuspectingly laid down by JRR Tolkien; there's the mystery/detective-themed Urban Fantasy set in our own world but with some major and generally paranormal differences; there's the fairy-tale-retelling kind of fantasy that just never grows old; and there's the almost-comic fantasy of which The Spirit Thief is one example. It's not that this is laugh-out-loud funny, but it's a story told in a light tone where often things and people just aren't taken seriously. I'm not sure what to call this kind of fantasy, but it's definitely "fun".

I tend to read more epic fantasy than any other kind, mostly because the stories are more involved, the narrative more detailed, and the characters more thoroughly fleshed-out. I've never been big on detective/crime/mystery stories (though I enjoy the odd "literary" one), which is why I struggle with urban fantasy, but The Spirit Thief contains enough world-building and the kind of fantasy tropes that I enjoy, as well as an entertaining thief, that the plot became hugely enjoyable.

It's plot-driven and swift-paced with lots of action, some exciting and even tense scenes of danger and adventure, and Aaron has achieved a very nice balance of revealing just enough to keep you satisfied with this story and where it's going, while keeping many cards to her chest to make you want to read on in the five-book series. As others have noted, the book manages to toe the fantasy line while also having fun with it, and it's quite clever in that regard. It either sends up standard characters or it takes things in unexpected directions. While overall the story is just as formulaic as most fantasy novels, it has just enough quirks in the details to keep you from getting bored.

While Eli is the "spirit thief", this story is mostly carried by Miranda, who figures a bit more prominently in the story than Eli does. Eli remains something of a mystery - though an increasingly intriguing one - by the end. That works quite well, though to be honest, in this comic-relief style of story, you never really get to know any of the characters. Eli is a character you definitely want to get to know better and figure out, which I think is why Aaron deliberately tantalises you with little hints and mysteries about him. And it doesn't even annoy you! She has a great knack for it. He's roguish and charming and very friendly, as mentioned before, but also seemingly arrogant and selfish - or is he? How much of him is a ploy, a deception, a disguise? Who's the real Eli Monpress? (That said, who is Josef, who is Nico? Lots of mystery and mystique there!)

The lightness of tone and comic relief moments are, as I mentioned, balanced out by a lovely vein of darkness and real danger. There are moments when I was deliciously tense and full of worried anticipation. The magic system, such as it is, is another delight: the idea that everything has a spirit and those spirits can be approached and talked to by those humans born with the ability to hear them and control their own spirit (i.e. wizards), is completely original but is still rare enough to be refreshing. Plus, the spirits themselves can be quite funny.

Readers of Jim C Hines, Terry Pratchett, KE Mills (Karen Miller writing comic fantasy) and other, similar authors will delight in the magic, humour and dark mystery of The Spirit Thief.]]> 3.89 2010 The Spirit Thief (The Legend of Eli Monpress, #1)
author: Rachel Aaron
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.89
book published: 2010
rating: 4
read at: 2013/05/18
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: 2013, fantasy, removed
review:
Eli Monpress has a plan. It's an exciting, ambitious plan that will see yet another kingdom commit money to the already-hefty bounty on his head, making him not just a great thief, but the Greatest. He has plenty of reasons to expect success, too. Eli is a magician, and a charming one at that: rather than make a contract of service between himself and the spirits that are found in all things as the other wizards do, he charms and flatters them until they're falling over themselves to help him. He also has his companions: Josef, a mighty swordsman covered in blades who wields the most powerful sword in the world; and Nico, a demonseed whose true nature is shackled and hidden but from whom the spirits recoil in fear.

His plan is quite simple: steal the king of Mellinor and hold him to ransom. This they have no trouble pulling off, but there are a couple of things that even Eli couldn't have predicted: First, a real wizard from the Spirit Court, Miranda Lyonette, turns up at the castle gates hot on Eli's trail with her giant ghosthound companion Gin; Secondly, it turns out that King Henrith has an older brother who had been exiled years ago when it was discovered that he was a wizard - this in a country that bans wizards and prohibits their spirit magic. Now that Henrith is in harm's way, Renaud puts his own plan into action - and it's one with a high number of casualties.

With Renaud identified as a threat far greater than Eli, Miranda instead enlists Eli's help - and she'll need it, for Renaud has his sights set on something far greater than a throne, and unleashing it will reveal dark truths about the origins of Mellinor as well as one very powerful and very angry spirit.

Fantasy is a broad genre with lots of room for many different subgenres and types of story. There's your classic Epic Fantasy (or "high fantasy" as it is sometimes called) that tends to follow the now-formualic footprints unsuspectingly laid down by JRR Tolkien; there's the mystery/detective-themed Urban Fantasy set in our own world but with some major and generally paranormal differences; there's the fairy-tale-retelling kind of fantasy that just never grows old; and there's the almost-comic fantasy of which The Spirit Thief is one example. It's not that this is laugh-out-loud funny, but it's a story told in a light tone where often things and people just aren't taken seriously. I'm not sure what to call this kind of fantasy, but it's definitely "fun".

I tend to read more epic fantasy than any other kind, mostly because the stories are more involved, the narrative more detailed, and the characters more thoroughly fleshed-out. I've never been big on detective/crime/mystery stories (though I enjoy the odd "literary" one), which is why I struggle with urban fantasy, but The Spirit Thief contains enough world-building and the kind of fantasy tropes that I enjoy, as well as an entertaining thief, that the plot became hugely enjoyable.

It's plot-driven and swift-paced with lots of action, some exciting and even tense scenes of danger and adventure, and Aaron has achieved a very nice balance of revealing just enough to keep you satisfied with this story and where it's going, while keeping many cards to her chest to make you want to read on in the five-book series. As others have noted, the book manages to toe the fantasy line while also having fun with it, and it's quite clever in that regard. It either sends up standard characters or it takes things in unexpected directions. While overall the story is just as formulaic as most fantasy novels, it has just enough quirks in the details to keep you from getting bored.

While Eli is the "spirit thief", this story is mostly carried by Miranda, who figures a bit more prominently in the story than Eli does. Eli remains something of a mystery - though an increasingly intriguing one - by the end. That works quite well, though to be honest, in this comic-relief style of story, you never really get to know any of the characters. Eli is a character you definitely want to get to know better and figure out, which I think is why Aaron deliberately tantalises you with little hints and mysteries about him. And it doesn't even annoy you! She has a great knack for it. He's roguish and charming and very friendly, as mentioned before, but also seemingly arrogant and selfish - or is he? How much of him is a ploy, a deception, a disguise? Who's the real Eli Monpress? (That said, who is Josef, who is Nico? Lots of mystery and mystique there!)

The lightness of tone and comic relief moments are, as I mentioned, balanced out by a lovely vein of darkness and real danger. There are moments when I was deliciously tense and full of worried anticipation. The magic system, such as it is, is another delight: the idea that everything has a spirit and those spirits can be approached and talked to by those humans born with the ability to hear them and control their own spirit (i.e. wizards), is completely original but is still rare enough to be refreshing. Plus, the spirits themselves can be quite funny.

Readers of Jim C Hines, Terry Pratchett, KE Mills (Karen Miller writing comic fantasy) and other, similar authors will delight in the magic, humour and dark mystery of The Spirit Thief.
]]> <![CDATA[Top 100 Finger Foods: 100 Quick and Easy Meals for a Healthy, Happy Child]]> 6066698 160 Annabel Karmel 009192507X Shannon 3
The book is broken down into Breakfast Bites, Versatile Veg, Fun Fish, Finger-Licking Chicken, Meaty Mouthfuls, Simply Snacks and Sweet Treats. There is a very short introduction that touches on finger foods - what's ideal etc.; choking and teething. There really isn't any information here about nutrition, or guidance on giving your baby/toddler things like salt and sugar. And I wouldn't say this is because it's a British book - the other two baby-toddler cookbooks I've yet to review are the same and they're American - but there's an awful lot of salt in these recipes. Not in terms of individual quantities - a pinch or "to taste" isn't a lot of salt - but the truth is, kids this young really don't need any, or much, salt at all, and if you've already added cheese to a dish, why on earth would you add salt on top of that? So this is one of those books that you need to bring your own sense of judgement and nutritional knowledge to bear, as well as your own skill as a cook.

I've tried several recipes from this book, with mixed results. There's a great chicken skewer marinade that I make almost as often as my foolproof honey-soy-ginger one: it's honey, dijon mustard and lemon juice with a tablespoon of oil and a crushed garlic clove, plus I add a bit of water too. The recipe for carrot cupcakes is very good, very light and moist and, yes, better than the one I've been using. Some recipes are no different from the ones I already use - like for quiche - and others aren't suitable for kids as young as my son (19 months) and the other two I look after, so I haven't tried them yet.

I was bemused to see a recipe for chicken rissoles in here - rissoles being one of those things that I associate with 1980s dag-erama, a cheesy lower-middle-class suburban dish (it has tomato ketchup in it) that I've never actually come across in person before - so of course I had to try it, and it's pretty terrible. Some of the recipes are for taking ordinary things and sprucing them up, or a way of serving them that appeals to toddlers. Mostly this is an ideas book, and in that sense it's a good one. I know I struggle to come up with meals sometimes - my memory will just go blank - so a book like this one serves as a good inspirer. But you'll find yourself adapting and modifying the recipes quite a bit I think.

Recipes come with info on how long they take to prepare, how much food they make, whether they're suitable for freezing, and whether they're suitable for under-1-year-olds, as well as cooking tips.

So far, my favourite recipe in this book - and the reason why I'm glad I got it, because I tell ya, it ain't no ! - is the recipe for chicken nuggets. I just , because they are so scrumptious I'm convinced your child will never want to eat those fake-chicken things Macdonald's sells after trying these. [click the link for the recipe]]]> 3.78 2009 Top 100 Finger Foods: 100 Quick and Easy Meals for a Healthy, Happy Child
author: Annabel Karmel
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.78
book published: 2009
rating: 3
read at: 2013/02/01
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: cooking, non-fiction, 2013, removed
review:
Annabel Karmel is a bit of a big deal in the baby-toddler industry over in Britain; I heard of her through a friend of mine who's from London. Karmel is famous for her Meal Planners, which frankly don't appeal to me at all, but my friend had this book and there were several meals I wanted to try so I do what I usually do - not ask to borrow the book, but get my own copy. (Just as well, there's already quite a bit of food stains on it!)

The book is broken down into Breakfast Bites, Versatile Veg, Fun Fish, Finger-Licking Chicken, Meaty Mouthfuls, Simply Snacks and Sweet Treats. There is a very short introduction that touches on finger foods - what's ideal etc.; choking and teething. There really isn't any information here about nutrition, or guidance on giving your baby/toddler things like salt and sugar. And I wouldn't say this is because it's a British book - the other two baby-toddler cookbooks I've yet to review are the same and they're American - but there's an awful lot of salt in these recipes. Not in terms of individual quantities - a pinch or "to taste" isn't a lot of salt - but the truth is, kids this young really don't need any, or much, salt at all, and if you've already added cheese to a dish, why on earth would you add salt on top of that? So this is one of those books that you need to bring your own sense of judgement and nutritional knowledge to bear, as well as your own skill as a cook.

I've tried several recipes from this book, with mixed results. There's a great chicken skewer marinade that I make almost as often as my foolproof honey-soy-ginger one: it's honey, dijon mustard and lemon juice with a tablespoon of oil and a crushed garlic clove, plus I add a bit of water too. The recipe for carrot cupcakes is very good, very light and moist and, yes, better than the one I've been using. Some recipes are no different from the ones I already use - like for quiche - and others aren't suitable for kids as young as my son (19 months) and the other two I look after, so I haven't tried them yet.

I was bemused to see a recipe for chicken rissoles in here - rissoles being one of those things that I associate with 1980s dag-erama, a cheesy lower-middle-class suburban dish (it has tomato ketchup in it) that I've never actually come across in person before - so of course I had to try it, and it's pretty terrible. Some of the recipes are for taking ordinary things and sprucing them up, or a way of serving them that appeals to toddlers. Mostly this is an ideas book, and in that sense it's a good one. I know I struggle to come up with meals sometimes - my memory will just go blank - so a book like this one serves as a good inspirer. But you'll find yourself adapting and modifying the recipes quite a bit I think.

Recipes come with info on how long they take to prepare, how much food they make, whether they're suitable for freezing, and whether they're suitable for under-1-year-olds, as well as cooking tips.

So far, my favourite recipe in this book - and the reason why I'm glad I got it, because I tell ya, it ain't no ! - is the recipe for chicken nuggets. I just , because they are so scrumptious I'm convinced your child will never want to eat those fake-chicken things Macdonald's sells after trying these. [click the link for the recipe]
]]> <![CDATA[Six Sisters' Stuff: Family Recipes, Fun Crafts, and So Much More]]> 17085958 200 Six Sisters' Stuff 160907324X Shannon 2


It's a fantastic idea, to use a blog to share things between siblings like this. I have three older sisters and a younger brother and I live on the other side of the planet from them, but we all have our separate blogs and interests and tend to share things in person, which means, sniff sniff, that I get left out a bit. I also love how the sisters promote and encourage people to have leisurely, sit-down family meals, something that, in urban centres at least, can be sacrificed at times. For the month of March, the sisters are running a challenge called the .

While the website has loads of great recipes and ideas - currently they have up that are super cute - I have to say that I was largely disappointed by the cookbook, and also, that I am not its ideal customer/reader. The main reason is a simple one: this food is ultra foreign to me, it's not the way I like to cook, and a lot of it simply doesn't appeal to me.

By "foreign", I mean that I have rarely eaten this kind of food, which I would call American, and when I have I didn't care for it. It's generally too rich and heavy, and I have a pretty sensitive tummy. The United States definitely has its own cuisine and culinary style, and richly diverse ones at that, but a lot of their classic dishes and ways of cooking things just doesn't appeal to me - and the things that do appeal and look incredibly yummy, also tend to be too rich for me. You probably have to grow up with a country's cuisine to really like and appreciate it.

There is a running theme of salt, fat and sugar in this book, and by "fat" I mean an awful lot of cream cheese and sour cream. Which are useful ingredients, I just wouldn't recommend that anyone eat this kind of food every day, or even once a week. Now and then would work, unless you modify the recipes. They're not all like that, though, and there were some I wanted to try (more on that later).

I was disappointed by how many processed or pre-made ingredients the recipes contain. I'm something of a snob in this regard: I love to cook and bake, but if I'm going to go to the trouble of making something, I'm going to make it from scratch (or near enough - I'm not going to make my own puff pastry, for example). Too many recipes here use cans of this or that, or pre-made dough, or cake mixes (though I did really appreciate that they included from-scratch recipes for cream-of-chicken soup, which they use a lot of, and the dry herb mix for ranch dressing). I understand that many people use these kinds of things as ingredients to make cooking easier and less stressful, but I don't happen to be one of those people. It's not easier for me, it's just ... fake-tasting. Sorry, but it is. You train your tastebuds one way, which is why we all like different things.

I have a real aversion to processed food (including cheese like Kraft and that horrid orange stuff) and pre-made this or that, from pasta sauces to frozen meals, because they're full of so many extra ingredients - often ones you can't even pronounce - and a shit-load of salt, and there's no way you can really control your intake of those ingredients when you buy this kind of thing (I'm very interested in this topic, which is why I've ordered Michael Moss' new book, ). Since I do use bought bouillon or stock, for example, or sweet chilli sauce, which all have a lot of additives and sodium, I try to balance it out by cutting out added salt etc. One day I'd love to make my own homemade tomato sauce (ketchup) and things like that, but I'm not there yet.

The great thing, of course, is that we all enjoy adapting recipes, tweaking them to suit our own palates, and there's no reason why you can't do that here. The sisters themselves love to experiment, which is how they come up with these recipes. The recipes are divided up into Main Dishes, Slow Cooker dishes, Sides, Salads, Breads and Desserts. The salads section include several recipes that contain marshmallows. This is what I mean by this cookbook being so foreign to me. How do marshmallows constitute a salad? One has apples and Snickers. Pretty sure that you can't make junk food healthful by adding fruit or vegetables! I can't see myself ever making a marshmallow salad. I don't mind marshmallows, occasionally, especially cooked over a campfire, but recipes like "Orange Fluff Jell-O Salad" made with pudding mix, orange-flavoured gelatin (do they mean jelly?), and something hideous called "nondairy whipped topping" (what is that? It can't be good for you with a name like that!) just plain scare me. Another contains a lot of sour cream, while a third, yay! uses yoghurt.

I don't own a slow cooker and I have no plans for getting one (I think my husband's grandmother gave us one once and we quickly re-gifted it), but you can easily use the oven instead, which I did when I tried one of the recipes from the Slow Cooker section. I would have liked some direction in that regard, like a temperature suggestion, but it's not a big deal (I figured 160ºC, which is a "slow" oven). The Breads section seemed a bit of a cheat to me on the whole, though I can see that for people who already use things like "rise and bake frozen rolls" or refrigerated pizza dough or Pilsbury or Bisquick products or cans of refrigerated buttermilk biscuits, whatever that is, these will be very useful variations for people to try (there are a few from-scratch recipes but I haven't tried them yet). There's not much from here I can try to make, though, without the actual bread recipe - which is a shame, because the Blackberry Cream Cheese Danish looks amazing.

I loved the look of some of the treats - biscuits, slices and truffles - but almost all of them use cake mixes as their base, or other pre-prepared food stuff, so they will require more imagination and adaptation from me than I feel confident with - just wait for my attempt to make the Andes Mint Cookies, which looked amazing in the book. (As an aside, I don't understand why people don't make cakes etc. from scratch - it's super easy, doesn't use elaborate ingredients - flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk are the basics - and tastes way better too. Food made from mixes always taste a bit fake to me. I can always tell when someone's used a packet mix.) They also look very sweet and, some of them, a bit sickly-sweet - again, these aren't the kinds of cakes, biscuits (cookies), slices (bars) or cupcakes I've grown up with, but I'm a good-enough baker (and I love my sweet stuff!) to be able to tell how something's going to taste by looking at the ingredients and the picture. It's often all about texture, too - I heard once that it's texture rather than taste that defines our likes and dislikes when it comes to food.

The book isn't just about food, though. There are some clever craft ideas, like how to make an ice-cream piñata, or pallet bookshelves (two ideas I'd love to try one day). They have 14 ideas for Valentines - fourteen things you can do with your partner in the lead-up to Valentines, which are very cute and revolve around puns. The "much more" encompasses some helpful lists: 50 Fun Date Ideas, 100 Healthy Snack Ideas, 101 Fun, Easy and Cheap Indoor Activities for Kids, 40 Road Trip Ideas for Kids, which are very handy. They also have a Spring Cleaning Checklist which is rather terrifying, and a "Build your 72-Hour Kit in 52 Weeks" - my first thought was, "What's a 72-hour kit?" but looking at the list, I gather it's some kind of survival kit.

The book has great presentation, in full colour and easy-to-read text, and every recipe has a photo, which is really important to me. It's a shame that many of the photos are out-of-focus but the overall visual is still there.

I realise that all this must make me sound neurotic or fussy or just really uptight and boring, but actually I'm not, I'm just really passionate about good quality food and the truth is, you save money by cutting out the processed food and junk food and buying fresh ingredients instead, which can be used for multiple meals. It's a myth that buying good food costs more than buying junk. Try it one day: go to the supermarket or the green grocer or wherever you like to go, and only buy veg, fruit, milk, butter etc. - those kinds of everyday basics. Go another time and buy all the junk and pre-made stuff, and compare. It's amazing how much veg you can buy for twenty dollars. The next step is having the time to cook good quality meals, and it's true that things can get fiddly and take longer than you expected. But meals don't have to be complicated at all, and there are plenty of simple dishes you can make relatively easily. Making a cheese sauce for pasta that uses butter, flour, milk, cheese and seasoning takes no longer than getting out a packet mix, to be perfectly honest. (If you want a really good recommendation for great, simple recipes then look no farther than , he's my go-to celebrity chef.)

This review should, I hope, give you a good idea of what to expect in this book, because I'm sure it will appeal to a lot of people (especially Americans??), but if you're more like me and you're someone who likes making things from scratch, and avoids using processed food as much as possible, then this probably isn't the book for you. Nevertheless, as part of the , I picked out four recipes to try to go along with this review, and I will be posting a new one each week for the rest of March, starting today with their recipe for Baked Sweet and Sour Chicken. I was really happy to find this here - and find that it was a recipe that I could easily make - because I've never come across a recipe for it before. And it was yummy. Not something I could eat very often, but definitely worth making. I'll list the recipes here and add the links after I post them on my blog:

9th March:
16th March:
23rd March:
30th March: Slow Cooker Honey Sesame Chicken

(Noticing a theme? Yeah I don't just cook for me, I had to pick things the kids and partner would eat too.)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 4.11 2012 Six Sisters' Stuff: Family Recipes, Fun Crafts, and So Much More
author: Six Sisters' Stuff
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.11
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/03/01
date added: 2024/02/24
shelves: non-fiction, cooking, crafts, 2013, removed
review:
The six sisters - Camille, Kristen, Elyse, Stephanie, Lauren and Kendra - grew up in Utah and now live all over the place. In order to help keep in touch and swap great ideas as they begin their own families, they started a blog in early 2011, . Their blog became so popular that a selection of their recipes, craft ideas and tip sheets have been put together in a brand-new cookbook, which I was very excited to get a copy for review from the publisher.



It's a fantastic idea, to use a blog to share things between siblings like this. I have three older sisters and a younger brother and I live on the other side of the planet from them, but we all have our separate blogs and interests and tend to share things in person, which means, sniff sniff, that I get left out a bit. I also love how the sisters promote and encourage people to have leisurely, sit-down family meals, something that, in urban centres at least, can be sacrificed at times. For the month of March, the sisters are running a challenge called the .

While the website has loads of great recipes and ideas - currently they have up that are super cute - I have to say that I was largely disappointed by the cookbook, and also, that I am not its ideal customer/reader. The main reason is a simple one: this food is ultra foreign to me, it's not the way I like to cook, and a lot of it simply doesn't appeal to me.

By "foreign", I mean that I have rarely eaten this kind of food, which I would call American, and when I have I didn't care for it. It's generally too rich and heavy, and I have a pretty sensitive tummy. The United States definitely has its own cuisine and culinary style, and richly diverse ones at that, but a lot of their classic dishes and ways of cooking things just doesn't appeal to me - and the things that do appeal and look incredibly yummy, also tend to be too rich for me. You probably have to grow up with a country's cuisine to really like and appreciate it.

There is a running theme of salt, fat and sugar in this book, and by "fat" I mean an awful lot of cream cheese and sour cream. Which are useful ingredients, I just wouldn't recommend that anyone eat this kind of food every day, or even once a week. Now and then would work, unless you modify the recipes. They're not all like that, though, and there were some I wanted to try (more on that later).

I was disappointed by how many processed or pre-made ingredients the recipes contain. I'm something of a snob in this regard: I love to cook and bake, but if I'm going to go to the trouble of making something, I'm going to make it from scratch (or near enough - I'm not going to make my own puff pastry, for example). Too many recipes here use cans of this or that, or pre-made dough, or cake mixes (though I did really appreciate that they included from-scratch recipes for cream-of-chicken soup, which they use a lot of, and the dry herb mix for ranch dressing). I understand that many people use these kinds of things as ingredients to make cooking easier and less stressful, but I don't happen to be one of those people. It's not easier for me, it's just ... fake-tasting. Sorry, but it is. You train your tastebuds one way, which is why we all like different things.

I have a real aversion to processed food (including cheese like Kraft and that horrid orange stuff) and pre-made this or that, from pasta sauces to frozen meals, because they're full of so many extra ingredients - often ones you can't even pronounce - and a shit-load of salt, and there's no way you can really control your intake of those ingredients when you buy this kind of thing (I'm very interested in this topic, which is why I've ordered Michael Moss' new book, ). Since I do use bought bouillon or stock, for example, or sweet chilli sauce, which all have a lot of additives and sodium, I try to balance it out by cutting out added salt etc. One day I'd love to make my own homemade tomato sauce (ketchup) and things like that, but I'm not there yet.

The great thing, of course, is that we all enjoy adapting recipes, tweaking them to suit our own palates, and there's no reason why you can't do that here. The sisters themselves love to experiment, which is how they come up with these recipes. The recipes are divided up into Main Dishes, Slow Cooker dishes, Sides, Salads, Breads and Desserts. The salads section include several recipes that contain marshmallows. This is what I mean by this cookbook being so foreign to me. How do marshmallows constitute a salad? One has apples and Snickers. Pretty sure that you can't make junk food healthful by adding fruit or vegetables! I can't see myself ever making a marshmallow salad. I don't mind marshmallows, occasionally, especially cooked over a campfire, but recipes like "Orange Fluff Jell-O Salad" made with pudding mix, orange-flavoured gelatin (do they mean jelly?), and something hideous called "nondairy whipped topping" (what is that? It can't be good for you with a name like that!) just plain scare me. Another contains a lot of sour cream, while a third, yay! uses yoghurt.

I don't own a slow cooker and I have no plans for getting one (I think my husband's grandmother gave us one once and we quickly re-gifted it), but you can easily use the oven instead, which I did when I tried one of the recipes from the Slow Cooker section. I would have liked some direction in that regard, like a temperature suggestion, but it's not a big deal (I figured 160ºC, which is a "slow" oven). The Breads section seemed a bit of a cheat to me on the whole, though I can see that for people who already use things like "rise and bake frozen rolls" or refrigerated pizza dough or Pilsbury or Bisquick products or cans of refrigerated buttermilk biscuits, whatever that is, these will be very useful variations for people to try (there are a few from-scratch recipes but I haven't tried them yet). There's not much from here I can try to make, though, without the actual bread recipe - which is a shame, because the Blackberry Cream Cheese Danish looks amazing.

I loved the look of some of the treats - biscuits, slices and truffles - but almost all of them use cake mixes as their base, or other pre-prepared food stuff, so they will require more imagination and adaptation from me than I feel confident with - just wait for my attempt to make the Andes Mint Cookies, which looked amazing in the book. (As an aside, I don't understand why people don't make cakes etc. from scratch - it's super easy, doesn't use elaborate ingredients - flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk are the basics - and tastes way better too. Food made from mixes always taste a bit fake to me. I can always tell when someone's used a packet mix.) They also look very sweet and, some of them, a bit sickly-sweet - again, these aren't the kinds of cakes, biscuits (cookies), slices (bars) or cupcakes I've grown up with, but I'm a good-enough baker (and I love my sweet stuff!) to be able to tell how something's going to taste by looking at the ingredients and the picture. It's often all about texture, too - I heard once that it's texture rather than taste that defines our likes and dislikes when it comes to food.

The book isn't just about food, though. There are some clever craft ideas, like how to make an ice-cream piñata, or pallet bookshelves (two ideas I'd love to try one day). They have 14 ideas for Valentines - fourteen things you can do with your partner in the lead-up to Valentines, which are very cute and revolve around puns. The "much more" encompasses some helpful lists: 50 Fun Date Ideas, 100 Healthy Snack Ideas, 101 Fun, Easy and Cheap Indoor Activities for Kids, 40 Road Trip Ideas for Kids, which are very handy. They also have a Spring Cleaning Checklist which is rather terrifying, and a "Build your 72-Hour Kit in 52 Weeks" - my first thought was, "What's a 72-hour kit?" but looking at the list, I gather it's some kind of survival kit.

The book has great presentation, in full colour and easy-to-read text, and every recipe has a photo, which is really important to me. It's a shame that many of the photos are out-of-focus but the overall visual is still there.

I realise that all this must make me sound neurotic or fussy or just really uptight and boring, but actually I'm not, I'm just really passionate about good quality food and the truth is, you save money by cutting out the processed food and junk food and buying fresh ingredients instead, which can be used for multiple meals. It's a myth that buying good food costs more than buying junk. Try it one day: go to the supermarket or the green grocer or wherever you like to go, and only buy veg, fruit, milk, butter etc. - those kinds of everyday basics. Go another time and buy all the junk and pre-made stuff, and compare. It's amazing how much veg you can buy for twenty dollars. The next step is having the time to cook good quality meals, and it's true that things can get fiddly and take longer than you expected. But meals don't have to be complicated at all, and there are plenty of simple dishes you can make relatively easily. Making a cheese sauce for pasta that uses butter, flour, milk, cheese and seasoning takes no longer than getting out a packet mix, to be perfectly honest. (If you want a really good recommendation for great, simple recipes then look no farther than , he's my go-to celebrity chef.)

This review should, I hope, give you a good idea of what to expect in this book, because I'm sure it will appeal to a lot of people (especially Americans??), but if you're more like me and you're someone who likes making things from scratch, and avoids using processed food as much as possible, then this probably isn't the book for you. Nevertheless, as part of the , I picked out four recipes to try to go along with this review, and I will be posting a new one each week for the rest of March, starting today with their recipe for Baked Sweet and Sour Chicken. I was really happy to find this here - and find that it was a recipe that I could easily make - because I've never come across a recipe for it before. And it was yummy. Not something I could eat very often, but definitely worth making. I'll list the recipes here and add the links after I post them on my blog:

9th March:
16th March:
23rd March:
30th March: Slow Cooker Honey Sesame Chicken

(Noticing a theme? Yeah I don't just cook for me, I had to pick things the kids and partner would eat too.)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> Die for Me (Revenants, #1) 9462812
When Kate Mercier's parents die in a tragic car accident, she leaves her life--and memories--behind to live with her grandparents in Paris. For Kate, the only way to survive her pain is escaping into the world of books and Parisian art. Until she meets Vincent.

Mysterious, charming, and devastatingly handsome, Vincent threatens to melt the ice around Kate's guarded heart with just his smile. As she begins to fall in love with Vincent, Kate discovers that he's a revenant--an undead being whose fate forces him to sacrifice himself over and over again to save the lives of others. Vincent and those like him are bound in a centuries-old war against a group of evil revenants who exist only to murder and betray. Kate soon realizes that if she follows her heart, she may never be safe again.]]> 341 Amy Plum 0062004018 Shannon 2
After seeing him the first time at the cafe, Kate next sees him while she and Georgia are taking a midnight walk along the river - he's on the bridge, trying to talk a girl out of jumping. Underneath the bridge, they hear a fight - with swords. One of the other men Kate's seen the mystery boy with comes to lead them away. She finally meets him - Vincent - properly at the Picasso museum, and a flirtatious friendship begins. But Kate is aware that something is a bit off with Vincent and his friends, right from the beginning - or from the moment she watched him dive off a bridge to save a girl's life while his friends battled unseen foes. When she follows him and one of the others, Jules, into the Metro after overhearing a confusing conversation, she witnesses something unbelievable and shocking: a man jumps onto the tracks in front of the train, and Jules jumps down too, pushes him out of the way and takes the hit.

Kate can't understand why Vincent is so calm about it and doesn't seem upset that his friend just died. Unable to comprehend it, she severs the friendship. But while researching the Paris riots of 1968 she comes across a death notice for Vincent, and his friend Ambrose - the names were different, but the photos were exact matches, give a change of hairstyle. They were firefighters, the obituaries said, who died saving people from a building fire. But it's when she sees Jules, alive and well though denying knowing her, that Kate realises the only way she'll be able to make sense of any of this is to go to Vincent, and get answers.

Vincent and his friends - Jules, Ambrose, twins Charlotte and Charles, an older man called Gaspard and an old man called Jean-Baptiste, the leader of the group - live in one of Paris' private palaces, one of Jean-Baptiste's many properties throughout France. Convincing Jean-Baptiste to let her in to write Vincent a letter, since he's unavailable, she finds herself alone and in the position to do some snooping. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Vincent on his bed, dead. Only, he's not dead. He's something else, something more. A Revenant. He dies for other people. They all do, this group of mostly young people, and they have dangerous enemies too.

Kate's just lived through the experience of her parents dying, way too young. Can she continue beings friends - no, more than friends, something deeper and more lasting, with Vincent, only to watch him die again and again? What is the cost to herself, and can she pay it? Can she love him enough to stay with him?

I am feeling a bit mixed about this book; since finishing it last week, the things I liked about it have faded away almost completely. It is well written, I loved the Paris setting, and I liked the new paranormal element: the revenants, which is a very interesting concept and nicely played out. It is lacking some of the more frustrating, common elements of YA paranormal romance, though it does still have a bit of "insta-love" as others have called: instantly falling in love with one look at the beautiful boy across the way. Still, Kate kept a level head, didn't do anything too silly, and overall was a pretty decent teenage role model. Though she still put Vincent on a pedestal.

Right about now, you've probably spotted where I'm going with this. Die For Me is, for better or worse, the anti-novel. Or the anti-Twilight novel. I had the strong sense that Plum had taken all the things that annoyed her - or rather, all the things that readers hated about the Twilight series, from Edward's stalker and over-protective behaviour to Bella's apparent uselessness - and rewritten them. It bears a lot of similarities, not just because it follows a format common to the genre. Vincent is a patient, understanding young man who backs off when Kate demands space, and who (mostly) stays away when she breaks up with him. He's still god-like, to Kate's eyes anyway, and he's still immortal. His friends could easily be stand-ins for the Cullens: Ambrose, the big muscular black guy with the goofy sense of humour, is Emmett. Charlotte with her pixie haircut is Alice. I suppose Jules and Charles are the two sides of Jacob: Jules is always half-jokingly hitting on Kate and Charles is full of angst and anger. You've got tongue-tied poet Gaspard and J-B as the parent figures. None of this is important, of course, it's just something that really stood out to me.

Not to mention all the in-jokes. There're plenty of references to vampires and the fact that Vincent's not one, and other comments that seem to make fun of Twilight, like Vincent reassuring Kate he's not stalking her. None of this bothered me - I loved the Twilight series but I don't take it seriously. It's hard not to see comparison in books that follow, and that have so much in common. It's just that, with Plum's novel, I got the distinct impression that it was all deliberate, which gave it a tone of self-consciousness - and, even, smug superiority - that I hate finding in books. Possibly my only point in mentioning this is that, if you hated Twilight, you'll probably love Die For Me. (Then again, if you loved Twilight, you'll probably enjoy this, since it is paranormal romance and follows much the same structure and formula.)

Where I struggled with Die For Me was in regards to structure and timing, a lack of real chemistry between Kate and Vincent - this tends to happen when you remove the intensity typical of paranormal romance and let plot and world-building take over the story - and a heroine whom I found, at times, to be a bit wishy-washy and lacklustre.

There's a lot of new information to be doled out in this first volume, and some of it came just too late to appease my feelings of frustration and confusion. Vincent is very forth-coming about who and what he is, but in the interests of not over-loading Kate, the text and readers all at once, it's spread out. The problem was, I didn't fully understand what had happened early on in the novel until near the end, when I finally got the pieces I needed to have a clear picture. By then, I was a bit irritated at not knowing. I can't help but feel frustrated when the main character doesn't ask what, to me, seem like the most obvious questions. I find it very distracting, though not enough to ruin a book on its own.

Kate and Vincent were very likeable, but - dare I say it - too goody-goody-two-shoes for me. Everyone has flaws, weaknesses, or moments of weakness. Quirks of character. Things that make us interesting, unique, in small ways or big ones. I found Kate to be very ordinary, and a replica of the classic book-loving, always-reading, quietly-passionate but surprisingly-obtuse heroine common to YA. Sure I can identify with a girl who loves to read. But when that's the only thing that really distinguishes her character, I tend to lose interest pretty quickly. What kept me reading was wanting to find out what the deal was with Vincent and his friends, in detail. And I love a good romance. Keeping in mind that I'm not really Plum's intended, juvenile audience, but an adult who's read some pretty, a-hem, risque stuff over the years, the romance was disappointingly bland for me. That's not to say I don't enjoy quieter, slow-burning love stories - I do, they're probably my favourite kind. But I need some intensity, a tangible sense of tension, a back-and-forth play of wills maybe, or just straight-out sincerity. I'm not effusive with my emotions in real life, but I love living vicariously - and feeling it - through books. I didn't feel it with this one. I didn't really feel much at all.

The things that I enjoyed and the things that disappointed me are balancing each other in my reaction to this book, leaving me feeling like I'm on the fence. There were parts I really enjoyed, and other parts that were way too obvious. Like Lucien, it was blatantly obvious what the deal was with him as soon as we meet him. And I found myself feeling almost indignant that Kate is praised for not running away "like anyone else would have done" at the end, when in fact that was the first thing she did try to do! Was that forgotten in the final edit? And why did she attempt to flee, leaving Vincent's body completely vulnerable? In that moment, she seemed like a fraud. At least admit to a moment of human weakness, I'd respect her for it more.

I failed to make a real emotional connection with the main characters, and that meant that the story couldn't really hold me. I only felt moderately interested in the evolving plot, which was very simple and quite uneventful. Usually, the romance side of things provides ample entertainment in the place of an action-packed plot, but that wasn't the case here. I'm not sure that I completely liked Vincent - I'm not sure I completely trust him, even though there's no reason not to; and I found Kate pretty lacklustre at best. All my criticisms aside, I did find the writing to be solid and smooth, and I have respect for that. Especially considering I don't find very many YA novels to be all that well written. Where the writing faltered was in constructing plot, main characters and romance. You'd think, in that case, that the writing wasn't any good at all, but I have to be fair and say that my negatives on this one are mostly subjective. A different personality type will probably find that there is plenty of chemistry between Vincent and Kate, etc., and I want to allow for that.

Will I read the next book? I don't feel any particular urge to do so. I'm not terribly interested in where the story goes from here, because without a great romance, or an exciting plot, or characters that felt real and interesting to me, I have no motivation to invest more time in the story.
]]> 3.98 2011 Die for Me (Revenants, #1)
author: Amy Plum
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.98
book published: 2011
rating: 2
read at: 2013/01/17
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, paranormal, romance, 2013, removed
review:
In the wake of their parents' death in a car accident, teenage sisters Georgia and Kate move to Paris to live with their paternal grandparents. They each have their own ways of grieving: Georgia, the attractive, social older sister, goes out almost every night, clubbing and making friends, though Kate hears her sobbing at night sometimes. Kate, on the other hand, is a quieter, bookish type, and holes up in her room, unwilling to go out. Finally her sister convinces her to at least go to a cafe and read, if read is all she wants to do. It's there, at the cafe Kate goes to almost every day to read on the patio, that she sees the boys for the first time - in particular, one dark-haired gorgeous boy and his two friends.

After seeing him the first time at the cafe, Kate next sees him while she and Georgia are taking a midnight walk along the river - he's on the bridge, trying to talk a girl out of jumping. Underneath the bridge, they hear a fight - with swords. One of the other men Kate's seen the mystery boy with comes to lead them away. She finally meets him - Vincent - properly at the Picasso museum, and a flirtatious friendship begins. But Kate is aware that something is a bit off with Vincent and his friends, right from the beginning - or from the moment she watched him dive off a bridge to save a girl's life while his friends battled unseen foes. When she follows him and one of the others, Jules, into the Metro after overhearing a confusing conversation, she witnesses something unbelievable and shocking: a man jumps onto the tracks in front of the train, and Jules jumps down too, pushes him out of the way and takes the hit.

Kate can't understand why Vincent is so calm about it and doesn't seem upset that his friend just died. Unable to comprehend it, she severs the friendship. But while researching the Paris riots of 1968 she comes across a death notice for Vincent, and his friend Ambrose - the names were different, but the photos were exact matches, give a change of hairstyle. They were firefighters, the obituaries said, who died saving people from a building fire. But it's when she sees Jules, alive and well though denying knowing her, that Kate realises the only way she'll be able to make sense of any of this is to go to Vincent, and get answers.

Vincent and his friends - Jules, Ambrose, twins Charlotte and Charles, an older man called Gaspard and an old man called Jean-Baptiste, the leader of the group - live in one of Paris' private palaces, one of Jean-Baptiste's many properties throughout France. Convincing Jean-Baptiste to let her in to write Vincent a letter, since he's unavailable, she finds herself alone and in the position to do some snooping. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Vincent on his bed, dead. Only, he's not dead. He's something else, something more. A Revenant. He dies for other people. They all do, this group of mostly young people, and they have dangerous enemies too.

Kate's just lived through the experience of her parents dying, way too young. Can she continue beings friends - no, more than friends, something deeper and more lasting, with Vincent, only to watch him die again and again? What is the cost to herself, and can she pay it? Can she love him enough to stay with him?

I am feeling a bit mixed about this book; since finishing it last week, the things I liked about it have faded away almost completely. It is well written, I loved the Paris setting, and I liked the new paranormal element: the revenants, which is a very interesting concept and nicely played out. It is lacking some of the more frustrating, common elements of YA paranormal romance, though it does still have a bit of "insta-love" as others have called: instantly falling in love with one look at the beautiful boy across the way. Still, Kate kept a level head, didn't do anything too silly, and overall was a pretty decent teenage role model. Though she still put Vincent on a pedestal.

Right about now, you've probably spotted where I'm going with this. Die For Me is, for better or worse, the anti-novel. Or the anti-Twilight novel. I had the strong sense that Plum had taken all the things that annoyed her - or rather, all the things that readers hated about the Twilight series, from Edward's stalker and over-protective behaviour to Bella's apparent uselessness - and rewritten them. It bears a lot of similarities, not just because it follows a format common to the genre. Vincent is a patient, understanding young man who backs off when Kate demands space, and who (mostly) stays away when she breaks up with him. He's still god-like, to Kate's eyes anyway, and he's still immortal. His friends could easily be stand-ins for the Cullens: Ambrose, the big muscular black guy with the goofy sense of humour, is Emmett. Charlotte with her pixie haircut is Alice. I suppose Jules and Charles are the two sides of Jacob: Jules is always half-jokingly hitting on Kate and Charles is full of angst and anger. You've got tongue-tied poet Gaspard and J-B as the parent figures. None of this is important, of course, it's just something that really stood out to me.

Not to mention all the in-jokes. There're plenty of references to vampires and the fact that Vincent's not one, and other comments that seem to make fun of Twilight, like Vincent reassuring Kate he's not stalking her. None of this bothered me - I loved the Twilight series but I don't take it seriously. It's hard not to see comparison in books that follow, and that have so much in common. It's just that, with Plum's novel, I got the distinct impression that it was all deliberate, which gave it a tone of self-consciousness - and, even, smug superiority - that I hate finding in books. Possibly my only point in mentioning this is that, if you hated Twilight, you'll probably love Die For Me. (Then again, if you loved Twilight, you'll probably enjoy this, since it is paranormal romance and follows much the same structure and formula.)

Where I struggled with Die For Me was in regards to structure and timing, a lack of real chemistry between Kate and Vincent - this tends to happen when you remove the intensity typical of paranormal romance and let plot and world-building take over the story - and a heroine whom I found, at times, to be a bit wishy-washy and lacklustre.

There's a lot of new information to be doled out in this first volume, and some of it came just too late to appease my feelings of frustration and confusion. Vincent is very forth-coming about who and what he is, but in the interests of not over-loading Kate, the text and readers all at once, it's spread out. The problem was, I didn't fully understand what had happened early on in the novel until near the end, when I finally got the pieces I needed to have a clear picture. By then, I was a bit irritated at not knowing. I can't help but feel frustrated when the main character doesn't ask what, to me, seem like the most obvious questions. I find it very distracting, though not enough to ruin a book on its own.

Kate and Vincent were very likeable, but - dare I say it - too goody-goody-two-shoes for me. Everyone has flaws, weaknesses, or moments of weakness. Quirks of character. Things that make us interesting, unique, in small ways or big ones. I found Kate to be very ordinary, and a replica of the classic book-loving, always-reading, quietly-passionate but surprisingly-obtuse heroine common to YA. Sure I can identify with a girl who loves to read. But when that's the only thing that really distinguishes her character, I tend to lose interest pretty quickly. What kept me reading was wanting to find out what the deal was with Vincent and his friends, in detail. And I love a good romance. Keeping in mind that I'm not really Plum's intended, juvenile audience, but an adult who's read some pretty, a-hem, risque stuff over the years, the romance was disappointingly bland for me. That's not to say I don't enjoy quieter, slow-burning love stories - I do, they're probably my favourite kind. But I need some intensity, a tangible sense of tension, a back-and-forth play of wills maybe, or just straight-out sincerity. I'm not effusive with my emotions in real life, but I love living vicariously - and feeling it - through books. I didn't feel it with this one. I didn't really feel much at all.

The things that I enjoyed and the things that disappointed me are balancing each other in my reaction to this book, leaving me feeling like I'm on the fence. There were parts I really enjoyed, and other parts that were way too obvious. Like Lucien, it was blatantly obvious what the deal was with him as soon as we meet him. And I found myself feeling almost indignant that Kate is praised for not running away "like anyone else would have done" at the end, when in fact that was the first thing she did try to do! Was that forgotten in the final edit? And why did she attempt to flee, leaving Vincent's body completely vulnerable? In that moment, she seemed like a fraud. At least admit to a moment of human weakness, I'd respect her for it more.

I failed to make a real emotional connection with the main characters, and that meant that the story couldn't really hold me. I only felt moderately interested in the evolving plot, which was very simple and quite uneventful. Usually, the romance side of things provides ample entertainment in the place of an action-packed plot, but that wasn't the case here. I'm not sure that I completely liked Vincent - I'm not sure I completely trust him, even though there's no reason not to; and I found Kate pretty lacklustre at best. All my criticisms aside, I did find the writing to be solid and smooth, and I have respect for that. Especially considering I don't find very many YA novels to be all that well written. Where the writing faltered was in constructing plot, main characters and romance. You'd think, in that case, that the writing wasn't any good at all, but I have to be fair and say that my negatives on this one are mostly subjective. A different personality type will probably find that there is plenty of chemistry between Vincent and Kate, etc., and I want to allow for that.

Will I read the next book? I don't feel any particular urge to do so. I'm not terribly interested in where the story goes from here, because without a great romance, or an exciting plot, or characters that felt real and interesting to me, I have no motivation to invest more time in the story.

]]> Hourglass (Hourglass, #1) 12733253  
For seventeen-year-old Emerson Cole, life is about seeing what isn’t swooning Southern Belles; soldiers long forgotten; a haunting jazz trio that vanishes in an instant. Plagued by phantoms since her parents’ death, she just wants the apparitions to stop so she can be normal. She’s tried everything, but the visions keep coming back.

So when her well-meaning brother brings in a consultant from a secretive organization called the Hourglass, Emerson’s willing to try one last cure. But meeting Michael Weaver may not only change her future, it may change her past.
Who is this dark, mysterious, sympathetic guy, barely older than Emerson herself, who seems to believe every crazy word she says? Why does an electric charge seem to run through the room whenever he’s around? And why is he so insistent that he needs her help to prevent a death that never should have happened?
 
Full of atmosphere, mystery, and romance, Hourglass merges the very best of the paranormal and science-fiction genres in a seductive, remarkable young adult debut.]]> 390 Myra McEntire 1606843842 Shannon 2
Em isn't looking forward to going back to her old high school, but she has time yet. Her brother surprises her with a new consultant, someone they both hope can cure her. His name is Michael Weaver and he's a university student with a flashy car who does consultant work on the side for an organisation called the Hourglass. The connection between Em and Michael is immediate, and not just based on his sexy good looks: whenever they touch they create electricity.

Michael explains to Em that what she sees aren't ghosts, they're time ripples: she's seeing the past. With his ability to see the future, they are like two halves that complement each other, and they have the potential to time travel. He wants her help in going back six months in the past to save the Hourglass' founder, Liam Ballard, from death in a fire at his lab - a fire Michael is convinced another Hourglass member, Jonathan Landers, started to take out Liam so he could take over the Hourglass, using people's varied abilities for his own nefarious purposes.

Having lost her own parents, Em is determined to help - especially after meeting Liam's eighteen-year-old son, Kaleb, who is an empath. But going back in time is dangerous and risky, and there's only a small window in which to rescue Liam before the fire starts. With the help of some renegade people from the Hourglass who live in the house of a drop-dead gorgeous physicist called Cat who can control matter, they might have a chance. But upon the discovery that Jonathan has taken the files from Liam's safe, files containing information about numerous people like Em that he could take advantage of, time is running out to go back in time to save the one man who can help them.

Oh I wanted to like this, I really did. It began so promisingly, setting the scene in a historic old town in Tennessee, and introducing us to an opinionated heroine who more than makes up for her short stature with her mouth - and she does have some good lines, like "My ass was grass, and big brother was the lawn mower." [p.185] The atmosphere was a mix of slightly spooky, intriguing and comforting in the familiar - for all that Em has been through, her family unit is a tight-knit, caring, loving one. Sadly, all too soon it devolved into an unoriginal plot and suffered from that frustrating of all frustrations, Glaring Oversight.

Plotwise, this was just like any number of movies I've already seen, books I've already read. The ignorant but special main character (in this case, also the narrator), who is introduced to some shady secret society that's been betrayed from within, who takes it upon herself to save the day with some sacrifice along the way - but retaining a happy ending regardless. There's the double-crossing, the unnecessary love interest on the side (Kaleb), and the exceedingly, devastatingly beautiful main love interest (Michael) who I just couldn't come to like. Sure he was handsome and caring and thoughtful and considerate, but he was also an utter wet rag, a bit too perfect (any kind of perfect is too perfect), who has unexplained wealth (of course) and rarely makes much sense when he speaks - not if you're paying attention and trying to connect the dots. He came across as a lot older than he supposedly was (nineteen), and his unexplained wealth bothered and distracted me. But it was mostly the way his information and explanations jumped around that really annoyed me.

It's really hard to get into a book when the main character doesn't ask the obvious questions, and their source of information doesn't always make sense. When discovering that the world is not quite what you thought it was, and that you yourself are more than you ever imagined, you're bound to have questions. With Emerson, all too often she forewent the relevant questions in favour of some smart-arsed or bitchy or even sulky comment. I wanted to snap at her, "Focus!" Her reactions were often weird to me, freaking out about some new revelation (another way for her to simply not ask the glaringly obvious questions that really really needed to be asked in order to move the story forward) or, more frustrating still, focusing instead on some really trivial detail.

Rather than utilise the common plot device of ignorant-main-character-asking-questions-about-sudden-new-world, McEntire instead allowed Em to just know things. Reading this was a bit like whiplash, it actually hurt my head how many times I did a "Wait, what?" double-take. Because not only did conversations go strangely, all things considered, they glossed over things that the characters later talked about as if the conversation had taken place! I can't give you examples because it's a matter of reading the whole book rather, but I think I have permanent frown marks on my head now after reading this.

There were times when the dialogue just seemed so contrived, like when Michael discovers Em has tried to research the Hourglass online and found an article about the death of its founder, Liam Ballard. His reaction just didn't make sense - not to Emerson, and not to me. He became quite angry and threatening, and his explanation later was that the new founder, Jonathan Landon, was dangerous - but he never really explained anything (you connect the dots yourself but it's all out of sync with the plot and Em's own understanding), and his whole method of keeping Em in the dark as a way to protect her was laughable and insulting from the beginning. And what, all to create some mystery and a sense of danger? That would have come quite naturally had the right things been discussed at the right time, questions and answers that would have gone a long way to building this new world bit by bit, with some teasing but also by making sense. It felt like a smokescreen, because at the end of it all I reflected back on the story and its plot and it struck me how plain and ordinary it all was.

It wasn't only the dialogue that read as contrived, quite often the plot felt that way too. Little things were just unnecessarily dramatic in order to add, well, drama and mystery and also suspicion (can she trust Michael? That sort of thing). For instance, when Michael is called away by Ava and tells - no, orders - Em to stay home and wait for him to call her, which he doesn't do, why couldn't he have just said to her, "Hey Em, my best friend is on a drunken bender and I've gotta go pick him up and take him home, make sure he's okay. I'll try and call you tomorrow, otherwise I'll see you back here." It doesn't matter that Kaleb is drunk for some deep dark reason that Michael doesn't want her to know about - at least, I think that was his reason, but I don't really know - it doesn't matter because at the time it would have sounded perfectly innocent, completely reasonable, and - this is where it wouldn't have served much dramatic purpose - it would have kept Emerson home and she wouldn't have met Kaleb and so on and so on. But what was the big deal? Why not let her meet Kaleb? She met the others at the Renegade House.

What about her scholarship - her brother seems to make loads of money, so why need a scholarship? (The answer is, she didn't, it's connected to the plot, but badly.) Why does Michael sometimes talk about time travel like they do it all the time, and yet when discussing it with Cat it becomes clear that they've never done it? Why is the Renegade House described as a bungalow when, inside, it has an upstairs floor full of bedrooms and bathrooms? Little things like this just weren't explained properly and didn't, at the time, make sense. Sure later when more information is finally given, some things might make sense, but the problem is that Em doesn't seem confused, as if she already knows it all and so doesn't ask. And her reactions to learning about people's different abilities was just plain weird - what person in this day and age, someone who has their own ability, would be so completely shocked and overwhelmed to learn of others'? And how can she be so utterly incurious about it all?? I couldn't relate to her, and I couldn't follow the way her mind works - which frankly, didn't seem to work at all most of the time. I mean, incurious is fine in a person, plenty of people aren't particularly curious (though it's hard to believe when faced with this kind of scenario), but not when it's just a lazy character trait used to avoid having to make things make sense.

The plot, too, was very predictable. I wasn't even trying and I could have told you who Jack is, and what would happen. I could have told you who the spy amongst them really was - and the red herring was laughable. Oh so disappointing. I did like Lily, who sadly doesn't get much of a presence, but since she too has a gift (so not a spoiler, it's clear early on), I'm sure she'll be drawn into it in the next book or something. Chemistry-wise, sure there was some between Em and Michael, but since he acts like an overbearing, overprotective big brother - rather like her real brother, Thomas - it was actually a bit icky. He was also a bit condescending at times, which again made him sound rather old. And his refusal to start a relationship with her never made sense, not until the truth finally came out, which is fine except that, for readers, if it doesn't make sense at the time, it's frustrating to have the heroine accept it as if it does. Just one of the many things that did my head in - and it's not like some complicated time travel stories that loop around and become tricky: this doesn't have any time travel in it until the last hundred pages.

I do enjoy a good time travel story, and I LOVE stories about people with special abilities (big Obernewtyn and X-Men fan, me), but sadly this one just didn't have any chops. While not original, it still had good bones and could have been really exciting, just like a good cheesy movie can be, but McEntire wasn't able to build a mystery, gathering the threads together, leaving the right kind of clues behind, building on your knowledge and finally spinning you for a loop. It would need a great deal of re-writing for that. Still, I know from a quick glance at 카지노싸이트 that plenty of people loved this and didn't have my critique, so it clearly didn't bother everyone. Overall though, the mess of the structure, contrived plot-building and rather bizarre dialogue really spoiled this one for me.]]> 3.70 2011 Hourglass (Hourglass, #1)
author: Myra McEntire
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.70
book published: 2011
rating: 2
read at: 2013/02/15
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: 2013, time-travel, ya, paranormal, sci-fi, removed
review:
Seventeen-year-old Emerson Cole has spent the last four years believing herself crazy. She sees ghosts from the past, lifelike images that pop and disappear as soon as she touches them. After the death of her parents, her spiralling depression and increased craziness get her committed to a mental health institute for treatment, drugs and supervision. After that, she went to a girls' boarding school and, now that her scholarship has run out, she's returned to Ivy Springs to live with her much-older brother, Thomas, and his wife Dru, an architect-interior designer team that's giving the old town a complete makeover.

Em isn't looking forward to going back to her old high school, but she has time yet. Her brother surprises her with a new consultant, someone they both hope can cure her. His name is Michael Weaver and he's a university student with a flashy car who does consultant work on the side for an organisation called the Hourglass. The connection between Em and Michael is immediate, and not just based on his sexy good looks: whenever they touch they create electricity.

Michael explains to Em that what she sees aren't ghosts, they're time ripples: she's seeing the past. With his ability to see the future, they are like two halves that complement each other, and they have the potential to time travel. He wants her help in going back six months in the past to save the Hourglass' founder, Liam Ballard, from death in a fire at his lab - a fire Michael is convinced another Hourglass member, Jonathan Landers, started to take out Liam so he could take over the Hourglass, using people's varied abilities for his own nefarious purposes.

Having lost her own parents, Em is determined to help - especially after meeting Liam's eighteen-year-old son, Kaleb, who is an empath. But going back in time is dangerous and risky, and there's only a small window in which to rescue Liam before the fire starts. With the help of some renegade people from the Hourglass who live in the house of a drop-dead gorgeous physicist called Cat who can control matter, they might have a chance. But upon the discovery that Jonathan has taken the files from Liam's safe, files containing information about numerous people like Em that he could take advantage of, time is running out to go back in time to save the one man who can help them.

Oh I wanted to like this, I really did. It began so promisingly, setting the scene in a historic old town in Tennessee, and introducing us to an opinionated heroine who more than makes up for her short stature with her mouth - and she does have some good lines, like "My ass was grass, and big brother was the lawn mower." [p.185] The atmosphere was a mix of slightly spooky, intriguing and comforting in the familiar - for all that Em has been through, her family unit is a tight-knit, caring, loving one. Sadly, all too soon it devolved into an unoriginal plot and suffered from that frustrating of all frustrations, Glaring Oversight.

Plotwise, this was just like any number of movies I've already seen, books I've already read. The ignorant but special main character (in this case, also the narrator), who is introduced to some shady secret society that's been betrayed from within, who takes it upon herself to save the day with some sacrifice along the way - but retaining a happy ending regardless. There's the double-crossing, the unnecessary love interest on the side (Kaleb), and the exceedingly, devastatingly beautiful main love interest (Michael) who I just couldn't come to like. Sure he was handsome and caring and thoughtful and considerate, but he was also an utter wet rag, a bit too perfect (any kind of perfect is too perfect), who has unexplained wealth (of course) and rarely makes much sense when he speaks - not if you're paying attention and trying to connect the dots. He came across as a lot older than he supposedly was (nineteen), and his unexplained wealth bothered and distracted me. But it was mostly the way his information and explanations jumped around that really annoyed me.

It's really hard to get into a book when the main character doesn't ask the obvious questions, and their source of information doesn't always make sense. When discovering that the world is not quite what you thought it was, and that you yourself are more than you ever imagined, you're bound to have questions. With Emerson, all too often she forewent the relevant questions in favour of some smart-arsed or bitchy or even sulky comment. I wanted to snap at her, "Focus!" Her reactions were often weird to me, freaking out about some new revelation (another way for her to simply not ask the glaringly obvious questions that really really needed to be asked in order to move the story forward) or, more frustrating still, focusing instead on some really trivial detail.

Rather than utilise the common plot device of ignorant-main-character-asking-questions-about-sudden-new-world, McEntire instead allowed Em to just know things. Reading this was a bit like whiplash, it actually hurt my head how many times I did a "Wait, what?" double-take. Because not only did conversations go strangely, all things considered, they glossed over things that the characters later talked about as if the conversation had taken place! I can't give you examples because it's a matter of reading the whole book rather, but I think I have permanent frown marks on my head now after reading this.

There were times when the dialogue just seemed so contrived, like when Michael discovers Em has tried to research the Hourglass online and found an article about the death of its founder, Liam Ballard. His reaction just didn't make sense - not to Emerson, and not to me. He became quite angry and threatening, and his explanation later was that the new founder, Jonathan Landon, was dangerous - but he never really explained anything (you connect the dots yourself but it's all out of sync with the plot and Em's own understanding), and his whole method of keeping Em in the dark as a way to protect her was laughable and insulting from the beginning. And what, all to create some mystery and a sense of danger? That would have come quite naturally had the right things been discussed at the right time, questions and answers that would have gone a long way to building this new world bit by bit, with some teasing but also by making sense. It felt like a smokescreen, because at the end of it all I reflected back on the story and its plot and it struck me how plain and ordinary it all was.

It wasn't only the dialogue that read as contrived, quite often the plot felt that way too. Little things were just unnecessarily dramatic in order to add, well, drama and mystery and also suspicion (can she trust Michael? That sort of thing). For instance, when Michael is called away by Ava and tells - no, orders - Em to stay home and wait for him to call her, which he doesn't do, why couldn't he have just said to her, "Hey Em, my best friend is on a drunken bender and I've gotta go pick him up and take him home, make sure he's okay. I'll try and call you tomorrow, otherwise I'll see you back here." It doesn't matter that Kaleb is drunk for some deep dark reason that Michael doesn't want her to know about - at least, I think that was his reason, but I don't really know - it doesn't matter because at the time it would have sounded perfectly innocent, completely reasonable, and - this is where it wouldn't have served much dramatic purpose - it would have kept Emerson home and she wouldn't have met Kaleb and so on and so on. But what was the big deal? Why not let her meet Kaleb? She met the others at the Renegade House.

What about her scholarship - her brother seems to make loads of money, so why need a scholarship? (The answer is, she didn't, it's connected to the plot, but badly.) Why does Michael sometimes talk about time travel like they do it all the time, and yet when discussing it with Cat it becomes clear that they've never done it? Why is the Renegade House described as a bungalow when, inside, it has an upstairs floor full of bedrooms and bathrooms? Little things like this just weren't explained properly and didn't, at the time, make sense. Sure later when more information is finally given, some things might make sense, but the problem is that Em doesn't seem confused, as if she already knows it all and so doesn't ask. And her reactions to learning about people's different abilities was just plain weird - what person in this day and age, someone who has their own ability, would be so completely shocked and overwhelmed to learn of others'? And how can she be so utterly incurious about it all?? I couldn't relate to her, and I couldn't follow the way her mind works - which frankly, didn't seem to work at all most of the time. I mean, incurious is fine in a person, plenty of people aren't particularly curious (though it's hard to believe when faced with this kind of scenario), but not when it's just a lazy character trait used to avoid having to make things make sense.

The plot, too, was very predictable. I wasn't even trying and I could have told you who Jack is, and what would happen. I could have told you who the spy amongst them really was - and the red herring was laughable. Oh so disappointing. I did like Lily, who sadly doesn't get much of a presence, but since she too has a gift (so not a spoiler, it's clear early on), I'm sure she'll be drawn into it in the next book or something. Chemistry-wise, sure there was some between Em and Michael, but since he acts like an overbearing, overprotective big brother - rather like her real brother, Thomas - it was actually a bit icky. He was also a bit condescending at times, which again made him sound rather old. And his refusal to start a relationship with her never made sense, not until the truth finally came out, which is fine except that, for readers, if it doesn't make sense at the time, it's frustrating to have the heroine accept it as if it does. Just one of the many things that did my head in - and it's not like some complicated time travel stories that loop around and become tricky: this doesn't have any time travel in it until the last hundred pages.

I do enjoy a good time travel story, and I LOVE stories about people with special abilities (big Obernewtyn and X-Men fan, me), but sadly this one just didn't have any chops. While not original, it still had good bones and could have been really exciting, just like a good cheesy movie can be, but McEntire wasn't able to build a mystery, gathering the threads together, leaving the right kind of clues behind, building on your knowledge and finally spinning you for a loop. It would need a great deal of re-writing for that. Still, I know from a quick glance at 카지노싸이트 that plenty of people loved this and didn't have my critique, so it clearly didn't bother everyone. Overall though, the mess of the structure, contrived plot-building and rather bizarre dialogue really spoiled this one for me.
]]> Captivate (Submerged Sun, #1) 18683518
For the past twelve months since her parents’ death, seventeen-year-old Miranda Sun has harboured a dark secret — a secret that has strained the close relationship she once shared with her older sister, Lauren. In an effort to repair this broken bond, Miranda’s grandparents whisk the siblings away on a secluded beach holiday. Except before Miranda gets a chance to confess her life-changing secret, she’s dragged underwater by a mysterious stranger while taking a midnight swim.

Awakening days later, Miranda discovers that she’s being held captive in a glittering underwater city by an arrogant young man named Marko...the King of this underwater civilisation.

Nineteen-year-old Marko intends to marry Miranda in order to keep his crown from falling into the sinister clutches of his half-brother, Damir. There’s only one problem. Miranda is desperate to return home to right things with her sister and she wants nothing to do with Marko. Trying to secure her freedom, Miranda quickly forms an alliance with Robbie — Marko’s personal guard. However, she soon discovers that even underwater, people are hiding dangerous secrets...]]> 294 Vanessa Garden 1743566115 Shannon 3
Miranda is caught by a stranger, dragged underwater and kidnapped. She wakes, days later and still groggy from the drugs that helped transport her, in a very strange place. Completely alone and scared, Miranda is slowly introduced to the mysterious underwater city of Marin, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Lit by glowing crystals, oxygenated by hidden air shafts, Marin's origins are unknown but the founder of the current civilisation, Frano Tollin, a pharmaceutical entrepreneur and explorer, speculated about an ancient civilisation that built it but died out. Now Tollin's descendents rule in his place: Marko, a young and temperamental nineteen-year-old king, and his older sister, Sylvia. But things aren't as glowing and utopian in Marin as they might seem.

Marko's older brother and Sylvia's twin, Damir, is in hiding somewhere in the city. A dark and twisted mind, Damir wants to follow in Frano Tollin's footsteps and experiment on young women in the insane attempt to create a real mermaid. Tollin's nightmarish experiments focussed on cutting women's legs open and sewing them together to form a tail, among other things, and if Damir ruled Marin the nightmares would continue. Marko has been made king in his place, but his rule is tenuous if he cannot secure an heir.

This is Marin's other problem: there are no children. No babies are born. The women who live here are infertile. Barren. And thus Sylvia's selfish plan: to capture a girl from the surface and bring her to the city to marry Marko and have his children. She sends Marko's personal guard, Robbie, to find a girl, and its Miranda who is caught - not Lauren, her beautiful, popular older sister. When Marko learns that Miranda is not even of legal age yet, he's furious, but with the threat of being fed to the sharks, the wedding is still going ahead.

Miranda's fear turns to curiosity, but she never stops planning to escape. When she learns that the one way to the surface is accessed via Marko's suite, she decides that convincing Robbie to let her go is the only means available. But even as she befriends the young guardsman, she begins to get to know Marko and the city of Marin, and fall under its spell.

Captivate combines the old and the new in creating a romantic fantasy story that touches on gothic horror. The premise is interesting, and even though it employs many tropes that aren't original, the character of Miranda and the Garden's writing made it feel fresh. And while it looked like it was going to have a romantic triangle like so many other YA stories ("yawn"), it actually doesn't, which was very pleasing. In fact, the way the characters evolve and grow was one of the things I liked best about Captivate - especially Marko. He's a complex, interesting character who seems at first too obvious and one-dimensional, but who gradually becomes much more interesting and charismatic as the story progresses.

But I should talk about the book's weak points, because it is a bit of a biggie. Stories like this one hinge on the world-building, and if the world-building is shaky then everything that follows feels a bit flimsy. The problem with Captivate is the premise, the point of abducting Miranda in the first place and bringing her to Marin - though Marin itself was a little under-developed for me, especially in regards to how they get air, food and water, not to mention building materials, clothing etc.

The glitch is the infertility premise. A fairly common trope in speculative fiction, it can be a great motivator for action. Unfortunately, it didn't really make sense here. The entire population of Marin consists of two kinds of people: those that were born there (though no one has been born there in eighteen years), and those who are brought there. The cause of the infertility problem, they speculate, is related to being removed from the sun and moon and life cycles in general, though they don't know for sure. Only, if people are continuously - not often, but continuously over time - brought to Marin (rescued from near-drownings, or suicide attempts, mostly), then does it not follow that their population will be refreshed with fertile women? Like Miranda? Miranda was captured and brought against her will, but why not simply invite or rescue a woman instead? They'd done it before. If Miranda was brought to Marin to have babies, then infertility does not happen straight away; therefore plenty of other women in Marin should also be able to have children. It didn't make sense, and so the whole plot was shaky because of it. If it had made more sense, with no holes in it, then it would have been quite powerful because the notion of dying civilisations and places bereft of children will always resonate with us.

The story was strongest in the development of the characters, and the novel's sense of atmosphere. There was a tantalising, uncomfortable tinge of fear to the whole story and setting that I particularly enjoyed; I wouldn't have minded a bit more of it though that might have been too much. It's that shade of menace and dark forbidden things to what is otherwise something of a utopia that really makes the concept work, and adds tension to the plot. You don't know who to trust, or what's really going, and the taint of Frano Tollin's plans and experiments linger. It nicely balances the fantasy and romance elements of the story, giving it maturity and extra layers.

Another strength was Miranda herself. She narrates (and not, thankfully, in present tense, might I add!) and her voice is solid. She's convincing and undergoes a gradual change influenced by her new surroundings and situation. There was chemistry between her and Marko, though it was shadowed by that sense of suspicion, distrust and uncertainty that pervades the story in general, making their relationship that bit more interesting than it might otherwise have been. She has tenacity, and balances adolescent insecurities and selfishness with a growing sense of compassion, empathy and understanding. By the end, I had grown very fond and proud of her and wanted very much to find out what happened next.

Speaking of, the ending was spot-on. In terms of: no cliffhanger, not forgetting the overall abduction plot or the people she'd left behind, and in setting the stage for a real, legitimate relationship with an abductor. In that sense, it was very satisfying, as was seeing just how much Miranda had matured by the end. I wish the world of this underwater city had been more tightly formed and explained, because if the nuts-and-bolts of the story were stronger this would have been excellent all round. As it is, I'm caught up enough in Miranda's story, and curious about what's going on in Marin, to want to read more of this new series.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.89 2014 Captivate (Submerged Sun, #1)
author: Vanessa Garden
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.89
book published: 2014
rating: 3
read at: 2013/12/03
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, paranormal, romance, australian-women-writers, 2013, aww2013, removed
review:
It's been a year since seventeen-year-old Miranda Sun's parents were killed in a terrible car accident, but she's still harbouring a secret guilt that has damaged her relationship with her older, beautiful sister Lauren. That January, when their grandparents take them to the family shack by the beach at Bob's Bay for two weeks of summer holiday, Miranda is finally preparing herself to open up to Lauren when her situation drastically changes, and she disappears while taking a midnight swim.

Miranda is caught by a stranger, dragged underwater and kidnapped. She wakes, days later and still groggy from the drugs that helped transport her, in a very strange place. Completely alone and scared, Miranda is slowly introduced to the mysterious underwater city of Marin, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Lit by glowing crystals, oxygenated by hidden air shafts, Marin's origins are unknown but the founder of the current civilisation, Frano Tollin, a pharmaceutical entrepreneur and explorer, speculated about an ancient civilisation that built it but died out. Now Tollin's descendents rule in his place: Marko, a young and temperamental nineteen-year-old king, and his older sister, Sylvia. But things aren't as glowing and utopian in Marin as they might seem.

Marko's older brother and Sylvia's twin, Damir, is in hiding somewhere in the city. A dark and twisted mind, Damir wants to follow in Frano Tollin's footsteps and experiment on young women in the insane attempt to create a real mermaid. Tollin's nightmarish experiments focussed on cutting women's legs open and sewing them together to form a tail, among other things, and if Damir ruled Marin the nightmares would continue. Marko has been made king in his place, but his rule is tenuous if he cannot secure an heir.

This is Marin's other problem: there are no children. No babies are born. The women who live here are infertile. Barren. And thus Sylvia's selfish plan: to capture a girl from the surface and bring her to the city to marry Marko and have his children. She sends Marko's personal guard, Robbie, to find a girl, and its Miranda who is caught - not Lauren, her beautiful, popular older sister. When Marko learns that Miranda is not even of legal age yet, he's furious, but with the threat of being fed to the sharks, the wedding is still going ahead.

Miranda's fear turns to curiosity, but she never stops planning to escape. When she learns that the one way to the surface is accessed via Marko's suite, she decides that convincing Robbie to let her go is the only means available. But even as she befriends the young guardsman, she begins to get to know Marko and the city of Marin, and fall under its spell.

Captivate combines the old and the new in creating a romantic fantasy story that touches on gothic horror. The premise is interesting, and even though it employs many tropes that aren't original, the character of Miranda and the Garden's writing made it feel fresh. And while it looked like it was going to have a romantic triangle like so many other YA stories ("yawn"), it actually doesn't, which was very pleasing. In fact, the way the characters evolve and grow was one of the things I liked best about Captivate - especially Marko. He's a complex, interesting character who seems at first too obvious and one-dimensional, but who gradually becomes much more interesting and charismatic as the story progresses.

But I should talk about the book's weak points, because it is a bit of a biggie. Stories like this one hinge on the world-building, and if the world-building is shaky then everything that follows feels a bit flimsy. The problem with Captivate is the premise, the point of abducting Miranda in the first place and bringing her to Marin - though Marin itself was a little under-developed for me, especially in regards to how they get air, food and water, not to mention building materials, clothing etc.

The glitch is the infertility premise. A fairly common trope in speculative fiction, it can be a great motivator for action. Unfortunately, it didn't really make sense here. The entire population of Marin consists of two kinds of people: those that were born there (though no one has been born there in eighteen years), and those who are brought there. The cause of the infertility problem, they speculate, is related to being removed from the sun and moon and life cycles in general, though they don't know for sure. Only, if people are continuously - not often, but continuously over time - brought to Marin (rescued from near-drownings, or suicide attempts, mostly), then does it not follow that their population will be refreshed with fertile women? Like Miranda? Miranda was captured and brought against her will, but why not simply invite or rescue a woman instead? They'd done it before. If Miranda was brought to Marin to have babies, then infertility does not happen straight away; therefore plenty of other women in Marin should also be able to have children. It didn't make sense, and so the whole plot was shaky because of it. If it had made more sense, with no holes in it, then it would have been quite powerful because the notion of dying civilisations and places bereft of children will always resonate with us.

The story was strongest in the development of the characters, and the novel's sense of atmosphere. There was a tantalising, uncomfortable tinge of fear to the whole story and setting that I particularly enjoyed; I wouldn't have minded a bit more of it though that might have been too much. It's that shade of menace and dark forbidden things to what is otherwise something of a utopia that really makes the concept work, and adds tension to the plot. You don't know who to trust, or what's really going, and the taint of Frano Tollin's plans and experiments linger. It nicely balances the fantasy and romance elements of the story, giving it maturity and extra layers.

Another strength was Miranda herself. She narrates (and not, thankfully, in present tense, might I add!) and her voice is solid. She's convincing and undergoes a gradual change influenced by her new surroundings and situation. There was chemistry between her and Marko, though it was shadowed by that sense of suspicion, distrust and uncertainty that pervades the story in general, making their relationship that bit more interesting than it might otherwise have been. She has tenacity, and balances adolescent insecurities and selfishness with a growing sense of compassion, empathy and understanding. By the end, I had grown very fond and proud of her and wanted very much to find out what happened next.

Speaking of, the ending was spot-on. In terms of: no cliffhanger, not forgetting the overall abduction plot or the people she'd left behind, and in setting the stage for a real, legitimate relationship with an abductor. In that sense, it was very satisfying, as was seeing just how much Miranda had matured by the end. I wish the world of this underwater city had been more tightly formed and explained, because if the nuts-and-bolts of the story were stronger this would have been excellent all round. As it is, I'm caught up enough in Miranda's story, and curious about what's going on in Marin, to want to read more of this new series.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> <![CDATA[Henry and the Incredibly Incorrigible, Inconveniently Intelligent Smart Human]]> 16492780
Then his dad’s boss gives them a HueManTech ETC-420- GX-2 and Henry’s life is turned upside down. This human unit is like no other. It can read, play video games and, it seems to Henry, think for itself. In fact, the more time Henry spends with the ETC, the more the gadget seems less like a human unit and more like a full-fledged robot with thoughts and feelings.

But that’s not possible. Is it? And if the ETC really is as smart as it seems, Henry can’t help but wonder: Is the human just the next-generation technology or a secret government weapon that will ultimately destroy them all?]]> 176 Lynn Messina 0984901841 Shannon 4
Henry's mother takes care of the rampaging appliance with all the self-assurance of her top-of-the-line managerial model (the Zolot 5.0). When they get home, Henry's eager to share the story with his father, only to find that Jacob has company: his boss, Marcus Erickson, who asks the family to test-drive a new model human unit, the ETC-420-GX-2, which comes with several outfits, fuel and an instruction manual. It will sleep in the box it comes in. Henry is excited; they've never had a human in their house before, and he's looking forward to having help with his chores. But his first meeting with the ETC-420-GX-2 model leaves him worried and certain that they're in danger of it going Berserko. It doesn't speak like a normal human appliance - it keeps saying "hay" for starters, and it somehow has the ability to make up words. It doesn't want to sleep in its box, but flattened it and created a pillow for its head. Something's definitely not right with it, but Henry's parents find its usefulness and ability to understand instructions highly convenient.

When Jane takes the human unit to the Shine Bar to attract her customers back after they were scared off by the berserko human, it proves to draw a huge crowd, as well as a journalist. Henry's jealous that it gets to do things at the salon that Jane's never allowed him to do, but the robot and the human later bond over comic books. Soon they're best friends, and Henry comes to accept that not only is "E", as he calls him, a super-advanced human, but he also comes to see him as a living creature rather than an appliance. Now his parents are concerned that Henry thinks of the human as a "he" instead of an "it", and his mother especially starts paying attention to the fear-mongering from the media about the new-and-improved ETC model being a secret weapon of destruction, a military project. The human can withstand water, and seems capable of so much more than any other human appliance.

With the threat of compaction hanging over E's head, Henry escapes with him and goes with E to the capital, where E plans to break into the Mainframe and discover once and for all why he was created. What they learn though is something even more shocking than they could have imagined, and will change the way Henry sees his world forever.

The concept of turning the human-robot dichotomy on its head was an engaging one and drew me to this book. We have a real fascination with the idea of creating robots and androids, and of them having a mind of their own, feelings and a soul. Part of me has often wondered whether this is a primarily masculine preoccupation - in the beginning at least - engendered by men's inability to physically create life in the same way women can, and a possible deep-seated, subconscious envy over that fact. That if they can create a robot that has life and a soul, they will have achieved everything, conquered all and be like women who, if you look at it stripped of all other mythology but the essential, are godlike in this ability, regardless of the role men play.

Interestingly though, the Japanese - who will probably be the first to create a real, useful, everyday robot - have no such concept. They see the robot as entirely manmade, without feelings and a soul, and can't comprehend the idea that a robot could attain one in any way. So it's definitely a cultural thing as well. Either way, it's a fascinating thing to me, and the moral and ethical as well as cultural and ideological questions raised by the concept of robots and androids, make robot stories very interesting to me. This one was no exception.

While it did take me a while to get into it because of the made-up technical language and the world-building, it was a highly readable story on many levels. You can read this novel as an action-adventure story, the classic kind involving children and corrupt adults and a tearing-away of innocence. You can read it as a literal allegory, a work of irony as everything is turned upside-down: here humans are drudges, morons barely capable of opening a door without help or precise instructions. Made rather than born, they're designed for a purpose and the idea of them being in possession of feeling or an advanced thought-process is alien to all robot-kind. By spinning the robot-human relationship around so that robots are on top - on their own world, with their own history and evolution science - the novel shines a light ever more astutely on how humans in our world treat "lesser" beings, and how we perceive robots. It's both entertaining and thought-provoking, the best kind of book.

In fact, humour and a more serious meaning go hand-in-hand throughout, like when Henry's reading the ETC's manual and it goes through all the ways in which the unit can malfunction or be damaged, and what to do - namely, call your service provider.

In addition to sleep, your ETC-420-GX-2 requires eight to twelve MARFEL meal-pellet meals a day to maintain its energy supply. You will know when your ETC-420-GX-2's energy is low when it responds slowly to commands and makes frequent errors. In extreme cases, your ETC-420-GX-2 might cease to work entirely and will simply lay its head down on a table. To restore normal function, apply two MARFEL meal pellets immediately and count to twenty. [p.30]


Sounds like a typical teenager doesn't it? ;) But after reading all the care instructions and all the maintenance problems that come with a human unit, Henry starts to wonder, What's the point? He even starts to think along the lines of marketing gimmicks, that "the human was just a way for HueManTech to sell junk to gullible customers."

The robots on the planet of Ferrous might see humans as just an appliance, but they have a complex and comprehensive understanding of evolution, hierarchy and the ethics attached.

The Use Chain described the machine hierarchy on Ferrous. Machines at the top of the evolutionary ladder, such as robots, were free to use the machines below them on the ladder in any manner they saw fit. Consolis, for example, a dependent mineralizer that grew in open fields, was harvested, treated and loaded with software to be used as video game consoles. Sedanmobiles, which roamed the Vast Open Space of the Very Far West, were caught and domesticated to be use as cars like his dad's Esperzo or his mom's Ergmenty.

Some robots argued that it was wrong for any machine, including robots, to use another machine. They believed all sedanmobiles should be set free and all consolis left alone to grow wild. They were even against the domestication of small machines as household pets, even though those machines were protected and treated kindly.

Anti-Use-Chainers argued that the invention of human technology made the need for machine exploitation unnecessary, since humans were created specifically to do the jobs robots didn't want to do. If humans could fulfill a function, then there was no reason for robots to exploit their fellow machines on Ferrous. [p.37]


But as Henry knows, humans aren't good for very much. They mind coal, the energy source for robots, or operate elevators. "But they'd never be as efficient as a calculator."

E is different. E can think for himself. He can invent words, something robots are incapable of doing - though he teaches, or encourages, Henry to learn how. It takes Henry time to overcome his suspicion that E is dangerous, but after that they become best friends. And finally, Henry understands the difference, what makes E both unique and dangerous: his imagination.

That was it, Henry realized: E had an imagination. By picturing data that didn't exist, he could produce solutions that weren't based on fact. Henry could not. His algorithms followed logic protocols, so the only solutions he could produce were logical ones. But with the ability to go beyond the limits of logic, E could take processing to new heights.

And just then, Henry got it. Finally, he got why his mother and the newsbot and all of Sodium Falls were so worried. Yes, E was different from other human units. Yes, he could process complex commands or reasonate complicated problems or even store huge amounts of data on his cortextinator. But that wasn't what had their worry meters set to MASSIVELY WORRIED. No, it was the fact that Henry [sic] could do anything in the world. He had no limitations. No boundaries. No restrictions. No restraints. No protocols. He could do whatever he wanted. Nothing was off-limits. Nothing was forbidden. His potential was endless. Given the right circumstances, E could do things Henry couldn't even begin to process. Things nobot could.

And that was terrifying. [p.118]


Little typo on the name aside, this is a very astute passage. And turning it back around again, this is why we humans agonise and worry over the possibility of robots having souls: because we can imagine it. The dark side of being a human is our endless imaginations, it's both a positive and a negative. Hence the expression "ignorance is bliss", which doesn't relate just to knowledge or experience, but to imagination as well. Fear, anxiety etc., all originates with imagination. If you can't imagine being abducted or raped or shot or losing your child etc., you'd have nothing to fear. But I don't want to get sidetracked onto the topic of fear and the human psyche, which is just as complex. Basically what Henry is getting at is that E could be a military weapon, a threat to robots, simply by existing.

And that's where the action-adventure plot comes in, which I won't tell you about because it gets pretty interesting, though not entirely unpredictable. I did feel that the memo that comes before the last chapter should have gone at the very end, for maximum impact and suspense/tension, even if it is a bit of cliched device, like that ominous last scene in a movie that shows that everything's not alright, even though the main characters think it is and have finally relaxed. Like the last shot in Jurassic Park, or countless horror films. Either way, it does imply that there could be a sequel coming, which I'd love to read.

Messina does some impressive and detailed world-building here, and created a believable robot society and a robot hero who manages to be relatable and familiar as a thirteen-year-old human boy, while still retaining all his robot characteristics, making for a main character who is both unique and familiar. It's a very nicely constructed balance, especially as robot society looks a lot like ours. Interestingly, it was the idea of wild automobiles roaming free until they're caught and tamed for domestic use, for example, that had my imagination spinning rather frantically. In fact, the whole concept of machines evolving and all was tricky to get my head around, purely because I like all humans have been conditioned to view toasters, for example, as inanimate objects with a specific function and a limited lifespan, not as a pet.

I could clearly see this as a movie, while I was reading it - especially one of those Pixar or Dreamworks computer-animated films that are so wonderful, often thought-provoking and entertaining at the same time. This novel would be ideal for adaptation.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

Check out the fun , if you have a moment.]]> 4.00 2012 Henry and the Incredibly Incorrigible, Inconveniently Intelligent Smart Human
author: Lynn Messina
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.00
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/01/07
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: 2013, ya, sci-fi, speculative-fiction, childrens, removed
review:
Henry Jacobson lives in Sodium Falls with his mother, Jane - manager of the Shine Bar - and father, Jacob Jacobson, head of the Upgrade Processing Department. He's recently had his thirteenth upgrade, know to be the most difficult, and a virus that wasn't fully eradicated has given him a debilitating tick that forces him to shut down all his apps and programs, resulting in failed exams and humiliation for Henry. He works part-time at his mother's salon, giving precise instructions to the human unit and doing the finer tasks it can't handle (which is most of them). His mother's CRZ78BX-22 Drudgery unit is a particularly inconvenient model from HueMaTech, for an appliance, and on this day it goes Berserko and smashes mirrors with a broom while garbling its last instructions.

Henry's mother takes care of the rampaging appliance with all the self-assurance of her top-of-the-line managerial model (the Zolot 5.0). When they get home, Henry's eager to share the story with his father, only to find that Jacob has company: his boss, Marcus Erickson, who asks the family to test-drive a new model human unit, the ETC-420-GX-2, which comes with several outfits, fuel and an instruction manual. It will sleep in the box it comes in. Henry is excited; they've never had a human in their house before, and he's looking forward to having help with his chores. But his first meeting with the ETC-420-GX-2 model leaves him worried and certain that they're in danger of it going Berserko. It doesn't speak like a normal human appliance - it keeps saying "hay" for starters, and it somehow has the ability to make up words. It doesn't want to sleep in its box, but flattened it and created a pillow for its head. Something's definitely not right with it, but Henry's parents find its usefulness and ability to understand instructions highly convenient.

When Jane takes the human unit to the Shine Bar to attract her customers back after they were scared off by the berserko human, it proves to draw a huge crowd, as well as a journalist. Henry's jealous that it gets to do things at the salon that Jane's never allowed him to do, but the robot and the human later bond over comic books. Soon they're best friends, and Henry comes to accept that not only is "E", as he calls him, a super-advanced human, but he also comes to see him as a living creature rather than an appliance. Now his parents are concerned that Henry thinks of the human as a "he" instead of an "it", and his mother especially starts paying attention to the fear-mongering from the media about the new-and-improved ETC model being a secret weapon of destruction, a military project. The human can withstand water, and seems capable of so much more than any other human appliance.

With the threat of compaction hanging over E's head, Henry escapes with him and goes with E to the capital, where E plans to break into the Mainframe and discover once and for all why he was created. What they learn though is something even more shocking than they could have imagined, and will change the way Henry sees his world forever.

The concept of turning the human-robot dichotomy on its head was an engaging one and drew me to this book. We have a real fascination with the idea of creating robots and androids, and of them having a mind of their own, feelings and a soul. Part of me has often wondered whether this is a primarily masculine preoccupation - in the beginning at least - engendered by men's inability to physically create life in the same way women can, and a possible deep-seated, subconscious envy over that fact. That if they can create a robot that has life and a soul, they will have achieved everything, conquered all and be like women who, if you look at it stripped of all other mythology but the essential, are godlike in this ability, regardless of the role men play.

Interestingly though, the Japanese - who will probably be the first to create a real, useful, everyday robot - have no such concept. They see the robot as entirely manmade, without feelings and a soul, and can't comprehend the idea that a robot could attain one in any way. So it's definitely a cultural thing as well. Either way, it's a fascinating thing to me, and the moral and ethical as well as cultural and ideological questions raised by the concept of robots and androids, make robot stories very interesting to me. This one was no exception.

While it did take me a while to get into it because of the made-up technical language and the world-building, it was a highly readable story on many levels. You can read this novel as an action-adventure story, the classic kind involving children and corrupt adults and a tearing-away of innocence. You can read it as a literal allegory, a work of irony as everything is turned upside-down: here humans are drudges, morons barely capable of opening a door without help or precise instructions. Made rather than born, they're designed for a purpose and the idea of them being in possession of feeling or an advanced thought-process is alien to all robot-kind. By spinning the robot-human relationship around so that robots are on top - on their own world, with their own history and evolution science - the novel shines a light ever more astutely on how humans in our world treat "lesser" beings, and how we perceive robots. It's both entertaining and thought-provoking, the best kind of book.

In fact, humour and a more serious meaning go hand-in-hand throughout, like when Henry's reading the ETC's manual and it goes through all the ways in which the unit can malfunction or be damaged, and what to do - namely, call your service provider.

In addition to sleep, your ETC-420-GX-2 requires eight to twelve MARFEL meal-pellet meals a day to maintain its energy supply. You will know when your ETC-420-GX-2's energy is low when it responds slowly to commands and makes frequent errors. In extreme cases, your ETC-420-GX-2 might cease to work entirely and will simply lay its head down on a table. To restore normal function, apply two MARFEL meal pellets immediately and count to twenty. [p.30]


Sounds like a typical teenager doesn't it? ;) But after reading all the care instructions and all the maintenance problems that come with a human unit, Henry starts to wonder, What's the point? He even starts to think along the lines of marketing gimmicks, that "the human was just a way for HueManTech to sell junk to gullible customers."

The robots on the planet of Ferrous might see humans as just an appliance, but they have a complex and comprehensive understanding of evolution, hierarchy and the ethics attached.

The Use Chain described the machine hierarchy on Ferrous. Machines at the top of the evolutionary ladder, such as robots, were free to use the machines below them on the ladder in any manner they saw fit. Consolis, for example, a dependent mineralizer that grew in open fields, was harvested, treated and loaded with software to be used as video game consoles. Sedanmobiles, which roamed the Vast Open Space of the Very Far West, were caught and domesticated to be use as cars like his dad's Esperzo or his mom's Ergmenty.

Some robots argued that it was wrong for any machine, including robots, to use another machine. They believed all sedanmobiles should be set free and all consolis left alone to grow wild. They were even against the domestication of small machines as household pets, even though those machines were protected and treated kindly.

Anti-Use-Chainers argued that the invention of human technology made the need for machine exploitation unnecessary, since humans were created specifically to do the jobs robots didn't want to do. If humans could fulfill a function, then there was no reason for robots to exploit their fellow machines on Ferrous. [p.37]


But as Henry knows, humans aren't good for very much. They mind coal, the energy source for robots, or operate elevators. "But they'd never be as efficient as a calculator."

E is different. E can think for himself. He can invent words, something robots are incapable of doing - though he teaches, or encourages, Henry to learn how. It takes Henry time to overcome his suspicion that E is dangerous, but after that they become best friends. And finally, Henry understands the difference, what makes E both unique and dangerous: his imagination.

That was it, Henry realized: E had an imagination. By picturing data that didn't exist, he could produce solutions that weren't based on fact. Henry could not. His algorithms followed logic protocols, so the only solutions he could produce were logical ones. But with the ability to go beyond the limits of logic, E could take processing to new heights.

And just then, Henry got it. Finally, he got why his mother and the newsbot and all of Sodium Falls were so worried. Yes, E was different from other human units. Yes, he could process complex commands or reasonate complicated problems or even store huge amounts of data on his cortextinator. But that wasn't what had their worry meters set to MASSIVELY WORRIED. No, it was the fact that Henry [sic] could do anything in the world. He had no limitations. No boundaries. No restrictions. No restraints. No protocols. He could do whatever he wanted. Nothing was off-limits. Nothing was forbidden. His potential was endless. Given the right circumstances, E could do things Henry couldn't even begin to process. Things nobot could.

And that was terrifying. [p.118]


Little typo on the name aside, this is a very astute passage. And turning it back around again, this is why we humans agonise and worry over the possibility of robots having souls: because we can imagine it. The dark side of being a human is our endless imaginations, it's both a positive and a negative. Hence the expression "ignorance is bliss", which doesn't relate just to knowledge or experience, but to imagination as well. Fear, anxiety etc., all originates with imagination. If you can't imagine being abducted or raped or shot or losing your child etc., you'd have nothing to fear. But I don't want to get sidetracked onto the topic of fear and the human psyche, which is just as complex. Basically what Henry is getting at is that E could be a military weapon, a threat to robots, simply by existing.

And that's where the action-adventure plot comes in, which I won't tell you about because it gets pretty interesting, though not entirely unpredictable. I did feel that the memo that comes before the last chapter should have gone at the very end, for maximum impact and suspense/tension, even if it is a bit of cliched device, like that ominous last scene in a movie that shows that everything's not alright, even though the main characters think it is and have finally relaxed. Like the last shot in Jurassic Park, or countless horror films. Either way, it does imply that there could be a sequel coming, which I'd love to read.

Messina does some impressive and detailed world-building here, and created a believable robot society and a robot hero who manages to be relatable and familiar as a thirteen-year-old human boy, while still retaining all his robot characteristics, making for a main character who is both unique and familiar. It's a very nicely constructed balance, especially as robot society looks a lot like ours. Interestingly, it was the idea of wild automobiles roaming free until they're caught and tamed for domestic use, for example, that had my imagination spinning rather frantically. In fact, the whole concept of machines evolving and all was tricky to get my head around, purely because I like all humans have been conditioned to view toasters, for example, as inanimate objects with a specific function and a limited lifespan, not as a pet.

I could clearly see this as a movie, while I was reading it - especially one of those Pixar or Dreamworks computer-animated films that are so wonderful, often thought-provoking and entertaining at the same time. This novel would be ideal for adaptation.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

Check out the fun , if you have a moment.
]]> <![CDATA[Lives of Magic (Seven Wanderers Trilogy, #1)]]> 17246146
As Gwen starts to recover her lost memories and awakens to her power, she suffers the consequences of a divided soul. Gwen and Kian travel to New York and then to England to find others of her kind. Gwen, Garrison, Seth, and Moira need each other to solve the puzzle of their last days in ancient Britannia. They are only as strong as what they remember, but a troublesome history threatens to doom the world. One way or another, a deadly showdown is inevitable, ready or not ...]]> 384 Lucy Leiderman 1459708466 Shannon 2 on top of the water rather than fighting for her life beneath it.

The stranger introduces himself as Kian and tells a strange and incredible tale that Gwen slowly but reluctantly finds herself believing. He tells her that she is the reincarnation of a magician who was sent forward in time through magic, that she must unlock her memories of her previous life in order to unlock her magic. He tells her that she and six others were sent forward in time to battle three bad magicians who steal the magic from those who, like Gwen, inherited it naturally. And he tells her that all the natural disasters, the tsunamis and hurricanes and earthquakes, are a direct result from these powerful magicians' attempts to take over the North American continent. To defeat them, Kian was sent forward in time to find the good magicians, help them reach their powers, and fight the bad magicians. If they don't regain control of their magic, the bad magicians will steal it from them - along with their souls.

So begins a journey unlike any Gwen could have imagined: crossing the country to New York City to find more of her group, and from there to England where their search brings them face-to-face with their enemies and puts their very lives - and souls - in danger. Can this small group of teens gain control of their magic before it's taken from them?

Lives of Magic is, in many ways, fairly standard fantasy. I should really call it "urban fantasy" since it's set in our world rather than a make-believe one, but that sub-genre has been overrun with detective mystery stories so I felt it would be a bit misleading now. When I started reading this, I was rather confused into thinking that Kian came from one of those fantasy worlds; it was a while before I understood that he was from the past. Mostly because he is very vague about who he is and where he's from - at one time I entertained the notion that he was from Atlantis, a mythological place from our own world's history. It really wasn't clear (though it does say it on the back cover, which I hadn't read in a while) that Gwen's past self and Kian were all from ancient England, celtic Britannia.

In truth, it was just one of many such confusions for me as I was reading this. It's the kind of book that I read with a frown on my face, most of the time. There just seemed to be too many plot-holes that may (or may not) have been easily explained by the author, but just weren't. Gwen conveniently took too many things at face value, while not questioning some very obvious problems and holes in Kian's story. It wasn't enough to make the whole story cave in for me, but it was enough to create potholes everywhere for me to stumble in. It wasn't a smooth read, is what I'm trying to say. The pacing was good, and if the plot makes sense to you I'm sure it must read smoothly. But for me it was a very bumpy ride.

That aside (and it is a big thing), there were elements to the story that I did enjoy. I liked the kind of magic Leiderman employed, though we don't learn all that much about it here. I quite liked Gwen - not all the time, and she was very much an adolescent the way she could carry on (realistic but annoying to read) - and there were layers to the other characters that made them interesting. I was very curious about the ancient world they'd all come from, which is pieced together through unlocked memories - like visions and dreams - that Gwen has, but there's still a lot to learn. I didn't really "get" the bad magicians: the world-building to create a stable foundation of understanding was a bit rocky and patchy; without a strong foundation, it's hard to buy into the rest of the story as it plays out. The ending is mostly predictable, but the details were unknowns and kept it from being stale or boring. Gwen comes a long way over the course of the story and takes a leadership role, and I can see her becoming a strong, though still flawed, character (it's always nice for a heroine to have flaws - makes her both more interesting and more realistic, more human).

This is a debut, as well as the first in a trilogy, so there's plenty of room for the author's style to strengthen and become smoother, and for the story to gain flesh and depth. It's a fairly straight-forward premise that somehow seemed complicated and confusing while I was reading it, and I feel that that's down to the writer. It's a pretty good teen fantasy, but for me I couldn't get past the contrivances, the plot-holes, the loads of questions that I couldn't believe Gwen wasn't asking. So I'm conflicted, a bit disappointed, and not invested enough to continue reading the trilogy.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.24 2013 Lives of Magic (Seven Wanderers Trilogy, #1)
author: Lucy Leiderman
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.24
book published: 2013
rating: 2
read at: 2013/09/14
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, fantasy, adventure, time-travel, 2013, removed
review:
Gwen is seventeen and just about to start her final year of school in Oregon, after moving to the state from San Francisco with her veterinarian parents who are trying to escape the extreme upheavals of climate change. On her way to school, though, Gwen realises she's being followed by a strange man. He pursues her and in a panic, Gwen tumbles down a cliff to the wild Pacific Ocean below - and finds herself on her hands and knees on top of the water rather than fighting for her life beneath it.

The stranger introduces himself as Kian and tells a strange and incredible tale that Gwen slowly but reluctantly finds herself believing. He tells her that she is the reincarnation of a magician who was sent forward in time through magic, that she must unlock her memories of her previous life in order to unlock her magic. He tells her that she and six others were sent forward in time to battle three bad magicians who steal the magic from those who, like Gwen, inherited it naturally. And he tells her that all the natural disasters, the tsunamis and hurricanes and earthquakes, are a direct result from these powerful magicians' attempts to take over the North American continent. To defeat them, Kian was sent forward in time to find the good magicians, help them reach their powers, and fight the bad magicians. If they don't regain control of their magic, the bad magicians will steal it from them - along with their souls.

So begins a journey unlike any Gwen could have imagined: crossing the country to New York City to find more of her group, and from there to England where their search brings them face-to-face with their enemies and puts their very lives - and souls - in danger. Can this small group of teens gain control of their magic before it's taken from them?

Lives of Magic is, in many ways, fairly standard fantasy. I should really call it "urban fantasy" since it's set in our world rather than a make-believe one, but that sub-genre has been overrun with detective mystery stories so I felt it would be a bit misleading now. When I started reading this, I was rather confused into thinking that Kian came from one of those fantasy worlds; it was a while before I understood that he was from the past. Mostly because he is very vague about who he is and where he's from - at one time I entertained the notion that he was from Atlantis, a mythological place from our own world's history. It really wasn't clear (though it does say it on the back cover, which I hadn't read in a while) that Gwen's past self and Kian were all from ancient England, celtic Britannia.

In truth, it was just one of many such confusions for me as I was reading this. It's the kind of book that I read with a frown on my face, most of the time. There just seemed to be too many plot-holes that may (or may not) have been easily explained by the author, but just weren't. Gwen conveniently took too many things at face value, while not questioning some very obvious problems and holes in Kian's story. It wasn't enough to make the whole story cave in for me, but it was enough to create potholes everywhere for me to stumble in. It wasn't a smooth read, is what I'm trying to say. The pacing was good, and if the plot makes sense to you I'm sure it must read smoothly. But for me it was a very bumpy ride.

That aside (and it is a big thing), there were elements to the story that I did enjoy. I liked the kind of magic Leiderman employed, though we don't learn all that much about it here. I quite liked Gwen - not all the time, and she was very much an adolescent the way she could carry on (realistic but annoying to read) - and there were layers to the other characters that made them interesting. I was very curious about the ancient world they'd all come from, which is pieced together through unlocked memories - like visions and dreams - that Gwen has, but there's still a lot to learn. I didn't really "get" the bad magicians: the world-building to create a stable foundation of understanding was a bit rocky and patchy; without a strong foundation, it's hard to buy into the rest of the story as it plays out. The ending is mostly predictable, but the details were unknowns and kept it from being stale or boring. Gwen comes a long way over the course of the story and takes a leadership role, and I can see her becoming a strong, though still flawed, character (it's always nice for a heroine to have flaws - makes her both more interesting and more realistic, more human).

This is a debut, as well as the first in a trilogy, so there's plenty of room for the author's style to strengthen and become smoother, and for the story to gain flesh and depth. It's a fairly straight-forward premise that somehow seemed complicated and confusing while I was reading it, and I feel that that's down to the writer. It's a pretty good teen fantasy, but for me I couldn't get past the contrivances, the plot-holes, the loads of questions that I couldn't believe Gwen wasn't asking. So I'm conflicted, a bit disappointed, and not invested enough to continue reading the trilogy.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Invisibility 17616412
Stephen is used to invisibility. He was born that way. Invisible. Cursed.
Elizabeth sometimes wishes for invisibility. When you’re invisible, no one can hurt you. So when her mother decides to move the family to New York City, Elizabeth is thrilled. It’s easy to blend in there.
Then Stephen and Elizabeth meet. To Stephen’s amazement, she can see him. And to Elizabeth’s amazement, she wants him to be able to see her—all of her. But as the two become closer, an invisible world gets in their way—a world of grudges and misfortunes, spells and curses. And once they’re thrust into this world, Elizabeth and Stephen must decide how deep they’re going to go—because the answer could mean the difference between love and death.]]> 358 Andrea Cremer 0141348879 Shannon 3
Elizabeth has just moved in to the apartment down the hall with her mother and her brother Laurie after he was severely beaten by some homophobic kids at school. While Laurie is in summer school, catching up for the months he spent in hospital, and their mother works extra shifts at the hospital where she's an administrator, Elizabeth has been relegated the task of unpacking, buying supplies and getting to know their new home. Her first impression of Stephen isn't a very good one, as he just stands there staring at her, but he soon proves to be someone fun to hang out with, as he shows her his favourite places in Central Park.

For several weeks Stephen is able to pretend he's normal with Elizabeth, that he's visible - because to her, he is. Until finally, one day, the spell is ruined and Elizabeth finds out no one else can see her new boyfriend. With the upbeat help of Laurie, Stephen and Elizabeth confront his father and demand the truth: why is he invisible, and what can they do about it?

The truth is far worse than they could have imagined, and seemingly an impossible thing to solve. But with unexpected help they learn more about the family curse Stephen's grandfather laid on him and his mother, and Elizabeth discovers that she has a big role to play, not just in helping Stephen but many other people as well. But to do so means going up against someone far stronger and more powerful than they, a man who lives to curse people and who has no qualms about killing others for the sake of his own twisted logic.

I find myself drawn to these stories about people who are made invisible or turned into insects etc., though I also find that the stories never quite excite me the way I'd hoped. In a way, that's what happened with Invisibility as well, as it went in a very specific direction that I hadn't really expected (though I should have), which made it a more conventional story in the end. When I started reading this, Andrew Clements' came naturally to mind: another YA story, this one about a boy who wakes up one day to find himself invisible, though when he puts clothes on you can see the shape of his body and where he is. The two novels don't have much in come other than an invisible teenaged boy, and they take the premise in very different directions. I should add that I haven't read anything by Andrea Cremer before, though I have read which David Levithan co-wrote with Rachel Cohn - considering the way the characters talk in that book, I kept confusing Cremer and Levithan and thinking she wrote Nick and Norah. Perhaps, instead, she wrote Stephen's chapters and Levithan wrote Elizabeth's, as she was really more in his style. Or perhaps they wrote both characters together. I'm always curious about how these collaborations work, which seems to be a different process each time. I mention this because for many other readers, it was having these two authors collaborate that got them excited about reading this book: for me, it was the premise only.

Invisibility leaves the dazzling possibilities of Speculative and Magical Realism and instead goes straight down Urban Fantasy lane and turns left at "Magic & Mystery". Or "Magic & Mayhem" - or "Magic & Murder". We meet spellcasters, spellseekers and cursemakers, and there's nothing safe and cute and Disney about any of it. I did like that it became - not dark, but serious. People die, and are severely hurt. There are moments when it reads almost like horror. And here I was thinking it was just going to be a (possibly lame) cutesy romance like the cover implies. It might not have been the story I wanted to read, but at least it was much more than that. It just wasn't the thought-provoking or insightful book I had hoped to read.

Each chapter is told in turns by Stephen and Elizabeth, in first person present tense. It's one of the few times this actually works, and one of the few times when you could actually include their names as chapter headings - I really don't like it when books told in the third person from more than one perspective include names as chapter headings, like it isn't perfectly obvious as you read - Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series does it, as does Veronica Rossi's Under the Never Sky which I just reviewed. When using the first person, though, that's when it makes sense to include a name for the chapter, because you're just getting the personal pronoun ("I"). Still, not doing it isn't a big problem, and the great thing about Invisibility - no doubt thanks to having two authors of different genders collaborating - is how distinct the characters' voices are.

Elizabeth is smart and a bit moody and has an entertaining internal monologue going. She's close to her brother - though I couldn't work out how old Laurie is, or whether he was her twin or just a little younger? Stephen is quieter, introspective, and very alone and isolated. He is deeply caring in a sad, yearning kind of way. You have to feel sorry for Stephen: his own parents don't even know what he looks like, and with his mother gone, he hasn't felt human affection - like a hug - in years. Finding Elizabeth is an incredible experience for him. Their relationship progresses fairly slowly - no instant love here - but I never quite felt any real chemistry between them. They seemed like really close friends to me, not boyfriend and girlfriend. In fact, considering that the ending sets up a sequel (or several), I would have found this to be a much more engrossing story with a higher dose of anticipation if they had just been friends for the whole book, with some tension between them but that's it. It would have made me want to keep reading - as it is, I didn't quite connect with the characters enough to care about what happens next. I mean, there's only so long you can read about an invisible person, as their life really doesn't change. The forward momentum for the overall plot rests with Elizabeth; in contrast, Stephen is rendered passive and almost useless, and after everything he's been through already (just by existing), I felt he really was getting shafted in all this.

The pacing is great, the writing is strong, the characters are nicely developed and feel real and believable; I would have loved this I'm sure but for two sticking points that really merge into one: the direction this story takes. It's often the case that once the mystery behind something strange is revealed, a feeling of anti-climax sets in and everything feels a bit blah afterwards. Considering that we learn the truth of Stephen's invisibility about halfway through the book, there's still plenty of story and plot in which to either lose the reader or reinvest the reader. I dithered between the two. I think the way the story goes would have worked a lot better for me - been a lot stronger - had the ending been different. I would have loved to see things change for Stephen so that in the next book we could watch him grow more, develop into himself and experience the world in a way he never has before, and in turn see his relationship with Elizabeth change, develop, mature.

Sadly, the way the book ends almost renders everything that happened irrelevant and useless. I see no point in reading on if the authors are just going to keep Stephen invisible - his condition being a very useful obstacle in the romance (Romance stories always require an obstacle to keep the hero and heroine apart for as long as possible). For while we learned a lot about this world and its rules and Elizabeth's place in it, plot-wise the ending may as well have been the beginning for all anything really changed for Stephen. And that's where the story lost me, right there on the rooftop for the big finale. (Also, I wished one of the characters had suggested my idea: that Stephen take the deal - and the power - and throw it back, thus gaining visibility and preventing the person who caused it from ever using their power again. Quite possibly there are more rules as to why that wouldn't have worked, but it seemed like such an obvious solution, I would have liked to know why it couldn't have worked, at least.)

Invisibility gets big points for the main characters and their voices, which I really enjoyed. It gets points for the premise and set-up, though I'm not sure that an invisible baby is at all realistic, when you think about it. And I did enjoy the magic side of the story, I was just disappointed by how it didn't go anywhere, and neither did the characters, not really. Maybe if it had been even darker and grittier, the ending would have worked better. As it is, this was an entertaining story and a successful collaboration that maybe suffered from the prospect of too many plot possibilities and so went with the path of least resistance.
]]> 3.32 2013 Invisibility
author: Andrea Cremer
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.32
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/06/19
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, speculative-fiction, 2013, urban-fantasy, removed
review:
Stephen Swinton has always been invisible. He was born that way, and while his father couldn't handle it and left, his mother loved him and kept him and taught him how to give himself weight and presence. It doesn't matter if Stephen puts on clothes - no one can see him. No one has ever seen him. It's a family curse but his mother died of an aneurysm several years ago without ever telling him the truth of his invisibility. His father, who lives in California, pays for the apartment in New York where Stephen lives, the food and clothes he orders online and has left at his door, and rarely calls to check on him. Stephen doesn't mind. He's used to it. He watches people, but they can't see him. Until one day when, to his utter shock, a girl does see him.

Elizabeth has just moved in to the apartment down the hall with her mother and her brother Laurie after he was severely beaten by some homophobic kids at school. While Laurie is in summer school, catching up for the months he spent in hospital, and their mother works extra shifts at the hospital where she's an administrator, Elizabeth has been relegated the task of unpacking, buying supplies and getting to know their new home. Her first impression of Stephen isn't a very good one, as he just stands there staring at her, but he soon proves to be someone fun to hang out with, as he shows her his favourite places in Central Park.

For several weeks Stephen is able to pretend he's normal with Elizabeth, that he's visible - because to her, he is. Until finally, one day, the spell is ruined and Elizabeth finds out no one else can see her new boyfriend. With the upbeat help of Laurie, Stephen and Elizabeth confront his father and demand the truth: why is he invisible, and what can they do about it?

The truth is far worse than they could have imagined, and seemingly an impossible thing to solve. But with unexpected help they learn more about the family curse Stephen's grandfather laid on him and his mother, and Elizabeth discovers that she has a big role to play, not just in helping Stephen but many other people as well. But to do so means going up against someone far stronger and more powerful than they, a man who lives to curse people and who has no qualms about killing others for the sake of his own twisted logic.

I find myself drawn to these stories about people who are made invisible or turned into insects etc., though I also find that the stories never quite excite me the way I'd hoped. In a way, that's what happened with Invisibility as well, as it went in a very specific direction that I hadn't really expected (though I should have), which made it a more conventional story in the end. When I started reading this, Andrew Clements' came naturally to mind: another YA story, this one about a boy who wakes up one day to find himself invisible, though when he puts clothes on you can see the shape of his body and where he is. The two novels don't have much in come other than an invisible teenaged boy, and they take the premise in very different directions. I should add that I haven't read anything by Andrea Cremer before, though I have read which David Levithan co-wrote with Rachel Cohn - considering the way the characters talk in that book, I kept confusing Cremer and Levithan and thinking she wrote Nick and Norah. Perhaps, instead, she wrote Stephen's chapters and Levithan wrote Elizabeth's, as she was really more in his style. Or perhaps they wrote both characters together. I'm always curious about how these collaborations work, which seems to be a different process each time. I mention this because for many other readers, it was having these two authors collaborate that got them excited about reading this book: for me, it was the premise only.

Invisibility leaves the dazzling possibilities of Speculative and Magical Realism and instead goes straight down Urban Fantasy lane and turns left at "Magic & Mystery". Or "Magic & Mayhem" - or "Magic & Murder". We meet spellcasters, spellseekers and cursemakers, and there's nothing safe and cute and Disney about any of it. I did like that it became - not dark, but serious. People die, and are severely hurt. There are moments when it reads almost like horror. And here I was thinking it was just going to be a (possibly lame) cutesy romance like the cover implies. It might not have been the story I wanted to read, but at least it was much more than that. It just wasn't the thought-provoking or insightful book I had hoped to read.

Each chapter is told in turns by Stephen and Elizabeth, in first person present tense. It's one of the few times this actually works, and one of the few times when you could actually include their names as chapter headings - I really don't like it when books told in the third person from more than one perspective include names as chapter headings, like it isn't perfectly obvious as you read - Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series does it, as does Veronica Rossi's Under the Never Sky which I just reviewed. When using the first person, though, that's when it makes sense to include a name for the chapter, because you're just getting the personal pronoun ("I"). Still, not doing it isn't a big problem, and the great thing about Invisibility - no doubt thanks to having two authors of different genders collaborating - is how distinct the characters' voices are.

Elizabeth is smart and a bit moody and has an entertaining internal monologue going. She's close to her brother - though I couldn't work out how old Laurie is, or whether he was her twin or just a little younger? Stephen is quieter, introspective, and very alone and isolated. He is deeply caring in a sad, yearning kind of way. You have to feel sorry for Stephen: his own parents don't even know what he looks like, and with his mother gone, he hasn't felt human affection - like a hug - in years. Finding Elizabeth is an incredible experience for him. Their relationship progresses fairly slowly - no instant love here - but I never quite felt any real chemistry between them. They seemed like really close friends to me, not boyfriend and girlfriend. In fact, considering that the ending sets up a sequel (or several), I would have found this to be a much more engrossing story with a higher dose of anticipation if they had just been friends for the whole book, with some tension between them but that's it. It would have made me want to keep reading - as it is, I didn't quite connect with the characters enough to care about what happens next. I mean, there's only so long you can read about an invisible person, as their life really doesn't change. The forward momentum for the overall plot rests with Elizabeth; in contrast, Stephen is rendered passive and almost useless, and after everything he's been through already (just by existing), I felt he really was getting shafted in all this.

The pacing is great, the writing is strong, the characters are nicely developed and feel real and believable; I would have loved this I'm sure but for two sticking points that really merge into one: the direction this story takes. It's often the case that once the mystery behind something strange is revealed, a feeling of anti-climax sets in and everything feels a bit blah afterwards. Considering that we learn the truth of Stephen's invisibility about halfway through the book, there's still plenty of story and plot in which to either lose the reader or reinvest the reader. I dithered between the two. I think the way the story goes would have worked a lot better for me - been a lot stronger - had the ending been different. I would have loved to see things change for Stephen so that in the next book we could watch him grow more, develop into himself and experience the world in a way he never has before, and in turn see his relationship with Elizabeth change, develop, mature.

Sadly, the way the book ends almost renders everything that happened irrelevant and useless. I see no point in reading on if the authors are just going to keep Stephen invisible - his condition being a very useful obstacle in the romance (Romance stories always require an obstacle to keep the hero and heroine apart for as long as possible). For while we learned a lot about this world and its rules and Elizabeth's place in it, plot-wise the ending may as well have been the beginning for all anything really changed for Stephen. And that's where the story lost me, right there on the rooftop for the big finale. (Also, I wished one of the characters had suggested my idea: that Stephen take the deal - and the power - and throw it back, thus gaining visibility and preventing the person who caused it from ever using their power again. Quite possibly there are more rules as to why that wouldn't have worked, but it seemed like such an obvious solution, I would have liked to know why it couldn't have worked, at least.)

Invisibility gets big points for the main characters and their voices, which I really enjoyed. It gets points for the premise and set-up, though I'm not sure that an invisible baby is at all realistic, when you think about it. And I did enjoy the magic side of the story, I was just disappointed by how it didn't go anywhere, and neither did the characters, not really. Maybe if it had been even darker and grittier, the ending would have worked better. As it is, this was an entertaining story and a successful collaboration that maybe suffered from the prospect of too many plot possibilities and so went with the path of least resistance.

]]> Parallel 17913565
A collision of parallel universes leaves 18-year-old Abby Barnes living a new reality - every time her parallel makes a new decision. Never-without-a-plan Abby is forced to cope with the consequences of waking up in a life she has no memory of creating.

With chapters that alternate between our world (Here) and the parallel one (There), Abby's Here comes complete with a Yale address, a new roomie, and birthday blind date with a super-hot lacrosse player. In the parallel world, Abby's still navigating senior year class schedules, college applications, and her relationship with Astronomy Boy at her high school.

This story explores the nature of identity, the role of cause and effect in young lives and the defining power of choice.]]> 381 Lauren Miller 1407135120 Shannon 4
Abby Barnes is a girl with a plan. For years now her goal has been to attend Northwestern University's journalism program after high school, and works on the school paper and is a member of the cross-country team. But on the first day of grade twelve, in 2008, she has to pick a new elective after the "History of Music" is cancelled. Shuddering at the idea of "Principles of Astronomy" she picks "Drama Methods" and somehow, to her utter shock, ends up landing the lead in the school play. A casting director attends the opening performance, there to see her nephew, and invites Abby to audition for an upcoming Hollywood movie, Everyday Assassins. Originally told the film would be shot over the summer, leaving her plenty of time to get to Northwestern before classes start in September 2009.

This new plan backfires when the film is held back again and again by script rewrites, and Abby ends up living in LA for far longer than she had anticipated, pushing back her university studies and career goals to see out her contract. But on the night before her eighteenth birthday, Abby goes to bed feeling a tremor - hardly unusual for LA. The unusual things start the next morning, when she wakes up to find herself not in her shabby-chic hotel room, but in a dorm room at Yale University in Connecticut.

With no idea how she got there or what's going on - a situation made worse by the fact that everyone, including her perky roommate Marissa, seems to know all about her and has memories of her from the past weeks that she lacks - Abby does what she always does: she calls her best friend, Caitlin. Caitlin, whose mother was a model and her father is a scientist, is also studying at Yale, her life-long dream, in the physics department - Caitlin has to be the most fashionable and beautiful science student anyone's ever seen. She's going out with their other mutual best friend from school, Tyler: that at least hasn't changed.

Caitlin has different memories of how Abby ended up at Yale, too, but she's open to Abby's new version of events and takes Abby to see a professor who has his own theories about what might be going on. Dr Gustav Mann is a Nobel Prize winner who used to teach at Yale; he recognises Abby because in the world she now finds herself in, he taught her "Principles of Astronomy" class the year before - a class she took because, in this parallel world, an earthquake the night before school started knocked out the power and made her late for school, so that by the time she learned she had to pick a new elective, "Drama Methods" was full.

Dr Mann explains his theory about parallel worlds, and that the earthquake they felt a year and a day ago was no earthquake at all, but two parallel worlds colliding and becoming entangled. Abby learns that her parallel is a year and a day behind her, and that any new directions or choices her parallel makes will alter her present reality, so that she can't know from one day to the next what will change, or even where she'll wake up. And her own memories of her parallel's life are also a year and a day behind, so that there is a big year-long gap in her memory, a gap no one else has. She has retained her memories of her other life, and has no control over her new one. Or does she?

As Abby and her parallel self navigate their lives at different ends of a spectrum, they both focus on different boys: Abby meets Michael through her roommate at Yale, while her parallel meets "Astronomy Boy", Josh, in her Principles of Astronomy class. But Abby has no real memories of Josh and no idea what happened between them; she only has her own memories, and the new ones she's making with Michael. As she tries to take charge of her parallel life and fix the perceived damage her parallel self - someone she continues to think of as a different person entirely - makes in the past, Abby has to face a new reality, new consequences of bad decisions, and decide what she really wants for herself.

I must say that this book took me on a bit of a mental roller-coaster ride. My feelings and impressions changed quite a bit over the course of the story, though when I got to the last page and the wonderful ending - which, silly me, I hadn't seen coming at all - I closed the book with a "Wow." I love that kind of experience.

For the most part, I absolutely loved this. From the opening pages, it drew me in with its smart, funny, opinionated heroine. writes with intelligence and an astute eye, and has created a very interesting, creative, sophisticated story that is deeply refreshing and much more mature than most of the YA I've read in recent years. It all comes together so beautifully, and I loved watching Abby grow and mature and really settle into her own skin. Having her parallel, younger self make crappy decisions or change her plans in ways that are unpleasant to Abby, forces her to reassess her priorities and realise some hard truths about herself.

I must admit, though, that I had a hard time following the physics of the premise, though. While the conversation Abby and Caitlin have with Dr Mann in which he explains his theory - the theory that Abby is now living out in truth - was well written and easy to follow, it only raised more questions for me and left me confused. I never quite managed to wrap my head around it. I'm a visual learner, I like maps and diagrams and other visual guides, and felt the need of one here. I also struggled with understanding properly where Abby really was, whether she was in a different, parallel universe while her own went on without her, or...? I mean, even when Dr Mann explains it, I don't quite follow it - I can't picture it, and if I can't picture it, I'm lost. It did my head in, trying to understand it in a way that works for my brain. I was missing the "key", that little bit of information, that single sentence that would make it all click into place for me. As a writer, there's no reasonable way Miller could get every reader's "key" into that scene, or the book, and I appreciate the sensible explanation we do get. It just didn't make sense to me, and parts of it just confused the hell out of me. There were times, in the middle of the story, where I felt extremely frustrated and struggled to stay calm. Then it would seem straight-forward, for a bit, and I would think I got it, but that never lasted. By the end, I had to reconcile myself to not fully understanding the concept, but not letting that ruin the story for me.

I do have to quibble the premise that sees Dr Mann teaching at Abby's high school - with Caitlin the science nerd handy, did we really need Dr Mann in parallel-Abby's school? Caitlin tells Abby that he had taught at Yale but lost his tenured position when he published his controversial theory on parallel worlds. This pulled me up short because as far as I understood, the whole point of tenure is so that academics and researchers could publish work that might be controversial, or attack some big corporation, and be protected. Otherwise, they'd all be muffled and censored. So I'm not sure that that made any sense at all, though I was reading an uncorrected proof.

While reading this was a lot like having the hiccups - little bumps in the narrative that made my brain tighten in confusion - where the story was particularly strong was in the writing, the character of Abby herself (or two selves, as the case may be), and the strength of the male characters, Josh and Michael. Caitlin was a little bit bizarre as the gorgeous, well-dressed science geek with dyslexia, but beneath that exterior description she was a very warm, caring, real person. It was just hard at times to look past appearances. But Abby, Josh and Michael were much more subtle, and lived and breathed on the page. I loved how it all came together, the surprises and twists that felt so right, and how, along with Abby, Josh goes from being a stranger to someone you want to love (I never really liked Michael all that much, or trusted him or felt that comfortable with him. There was just something slightly off about him, which adds to the tension as the story progresses).

I love how this story came together, how all the strands become tangled and then, suddenly, smooth out into that "wow" moment at the end. It was just plain awesome. I loved Abby (both of them), for her flaws and her strengths and her convincing, engaging narrative voice. I loved Caitlin and Tyler and, when I got to know him better, Josh. I loved the premise, even if I didn't fully understand it (and oh how I wish I did, because it makes my brain hurt, not being able to fully grasp something!). I love Miller's writing style, the humour and the maturity and how she made me really care. Even though I was a bit lost in the middle, there was so much to love, and for all those reasons and more I highly recommend this. No doubt, you'll have no problem following the collision of parallel worlds and can come back and help explain it to me!

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.]]> 3.27 2013 Parallel
author: Lauren Miller
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.27
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/05/09
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, parallel-universe, sci-fi, head-spin, 2013, removed
review:
This mind-twisting story about a young woman who's suddenly and abruptly ripped from her life to live a parallel, and very different, one, is a mature, intelligent, and engaging debut novel dealing with second chances.

Abby Barnes is a girl with a plan. For years now her goal has been to attend Northwestern University's journalism program after high school, and works on the school paper and is a member of the cross-country team. But on the first day of grade twelve, in 2008, she has to pick a new elective after the "History of Music" is cancelled. Shuddering at the idea of "Principles of Astronomy" she picks "Drama Methods" and somehow, to her utter shock, ends up landing the lead in the school play. A casting director attends the opening performance, there to see her nephew, and invites Abby to audition for an upcoming Hollywood movie, Everyday Assassins. Originally told the film would be shot over the summer, leaving her plenty of time to get to Northwestern before classes start in September 2009.

This new plan backfires when the film is held back again and again by script rewrites, and Abby ends up living in LA for far longer than she had anticipated, pushing back her university studies and career goals to see out her contract. But on the night before her eighteenth birthday, Abby goes to bed feeling a tremor - hardly unusual for LA. The unusual things start the next morning, when she wakes up to find herself not in her shabby-chic hotel room, but in a dorm room at Yale University in Connecticut.

With no idea how she got there or what's going on - a situation made worse by the fact that everyone, including her perky roommate Marissa, seems to know all about her and has memories of her from the past weeks that she lacks - Abby does what she always does: she calls her best friend, Caitlin. Caitlin, whose mother was a model and her father is a scientist, is also studying at Yale, her life-long dream, in the physics department - Caitlin has to be the most fashionable and beautiful science student anyone's ever seen. She's going out with their other mutual best friend from school, Tyler: that at least hasn't changed.

Caitlin has different memories of how Abby ended up at Yale, too, but she's open to Abby's new version of events and takes Abby to see a professor who has his own theories about what might be going on. Dr Gustav Mann is a Nobel Prize winner who used to teach at Yale; he recognises Abby because in the world she now finds herself in, he taught her "Principles of Astronomy" class the year before - a class she took because, in this parallel world, an earthquake the night before school started knocked out the power and made her late for school, so that by the time she learned she had to pick a new elective, "Drama Methods" was full.

Dr Mann explains his theory about parallel worlds, and that the earthquake they felt a year and a day ago was no earthquake at all, but two parallel worlds colliding and becoming entangled. Abby learns that her parallel is a year and a day behind her, and that any new directions or choices her parallel makes will alter her present reality, so that she can't know from one day to the next what will change, or even where she'll wake up. And her own memories of her parallel's life are also a year and a day behind, so that there is a big year-long gap in her memory, a gap no one else has. She has retained her memories of her other life, and has no control over her new one. Or does she?

As Abby and her parallel self navigate their lives at different ends of a spectrum, they both focus on different boys: Abby meets Michael through her roommate at Yale, while her parallel meets "Astronomy Boy", Josh, in her Principles of Astronomy class. But Abby has no real memories of Josh and no idea what happened between them; she only has her own memories, and the new ones she's making with Michael. As she tries to take charge of her parallel life and fix the perceived damage her parallel self - someone she continues to think of as a different person entirely - makes in the past, Abby has to face a new reality, new consequences of bad decisions, and decide what she really wants for herself.

I must say that this book took me on a bit of a mental roller-coaster ride. My feelings and impressions changed quite a bit over the course of the story, though when I got to the last page and the wonderful ending - which, silly me, I hadn't seen coming at all - I closed the book with a "Wow." I love that kind of experience.

For the most part, I absolutely loved this. From the opening pages, it drew me in with its smart, funny, opinionated heroine. writes with intelligence and an astute eye, and has created a very interesting, creative, sophisticated story that is deeply refreshing and much more mature than most of the YA I've read in recent years. It all comes together so beautifully, and I loved watching Abby grow and mature and really settle into her own skin. Having her parallel, younger self make crappy decisions or change her plans in ways that are unpleasant to Abby, forces her to reassess her priorities and realise some hard truths about herself.

I must admit, though, that I had a hard time following the physics of the premise, though. While the conversation Abby and Caitlin have with Dr Mann in which he explains his theory - the theory that Abby is now living out in truth - was well written and easy to follow, it only raised more questions for me and left me confused. I never quite managed to wrap my head around it. I'm a visual learner, I like maps and diagrams and other visual guides, and felt the need of one here. I also struggled with understanding properly where Abby really was, whether she was in a different, parallel universe while her own went on without her, or...? I mean, even when Dr Mann explains it, I don't quite follow it - I can't picture it, and if I can't picture it, I'm lost. It did my head in, trying to understand it in a way that works for my brain. I was missing the "key", that little bit of information, that single sentence that would make it all click into place for me. As a writer, there's no reasonable way Miller could get every reader's "key" into that scene, or the book, and I appreciate the sensible explanation we do get. It just didn't make sense to me, and parts of it just confused the hell out of me. There were times, in the middle of the story, where I felt extremely frustrated and struggled to stay calm. Then it would seem straight-forward, for a bit, and I would think I got it, but that never lasted. By the end, I had to reconcile myself to not fully understanding the concept, but not letting that ruin the story for me.

I do have to quibble the premise that sees Dr Mann teaching at Abby's high school - with Caitlin the science nerd handy, did we really need Dr Mann in parallel-Abby's school? Caitlin tells Abby that he had taught at Yale but lost his tenured position when he published his controversial theory on parallel worlds. This pulled me up short because as far as I understood, the whole point of tenure is so that academics and researchers could publish work that might be controversial, or attack some big corporation, and be protected. Otherwise, they'd all be muffled and censored. So I'm not sure that that made any sense at all, though I was reading an uncorrected proof.

While reading this was a lot like having the hiccups - little bumps in the narrative that made my brain tighten in confusion - where the story was particularly strong was in the writing, the character of Abby herself (or two selves, as the case may be), and the strength of the male characters, Josh and Michael. Caitlin was a little bit bizarre as the gorgeous, well-dressed science geek with dyslexia, but beneath that exterior description she was a very warm, caring, real person. It was just hard at times to look past appearances. But Abby, Josh and Michael were much more subtle, and lived and breathed on the page. I loved how it all came together, the surprises and twists that felt so right, and how, along with Abby, Josh goes from being a stranger to someone you want to love (I never really liked Michael all that much, or trusted him or felt that comfortable with him. There was just something slightly off about him, which adds to the tension as the story progresses).

I love how this story came together, how all the strands become tangled and then, suddenly, smooth out into that "wow" moment at the end. It was just plain awesome. I loved Abby (both of them), for her flaws and her strengths and her convincing, engaging narrative voice. I loved Caitlin and Tyler and, when I got to know him better, Josh. I loved the premise, even if I didn't fully understand it (and oh how I wish I did, because it makes my brain hurt, not being able to fully grasp something!). I love Miller's writing style, the humour and the maturity and how she made me really care. Even though I was a bit lost in the middle, there was so much to love, and for all those reasons and more I highly recommend this. No doubt, you'll have no problem following the collision of parallel worlds and can come back and help explain it to me!

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.
]]> Slammed (Slammed, #1) 15803858 Alternate cover editions of ISBN 9781476715902 can be found here and here.

Layken's father died suddenly, leaving her to gather every ounce of strength to be a pillar for her family, in order to prevent their world from falling apart. Now her life is taking another unexpected turn...

Layken's mother gets a job which leads to an unwanted move across the country. However, a new home means new neighbours... and Layken's new neighbour is the very attractive Will Cooper.

Will has an intriguing passion for slam poetry, and a matching passion for life. The two feel an irresistible attraction but are rocked to the core when a shocking revelation brings their romance to a screeching halt. Layken and Will must find a way to fight the forces that threaten to tear them apart...or learn to live without each other.]]> 317 Colleen Hoover Shannon 4 This review contains some spoilers.

Six months after eighteen-year-old Layken's father passed away suddenly, she and her mother and brother, nine-year-old Kel, are leaving their Texas home for a small rented house Ypsilanti, Michigan, where her mother's found a nursing job that pays better than her current one. Lake isn't happy to be moving, but she understands the need for it. Having driven a U-Haul across the country with her brother keeping her company, while their mother drives Lake's jeep (her own van is coming later with the rest of their stuff), the morning they arrive at the small new house in the quiet town, Lake meets their neighbour from across the street, Will Cooper, and his own nine-year-old brother, Caulder. Will is twenty-one and dresses for work, so Lake assumes he's finished uni and is employed - especially when she discovers that his parents are dead and he's supporting his brother on his own.

During the week of settling in before Lake starts her last year of high school, she gets to know Will even more, and there's such strong chemistry between them, both of them feel it. She doesn't know a lot of everyday details about him, but she knows what kind of person he is, and she's quickly falling in love - especially when he takes her to Slam poetry night where he performs one of his poems. And the intense, passionate kiss they share speaks loudly for an amazing start to a promising relationship.

That is, until Lake's first day of school where she discovers that Will is finishing his teaching degree by working at her school - teaching the poetry class she signed up for. Instantly, everything is ruined. They both know they can't see each other anymore. Will depends on his job to support his brother, not to mention a future career, and a relationship with a student would destroy that instantly. Lake understands this, but still the pain at the way Will now treats her - not to mention the fact that her feelings for him haven't really changed, only become somewhat tarnished with the sense of threat and gloom hanging over them - starts to consume her life. Between that and the new iffy suspicions she has about her mother and why they moved to Michigan, Lake's eighteenth year is turning out worse than she could ever have imagined. How can she continue this dance with Will when they are constantly struggling against their feelings, living in fear of discovery - even when there's nothing to discover?

I made the decision to reveal the obstacle between Layken and Will's blooming romance because otherwise there isn't enough plot to talk about, though I have kept the truth about her mother out of it. I am struggling with it though, because I didn't know about Will's job when I started reading it - and hadn't guessed, why would you? I didn't even know there was going to be an obstacle, not like that. But I felt the need, so there it is.

This was one of those classically over-the-top, intense, drama-fueled soap-like stories, the kind American authors are especially good at, and Hoover's no exception. She brings out all the guns and leaves you bleeding - or rather, crying - by the side of the road. And then you're up and coming back for more. How does that work, anyway? It does veer into self-indulgence territory quite a lot, but somehow I found myself enjoying it anyway. "Indulging" myself, definitely. There are times when you want to watch some really cheesy drama on TV, right? Well, I'm the same with books.

Slammed is another in an ever-growing list of self-published books made popular by readers that are being picked up by the barrel-load by Simon & Schuster and its imprints (in this case, Atria); it makes good marketing sense, especially after the Fifty Shades trilogy, and with a fan base already established and more readers eager to find out what all the fuss is about, it makes for a thriving business. Slammed is pretty well written, in present tense though Hoover writes it pretty well, with maybe too much focus on small details that, while I'm not averse to details, could have been more smoothly integrated.

I take the coffee out of his hands and pour the contents into my own, then toss the mug into the trash can. I walk to the refrigerator, grab a juice, and place it in front of him. [p.80]


It is consistent though, at least. Wish they'd hired a copy editor though, to remove all the typos.

The story is told from Layken's perspective, and she's a fleshed-out, angst-riddled teenager on the cusp of the cusp of adulthood - no, that's not a typo. She's not quite on the cusp of adulthood, but leaning up against it. It's in how she deals with her frustration and her anger, which makes her sound like a sixteen-year-old all over again; I sometimes lost patience with her, but she still had this nice dose of humour and I liked her for her love and loyalty towards her family. She didn't always make great decisions, but that's what adolescence is all about. And, apparently, your 20s. Have you noticed how much more teenager-like people in their 20s behave these days? God that makes me sound old. They write whole books and studies on it.

My point for bringing it up is Will. For the most part, he's a charming, intelligent, respectful, reliable, supportive young man, and maybe Lake just brings out the youthfulness of him. He's a boy trapped in an older man's responsibilities, and he's doing an admirable job. But Lake strips all that away and suddenly he's a uni student again, sometimes less mature than he makes out - he does punch a guy over her, after all. His inner struggles garnered more sympathy from me than Lake's, in terms of their relationship, or lack thereof.

Speaking of, it's interesting how it was resolved, especially considering the book I read before this, Laura Buzo's - there, it's an inappropriate romance because it's between a fifteen-year-old girl and a twenty-year-old uni student, and they both do the right thing - that is, wait. Here, the obstacles are simply removed so that they can have a happy ending. I far prefer stories with the moral ambiguity of Buzo's, and the maturity with which its dealt with, but I confess that this kind of romance is far more exciting. Cheesier, definitely, but satisfying. That's the difference between Fiction and Romance, though.

There were some issues with the plausibility of the plot, such as the idea of Will being able to support his brother while being a uni student with no inheritance or life insurance to help, and along the way certain things just seemed awfully convenient. One of them is Lake's new best friend, a foster-care girl called Eddie. Now, I loved Eddie and I wish there were more girls with her sense of loyalty, discretion, reliability, priorities etc. But she was also a bit unrealistic. In general, a lot of the characters had that quality about them. Either they fulfilled some stereotype role, or they were a bit too pat. That kind of thing does go hand-in-hand with this kind of heavy-on-the-drama story, though, so you come to expect it and not dwell on it.

I enjoyed this, I really did - I was in the right mood for it, it was a quick, engrossing read, it made me smile at times and it definitely made me cry. I loved Kel and Caulder's halloween costumes - which I can't describe or it gives away a plot point I made an effort not to reveal - and I enjoyed the slam poetry, as well as the snippets of lyrics from the band that Hoover includes at the beginning of each chapter - I'd never heard of them before but I'm curious enough to look them up and listen to their sound. And I loved the advice that her mum gives her, or rather the three questions "every woman should be able to answer yes to before she commits to a man."

"Does he treat you with respect at all times? That's the first question. The second question is, if he is the exact same person twenty years from now that he is today, would you still want to marry him? And finally, does he inspire you to want to be a better person? You find someone you can answer yes about to all three, then you've found a good man." [p.37]


These questions, this advice, is spot-on, and I've certainly learned the truth of it the hard way. The story has some beautiful moments like this throughout, that really lift it up from being just a run-of-the-mill drama, and highlight the humanism in the characters. You can quite easily make a personal and emotional connection to the characters and their lives, which is all I really look for in a good book. So my feelings may be a bit mixed, but I enjoyed this enough to go out and get the second book, Point of Retreat, even though I can't see where the story can go from here and I don't know if I can handle more angst from Lake when everything seemed to be going so well! Still, she's young and life isn't easy. There'll be a day when I'll be in the perfect mood to read more of her story, just you wait.
]]> 4.18 2012 Slammed (Slammed, #1)
author: Colleen Hoover
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.18
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/01/25
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: romance, fiction, 2013, removed
review:
This review contains some spoilers.

Six months after eighteen-year-old Layken's father passed away suddenly, she and her mother and brother, nine-year-old Kel, are leaving their Texas home for a small rented house Ypsilanti, Michigan, where her mother's found a nursing job that pays better than her current one. Lake isn't happy to be moving, but she understands the need for it. Having driven a U-Haul across the country with her brother keeping her company, while their mother drives Lake's jeep (her own van is coming later with the rest of their stuff), the morning they arrive at the small new house in the quiet town, Lake meets their neighbour from across the street, Will Cooper, and his own nine-year-old brother, Caulder. Will is twenty-one and dresses for work, so Lake assumes he's finished uni and is employed - especially when she discovers that his parents are dead and he's supporting his brother on his own.

During the week of settling in before Lake starts her last year of high school, she gets to know Will even more, and there's such strong chemistry between them, both of them feel it. She doesn't know a lot of everyday details about him, but she knows what kind of person he is, and she's quickly falling in love - especially when he takes her to Slam poetry night where he performs one of his poems. And the intense, passionate kiss they share speaks loudly for an amazing start to a promising relationship.

That is, until Lake's first day of school where she discovers that Will is finishing his teaching degree by working at her school - teaching the poetry class she signed up for. Instantly, everything is ruined. They both know they can't see each other anymore. Will depends on his job to support his brother, not to mention a future career, and a relationship with a student would destroy that instantly. Lake understands this, but still the pain at the way Will now treats her - not to mention the fact that her feelings for him haven't really changed, only become somewhat tarnished with the sense of threat and gloom hanging over them - starts to consume her life. Between that and the new iffy suspicions she has about her mother and why they moved to Michigan, Lake's eighteenth year is turning out worse than she could ever have imagined. How can she continue this dance with Will when they are constantly struggling against their feelings, living in fear of discovery - even when there's nothing to discover?

I made the decision to reveal the obstacle between Layken and Will's blooming romance because otherwise there isn't enough plot to talk about, though I have kept the truth about her mother out of it. I am struggling with it though, because I didn't know about Will's job when I started reading it - and hadn't guessed, why would you? I didn't even know there was going to be an obstacle, not like that. But I felt the need, so there it is.

This was one of those classically over-the-top, intense, drama-fueled soap-like stories, the kind American authors are especially good at, and Hoover's no exception. She brings out all the guns and leaves you bleeding - or rather, crying - by the side of the road. And then you're up and coming back for more. How does that work, anyway? It does veer into self-indulgence territory quite a lot, but somehow I found myself enjoying it anyway. "Indulging" myself, definitely. There are times when you want to watch some really cheesy drama on TV, right? Well, I'm the same with books.

Slammed is another in an ever-growing list of self-published books made popular by readers that are being picked up by the barrel-load by Simon & Schuster and its imprints (in this case, Atria); it makes good marketing sense, especially after the Fifty Shades trilogy, and with a fan base already established and more readers eager to find out what all the fuss is about, it makes for a thriving business. Slammed is pretty well written, in present tense though Hoover writes it pretty well, with maybe too much focus on small details that, while I'm not averse to details, could have been more smoothly integrated.

I take the coffee out of his hands and pour the contents into my own, then toss the mug into the trash can. I walk to the refrigerator, grab a juice, and place it in front of him. [p.80]


It is consistent though, at least. Wish they'd hired a copy editor though, to remove all the typos.

The story is told from Layken's perspective, and she's a fleshed-out, angst-riddled teenager on the cusp of the cusp of adulthood - no, that's not a typo. She's not quite on the cusp of adulthood, but leaning up against it. It's in how she deals with her frustration and her anger, which makes her sound like a sixteen-year-old all over again; I sometimes lost patience with her, but she still had this nice dose of humour and I liked her for her love and loyalty towards her family. She didn't always make great decisions, but that's what adolescence is all about. And, apparently, your 20s. Have you noticed how much more teenager-like people in their 20s behave these days? God that makes me sound old. They write whole books and studies on it.

My point for bringing it up is Will. For the most part, he's a charming, intelligent, respectful, reliable, supportive young man, and maybe Lake just brings out the youthfulness of him. He's a boy trapped in an older man's responsibilities, and he's doing an admirable job. But Lake strips all that away and suddenly he's a uni student again, sometimes less mature than he makes out - he does punch a guy over her, after all. His inner struggles garnered more sympathy from me than Lake's, in terms of their relationship, or lack thereof.

Speaking of, it's interesting how it was resolved, especially considering the book I read before this, Laura Buzo's - there, it's an inappropriate romance because it's between a fifteen-year-old girl and a twenty-year-old uni student, and they both do the right thing - that is, wait. Here, the obstacles are simply removed so that they can have a happy ending. I far prefer stories with the moral ambiguity of Buzo's, and the maturity with which its dealt with, but I confess that this kind of romance is far more exciting. Cheesier, definitely, but satisfying. That's the difference between Fiction and Romance, though.

There were some issues with the plausibility of the plot, such as the idea of Will being able to support his brother while being a uni student with no inheritance or life insurance to help, and along the way certain things just seemed awfully convenient. One of them is Lake's new best friend, a foster-care girl called Eddie. Now, I loved Eddie and I wish there were more girls with her sense of loyalty, discretion, reliability, priorities etc. But she was also a bit unrealistic. In general, a lot of the characters had that quality about them. Either they fulfilled some stereotype role, or they were a bit too pat. That kind of thing does go hand-in-hand with this kind of heavy-on-the-drama story, though, so you come to expect it and not dwell on it.

I enjoyed this, I really did - I was in the right mood for it, it was a quick, engrossing read, it made me smile at times and it definitely made me cry. I loved Kel and Caulder's halloween costumes - which I can't describe or it gives away a plot point I made an effort not to reveal - and I enjoyed the slam poetry, as well as the snippets of lyrics from the band that Hoover includes at the beginning of each chapter - I'd never heard of them before but I'm curious enough to look them up and listen to their sound. And I loved the advice that her mum gives her, or rather the three questions "every woman should be able to answer yes to before she commits to a man."

"Does he treat you with respect at all times? That's the first question. The second question is, if he is the exact same person twenty years from now that he is today, would you still want to marry him? And finally, does he inspire you to want to be a better person? You find someone you can answer yes about to all three, then you've found a good man." [p.37]


These questions, this advice, is spot-on, and I've certainly learned the truth of it the hard way. The story has some beautiful moments like this throughout, that really lift it up from being just a run-of-the-mill drama, and highlight the humanism in the characters. You can quite easily make a personal and emotional connection to the characters and their lives, which is all I really look for in a good book. So my feelings may be a bit mixed, but I enjoyed this enough to go out and get the second book, Point of Retreat, even though I can't see where the story can go from here and I don't know if I can handle more angst from Lake when everything seemed to be going so well! Still, she's young and life isn't easy. There'll be a day when I'll be in the perfect mood to read more of her story, just you wait.

]]> <![CDATA[A Long Walk to Water: Based on a True Story]]> 10386845 128 Linda Sue Park 0547577311 Shannon 4 This review contains spoilers.

In 1985, the civil war being fought between the northern, Muslim government in the north of Sudan and the non-Muslim south came to the village where eleven-year-old Salva Dut was at school. With the sound of gunfire in their ears, the entire village and the school children who come from the surrounding villages all ran into the forest, fleeing the violence but with nowhere to go. Salva is alone - all of his family members are at his village which is in the direction of the fighting. Falling in with a group of people who let him tag along, they are held up by some rebel soldiers who take the men and older boys but tell Salva he's too young. Staying with the remnants of the group he first fled with, he wakes up one morning in a barn to find himself completely alone: they have left him behind, no doubt feeling that he is too young to keep up.

After a few days of helping the woman who lives nearby in exchange for some food, a small group of people from his own tribe, the Dinka - though not his village - come along the road and grudgingly agree to take him with them. As they progress, the group grows larger, and one day Salva is excited to find his uncle with them. Armed with a gun and experience as a soldier, Uncle becomes their unofficial leader and with his help and encouragement, Salva manages to keep up with the adults as the cross the Nile and then desert, walking ever onwards to the Ethiopian border and the refugee camp there. But arriving is not the end of his story.

Salva's true story, as told to author Linda Sue Park, is juxtaposed against the story of eleven-year-old Nya from the Nuer tribe, a rival tribe to the Dinka, who must go several times a day on a long walk to the pond to collect water for her family. It is her main job and keeps her occupied, but it's a very hard job. The only reprieve is when the tribe moves to camp by the big lake, but they can't live there all the time because of the fighting with the Dinka, who also come to the lake during the dry months. Everything changes though, the day some strange men come in a jeep and show them where they will dig for water.

The two stories of Salva and Nya don't fully connect until the end, when we see the fruit of Salva's life journey and the task he has set himself: to return to Sudan as the leader of an aid organisation that provides wells for villages like Nya's. Salva was one of thousands and thousands of "Lost Boys", boys who walked through the desert to reach refugee camps. After years in the Ethiopian refugee camp, there was a change of government and it was suddenly, and violently, closed. Salva ended up leading a group of several thousand lost boys to another refugee camp, this time in Kenya. Displaced and orphaned, many of them died on the journey, and life in the refugee camps was merely bearable. With no home to go back to, and their own complex tribal histories preventing them from simply moving somewhere else, only the healthiest were granted asylum in places like the United States, where Salva eventually finds himself, taken in by a couple and their four children in Rochester, in the state of New York - his first experience of snow and real cold.

Nya is a composite character: not someone based on one individual, but a character based on the lives of many girls just like her who are sent to fetch water every day, a long and perilous trek. The task also means they never receive an education, and the contaminated water means many children and sickly adults die from parasites. A well with a pump in her village means big changes for Nya and everyone else. Freeing so many children from carrying water all the time means they can go to school - and can even enable a village to concentrate their resources and build a school. We take our clean and cheap water supply for granted, but elsewhere it is appreciated as the precious resource it really is.

Told in a simple style accessible to children as well as teens, Park provides some basic, comprehensive background to the conflict - a completely separate one from the ongoing genocide in Darfur. The Civil War started in 1983 and continued for a couple of decades, as the south - where the people are from different tribes with their own beliefs - fought against the government which wanted the whole country to be Muslim. It's a simple overview but by its very simplicity makes it accessible to young readers. There are signs, scenes, which show that both sides were equally vicious - it's never a matter of south=good, north=bad. But the focus is on Salva's personal story of survival, not the political and religious agenda causing the conflict. Coming from a position of pretty much complete ignorance (I hadn't even realised there were two separate, unrelated "wars" in Sudan), this was a good starting point for me and gives me a solid foundation upon which to learn more.

The simplicity of the narration didn't detract from the truly tragic and horrifying situation Salva and so many others found themselves in. The only other book I've read that was similar was by Ishmael Beah, which is set in Sierra Leone. The sad fact is, Salva's story is almost a common one in Africa. So many countries being torn apart by tribal, religious or ethnic conflict, often motivated or exacerbated by the plundering of resources. It doesn't help that the countries like Sudan are merely colonial, or European, constructs, often forcing warring groups within the same border. Reading about an individual like Salva really helps to personalise and humanise what otherwise can seem confusing, overwhelming and utterly alien to us in the West.

For such a short book, it packed quite the emotional wallop and certainly did not leave me dry-eyed. I loved how the title refers not just to Nya's endless walk to water but also to Salva's own walk to water: his long walk to safety which was little more than a mirage; and his life's journey to find a way to help his people by returning to establish water wells. A great introduction to the Lost Boys and the civil conflict in Sudan for children, and one I recommend to readers of all ages as well.]]> 4.37 2010 A Long Walk to Water: Based on a True Story
author: Linda Sue Park
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.37
book published: 2010
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/05
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: 2013, childrens, ya, fiction, removed
review:
This review contains spoilers.

In 1985, the civil war being fought between the northern, Muslim government in the north of Sudan and the non-Muslim south came to the village where eleven-year-old Salva Dut was at school. With the sound of gunfire in their ears, the entire village and the school children who come from the surrounding villages all ran into the forest, fleeing the violence but with nowhere to go. Salva is alone - all of his family members are at his village which is in the direction of the fighting. Falling in with a group of people who let him tag along, they are held up by some rebel soldiers who take the men and older boys but tell Salva he's too young. Staying with the remnants of the group he first fled with, he wakes up one morning in a barn to find himself completely alone: they have left him behind, no doubt feeling that he is too young to keep up.

After a few days of helping the woman who lives nearby in exchange for some food, a small group of people from his own tribe, the Dinka - though not his village - come along the road and grudgingly agree to take him with them. As they progress, the group grows larger, and one day Salva is excited to find his uncle with them. Armed with a gun and experience as a soldier, Uncle becomes their unofficial leader and with his help and encouragement, Salva manages to keep up with the adults as the cross the Nile and then desert, walking ever onwards to the Ethiopian border and the refugee camp there. But arriving is not the end of his story.

Salva's true story, as told to author Linda Sue Park, is juxtaposed against the story of eleven-year-old Nya from the Nuer tribe, a rival tribe to the Dinka, who must go several times a day on a long walk to the pond to collect water for her family. It is her main job and keeps her occupied, but it's a very hard job. The only reprieve is when the tribe moves to camp by the big lake, but they can't live there all the time because of the fighting with the Dinka, who also come to the lake during the dry months. Everything changes though, the day some strange men come in a jeep and show them where they will dig for water.

The two stories of Salva and Nya don't fully connect until the end, when we see the fruit of Salva's life journey and the task he has set himself: to return to Sudan as the leader of an aid organisation that provides wells for villages like Nya's. Salva was one of thousands and thousands of "Lost Boys", boys who walked through the desert to reach refugee camps. After years in the Ethiopian refugee camp, there was a change of government and it was suddenly, and violently, closed. Salva ended up leading a group of several thousand lost boys to another refugee camp, this time in Kenya. Displaced and orphaned, many of them died on the journey, and life in the refugee camps was merely bearable. With no home to go back to, and their own complex tribal histories preventing them from simply moving somewhere else, only the healthiest were granted asylum in places like the United States, where Salva eventually finds himself, taken in by a couple and their four children in Rochester, in the state of New York - his first experience of snow and real cold.

Nya is a composite character: not someone based on one individual, but a character based on the lives of many girls just like her who are sent to fetch water every day, a long and perilous trek. The task also means they never receive an education, and the contaminated water means many children and sickly adults die from parasites. A well with a pump in her village means big changes for Nya and everyone else. Freeing so many children from carrying water all the time means they can go to school - and can even enable a village to concentrate their resources and build a school. We take our clean and cheap water supply for granted, but elsewhere it is appreciated as the precious resource it really is.

Told in a simple style accessible to children as well as teens, Park provides some basic, comprehensive background to the conflict - a completely separate one from the ongoing genocide in Darfur. The Civil War started in 1983 and continued for a couple of decades, as the south - where the people are from different tribes with their own beliefs - fought against the government which wanted the whole country to be Muslim. It's a simple overview but by its very simplicity makes it accessible to young readers. There are signs, scenes, which show that both sides were equally vicious - it's never a matter of south=good, north=bad. But the focus is on Salva's personal story of survival, not the political and religious agenda causing the conflict. Coming from a position of pretty much complete ignorance (I hadn't even realised there were two separate, unrelated "wars" in Sudan), this was a good starting point for me and gives me a solid foundation upon which to learn more.

The simplicity of the narration didn't detract from the truly tragic and horrifying situation Salva and so many others found themselves in. The only other book I've read that was similar was by Ishmael Beah, which is set in Sierra Leone. The sad fact is, Salva's story is almost a common one in Africa. So many countries being torn apart by tribal, religious or ethnic conflict, often motivated or exacerbated by the plundering of resources. It doesn't help that the countries like Sudan are merely colonial, or European, constructs, often forcing warring groups within the same border. Reading about an individual like Salva really helps to personalise and humanise what otherwise can seem confusing, overwhelming and utterly alien to us in the West.

For such a short book, it packed quite the emotional wallop and certainly did not leave me dry-eyed. I loved how the title refers not just to Nya's endless walk to water but also to Salva's own walk to water: his long walk to safety which was little more than a mirage; and his life's journey to find a way to help his people by returning to establish water wells. A great introduction to the Lost Boys and the civil conflict in Sudan for children, and one I recommend to readers of all ages as well.
]]> <![CDATA[Under the Never Sky (Under the Never Sky, #1)]]> 11594257 WORLDS KEPT THEM APART.

DESTINY BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER.

Aria has lived her whole life in the protected dome of Reverie. Her entire world confined to its spaces, she's never thought to dream of what lies beyond its doors. So when her mother goes missing, Aria knows her chances of surviving in the outer wasteland long enough to find her are slim.

Then Aria meets an outsider named Perry. He's searching for someone too. He's also wild—a savage—but might be her best hope at staying alive.

If they can survive, they are each other's best hope for finding answers.]]> 374 Veronica Rossi 1907411054 Shannon 4
In an attempt to find out information, she and her friend Paisley agree to tag along with three boys, led by Soren, the son of Counsel Hess, one of their leaders, into a damaged service dome used for agriculture but now sealed off. Soren is a wild card, though, and discovering a fully-grown forest within the dome leads him to the decision to start a fire, something strictly forbidden inside the Pods for the risk of killing them all. The boys go crazy and attack the girls, and Aria is saved by a Savage - one of the uncivilised peoples who live outside the domes. But later, when Aria tries to tell the story of what really happened inside the service dome, she finds herself betrayed and cast outside Reverie.

Alone and at the mercy of the elements, Aria is shocked to find that she hasn't died from breathing the noxious air, though an Aether storm nearly finishes her off. Instead, she has been rescued from certain death by the very same Savage who helped save her from Soren inside Reverie: Peregrine, or Perry for short. The younger brother of the leader of a tribe called the Tides, Perry is "Marked" and has two talents - super-powers derived from evolved genetic mutations. He can smell people's emotions, giving him an extra sense for what people are thinking or about to do, and he has nocturnal vision. When his nephew Talon is captured by the "Moles", or Pod dwellers, he makes a plan for getting him back and that plan involves Aria.

Together these two very different people traverse a wild and inhospitable landscape to reach the one person Perry is sure can help them. Along the way they build trust where there was none, friendship where there was hostility, and come to value each other for more than their skills (of which Perry has lots but Aria, none but singing). Their quest to rescue Talon and find Aria's mother leads them to dual truths: the truth behind the disappearances of other people Perry knows, and the secret as to why Aria can survive outside the domes.

I am a big fan of post-apocalyptic stories featuring domes - or any kind of story featuring domes, really, it doesn't have to post-apocalyptic like this one. My love affair started with Isobelle Carmody's , which at a guess was the first YA book featuring a dome to be published. As such, I have a habit of measuring similar stories against it - it can't really be helped. Under the Never Sky has plenty in common with Scatterlings and other stories featuring domes, but it forges its own path too. It takes the familiar tropes of dome vs. wilderness, people mutated by manmade toxins into a new kind of human, someone from the inside at the mercy of the elements on the outside, and a quest story - it takes these elements as the common threads but spins a new story with enough original elements to help it stand on its own feet.

And there is plenty to like here. The biggest strength this novel has is the writing. The prose is controlled, confident and clear. The pacing is smooth and fairly fast, and even the parts where not much is happening read well and are interesting. I've read my fair share of poorly written YA and this is definitely not one of them, and I have a high appreciation for good storytelling and good prose. There are other parts to this too, like Aria.

Aria started out as a fairly conventional heroine, with a distinctly familiar-sounding voice. She's spent her whole life not only confined to a sterile dome, but has spent most of that time actually living inside the Realms: computer programs that simulate everything from ancient Rome to a nightclub to the opera - places that don't even exist anymore. That's where everyone "lives", experiencing everything through simulation. They might touch each other or even have sex inside a Realm, but outside it, they do little more than eat and sleep and physical contact is strange. They don't even have children the "natural" way anymore, and people give their kids little genetic tweaks - like how Aria was given a stellar singing voice, or Soren was given a tan. "Upgrades", they're called. So her whole life is artificial and very tragic, and she's never learned anything useful. She would never have survived the world outside Reverie without Perry, and she knows it.

But Aria is not one of those annoying, whiny, difficult heroines we've all read. She's smart, she learns from her mistakes, she listens and she's not narrow-minded. She's super ignorant and the mistakes she makes ring true for her character and upbringing, but they garnered more sympathy from me than annoyance. And she grows. She really does grow as a person, in a life-changing way. She "comes into her own", as they say. She finds her inner strength, a confidence and resilience she never would have discovered if she'd stayed within Reverie. But she doesn't change in a way that's unrealistic or too fast; she's still a nicely flawed - or we should say "imperfect" - character who has plenty to learn.

Then there is Perry. He's a bit more typical, being a bit stubborn and taciturn, but at least it fits his character and he, too, grows up some. He's got a long way to go too though. His situation is interesting and a marked contrast to Aria's, and he moves fluidly within the landscape that shaped him. I found it hard to get a good mental image of him, as one of the rare times when the prose stumbled was in describing things like Perry running his hands through his long dark blonde hair, when we'd already been told he had dreadlocks - bit hard to run your hands through dreadlocks like that! I'm not a huge fan of the silent moody heroes anymore than I like the stubborn, mouthy heroines, but I did come to like Perry. I rather wish he went by the name "Peregrine" though, because I really like that name and I'm not so keen on "Perry", which makes me think of a rather nerdy suburban middle class kid who'd really like to be popular but has a daggy haircut.

So where did my love for this story fall short? Everything was there, in place, all the elements for something truly outstanding. And I did enjoy reading this, don't get me wrong. But somehow, at the end of the day, it was all a bit ... safe. Slightly conventional. There was nothing specially new here, for me. It lacked that zing, that spark to make it really stand out. Everything was just a bit too ... neat - including Aria and Perry's slowly growing romance (though, yay, no "instalove"!). I don't know how else to describe it, and it's quite likely that had I read this at a different stage in my life that zing would have been there for me. That's the trouble with growing up and having life experiences, or with reading a lot of books: it gets harder to feel energised and surprised and zapped by books. Maybe I'd feel the same way if I read Scatterlings for the first time ever, now. How sad. Sigh. Anyway, this is a solid story with a fast-moving, exciting storyline and two strong, memorable characters who are taking the overall story in a new, untamed direction. I'll have to read on to find out what's at the other end (or I could just wait for the film).]]> 3.98 2011 Under the Never Sky (Under the Never Sky, #1)
author: Veronica Rossi
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.98
book published: 2011
rating: 4
read at: 2013/06/10
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, sci-fi, romance, 2013, removed
review:
Aria has always lived inside the utilitarian, uniform grey walls of Reverie, one of a group of domes called "Pods" constructed to save people a long time ago. Her mother, Lumina, is a geneticist working on a top-secret project, and left for another Pod called Bliss. Aria hasn't heard from her in five days and she's becomingly increasingly worried about what might have happened at Bliss to bring the communication channels down. Outside the Pods, the environment is a death zone to people like Aria: with its poisonous air she knows she wouldn't last hours - there's a reason why it's nicknamed the Death Shop - so the thought of Bliss attacked by one of the increasingly frequent Aether storms and even partially destroyed, is enough to make her feel panic.

In an attempt to find out information, she and her friend Paisley agree to tag along with three boys, led by Soren, the son of Counsel Hess, one of their leaders, into a damaged service dome used for agriculture but now sealed off. Soren is a wild card, though, and discovering a fully-grown forest within the dome leads him to the decision to start a fire, something strictly forbidden inside the Pods for the risk of killing them all. The boys go crazy and attack the girls, and Aria is saved by a Savage - one of the uncivilised peoples who live outside the domes. But later, when Aria tries to tell the story of what really happened inside the service dome, she finds herself betrayed and cast outside Reverie.

Alone and at the mercy of the elements, Aria is shocked to find that she hasn't died from breathing the noxious air, though an Aether storm nearly finishes her off. Instead, she has been rescued from certain death by the very same Savage who helped save her from Soren inside Reverie: Peregrine, or Perry for short. The younger brother of the leader of a tribe called the Tides, Perry is "Marked" and has two talents - super-powers derived from evolved genetic mutations. He can smell people's emotions, giving him an extra sense for what people are thinking or about to do, and he has nocturnal vision. When his nephew Talon is captured by the "Moles", or Pod dwellers, he makes a plan for getting him back and that plan involves Aria.

Together these two very different people traverse a wild and inhospitable landscape to reach the one person Perry is sure can help them. Along the way they build trust where there was none, friendship where there was hostility, and come to value each other for more than their skills (of which Perry has lots but Aria, none but singing). Their quest to rescue Talon and find Aria's mother leads them to dual truths: the truth behind the disappearances of other people Perry knows, and the secret as to why Aria can survive outside the domes.

I am a big fan of post-apocalyptic stories featuring domes - or any kind of story featuring domes, really, it doesn't have to post-apocalyptic like this one. My love affair started with Isobelle Carmody's , which at a guess was the first YA book featuring a dome to be published. As such, I have a habit of measuring similar stories against it - it can't really be helped. Under the Never Sky has plenty in common with Scatterlings and other stories featuring domes, but it forges its own path too. It takes the familiar tropes of dome vs. wilderness, people mutated by manmade toxins into a new kind of human, someone from the inside at the mercy of the elements on the outside, and a quest story - it takes these elements as the common threads but spins a new story with enough original elements to help it stand on its own feet.

And there is plenty to like here. The biggest strength this novel has is the writing. The prose is controlled, confident and clear. The pacing is smooth and fairly fast, and even the parts where not much is happening read well and are interesting. I've read my fair share of poorly written YA and this is definitely not one of them, and I have a high appreciation for good storytelling and good prose. There are other parts to this too, like Aria.

Aria started out as a fairly conventional heroine, with a distinctly familiar-sounding voice. She's spent her whole life not only confined to a sterile dome, but has spent most of that time actually living inside the Realms: computer programs that simulate everything from ancient Rome to a nightclub to the opera - places that don't even exist anymore. That's where everyone "lives", experiencing everything through simulation. They might touch each other or even have sex inside a Realm, but outside it, they do little more than eat and sleep and physical contact is strange. They don't even have children the "natural" way anymore, and people give their kids little genetic tweaks - like how Aria was given a stellar singing voice, or Soren was given a tan. "Upgrades", they're called. So her whole life is artificial and very tragic, and she's never learned anything useful. She would never have survived the world outside Reverie without Perry, and she knows it.

But Aria is not one of those annoying, whiny, difficult heroines we've all read. She's smart, she learns from her mistakes, she listens and she's not narrow-minded. She's super ignorant and the mistakes she makes ring true for her character and upbringing, but they garnered more sympathy from me than annoyance. And she grows. She really does grow as a person, in a life-changing way. She "comes into her own", as they say. She finds her inner strength, a confidence and resilience she never would have discovered if she'd stayed within Reverie. But she doesn't change in a way that's unrealistic or too fast; she's still a nicely flawed - or we should say "imperfect" - character who has plenty to learn.

Then there is Perry. He's a bit more typical, being a bit stubborn and taciturn, but at least it fits his character and he, too, grows up some. He's got a long way to go too though. His situation is interesting and a marked contrast to Aria's, and he moves fluidly within the landscape that shaped him. I found it hard to get a good mental image of him, as one of the rare times when the prose stumbled was in describing things like Perry running his hands through his long dark blonde hair, when we'd already been told he had dreadlocks - bit hard to run your hands through dreadlocks like that! I'm not a huge fan of the silent moody heroes anymore than I like the stubborn, mouthy heroines, but I did come to like Perry. I rather wish he went by the name "Peregrine" though, because I really like that name and I'm not so keen on "Perry", which makes me think of a rather nerdy suburban middle class kid who'd really like to be popular but has a daggy haircut.

So where did my love for this story fall short? Everything was there, in place, all the elements for something truly outstanding. And I did enjoy reading this, don't get me wrong. But somehow, at the end of the day, it was all a bit ... safe. Slightly conventional. There was nothing specially new here, for me. It lacked that zing, that spark to make it really stand out. Everything was just a bit too ... neat - including Aria and Perry's slowly growing romance (though, yay, no "instalove"!). I don't know how else to describe it, and it's quite likely that had I read this at a different stage in my life that zing would have been there for me. That's the trouble with growing up and having life experiences, or with reading a lot of books: it gets harder to feel energised and surprised and zapped by books. Maybe I'd feel the same way if I read Scatterlings for the first time ever, now. How sad. Sigh. Anyway, this is a solid story with a fast-moving, exciting storyline and two strong, memorable characters who are taking the overall story in a new, untamed direction. I'll have to read on to find out what's at the other end (or I could just wait for the film).
]]> Almost Dead 8385554 328 Assaf Gavron 1554686792 Shannon 3
In Palestine, the brothers behind all three attacks plot their fourth. Fahmi is still just a teenager but already he has been taught how to make bombs, while his older brother Bilahl organises everything, plots and plans and tries to make Fahmi to be as fundamentally zealous as he is. Their father wants Fahmi to go to university, to prosper and be happy and not become one of these super-religious nuts. But the power of Fahmi's brother is greater than his father's. Now he lies in a coma in a Jewish hospital, reliving the events that led to this point in his life and how he came to meet "the Croc", like him even, while his brother plans a way for Fahmi to kill him.

Eitan's focus is elsewhere. He isn't terribly concerned about being a target of Palestinian anger and righteousness. He's fallen in love with the girlfriend of a man who stood next to him on the bus, the same bus that blew up not long after Eitan got off it. He's become immersed in the puzzle of this man, Giora Guetta, and what he was doing in Tel Aviv that day, who he was meeting and why. The clues that will lead him to the answers lie in Giora's palm pilot, a device that escaped destruction by being propelled from the bus and into a tree. But it is only with the help of a young Palestinian man whom he befriends that he will understand any of it.

Almost Dead is partly meant as a comedy, according to the back of the book, but if it is one it is decidedly a black comedy. Told in chapters that alternate between Eitan's first-person narrative and Fahmi's first-person narrative, it has moments of irony but is actually as serious and heavy-hearted as it sounds, especially the Palestinian half. I didn't read it as a comedy. It was far too sad for that.

One of the novels' strengths is how it contrasts the lives of Palestinians with that of middle-class Jews living in Israel. It wasn't flattering, though it does always make me feel some hope that so many Israelites (such as the author) are sympathetic and understanding (and possibly angry about) the occupation of Palestine and what the Palestinians are forced to endure simply for living on land Israel's government wants. Obviously it's not quite that simple, and yet it is. Fahmi's chapters were heart-wrenching and complex and tragic. You can see how he got to where he was, you can see how stuck he is, and you can see how hard it is, once you're on a trajectory, to get off it.

In contrast, Eitan's life is more familiar, even if he lives in the midst of a war zone. He lives in an apartment with his girlfriend, Duchi, whom he doesn't seem to love all that much. He works for a company whose business is to find ways to save other companies time, and his reaction to surviving three separate attacks is one of stunned disbelief, shock, numbness, ambivalence, unconcern, deep concern, and a determination to distract himself completely with some strange, random mystery that really has nothing to do with him. He doesn't feel anger and doesn't even seem to be afraid. Like many middle class people, he struggles to have an opinion one way or the other, recognising that people on both sides are angry and hurt, and unwilling to draw either side's anger or hurt by expressing an opinion (as he noticeably fails to do on the talk show he's invited to be in). He's been living in Israel a long time, but doesn't seem to have spent any amount of time thinking about the issues that surround him.

The story is a little slow at times - that is to say, the middle is a bit slow - but it starts strong and picks up the pace more towards the end, where things start to really converge. I didn't find Eitan to be all that interesting a character, in the grand scheme of things, especially in light of Fahmi's more pivotal story. Yet, I couldn't say that one is more important than the other. They were both realistic, and both represented a truth about Israel and Palestine - not the only truth, but one of many. It is social commentary, and a critique of the situation, without proselytising or moralising: it gently probes the grey areas, the individual humans who help make up a vast and complicated tapestry of lives lived and lost and decisions made that can't be undone. Eitan's story seems like a distraction from this bigger story, but when the answers come in it reads more like an analogy, or a fable, or just a fuck-up in the midst of a bigger fuck-up. A "my god the world is a messy, screwed-up place of unpredictability." It both shakes its head at that and embraces it. I couldn't, in the end, decide what I thought, because it seemed to me that there was something going on here that I couldn't hope to capture and understand by simple virtue of the fact that I haven't lived lives anything like Eitan's or Fahmi's. That only makes me want to learn more, and be open to more perspectives, and to try harder at understanding something that is so much bigger than me and my life.

At its core, this is a book about humanity and the human experience; how, when you get right down to it, we are all the same, regardless of race or ethnicity or class or anything else. We're all human. We all feel and breathe and think and react and we all feel like we're in little isolated bubbles and we forget that everyone feels the same way. It's only when we reach out in search of a connection that we discover, or remember, that whether we're Israeli or Palestinian, Jewish or Muslim, we're still all human. Yet as a story, Almost Dead didn't quite manage to engage me or satisfy me, and what began with strength and charisma became a bit, well, ordinary, as if it lost the point it was trying to make in the flabby middle, and tried to recover at the end but by then the steam had gone out of it. Still, it's a story that will stay with you, and as a character Fahmi especially is so human you feel you can reach into the page and touch him. Hug him. Protect him. Save him. So human that you know you can't, you can only watch helplessly as walks the path of self-destruction in an attempt to find himself, stand up for his people, and live a just and meaningful life. It is tragic in its hollowness. These are the things that stay with me after reading this book, and so no, I couldn't read it as a comedy.]]> 3.20 2006 Almost Dead
author: Assaf Gavron
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.20
book published: 2006
rating: 3
read at: 2013/07/16
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: fiction, 2013, autographed, removed
review:
Eitan Enoch, who goes by the nickname Croc, is a fairly ordinary thirty-three year old man living in Tel Aviv with a super-anxious girlfriend, Duchi, and parents who moved back to America. But now, something unordinary is happening to Croc: he survives a suicide bomb attack. And then gunfire on the highway to Jerusalem. And then another suicide bomber's attack in a cafe while he is having coffee with the girlfriend of a man who died in the first attack. In the space of just a few days, Eitan becomes a bit of a local celebrity. The man they couldn't kill. A symbol for Jewish resistance, survival, persecution and God's favour.

In Palestine, the brothers behind all three attacks plot their fourth. Fahmi is still just a teenager but already he has been taught how to make bombs, while his older brother Bilahl organises everything, plots and plans and tries to make Fahmi to be as fundamentally zealous as he is. Their father wants Fahmi to go to university, to prosper and be happy and not become one of these super-religious nuts. But the power of Fahmi's brother is greater than his father's. Now he lies in a coma in a Jewish hospital, reliving the events that led to this point in his life and how he came to meet "the Croc", like him even, while his brother plans a way for Fahmi to kill him.

Eitan's focus is elsewhere. He isn't terribly concerned about being a target of Palestinian anger and righteousness. He's fallen in love with the girlfriend of a man who stood next to him on the bus, the same bus that blew up not long after Eitan got off it. He's become immersed in the puzzle of this man, Giora Guetta, and what he was doing in Tel Aviv that day, who he was meeting and why. The clues that will lead him to the answers lie in Giora's palm pilot, a device that escaped destruction by being propelled from the bus and into a tree. But it is only with the help of a young Palestinian man whom he befriends that he will understand any of it.

Almost Dead is partly meant as a comedy, according to the back of the book, but if it is one it is decidedly a black comedy. Told in chapters that alternate between Eitan's first-person narrative and Fahmi's first-person narrative, it has moments of irony but is actually as serious and heavy-hearted as it sounds, especially the Palestinian half. I didn't read it as a comedy. It was far too sad for that.

One of the novels' strengths is how it contrasts the lives of Palestinians with that of middle-class Jews living in Israel. It wasn't flattering, though it does always make me feel some hope that so many Israelites (such as the author) are sympathetic and understanding (and possibly angry about) the occupation of Palestine and what the Palestinians are forced to endure simply for living on land Israel's government wants. Obviously it's not quite that simple, and yet it is. Fahmi's chapters were heart-wrenching and complex and tragic. You can see how he got to where he was, you can see how stuck he is, and you can see how hard it is, once you're on a trajectory, to get off it.

In contrast, Eitan's life is more familiar, even if he lives in the midst of a war zone. He lives in an apartment with his girlfriend, Duchi, whom he doesn't seem to love all that much. He works for a company whose business is to find ways to save other companies time, and his reaction to surviving three separate attacks is one of stunned disbelief, shock, numbness, ambivalence, unconcern, deep concern, and a determination to distract himself completely with some strange, random mystery that really has nothing to do with him. He doesn't feel anger and doesn't even seem to be afraid. Like many middle class people, he struggles to have an opinion one way or the other, recognising that people on both sides are angry and hurt, and unwilling to draw either side's anger or hurt by expressing an opinion (as he noticeably fails to do on the talk show he's invited to be in). He's been living in Israel a long time, but doesn't seem to have spent any amount of time thinking about the issues that surround him.

The story is a little slow at times - that is to say, the middle is a bit slow - but it starts strong and picks up the pace more towards the end, where things start to really converge. I didn't find Eitan to be all that interesting a character, in the grand scheme of things, especially in light of Fahmi's more pivotal story. Yet, I couldn't say that one is more important than the other. They were both realistic, and both represented a truth about Israel and Palestine - not the only truth, but one of many. It is social commentary, and a critique of the situation, without proselytising or moralising: it gently probes the grey areas, the individual humans who help make up a vast and complicated tapestry of lives lived and lost and decisions made that can't be undone. Eitan's story seems like a distraction from this bigger story, but when the answers come in it reads more like an analogy, or a fable, or just a fuck-up in the midst of a bigger fuck-up. A "my god the world is a messy, screwed-up place of unpredictability." It both shakes its head at that and embraces it. I couldn't, in the end, decide what I thought, because it seemed to me that there was something going on here that I couldn't hope to capture and understand by simple virtue of the fact that I haven't lived lives anything like Eitan's or Fahmi's. That only makes me want to learn more, and be open to more perspectives, and to try harder at understanding something that is so much bigger than me and my life.

At its core, this is a book about humanity and the human experience; how, when you get right down to it, we are all the same, regardless of race or ethnicity or class or anything else. We're all human. We all feel and breathe and think and react and we all feel like we're in little isolated bubbles and we forget that everyone feels the same way. It's only when we reach out in search of a connection that we discover, or remember, that whether we're Israeli or Palestinian, Jewish or Muslim, we're still all human. Yet as a story, Almost Dead didn't quite manage to engage me or satisfy me, and what began with strength and charisma became a bit, well, ordinary, as if it lost the point it was trying to make in the flabby middle, and tried to recover at the end but by then the steam had gone out of it. Still, it's a story that will stay with you, and as a character Fahmi especially is so human you feel you can reach into the page and touch him. Hug him. Protect him. Save him. So human that you know you can't, you can only watch helplessly as walks the path of self-destruction in an attempt to find himself, stand up for his people, and live a just and meaningful life. It is tragic in its hollowness. These are the things that stay with me after reading this book, and so no, I couldn't read it as a comedy.
]]> Zinsky the Obscure 15784138 A Confederacy of Dunces and The Perks of Being a Wallflower will relate to this tale of overcoming your childhood's traumas, and the world's indifference to them.

“A powerful debut with Dickensian touches in its heartbreaking and occasionally humorous chronicle of the life of a modern young man.” – Kirkus Reviews

“This wry debut novel takes on the classic coming-of-age saga, and it makes the reader rethink common assumptions about how young people get from here to there.” – Booklist]]> 358 Ilan Mochari 1937677117 Shannon 2
At thirty, Ariel has decided to write his life history. If he could just explain his awful childhood, people would understand him better, surely. Not that anyone seems all that interested. Ariel vacillates between wallowing in self-pity, determined that women will always reject him, and feeling quite pleased with himself. He's managed to follow his dream and make a lot of money out of it, after all. After losing his virginity in his last year of university to a gorgeous girl called Shelagh ("Sheila"), a sexual relationship that went nowhere, Ariel moves to Boston and there meets Diana. But Diana, Ariel's father is convinced, is like all women in that they only want one thing: a man's sperm. They're like praying mantis', he explains: once they've mated, they bite off the male's head and eat him. It's clear - to everyone else at least - that Diana wants marriage and children, but Ariel is perfectly happy having a girlfriend/best friend and would like to just let things continue the way they are.

Is it any wonder, with a father who beat him as a child and who continues to erode Ariel's sense of self-worth or his ability to respect women, that Ariel's own views on relationships are rather messed up? He doesn't ever want to marry or have children. He doesn't want to be a father. His own father has soured him on that forever, and he explains his rationale as dating back to childhood. The only relationship Ariel can really count on is with his mother, Barbara, but after years of boyfriends she has finally gone and got married to a Jewish lawyer called Neil.

As Ariel leads us through his life and all its successes and failures, we come to understand one thing at least: Ariel Zinsky is a lost little boy yearning for the safety of his mother's arms, growing up in the big city jungle and struggling to hold onto his principles and his sense of self within the relationships he forms, and without.

Ariel's story begins in 1980, when he was five and his father left, moving to New Mexico with his new girlfriend Cam, an accountant from his company (years later they have a daughter, Sandra). But the story begins begins the following year, when he was six and his father visits and the physical abuse begins. We follow Ariel through the 80s and his awkward childhood, his self-mutilation and feelings of suicide. We skim through his adolescence, where the highlight was his time working at a nearby supermarket. His story shifts gears at the University of Michigan, where he not only kisses a girl for the first time but also gets dragged into playing basketball. It's at uni that he starts writing his Guide, an annual book of over a hundred pages all about American football, which he tries to sell for five dollars per copy. It's a dismal start really, but it's a start - and the start of something much bigger. Ariel may lack confidence or clarity regarding women and relationships, but he knows football.

This coming-of-age novel has been called "Dickensian" by others; it certainly has that style and flavour, that sense of the absurd in its characters that make it both more realistic and less dull than real life. Ariel himself is an exaggeration: exaggeratedly tall, hairless and awkward. Interestingly, he is not a real social outcast, and he has a great deal of confidence. He may have deep neuroses about women and love and his own attractiveness, among other things, but they never stop him from pursuing women and relationships, from wanting love.

We reached her house. I stood a yard away from her, my back against a lamppost. At that distance she had little reason to anticipate a quick-strike kiss. I ached to hold her face but feared my own despondency in the wake of a rejection. The risk of a failed kiss - and therefore never again seeing her in a romantic context - frightened me as if my life were in the balance. Whereas saving my lip-lock attempt for a later night - or rather, simply gaining consent to call her for a future date - would infuse my life with hope, or the necessary illusion of it, a lottery ticket purchased days before the drawing. [p.165]


It is a highly detailed story, realistic and tangible, and Ariel's voice is recognisable, familiar, believable, real. He is something of an unreliable narrator: while very perceptive in general, he has that skewed sense of self and when his paranoia or fears take over, he has a skewed, childish understanding of others too. He's not very mature, but he's smart in certain areas and reads a lot. In fact, there are a lot of literary references throughout the novel, along with references to American football (I confess I started skipping over those; I have zero interest in American football, which I don't even consider to be a real sport: it's more like a colourful tribal dance), especially The Great Gatsby, considering that's where Ariel grew up, in Great Neck which was renamed West Egg in the book. With his mother he visits the house Fitzgerald used as a model for Gatsby's mansion, and the extract from his fourth-year essay comparing Nick Carraway to Matthew from the Gospels that Ariel includes in his narrative [p. 104] was really fascinating to read.

As an adult, Ariel's relationship to his father becomes even more of a façade, with his father reduced to provoking him verbally with misogynistic comments and Ariel lashing back with references to his own childhood, barely concealed.

"Were you trying to reach my voicemail," I asked, "or did you actually want to have a conversation?"
"You know how it is," he said.
"I guess you're stuck with me," I said. "So what's up? How's your real family?"
"What can I say," he said. "I love Sandra, and I still love Cam, and I can live with the fact that she's not crazy about me anymore, as long as the excess devotion goes to Sandra."
"But you haven't tested Sandra's character yet, have you? How can you love Sandra until you see how she responds to a nice kick in the gut?"
"Ari, don't give me guilt over how I treated you, okay? Seriously. You sound like those Indians on reservations that are still pissed at the American government. It happened. Life is brutal sometimes. Get over it." [p.113]


There's no denying that Ariel's father, Robert Zinsky, is a complete bastard, and he seems perfectly aware of that fact too. No one's perfect in this book, which makes them all the more familiar, and Mochari has a deft hand at capturing class - especially conservative, upper-middle class (Diana's family made quite the scary impression on me) - though we only really get to know people through Ariel's selfish, egoistic, narrow world view. He has a biting, oft-times witty social commentary, but as with most people who are quick to point out flaws and make a deflective joke about them, they just sound bitter and lonely rather than funny.

I wanted to speak to some of the things I admired about this book before I mentioned my own experience reading it, and I don't think I can put it off any longer. In short, I struggled. It took me days just to get halfway, and I really didn't think I'd be able to finish it at all. It's slow. Ariel doesn't really develop much, as a person, he just gets more entrenched in his outlook and goals, his immaturity and stereotypically male commitment-phobia becomes more difficult to sympathise with.

I felt I'd done nothing incredibly wrong. I was tempted to follow her down the sidewalk, to shout and scream about how sorry I was and how much I loved her. But a part of me wanted her to apologize: for thrusting Gale and Ira in our path, for not being at home when I arrived, and for not giving me some head after my two-hour drive. [p.280]


I have to hand it to Mochari: a lot of the writing is clever and well done. But it's also bogged-down in Ari's introspection (an introspection that never changes tone, being a self-reflection of thirty-year-old Ariel which is very much fixed in place), there's not a great deal of forward momentum, the pacing was at times excruciating, the flow lacking, and at the halfway mark I had trouble caring enough about Ariel to continue reading. There were a few things I wanted to learn about, though, so I stuck with it, and I am glad I did (I'm always glad I finished a book I was struggling with, and even books I don't like a great deal, I still learn a lot from).

In many ways, this book should have been a perfect match for me. It has a lot of elements that I love reading about, right down to Ariel's honesty about his own sexual habits (which are very un-sexy, might I add). The violence - especially towards boy-Ariel as well as the cat - I had trouble with: it was bad enough before, but now I have a child of my own, it has become incredibly hard for me to read descriptions of child abuse. And as an adult, there's certainly no attempt on Ariel's part to make himself likeable - watching him become more and more fixed in his thinking was not surprising but it was rather depressing. Overall, the novel was too long (Ari is a great waffler) and a bit too realistic. Real life, real people, don't make for terribly readable stories; that's the Dickens lesson: tweak your characters with a bit of absurdity and they become more palatable, because they become more fictional. The same could be said of the narrative, the story, itself. It became that I wasn't sure why I was listening to Ariel - considering it really does read like his life story, with its clear goal of making himself heard, I felt I really needed a reason to read it but all I got was Ariel whining to me. It was that feeling of being trapped in your seat on a plane, with the passenger, a stranger, beside you talking your ear off with their life story and you not only have no vested interest in listening, but you can't escape either.

I had a bit of trouble with continuity and period details, as well. I have very clear memories of getting my first internet connection and university email address in third-year university. That was the year 2000. Not all that long ago, right? And a mobile phone the following year. Ari refers to email and voicemail much earlier in 1995 (when my school was replacing our old computers with COLOUR monitors!), which didn't ring true to me. I was also confused that someone who had studied accounting at university was so absolutely terrible at balancing the books of his own fledgling business. Being in the red isn't unusual, but he went willingly, deeply into debt to meet orders for his Guide, never seeming to consider ideas as simple as, say, hmm, charging enough to cover his basic costs? Anyway, that's a little thing but for someone as smart as Ariel was supposed to be, it surprised me that he struggled with basic cost analysis.

It's not difficult for me to admire certain elements of a novel and yet be unimpressed by it as a novel. I do think Mochari has created a larger-than-life character, one I will certainly not forget, and often the prose impressed me. But as a story, it lacked in too many areas for me to say I liked it - and when a book feels too much like a chore to read, I know it hasn't succeeded with this particular reader. Others have enjoyed it a lot more than I did, and I'm sure Mochari's second novel will be stronger, tighter, more gripping, less bogged down in minutiae, because it won't be Ariel talking, and Ariel, like all men with his sense of personal worth, his world view and his certainty in his own opinions, really likes to talk (reminds me rather uncomfortably of how I waffle on in my reviews, but hey, these are all first drafts).

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.97 2012 Zinsky the Obscure
author: Ilan Mochari
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.97
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/07/31
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: fiction, tlc-book-tours, 2013, gritty-realism, removed
review:
Ariel Zinsky is thirty and living in Manhattan as a self-made man, enjoying his life, his liberty and his football. And his masturbation. Half-Jewish, Ariel is supremely tall (6 foot 8), has been completely bald and hairless overall since he was sixteen (for no known reason), and is scarred from his parents' broken marriage and the physical beatings his father dealt him over the years, whenever he visited. To say he has issues - with women, with being a father, with relationships in general - would be a bit of an understatement. His self-image is a negative one: he sees himself as freakishly tall, freakishly bald and a loser. And a failure. He leaves notes to this effect all over his apartment, mostly to berate himself.

At thirty, Ariel has decided to write his life history. If he could just explain his awful childhood, people would understand him better, surely. Not that anyone seems all that interested. Ariel vacillates between wallowing in self-pity, determined that women will always reject him, and feeling quite pleased with himself. He's managed to follow his dream and make a lot of money out of it, after all. After losing his virginity in his last year of university to a gorgeous girl called Shelagh ("Sheila"), a sexual relationship that went nowhere, Ariel moves to Boston and there meets Diana. But Diana, Ariel's father is convinced, is like all women in that they only want one thing: a man's sperm. They're like praying mantis', he explains: once they've mated, they bite off the male's head and eat him. It's clear - to everyone else at least - that Diana wants marriage and children, but Ariel is perfectly happy having a girlfriend/best friend and would like to just let things continue the way they are.

Is it any wonder, with a father who beat him as a child and who continues to erode Ariel's sense of self-worth or his ability to respect women, that Ariel's own views on relationships are rather messed up? He doesn't ever want to marry or have children. He doesn't want to be a father. His own father has soured him on that forever, and he explains his rationale as dating back to childhood. The only relationship Ariel can really count on is with his mother, Barbara, but after years of boyfriends she has finally gone and got married to a Jewish lawyer called Neil.

As Ariel leads us through his life and all its successes and failures, we come to understand one thing at least: Ariel Zinsky is a lost little boy yearning for the safety of his mother's arms, growing up in the big city jungle and struggling to hold onto his principles and his sense of self within the relationships he forms, and without.

Ariel's story begins in 1980, when he was five and his father left, moving to New Mexico with his new girlfriend Cam, an accountant from his company (years later they have a daughter, Sandra). But the story begins begins the following year, when he was six and his father visits and the physical abuse begins. We follow Ariel through the 80s and his awkward childhood, his self-mutilation and feelings of suicide. We skim through his adolescence, where the highlight was his time working at a nearby supermarket. His story shifts gears at the University of Michigan, where he not only kisses a girl for the first time but also gets dragged into playing basketball. It's at uni that he starts writing his Guide, an annual book of over a hundred pages all about American football, which he tries to sell for five dollars per copy. It's a dismal start really, but it's a start - and the start of something much bigger. Ariel may lack confidence or clarity regarding women and relationships, but he knows football.

This coming-of-age novel has been called "Dickensian" by others; it certainly has that style and flavour, that sense of the absurd in its characters that make it both more realistic and less dull than real life. Ariel himself is an exaggeration: exaggeratedly tall, hairless and awkward. Interestingly, he is not a real social outcast, and he has a great deal of confidence. He may have deep neuroses about women and love and his own attractiveness, among other things, but they never stop him from pursuing women and relationships, from wanting love.

We reached her house. I stood a yard away from her, my back against a lamppost. At that distance she had little reason to anticipate a quick-strike kiss. I ached to hold her face but feared my own despondency in the wake of a rejection. The risk of a failed kiss - and therefore never again seeing her in a romantic context - frightened me as if my life were in the balance. Whereas saving my lip-lock attempt for a later night - or rather, simply gaining consent to call her for a future date - would infuse my life with hope, or the necessary illusion of it, a lottery ticket purchased days before the drawing. [p.165]


It is a highly detailed story, realistic and tangible, and Ariel's voice is recognisable, familiar, believable, real. He is something of an unreliable narrator: while very perceptive in general, he has that skewed sense of self and when his paranoia or fears take over, he has a skewed, childish understanding of others too. He's not very mature, but he's smart in certain areas and reads a lot. In fact, there are a lot of literary references throughout the novel, along with references to American football (I confess I started skipping over those; I have zero interest in American football, which I don't even consider to be a real sport: it's more like a colourful tribal dance), especially The Great Gatsby, considering that's where Ariel grew up, in Great Neck which was renamed West Egg in the book. With his mother he visits the house Fitzgerald used as a model for Gatsby's mansion, and the extract from his fourth-year essay comparing Nick Carraway to Matthew from the Gospels that Ariel includes in his narrative [p. 104] was really fascinating to read.

As an adult, Ariel's relationship to his father becomes even more of a façade, with his father reduced to provoking him verbally with misogynistic comments and Ariel lashing back with references to his own childhood, barely concealed.

"Were you trying to reach my voicemail," I asked, "or did you actually want to have a conversation?"
"You know how it is," he said.
"I guess you're stuck with me," I said. "So what's up? How's your real family?"
"What can I say," he said. "I love Sandra, and I still love Cam, and I can live with the fact that she's not crazy about me anymore, as long as the excess devotion goes to Sandra."
"But you haven't tested Sandra's character yet, have you? How can you love Sandra until you see how she responds to a nice kick in the gut?"
"Ari, don't give me guilt over how I treated you, okay? Seriously. You sound like those Indians on reservations that are still pissed at the American government. It happened. Life is brutal sometimes. Get over it." [p.113]


There's no denying that Ariel's father, Robert Zinsky, is a complete bastard, and he seems perfectly aware of that fact too. No one's perfect in this book, which makes them all the more familiar, and Mochari has a deft hand at capturing class - especially conservative, upper-middle class (Diana's family made quite the scary impression on me) - though we only really get to know people through Ariel's selfish, egoistic, narrow world view. He has a biting, oft-times witty social commentary, but as with most people who are quick to point out flaws and make a deflective joke about them, they just sound bitter and lonely rather than funny.

I wanted to speak to some of the things I admired about this book before I mentioned my own experience reading it, and I don't think I can put it off any longer. In short, I struggled. It took me days just to get halfway, and I really didn't think I'd be able to finish it at all. It's slow. Ariel doesn't really develop much, as a person, he just gets more entrenched in his outlook and goals, his immaturity and stereotypically male commitment-phobia becomes more difficult to sympathise with.

I felt I'd done nothing incredibly wrong. I was tempted to follow her down the sidewalk, to shout and scream about how sorry I was and how much I loved her. But a part of me wanted her to apologize: for thrusting Gale and Ira in our path, for not being at home when I arrived, and for not giving me some head after my two-hour drive. [p.280]


I have to hand it to Mochari: a lot of the writing is clever and well done. But it's also bogged-down in Ari's introspection (an introspection that never changes tone, being a self-reflection of thirty-year-old Ariel which is very much fixed in place), there's not a great deal of forward momentum, the pacing was at times excruciating, the flow lacking, and at the halfway mark I had trouble caring enough about Ariel to continue reading. There were a few things I wanted to learn about, though, so I stuck with it, and I am glad I did (I'm always glad I finished a book I was struggling with, and even books I don't like a great deal, I still learn a lot from).

In many ways, this book should have been a perfect match for me. It has a lot of elements that I love reading about, right down to Ariel's honesty about his own sexual habits (which are very un-sexy, might I add). The violence - especially towards boy-Ariel as well as the cat - I had trouble with: it was bad enough before, but now I have a child of my own, it has become incredibly hard for me to read descriptions of child abuse. And as an adult, there's certainly no attempt on Ariel's part to make himself likeable - watching him become more and more fixed in his thinking was not surprising but it was rather depressing. Overall, the novel was too long (Ari is a great waffler) and a bit too realistic. Real life, real people, don't make for terribly readable stories; that's the Dickens lesson: tweak your characters with a bit of absurdity and they become more palatable, because they become more fictional. The same could be said of the narrative, the story, itself. It became that I wasn't sure why I was listening to Ariel - considering it really does read like his life story, with its clear goal of making himself heard, I felt I really needed a reason to read it but all I got was Ariel whining to me. It was that feeling of being trapped in your seat on a plane, with the passenger, a stranger, beside you talking your ear off with their life story and you not only have no vested interest in listening, but you can't escape either.

I had a bit of trouble with continuity and period details, as well. I have very clear memories of getting my first internet connection and university email address in third-year university. That was the year 2000. Not all that long ago, right? And a mobile phone the following year. Ari refers to email and voicemail much earlier in 1995 (when my school was replacing our old computers with COLOUR monitors!), which didn't ring true to me. I was also confused that someone who had studied accounting at university was so absolutely terrible at balancing the books of his own fledgling business. Being in the red isn't unusual, but he went willingly, deeply into debt to meet orders for his Guide, never seeming to consider ideas as simple as, say, hmm, charging enough to cover his basic costs? Anyway, that's a little thing but for someone as smart as Ariel was supposed to be, it surprised me that he struggled with basic cost analysis.

It's not difficult for me to admire certain elements of a novel and yet be unimpressed by it as a novel. I do think Mochari has created a larger-than-life character, one I will certainly not forget, and often the prose impressed me. But as a story, it lacked in too many areas for me to say I liked it - and when a book feels too much like a chore to read, I know it hasn't succeeded with this particular reader. Others have enjoyed it a lot more than I did, and I'm sure Mochari's second novel will be stronger, tighter, more gripping, less bogged down in minutiae, because it won't be Ariel talking, and Ariel, like all men with his sense of personal worth, his world view and his certainty in his own opinions, really likes to talk (reminds me rather uncomfortably of how I waffle on in my reviews, but hey, these are all first drafts).

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> <![CDATA[Outback Dreams (Bunyip Bay, #1)]]> 18139303
Faith Forrester is at a crossroads. Single, thirty and living on a farm in a small Western Australian town, she’s sick of being treated like a kitchen slave by her brother and father. Ten years ago, her mother died of breast cancer, and Faith has been treading water ever since. She wants to get her hands dirty on the family farm. She wants to prove to herself that she’s done something worthwhile with her life. And she wants to find a man...

For as long as he can remember, Daniel ‘Monty’ Montgomery has been Faith’s best friend. When he was ten, his parents sold the family property and moved to Perth, and ever since, Monty’s dreamed of having his own farm. So for the last ten years, he’s been back on the land, working odd jobs and saving every dollar to put toward his dream. Now he finally has the deposit. But there’s still something missing...

So when Faith embarks on a mission to raise money for a charity close to her heart, and Monty’s dream property comes on the market, things seem like they are falling into place for them both. Until a drunken night out ends with them sleeping together. Suddenly, the best friends are faced with a new load of challenges...

Monty and Faith are both ready to find a life partner and settle down, but have they both been looking in all the wrong places?]]> 352 Rachael Johns Shannon 3
But when Faith attends her old private girls' boarding school's alumnae dinner, she finds herself turning Monty into her boyfriend in order to not sound quite as boring and lacking as she feels amongst all the glamorous, rich and successful women at the event. Such is her newfound feeling of inadequacy - after all, she's twenty-eight and ever since her mum died eight years ago all she's done is kept house for her father and brother while they work the farm - that she finds herself signing up to the charity fundraising challenge. This is the year, she vows, that she'll do something with her life, make a difference, and start thinking about getting a real job since her dad won't let her help out on the farm in the ways she wants to.

Monty has a good old laugh when she tells him she pretended he was her boyfriend, but he's got his own eyes set on model-like Ruby who's recently moved back to Bunyip Bay and is staying with her parents while she helps them in their shop. Ruby seems like a princess and a fake to Faith, who thinks she needs to protect Monty from the other woman. Monty has worked over the years at any and every job he can find in the area in order to save enough money for a deposit on his own farm, and now that he's been approved by the bank Ruby is suddenly taking an interest in him. It brings out Faith's claws, and she's cold and unfriendly towards Ruby who is, in fact, merely shy and getting over a bad relationship.

It is Faith's efforts to change the direction of her life, which include some new, sexy clothes and a desire for a boyfriend, that make Monty look at his old friend in new ways. Even as Ruby agrees to go out on a date with him, it's Faith who's drawing his eyes. When they drive south of Perth to see a farm that's up for sale, they're mistaken as a couple and the light-hearted flirtation between them turns into something much more sensual and powerful. Things sour after they sleep together, as their fears of ruining their friendship do just that. With Faith immersed in preparing her big charity fundraising event, and Monty working hard towards achieving his dream of having his own farm, is there time in their lives to fix their friendship and face the fact that they love each other, before it's broken for good?

I have to begin by saying that I did not enjoy this nearly as much as other readers did. I will come to why in a bit. First, though, there's much to appreciate and enjoy in Johns' new novel, the first of a new trilogy set in Bunyip Bay.

This was my first chance to read a "rural romance" novel, and in general it was a positive one. I love the setting, though it was not so much described as conjured out of community relationships and the sense of shared history. It has that small town vibe, where everyone knows everyone, gossips and observes, and where people help each other and share in goodwill. It touches on the still-existent gender stereotyping that goes on in the country, with Faith relegated to paid housekeeper, but also speaks to the same problem in urban areas as well, especially among the more affluent: the "society ladies" whom Faith went to school with are all married to rich, high-powered men, have kids and do good deeds, but the fact that many of them hold their own jobs and have real lives is glossed over; Faith just doesn't see them that way. It is still "Mr Successful ... and his wife."

The charity that Faith chooses to support is one that raises and trains dogs as companions for children with autism. She chooses this organisation because she grew up not just with Monty but with his younger brother Will, who has autism (I was a bit startled to read that their mother, Jenni, believed that his autism was caused by infant vaccinations - this "theory" was started by a British researcher whose study was, earlier this year, found to be completely fabricated. The belief that there's a connection between autism and vaccinations has, sadly, stuck - thanks to silly Jenny McCarthy, who has since claimed her son is "cured". But the damage is done. I was disappointed to hear it repeated in this book, though, even as a descriptor of a character reflective of real people - see page 289). It is because of Will that their parents sold the farm and moved to Perth, where they could have better access to treatments and support for Will. What Faith is slow to realise is that Monty has always harboured a secret resentment towards his brother because of it. He feels, deep down, that he was robbed of his inheritance, that he is entitled to his own farm, and that Will's needs superseded his own, always. He loves his brother, and he knows how horrible it sounds which is why he's never shared his real feelings with anyone.

It is also because of Will that Monty has his own relationship problems. Faith learns, almost too late, that he doesn't want children - for fear they'll be born with autism and he has to sacrifice his own life and needs, all over again, for the sake of the child. It's a very human feeling, and I could completely relate to Monty and empathise with him, while also empathising with Faith and Monty's parents. Nothing's ever black-and-white or so straight-forward, and there's no real right-or-wrong either. I could understand Monty's feelings, but I could also understand Faith's anger with him about it, and agree that his perception had become a bit twisted, or skewed. Out of whack. It takes Will himself to wake Monty up to what the real sacrifice would be.

Really, there's nothing wrong with this book. As a romance, it's "lite", focussing more on the building of relationships than the consummating of them. Unfortunately, for this reader, it failed to build any real sense of chemistry between Faith and Monty - who always seemed too much like good friends to me, so that their sexual relationship felt almost like incest - and the few intimate scenes (which don't go further than kissing, touching and the removal of clothing) lacked fire. Overall, there was just no real spark here. No zing. I didn't feel it. I cared for the characters, I liked them, they felt real to me, and I quite liked the story as a story, but without any spark, any heat or chemistry, it was a bit of a slow read for me, and a bit directionless. It didn't start to get interesting until towards the end, but not in terms of chemistry.

Without chemistry, the story as a whole read a bit flat to me. And Faith and Monty, as I mentioned, were far too convincing as friends, that their physical relationship felt almost wrong to me. It also felt off in the sense that, without chemistry, it didn't seem like they were with the right person. Yes, flat. The writing is good (though I wish the setting had been better fleshed out; any mention of being on the coast was a surprise to me, and I could never really picture Bunyip Bay, its size or character or anything), the characters are good, the story is decent, it's all good and fine, but there's no excitement here. It just failed to connect with me in the ways that are so important to good romance - and this is wholly subjective. The chemistry between the book and me just wasn't there. Which is a real shame, but it doesn't put me off from trying more rural romances.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 4.13 2013 Outback Dreams (Bunyip Bay, #1)
author: Rachael Johns
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.13
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/11/26
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: australian-women-writers, romance, rural, 2013, aww2013, removed
review:
Faith Forrester and Daniel Montgomery have been best friends for ever. Their family's farms at Bunyip Bay in Western Australia were next to each other, and until the day Monty's parents sold theirs and moved to Perth, they saw each other often. Even after the move, Faith spent many a holiday with Monty's family and vice versa. Best mates, they've only ever seen each other in the platonic way.

But when Faith attends her old private girls' boarding school's alumnae dinner, she finds herself turning Monty into her boyfriend in order to not sound quite as boring and lacking as she feels amongst all the glamorous, rich and successful women at the event. Such is her newfound feeling of inadequacy - after all, she's twenty-eight and ever since her mum died eight years ago all she's done is kept house for her father and brother while they work the farm - that she finds herself signing up to the charity fundraising challenge. This is the year, she vows, that she'll do something with her life, make a difference, and start thinking about getting a real job since her dad won't let her help out on the farm in the ways she wants to.

Monty has a good old laugh when she tells him she pretended he was her boyfriend, but he's got his own eyes set on model-like Ruby who's recently moved back to Bunyip Bay and is staying with her parents while she helps them in their shop. Ruby seems like a princess and a fake to Faith, who thinks she needs to protect Monty from the other woman. Monty has worked over the years at any and every job he can find in the area in order to save enough money for a deposit on his own farm, and now that he's been approved by the bank Ruby is suddenly taking an interest in him. It brings out Faith's claws, and she's cold and unfriendly towards Ruby who is, in fact, merely shy and getting over a bad relationship.

It is Faith's efforts to change the direction of her life, which include some new, sexy clothes and a desire for a boyfriend, that make Monty look at his old friend in new ways. Even as Ruby agrees to go out on a date with him, it's Faith who's drawing his eyes. When they drive south of Perth to see a farm that's up for sale, they're mistaken as a couple and the light-hearted flirtation between them turns into something much more sensual and powerful. Things sour after they sleep together, as their fears of ruining their friendship do just that. With Faith immersed in preparing her big charity fundraising event, and Monty working hard towards achieving his dream of having his own farm, is there time in their lives to fix their friendship and face the fact that they love each other, before it's broken for good?

I have to begin by saying that I did not enjoy this nearly as much as other readers did. I will come to why in a bit. First, though, there's much to appreciate and enjoy in Johns' new novel, the first of a new trilogy set in Bunyip Bay.

This was my first chance to read a "rural romance" novel, and in general it was a positive one. I love the setting, though it was not so much described as conjured out of community relationships and the sense of shared history. It has that small town vibe, where everyone knows everyone, gossips and observes, and where people help each other and share in goodwill. It touches on the still-existent gender stereotyping that goes on in the country, with Faith relegated to paid housekeeper, but also speaks to the same problem in urban areas as well, especially among the more affluent: the "society ladies" whom Faith went to school with are all married to rich, high-powered men, have kids and do good deeds, but the fact that many of them hold their own jobs and have real lives is glossed over; Faith just doesn't see them that way. It is still "Mr Successful ... and his wife."

The charity that Faith chooses to support is one that raises and trains dogs as companions for children with autism. She chooses this organisation because she grew up not just with Monty but with his younger brother Will, who has autism (I was a bit startled to read that their mother, Jenni, believed that his autism was caused by infant vaccinations - this "theory" was started by a British researcher whose study was, earlier this year, found to be completely fabricated. The belief that there's a connection between autism and vaccinations has, sadly, stuck - thanks to silly Jenny McCarthy, who has since claimed her son is "cured". But the damage is done. I was disappointed to hear it repeated in this book, though, even as a descriptor of a character reflective of real people - see page 289). It is because of Will that their parents sold the farm and moved to Perth, where they could have better access to treatments and support for Will. What Faith is slow to realise is that Monty has always harboured a secret resentment towards his brother because of it. He feels, deep down, that he was robbed of his inheritance, that he is entitled to his own farm, and that Will's needs superseded his own, always. He loves his brother, and he knows how horrible it sounds which is why he's never shared his real feelings with anyone.

It is also because of Will that Monty has his own relationship problems. Faith learns, almost too late, that he doesn't want children - for fear they'll be born with autism and he has to sacrifice his own life and needs, all over again, for the sake of the child. It's a very human feeling, and I could completely relate to Monty and empathise with him, while also empathising with Faith and Monty's parents. Nothing's ever black-and-white or so straight-forward, and there's no real right-or-wrong either. I could understand Monty's feelings, but I could also understand Faith's anger with him about it, and agree that his perception had become a bit twisted, or skewed. Out of whack. It takes Will himself to wake Monty up to what the real sacrifice would be.

Really, there's nothing wrong with this book. As a romance, it's "lite", focussing more on the building of relationships than the consummating of them. Unfortunately, for this reader, it failed to build any real sense of chemistry between Faith and Monty - who always seemed too much like good friends to me, so that their sexual relationship felt almost like incest - and the few intimate scenes (which don't go further than kissing, touching and the removal of clothing) lacked fire. Overall, there was just no real spark here. No zing. I didn't feel it. I cared for the characters, I liked them, they felt real to me, and I quite liked the story as a story, but without any spark, any heat or chemistry, it was a bit of a slow read for me, and a bit directionless. It didn't start to get interesting until towards the end, but not in terms of chemistry.

Without chemistry, the story as a whole read a bit flat to me. And Faith and Monty, as I mentioned, were far too convincing as friends, that their physical relationship felt almost wrong to me. It also felt off in the sense that, without chemistry, it didn't seem like they were with the right person. Yes, flat. The writing is good (though I wish the setting had been better fleshed out; any mention of being on the coast was a surprise to me, and I could never really picture Bunyip Bay, its size or character or anything), the characters are good, the story is decent, it's all good and fine, but there's no excitement here. It just failed to connect with me in the ways that are so important to good romance - and this is wholly subjective. The chemistry between the book and me just wasn't there. Which is a real shame, but it doesn't put me off from trying more rural romances.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> <![CDATA[When the Silence Ends (Double Helix Case Files, #3)]]> 17164661
Seventeen-year old Dee wants nothing more than to help her twin brother, Dum, break free from the trauma in their childhood and speak again, but the only person who can help Dum is the alpha empath, Danyael Sabre, whom the U.S. government considers a terrorist and traitor.

The search for Danyael will lead Dee and Dum from the sheltered protection of the Mutant Affairs Council and into the violent, gang-controlled heart of Anacostia. Ensnared by Danyael’s complicated network of friends and enemies, Dee makes her stand in a political and social war that she is ill equipped to fight. What can one human, armed only with her wits and pepper spray, do against the super-powered mutants who dominate the Genetic Revolution?

America, nevertheless, is ripe for change. Exhausted by decades of belligerence between humans and their genetic derivatives, the clones, in vitros, and mutants, society is on the verge of falling apart or growing up. Which path will it choose, and can a mere human, her sassy attitude and smart mouth notwithstanding, light the way to a better future?

In her quest to help her brother become normal, Dee will learn what it means to be extraordinary. When the silence ends, the celebration of life, love, joy, and hope will inspire feet to dance and hearts to sing.]]> 144 Jade Kerrion 1481060430 Shannon 4
When the director of the Mutant Affairs Council, Seth Copper, tells Dee that the Council will no longer train Dum because of a connection Elysium had with Sakti, a pro-mutant terrorist group, Dee takes matters into her own hands. The only person left who can train Dum is the alpha empath Danyael Sabre, the man who stopped Sakti in their tracks, the man who is considered a threat and a danger to everyone. Danyeal is partly crippled and lives in Anacostia, an impoverished area full of gangs. He works for next to nothing at the free clinic there, and when Dee and Dum turn up one night, he's reluctant to help. But while Danyael may have been written off by the Council and sentenced to life imprisonment, he's a compassionate, caring man who carries the weight of deeds done on his tired shoulders, and he agrees to train Dum.

Wanting to gain some independence, Dee begins looking for work and an apartment, finding both in Anacostia. By day the twins work at a diner, and at night they work at Legends, a nightclub that suffers its fair share of gang fights on the premises. Along with Jessica, an alpha telepath and telekinetic mutant who's not quite fifteen, they settle into the night club and begin to have an effect on the patrons - or, rather, Dum does. As he takes on the job of DJ at the club, weaving his mutant empathic powers into the music he plays, things start to change in Anacostia. Gang members start dancing and hanging out together without fighting. Could this be the answer to solving America's gene conflict and bringing peace to the various factions, mutant, clone, in vitro and human alike? Nothing's ever that simple, of course, and Dee is up against some powerful enemies, but with the new friends she's made, she's no longer alone in her fight to survive and help Dum become normal.

This is a stand-alone spin-off novel to the adult sci-fi Double Helix trilogy, and is written for a Young Adult audience. While it is a spin-off and comes after the events of the previous books, and while there is quite a bit of background exposition provided, I did find myself with many questions and the sad realisation that I was missing some key things because I hadn't read the previous books. The world Kerrion has created is enticing but without the previous novels, there were too many gaps. I felt confused too often and a bit out of my depth.

Kerrion does a great job of filling the reader in, but for every detail revealed even more blank gaps in my knowledge surfaced. It might have been more helpful if it was farther removed from Danyael Sabre's story entirely, set in the same world and influenced by events, but with new characters so that it didn't feel like you'd missed the first half of the book. I won't fully understand everything until I read the previous three books, which are all about Danyael Sabre and Sakti (Sakti and Galahad and the politics behind cloning and in vitro was something I never quite understood). Set in a not-so-distant future America, humanity has divided itself along genetic lines, a new kind of bigotry. Some are born with mutant powers, and find themselves no longer considered human. Others are clones, and others are "in vitro" - two groups I'm hazy about. Along with the "pro-humanists", the resulting clash has devastating and violent results - yet even though it directly affected Dee and Dum's lives in horrific ways, Dee remains upbeat and optimistic and is able to avoid blind hate to see the individual - and to give them a chance to prove themselves.

Dee - whose real name is Suzanna Cortez - is a great heroine, a bit of a smart-mouth and very curious, and egalitarian too, which I love. She irritates the hell out of Dum, and vice versa, but they both keep each other going - the story of Dee and Dum's childhood is very tragic and very scary (their mother nicknamed them after Alice in Wonderland). She is at the lowest rung of society, being an orphan with no friends or family except for her mute brother, no money or connections, but she makes friends surprisingly easily (she doesn't have much of a filter at times) and perhaps because her zest for life and for thinking well of people is infectious, people do things for her - small things, but she finds she's not alone after all. Her goal - of going to university - seems unattainable, but when an idea comes her way she begins to work on it. Contrast her with her old friend Edward who likes to be the victim and have things handed to him, and you can really see how Dee shines. At times things were just a bit too convenient, and yet I also liked being surprised at how things turned out. The message isn't "Oh Dee is just lucky", the message is "How do you know you can't do it until you try?" As in, put yourself out there, ask people who you might assume wouldn't give you the time of day for their advice or assistance, and you just might be surprised at how far you can go. Because no one does stuff like this (starting a charitable foundation) on their own, it just isn't possible.

Her brother is more complex even though, on the surface, he seems simple and simple-minded, and the few times we get to see things from his perspective are enlightening. I would have liked to know him better but the glimpses we do get inside his head more than enough make up for his perpetual silence. There's a lot going on in his head and his empathic ability adds an interesting layer to him. He seems almost afraid of his power, or of its potential, which is probably a healthy attitude to have because the alternative is most likely to abuse your power. I loved the connection between empathy and music. The way music is used to describe emotions was quite beautiful and powerful and works so well.

Another character I came to enjoy was Jessica. It took me a while to get a feel for her - and to like her even - as she comes across as one of those pretty, popular, smart and possibly clingy high school girls who are a bit too good to be true (I wondered at first whether she could be trusted, even), but after a while this fourteen year old girl, who is one of the most powerful telepathic and telekinetic mutants on the planet, starts to get a bit more interesting, namely in her fairly unique perspective on things that adds to the mutant-human moral dilemma (though she remains a bit too good to be true).

"I need more ours. Lunch shift at the diner isn't going to swing it for me."
"I could have convinced the owner to give you dinner shifts as well." Jessica looked smug.
"At someone else's expense?"
Jessica shrugged.
Dee scowled. "Your sense of morality is fluid, isn't it?"
"I am a leaf in the wind," Jessica said with mock solemnity, but the wicked chuckle that escaped her lips ruined the effect. [p.32]


In fact, the novel touches on several issues that make it highly relevant to the present, and in a way you could even read it as an analogy for our own problems.

"That is the real world, Dee. You think mutants have it bad? The poor have it worse. They've always had it worse. There are no safety nets for them, not beyond the soup kitchens and the free clinic. The hospitals won't take them in. If Danyael's not strong enough to heal them, they die. It's not complicated."
How could those people endure a life with so few options? They were among the poor too, weren't they? Their joint income scarcely covered their expenses, and Dum was a mutant. What kind of odds would he have in a world that tolerated neither mutants nor the indigent? What were their odds of breaking free from that world? [p.43]


"Do you want your children and grandchildren to live through the same madness, the same chaos? Yesterday, a pro-humanist group killed an in vitro in Dallas, and a mob of clones killed a pro-humanist in New York. Not a day goes by without someone dying just because someone else doesn't like his genes. The rest of the countries in the civilized world are probably laughing their heads off at how this bastion of freedom and democracy can't seem to find its way out of the genetic paper bag. I'm human, and my brother is a mutant. I want us - both of us - to have a future in this country. It's our country. We shouldn't have to pay the price just because your generation can't get its act together." [p.77]


I never had the sense that the characters who spoke this way were in the habit of proselytising - I picked a couple of quotes out of a bare handful that could have worked right now - but that they had a strong sense of passion and conviction that came out in moments of stress. The novel touches on a lot of hard-hitting issues around the topics of ethics and morality as well as a new black-and-white division in America along the lines of genetics and what it means to be a "real" human, but the story of Dee and Dum never gets drowned in these issues. It's more that Dee and Dum's story is inseparable from them.

While there's still a lot of mystery around Danyael for me because I haven't read the previous books, we see enough of him to form a pretty good idea of the kind of person he is and what he suffers. I don't think the excitement and plot developments of the previous books would be ruined for me, having read this, but I would at least know some details of what was to come that would spoil some parts.

When the Silence Ends starts off fairly slowly and can be a bit confusing if this is your first introduction to the series, as it was for me. While I found some plot developments to be too convenient and some characters to be a bit too wonderful, I liked the surprising turn of the plot - I mean, I had no idea what direction it was going to take but I vaguely thought it would be more like urban fantasy in that regard, and was pleased when it wasn't anything like that. I would love to know more about the science behind this world, but as a novel about social justice and equality Dee and Dum's story was the perfect vehicle. There are still some open plot lines - not open as in things are left hanging, but open as in the author could easily write more if she wanted to continue things for these characters.

Overall, a fun and at times exciting story about interesting characters in a scary, easily imagined sci-fi version of America; a story that explores pertinent issues around social justice and equality and what it means to be human.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.]]> 4.23 2012 When the Silence Ends (Double Helix Case Files, #3)
author: Jade Kerrion
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.23
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/03/12
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: 2013, sci-fi, ya, self-published, removed
review:
Seventeen year old Dee and her twin brother Dum, who hasn't spoken a word since a tragedy when they were five, are under the protection of the Mutant Affairs Council after their home at Elysium, a self-sustaining community, was destroyed. Dee's life revolves around helping and looking out for Dum, who spends his time listening to the music on his iPod. Dee is human but Dum is a mutant with untrained empath powers, and the training that he is receiving at the Council headquarters in Washington DC just isn't working.

When the director of the Mutant Affairs Council, Seth Copper, tells Dee that the Council will no longer train Dum because of a connection Elysium had with Sakti, a pro-mutant terrorist group, Dee takes matters into her own hands. The only person left who can train Dum is the alpha empath Danyael Sabre, the man who stopped Sakti in their tracks, the man who is considered a threat and a danger to everyone. Danyeal is partly crippled and lives in Anacostia, an impoverished area full of gangs. He works for next to nothing at the free clinic there, and when Dee and Dum turn up one night, he's reluctant to help. But while Danyael may have been written off by the Council and sentenced to life imprisonment, he's a compassionate, caring man who carries the weight of deeds done on his tired shoulders, and he agrees to train Dum.

Wanting to gain some independence, Dee begins looking for work and an apartment, finding both in Anacostia. By day the twins work at a diner, and at night they work at Legends, a nightclub that suffers its fair share of gang fights on the premises. Along with Jessica, an alpha telepath and telekinetic mutant who's not quite fifteen, they settle into the night club and begin to have an effect on the patrons - or, rather, Dum does. As he takes on the job of DJ at the club, weaving his mutant empathic powers into the music he plays, things start to change in Anacostia. Gang members start dancing and hanging out together without fighting. Could this be the answer to solving America's gene conflict and bringing peace to the various factions, mutant, clone, in vitro and human alike? Nothing's ever that simple, of course, and Dee is up against some powerful enemies, but with the new friends she's made, she's no longer alone in her fight to survive and help Dum become normal.

This is a stand-alone spin-off novel to the adult sci-fi Double Helix trilogy, and is written for a Young Adult audience. While it is a spin-off and comes after the events of the previous books, and while there is quite a bit of background exposition provided, I did find myself with many questions and the sad realisation that I was missing some key things because I hadn't read the previous books. The world Kerrion has created is enticing but without the previous novels, there were too many gaps. I felt confused too often and a bit out of my depth.

Kerrion does a great job of filling the reader in, but for every detail revealed even more blank gaps in my knowledge surfaced. It might have been more helpful if it was farther removed from Danyael Sabre's story entirely, set in the same world and influenced by events, but with new characters so that it didn't feel like you'd missed the first half of the book. I won't fully understand everything until I read the previous three books, which are all about Danyael Sabre and Sakti (Sakti and Galahad and the politics behind cloning and in vitro was something I never quite understood). Set in a not-so-distant future America, humanity has divided itself along genetic lines, a new kind of bigotry. Some are born with mutant powers, and find themselves no longer considered human. Others are clones, and others are "in vitro" - two groups I'm hazy about. Along with the "pro-humanists", the resulting clash has devastating and violent results - yet even though it directly affected Dee and Dum's lives in horrific ways, Dee remains upbeat and optimistic and is able to avoid blind hate to see the individual - and to give them a chance to prove themselves.

Dee - whose real name is Suzanna Cortez - is a great heroine, a bit of a smart-mouth and very curious, and egalitarian too, which I love. She irritates the hell out of Dum, and vice versa, but they both keep each other going - the story of Dee and Dum's childhood is very tragic and very scary (their mother nicknamed them after Alice in Wonderland). She is at the lowest rung of society, being an orphan with no friends or family except for her mute brother, no money or connections, but she makes friends surprisingly easily (she doesn't have much of a filter at times) and perhaps because her zest for life and for thinking well of people is infectious, people do things for her - small things, but she finds she's not alone after all. Her goal - of going to university - seems unattainable, but when an idea comes her way she begins to work on it. Contrast her with her old friend Edward who likes to be the victim and have things handed to him, and you can really see how Dee shines. At times things were just a bit too convenient, and yet I also liked being surprised at how things turned out. The message isn't "Oh Dee is just lucky", the message is "How do you know you can't do it until you try?" As in, put yourself out there, ask people who you might assume wouldn't give you the time of day for their advice or assistance, and you just might be surprised at how far you can go. Because no one does stuff like this (starting a charitable foundation) on their own, it just isn't possible.

Her brother is more complex even though, on the surface, he seems simple and simple-minded, and the few times we get to see things from his perspective are enlightening. I would have liked to know him better but the glimpses we do get inside his head more than enough make up for his perpetual silence. There's a lot going on in his head and his empathic ability adds an interesting layer to him. He seems almost afraid of his power, or of its potential, which is probably a healthy attitude to have because the alternative is most likely to abuse your power. I loved the connection between empathy and music. The way music is used to describe emotions was quite beautiful and powerful and works so well.

Another character I came to enjoy was Jessica. It took me a while to get a feel for her - and to like her even - as she comes across as one of those pretty, popular, smart and possibly clingy high school girls who are a bit too good to be true (I wondered at first whether she could be trusted, even), but after a while this fourteen year old girl, who is one of the most powerful telepathic and telekinetic mutants on the planet, starts to get a bit more interesting, namely in her fairly unique perspective on things that adds to the mutant-human moral dilemma (though she remains a bit too good to be true).

"I need more ours. Lunch shift at the diner isn't going to swing it for me."
"I could have convinced the owner to give you dinner shifts as well." Jessica looked smug.
"At someone else's expense?"
Jessica shrugged.
Dee scowled. "Your sense of morality is fluid, isn't it?"
"I am a leaf in the wind," Jessica said with mock solemnity, but the wicked chuckle that escaped her lips ruined the effect. [p.32]


In fact, the novel touches on several issues that make it highly relevant to the present, and in a way you could even read it as an analogy for our own problems.

"That is the real world, Dee. You think mutants have it bad? The poor have it worse. They've always had it worse. There are no safety nets for them, not beyond the soup kitchens and the free clinic. The hospitals won't take them in. If Danyael's not strong enough to heal them, they die. It's not complicated."
How could those people endure a life with so few options? They were among the poor too, weren't they? Their joint income scarcely covered their expenses, and Dum was a mutant. What kind of odds would he have in a world that tolerated neither mutants nor the indigent? What were their odds of breaking free from that world? [p.43]


"Do you want your children and grandchildren to live through the same madness, the same chaos? Yesterday, a pro-humanist group killed an in vitro in Dallas, and a mob of clones killed a pro-humanist in New York. Not a day goes by without someone dying just because someone else doesn't like his genes. The rest of the countries in the civilized world are probably laughing their heads off at how this bastion of freedom and democracy can't seem to find its way out of the genetic paper bag. I'm human, and my brother is a mutant. I want us - both of us - to have a future in this country. It's our country. We shouldn't have to pay the price just because your generation can't get its act together." [p.77]


I never had the sense that the characters who spoke this way were in the habit of proselytising - I picked a couple of quotes out of a bare handful that could have worked right now - but that they had a strong sense of passion and conviction that came out in moments of stress. The novel touches on a lot of hard-hitting issues around the topics of ethics and morality as well as a new black-and-white division in America along the lines of genetics and what it means to be a "real" human, but the story of Dee and Dum never gets drowned in these issues. It's more that Dee and Dum's story is inseparable from them.

While there's still a lot of mystery around Danyael for me because I haven't read the previous books, we see enough of him to form a pretty good idea of the kind of person he is and what he suffers. I don't think the excitement and plot developments of the previous books would be ruined for me, having read this, but I would at least know some details of what was to come that would spoil some parts.

When the Silence Ends starts off fairly slowly and can be a bit confusing if this is your first introduction to the series, as it was for me. While I found some plot developments to be too convenient and some characters to be a bit too wonderful, I liked the surprising turn of the plot - I mean, I had no idea what direction it was going to take but I vaguely thought it would be more like urban fantasy in that regard, and was pleased when it wasn't anything like that. I would love to know more about the science behind this world, but as a novel about social justice and equality Dee and Dum's story was the perfect vehicle. There are still some open plot lines - not open as in things are left hanging, but open as in the author could easily write more if she wanted to continue things for these characters.

Overall, a fun and at times exciting story about interesting characters in a scary, easily imagined sci-fi version of America; a story that explores pertinent issues around social justice and equality and what it means to be human.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.
]]> <![CDATA[Dr. Chandler's Sleeping Beauty/Her Christmas Eve Diamond]]> 16040025 Her Christmas Eve Diamond Nurse Cassidy Rae is a stickler for rules, but even she revels in the magic of Christmas! This year, however, new registrar Brad Donovan's surfer-boy looks and cocky charms are severely testing her goodwill to all men. But in the festive season miracles can happen, and Brad's about to give Cassidy a Yuletide to remember...
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Show Less]]> 384 Melanie Milburne 0263892077 Shannon 2 Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty , Dr Katherine "Kitty" Cargill has come to Sydney for a three month appointment in the emergency department to give herself time to recover from her fiance's betrayal with her best friend and the end of a relationship that dates back to childhood. Her first meeting with Dr Jack Chandler, the head of the department, doesn't go well and the two seem to instantly dislike each other. But they're also drawn to each other, attracted by looks and the thrill of going at each other - and they're neighbours, living in the same townhouse complex near Bondi Beach, and keep running into each other outside of work too.

But Jack's never hidden the fact that he's not interested in a relationship, preferring one-night-stands and short flings, and Kitty's still bitter and resentful about her best friend Sophie sleeping with her boyfriend, Charles - and to top it off, Sophie's asked her to be her maid of honour at their wedding. They both have personal obstacles to overcome; can they take open their eyes to see what's right in front of them before it's too late?

In Her Christmas Eve Diamond , Cassidy Rae returns to her post as the formidable dragon lady in charge of the nurses in her ward at a hospital in Glasgow after seeing her gran settled into a care home, to find three new doctors in the ward - and one of them, registrar Brad Donovan, takes it upon himself to charm the nurse into friendship. As Christmas - Cassidy's favourite time of year - nears, her relationship with Brad only strengthens, until he tells her about his little girl, a daughter he had with another doctor back in Sydney who he's been trying to find ever since the mother disappeared with her, possibly to America.

Knowing that Brad isn't going to stick around once he finds his daughter, Cassidy despairs - after all, she has no intention of leaving Scotland, no interest in living anywhere else. Can they find a middle ground, a way to stay together without compromising the things they love most in the world?

I've never read a Medical Romance before, and it not something I ever saw myself reading either. I don't remember where I came across this, possibly on an e-newsletter late last year, and at the time it appealed. I thought both stories were going to be set in Australia, which was one reason why I wanted to read it, another being a possible Christmas theme (I got this in December last year). The first story is an Australian one, while the second, even though it has an Australian character, is British.

I didn't mind the medical setting, even though some of the details - people's job titles for example - were over my head; I'm pretty well practiced at simply ignoring details I don't understand. As Mills & Boon stories, I was surprised at how little graphic content they contained - they were almost (but not quite) PG rather than MA. The sex was disappointing mostly in how it was described rather than quantity - it was quite dull. The only thing that actually stood out to me is how, in the first story, he puts on a condom before she gives him fellatio. Now, the first thing that makes me think is how disgusting that would be, as the woman, and secondly: Jesus, just how many STDs does he have that he needs a condom for a blowjob?! Let me discuss these stories separately now, as they're quite different.

Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty has nothing to do with the fairy tale, just in case you were wondering. If Kitty is a sleeping beauty, it metaphorical only: she needs to be woken up, to see things differently. But so too does Jake Chandler. He's your classic Mills & Boon hero: a womaniser - a slut, if you will, though I don't like to give that word any credit - and arrogant to boot. He's a doctor, not a millionaire, but he has the attitude of one. I didn't find him to be an attractive character which was part of my problem in connecting to this story - the other being Kitty herself, who didn't strike me as very bright and I couldn't see what the attraction was except for her cleavage. How am I supposed to believe people like Jack and Kitty fall in love with each other in just a few months when, rather than give me any reason to believe in it, you've gone out of your way to make them quite unloveable? I wasn't able to buy into it, it was just too forced and contrived.

Her Christmas Eve Diamond was more interesting and a bit different, and I liked Cassidy a lot more than I liked Kitty. More importantly, Brad was very likeable, very honourable, a real dear in fact. Only problem was that, funnily enough, he lost his sex appeal along the way. The two are not mutually exclusive, but there wasn't enough focus on the romance/sex side of the story, the relationship/family drama/character side took precedence instead. I normally wouldn't mind, but for as strong as Cassidy and Brad's friendship was, they lacked chemistry. I mostly just empathised with Brad losing his daughter like that - that would be so horrible, his ex sounds like a right cow, it's not like he was abusive or anything but she acts like he's a bad man. Though he's a bit of an idiot for not setting up formal custody rights at the very beginning. The romance is a bit of a side issue, the focus being more on Brad finding his daughter and Cassidy learning not to be afraid of living in other places.

Of the two, Her Christmas Eve Diamond was the one I liked more, it had atmosphere and a good sense of setting - it's winter and the hospital is freezing, and most of their patients are old people who can't afford to turn the heater on and nearly die of hypothermia - and focused on developing the characters. But neither of the stories offered the kind of emotional intensity or sexual chemistry - let alone tension - that I appreciate in romance fiction, and that made this a disappointing read.]]> 4.10 2012 Dr. Chandler's Sleeping Beauty/Her Christmas Eve Diamond
author: Melanie Milburne
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.10
book published: 2012
rating: 2
read at: 2013/03/10
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: romance, 2013, anthology, aww2013, australian-women-writers, removed
review:
In Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty , Dr Katherine "Kitty" Cargill has come to Sydney for a three month appointment in the emergency department to give herself time to recover from her fiance's betrayal with her best friend and the end of a relationship that dates back to childhood. Her first meeting with Dr Jack Chandler, the head of the department, doesn't go well and the two seem to instantly dislike each other. But they're also drawn to each other, attracted by looks and the thrill of going at each other - and they're neighbours, living in the same townhouse complex near Bondi Beach, and keep running into each other outside of work too.

But Jack's never hidden the fact that he's not interested in a relationship, preferring one-night-stands and short flings, and Kitty's still bitter and resentful about her best friend Sophie sleeping with her boyfriend, Charles - and to top it off, Sophie's asked her to be her maid of honour at their wedding. They both have personal obstacles to overcome; can they take open their eyes to see what's right in front of them before it's too late?

In Her Christmas Eve Diamond , Cassidy Rae returns to her post as the formidable dragon lady in charge of the nurses in her ward at a hospital in Glasgow after seeing her gran settled into a care home, to find three new doctors in the ward - and one of them, registrar Brad Donovan, takes it upon himself to charm the nurse into friendship. As Christmas - Cassidy's favourite time of year - nears, her relationship with Brad only strengthens, until he tells her about his little girl, a daughter he had with another doctor back in Sydney who he's been trying to find ever since the mother disappeared with her, possibly to America.

Knowing that Brad isn't going to stick around once he finds his daughter, Cassidy despairs - after all, she has no intention of leaving Scotland, no interest in living anywhere else. Can they find a middle ground, a way to stay together without compromising the things they love most in the world?

I've never read a Medical Romance before, and it not something I ever saw myself reading either. I don't remember where I came across this, possibly on an e-newsletter late last year, and at the time it appealed. I thought both stories were going to be set in Australia, which was one reason why I wanted to read it, another being a possible Christmas theme (I got this in December last year). The first story is an Australian one, while the second, even though it has an Australian character, is British.

I didn't mind the medical setting, even though some of the details - people's job titles for example - were over my head; I'm pretty well practiced at simply ignoring details I don't understand. As Mills & Boon stories, I was surprised at how little graphic content they contained - they were almost (but not quite) PG rather than MA. The sex was disappointing mostly in how it was described rather than quantity - it was quite dull. The only thing that actually stood out to me is how, in the first story, he puts on a condom before she gives him fellatio. Now, the first thing that makes me think is how disgusting that would be, as the woman, and secondly: Jesus, just how many STDs does he have that he needs a condom for a blowjob?! Let me discuss these stories separately now, as they're quite different.

Dr Chandler's Sleeping Beauty has nothing to do with the fairy tale, just in case you were wondering. If Kitty is a sleeping beauty, it metaphorical only: she needs to be woken up, to see things differently. But so too does Jake Chandler. He's your classic Mills & Boon hero: a womaniser - a slut, if you will, though I don't like to give that word any credit - and arrogant to boot. He's a doctor, not a millionaire, but he has the attitude of one. I didn't find him to be an attractive character which was part of my problem in connecting to this story - the other being Kitty herself, who didn't strike me as very bright and I couldn't see what the attraction was except for her cleavage. How am I supposed to believe people like Jack and Kitty fall in love with each other in just a few months when, rather than give me any reason to believe in it, you've gone out of your way to make them quite unloveable? I wasn't able to buy into it, it was just too forced and contrived.

Her Christmas Eve Diamond was more interesting and a bit different, and I liked Cassidy a lot more than I liked Kitty. More importantly, Brad was very likeable, very honourable, a real dear in fact. Only problem was that, funnily enough, he lost his sex appeal along the way. The two are not mutually exclusive, but there wasn't enough focus on the romance/sex side of the story, the relationship/family drama/character side took precedence instead. I normally wouldn't mind, but for as strong as Cassidy and Brad's friendship was, they lacked chemistry. I mostly just empathised with Brad losing his daughter like that - that would be so horrible, his ex sounds like a right cow, it's not like he was abusive or anything but she acts like he's a bad man. Though he's a bit of an idiot for not setting up formal custody rights at the very beginning. The romance is a bit of a side issue, the focus being more on Brad finding his daughter and Cassidy learning not to be afraid of living in other places.

Of the two, Her Christmas Eve Diamond was the one I liked more, it had atmosphere and a good sense of setting - it's winter and the hospital is freezing, and most of their patients are old people who can't afford to turn the heater on and nearly die of hypothermia - and focused on developing the characters. But neither of the stories offered the kind of emotional intensity or sexual chemistry - let alone tension - that I appreciate in romance fiction, and that made this a disappointing read.
]]> <![CDATA[Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)]]> 10874177 It's one thing to learn to curtsy properly. It's quite another to learn to curtsy and throw a knife at the same time. Welcome to Finishing School.

Fourteen-year-old Sophronia is a great trial to her poor mother. Sophronia is more interested in dismantling clocks and climbing trees than proper manners--and the family can only hope that company never sees her atrocious curtsy. Mrs. Temminnick is desperate for her daughter to become a proper lady. So she enrolls Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.

But Sophronia soon realizes the school is not quite what her mother might have hoped. At Mademoiselle Geraldine's, young ladies learn to finish...everything. Certainly, they learn the fine arts of dance, dress, and etiquette, but they also learn to deal out death, diversion, and espionage--in the politest possible ways, of course. Sophronia and her friends are in for a rousing first year's education.]]> 307 Gail Carriger 031619008X Shannon 4
It all happens rather fast, and within an hour of learning about the school and her mother's plans, Sophronia finds herself in a carriage with Mademoiselle and two other children: Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott and her brother, Pillover. Their parents have great hopes of them being evil; Pillover is going to Bunson and Lacroix's Boys' Polytechnique, the sibling school, to learn how to be bad, but looking at Dimity's pretty face and fancy clothes, as well as her friendly, rather naive manner, it's hard to think of her as at all bad. Sophronia is starting to wonder just who these people were and what was going on, when their carriage is accosted by flywaymen and Mademoiselle Geraldine is revealed to be an older student in disguise, sent on a mission not only to collect the three new students but also a prototype, in order to graduate.

The prototype is not in the carriage and the girl masquerading as their headmistress, Monique, refuses to tell anyone where it is. She also takes the credit for their escape from the flywaymen. Once at the school - three huge, connected dirigibles perpetually floating through the mist - Sophronia quickly comes to realise that this is no simple school of etiquette: the girls here are being trained to spy and kill. She just as quickly comes to love it.

With the help of a nine year old inventor called Genevieve, a boy from the boiler room called Soap, and her friend Dimity, Sophronia is determined to figure out where Monique hid the prototype - something that the Picklemen are after and have already attacked the ship for - and who she's planning to sell it to. Little does she realise just how close to home the answers really are.

Set in 1851, approximately twenty or so years earlier than the Parasol Protectorate series, Carriger has set her new YA series in the same world as Alexia Tarabotti's. Werewolves and vampires are a part of society, as are mechanicals - coal-fired servant bots and handy gadgets. The link between the two series is Genevieve, the inventor, who is a youngish woman in the Parasol Protectorate. The key difference, though, is in the writing: while I struggle a bit with the slightly forced, "upper crust" style of speaking and describing used in the earlier series, this book is written for Young Adults, and is very smooth and fast-paced in comparison.

Carriger has all her much-loved trademarks out: a predilection for tea, good manners and parasols; a wry, often ironic sense of humour; and a flamboyant imagination. I'm not supposed to quote from an ARC but I just have to include this snippet (and I can't see it being changed or scrapped for any reason!):

"I'm sorry you're going to miss the theatricals."
"In Swiffle-on-Exe? It could be worse."
"It is worse: all the boys [from Bunson's] will be attending. [...] Some of the girls even keep score. They use what we learn to make as many boys as possible fall in love with them."
[...] "Isn't Bunson's training evil geniuses?"
"Yes, mostly."
"Well, is that wise? Having a mess of seedling evil geniuses falling in love with you willy-nilly? What if they feel spurned?"
"Ah, but in the interim, think of the lovely gifts they can make you. Monique bragged that one of her boys made her silver and wood hair sticks as anti-supernatural weapons. With amethyst inlay. And another made her an exploding wicker chicken."
"Goodness, what's that for?"
Dimity pursed her lips. "Who doesn't want an exploding wicker chicken?" [pp.162-3]


The plot is simple enough but the story keeps itself busy by introducing Sophronia to a whole new world - and the readers along with her. It's not necessary to have read the Parasol Protectorate in order to understand the world here, though if you have you'll pick up on little inter-connecting characters and details and understand what's going on a lot more than Sophronia does. Carriger keeps the tone light and even slightly frivolous throughout the story, lending it a cartoon-like quality that serves it well. This isn't a serious story, though it does touch on class snobbery and hints to the darker side of supernatural-human politics.

Mostly I enjoyed the concept of the espionage school disguised as a finishing school, a fact that the real Mademoiselle Geraldine is completely ignorant of. Sophronia is intelligent, adventurous, strong and courageous and makes for a great heroine and a solid role model. There's no real romance going on here - she is only fourteen after all - though there is the start of something with her friendship with Soap, a black boy whose real name is Phineas. I'm still curious about this whole other side to Victorian England that Carriger has created, the idea that there are people - upper class gentry, no less - who are part of a secret evil society and want their children to follow in their evil footsteps. Not sure where that's going or what that looks like; Dimity certainly didn't have an evil bone in her body, and it makes me wonder what her parents are like - and what they actually do.

This is such a fun read, though I struggled with the first couple of chapters which had some awkward turns-of-phrase that had me confused for a bit, but when in the mood for a light-hearted, silly and imaginative adventure story you can't go wrong with Etiquette & Espionage.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via the Ontario Blog Squad.
]]> 3.82 2013 Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)
author: Gail Carriger
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.82
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/03
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, historical-fiction, steampunk, urban-fantasy, vampires, shape-shifters, 2013, cover-love, removed
review:
Only fourteen years old, Sophronia Temminnick is well established as the troublesome child in her family. She likes to take the mechanicals apart to see how they work, and her adventurous spirit and complete lack of interest in the latest fashions or appearances in general are a trial for her mother in particular. Desperate to get her daughter on the right track and "cure" her of her failings, her mother enrols Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.

It all happens rather fast, and within an hour of learning about the school and her mother's plans, Sophronia finds herself in a carriage with Mademoiselle and two other children: Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott and her brother, Pillover. Their parents have great hopes of them being evil; Pillover is going to Bunson and Lacroix's Boys' Polytechnique, the sibling school, to learn how to be bad, but looking at Dimity's pretty face and fancy clothes, as well as her friendly, rather naive manner, it's hard to think of her as at all bad. Sophronia is starting to wonder just who these people were and what was going on, when their carriage is accosted by flywaymen and Mademoiselle Geraldine is revealed to be an older student in disguise, sent on a mission not only to collect the three new students but also a prototype, in order to graduate.

The prototype is not in the carriage and the girl masquerading as their headmistress, Monique, refuses to tell anyone where it is. She also takes the credit for their escape from the flywaymen. Once at the school - three huge, connected dirigibles perpetually floating through the mist - Sophronia quickly comes to realise that this is no simple school of etiquette: the girls here are being trained to spy and kill. She just as quickly comes to love it.

With the help of a nine year old inventor called Genevieve, a boy from the boiler room called Soap, and her friend Dimity, Sophronia is determined to figure out where Monique hid the prototype - something that the Picklemen are after and have already attacked the ship for - and who she's planning to sell it to. Little does she realise just how close to home the answers really are.

Set in 1851, approximately twenty or so years earlier than the Parasol Protectorate series, Carriger has set her new YA series in the same world as Alexia Tarabotti's. Werewolves and vampires are a part of society, as are mechanicals - coal-fired servant bots and handy gadgets. The link between the two series is Genevieve, the inventor, who is a youngish woman in the Parasol Protectorate. The key difference, though, is in the writing: while I struggle a bit with the slightly forced, "upper crust" style of speaking and describing used in the earlier series, this book is written for Young Adults, and is very smooth and fast-paced in comparison.

Carriger has all her much-loved trademarks out: a predilection for tea, good manners and parasols; a wry, often ironic sense of humour; and a flamboyant imagination. I'm not supposed to quote from an ARC but I just have to include this snippet (and I can't see it being changed or scrapped for any reason!):

"I'm sorry you're going to miss the theatricals."
"In Swiffle-on-Exe? It could be worse."
"It is worse: all the boys [from Bunson's] will be attending. [...] Some of the girls even keep score. They use what we learn to make as many boys as possible fall in love with them."
[...] "Isn't Bunson's training evil geniuses?"
"Yes, mostly."
"Well, is that wise? Having a mess of seedling evil geniuses falling in love with you willy-nilly? What if they feel spurned?"
"Ah, but in the interim, think of the lovely gifts they can make you. Monique bragged that one of her boys made her silver and wood hair sticks as anti-supernatural weapons. With amethyst inlay. And another made her an exploding wicker chicken."
"Goodness, what's that for?"
Dimity pursed her lips. "Who doesn't want an exploding wicker chicken?" [pp.162-3]


The plot is simple enough but the story keeps itself busy by introducing Sophronia to a whole new world - and the readers along with her. It's not necessary to have read the Parasol Protectorate in order to understand the world here, though if you have you'll pick up on little inter-connecting characters and details and understand what's going on a lot more than Sophronia does. Carriger keeps the tone light and even slightly frivolous throughout the story, lending it a cartoon-like quality that serves it well. This isn't a serious story, though it does touch on class snobbery and hints to the darker side of supernatural-human politics.

Mostly I enjoyed the concept of the espionage school disguised as a finishing school, a fact that the real Mademoiselle Geraldine is completely ignorant of. Sophronia is intelligent, adventurous, strong and courageous and makes for a great heroine and a solid role model. There's no real romance going on here - she is only fourteen after all - though there is the start of something with her friendship with Soap, a black boy whose real name is Phineas. I'm still curious about this whole other side to Victorian England that Carriger has created, the idea that there are people - upper class gentry, no less - who are part of a secret evil society and want their children to follow in their evil footsteps. Not sure where that's going or what that looks like; Dimity certainly didn't have an evil bone in her body, and it makes me wonder what her parents are like - and what they actually do.

This is such a fun read, though I struggled with the first couple of chapters which had some awkward turns-of-phrase that had me confused for a bit, but when in the mood for a light-hearted, silly and imaginative adventure story you can't go wrong with Etiquette & Espionage.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via the Ontario Blog Squad.

]]> <![CDATA[This Is What Happy Looks Like (This is What Happy Looks Like, #1)]]> 15790873
When teenage movie star Graham Larkin accidentally sends small town girl Ellie O'Neill an email about his pet pig, the two seventeen-year-olds strike up a witty and unforgettable correspondence, discussing everything under the sun, except for their names or backgrounds.

Then Graham finds out that Ellie's Maine hometown is the perfect location for his latest film, and he decides to take their relationship from online to in-person. But can a star as famous as Graham really start a relationship with an ordinary girl like Ellie? And why does Ellie want to avoid the media's spotlight at all costs?]]> 404 Jennifer E. Smith 0316212822 Shannon 3
What Ellie doesn't realise is that she already knows Graham Larkin, the seventeen-year-old movie star made famous from his lead role in a trilogy of movies about a magician. She's been emailing him since March, when he accidentally sent her an email asking her to walk his pet pig, Wilbur. She replied to tell him he'd got the wrong person, and a flirty, friendly ongoing conversation began. While neither told the other their name, they shared many other details about their lives, details that were both vague and deeply personal all at once.

From these emails, Graham pieced together where exactly Ellie lived, and that she worked at an ice cream parlour. When the original location for the film fell through, Graham managed to convince the director to try Henley, Maine instead. Graham wants to meet Ellie. She doesn't know who he is or what his life is really like, and because of that he's been able to talk to her as if he were a regular teenager, not a celebrity.

When Ellie meets Graham in the flesh, she's torn. A part of her misses the emails they shared, the mystery of it all. Part of her wants to know him better, spend more time with him. And a part of her - the reasonable, clear-headed part - knows just how important it is for her to stay away from cameras, which makes dating Graham Larkin - who is always stalked by paparazzi - an impossibility. It's not just for her, but for her mother as well, who moved them up here when Ellie was five in order to escape the press and the stress of being watched, but also to protect Ellie's father. And it's this kind of secret that comes between Ellie and Graham now, a secret that seems impossible to overcome.

I greatly enjoyed Smith's previous novel, , which was fast- and smoothly-paced, tightly written, poignant and thoughtful. I was excited to get her new book, and after reading a very heavy Israeli novel, a book with a title like this seemed just the thing for me. And while I still greatly respect and admire Smith's writing, the maturity of her characters and their ability to grow, and her avoidance of the usual clichés, I did find that this novel was missing something, for me. Some spark of magic, or chemistry, or oomph. I'm not sure what exactly, only that I was left feeling a bit disappointed.

There is much to enjoy here, nevertheless. The emails at the start are fun to read, and both Ellie and Graham are likeable and sympathetic characters who are learning independence and how to balance their conflicting wants. Graham, after the surprise of landing his first major acting role when he'd just been goofing around in the school play, finds himself really enjoying the job of acting, and wants to do it for as long as he's interested in it, even though his parents, both ordinary, unadventurous middle class teachers, want him to go to university instead. He lives with his pet pig, Wilbur, alone in a big house in Los Angeles, and finds himself isolated by his celebrity status. His parents seem uncomfortable in his world, and treat him like visiting royalty - a stranger, in other words - when he goes home to see them, so he's started avoiding them. Graham is young, and new to it all, and has a fan base of screaming teenage girls, so he's got a long road ahead of him in terms of balancing a career in the film industry with having any sense of normalcy in his personal life.

Ellie is a strong heroine, intelligent and thoughtful but her moments of great maturity are balanced by her moments of adolescent drama - which aren't often but they do happen. Though I must add that I found her a bit, well, cold. She was just so very confident and "together". I found it hard to feel much interest, or sympathy, for her family secret, and felt a bit resentful on her behalf about it all. It also seemed a bit, well, tacky, and rather irrelevant. I would have quite happily cut that part out completely. But Ellie knows how to hold her own, even if she is rather serious about everything. (I liked Ellie, but I think I liked Graham more; aside from anything else, he just seemed a bit more human than she did.)

I don't know how realistic the premise of their original meeting is, or whether we should be romanticising it. Too many girls get trapped or taken advantage of or worse, through anonymous online communication of various kinds. Granted, Ellie is clearly too smart to fall for an online stalker or creepy pervert masquerading as someone younger, but still, she never really had any doubts about continuing to communicate with some unknown person half a country away. And true, they never discussed meeting in person, never went from slightly flirty to anything more overt, never wanted to exchange photos. But still, it's one area where I feel a great deal of caution around, because the mystery of it all makes it very tantalising to the teenage mind.

This is a lot longer than Smith's previous novel, and I found it a bit slow. It works in the sense that you get the chance to get to know the characters and understand them, but there just wasn't a whole lot else going on. I'm also unconvinced as to Ellie and Graham's chemistry. I just didn't really feel it. Perhaps because Ellie was so sensible and oh so mature, and perhaps because, like Ellie, it was a bit anticlimactic to meet someone in the flesh whom you've created as a certain person in your head while texting back and forth, all this time. As I mentioned, it's the mystery - the romance of the mystery - that appeals, but once the mystery is solved, well, then it's more of a struggle to remain interested. (The mystery isn't much of one to the reader, but you still pick up on their feelings about it.)

They always felt like real people, Ellie and Graham (though not, perhaps, as flawed as real people), and their friendship and budding romance was realistic - not rushed, not instant, but cautious and tender and a bit anxious too, lit with possibilities, not certainties - and the romance was not really the point of the story: growing up and figuring things out, was. As such, it was a successful novel, a solid chapter in adolescent life, but while I did like it, I did find it lacking in oomph. And that, for me, with this book, was a critical ingredient in making me care. Instead, I found the novel - which I read a couple of weeks or so before writing this review - to be sadly forgettable, especially in the details. I couldn't even remember the characters' names. Smith is a strong writer and I like her style and the characters she creates, but I just wasn't all that interested in this particular story.]]> 3.68 2013 This Is What Happy Looks Like (This is What Happy Looks Like, #1)
author: Jennifer E. Smith
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.68
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/07/29
date added: 2024/02/23
shelves: ya, fiction, romance, cover-love, 2013, removed
review:
Ellie O'Neill is seventeen and living with her mum in the small coastal town of Henley, Maine. It's the summer holidays and she's working two jobs to save money for a poetry class at Harvard that she's been accepted into in August. When a Hollywood movie crew arrive to film scenes for a new romantic movie, Ellie doesn't have much time to take notice of it all, unlike her best friend Quinn whom she works with at the ice cream parlour, who's weak at the knees at seeing gorgeous young celebrity actor Graham Larkin, one of the stars of the film.

What Ellie doesn't realise is that she already knows Graham Larkin, the seventeen-year-old movie star made famous from his lead role in a trilogy of movies about a magician. She's been emailing him since March, when he accidentally sent her an email asking her to walk his pet pig, Wilbur. She replied to tell him he'd got the wrong person, and a flirty, friendly ongoing conversation began. While neither told the other their name, they shared many other details about their lives, details that were both vague and deeply personal all at once.

From these emails, Graham pieced together where exactly Ellie lived, and that she worked at an ice cream parlour. When the original location for the film fell through, Graham managed to convince the director to try Henley, Maine instead. Graham wants to meet Ellie. She doesn't know who he is or what his life is really like, and because of that he's been able to talk to her as if he were a regular teenager, not a celebrity.

When Ellie meets Graham in the flesh, she's torn. A part of her misses the emails they shared, the mystery of it all. Part of her wants to know him better, spend more time with him. And a part of her - the reasonable, clear-headed part - knows just how important it is for her to stay away from cameras, which makes dating Graham Larkin - who is always stalked by paparazzi - an impossibility. It's not just for her, but for her mother as well, who moved them up here when Ellie was five in order to escape the press and the stress of being watched, but also to protect Ellie's father. And it's this kind of secret that comes between Ellie and Graham now, a secret that seems impossible to overcome.

I greatly enjoyed Smith's previous novel, , which was fast- and smoothly-paced, tightly written, poignant and thoughtful. I was excited to get her new book, and after reading a very heavy Israeli novel, a book with a title like this seemed just the thing for me. And while I still greatly respect and admire Smith's writing, the maturity of her characters and their ability to grow, and her avoidance of the usual clichés, I did find that this novel was missing something, for me. Some spark of magic, or chemistry, or oomph. I'm not sure what exactly, only that I was left feeling a bit disappointed.

There is much to enjoy here, nevertheless. The emails at the start are fun to read, and both Ellie and Graham are likeable and sympathetic characters who are learning independence and how to balance their conflicting wants. Graham, after the surprise of landing his first major acting role when he'd just been goofing around in the school play, finds himself really enjoying the job of acting, and wants to do it for as long as he's interested in it, even though his parents, both ordinary, unadventurous middle class teachers, want him to go to university instead. He lives with his pet pig, Wilbur, alone in a big house in Los Angeles, and finds himself isolated by his celebrity status. His parents seem uncomfortable in his world, and treat him like visiting royalty - a stranger, in other words - when he goes home to see them, so he's started avoiding them. Graham is young, and new to it all, and has a fan base of screaming teenage girls, so he's got a long road ahead of him in terms of balancing a career in the film industry with having any sense of normalcy in his personal life.

Ellie is a strong heroine, intelligent and thoughtful but her moments of great maturity are balanced by her moments of adolescent drama - which aren't often but they do happen. Though I must add that I found her a bit, well, cold. She was just so very confident and "together". I found it hard to feel much interest, or sympathy, for her family secret, and felt a bit resentful on her behalf about it all. It also seemed a bit, well, tacky, and rather irrelevant. I would have quite happily cut that part out completely. But Ellie knows how to hold her own, even if she is rather serious about everything. (I liked Ellie, but I think I liked Graham more; aside from anything else, he just seemed a bit more human than she did.)

I don't know how realistic the premise of their original meeting is, or whether we should be romanticising it. Too many girls get trapped or taken advantage of or worse, through anonymous online communication of various kinds. Granted, Ellie is clearly too smart to fall for an online stalker or creepy pervert masquerading as someone younger, but still, she never really had any doubts about continuing to communicate with some unknown person half a country away. And true, they never discussed meeting in person, never went from slightly flirty to anything more overt, never wanted to exchange photos. But still, it's one area where I feel a great deal of caution around, because the mystery of it all makes it very tantalising to the teenage mind.

This is a lot longer than Smith's previous novel, and I found it a bit slow. It works in the sense that you get the chance to get to know the characters and understand them, but there just wasn't a whole lot else going on. I'm also unconvinced as to Ellie and Graham's chemistry. I just didn't really feel it. Perhaps because Ellie was so sensible and oh so mature, and perhaps because, like Ellie, it was a bit anticlimactic to meet someone in the flesh whom you've created as a certain person in your head while texting back and forth, all this time. As I mentioned, it's the mystery - the romance of the mystery - that appeals, but once the mystery is solved, well, then it's more of a struggle to remain interested. (The mystery isn't much of one to the reader, but you still pick up on their feelings about it.)

They always felt like real people, Ellie and Graham (though not, perhaps, as flawed as real people), and their friendship and budding romance was realistic - not rushed, not instant, but cautious and tender and a bit anxious too, lit with possibilities, not certainties - and the romance was not really the point of the story: growing up and figuring things out, was. As such, it was a successful novel, a solid chapter in adolescent life, but while I did like it, I did find it lacking in oomph. And that, for me, with this book, was a critical ingredient in making me care. Instead, I found the novel - which I read a couple of weeks or so before writing this review - to be sadly forgettable, especially in the details. I couldn't even remember the characters' names. Smith is a strong writer and I like her style and the characters she creates, but I just wasn't all that interested in this particular story.
]]> Frosty the Snowman 673496 26 Jack Rollins 082496506X Shannon 3 picture-book, 2013
As yet, with my group of 18-20 month old toddlers, this isn't a favourite. They don't seem to be able to take in the illustrations like they usually do, and haven't expressed much curiosity. It is winter here now, and at least one of them understands what a snowman is, but they just haven't gravitated towards this story yet.

Perhaps the problem is more the way I read it! And maybe it's something else.
]]> 4.10 1993 Frosty the Snowman
author: Jack Rollins
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.10
book published: 1993
rating: 3
read at: 2013/01/04
date added: 2024/01/27
shelves: picture-book, 2013
review:
I had never read this book in my life until recently, and I have no idea how the tune goes! I'll have to look it up, because so far the way I read it is pretty uninspiring!

As yet, with my group of 18-20 month old toddlers, this isn't a favourite. They don't seem to be able to take in the illustrations like they usually do, and haven't expressed much curiosity. It is winter here now, and at least one of them understands what a snowman is, but they just haven't gravitated towards this story yet.

Perhaps the problem is more the way I read it! And maybe it's something else.

]]> Sea Creatures 16248194
When Georgia takes a job as an errand runner for an artist who lives alone in the middle of Biscayne Bay, she's surprised to find her life changes dramatically. Time spent with the intense hermit at his isolated home might help Frankie gain the courage to speak, it seems. And it might help Georgia reconcile the woman she was with the woman she has become.

But when Graham leaves to work on a ship in Hurricane Alley and the truth behind Frankie's mutism is uncovered, the family's challenges return, more complicated than before. Late that summer, as a hurricane bears down on South Florida, Georgia must face the fact that her choices have put her only child in grave danger.

Sea Creatures is a mesmerizing exploration of the high stakes of marriage and parenthood, the story of a woman coming into her own as a mother, forced to choose between her marriage, her child, and the possibility of new love.]]> 320 Susanna Daniel 006221960X Shannon 3
Georgia had grown up in Miami, and her father lives there still, with his second wife, Lidia. Lidia's house backs onto a canal, and with his usual tendency towards recklessness, Graham proposes they buy a houseboat. They rename it Lullaby, and tether it to Lidia's dock. While Graham is busy at the lab, Georgia busies herself pruning Lidia's plants and looking after Frankie, who hasn't spoken or made little more than slight sounds since he was eighteen months old. They've taken him to several paediatricians and specialists, but still don't have a diagnosis or much of a plan to help him start speaking again.

In an effort to help and keep Georgia busy, Lidia recommends she take up a part-time job as an assistant to Charlie Hicks, a man her father's age who lives in one of the fourteen houses built on stilts in the Bay of Biscayne, called Stiltsville. Georgia remembers Charlie only vaguely; his wife Vivian had been a friend of her mother's, who often had parties at the house when Georgia's father, a musician, was away for months at a time. But everyone knows the story, how they lost their daughter, how Charlie left to live in Stiltsville like a regular old hermit while Vivian's health deteriorated and she ended up in a nursing home. Charlie is a quiet man who prefers solitude, but with the help of Frankie, whom Charlie makes time for, Georgia develops a warm friendship with "the hermit", and greatly admires the painstaking artwork he creates.

When Graham leaves for what was meant to be five weeks on board a ship with the rest of the scientific team in Hurricane Alley, to test their work, things change in subtle ways. Frankie starts to speak, and Georgia draws closer to Charlie and begins to see that there may be a connection between Frankie's selective mutism and his father's disturbing nocturnal wanderings. As news of a big hurricane - Hurricane Andrew - approaches, Georgia's decisions lead to the same recklessness she sees in her husband, and with an outcome just as terrifying.

For the first half or so of this book, I was full of admiration and praise for Sea Creatures. The prose was clean and smooth and unpretentious, the story simple and equally unpretentious, with a focus on Georgia as a mother and wife, trying to find her way and get some firm footing. Yet towards the end, it became more eventful, and the events that occur were not, I felt, in keeping with the tone of the rest of the book. It all got surprisingly melodramatic, and this drama - or we could call it "Georgia's decisions and their predictable fallout" - overshadowed and let down the strength of the book as a whole.

Perhaps if there had been less foreshadowing from Georgia herself, who narrates from the perspective of, I think it was, eight years into the future, it would have read more naturally. And perhaps if Georgia were less aloof from the reader, someone I could understand and relate to better, her choices wouldn't have seemed so ... tacky. Because I did find that the big drama around the time of Hurricane Andrew in August 1992 was almost cheesy in the way it was presented.

Georgia narrates in an omniscient, carefully-crafted storytelling style. She shares inside information about Graham and his childhood, for example, as if she were an author writing a story. It's a bit odd at first, but her ability to shed light on others adds a great deal to the depth of the story, which focuses on the characters and their connections to each other, their secrets and their desire to live a life of their choosing. Each character has the feel of a carefully crafted doll or game piece, each from a different game but occupying the same playing board, moving around like little islands, sometimes gently bumping into each other, sometimes connecting and sticking, like magnets, until something should pull them apart. I don't know how else to describe it, but that was how the characters move through this book. And for the most part, I really enjoyed it.

The dynamic between Georgia and Graham and Frankie is at the heart of the story, and Georgia's increasingly unflinching analysis of her marriage and the relationship between Frankie and his father is the main point of the whole novel. Everything that happens is a catalyst or an influence or a bump in the road on this journey of Georgia's. I could relate to Georgia in some ways, as we did have a few things in common - mostly a toddler - but Georgia is an over-protective, second-guessing, hovering sort of mother, so afraid that she's a bad mother or the reason Frankie won't talk that her ability to clearly reflect on her own parenting style or her decisions is clouded by this anxiety.

There was no real sense of chemistry between Georgia and Graham, not in how Georgia relates their relationship's early years, though I found Graham to be one of the most interesting characters in the whole novel. Far from black-and-white, Graham both loved his son and was impatient with his speech problem. He was considerate towards him but never really wanted to spend the quality time with him. Likewise, Frankie both adored his father - as all small children do - and feared him. It was Graham I pitied the most, though, when all was said and done. He came out the victim, in the end, I suppose, considering there was nothing he could do about his sleep disorder or what it made him do, the rare times he actually slept.

There is another character in this novel, one that Daniel clearly has a keen interest in: Stiltsville itself. Her first novel, Stiltsville, was set there as well, and it features prominently in Sea Creatures. In fact, the setting of Miami - which comes across as a small, somewhat sleepy town - as well as Stiltsville comes across strongly, and was one of the things I enjoyed most about this novel. I've never been to Florida, but the area in all its heat and reptilian glory came vividly to life.

The theme of sea creatures, too, was a rather beautiful one, and nicely incorporated. The obvious representation was in the artwork that Charlie Hicks creates, but it radiates out into Frankie's delight with snorkeling and the little sea creature toys Charlie gives him and the paper mobile he makes for him, as well as the scene in which Graham rescues a giant turtle from a lobster net (sharks had already bitten off one flipper). There's the woman who lives across the canal from Lidia who often dives into the alligator-infested waters for a swim (in fact, "recklessness" could be another theme of the novel), and the sense that the human characters on land are their own kind of creature, the way they're presented. (Coming back to that analogy from before, of the pieces from different games - different species - all occupying the same game board, in the way of sea creatures occupying the same sea.) There's something poignant and tender and genuinely heartfelt about the sea creatures, and it's also a way into understanding Charlie and humanising him.

I have a lot more to say about this book - it would be ideal for a book club discussion! - but my reviews are always too long so I need to wrap things up. Overall, I did like this book, I liked it a lot, it was atmospheric and felt authentic, realistic, without ever being dull. It was easy to become emotionally invested, as a silent, unobtrusive observer, and it was a story I was interested in. But the drama of the ending (not the actual end of the book, but the climactic events that signal major shifts and an ending to the story of that summer) was like an off, jarring note in an otherwise lovely musical performance. I was amazingly disappointed in how things went, because up until then this had been a wonderfully captivating, well-written story.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.64 2013 Sea Creatures
author: Susanna Daniel
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.64
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/08/13
date added: 2024/01/04
shelves: fiction, tlc-book-tours, 2013, removed
review:
In the summer of 1992, thirty-six year old Georgia Quillian packs up the island cottage in Illinois and drives down to Miami, Florida, with her husband Graham and their two-year-old son, Frankie. Graham has a rare sleep disorder called parasomnia - in fact, their trouble sleeping was how Georgia and Graham met, at a sleep clinic they dubbed Detention - and during the rare times he does sleep at night, he sleepwalks and does strange things. After he crashed through a glass window at a hotel, he lost his position at the university and the neighbours spoke of how creepy the family was in the media. It was time to leave, and Graham had been offered a position at the university in Miami which seemed fortuitous, using his IT skills as part of a team researching hurricanes.

Georgia had grown up in Miami, and her father lives there still, with his second wife, Lidia. Lidia's house backs onto a canal, and with his usual tendency towards recklessness, Graham proposes they buy a houseboat. They rename it Lullaby, and tether it to Lidia's dock. While Graham is busy at the lab, Georgia busies herself pruning Lidia's plants and looking after Frankie, who hasn't spoken or made little more than slight sounds since he was eighteen months old. They've taken him to several paediatricians and specialists, but still don't have a diagnosis or much of a plan to help him start speaking again.

In an effort to help and keep Georgia busy, Lidia recommends she take up a part-time job as an assistant to Charlie Hicks, a man her father's age who lives in one of the fourteen houses built on stilts in the Bay of Biscayne, called Stiltsville. Georgia remembers Charlie only vaguely; his wife Vivian had been a friend of her mother's, who often had parties at the house when Georgia's father, a musician, was away for months at a time. But everyone knows the story, how they lost their daughter, how Charlie left to live in Stiltsville like a regular old hermit while Vivian's health deteriorated and she ended up in a nursing home. Charlie is a quiet man who prefers solitude, but with the help of Frankie, whom Charlie makes time for, Georgia develops a warm friendship with "the hermit", and greatly admires the painstaking artwork he creates.

When Graham leaves for what was meant to be five weeks on board a ship with the rest of the scientific team in Hurricane Alley, to test their work, things change in subtle ways. Frankie starts to speak, and Georgia draws closer to Charlie and begins to see that there may be a connection between Frankie's selective mutism and his father's disturbing nocturnal wanderings. As news of a big hurricane - Hurricane Andrew - approaches, Georgia's decisions lead to the same recklessness she sees in her husband, and with an outcome just as terrifying.

For the first half or so of this book, I was full of admiration and praise for Sea Creatures. The prose was clean and smooth and unpretentious, the story simple and equally unpretentious, with a focus on Georgia as a mother and wife, trying to find her way and get some firm footing. Yet towards the end, it became more eventful, and the events that occur were not, I felt, in keeping with the tone of the rest of the book. It all got surprisingly melodramatic, and this drama - or we could call it "Georgia's decisions and their predictable fallout" - overshadowed and let down the strength of the book as a whole.

Perhaps if there had been less foreshadowing from Georgia herself, who narrates from the perspective of, I think it was, eight years into the future, it would have read more naturally. And perhaps if Georgia were less aloof from the reader, someone I could understand and relate to better, her choices wouldn't have seemed so ... tacky. Because I did find that the big drama around the time of Hurricane Andrew in August 1992 was almost cheesy in the way it was presented.

Georgia narrates in an omniscient, carefully-crafted storytelling style. She shares inside information about Graham and his childhood, for example, as if she were an author writing a story. It's a bit odd at first, but her ability to shed light on others adds a great deal to the depth of the story, which focuses on the characters and their connections to each other, their secrets and their desire to live a life of their choosing. Each character has the feel of a carefully crafted doll or game piece, each from a different game but occupying the same playing board, moving around like little islands, sometimes gently bumping into each other, sometimes connecting and sticking, like magnets, until something should pull them apart. I don't know how else to describe it, but that was how the characters move through this book. And for the most part, I really enjoyed it.

The dynamic between Georgia and Graham and Frankie is at the heart of the story, and Georgia's increasingly unflinching analysis of her marriage and the relationship between Frankie and his father is the main point of the whole novel. Everything that happens is a catalyst or an influence or a bump in the road on this journey of Georgia's. I could relate to Georgia in some ways, as we did have a few things in common - mostly a toddler - but Georgia is an over-protective, second-guessing, hovering sort of mother, so afraid that she's a bad mother or the reason Frankie won't talk that her ability to clearly reflect on her own parenting style or her decisions is clouded by this anxiety.

There was no real sense of chemistry between Georgia and Graham, not in how Georgia relates their relationship's early years, though I found Graham to be one of the most interesting characters in the whole novel. Far from black-and-white, Graham both loved his son and was impatient with his speech problem. He was considerate towards him but never really wanted to spend the quality time with him. Likewise, Frankie both adored his father - as all small children do - and feared him. It was Graham I pitied the most, though, when all was said and done. He came out the victim, in the end, I suppose, considering there was nothing he could do about his sleep disorder or what it made him do, the rare times he actually slept.

There is another character in this novel, one that Daniel clearly has a keen interest in: Stiltsville itself. Her first novel, Stiltsville, was set there as well, and it features prominently in Sea Creatures. In fact, the setting of Miami - which comes across as a small, somewhat sleepy town - as well as Stiltsville comes across strongly, and was one of the things I enjoyed most about this novel. I've never been to Florida, but the area in all its heat and reptilian glory came vividly to life.

The theme of sea creatures, too, was a rather beautiful one, and nicely incorporated. The obvious representation was in the artwork that Charlie Hicks creates, but it radiates out into Frankie's delight with snorkeling and the little sea creature toys Charlie gives him and the paper mobile he makes for him, as well as the scene in which Graham rescues a giant turtle from a lobster net (sharks had already bitten off one flipper). There's the woman who lives across the canal from Lidia who often dives into the alligator-infested waters for a swim (in fact, "recklessness" could be another theme of the novel), and the sense that the human characters on land are their own kind of creature, the way they're presented. (Coming back to that analogy from before, of the pieces from different games - different species - all occupying the same game board, in the way of sea creatures occupying the same sea.) There's something poignant and tender and genuinely heartfelt about the sea creatures, and it's also a way into understanding Charlie and humanising him.

I have a lot more to say about this book - it would be ideal for a book club discussion! - but my reviews are always too long so I need to wrap things up. Overall, I did like this book, I liked it a lot, it was atmospheric and felt authentic, realistic, without ever being dull. It was easy to become emotionally invested, as a silent, unobtrusive observer, and it was a story I was interested in. But the drama of the ending (not the actual end of the book, but the climactic events that signal major shifts and an ending to the story of that summer) was like an off, jarring note in an otherwise lovely musical performance. I was amazingly disappointed in how things went, because up until then this had been a wonderfully captivating, well-written story.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> <![CDATA[The Professional: Part 1 (The Game Maker, #1a)]]> 18223667 Mafiya enforcer Aleksandr "The Siberian" Sevastyan’s loyalty to his boss is unwavering, until he meets the boss’s long-lost daughter, a curvy, tantalizing redhead who haunts his mind and heats his blood like no other. Ordered to protect her, Sevastyan will do anything to possess her as well—on his own wicked terms.

Rules are made to be broken . . .
PhD student Natalie Porter had barely recovered from her first sight of the breathtakingly gorgeous Sevastyan before the professional hit man whisks her away to Russia, thrusting her into a world of extreme wealth and wanton pleasures. With every day she spends under his protection, she falls deeper under his masterful spell.

Are you ready to play?
Yet all is not as it seems. To remove Natalie from an enemy’s reach, Sevastyan spirits her into hiding. From an opulent palace in Russia to the decadent playgrounds of the mega-wealthy in Paris, the two lovers will discover that even their darkest—and most forbidden—fantasies can come true…]]> 120 Kresley Cole 145165006X Shannon 4
While out one night at a bar with her friends, Nat sees a man who steals her breath. Everything about him screams "danger", from his dark looks, brooding glare and tattoos. But he's far more interesting than all the jocks in the place, with that sexy Russian accent, so she makes an approach only to be shut-down swiftly. It's a shock, then, to find him in her apartment later that night.

Aleksandr Sevastyan - nicknamed "The Siberian" - is in America to guard Natalie from her father's enemies; only now does he make his presence known because his orders are to get her on a plane to Russia immediately. Her father, Pavel Kovalev - known as the Clockmaker in his own circle - is high up in the Mafia and his enemies, having discovered the existence of a daughter through Nat's last PI, are closing in on her. Sevastyan is Pavel's right-hand man, an orphan he took in when just a boy and raised like his own. Pavel's excited to learn that he has a daughter, and trusts no one but The Siberian to bring her "home".

I'm a major fan of Kresley Cole, but I have to admit I wasn't sure about this one when I first heard about it - or even when I started reading it. It's all so ... outlandish. But then I remembered: it's romance. It's almost always outlandish, especially the good ones. Unless there are really noticeable flaws and plotholes and stupid decisions in the story, it's easy to go with it and enjoy. And I need not have worried in this case: this is Kresley Cole, after all. She writes so well, she can overcome even the most outlandish of premises (I mean, since when did the Russian Mafia become sexy?!).

I'll put aside my real thoughts on learning that Pavel, Natalie's father, is a lovely man who became a crime boss in order to protect people from the other crime bosses - he's a little bit too good to be true. He lives in a real palace, centuries old, one rescued and renovated, on a vast estate outside Moscow. His nephew and Nat's cousin, the incredibly handsome Filip Liukin, is living there as well - he seems to have a gambling problem as well as a flirtatious eye for Nat. There's also the slight implausibility of Nat being okay with her father being a crime lord, though granted she didn't have much choice in relocating. But she's certainly putting aside any ethics (or morals, for that matter) and getting on board with the whole thing.

But like I said, I put all that aside and just went with it, and as a result got a highly enjoyable story full of steamy scenes and fraught with sexual tension (and I'll admit, the Russian Mob angle is very exciting and a nice change for me). Cole's skill at writing stories you can really immerse yourself in, and characters who don't drive you nuts, comes to the fore. Her trademark humour is present, though not quite so much as in her excellent Immortals After Dark series. There's enough detail for realism but the pace is tight, smooth and fast ("that's what she said" - sorry, couldn't resist!). There's a hint of danger and tension - not from without, as we haven't seen it yet, but from within; I'm much more alert than Nat, clearly, and am picking up on something suspicious in the air. I'm expecting betrayal any moment, though not from Sevastyan.

Mmm and isn't he a dish? Certain descriptors may sound a bit cliched - the tats, the leather clothes, the dark brooding glare - but somehow Cole makes it all feel fresh and exciting. Nat, despite being a virgin, is sexually experienced in every other way and doesn't resist her attraction to him. This is erotic romance (not erotica, that's a different kettle of fish entirely and not half so fun as erotic romance), so the sex scenes are steamy and edgy; Sevastyan likes it a bit rough and intense, and Nat's learning that how much it turns her on, as well. Another trait of erotic romance (as opposed to other forms of romance) is the proclivity of sex scenes, or steamy scenes - even within this novella, there are plenty to keep you satisfied. And it's only just getting going.

Where the story will go from here I don't know, but I can't wait to find out with Part 2. I'm not a big fan of serialising romance stories, but it does seem to be the new "thing" for e-books, and I can understand the appeal to publishers. It's hard for readers, though, to get so far in a story only to have to wait to keep reading the same story. But once all the e-book parts are out, the complete novel should be printed. That's how it worked with Beth Kery, another erotic romance writer I love reading, so I hope that's how it will go here as well.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.]]> 4.13 2013 The Professional: Part 1 (The Game Maker, #1a)
author: Kresley Cole
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.13
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/12/22
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: netgalley, review-copy, e-book, erotic-romance, romance, 2013
review:
Natalie Porter is a Ph.d student of history who has been working two restaurant jobs to help pay for private investigators in Russia, searching for her father, whom she's never met. She's lost contact with the latest investigator, Zironoff, but hasn't given up hope of tracking down her dad.

While out one night at a bar with her friends, Nat sees a man who steals her breath. Everything about him screams "danger", from his dark looks, brooding glare and tattoos. But he's far more interesting than all the jocks in the place, with that sexy Russian accent, so she makes an approach only to be shut-down swiftly. It's a shock, then, to find him in her apartment later that night.

Aleksandr Sevastyan - nicknamed "The Siberian" - is in America to guard Natalie from her father's enemies; only now does he make his presence known because his orders are to get her on a plane to Russia immediately. Her father, Pavel Kovalev - known as the Clockmaker in his own circle - is high up in the Mafia and his enemies, having discovered the existence of a daughter through Nat's last PI, are closing in on her. Sevastyan is Pavel's right-hand man, an orphan he took in when just a boy and raised like his own. Pavel's excited to learn that he has a daughter, and trusts no one but The Siberian to bring her "home".

I'm a major fan of Kresley Cole, but I have to admit I wasn't sure about this one when I first heard about it - or even when I started reading it. It's all so ... outlandish. But then I remembered: it's romance. It's almost always outlandish, especially the good ones. Unless there are really noticeable flaws and plotholes and stupid decisions in the story, it's easy to go with it and enjoy. And I need not have worried in this case: this is Kresley Cole, after all. She writes so well, she can overcome even the most outlandish of premises (I mean, since when did the Russian Mafia become sexy?!).

I'll put aside my real thoughts on learning that Pavel, Natalie's father, is a lovely man who became a crime boss in order to protect people from the other crime bosses - he's a little bit too good to be true. He lives in a real palace, centuries old, one rescued and renovated, on a vast estate outside Moscow. His nephew and Nat's cousin, the incredibly handsome Filip Liukin, is living there as well - he seems to have a gambling problem as well as a flirtatious eye for Nat. There's also the slight implausibility of Nat being okay with her father being a crime lord, though granted she didn't have much choice in relocating. But she's certainly putting aside any ethics (or morals, for that matter) and getting on board with the whole thing.

But like I said, I put all that aside and just went with it, and as a result got a highly enjoyable story full of steamy scenes and fraught with sexual tension (and I'll admit, the Russian Mob angle is very exciting and a nice change for me). Cole's skill at writing stories you can really immerse yourself in, and characters who don't drive you nuts, comes to the fore. Her trademark humour is present, though not quite so much as in her excellent Immortals After Dark series. There's enough detail for realism but the pace is tight, smooth and fast ("that's what she said" - sorry, couldn't resist!). There's a hint of danger and tension - not from without, as we haven't seen it yet, but from within; I'm much more alert than Nat, clearly, and am picking up on something suspicious in the air. I'm expecting betrayal any moment, though not from Sevastyan.

Mmm and isn't he a dish? Certain descriptors may sound a bit cliched - the tats, the leather clothes, the dark brooding glare - but somehow Cole makes it all feel fresh and exciting. Nat, despite being a virgin, is sexually experienced in every other way and doesn't resist her attraction to him. This is erotic romance (not erotica, that's a different kettle of fish entirely and not half so fun as erotic romance), so the sex scenes are steamy and edgy; Sevastyan likes it a bit rough and intense, and Nat's learning that how much it turns her on, as well. Another trait of erotic romance (as opposed to other forms of romance) is the proclivity of sex scenes, or steamy scenes - even within this novella, there are plenty to keep you satisfied. And it's only just getting going.

Where the story will go from here I don't know, but I can't wait to find out with Part 2. I'm not a big fan of serialising romance stories, but it does seem to be the new "thing" for e-books, and I can understand the appeal to publishers. It's hard for readers, though, to get so far in a story only to have to wait to keep reading the same story. But once all the e-book parts are out, the complete novel should be printed. That's how it worked with Beth Kery, another erotic romance writer I love reading, so I hope that's how it will go here as well.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> just_a_girl 17399092 just_a_girl tears into the fabric of contemporary culture. A Puberty Blues for the digital age, a Lolita with a webcam, it’s what happens when young girls are forced to grow up too fast. Or never get the chance to grow up at all.

Layla is only 14. She cruises online. She catches trains to meet strangers. Her mother, Margot, never suspects. Even when Layla brings a man into their home. Margot’s caught in her own web: an evangelical church and a charismatic pastor. Meanwhile, downtown, a man opens a suitcase and tenderly places his young lover inside.

just_a_girl is a novel about being isolated and searching for a sense of connection, faith, friendship and healing, and explores what it’s like to grow up negotiating the digital world of facebook, webcams, internet porn, mobile phones and cyberbullying – a world where the line between public and private is increasingly being eroded.]]> 272 Kirsten Krauth 1742584950 Shannon 5
At home, Margot suffers from depression and is deep in her evangelical church, run by a charismatic pastor, Bevan, and his wife, Chelsea. She struggles with the perceived knowledge that she turned her husband gay, and she struggles with her memories of the past: of her alcoholic mother especially, and the family's long history of abuse and hate. She watches Dr Phil and prays and is trying to wean herself off her medication. She worries about Layla but the two don't talk. They operate in cocoons of silence or antagonism or pre-judgement.

On the train, Lalya likes to sit opposite men and unwrap a Chupa Chup, then slowly, erotically, lick and suck on it. Just to see them squirm. One passenger she notices is different from the others: he always sits with a suitcase and reads Haruki Murakami. The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. He is Tadashi. He's been alone since his mother died and his search for love and companionship has led him to order an Asian-looking Love Doll from America. For six thousand dollars, he has the perfect woman, whom he names Mika. He dresses her and talks to her, feeds her and makes love to her. Takes her on trips up the mountain by carefully placing her inside his suitcase. And she looks almost exactly like Layla.

As the year rolls by and Layla turns fifteen, she finds herself deep in an affair with a married man while juggling her other relationships - with parents, friends and boys. Always searching, looking, yearning, but too young to really understand what she's doing, Layla is a modern-day Lolita, internet-savvy and precocious, wise to the world but also dangerously naïve and vulnerable.

Kirsten Krauth's debut novel is an excellent book. Both powerful and subtle, it hits you hard then softly, tenderly rubs the blow. It's this heady mix of violence and tenderness that permeates the novel and your own reading experience, but never tips it over into melodrama. Part of the magic is Layla's voice. Krauth has nailed Layla, with her acerbic humour, her intelligence and her inexperience - I didn't have much in common with Layla, as a teenager, but I could still relate, could still see elements of people I knew, peers, who did have a lot in common with her. She's realistic and believable and all too human.

This isn't a predictable story. I was never sure where it was going or how it would end, and it has one of those lovely open endings where certain things come to a head but aren't neatly tied off. Just like real life. This is, of course, a story about several things all at once. One of the most prominent themes is that of the precocious young girl discovering her sexuality and the power her sexuality has over men. Layla never really comes out and says why she pursues older men, but then, she doesn't really understand it herself. She's not especially self-reflective, any more than most teens are - she has moments of great insight and raw perception, but without experience (which comes with age and living), she can't really analyse her own actions. She rather dismissively refers to a psychologist's take that she's looking for a male role model, since her dad left when she was five. She's cynical enough to find that too simplistic.

I remember that time, that age, though unlike Layla I didn't take advantage of it - but I do remember what it was like, becoming sexually aware and not really knowing what to do with it. Being on the cusp of womanhood and wanting something, wanting more. Wanting to feel. Unlike Layla, though, I was all too aware that I would just be taken advantage of, abused even, that indulging in the feelings would lead to the kind of mistakes that you would always regret. I've always had super-effective impulse control - too much so, at times, makes me less adventurous than I might otherwise be. I also remember the girls I went to school with, who were exploring their newfound sexual power, and often revelling in it. (If nothing else, their experiences taught me that I didn't need to copy them.) They lacked the sophistication of Layla, and in the mid-90s we didn't have the internet either, but the thought-processes were much the same.

Layla gives voice to the compulsions and feelings experience by many teen girls, and while this is written for adults, it's a book that gives great insight into what's going on in their heads, without trying to supply the answers - since the issue is so complex, so individualistic, and a symptom of many varying causes. Layla's story is just one of many.

And yet it's not just Layla's story. It's also Margot's, and Tadashi's. Their stories take a back seat to Layla's, but not because they're unimportant. All three are voices of loneliness, and this comes across strongly in the style of writing itself. Each character has their own distinct voice, even Tadashi whose chapters are told in third-person. Margot is captured so well. Here is a woman caught up in herself and her own flawed nature, who recognises her problems but doesn't know how to solve them or deal with them. And so she turns to self-help, from Dr Phil to the church. It's clear to the reader that these things aren't really helping, certainly not in any practical way. It's easy to sympathise with, or feel sympathetic for, Margot, whose loneliness sinks its teeth into you. Even Layla, eventually, comes to realise the truth about her mother.

As we look out into the food court the fluorescent light settles on her. And I see her wrinkles. Just the beginnings of them. Dancing at her eyes. And the way she hesitates before asking for the bill.

And it hits me for the first time. She's not just my mother. She's a woman living alone. She's uncertain of the future. She's waiting for something to happen. She doesn't have any friends. She's shy. She's beyond lonely.

I let her have the last mouthful of cake. [p.171]


This is a story where you're constantly re-jigging your own perceptions and understanding, ditching those judgements and assumptions we all tend to make in a blink as we get to know these characters further. I absolutely love that kind of connection with fiction: the sense of being an active reader, not a passive receptacle for information someone else has decided you should have. It's not that Krauth isn't guiding things in her artful way, or creating a very specific story that she wants you to hear and learn from. It's that the way she's crafted this story, you're not being constantly told what to think. You're shown things, and from these things you actively participate, as a reader, in creating your own understanding. When the subject matter is like this, only a weak novel would try to give the reader all the answers, and this is no weak novel.

In some ways, this book reminded me of another I read this year: Jenni Fagan's . It's not that the stories are similar, but that they both tackle what it is to grow up young and without guidance in today's world - and it's a truism to say that this isn't the same world as our grandparents'. It's gritty realism at its best, laced with the kind of humour that comes from living on the edge: on the edge of understanding, the edge of adulthood, the edge of innocence. Interestingly, Layla is - if we are to believe her - a virgin. She thinks having sex before she's sixteen would be too "skanky". But it's clear she's doing everything bar actual penetration, and so she's very much a sexually active teenager - especially so because she actually, actively, searches for sexual encounters, encourages them, pursues them.

The question of who seduced who in her relationship with a much older married man (I won't name him, it would spoil things, though that is one detail that you will be able to predict) is an interesting one. Of course, it's illegal - and with good reason. While certainly many adults make poor decisions all the time, I think we'd all agree that underage teenagers are just too young for certain things. Somehow, it bothers me less to think of teenage girls "experimenting" sexually with boys their own age, than with older males. This is quite simply because "they know better." It's an over-simplification, perhaps, but oh so true: men, as opposed to adolescent boys, know that they're taking advantage of teenaged girls. Girls think they have all the power, and in some ways they do.

But it reminds me of this newspaper article I read a few backs, I can't remember which country or area it was from but it was about some orthodox Jewish men upset that a woman sat in front of them on the bus. Another article - and this one I do remember was from Montreal - was about a Jewish boys' school situated opposite a women's gym, complaining to the gym and insisting they blacken their windows because the sight of women in workout clothes was too tempting for their students. In both cases, the one thing that came to mind was the shifting of responsibility for men's sexual urges, appetites, whatever you want to call them, onto women, who are simply going about their business. It's the same thing with that ridiculous argument (that some women repeat, too) that women are to blame for being raped if they wear skimpy clothing, short skirts, high heels. There is the onus of responsibility at play here. Whether teenaged girls are acting the temptress or not, we need to shake the idea that men can take what's offered (or what's in front of them) from our society. Because it's one thing to take advantage of a young girl who's learning about sexual power, and another not-very-different thing to simply abuse a girl or woman. The two start to blur in your head.

just_a_girl skilfully walks the fine line between childhood and adulthood, loneliness and unhealthy ways of finding companionship - without being judgemental or censorious. Layla won me over with her distinctive voice, her vulnerability tucked away beneath her modern sophistication. She's misguided, certainly, but not the bad girl she might appear to be, hiding behind her fringe and black eyeliner and provocative manners. There is a gentle blossoming of her relationship with her mother, the possibility of a reconnecting between them that shows all too clearly that it requires both parent and child to mend a damaged bond. At its heart, there are all the signs of love and a sense of belonging, if only the characters realise it's there and acknowledge the active effort it takes to grasp it.

There is so much to explore in this well-crafted novel; I've barely scratched the surface. It's been a couple of weeks since I read it and it still lives strong in my mind. This was one of those beautifully gritty novels, a real peon for the modern age. It gives girls like Layla a realistic voice, raises some very painful and ugly issues that are, no matter what we'd like, prevalent in our society, and it does so with compassion, empathy and intelligence. I absolutely loved just_a_girl, and hold it up for all to see as an excellent example of stellar writing, characterisation and overall story-telling.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.55 2013 just_a_girl
author: Kirsten Krauth
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.55
book published: 2013
rating: 5
read at: 2013/12/16
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, fiction, 2013, coming-of-age, gritty-realism, pop-culture, australian-women-writers, aww2013
review:
Layla is fourteen and living with her mother, Margot, in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales. Her dad, Geoff, is gay and a professional chef living in Queensland. Using the alias, just_a_girl, Layla cruises online chatrooms meeting grown men and arranging hookups. She has a boyfriend, Davo, until she discovers he's been seeing her best friend, Sarah, behind her back. She picks up a job at the local supermarket where one of the owners, a butcher, molests the female staff. But his son, Marco, catches her eye.

At home, Margot suffers from depression and is deep in her evangelical church, run by a charismatic pastor, Bevan, and his wife, Chelsea. She struggles with the perceived knowledge that she turned her husband gay, and she struggles with her memories of the past: of her alcoholic mother especially, and the family's long history of abuse and hate. She watches Dr Phil and prays and is trying to wean herself off her medication. She worries about Layla but the two don't talk. They operate in cocoons of silence or antagonism or pre-judgement.

On the train, Lalya likes to sit opposite men and unwrap a Chupa Chup, then slowly, erotically, lick and suck on it. Just to see them squirm. One passenger she notices is different from the others: he always sits with a suitcase and reads Haruki Murakami. The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. He is Tadashi. He's been alone since his mother died and his search for love and companionship has led him to order an Asian-looking Love Doll from America. For six thousand dollars, he has the perfect woman, whom he names Mika. He dresses her and talks to her, feeds her and makes love to her. Takes her on trips up the mountain by carefully placing her inside his suitcase. And she looks almost exactly like Layla.

As the year rolls by and Layla turns fifteen, she finds herself deep in an affair with a married man while juggling her other relationships - with parents, friends and boys. Always searching, looking, yearning, but too young to really understand what she's doing, Layla is a modern-day Lolita, internet-savvy and precocious, wise to the world but also dangerously naïve and vulnerable.

Kirsten Krauth's debut novel is an excellent book. Both powerful and subtle, it hits you hard then softly, tenderly rubs the blow. It's this heady mix of violence and tenderness that permeates the novel and your own reading experience, but never tips it over into melodrama. Part of the magic is Layla's voice. Krauth has nailed Layla, with her acerbic humour, her intelligence and her inexperience - I didn't have much in common with Layla, as a teenager, but I could still relate, could still see elements of people I knew, peers, who did have a lot in common with her. She's realistic and believable and all too human.

This isn't a predictable story. I was never sure where it was going or how it would end, and it has one of those lovely open endings where certain things come to a head but aren't neatly tied off. Just like real life. This is, of course, a story about several things all at once. One of the most prominent themes is that of the precocious young girl discovering her sexuality and the power her sexuality has over men. Layla never really comes out and says why she pursues older men, but then, she doesn't really understand it herself. She's not especially self-reflective, any more than most teens are - she has moments of great insight and raw perception, but without experience (which comes with age and living), she can't really analyse her own actions. She rather dismissively refers to a psychologist's take that she's looking for a male role model, since her dad left when she was five. She's cynical enough to find that too simplistic.

I remember that time, that age, though unlike Layla I didn't take advantage of it - but I do remember what it was like, becoming sexually aware and not really knowing what to do with it. Being on the cusp of womanhood and wanting something, wanting more. Wanting to feel. Unlike Layla, though, I was all too aware that I would just be taken advantage of, abused even, that indulging in the feelings would lead to the kind of mistakes that you would always regret. I've always had super-effective impulse control - too much so, at times, makes me less adventurous than I might otherwise be. I also remember the girls I went to school with, who were exploring their newfound sexual power, and often revelling in it. (If nothing else, their experiences taught me that I didn't need to copy them.) They lacked the sophistication of Layla, and in the mid-90s we didn't have the internet either, but the thought-processes were much the same.

Layla gives voice to the compulsions and feelings experience by many teen girls, and while this is written for adults, it's a book that gives great insight into what's going on in their heads, without trying to supply the answers - since the issue is so complex, so individualistic, and a symptom of many varying causes. Layla's story is just one of many.

And yet it's not just Layla's story. It's also Margot's, and Tadashi's. Their stories take a back seat to Layla's, but not because they're unimportant. All three are voices of loneliness, and this comes across strongly in the style of writing itself. Each character has their own distinct voice, even Tadashi whose chapters are told in third-person. Margot is captured so well. Here is a woman caught up in herself and her own flawed nature, who recognises her problems but doesn't know how to solve them or deal with them. And so she turns to self-help, from Dr Phil to the church. It's clear to the reader that these things aren't really helping, certainly not in any practical way. It's easy to sympathise with, or feel sympathetic for, Margot, whose loneliness sinks its teeth into you. Even Layla, eventually, comes to realise the truth about her mother.

As we look out into the food court the fluorescent light settles on her. And I see her wrinkles. Just the beginnings of them. Dancing at her eyes. And the way she hesitates before asking for the bill.

And it hits me for the first time. She's not just my mother. She's a woman living alone. She's uncertain of the future. She's waiting for something to happen. She doesn't have any friends. She's shy. She's beyond lonely.

I let her have the last mouthful of cake. [p.171]


This is a story where you're constantly re-jigging your own perceptions and understanding, ditching those judgements and assumptions we all tend to make in a blink as we get to know these characters further. I absolutely love that kind of connection with fiction: the sense of being an active reader, not a passive receptacle for information someone else has decided you should have. It's not that Krauth isn't guiding things in her artful way, or creating a very specific story that she wants you to hear and learn from. It's that the way she's crafted this story, you're not being constantly told what to think. You're shown things, and from these things you actively participate, as a reader, in creating your own understanding. When the subject matter is like this, only a weak novel would try to give the reader all the answers, and this is no weak novel.

In some ways, this book reminded me of another I read this year: Jenni Fagan's . It's not that the stories are similar, but that they both tackle what it is to grow up young and without guidance in today's world - and it's a truism to say that this isn't the same world as our grandparents'. It's gritty realism at its best, laced with the kind of humour that comes from living on the edge: on the edge of understanding, the edge of adulthood, the edge of innocence. Interestingly, Layla is - if we are to believe her - a virgin. She thinks having sex before she's sixteen would be too "skanky". But it's clear she's doing everything bar actual penetration, and so she's very much a sexually active teenager - especially so because she actually, actively, searches for sexual encounters, encourages them, pursues them.

The question of who seduced who in her relationship with a much older married man (I won't name him, it would spoil things, though that is one detail that you will be able to predict) is an interesting one. Of course, it's illegal - and with good reason. While certainly many adults make poor decisions all the time, I think we'd all agree that underage teenagers are just too young for certain things. Somehow, it bothers me less to think of teenage girls "experimenting" sexually with boys their own age, than with older males. This is quite simply because "they know better." It's an over-simplification, perhaps, but oh so true: men, as opposed to adolescent boys, know that they're taking advantage of teenaged girls. Girls think they have all the power, and in some ways they do.

But it reminds me of this newspaper article I read a few backs, I can't remember which country or area it was from but it was about some orthodox Jewish men upset that a woman sat in front of them on the bus. Another article - and this one I do remember was from Montreal - was about a Jewish boys' school situated opposite a women's gym, complaining to the gym and insisting they blacken their windows because the sight of women in workout clothes was too tempting for their students. In both cases, the one thing that came to mind was the shifting of responsibility for men's sexual urges, appetites, whatever you want to call them, onto women, who are simply going about their business. It's the same thing with that ridiculous argument (that some women repeat, too) that women are to blame for being raped if they wear skimpy clothing, short skirts, high heels. There is the onus of responsibility at play here. Whether teenaged girls are acting the temptress or not, we need to shake the idea that men can take what's offered (or what's in front of them) from our society. Because it's one thing to take advantage of a young girl who's learning about sexual power, and another not-very-different thing to simply abuse a girl or woman. The two start to blur in your head.

just_a_girl skilfully walks the fine line between childhood and adulthood, loneliness and unhealthy ways of finding companionship - without being judgemental or censorious. Layla won me over with her distinctive voice, her vulnerability tucked away beneath her modern sophistication. She's misguided, certainly, but not the bad girl she might appear to be, hiding behind her fringe and black eyeliner and provocative manners. There is a gentle blossoming of her relationship with her mother, the possibility of a reconnecting between them that shows all too clearly that it requires both parent and child to mend a damaged bond. At its heart, there are all the signs of love and a sense of belonging, if only the characters realise it's there and acknowledge the active effort it takes to grasp it.

There is so much to explore in this well-crafted novel; I've barely scratched the surface. It's been a couple of weeks since I read it and it still lives strong in my mind. This was one of those beautifully gritty novels, a real peon for the modern age. It gives girls like Layla a realistic voice, raises some very painful and ugly issues that are, no matter what we'd like, prevalent in our society, and it does so with compassion, empathy and intelligence. I absolutely loved just_a_girl, and hold it up for all to see as an excellent example of stellar writing, characterisation and overall story-telling.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Dear Santasaurus 17469947 32 Stacy McAnulty 1590788761 Shannon 4
Ernest may be a dinosaur, but really he's a typical young boy that children (and their parents) will be able to relate to easily. Coupled with Jef Kaminsky's cartoon-like illustrations, this book reminded me a lot of children's television shows. Granted, the ones I've started letting my two-year-old watch (yes, it's come to that, there's only so long you can hold out!) are predominately British and a mix of fancy 3D CGI and old-style animation a la Peppa Pig, but they all tend to have one thing in common: using animals (like pigs or bees) or mythological creatures (like fairies or elves) or fictional characters (like robots or aliens) to make everyday stories more interesting, as well as to show a universality to human stories. Children's books are, likewise, often used to help dispel the classic "us vs. them" dichotomy that seems to rise in children instinctually, and I do find the books to be less obvious than the TV shows (and I have zero guilt in letting my child read books!).

Dear Santasaurus is a sweet, funny and very entertaining book, a picture book for older children. It was too long and too advanced for my boy, who doesn't really remember his first two Christmas' and is only just getting his head around the typical Christmas symbols: Santa etc. The concept of naughty and nice, or of writing to Santa, these are a bit too abstract for him yet. The story itself has lovely context jokes where the illustrations play off the text - and vice versa - in really fun ways, but likewise my boy is too young yet to get any of the humour, or even really understand the situations or what Ernest is really saying in his letters. It's one I will have to wait a couple more years before getting out again to read to him, which isn't a bad thing. If your child is five or older, they will get a lot out of this.

Here's a taste:

April 1
Dear Santasaurus,
For Christmas, I want rainbow underwear with white polka dots. Seven hundred pairs of underwear. And Ty wants a thousand pairs of socks. That's it. No toys. No scooter.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus
PS: Just kidding. APRIL FOOL'S DAY!! Ha ha ha.




April 2
Dear Santasaurus,
Yesterday's letter was a joke. You knew that, right? I do NOT want seven hundred pairs of underwear for Christmas. I don't want any underwear. I want the Jurassic Turbo Scooter X(.
Please, please, please do not bring me any underwear.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus
PS: Ty doesn't want socks, either.




May 13
Dear Santasaurus,
Today, I scored two soccer goals (one for my team, one for the other team). I ate all my dinner (except for what dropped on the floor). I even helped Amber take her first steps. So let's forget about yesterday's mess with the glitter glue, paint, and Dad's toothbrush. Besides, Mom sure did like the Mother's Day card I made with my own claws.
I've been thinking about my Christmas list. I want the Sea Serpent Blue Jurassic Turbo Scooter X9. I also want a Raging Raptor action figure.
Please.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus


The illustrations are bold, colourful and lively, and don't simply echo the text but rather show another side to the story, a kind of "what really happened" side to it. They're fresh and fun and really help with the whole book's festive, exciting, cheerful vibe. And what was really nice, especially for a Christmas picture book, was the fact that there was no in-your-face, saccharine moral at the end. Ernest got the Christmas present he wanted, and was really really happy. The point of the story isn't about good deeds and impressing on kids any kind of pressure to be something they're not; it's about kids being kids, and enjoying their childhood, and striving and trying without weighty repercussions or negative consequences. You could read this as "Santasaurus" standing in for God, but not being religious I didn't read it that way (but you could). Children reading this will be able to enjoy it for the entertaining story it is, while also seeing a bigger picture. It's a story that makes an impression, but isn't heavy-handed or lecturing or do-goody. Know what I mean? Kids don't respond well to that anyway.

Children will connect well with Ernest, who is proud of himself for taking a bath without being told, and who does harmless pranks. They will enjoy reading about a year in Ernest's life, and getting to know him. And if anything, it will teach kids that it's okay to play, that you should try to be good and helpful and considerate, but if you mess up nothing bad's going to happen. Your life won't be - shouldn't be, if you have decent parents - ruined. (Sadly, not every child has the freedom to be a child that Ernest does.) Being a child is about learning, in more ways than one, and I've never thought that placing adult responsibilities - with adult repercussions and punishments - on children is at all useful, or teaches them anything but to be scared and anxious or that they're bad and that's that. At first glance, Dear Santasaurus is pure silly fun, but at its heart it's good, solid storytelling that, if nothing else, will secretly reassure kids that there's nothing wrong with being a kid.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.

to see Stacy McAnulty's guest post as she shares her "12 days of Christmas in picture books" and a cookie recipe!]]> 3.85 2013 Dear Santasaurus
author: Stacy McAnulty
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.85
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/12/07
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: autographed, picture-book, childrens, review-copy, 2013
review:
Ernest B Spinosaurus isn't wasting any time telling Santasaurus what he wants for Christmas: he writes his first letter to Santasaurus on the first of January and continues to write throughout the year. And he's determined to stay on Santasaurus' Nice List! Through Ernest's letters, at once hopeful and cheeky, we get to know this young dinosaur, about his friend Ty, his little sister Amber, and his desire for a Jurassic Turbo Scooter X9. He wants to stay on Santasaurus' "nice" list, and keeps up a steady stream of letters partly to explain away his naughtiness.

Ernest may be a dinosaur, but really he's a typical young boy that children (and their parents) will be able to relate to easily. Coupled with Jef Kaminsky's cartoon-like illustrations, this book reminded me a lot of children's television shows. Granted, the ones I've started letting my two-year-old watch (yes, it's come to that, there's only so long you can hold out!) are predominately British and a mix of fancy 3D CGI and old-style animation a la Peppa Pig, but they all tend to have one thing in common: using animals (like pigs or bees) or mythological creatures (like fairies or elves) or fictional characters (like robots or aliens) to make everyday stories more interesting, as well as to show a universality to human stories. Children's books are, likewise, often used to help dispel the classic "us vs. them" dichotomy that seems to rise in children instinctually, and I do find the books to be less obvious than the TV shows (and I have zero guilt in letting my child read books!).

Dear Santasaurus is a sweet, funny and very entertaining book, a picture book for older children. It was too long and too advanced for my boy, who doesn't really remember his first two Christmas' and is only just getting his head around the typical Christmas symbols: Santa etc. The concept of naughty and nice, or of writing to Santa, these are a bit too abstract for him yet. The story itself has lovely context jokes where the illustrations play off the text - and vice versa - in really fun ways, but likewise my boy is too young yet to get any of the humour, or even really understand the situations or what Ernest is really saying in his letters. It's one I will have to wait a couple more years before getting out again to read to him, which isn't a bad thing. If your child is five or older, they will get a lot out of this.

Here's a taste:

April 1
Dear Santasaurus,
For Christmas, I want rainbow underwear with white polka dots. Seven hundred pairs of underwear. And Ty wants a thousand pairs of socks. That's it. No toys. No scooter.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus
PS: Just kidding. APRIL FOOL'S DAY!! Ha ha ha.




April 2
Dear Santasaurus,
Yesterday's letter was a joke. You knew that, right? I do NOT want seven hundred pairs of underwear for Christmas. I don't want any underwear. I want the Jurassic Turbo Scooter X(.
Please, please, please do not bring me any underwear.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus
PS: Ty doesn't want socks, either.




May 13
Dear Santasaurus,
Today, I scored two soccer goals (one for my team, one for the other team). I ate all my dinner (except for what dropped on the floor). I even helped Amber take her first steps. So let's forget about yesterday's mess with the glitter glue, paint, and Dad's toothbrush. Besides, Mom sure did like the Mother's Day card I made with my own claws.
I've been thinking about my Christmas list. I want the Sea Serpent Blue Jurassic Turbo Scooter X9. I also want a Raging Raptor action figure.
Please.
Your friend,
Ernest B Spinosaurus


The illustrations are bold, colourful and lively, and don't simply echo the text but rather show another side to the story, a kind of "what really happened" side to it. They're fresh and fun and really help with the whole book's festive, exciting, cheerful vibe. And what was really nice, especially for a Christmas picture book, was the fact that there was no in-your-face, saccharine moral at the end. Ernest got the Christmas present he wanted, and was really really happy. The point of the story isn't about good deeds and impressing on kids any kind of pressure to be something they're not; it's about kids being kids, and enjoying their childhood, and striving and trying without weighty repercussions or negative consequences. You could read this as "Santasaurus" standing in for God, but not being religious I didn't read it that way (but you could). Children reading this will be able to enjoy it for the entertaining story it is, while also seeing a bigger picture. It's a story that makes an impression, but isn't heavy-handed or lecturing or do-goody. Know what I mean? Kids don't respond well to that anyway.

Children will connect well with Ernest, who is proud of himself for taking a bath without being told, and who does harmless pranks. They will enjoy reading about a year in Ernest's life, and getting to know him. And if anything, it will teach kids that it's okay to play, that you should try to be good and helpful and considerate, but if you mess up nothing bad's going to happen. Your life won't be - shouldn't be, if you have decent parents - ruined. (Sadly, not every child has the freedom to be a child that Ernest does.) Being a child is about learning, in more ways than one, and I've never thought that placing adult responsibilities - with adult repercussions and punishments - on children is at all useful, or teaches them anything but to be scared and anxious or that they're bad and that's that. At first glance, Dear Santasaurus is pure silly fun, but at its heart it's good, solid storytelling that, if nothing else, will secretly reassure kids that there's nothing wrong with being a kid.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.

to see Stacy McAnulty's guest post as she shares her "12 days of Christmas in picture books" and a cookie recipe!
]]> <![CDATA[Awakening The Warriors (Darkon Warrior series, #1.5)]]> 17693430 Set in the world of the bestselling title Legend Beyond the Stars, an erotic novella about two warriors who have lost the ability to desire, and the human woman who is about to wake them up.

Fran must have been crazy to leave her ordinary, safe life and volunteer as a colonist to terra-form a new earth. Now she is trapped in a prison cell on an alien planet a zillion miles from home and bound for a hideous death in notorious research chambers.

She has one chance of awaken the long dormant sexual urges of the Darkon Warriors shackled in the next cell.

It’s a desperate job, but someone has to do it.]]> 54 S.E. Gilchrist 0857990470 Shannon 2
Fran isn't one for sitting down and taking it, though, and she riles up the others to think of escape and freedom. One of her cellmates has an idea, but it requires Fran's willing participation. The warriors are Darkons, and while at the moment they're barely surviving, if they are awakened, sexually, then they become almost invincible. They would certainly be their best bet at escape.

There aren't many options available, and as one of the only human females there, it's up to Fran to awaken the warriors. At the time, she's thinking mostly of escaping this hell-hole, but all too soon the reality of what she's unwittingly committed herself to becomes clear.

I have to be clear: I haven't read Legend Beyond the Stars, the full-length story that begins this series and establishes the whole premise, and I think my reading of this novella suffered for it. The problem was that this was too short a story - too short to explain things, establish anything, create a clear context or even develop the characters. I feel a bit unfair, but all I can do is speak of my experience reading this novella.

While Fran's situation is explained, albeit in short detail, the broader context is missing. There's no explanation for why her ship was captured and all the colonisers imprisoned, or why any of the other females were locked up either. I don't think this would be explained in the first book. There're hints that there is a major inter-galactic war going on, when one of the aliens mentions that the Darkons are resisting and the Elite Guards of Olman are planning a major strike against the Darkon home world. But nothing is explained, and without the right context the scenario of Awakening the Warriors didn't quite hold up. I would hope that the first book fills in these gaps.

But let's take this as the erotic space-opera novella it is. It has a conventional, simple plot structure divided into three short sections: the prison, where Fran sexually awakens the warriors, and from which they flee amid much gunfire; on board the ship they escape on; and the last stage on the space station where Fran and Margaret are nearly captured again. There's not a whole lot to it, which made me think that I prefer longer stories to novellas. But mostly I was disappointed by how formulaic it was. I've read quite a few stories generally classified as Paranormal Romance, and this shared many of the same tropes. The Darkon Warriors could have been alpha vampires, or werewolves. The two Darkon who survive and are awakened by Fran are called Jarrell and Quain. Jarrell is younger, sweeter; Quain is older and very alpha - macho, even.

Since this is a novella, there isn't all that much sex in it - two scenes only, though with two men involved it feels like more. Again, the condensed nature of the novella format made the lusty writing come across as a wee bit silly. I often had to stop myself from rolling my eyes and work at going along with it. Again, the problem with a novella is how squished it feels, how rushed the sexual attraction and progression becomes, and how dependent the story is on romance conventions and familiar language. If you had enjoyed the first book and got into the world-building and set-up, it would be easier to enjoy this for its own sake and not worry about any of these quibbles. I didn't realise it was a sequel or a novella until I started reading it, but for all my criticisms, there were enjoyable elements to this story.

Fran is likeable, she rises to the occasion and becomes a strong heroine. She's got a sense of humour, and she doesn't over-think things or get self-indulgent in her thoughts and reflections. The writing is capable and flows well, and regardless of how corny you might find some of the lines, they are fun and Gilchrist made an effort to add a dash of originality. I found myself more curious about the world and its politics then this short story allowed, and rather wish there was a more serious, lengthy story available that really developed it. It makes me both interested in reading Legend Beyond the Stars but also wary, afraid that my questions won't be explained and I'll come out of it even more confused and frustrated.

Aside from anything else, this is a snappy and exciting story. The fast pace and novella format don't allow for dull moments, and the sex is quite steamy. Unfortunately, the Darkon warriors are under-developed as characters, and come across as mere muscle-men-with-demanding-cocks. Like any other intelligent woman, I find that sexy men are only sexy when they have personality and some brains, too. So overall, this was a frustrating mix of good and unsatisfying, exciting and disappointing.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.]]> 3.30 2013 Awakening The Warriors (Darkon Warrior series, #1.5)
author: S.E. Gilchrist
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.30
book published: 2013
rating: 2
read at: 2013/11/18
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: novella, netgalley, review-copy, romance, sci-fi, e-book, 2013, aww2013
review:
It's the year 6036, and thirty-three year old Fran is regretting leaving her comfortable, if dull, life in Adelaide for a colonising expedition in space. Her ship has been captured, she's separated from almost all of her fellow space-settlers, and the future looks dire. Locked up in a bare cell with a number of other females from different species on the planet of Olman, Fran can only keep young Margaret company as they listen to the sounds of alien warriors being tortured in a nearby cell.

Fran isn't one for sitting down and taking it, though, and she riles up the others to think of escape and freedom. One of her cellmates has an idea, but it requires Fran's willing participation. The warriors are Darkons, and while at the moment they're barely surviving, if they are awakened, sexually, then they become almost invincible. They would certainly be their best bet at escape.

There aren't many options available, and as one of the only human females there, it's up to Fran to awaken the warriors. At the time, she's thinking mostly of escaping this hell-hole, but all too soon the reality of what she's unwittingly committed herself to becomes clear.

I have to be clear: I haven't read Legend Beyond the Stars, the full-length story that begins this series and establishes the whole premise, and I think my reading of this novella suffered for it. The problem was that this was too short a story - too short to explain things, establish anything, create a clear context or even develop the characters. I feel a bit unfair, but all I can do is speak of my experience reading this novella.

While Fran's situation is explained, albeit in short detail, the broader context is missing. There's no explanation for why her ship was captured and all the colonisers imprisoned, or why any of the other females were locked up either. I don't think this would be explained in the first book. There're hints that there is a major inter-galactic war going on, when one of the aliens mentions that the Darkons are resisting and the Elite Guards of Olman are planning a major strike against the Darkon home world. But nothing is explained, and without the right context the scenario of Awakening the Warriors didn't quite hold up. I would hope that the first book fills in these gaps.

But let's take this as the erotic space-opera novella it is. It has a conventional, simple plot structure divided into three short sections: the prison, where Fran sexually awakens the warriors, and from which they flee amid much gunfire; on board the ship they escape on; and the last stage on the space station where Fran and Margaret are nearly captured again. There's not a whole lot to it, which made me think that I prefer longer stories to novellas. But mostly I was disappointed by how formulaic it was. I've read quite a few stories generally classified as Paranormal Romance, and this shared many of the same tropes. The Darkon Warriors could have been alpha vampires, or werewolves. The two Darkon who survive and are awakened by Fran are called Jarrell and Quain. Jarrell is younger, sweeter; Quain is older and very alpha - macho, even.

Since this is a novella, there isn't all that much sex in it - two scenes only, though with two men involved it feels like more. Again, the condensed nature of the novella format made the lusty writing come across as a wee bit silly. I often had to stop myself from rolling my eyes and work at going along with it. Again, the problem with a novella is how squished it feels, how rushed the sexual attraction and progression becomes, and how dependent the story is on romance conventions and familiar language. If you had enjoyed the first book and got into the world-building and set-up, it would be easier to enjoy this for its own sake and not worry about any of these quibbles. I didn't realise it was a sequel or a novella until I started reading it, but for all my criticisms, there were enjoyable elements to this story.

Fran is likeable, she rises to the occasion and becomes a strong heroine. She's got a sense of humour, and she doesn't over-think things or get self-indulgent in her thoughts and reflections. The writing is capable and flows well, and regardless of how corny you might find some of the lines, they are fun and Gilchrist made an effort to add a dash of originality. I found myself more curious about the world and its politics then this short story allowed, and rather wish there was a more serious, lengthy story available that really developed it. It makes me both interested in reading Legend Beyond the Stars but also wary, afraid that my questions won't be explained and I'll come out of it even more confused and frustrated.

Aside from anything else, this is a snappy and exciting story. The fast pace and novella format don't allow for dull moments, and the sex is quite steamy. Unfortunately, the Darkon warriors are under-developed as characters, and come across as mere muscle-men-with-demanding-cocks. Like any other intelligent woman, I find that sexy men are only sexy when they have personality and some brains, too. So overall, this was a frustrating mix of good and unsatisfying, exciting and disappointing.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> Right As Rain 18334683
Hiding from a broken heart, Mackenna returns to the family farm in Australia. Then, out of the blue Adam returns. He’s made the trip Down Under to visit his sick grandfather and to track down Mackenna.

When he turns up on her doorstep to profess his love and find out why she ran out on him, Mackenna finds herself questioning his love for her...]]> 387 Tricia Stringer 1743564651 Shannon 4
So when she wakes up after their first night together to find him gone with no explanation, she feels angry, upset, duped, foolish. She cuts her trip short and heads home, intending to put the whole thing behind her and concentrate on her plans for the family farm.

Yet nothing's quite right when she gets home. The place is deserted - or almost so. She meets Cam, the man her parents have hired to help with all the farm work, treating the house like his own and with a smug, cocky grin to go with it. Her brother, Patrick, is there too - eight years younger and with a successful job in Adelaide and no interest in farming, she's surprised to see him there, until he explains that their dad had a heart attack.

Lyle's sudden health change has had an impact on his wife Louise, too. She takes them to get new wills made, and overrides Lyle's objections to how she wants the property left. Because even though Mackenna is the one who is passionate about the farm and knows how to work it, Louise has decided that it must be left to Patrick, that it is his right as the son to inherit the land, that he can learn to be a farmer if he's given the chance. Louise's conviction about what is best for her children extends to meddling in Mackenna's love life.

Mackenna's old childhood friend and neighbour, Hugh, is back in the area, staying with his parents while he takes a temporary job in town. He doesn't intend to stay, though: he's already accepted a job in Canada to work on a special research project, and is just filling in time. But both his mother and Mackenna's are hoping the two will be more than friends. So much so that, when Adam arrives out of the blue, having tracked Mackenna down, Louise does what she can to discourage the relationship between them.

As Mackenna works hard to get the Woolly Swamp Gatehouse up and running, with Adam often helping her in the kitchen to make the group dinners a success, certain things about her family and what's going on at the farm begin to sink in. Her suspicions about Cam grow, but her understanding of her parents' plans for the farm that she loves so much come as a complete shock, and threaten to destroy everything she's worked for.

I am learning not to expect romance from these novels set in rural Australia, published by the big romance publisher, Harlequin. This is an imprint, Mira, and Mira doesn't do "bodice rippers"; they publish everything from historical fiction to fantasy. If you're expecting a romance from Right as Rain, you will be disappointed. There is a romantic relationship woven into the plot, but it's not central to the story as it would be in a Romance novel; in fact, it's almost - almost - superfluous to the plot. This is very much a story of one woman's love for the land, and her struggle against gender stereotypes and out-of-date traditions that only make people unhappier than before. As such, it was a highly successful story and a real pleasure to read.

Mackenna is close to her father, and knows how to run a sheep farm just as much as she knows how to run a kitchen and prepare a four-course meal. She's a skilled chef with a vision, a strong, hard worker with close ties to the family property, and she has no idea her mother wants to "set her free", as it were, of the burden of living on a farm. Louise, like most people who meddle, thinks she's doing what's best for her children but is blind to the obvious fact that Patrick doesn't want the farm and Mack does. This rather callous machination on Louise's part definitely adds tension to the story, far more so than any other plot development: from almost the beginning you read this book waiting, waiting for the blow-up, for the day when Mack finds out. The tension exists not because of the anticipated family blow-up, but from the scarier possibility that Lyle (and Louise) might die before Mack finds out, before the wills can be changed.

While the novel might lack a more traditional plot structure and focus - it's not about Mackenna finding love, it's not about a mystery or a crime or anything so concrete - it was a nice change to read a story that felt more true-to-life than one that was more tightly plotted and (possibly) predictable. I was never quite sure where the story was going, or if one thread among several would resolve into the main plot. It was, instead, a slice of life on a farm, rich with realistic detail and vibrating with life in all its complications. Having grown up on a sheep farm myself (albeit a much smaller one), the setting was familiar and comforting - I do love reading stories that involve sheep! I don't know half of what Mackenna knows, of course; like Patrick, I love the land and I enjoy helping but I couldn't take on a whole farm and be a farmer.

Mack's perspective isn't the only one we get in this story, though. We also get Louise's perspective, and Hugh's. This has an interesting effect on the overall story and how we read it. Louise's perspective gives us great insight into her thought processes and motivations, her convictions and her reasons, which really helps to round out the story and flesh out the family dynamics. The inclusion of Hugh's is perhaps a bit more odd, but actually it works quite well. If we didn't get Hugh's chapters, the character wouldn't have been superficial and obscure. As it is, having Hugh's perspective not only helps to flesh out his character, but helps to flesh out the town and the overall setting, too. It adds an extra dimension to the whole neighbourhood, and Mack's history. I grew very fond of Hugh. (Incidentally, it was amusing to find the two love interests in this book were called Adam and Hugh - my husband is Adam and my son is Hugh!)

Perhaps because he doesn't get to share his perspective, Adam is a bit of an unknown entity in comparison. Giving Hugh his own voice makes him seem a stronger contender for romantic interest, while leaving Adam less well fleshed-out makes him harder to get to know. Yet, I didn't mind it all. I liked the sense of mystery that clung to Adam a bit longer, and I found his character fleshing out enough to make his chemistry with Mack believable. Too much delving into Adam's character and backstory would have made the whole book over-crowded and really lack focus. Instead, the novel concentrates on Mack: she is the pivotal centre around which everything else rotates.

There are some lovely digs at traditional stereotypes in this book. I loved what Stringer did with the character of Yasmine, Patrick's girlfriend. When she turns up, Mack sees a thin woman wearing layers of black, who doesn't eat meat and seems too fragile and soft to handle the realities of farm life. And for quite a while, this mostly baseless pre-judgement seems to hold true, until Mack learns the truth and her assumptions about Yasmine are turned completely on their head.

And of course the tradition of leaving land and property in general to the eldest son is put under the microscope, in satisfying ways. The family dynamics and the sense of building mistrust - encouraged by Cam covering up his mistakes by pointing the figure at Patrick, which in turn encourages Mack to see him as almost incompetent on the farm - add to the building tension and the sense that something is terribly wrong. Out of balance. Just not right. I've always thought that blindly following traditions for the simple reason that they are tradition, is rather stupid and sometimes even harmful. Ah the benefits of an education that teaches you to question and critique things! Makes it hard for me to understand the comfort (I suppose it is comfort) others find in doing things a certain way, simply because that's "how it's done." Stringer successfully makes Louise both believable and understandable: even though I couldn't condone her actions at all, I could understand, even empathise with her reasoning. She is using her own experiences, and an unspoken resentment, to justify her motives.

And then there is Cam. Another character whom we never learn all that much about, which makes us much more suspicious about him than Mack is. In fact, I was surprised at Mack's naiveté in general. She doesn't pick up on her mother's plans, that I can understand since she's not privy to Louise's thoughts like we are. But interestingly, she doesn't make assumptions about Cam like she does about Yasmine, for instance. She's mildly puzzled about him and where he fits in, but even when he keeps "borrowing" the farm truck to do jobs on the weekend, with ready excuses as to why he can't use his own ute, she doesn't think much of it. Maybe it's just me, but alarm bells rang in my gut as soon as he appeared on the scene. He creeped me out. Which was perfect really: the story wouldn't have been as solid or entertaining if the Cam angle hadn't been included. It tied in neatly with the Patrick story-line, and the way the action played out at the end helped wake Mack up to her feelings for Adam. As my husband would say, "Well played. Well played."

This was the first time I'd read a book by Tricia Stringer, but I don't think it will be the last. The story may not be as tightly plot-driven or as fast-paced as it could have been, and the romance angle may come across as a bit last-minute, but I still really enjoyed it, especially once I stopped expecting it to be a romance. Or a romance in the traditional sense. Right as Rain provides fascinating insight into the running of a family farm, and explores the constraints of honouring traditions and gender stereotypes and their affect on people. It has all that rich detail and fleshing-out that I love in stories, and a strong sense of place. But it is the characters and their complex dynamics that really makes this story both interesting and emotionally engaging.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 4.05 2013 Right As Rain
author: Tricia Stringer
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.05
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/12/11
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, australian-women-writers, romance, rural, 2013, aww2013, fiction
review:
Thirty-year-old Mackenna Birch is on her first holiday in years, a trip to New Zealand to research sheep breeding programs. A chef who grew up at Woolly Swamp, a sheep farm in South Australia, Mackenna has been working with her dad, Lyle, to remake the farm into a real boutique meat business. She even has plans to turn the old, uninhabited homestead into a gatehouse restaurant and tasting room, to showcase the Woolly Swamp lamb. But the trip has brought an extra unexpected pleasure for Mackenna when she meets Adam. Another chef, though an itinerant one, Adam is the first man Mackenna has really, truly clicked with in a long time, melding friendship with passion.

So when she wakes up after their first night together to find him gone with no explanation, she feels angry, upset, duped, foolish. She cuts her trip short and heads home, intending to put the whole thing behind her and concentrate on her plans for the family farm.

Yet nothing's quite right when she gets home. The place is deserted - or almost so. She meets Cam, the man her parents have hired to help with all the farm work, treating the house like his own and with a smug, cocky grin to go with it. Her brother, Patrick, is there too - eight years younger and with a successful job in Adelaide and no interest in farming, she's surprised to see him there, until he explains that their dad had a heart attack.

Lyle's sudden health change has had an impact on his wife Louise, too. She takes them to get new wills made, and overrides Lyle's objections to how she wants the property left. Because even though Mackenna is the one who is passionate about the farm and knows how to work it, Louise has decided that it must be left to Patrick, that it is his right as the son to inherit the land, that he can learn to be a farmer if he's given the chance. Louise's conviction about what is best for her children extends to meddling in Mackenna's love life.

Mackenna's old childhood friend and neighbour, Hugh, is back in the area, staying with his parents while he takes a temporary job in town. He doesn't intend to stay, though: he's already accepted a job in Canada to work on a special research project, and is just filling in time. But both his mother and Mackenna's are hoping the two will be more than friends. So much so that, when Adam arrives out of the blue, having tracked Mackenna down, Louise does what she can to discourage the relationship between them.

As Mackenna works hard to get the Woolly Swamp Gatehouse up and running, with Adam often helping her in the kitchen to make the group dinners a success, certain things about her family and what's going on at the farm begin to sink in. Her suspicions about Cam grow, but her understanding of her parents' plans for the farm that she loves so much come as a complete shock, and threaten to destroy everything she's worked for.

I am learning not to expect romance from these novels set in rural Australia, published by the big romance publisher, Harlequin. This is an imprint, Mira, and Mira doesn't do "bodice rippers"; they publish everything from historical fiction to fantasy. If you're expecting a romance from Right as Rain, you will be disappointed. There is a romantic relationship woven into the plot, but it's not central to the story as it would be in a Romance novel; in fact, it's almost - almost - superfluous to the plot. This is very much a story of one woman's love for the land, and her struggle against gender stereotypes and out-of-date traditions that only make people unhappier than before. As such, it was a highly successful story and a real pleasure to read.

Mackenna is close to her father, and knows how to run a sheep farm just as much as she knows how to run a kitchen and prepare a four-course meal. She's a skilled chef with a vision, a strong, hard worker with close ties to the family property, and she has no idea her mother wants to "set her free", as it were, of the burden of living on a farm. Louise, like most people who meddle, thinks she's doing what's best for her children but is blind to the obvious fact that Patrick doesn't want the farm and Mack does. This rather callous machination on Louise's part definitely adds tension to the story, far more so than any other plot development: from almost the beginning you read this book waiting, waiting for the blow-up, for the day when Mack finds out. The tension exists not because of the anticipated family blow-up, but from the scarier possibility that Lyle (and Louise) might die before Mack finds out, before the wills can be changed.

While the novel might lack a more traditional plot structure and focus - it's not about Mackenna finding love, it's not about a mystery or a crime or anything so concrete - it was a nice change to read a story that felt more true-to-life than one that was more tightly plotted and (possibly) predictable. I was never quite sure where the story was going, or if one thread among several would resolve into the main plot. It was, instead, a slice of life on a farm, rich with realistic detail and vibrating with life in all its complications. Having grown up on a sheep farm myself (albeit a much smaller one), the setting was familiar and comforting - I do love reading stories that involve sheep! I don't know half of what Mackenna knows, of course; like Patrick, I love the land and I enjoy helping but I couldn't take on a whole farm and be a farmer.

Mack's perspective isn't the only one we get in this story, though. We also get Louise's perspective, and Hugh's. This has an interesting effect on the overall story and how we read it. Louise's perspective gives us great insight into her thought processes and motivations, her convictions and her reasons, which really helps to round out the story and flesh out the family dynamics. The inclusion of Hugh's is perhaps a bit more odd, but actually it works quite well. If we didn't get Hugh's chapters, the character wouldn't have been superficial and obscure. As it is, having Hugh's perspective not only helps to flesh out his character, but helps to flesh out the town and the overall setting, too. It adds an extra dimension to the whole neighbourhood, and Mack's history. I grew very fond of Hugh. (Incidentally, it was amusing to find the two love interests in this book were called Adam and Hugh - my husband is Adam and my son is Hugh!)

Perhaps because he doesn't get to share his perspective, Adam is a bit of an unknown entity in comparison. Giving Hugh his own voice makes him seem a stronger contender for romantic interest, while leaving Adam less well fleshed-out makes him harder to get to know. Yet, I didn't mind it all. I liked the sense of mystery that clung to Adam a bit longer, and I found his character fleshing out enough to make his chemistry with Mack believable. Too much delving into Adam's character and backstory would have made the whole book over-crowded and really lack focus. Instead, the novel concentrates on Mack: she is the pivotal centre around which everything else rotates.

There are some lovely digs at traditional stereotypes in this book. I loved what Stringer did with the character of Yasmine, Patrick's girlfriend. When she turns up, Mack sees a thin woman wearing layers of black, who doesn't eat meat and seems too fragile and soft to handle the realities of farm life. And for quite a while, this mostly baseless pre-judgement seems to hold true, until Mack learns the truth and her assumptions about Yasmine are turned completely on their head.

And of course the tradition of leaving land and property in general to the eldest son is put under the microscope, in satisfying ways. The family dynamics and the sense of building mistrust - encouraged by Cam covering up his mistakes by pointing the figure at Patrick, which in turn encourages Mack to see him as almost incompetent on the farm - add to the building tension and the sense that something is terribly wrong. Out of balance. Just not right. I've always thought that blindly following traditions for the simple reason that they are tradition, is rather stupid and sometimes even harmful. Ah the benefits of an education that teaches you to question and critique things! Makes it hard for me to understand the comfort (I suppose it is comfort) others find in doing things a certain way, simply because that's "how it's done." Stringer successfully makes Louise both believable and understandable: even though I couldn't condone her actions at all, I could understand, even empathise with her reasoning. She is using her own experiences, and an unspoken resentment, to justify her motives.

And then there is Cam. Another character whom we never learn all that much about, which makes us much more suspicious about him than Mack is. In fact, I was surprised at Mack's naiveté in general. She doesn't pick up on her mother's plans, that I can understand since she's not privy to Louise's thoughts like we are. But interestingly, she doesn't make assumptions about Cam like she does about Yasmine, for instance. She's mildly puzzled about him and where he fits in, but even when he keeps "borrowing" the farm truck to do jobs on the weekend, with ready excuses as to why he can't use his own ute, she doesn't think much of it. Maybe it's just me, but alarm bells rang in my gut as soon as he appeared on the scene. He creeped me out. Which was perfect really: the story wouldn't have been as solid or entertaining if the Cam angle hadn't been included. It tied in neatly with the Patrick story-line, and the way the action played out at the end helped wake Mack up to her feelings for Adam. As my husband would say, "Well played. Well played."

This was the first time I'd read a book by Tricia Stringer, but I don't think it will be the last. The story may not be as tightly plot-driven or as fast-paced as it could have been, and the romance angle may come across as a bit last-minute, but I still really enjoyed it, especially once I stopped expecting it to be a romance. Or a romance in the traditional sense. Right as Rain provides fascinating insight into the running of a family farm, and explores the constraints of honouring traditions and gender stereotypes and their affect on people. It has all that rich detail and fleshing-out that I love in stories, and a strong sense of place. But it is the characters and their complex dynamics that really makes this story both interesting and emotionally engaging.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> <![CDATA[Unravelled: Two Wars. Two Affairs. One Marriage.]]> 18334144 When WWII erupts a few years later, Edward is quickly caught up in the world of training espionage agents, while Ann counsels grieving women and copes with the daily threats facing those she loves. And once again, secrets and war threaten the bonds of marriage.
With events unfolding in Canada, France and England, UNRAVELLED is a compelling novel of love, duty and sacrifice set amongst the turmoil of two world wars.]]> 442 M.K. Tod 0991967003 Shannon 2
All that changes when Edward receives an invitation to a memorial ceremony for the battle at Vimy Ridge, France. The invitation not only brings back vivid memories that torment him daily, it also resurrects a past lost love and the equally vivid memories of the passionate affair he had with a Frenchwoman, Helene. He hasn't seen her in years and she never answered his letters, but his decision to go to the ceremony despite the pain of his recollections is partly influenced by his secret desire to see her once again.

Helene is at the ceremony, and in a flash Edward is taken back in time to the happy, passion-filled times spent with her. Even though both are now married and have children, they embark on a week-long affair that, when she learns of it, breaks Ann and nearly destroys her marriage.

There are two parallel sides to this story: war, and marriage. Or pain and love. It's about the people who fight, and the people who are left behind. Both groups are scarred and have much to recover from. The details Tod includes in Edward's flashbacks to WWI are realistic and gruesome, and in the matter-of-fact style - not detached but stripped of emotion - these scenes become even more tragic and awful.

Despite the cold, Edward sweated in his greatcoat. Mud oozed with each step, slowing his pace. His foot slipped. He grabbed at a section of chicken wire attached to the retaining wall to steady himself. A few yards ahead, a pool of water lay in front of a tunnel entrance. While slogging through the water, an explosion ripped the sky, spraying earth and shrapnel. Large clods of dirt stuck to his helmet.

Just inside the tunnel the ground wobbled beneath his feet. Struggling to keep his balance, he realized he was standing on two dead soldiers. He shuddered but kept going, barely able to see in the tunnel's gloom. Panting, he slowed his pace to avoid falling; not one second could be wasted. Outside, the bursting curtain of steel continued its deadly assault.


Contrasted to scenes like the one above are those that are filled with passion and heartache and the weight of a different kind of responsibility: that toward your loved ones, your marriage, your future. Both Edward and Ann must face this kind of responsibility, and make decisions around the kind of future they want to have. The marriage is strained, almost breaks, not once but twice. The second time it is Ann herself who, feeling isolated, lonely, forgotten and unloved by her husband when, during WWII, he becomes involved in Canadian espionage and secrets once again divide them, strays from the commitments she made to Edward and her children. Tod handles the grey areas nicely, and sympathetically explores these flaws in human nature - flaws that, ultimately, speak to our very human need to be loved and to feel alive.

Everything he had been brought up to believe would condemn him for such behaviour, but being with Helene had felt like finding an oasis when he was about to collapse from thirst. Now, looking back, his actions felt like those of a stranger. He felt like his life had unravelled, his careful plans and hard work and dedication lost in a moment of memory.


The years had taught her that marriage grew quiet over time, leaving a hum of comfort and familiarity mixed with bouts of frustration and disinterest. Edward's secrets and disappearances had fostered anger. Anger had obscured her path. With war grinding on and on, she had stopped believing in the sacredness of their lifelong commitment and allowed her moral code to fail. Ann knew she had to stop blaming her husband. One thing was clear: Edward needed her. Perhaps more than she needed him.


Unravelled is solidly written with an eye to historical accuracy and exploring the ups and downs of marriage, but I also found the writing to be a bit pedestrian. At times, in describing simple actions like clearing the table or moving around a room, it was a bit wordy. As in, some actions don't need to be described because they're inherent in the larger action, such as picking something up to move it. Really, though, my main struggle with this was my failure to connect properly, emotionally, with the characters. Tod's background in historical research seems to overshadow her writing in general: characters and their development come across too impersonally, with their feelings and thoughts told to me rather than shown.

I also struggled a bit with the war scenes, not the gory battle scenes but the behind-the-scenes planning and discussion etc. These scenes were a bit stale for me and simply described things; at best they were relevant in how showing how Edward's work was affecting him and thus his marriage, but at worst they seemed lacking in relevance to the overall story. I'm sure they could have been worked in better; it just seemed like I was reading two different stories: one about a couple and their marriage, which was quite interesting; the other about World War I and World War II and Canada's involvement in its successes and failures. I'm quite sure other readers would have felt the two meshed together well, but perhaps because I wasn't able to fully connect with the main characters - they were never quite fleshed out enough for me - I failed to connect with the war scenes.

As far as the historical side is concerned, it would probably help to have a bit of background in it. I found it easy to follow the developments of WWII, at least, because I had studied Canada's involvement in that war in order to teach it to grade 8 students a few years ago. I did find that at least half the time, Tod wasn't quite able to integrate these details into the narrative, choosing instead to simple tell us some basic facts about what was happening. It felt a bit simplistic at times, and reinforced my confusion about the main focus of the novel.

There was plenty to like and enjoy in Unravelled, but sadly the novel - in its parts and as a whole - just didn't quite work for me. I was most engrossed in scenes with Ann and Edward trying to work out their marriage, but even then I didn't feel like it went much farther than the surface of things, no doubt because so much is told to me rather than shown. That made it a disappointing read, overall, despite its merits.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book via ]]> 4.00 2013 Unravelled: Two Wars. Two Affairs. One Marriage.
author: M.K. Tod
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.00
book published: 2013
rating: 2
read at: 2013/11/07
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: france-book-tours, review-copy, historical-fiction, e-book, ww1, ww2, 2013
review:
This finely-researched novel takes place between 1935 and 1944 in Toronto, France and London. Edward Jamieson was in Signals in World War I and fought at Vimy Ridge; since the war he's suffered from post-traumatic shock disorder - or Shell Shock as they used to call it. He's a quiet, fairly reserved man who keeps things locked inside, though with the help of a particular doctor recommended to him by his friend from the war, Eric, the nightmares have mostly ended. After returning to Toronto he met and married Ann and they had two children, Emily and Alex, born close together. Edward works at the phone company and Ann runs the house and raises the children. They're happy and content.

All that changes when Edward receives an invitation to a memorial ceremony for the battle at Vimy Ridge, France. The invitation not only brings back vivid memories that torment him daily, it also resurrects a past lost love and the equally vivid memories of the passionate affair he had with a Frenchwoman, Helene. He hasn't seen her in years and she never answered his letters, but his decision to go to the ceremony despite the pain of his recollections is partly influenced by his secret desire to see her once again.

Helene is at the ceremony, and in a flash Edward is taken back in time to the happy, passion-filled times spent with her. Even though both are now married and have children, they embark on a week-long affair that, when she learns of it, breaks Ann and nearly destroys her marriage.

There are two parallel sides to this story: war, and marriage. Or pain and love. It's about the people who fight, and the people who are left behind. Both groups are scarred and have much to recover from. The details Tod includes in Edward's flashbacks to WWI are realistic and gruesome, and in the matter-of-fact style - not detached but stripped of emotion - these scenes become even more tragic and awful.

Despite the cold, Edward sweated in his greatcoat. Mud oozed with each step, slowing his pace. His foot slipped. He grabbed at a section of chicken wire attached to the retaining wall to steady himself. A few yards ahead, a pool of water lay in front of a tunnel entrance. While slogging through the water, an explosion ripped the sky, spraying earth and shrapnel. Large clods of dirt stuck to his helmet.

Just inside the tunnel the ground wobbled beneath his feet. Struggling to keep his balance, he realized he was standing on two dead soldiers. He shuddered but kept going, barely able to see in the tunnel's gloom. Panting, he slowed his pace to avoid falling; not one second could be wasted. Outside, the bursting curtain of steel continued its deadly assault.


Contrasted to scenes like the one above are those that are filled with passion and heartache and the weight of a different kind of responsibility: that toward your loved ones, your marriage, your future. Both Edward and Ann must face this kind of responsibility, and make decisions around the kind of future they want to have. The marriage is strained, almost breaks, not once but twice. The second time it is Ann herself who, feeling isolated, lonely, forgotten and unloved by her husband when, during WWII, he becomes involved in Canadian espionage and secrets once again divide them, strays from the commitments she made to Edward and her children. Tod handles the grey areas nicely, and sympathetically explores these flaws in human nature - flaws that, ultimately, speak to our very human need to be loved and to feel alive.

Everything he had been brought up to believe would condemn him for such behaviour, but being with Helene had felt like finding an oasis when he was about to collapse from thirst. Now, looking back, his actions felt like those of a stranger. He felt like his life had unravelled, his careful plans and hard work and dedication lost in a moment of memory.


The years had taught her that marriage grew quiet over time, leaving a hum of comfort and familiarity mixed with bouts of frustration and disinterest. Edward's secrets and disappearances had fostered anger. Anger had obscured her path. With war grinding on and on, she had stopped believing in the sacredness of their lifelong commitment and allowed her moral code to fail. Ann knew she had to stop blaming her husband. One thing was clear: Edward needed her. Perhaps more than she needed him.


Unravelled is solidly written with an eye to historical accuracy and exploring the ups and downs of marriage, but I also found the writing to be a bit pedestrian. At times, in describing simple actions like clearing the table or moving around a room, it was a bit wordy. As in, some actions don't need to be described because they're inherent in the larger action, such as picking something up to move it. Really, though, my main struggle with this was my failure to connect properly, emotionally, with the characters. Tod's background in historical research seems to overshadow her writing in general: characters and their development come across too impersonally, with their feelings and thoughts told to me rather than shown.

I also struggled a bit with the war scenes, not the gory battle scenes but the behind-the-scenes planning and discussion etc. These scenes were a bit stale for me and simply described things; at best they were relevant in how showing how Edward's work was affecting him and thus his marriage, but at worst they seemed lacking in relevance to the overall story. I'm sure they could have been worked in better; it just seemed like I was reading two different stories: one about a couple and their marriage, which was quite interesting; the other about World War I and World War II and Canada's involvement in its successes and failures. I'm quite sure other readers would have felt the two meshed together well, but perhaps because I wasn't able to fully connect with the main characters - they were never quite fleshed out enough for me - I failed to connect with the war scenes.

As far as the historical side is concerned, it would probably help to have a bit of background in it. I found it easy to follow the developments of WWII, at least, because I had studied Canada's involvement in that war in order to teach it to grade 8 students a few years ago. I did find that at least half the time, Tod wasn't quite able to integrate these details into the narrative, choosing instead to simple tell us some basic facts about what was happening. It felt a bit simplistic at times, and reinforced my confusion about the main focus of the novel.

There was plenty to like and enjoy in Unravelled, but sadly the novel - in its parts and as a whole - just didn't quite work for me. I was most engrossed in scenes with Ann and Edward trying to work out their marriage, but even then I didn't feel like it went much farther than the surface of things, no doubt because so much is told to me rather than shown. That made it a disappointing read, overall, despite its merits.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book via
]]> <![CDATA[The Bones of Paris (Harris Stuyvesant, #2)]]> 17262138 New York Times bestselling author Laurie R. King, beloved for her acclaimed Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes series, leads readers into the vibrant and sensual Paris of the Jazz Age—and reveals the darkest secrets of its denizens.

Paris, France: September 1929. For Harris Stuyvesant, the assignment is a private investigator’s dream—he’s getting paid to troll the cafés and bars of Montparnasse, looking for a pretty young woman. The American agent has a healthy appreciation for la vie de bohème, despite having worked for years at the U.S. Bureau of Investigation. The missing person in question is Philippa Crosby, a twenty-two year old from Boston who has been living in Paris, modeling and acting. Her family became alarmed when she stopped all communications, and Stuyvesant agreed to track her down. He wholly expects to find her in the arms of some up-and-coming artist, perhaps experimenting with the decadent lifestyle that is suddenly available on every rue and boulevard.
 
As Stuyvesant follows Philippa’s trail through the expatriate community of artists and writers, he finds that she is known to many of its famous—and infamous—inhabitants, from Shakespeare and Company’s Sylvia Beach to Ernest Hemingway to the Surrealist photographer Man Ray. But when the evidence leads Stuyvesant to the Théâtre du Grand-Guignol in Montmartre, his investigation takes a sharp, disturbing turn. At the Grand-Guignol, murder, insanity, and sexual perversion are all staged to shocking, brutal effect: depravity as art, savage human nature on stage.
 
Soon it becomes clear that one missing girl is a drop in the bucket. Here, amid the glittering lights of the cabarets, hides a monster whose artistic coup de grâce is to be rendered in blood. And Stuyvesant will have to descend into the darkest depths of perversion to find a killer . . . sifting through The Bones of Paris.]]> 412 Laurie R. King 0345531760 Shannon 4
Philippa - Pip - Crosby is twenty-two and hasn't been seen or heard from since March; it's now September. She went to France like many of her countrymen, to have a good time away from the family influence and the watchful eyes of her own society back home, and had slid into the Parisian art world as so many do. Working as a model and aspiring actress, Pip Crosby's name comes up in connection to some important and distinguished figures in Surrealist art - like photographer and painter, Man Ray (from America); little mole-like Hyacinthe "Didi" Moreau who makes display boxes of carefully-placed odds and ends, many of them disturbing; and Le Comte Dominic Charmentier, an aristocratic war hero who lost his entire family and now puts his energies into patronising Surrealist artists and managing the Theatre Grand-Guignol, which puts on intensely disturbing, graphic and violent plays with intervals of slapstick comedy in-between.

Stuyvesant finds a surprising ally in a French police inspector, Doucet, who is working on a much larger case of missing people from various countries - mostly women, but some men - who date back to the year before. The deeper Stuyvesant delves into the murky world of gory, shock art, the more the truth slowly seeps in: Pip hasn't flitted off to holiday on some rich guy's yacht. She's dead. With the certainty comes a growing suspicion, encouraged by the finding of some photographs that show women in a state of abject terror. But who took them, and what happened to the women after? The closer Stuyvesant comes to figuring it out, the more his own life is at risk - and those of people he cares deeply about.

I don't often read detective fiction, crime fiction, mystery-suspense novels - I'm never sure what to call them exactly, but all of the above. The generic kind (popular fiction) are too simplistic for me, and I get bored with them very quickly. Not enough character development, or the kind of description that aids in building atmosphere, tension and suspense. My in-laws read them constantly, so I'm always seeing books by writers like Harlan Corben, Karin Slaughter, Lee Child, John Sandford, Tess Gerritsen, John Grisham, Vince Flynn, Patricia Cornwell, Kathy Reichs, and so on, lying around their house, but I've never been tempted to pick one up and start reading. I've read one Cornwell book and one Grisham book (for a course at uni, years ago), and wasn't impressed - they're just not for me. But The Bones of Paris is not cast of the same mould, not at all. This is historical fiction, for a start, and it is an atmospheric, highly detailed, very involved and intelligent mystery, one that connects with the repercussions of war, like post-traumatic stress disorder and amputations, and the therapeutic affects (or hypothesis of) shock art. This is brain food, not a by-the-numbers stock thriller or suspense story.

This was my first time reading anything by King, who is the author of the Mary Russell mysteries and many others. The first Harris Stuyvesant book is called , set in London, and while The Bones of Paris makes connections with that earlier book - in particular Harris's lover, Sarah Grey, and her brother Captain Bennett Grey - it explains enough that their relationship in 1929 makes sense and continues to evolve, without giving everything away and spoiling the plot of Touchstone. Likewise with Harris himself: we learn a fair bit about him, and yet - in true mystery fashion - you know there's a great deal more that still lies hidden. His character comes through clearly: his pugnacity, or stubbornness, his sense of loyalty, even honour, his conscience and his somewhat clumsy empathetic skills. When we see him through the eyes of Le Comte, or Sarah Grey, or Bennett, we see a man you could dismiss as oafish: too big for slight, genteel Paris, too lumbering to be delicate or subtle, and yet Harris seems perfectly aware of his true state of being, and uses it to his advantage. He has that American quality - it comes through - of not caring what the locals think and just doing his thing regardless of how many feathers he ruffles in the process. He's reliable, determined, but knows when to back down and be a bit more flexible. He's an interesting character, not complex but not as obvious as he seems at first, either. Realistic, and human, and a convincing product of his time and personal history.

The setting is rich and tangible. Paris, fully recovered from World War I - or so it would seem: the scars and cracks of sanity are well hidden. The city is awash in foreigners, artists and writers and the rich making the most of the strong dollar to make the city their own. Stuyvesant predicts a market crash, and thinks Paris would be better off without all the ex-pats, who have altered the city in noticeable ways. Historical figures like Ernest Hemingway, Coco Chanel, Cole Porter, Josephine Baker, Sylvia Beach, Man Ray - they litter the narrative, giving the period it's set in solidity and presence, authenticity and that touch of glam. The period details are well researched, right down to Stuyvesant's throwaway thought regarding halitosis - a "condition" that was invented, so to speak, in the 1920s as a way of selling Listerine as something other than a liquid for sterilising surgical implements (prior to this highly successful marketing campaign, no one had any concept of good vs. bad breath - hard to imagine now, I know).

And of course there's Paris itself, a city built of limestone quarried from right underneath it, so that parts of it caved in in the 18th century, leading to an inventive solution. The city took the many bones from an overflowing cemetery that had already been closed (bodies would be thrown into pits and not covered over until full, when a new one would start, rotting freely in the open), and moved them to the mines, using them to make solid walls and foundations for the city. I've been to Paris once before but didn't even know about it; it would be quite the thing to see!

But this visual, of a city practically made of bones, of the beautiful bones of Paris and the empire of Death - it all resounds throughout the story, creating or adding to the growing tension and suspense, and making of the City of Light a city of darkness, of dark alleys and late nights falling down drunk, a city of murder and madness. A city with some complex truths hiding under its pretty surface façade. This idea complements, or is juxtaposed to, the women in Stuyvesant's life, the women who go missing and turn up dead. He spent five nights with Pip Crosby in Nice when she was passing through (he was working at a bar as a bouncer), and never thought to look beneath the surface of her pretty face and bright eyes. Same with Lulu, an amateur night walker with two little kids under the care of their grandmother, who he sleeps with when he first arrives in Paris and who later turns up dead. He never knew she had children, didn't know anything about her. Just saw her face and heard her laugh and thought, Why not? Such is the way the ex-pats treat Paris itself, like a sparkling lady who has much to give but goes no deeper than the stones under one's feet.

That's what I meant by calling this "brain food": a novel that engages and works with your many senses and your mind, and while it is quite a long novel and might be too rich in detail for some readers, it never felt bogged down or slow. It kept its pacing steady until the end, when it becomes nice and taut, and doesn't ever feel monotonous or tedious by the simple delight that there is so much to learn here. I felt like I'd just sat through the most fascinating art history lecture ever. What better way to learn about such things than in the hands of a skilled storyteller? None for my money.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via
]]> 3.48 2013 The Bones of Paris (Harris Stuyvesant, #2)
author: Laurie R. King
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.48
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/09/10
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, historical-fiction, mystery-suspense, psychological-thriller, france-book-tours, 2013
review:
Paris, 1929. Harris Stuyvesant, a big blonde American with a crooked nose and a messy history, has spent the last three years moving around Europe, doing odd jobs and working intermittently as a private investigator. Hired by the uncle and mother of a young American woman who's gone missing, he moves to Paris to begin the search.

Philippa - Pip - Crosby is twenty-two and hasn't been seen or heard from since March; it's now September. She went to France like many of her countrymen, to have a good time away from the family influence and the watchful eyes of her own society back home, and had slid into the Parisian art world as so many do. Working as a model and aspiring actress, Pip Crosby's name comes up in connection to some important and distinguished figures in Surrealist art - like photographer and painter, Man Ray (from America); little mole-like Hyacinthe "Didi" Moreau who makes display boxes of carefully-placed odds and ends, many of them disturbing; and Le Comte Dominic Charmentier, an aristocratic war hero who lost his entire family and now puts his energies into patronising Surrealist artists and managing the Theatre Grand-Guignol, which puts on intensely disturbing, graphic and violent plays with intervals of slapstick comedy in-between.

Stuyvesant finds a surprising ally in a French police inspector, Doucet, who is working on a much larger case of missing people from various countries - mostly women, but some men - who date back to the year before. The deeper Stuyvesant delves into the murky world of gory, shock art, the more the truth slowly seeps in: Pip hasn't flitted off to holiday on some rich guy's yacht. She's dead. With the certainty comes a growing suspicion, encouraged by the finding of some photographs that show women in a state of abject terror. But who took them, and what happened to the women after? The closer Stuyvesant comes to figuring it out, the more his own life is at risk - and those of people he cares deeply about.

I don't often read detective fiction, crime fiction, mystery-suspense novels - I'm never sure what to call them exactly, but all of the above. The generic kind (popular fiction) are too simplistic for me, and I get bored with them very quickly. Not enough character development, or the kind of description that aids in building atmosphere, tension and suspense. My in-laws read them constantly, so I'm always seeing books by writers like Harlan Corben, Karin Slaughter, Lee Child, John Sandford, Tess Gerritsen, John Grisham, Vince Flynn, Patricia Cornwell, Kathy Reichs, and so on, lying around their house, but I've never been tempted to pick one up and start reading. I've read one Cornwell book and one Grisham book (for a course at uni, years ago), and wasn't impressed - they're just not for me. But The Bones of Paris is not cast of the same mould, not at all. This is historical fiction, for a start, and it is an atmospheric, highly detailed, very involved and intelligent mystery, one that connects with the repercussions of war, like post-traumatic stress disorder and amputations, and the therapeutic affects (or hypothesis of) shock art. This is brain food, not a by-the-numbers stock thriller or suspense story.

This was my first time reading anything by King, who is the author of the Mary Russell mysteries and many others. The first Harris Stuyvesant book is called , set in London, and while The Bones of Paris makes connections with that earlier book - in particular Harris's lover, Sarah Grey, and her brother Captain Bennett Grey - it explains enough that their relationship in 1929 makes sense and continues to evolve, without giving everything away and spoiling the plot of Touchstone. Likewise with Harris himself: we learn a fair bit about him, and yet - in true mystery fashion - you know there's a great deal more that still lies hidden. His character comes through clearly: his pugnacity, or stubbornness, his sense of loyalty, even honour, his conscience and his somewhat clumsy empathetic skills. When we see him through the eyes of Le Comte, or Sarah Grey, or Bennett, we see a man you could dismiss as oafish: too big for slight, genteel Paris, too lumbering to be delicate or subtle, and yet Harris seems perfectly aware of his true state of being, and uses it to his advantage. He has that American quality - it comes through - of not caring what the locals think and just doing his thing regardless of how many feathers he ruffles in the process. He's reliable, determined, but knows when to back down and be a bit more flexible. He's an interesting character, not complex but not as obvious as he seems at first, either. Realistic, and human, and a convincing product of his time and personal history.

The setting is rich and tangible. Paris, fully recovered from World War I - or so it would seem: the scars and cracks of sanity are well hidden. The city is awash in foreigners, artists and writers and the rich making the most of the strong dollar to make the city their own. Stuyvesant predicts a market crash, and thinks Paris would be better off without all the ex-pats, who have altered the city in noticeable ways. Historical figures like Ernest Hemingway, Coco Chanel, Cole Porter, Josephine Baker, Sylvia Beach, Man Ray - they litter the narrative, giving the period it's set in solidity and presence, authenticity and that touch of glam. The period details are well researched, right down to Stuyvesant's throwaway thought regarding halitosis - a "condition" that was invented, so to speak, in the 1920s as a way of selling Listerine as something other than a liquid for sterilising surgical implements (prior to this highly successful marketing campaign, no one had any concept of good vs. bad breath - hard to imagine now, I know).

And of course there's Paris itself, a city built of limestone quarried from right underneath it, so that parts of it caved in in the 18th century, leading to an inventive solution. The city took the many bones from an overflowing cemetery that had already been closed (bodies would be thrown into pits and not covered over until full, when a new one would start, rotting freely in the open), and moved them to the mines, using them to make solid walls and foundations for the city. I've been to Paris once before but didn't even know about it; it would be quite the thing to see!

But this visual, of a city practically made of bones, of the beautiful bones of Paris and the empire of Death - it all resounds throughout the story, creating or adding to the growing tension and suspense, and making of the City of Light a city of darkness, of dark alleys and late nights falling down drunk, a city of murder and madness. A city with some complex truths hiding under its pretty surface façade. This idea complements, or is juxtaposed to, the women in Stuyvesant's life, the women who go missing and turn up dead. He spent five nights with Pip Crosby in Nice when she was passing through (he was working at a bar as a bouncer), and never thought to look beneath the surface of her pretty face and bright eyes. Same with Lulu, an amateur night walker with two little kids under the care of their grandmother, who he sleeps with when he first arrives in Paris and who later turns up dead. He never knew she had children, didn't know anything about her. Just saw her face and heard her laugh and thought, Why not? Such is the way the ex-pats treat Paris itself, like a sparkling lady who has much to give but goes no deeper than the stones under one's feet.

That's what I meant by calling this "brain food": a novel that engages and works with your many senses and your mind, and while it is quite a long novel and might be too rich in detail for some readers, it never felt bogged down or slow. It kept its pacing steady until the end, when it becomes nice and taut, and doesn't ever feel monotonous or tedious by the simple delight that there is so much to learn here. I felt like I'd just sat through the most fascinating art history lecture ever. What better way to learn about such things than in the hands of a skilled storyteller? None for my money.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via

]]> Adé: A Love Story 17415013
Haunting, exquisite, and certain to become a classic, Adé will stay with you long after you put it down. This is a timeless love story set perfectly, heartbreakingly, in our time.]]> 112 Rebecca Walker 054414922X Shannon 4
As the two women travel across north-eastern Africa, they eventually find themselves on the island of Luma, off the coast of Kenya. Predominately Muslim to Nairobi's Christian, they settle in quickly, effortlessly. On her first night there, she meets Adé, a handsome young man who "radiated an honesty that was unfamiliar, a blend of humility and self-awareness, confidence and modesty all at once, and when he turned to face me, I gasped a little at his unselfconscious beauty." With a mouthful of sweetened spaghetti, their love affair begins, an honest bonding of two souls who find themselves in each other - as well as a new and dangerous world.

It is Adé who names her Farida. She needs an Arabic name, he tells her, and chooses this one which means "the woman who is exceptional, a jewel. There is no other like her. She stands alone." He introduces her to his family - his mother, Nuru, and her other children, his cousins and even, eventually, his father who lives on the mainland in a village of rundown huts with his four wives and their many children. Farida continues to learn the language, Swahili, and adapt to the customs of the island, but it is for Adé that she stays, while Miriam leaves for more travel.

After Farida agrees to marry Adé, there is much discussion among the women of his family and the imams in the town about how to get the permission of her parents. It is a custom and one they must respect, even though Farida knows her parents won't care. So it is decided that they must travel to America before they can marry. To do so, Adé needs a passport: no easy matter in a country run by a dictator and divided along tribal lines. It is while in mainland Kenya that disaster strikes the happy, carefree couple. Farida succumbs to a rare form of meningitis and cerebral malaria. After weeks at a local hospital, it becomes clear that she must return to America for more treatment.

Only, it's August 1990. Saddam Hussein has invaded Kuwait, and America launches the Gulf War in retaliation. All flights are cancelled. The only way Farida can leave is on a specially chartered plane picking up foreign nationals with connections in the right places. Her father has arranged a seat for her on the plane. But there is only one seat.

This well-written novella is a tidy homage to love and identity as it explores the all-too-human barriers between race, class, religion and nationalism. The telling is simple but rather beautiful, never overdone or portentous or flowery. Walker, a poet, brings Farida's first-person voice to life in an understated way, capturing her sense of smallness and her quiet search for a place to belong.

The West's penchant for romanticising Africa is one of the themes at the heart of this book. Farida and Miriam experience Africa differently, with different eyes and different expectations. For Farida, whose mother was born in Africa and made sure her daughter grew up with a love for all things African, it is a place that allows her to seek a sense of identity that had before been elusive.

I know for many reasons that it is unfair, exploitive, and blasphemous to think this, but I began to feel at home there, walking between the palms, looking at the pink and purple, turquoise and orange clothes, faded but clean, fluttering on gray clotheslines above me. Some might say it was only first world romanticism causing me to see myself reflected in the faces of those to whom I could not speak. And yet at each house, even though I had no words to tie us together, a recognition between me and my hosts rose up and hung in the air, roping us together long after I had walked away. [pp. 9-10]


The powerful feeling of "fitting in" is new to Farida, and blissful. She is already slipping over the line from first-world to third even before they arrive in Luma and she meets Adé. In Adé, Walker has created a true gentleman, a man respectful of his culture, his people's traditions, his religion and Farida herself. He is loving, tender, passionate, thoughtful and loyal. He's a sweetheart, and it's not hard to see how someone like Farida could fall in love with him and be so willing to give up everything she knows, the lifestyle she grew up in - electricity and washing machines and so on. At the same time, she is young and idealistic, yet she doesn't come across as impressionable. She lacks the experience that comes with age as well as the jaded cynicism, but she sees clearly and is telling her story some two decades later, with the gift of hindsight. The voice of Farida as a young woman is the voice that comes across strongly in the story, not that of her present self.

It is a long time before Farida loses her rosy glasses. The trip to Nairobi for a passport for Adé is the beginning of the end of paradise for her. First, soldiers board their bus, ransack the passengers' belongings to steal anything of value, and Farida - in her Western, American pride and arrogance - demands that they stop, she finds the nozzle of a gun pressed to her cheek. Adé has to talk them out of killing her. Later, when tanks roll through town and the streets are deserted but for one young boy whom Farida sees get shot simply for running away, the last of her innocence is stripped away. The sound of the gunshot haunts her.

I could not imagine a day when Adé would turn against me, but I could, for the first time, imagine something far worse: death, imprisonment, or cruelty at the hands of a foreign government. Dictatorship and secreted civil wars created a terrible isolation for the people who lived within their unfolding. I saw a hideous and surreal picture of reality with no escape. Adé would not mistreat me, but I had not considered the state. And suddenly I felt less than I had yesterday, and far less than I had the week before. I was losing something. I was going dark. [p.84]


It is her sense of "white privilege" that Farida loses - a privilege that she absorbed by dint of being half-white and affluent and living in America. Here in Africa, she is one of them by skin colour alone. It takes the rude awakening on the bus to make her realise that while she may subconsciously believe she possesses white privilege, it's not visible to anyone else there. It won't protect her. The one thing that lingers is the buried knowledge that if the going gets too tough, she can still leave. This, too, is part of white privilege, of being a tourist to the harsh realities of life in a place like Africa. It is something that Farida comes face-to-face with and acknowledge.

I looked at Adé, extending the fork again and again, whispering encouragements, and I saw, for the first time, not a stranger, but a person from another place, another world. I saw someone I loved but could never really know. Adé knew how to talk murderers out of pulling the trigger. His father had abandoned him and his mother for four other wives and twice as many children. His island did not have a hospital. He made his living with precise movements of his hands and knowledge of the sky, chiseling flowers into wood for the rich, and knowing the direction of the wind as he steered his dhow. He lived in a house with no electricity and no running water, and shoveled feces from the bathroom - the hole in the ground at the back of his mother's house - every month. Five times a day Adé washed his hands and arms, knelt on a beautiful rug, and prayed to an invisible God.

But it was more than this. Yes, I could see it now. It wasn't him it was me. I had done what I swore I would not do: I had romanticized the truths of Africa. I had accepted Adé's life before I realized what it might mean for my own. [pp.94-5]


Adé is a classic story of trying to find your place in the world, of being from neither here nor there, of wanting to connect with your roots only to find that, no matter how much you want it to be otherwise, your upbringing has already shaped you. It is a simple story but rich, honest, full of feeling and the stripping away of innocence, naiveté, arrogance. After the clear flow of events throughout, I did find the ending a little vague, requiring more reading between the lines than anything that came before, which made it a bit disjointed and abrupt. The ending also seemed to strengthen the romanticisation of Africa and Farida's relationship with Adé, preserving it in the memories of youth - almost as if Farida made the decision she made not because of the actual difficulties but because the truth of those difficulties, of reality itself, was too much, the sacrifice on her part too great. I don't quite know what to make of it yet, it's something that will stew in my head for a while and would be clearer after a re-read. Overall, though, Walker's debut novel is strong and relevant, told in loving detail and narrated by a woman whose journey will resonate.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours. Please note that quotes in this review are from the uncorrected proof and may appear differently in the final copy.]]> 3.67 2013 Adé: A Love Story
author: Rebecca Walker
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.67
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/11/20
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, tlc-book-tours, fiction, 2013, coming-of-age
review:
She is nineteen, half black, daughter to successful but divorced parents. At Yale University she meets Miriam, a vivacious, confident twenty-one-year-old woman who, with her forceful, lively nature, takes her younger friend under her wing and introduces her to the wider world - both at home and abroad. Together, they take a year off and travel, thanks to their moneyed parents. In Africa, she begins to feel a sense of homecoming, no longer standing out with her copper colouring but "one in a great mass of long lost reflections of myself. The language was different but the skin, the way we looked moving in the colors and contours of the world, was the same."

As the two women travel across north-eastern Africa, they eventually find themselves on the island of Luma, off the coast of Kenya. Predominately Muslim to Nairobi's Christian, they settle in quickly, effortlessly. On her first night there, she meets Adé, a handsome young man who "radiated an honesty that was unfamiliar, a blend of humility and self-awareness, confidence and modesty all at once, and when he turned to face me, I gasped a little at his unselfconscious beauty." With a mouthful of sweetened spaghetti, their love affair begins, an honest bonding of two souls who find themselves in each other - as well as a new and dangerous world.

It is Adé who names her Farida. She needs an Arabic name, he tells her, and chooses this one which means "the woman who is exceptional, a jewel. There is no other like her. She stands alone." He introduces her to his family - his mother, Nuru, and her other children, his cousins and even, eventually, his father who lives on the mainland in a village of rundown huts with his four wives and their many children. Farida continues to learn the language, Swahili, and adapt to the customs of the island, but it is for Adé that she stays, while Miriam leaves for more travel.

After Farida agrees to marry Adé, there is much discussion among the women of his family and the imams in the town about how to get the permission of her parents. It is a custom and one they must respect, even though Farida knows her parents won't care. So it is decided that they must travel to America before they can marry. To do so, Adé needs a passport: no easy matter in a country run by a dictator and divided along tribal lines. It is while in mainland Kenya that disaster strikes the happy, carefree couple. Farida succumbs to a rare form of meningitis and cerebral malaria. After weeks at a local hospital, it becomes clear that she must return to America for more treatment.

Only, it's August 1990. Saddam Hussein has invaded Kuwait, and America launches the Gulf War in retaliation. All flights are cancelled. The only way Farida can leave is on a specially chartered plane picking up foreign nationals with connections in the right places. Her father has arranged a seat for her on the plane. But there is only one seat.

This well-written novella is a tidy homage to love and identity as it explores the all-too-human barriers between race, class, religion and nationalism. The telling is simple but rather beautiful, never overdone or portentous or flowery. Walker, a poet, brings Farida's first-person voice to life in an understated way, capturing her sense of smallness and her quiet search for a place to belong.

The West's penchant for romanticising Africa is one of the themes at the heart of this book. Farida and Miriam experience Africa differently, with different eyes and different expectations. For Farida, whose mother was born in Africa and made sure her daughter grew up with a love for all things African, it is a place that allows her to seek a sense of identity that had before been elusive.

I know for many reasons that it is unfair, exploitive, and blasphemous to think this, but I began to feel at home there, walking between the palms, looking at the pink and purple, turquoise and orange clothes, faded but clean, fluttering on gray clotheslines above me. Some might say it was only first world romanticism causing me to see myself reflected in the faces of those to whom I could not speak. And yet at each house, even though I had no words to tie us together, a recognition between me and my hosts rose up and hung in the air, roping us together long after I had walked away. [pp. 9-10]


The powerful feeling of "fitting in" is new to Farida, and blissful. She is already slipping over the line from first-world to third even before they arrive in Luma and she meets Adé. In Adé, Walker has created a true gentleman, a man respectful of his culture, his people's traditions, his religion and Farida herself. He is loving, tender, passionate, thoughtful and loyal. He's a sweetheart, and it's not hard to see how someone like Farida could fall in love with him and be so willing to give up everything she knows, the lifestyle she grew up in - electricity and washing machines and so on. At the same time, she is young and idealistic, yet she doesn't come across as impressionable. She lacks the experience that comes with age as well as the jaded cynicism, but she sees clearly and is telling her story some two decades later, with the gift of hindsight. The voice of Farida as a young woman is the voice that comes across strongly in the story, not that of her present self.

It is a long time before Farida loses her rosy glasses. The trip to Nairobi for a passport for Adé is the beginning of the end of paradise for her. First, soldiers board their bus, ransack the passengers' belongings to steal anything of value, and Farida - in her Western, American pride and arrogance - demands that they stop, she finds the nozzle of a gun pressed to her cheek. Adé has to talk them out of killing her. Later, when tanks roll through town and the streets are deserted but for one young boy whom Farida sees get shot simply for running away, the last of her innocence is stripped away. The sound of the gunshot haunts her.

I could not imagine a day when Adé would turn against me, but I could, for the first time, imagine something far worse: death, imprisonment, or cruelty at the hands of a foreign government. Dictatorship and secreted civil wars created a terrible isolation for the people who lived within their unfolding. I saw a hideous and surreal picture of reality with no escape. Adé would not mistreat me, but I had not considered the state. And suddenly I felt less than I had yesterday, and far less than I had the week before. I was losing something. I was going dark. [p.84]


It is her sense of "white privilege" that Farida loses - a privilege that she absorbed by dint of being half-white and affluent and living in America. Here in Africa, she is one of them by skin colour alone. It takes the rude awakening on the bus to make her realise that while she may subconsciously believe she possesses white privilege, it's not visible to anyone else there. It won't protect her. The one thing that lingers is the buried knowledge that if the going gets too tough, she can still leave. This, too, is part of white privilege, of being a tourist to the harsh realities of life in a place like Africa. It is something that Farida comes face-to-face with and acknowledge.

I looked at Adé, extending the fork again and again, whispering encouragements, and I saw, for the first time, not a stranger, but a person from another place, another world. I saw someone I loved but could never really know. Adé knew how to talk murderers out of pulling the trigger. His father had abandoned him and his mother for four other wives and twice as many children. His island did not have a hospital. He made his living with precise movements of his hands and knowledge of the sky, chiseling flowers into wood for the rich, and knowing the direction of the wind as he steered his dhow. He lived in a house with no electricity and no running water, and shoveled feces from the bathroom - the hole in the ground at the back of his mother's house - every month. Five times a day Adé washed his hands and arms, knelt on a beautiful rug, and prayed to an invisible God.

But it was more than this. Yes, I could see it now. It wasn't him it was me. I had done what I swore I would not do: I had romanticized the truths of Africa. I had accepted Adé's life before I realized what it might mean for my own. [pp.94-5]


Adé is a classic story of trying to find your place in the world, of being from neither here nor there, of wanting to connect with your roots only to find that, no matter how much you want it to be otherwise, your upbringing has already shaped you. It is a simple story but rich, honest, full of feeling and the stripping away of innocence, naiveté, arrogance. After the clear flow of events throughout, I did find the ending a little vague, requiring more reading between the lines than anything that came before, which made it a bit disjointed and abrupt. The ending also seemed to strengthen the romanticisation of Africa and Farida's relationship with Adé, preserving it in the memories of youth - almost as if Farida made the decision she made not because of the actual difficulties but because the truth of those difficulties, of reality itself, was too much, the sacrifice on her part too great. I don't quite know what to make of it yet, it's something that will stew in my head for a while and would be clearer after a re-read. Overall, though, Walker's debut novel is strong and relevant, told in loving detail and narrated by a woman whose journey will resonate.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours. Please note that quotes in this review are from the uncorrected proof and may appear differently in the final copy.
]]> In Falling Snow 17707649 A bestselling Australian writer’s American debut and a heart-wrenching novel of World War I

Iris Crane’s tranquil life is shattered when a letter summons memories from her bittersweet past: her first love, her best friend, and the tragedy that changed everything. Iris, a young Australian nurse, travels to France during World War I to bring home her fifteen-year-old brother, who ran away to enlist. But in Paris she meets the charismatic Dr. Frances Ivens, who convinces Iris to help establish a field hospital in the old abbey at Royaumont, staffed entirely by women—a decision that will change her life. Seamlessly interwoven is the story of Grace, Iris’s granddaughter in 1970s Australia. Together their narratives paint a portrait of the changing role of women in medicine and the powerful legacy of love.]]> 464 Mary-Rose MacColl 0143123920 Shannon 5
In 1914 Iris Crane, a young nurse from Brisbane, arrives in Paris on a mission from her father: find her fifteen-year-old brother, Tom, and bring him home before he gets killed. Instead, Iris finds herself enlisted by the incredibly charismatic Dr Frances Ivens, who convinces Iris to help her set up a new hospital run entirely by women at Royaumont, an old abandoned abbey north of Paris. Since the last word she'd heard from her brother was that he was going to Amiens, Iris decides it is a good location from which to search for Tom, rather than end up who-knew-where with the Red Cross. But at Royaumont Iris soon finds herself caught up in establishing and running the hospital, working as both administrator and nurse, bearing witness to the atrocities of war.

Sixty years after the war ended, back in Brisbane in 1978, elderly Iris Hogan (nee Crane) receives a letter inviting her back to Royaumont to commemorate the 60th anniversary, where the guest speaker will be her old friend, Violet Heron. The letter dredges up old memories for Iris, who hasn't stayed in contact with anyone she knew from that time, and while she struggles to stay in the present and remember the recent past, she begins to relive her time at Royaumont. Her granddaughter, Grace, an obstetrics doctor, visits her often and is alarmed at the idea of Iris flying to France because of her weak heart.

Grace isn't paying as much attention to her grandmother as she would later wish: she has her own problems, chief among them an inquiry at the hospital after a baby was delivered stillborn, and her own youngest child, Henry, who at three years old suffers from fatigue, is developing a bit slower than his older sisters did, and whose legs sometimes hurt. Her husband, David, also a doctor, wants them to have Henry looked at by a paediatrician, but Grace is reluctant. Part of her knows something is wrong, something she doesn't want to have to face, but she couldn't have known that Henry's condition is connected to a secret Iris has kept for three generations.

In Falling Snow is an absolutely beautiful book, a compelling story that illuminates the hard work of women during the war, the struggle women faced to be recognised for their skills and ability and strength in the workplace - not just in early twentieth century, but in the 70s as well. Both Grace and Iris are connected not just through family ties, but also as mothers, working women, women in the field of health. The novel is a fictionalised chronicle of Royaumont Hospital, which was indeed a field hospital run entirely by women and funded by a Scottish women's group.The women, doctors and nurses and orderlies and kitchen staff and ambulance drivers, came from all over the English-speaking world, and were so successful at running the hospital - where the men were better cared for than at any other field hospital in France - that they were later asked to open a second one, closer to the front.

The details Iris relates about setting up and running the hospital were just as fascinating as the human side of the story. There aren't that many novels written about World War I - the second world war is more popular - and while the perspective is a narrow one, you can still gain an invaluable insight into the realities of the Great War on everyday people. From the villagers struggling to get by to the young black soldiers from French colonies like Senegal and Algeria forced to enlist and were dying for a war they knew nothing about, MacColl brings the period vividly to life.

Likewise, Australia in the 70s, and the field of obstetrics in particular, is realistically captured - I'm always impressed and astounded (and, frankly, intimidated) by how much research authors of historical fiction must have to do to put together a story like this one. Interestingly, it is Grace's experiences as a female doctor at a hospital that created more tension for me than Iris working in a war zone. This was no doubt because I already knew Iris returned home unscathed, while Grace's future was unknown. The dual narratives provided momentum for the story, and due to their interconnectedness, it was easy switching back-and-forth. In some ways, I was more riveted to Grace's story, but her story wouldn't have had any power to move me if it weren't for Iris's recounting of her time at Royaumont. Not just because the two are connected, but because they provide such wonderful contrasts for each other.

The theme of motherhood is at the core of this novel: what makes a woman a mother, the sacrifices that mothers make, the delicate balance of children and career - one often cancelling the other out. Tied into this is the idea of a mother's burden of guilt, the feeling of culpability and fault, and the lengths a mother might go to to protect her child, or provide for them. It is subtly handled, a light touch that shadows the story rather than overtakes it, and it isn't until certain revelations at the end that the full sense of the theme takes shape.

The characters are all fully realised and developed, and live life off the page and in your head and heart. The interesting thing about Iris is the sense that she's not quite a reliable narrator - especially because of her failing mental capabilities but also because the secret she's spent most of her life keeping. She is deft at dissembling and distracting, being both clear and honest with the reader and also gently confounding. She foreshadows but never quite follows up on these statements - especially concerning her friend, Violet Heron, who calls them "the flower birds" because their names combine both flowers and birds. I found this quality to Iris's narrative quite clever; it was subtle and also provided another degree of tension or ambiguity. Iris often lulled me into a straight-forward narrative, never even hinting that she was keeping a secret at all. Without Grace's side of the story, Iris's narrative would have lacked a climax as well as a driving force. With it, her story takes on new, more complex layers of meaning.

In Falling Snow is easily one of my favourite books read this year, a story that has the storytelling power and skill to captivate me, educate me and engage with all my senses. MacColl has delivered not just a wonderful story, but also brought to life the obscure and mostly forgotten efforts of women working to great benefit during the war, lauding their bravery and skills while also never sacrificing the honour due to that oldest profession: motherhood.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.83 2012 In Falling Snow
author: Mary-Rose MacColl
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.83
book published: 2012
rating: 5
read at: 2013/09/06
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, ww1, historical-fiction, australian-women-writers, 2013, made-me-cry, family-saga, aww2013
review:


In 1914 Iris Crane, a young nurse from Brisbane, arrives in Paris on a mission from her father: find her fifteen-year-old brother, Tom, and bring him home before he gets killed. Instead, Iris finds herself enlisted by the incredibly charismatic Dr Frances Ivens, who convinces Iris to help her set up a new hospital run entirely by women at Royaumont, an old abandoned abbey north of Paris. Since the last word she'd heard from her brother was that he was going to Amiens, Iris decides it is a good location from which to search for Tom, rather than end up who-knew-where with the Red Cross. But at Royaumont Iris soon finds herself caught up in establishing and running the hospital, working as both administrator and nurse, bearing witness to the atrocities of war.

Sixty years after the war ended, back in Brisbane in 1978, elderly Iris Hogan (nee Crane) receives a letter inviting her back to Royaumont to commemorate the 60th anniversary, where the guest speaker will be her old friend, Violet Heron. The letter dredges up old memories for Iris, who hasn't stayed in contact with anyone she knew from that time, and while she struggles to stay in the present and remember the recent past, she begins to relive her time at Royaumont. Her granddaughter, Grace, an obstetrics doctor, visits her often and is alarmed at the idea of Iris flying to France because of her weak heart.

Grace isn't paying as much attention to her grandmother as she would later wish: she has her own problems, chief among them an inquiry at the hospital after a baby was delivered stillborn, and her own youngest child, Henry, who at three years old suffers from fatigue, is developing a bit slower than his older sisters did, and whose legs sometimes hurt. Her husband, David, also a doctor, wants them to have Henry looked at by a paediatrician, but Grace is reluctant. Part of her knows something is wrong, something she doesn't want to have to face, but she couldn't have known that Henry's condition is connected to a secret Iris has kept for three generations.

In Falling Snow is an absolutely beautiful book, a compelling story that illuminates the hard work of women during the war, the struggle women faced to be recognised for their skills and ability and strength in the workplace - not just in early twentieth century, but in the 70s as well. Both Grace and Iris are connected not just through family ties, but also as mothers, working women, women in the field of health. The novel is a fictionalised chronicle of Royaumont Hospital, which was indeed a field hospital run entirely by women and funded by a Scottish women's group.The women, doctors and nurses and orderlies and kitchen staff and ambulance drivers, came from all over the English-speaking world, and were so successful at running the hospital - where the men were better cared for than at any other field hospital in France - that they were later asked to open a second one, closer to the front.

The details Iris relates about setting up and running the hospital were just as fascinating as the human side of the story. There aren't that many novels written about World War I - the second world war is more popular - and while the perspective is a narrow one, you can still gain an invaluable insight into the realities of the Great War on everyday people. From the villagers struggling to get by to the young black soldiers from French colonies like Senegal and Algeria forced to enlist and were dying for a war they knew nothing about, MacColl brings the period vividly to life.

Likewise, Australia in the 70s, and the field of obstetrics in particular, is realistically captured - I'm always impressed and astounded (and, frankly, intimidated) by how much research authors of historical fiction must have to do to put together a story like this one. Interestingly, it is Grace's experiences as a female doctor at a hospital that created more tension for me than Iris working in a war zone. This was no doubt because I already knew Iris returned home unscathed, while Grace's future was unknown. The dual narratives provided momentum for the story, and due to their interconnectedness, it was easy switching back-and-forth. In some ways, I was more riveted to Grace's story, but her story wouldn't have had any power to move me if it weren't for Iris's recounting of her time at Royaumont. Not just because the two are connected, but because they provide such wonderful contrasts for each other.

The theme of motherhood is at the core of this novel: what makes a woman a mother, the sacrifices that mothers make, the delicate balance of children and career - one often cancelling the other out. Tied into this is the idea of a mother's burden of guilt, the feeling of culpability and fault, and the lengths a mother might go to to protect her child, or provide for them. It is subtly handled, a light touch that shadows the story rather than overtakes it, and it isn't until certain revelations at the end that the full sense of the theme takes shape.

The characters are all fully realised and developed, and live life off the page and in your head and heart. The interesting thing about Iris is the sense that she's not quite a reliable narrator - especially because of her failing mental capabilities but also because the secret she's spent most of her life keeping. She is deft at dissembling and distracting, being both clear and honest with the reader and also gently confounding. She foreshadows but never quite follows up on these statements - especially concerning her friend, Violet Heron, who calls them "the flower birds" because their names combine both flowers and birds. I found this quality to Iris's narrative quite clever; it was subtle and also provided another degree of tension or ambiguity. Iris often lulled me into a straight-forward narrative, never even hinting that she was keeping a secret at all. Without Grace's side of the story, Iris's narrative would have lacked a climax as well as a driving force. With it, her story takes on new, more complex layers of meaning.

In Falling Snow is easily one of my favourite books read this year, a story that has the storytelling power and skill to captivate me, educate me and engage with all my senses. MacColl has delivered not just a wonderful story, but also brought to life the obscure and mostly forgotten efforts of women working to great benefit during the war, lauding their bravery and skills while also never sacrificing the honour due to that oldest profession: motherhood.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Lying to Meet You 18211375

Chloe Lane is about to find out. When her childhood pal, Ethan Webster, asks her to play the part of his girlfriend in order to test this theory, she reluctantly agrees. As a work-crazed fashion designer, boutique owner and soon-to-be reality show judge, Chloe has no time for a real boyfriend, but being part of a faux pair will do just fine. Not that she has any intention of trying to attract someone else.

However…

Opportunity unexpectedly knocks when Chloe meets fellow reality judge, William Shannon. Super successful and super sexy, this high-powered entrepreneur inspires Chloe to test Ethan’s theory herself. Now, on top of keeping her fashion business productive, carving out a new role as a television personality, maintaining a fake relationship and attempting to lay the groundwork for a future relationship, she’s lying to William, lying to her friends, lying to her family and quite possibly lying to herself. Will Chloe be able to keep it all together, or are things about to explode?]]> Anna Garner Shannon 4
Ethan proposes to test the theory that Chloe, Veronica and Isabel came up with to explain why the men weren't biting: that men like the chase, and that being in a couple makes a person more desirable to others. If Chloe pretends to be in a relationship with Ethan, maybe he'll be able to attract the attention of the woman at work whom he's interested in. And the bonus: they'll have dates for parties, holidays and "other couple-y things". They work out the details of their pretend relationship, and the test is on.

When Chloe unexpectedly receives an invitation to be one of four judges on a new reality TV competition show on NBC, she's excited and also very nervous. Of the four other super-successful entrepreneur judges, one of them is William Shannon, a very sexy, filthy rich bachelor who ignites an electrical charge of desire in Chloe. The chance to test the theory herself sees Chloe extending her lies to her work in order to make William Shannon think Ethan is her boyfriend.

As Chloe begins to get her heart's wish in the bedroom-department as well as in business, she finds that the lies and the truth are no longer easy to distinguish, that maybe the lies are hiding a more profound truth - and it's just taking time and life experiences to know which is which.

This is the first novel Garner has published under her own name; previously she's released three books under the pen name . I've read and really enjoyed it - it was about a textile artist, again showing Mercer/Garner's love of textiles, fashion, design, clothing and art - and I have The Karmic Connection still to read (I don't think that one has a fashion/design angle, but not having read it yet I can't be sure!). Garner is on solid ground with the fashion industry, and I have to say that after reading two chick-lit novels set in the world of fashion this year (the other being Sunni Overend's excellent ), I feel like I know quite a bit about it now, too!

I remember that one of my slight disappointments regarding Unmasking Maya was that it was a bit short, and I wanted more meat on what's an otherwise great story. Well with Lying to Meet You, I got my meat! There's not only great detail in this story, it also really delves into Chloe's life and fleshes out the supporting cast as well. It felt very realistic and alive; the time I spent in Chloe's head and her life was vivid and tangible. This reads as an engaging chick-lit novel (with very few embarrassing - nay, humiliating - moments unlike most chick-lit it seems) that takes the time to let its heroine grow and mature and figure things out. Nothing felt forced or contrived or rushed. The ending - the romance side of it - wasn't all that predictable: because of the tone and nature of the story, I really wasn't sure how it was going to end until we were nearly there. It did turn out to be true to formula, but it worked and was right for the characters.

There's humour here too, and some funny situations that are all the more comical by not being over-done. Other times it's a more gentle kind of humour, a shake-your-head-at-the-folly kind. And then there are the moments of humour that have a darker undertone, making it edgier - especially certain scenes with William Shannon, or the winning competitors diet bracelet inspired by an electric cattle prod. (Chloe finds herself unable to think of him as just William, building him into a major celebrity in her own mind, which does rather point to how things will turn out.) Throughout the novel, it wasn't the chick-lit formula that kept the momentum and tension in the story, it was the tone, the hint of uncertainty, of Chloe wobbling on her high heels, that gave it real tension. A good chick-lit novel isn't a farce, it's a fine balance of humour, realism and deeper meaning - a kind of reassessment of the character's life. In that, Garner was highly successful with Lying to Meet You.

I also have to say that I absolutely loved reading that in designing a new line of clothing inspired by Queen Boudicca, she incorporates a tartan: the Elliott tartan. She's absolutely correct, it's the loveliest tartan (not the modern version, the original more muted one), and for Chloe it has personal meaning in that her mum was an Elliott before she married her dad. I loved this because my husband's grandmother is an Elliott too (pre-marriage, but once in a clan, always in a clan), and the kilt he wore for our wedding was in the Elliott tartan. We also gave our son the name Elliott as his first middle name, to keep that connection alive. Both of us have lots of Scottish ancestry on both sides of our families, but the Elliott tartan really is the loveliest.

Lying to Meet You was an absorbing, fun, interesting story that brings the New York fashion world to life. I loved reading this engaging, intelligent and well-written novel, and following Chloe on her journey to finding real love and lifelong companionship. Chloe is a smart, endearing, realistic heroine caught up in dreams and lies when the reality already in her grasp is better than both.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.]]> 4.12 2013 Lying to Meet You
author: Anna Garner
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.12
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/30
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: e-book, review-copy, chick-lit, romance, romantic-comedy, 2013, self-published
review:
Chloe Lane is almost thirty and single, but in her own mind she's a success: she's followed her passion and her dream of being a fashion designer, opening her own boutique in New York City to sell her clothes. Her mother may still harp on at her about finding a man and getting married, but Chloe doesn't beat herself up about it. But after a night out with her two best friends, Isabel and Veronica, which saw all their attempts at meeting men fail, she can't help but feel a bit down about it. So when her good friend since childhood, Ethan Webster, makes a startling suggestion, Chloe decides, why not?

Ethan proposes to test the theory that Chloe, Veronica and Isabel came up with to explain why the men weren't biting: that men like the chase, and that being in a couple makes a person more desirable to others. If Chloe pretends to be in a relationship with Ethan, maybe he'll be able to attract the attention of the woman at work whom he's interested in. And the bonus: they'll have dates for parties, holidays and "other couple-y things". They work out the details of their pretend relationship, and the test is on.

When Chloe unexpectedly receives an invitation to be one of four judges on a new reality TV competition show on NBC, she's excited and also very nervous. Of the four other super-successful entrepreneur judges, one of them is William Shannon, a very sexy, filthy rich bachelor who ignites an electrical charge of desire in Chloe. The chance to test the theory herself sees Chloe extending her lies to her work in order to make William Shannon think Ethan is her boyfriend.

As Chloe begins to get her heart's wish in the bedroom-department as well as in business, she finds that the lies and the truth are no longer easy to distinguish, that maybe the lies are hiding a more profound truth - and it's just taking time and life experiences to know which is which.

This is the first novel Garner has published under her own name; previously she's released three books under the pen name . I've read and really enjoyed it - it was about a textile artist, again showing Mercer/Garner's love of textiles, fashion, design, clothing and art - and I have The Karmic Connection still to read (I don't think that one has a fashion/design angle, but not having read it yet I can't be sure!). Garner is on solid ground with the fashion industry, and I have to say that after reading two chick-lit novels set in the world of fashion this year (the other being Sunni Overend's excellent ), I feel like I know quite a bit about it now, too!

I remember that one of my slight disappointments regarding Unmasking Maya was that it was a bit short, and I wanted more meat on what's an otherwise great story. Well with Lying to Meet You, I got my meat! There's not only great detail in this story, it also really delves into Chloe's life and fleshes out the supporting cast as well. It felt very realistic and alive; the time I spent in Chloe's head and her life was vivid and tangible. This reads as an engaging chick-lit novel (with very few embarrassing - nay, humiliating - moments unlike most chick-lit it seems) that takes the time to let its heroine grow and mature and figure things out. Nothing felt forced or contrived or rushed. The ending - the romance side of it - wasn't all that predictable: because of the tone and nature of the story, I really wasn't sure how it was going to end until we were nearly there. It did turn out to be true to formula, but it worked and was right for the characters.

There's humour here too, and some funny situations that are all the more comical by not being over-done. Other times it's a more gentle kind of humour, a shake-your-head-at-the-folly kind. And then there are the moments of humour that have a darker undertone, making it edgier - especially certain scenes with William Shannon, or the winning competitors diet bracelet inspired by an electric cattle prod. (Chloe finds herself unable to think of him as just William, building him into a major celebrity in her own mind, which does rather point to how things will turn out.) Throughout the novel, it wasn't the chick-lit formula that kept the momentum and tension in the story, it was the tone, the hint of uncertainty, of Chloe wobbling on her high heels, that gave it real tension. A good chick-lit novel isn't a farce, it's a fine balance of humour, realism and deeper meaning - a kind of reassessment of the character's life. In that, Garner was highly successful with Lying to Meet You.

I also have to say that I absolutely loved reading that in designing a new line of clothing inspired by Queen Boudicca, she incorporates a tartan: the Elliott tartan. She's absolutely correct, it's the loveliest tartan (not the modern version, the original more muted one), and for Chloe it has personal meaning in that her mum was an Elliott before she married her dad. I loved this because my husband's grandmother is an Elliott too (pre-marriage, but once in a clan, always in a clan), and the kilt he wore for our wedding was in the Elliott tartan. We also gave our son the name Elliott as his first middle name, to keep that connection alive. Both of us have lots of Scottish ancestry on both sides of our families, but the Elliott tartan really is the loveliest.

Lying to Meet You was an absorbing, fun, interesting story that brings the New York fashion world to life. I loved reading this engaging, intelligent and well-written novel, and following Chloe on her journey to finding real love and lifelong companionship. Chloe is a smart, endearing, realistic heroine caught up in dreams and lies when the reality already in her grasp is better than both.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.
]]> Countdown 17622950
2 pawns thrown into a brutal underground reality game. 

Kira Jordan survived her family's murder and months on plague-devastated city streets with hard-won savvy and a low-level psi ability. She figures she can handle anything. Until she wakes up in a barren room, chained next to the notorious Rogan Ellis. 

1 reason Kira will never, ever trust Rogan. Even though both their lives depend on it. 

Their every move is controlled and televised for a vicious exclusive audience. And as Kira's psi skill unexpectedly grows and Rogan's secrets prove evermore deadly, Kira's only chance of survival is to risk trusting him as much as her instincts. Even if that means running head-on into the one trap she can't escape. 

GAME OVER]]> 327 Michelle Rowen 0373210906 Shannon 4
Unlike Kira, Rogan knows exactly what's going on, because unlike Kira, he signed up for it. Countdown, an underground television reality game show privately subscribed to by viewers who have it beamed right into their heads via the computer chip in the back of their heads. Two contestants are given a set of six tasks, or levels, each progressively worse, and a tight time limit to complete them. There can only be one winner. Rogan was in St Augustine's, a juvenile detention centre, just days away from turning eighteen and being sent to Saradone, a brutal adult prison, when he was offered the alternative choice of being in Countdown. He has little to lose, as either way means likely death, but at least the game show gives him a chance at wiping clean his criminal record as a reward if he wins.

Kira is the first female ever to be on the show, and the first contestant to be press-ganged into it. As such, she's less than willing, but she has to stay within 90 feet of Rogan if she doesn't want her head to blow up. She doesn't know who she can trust but as she learns more about Rogan - and he, her - they come to trust each other as a matter of survival.

But Rogan knows a lot more about this sadistic, murderous game than Kira had reckoned on. In fact, the game - and its creator - are a lot closer to home than she could have guessed. And as the game tries to force them into betraying each other, they instead turn their gazes on the man behind the game itself, and what's really going on.

Countdown was originally published by Shomi in 2008 as an adult novel under the pseudonym of Michelle Maddox. The idea to tweak it a bit for a Young Adult audience worked very well, and the result is a high-adrenaline, fast-paced adventure story with a bit of romance, more than a bit of sexual tension, and a satisfying climax (ha ha). Needless to say, they complete the levels with barely seconds to spare, which makes for some terrific tension.

Even before I started reading Countdown, when I just read the blurb, I was immediately reminded of The Running Man - the old Arnold Schwarzenegger film, not the book which I haven't read yet. And interestingly enough, the story reads very much like you're watching a movie. It has a rather formulaic structure to it, the kind of structure that works very well on screen, and the fast pace, powerful bad guy, slightly conventional plot twists and cinematic-like visuals make for the strong feeling of having just watched an exciting movie.

There is some tidy backstory given on the state of Kira's world, a post-apocalyptic world decimated by the ravages of a plague that wiped out large portions of the population. Her city is mostly derelict, and empty, and it seems like the middle class has mostly been wiped out. The world-building is nicely sketched but doesn't figure prominently, merely supplying the setting for the reality game show: a world where this could be possible.

The characters are few but were nicely developed with plenty of mystery left over to make it hard to know whether to trust any of them. Kira narrates, and while she has her moments, in the beginning, of denial, she soon rises to the challenge and whining is minimal. She becomes a strong-willed heroine, resourceful and intelligent, and between them Kira and Rogan have solid chemistry and plenty of tension. There wasn't anything especially unique or particularly memorable about them, but they were well-written and they hold your attention - and your sympathies.

This is all fun: solid, exciting, dependable fun. If there are "popcorn movies", then this is a "popcorn novel". It is a bit conventional and formulaic, but it's done well and it works, and it's never boring. It achieves its aims admirably and Rowen has delivered a thrilling, compelling story.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.]]> 3.69 2008 Countdown
author: Michelle Rowen
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.69
book published: 2008
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/21
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: netgalley, review-copy, e-book, ya, sci-fi, 2013
review:
Sixteen-year-old Kira Jordan has been living on the desolate streets for two years after her family is brutally murdered one night and she rejected the foster care system. She's become an adept shop-lifter and pick-pocket, a petty thief who survives by her wits and has, like almost everyone else, the unlikely dream of one day making it to the Colony, a domed city where people are safe and comfortable and she could go to school again. Those fanciful dreams are even more unlikely when she wakes up one day in pitch blackness, chained to a metal wall by the wrist, and then realises she's sharing the metal box with Rogan Ellis, a teenaged mass murderer.

Unlike Kira, Rogan knows exactly what's going on, because unlike Kira, he signed up for it. Countdown, an underground television reality game show privately subscribed to by viewers who have it beamed right into their heads via the computer chip in the back of their heads. Two contestants are given a set of six tasks, or levels, each progressively worse, and a tight time limit to complete them. There can only be one winner. Rogan was in St Augustine's, a juvenile detention centre, just days away from turning eighteen and being sent to Saradone, a brutal adult prison, when he was offered the alternative choice of being in Countdown. He has little to lose, as either way means likely death, but at least the game show gives him a chance at wiping clean his criminal record as a reward if he wins.

Kira is the first female ever to be on the show, and the first contestant to be press-ganged into it. As such, she's less than willing, but she has to stay within 90 feet of Rogan if she doesn't want her head to blow up. She doesn't know who she can trust but as she learns more about Rogan - and he, her - they come to trust each other as a matter of survival.

But Rogan knows a lot more about this sadistic, murderous game than Kira had reckoned on. In fact, the game - and its creator - are a lot closer to home than she could have guessed. And as the game tries to force them into betraying each other, they instead turn their gazes on the man behind the game itself, and what's really going on.

Countdown was originally published by Shomi in 2008 as an adult novel under the pseudonym of Michelle Maddox. The idea to tweak it a bit for a Young Adult audience worked very well, and the result is a high-adrenaline, fast-paced adventure story with a bit of romance, more than a bit of sexual tension, and a satisfying climax (ha ha). Needless to say, they complete the levels with barely seconds to spare, which makes for some terrific tension.

Even before I started reading Countdown, when I just read the blurb, I was immediately reminded of The Running Man - the old Arnold Schwarzenegger film, not the book which I haven't read yet. And interestingly enough, the story reads very much like you're watching a movie. It has a rather formulaic structure to it, the kind of structure that works very well on screen, and the fast pace, powerful bad guy, slightly conventional plot twists and cinematic-like visuals make for the strong feeling of having just watched an exciting movie.

There is some tidy backstory given on the state of Kira's world, a post-apocalyptic world decimated by the ravages of a plague that wiped out large portions of the population. Her city is mostly derelict, and empty, and it seems like the middle class has mostly been wiped out. The world-building is nicely sketched but doesn't figure prominently, merely supplying the setting for the reality game show: a world where this could be possible.

The characters are few but were nicely developed with plenty of mystery left over to make it hard to know whether to trust any of them. Kira narrates, and while she has her moments, in the beginning, of denial, she soon rises to the challenge and whining is minimal. She becomes a strong-willed heroine, resourceful and intelligent, and between them Kira and Rogan have solid chemistry and plenty of tension. There wasn't anything especially unique or particularly memorable about them, but they were well-written and they hold your attention - and your sympathies.

This is all fun: solid, exciting, dependable fun. If there are "popcorn movies", then this is a "popcorn novel". It is a bit conventional and formulaic, but it's done well and it works, and it's never boring. It achieves its aims admirably and Rowen has delivered a thrilling, compelling story.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> The Panopticon 16071761
Raised in foster care from birth and moved through twenty-three placements before she even turned seven, Anais has been let down by just about every adult she has ever met. Now a counter-culture outlaw, she knows that she can only rely on herself. And yet despite the parade of horrors visited upon her early life, she greets the world with the witty, fierce insight of a survivor.

Anais finds a sense of belonging among the residents of the Panopticon – they form intense bonds, and she soon becomes part of an ad hoc family. Together, they struggle against the adults that keep them confined. When she looks up at the watchtower that looms over the residents though, Anais knows her fate: she is an anonymous part of an experiment, and she always was. Now it seems that the experiment is closing in.

Named one of the best books of the year by the Times Literary Supplement and the Scotsman, The Panopticon is an astonishingly haunting, remarkable debut novel. In language dazzling, energetic and pure, it introduces us to a heartbreaking young heroine and an incredibly assured and outstanding new voice in fiction.]]> 282 Jenni Fagan 0385347863 Shannon 4
Arriving at the Panopticon seems to fit right in with her theory about the experiment. It's a semi-circular building where the interior is open to the all-seeing watchtower in the middle; dating back to a pervious era and a life as an asylum, it's well fitted for wayward teens like Anais. She's been brought here by the police with blood all over her school uniform - but she hasn't been charged. There's no evidence that she put PC Craig in a coma, nothing but their prior volatile, antagonistic relationship and Anais's hefty track record: she's been brought in for countless acts of vandalism, violence, trafficking, and more. But while she doesn't remember anything from that day, she's sure she had nothing to do with the police constable's current state.

At the Panopticon, she meets and befriends the other girls: Tash, fifteen and working the streets at night; her girlfriend Isla, who has two-year-old twins living in foster care and cuts her belly out of guilt for passing AIDS onto them - a disease she had no idea she had, after catching it herself from using her father's drug kit one time; and Shortie, who picks a fight with Anais after which the two become close. There are boys here too: John, cute and a thief; twelve-year-old Dylan and Brian, whom they all hate after catching him doing something despicable. It's the only family Anais has, and it's not bad, as family's go. Even if the watchtower is always watching, and her social worker is never around to support her, and her ex-boyfriend keeps pestering her from jail.

But the tight net of the system is closing in on Anais. With her lengthy rap sheet and this unproven belief that she assaulted a cop and put the woman in a coma, her time of relative freedom is coming to an end. They want to put her away in the underage facility located on an island called John Kay, until she's eighteen and then, they predict, she'll end up in the regular adult jail. But Anais has a will, and has lived through enough bad shit and survived that she's not about to let this be her end. If there's one thing she has left to call her own, she reasons, it's her soul, and that the experiment can never have.

The Panopticon is a tough book to read, alright. It starts slow, not because nothing happens but because Anais' narrative voice takes a while to get the hang of (for non-Scottish readers, at least), and as it's written (correctly, with great skill) in present tense, you're launched right into her head and it's a bit like floundering in deep water, trying to get your head up and get your breath and your bearings. Anais is smart at school, when she goes, but she has a distinctly colloquial way of thinking/speaking, and in Scottish vernacular, so that her voice is strongly authentic. She's also a big drug taker, as well as an adolescent, and the way she thinks is reflective of both. It's highly realistic, and given the subject matter, this makes it a tough book to read.

Yet so, so worthwhile. On 카지노싸이트 I tagged this as a "made me cry" book. I cried not just because of what happens to some of the characters (well, all really), but because this isn't really fiction. It's scarily real. This shit happens. There are lots and lots of kids just like Anais and Tash and Isla and Shortie and all the rest, kids who had a rough start in life and have been stuck in the system ever since, kids who got dealt a shitty hand and have been punished for it ever since, kids who have been judged by the system, labelled and shelved. The panel hearing that Anais attends is very telling of the system's unsympathetic attitude:

"It is my belief that you cannot stop yourself, Miss Hendricks. Everything in your record tells me that you will keep offending. [...] And, should you be tried for one single offense more, then we have a court order to have you placed in a secure unit and detained until you are eighteen years old, without review. [...] I will personally advocate that she graduates to the maximum-security wing in the Panopticon at the earliest possible opportunity. We have pages"--the chairwoman brandishes a thick sheaf of papers--"pages and pages of charges, and this isn't even half of them. [...] It is my opinion, Miss Hendricks, that you are going to re-offend. Once you have done so, you will go into a secure unit. And when you get released from there, you will offend again and you will go on to spend your adult life in prison, which is exactly where you belong, because you, Miss Hendricks, present a considerable danger both to yourself and to all of society." [pp.151-2]


The trouble with our society (societies, in all their variance) is that they only allow for one way of being, one way of living and existing, as a way of maintaining order and the status quo. Yet a startlingly large portion of any society's population simply cannot mould itself to that one way of living, and they tend to pay a large price for resisting. Anais' friends, the adults that she knows from her time of living with Mother Teresa, are just such people - and so too is Anais. They take a lot of drugs, and paint portraits of penises, and have sex change operations, and live surrounded by stolen goods, and give vodka to children, and talk about gender and the true state of the world. It's the exact opposite of any developed, western country's idea of middle class surbabia a la 1955. It's seen as self-destructive, and dangerous, and subversive, and freakish. Anais' world isn't a pretty one, or a comfy one, or even a safe one. It's sad, but not surprising, that Anais drinks so much and takes so many drugs. And from that, perhaps, comes the hallucinations, the suspicion, the paranoia.

It's just me now. Chef's in the kitchen. Eric's in the office. Everyone else is at school. The watchtower windows reflect the sun, and the big bug-eyes stare, and it's totally obvious that watchtower doesnae even need staff in it; it just watches - all on its own. [p.57]


With Anais' history, it's also no surprise that she struggles with a sense of her own identity. There's a lost little girl trapped inside, and in an unguarded moment she once asks for her mummy - the one and only time she's let that wish slip free.

Identity problem. Fuck that. Fifty-odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem - I dinnae have an identity, just reflex reactions and a disappearing veil between this world and the next. [p.86]


With as hard-shelled and wise as Anais sometimes seems, it's easy to forget that she's just fifteen, and naive, and trusts the wrong people - like her ex, Jay. She remembers how it felt, after Mother Teresa died when she was eleven, how he held her and stroked her hair. (All anyone ever wants is to be held and loved, right?) He knows how to pull her strings, but I couldn't believe how stupid she could be. You'd think that you'd be more wise to sweet-talking selfish fuckheads after a life like hers, wouldn't you?

There are moments of sweetness in Anais' life that make her cling on, and yearn for something better - like the impromptu picnic on a little island in the lake, where she and Shortie and Tash and Isla talked and smoke and drank and ate junk food, and Shortie performed a wedding ceremony for Tash and Isla and Anais threw petals and gave them rings woven from grass. It is, perhaps, the happy memories that make the bad times so hard, the times of loss. Never is it more apparent just how alone and isolated these teenagers, these children, are. No one really cares. The police see them as nothing but trouble. They've seen things and experienced things that they can only share with each other, because only others like themselves understand, and never show pity.

This is a richly told story, perfectly written in Anais' voice, and readers may be spared from some graphic details but you're not spared from the unpleasant truths of her life. Fagan has given real teens like Anais a voice, and an uncompromising, honest look into their lives. I felt two things distinctly, while reading this: a strong protective urge, that motherly instinct to save and protect and support; and the understanding that that kids like Anais are not the enemy, or a fucked-up element of society beyond all hope: rather, that they are fucked-up elements of our society who have made a society all of their own, different, and bleak, and dangerous, and unforgiving, but still human, and full of human feeling. This was a brave book to write, considering how gutted I felt reading it, and a worthy one. The Panopticon introduces a strong, skilful and talented writer who presents an unflinching portrait of a young girl trying to find her place in a society that doesn't want her, and more importantly, to find herself.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> 3.46 2011 The Panopticon
author: Jenni Fagan
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.46
book published: 2011
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/08
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, tlc-book-tours, 2013, gritty-realism, fiction, made-me-cry
review:
Anais Hendricks is fifteen years old. That's fifteen years of living in care: foster homes, mostly, and "units" with other teens. In fact, she's been through over fifty "placements" already: twenty-four before she was seven, when she was adopted by a professional prostitute called Teresa; then another twenty-seven times from the age of eleven, when her new mother was killed by one of her clients in their apartment. She doesn't know who her real mother is - no one does - and she routinely plays the "birthday game", where she imagines a different start for herself, a family maybe, or a posh life in Paris. She'd love to go to Paris. But a strong part of her knows that the experiment is watching. It's always watching, waiting for the moment to take her back and reveal the test tube she came from and subject her to further experimentation.

Arriving at the Panopticon seems to fit right in with her theory about the experiment. It's a semi-circular building where the interior is open to the all-seeing watchtower in the middle; dating back to a pervious era and a life as an asylum, it's well fitted for wayward teens like Anais. She's been brought here by the police with blood all over her school uniform - but she hasn't been charged. There's no evidence that she put PC Craig in a coma, nothing but their prior volatile, antagonistic relationship and Anais's hefty track record: she's been brought in for countless acts of vandalism, violence, trafficking, and more. But while she doesn't remember anything from that day, she's sure she had nothing to do with the police constable's current state.

At the Panopticon, she meets and befriends the other girls: Tash, fifteen and working the streets at night; her girlfriend Isla, who has two-year-old twins living in foster care and cuts her belly out of guilt for passing AIDS onto them - a disease she had no idea she had, after catching it herself from using her father's drug kit one time; and Shortie, who picks a fight with Anais after which the two become close. There are boys here too: John, cute and a thief; twelve-year-old Dylan and Brian, whom they all hate after catching him doing something despicable. It's the only family Anais has, and it's not bad, as family's go. Even if the watchtower is always watching, and her social worker is never around to support her, and her ex-boyfriend keeps pestering her from jail.

But the tight net of the system is closing in on Anais. With her lengthy rap sheet and this unproven belief that she assaulted a cop and put the woman in a coma, her time of relative freedom is coming to an end. They want to put her away in the underage facility located on an island called John Kay, until she's eighteen and then, they predict, she'll end up in the regular adult jail. But Anais has a will, and has lived through enough bad shit and survived that she's not about to let this be her end. If there's one thing she has left to call her own, she reasons, it's her soul, and that the experiment can never have.

The Panopticon is a tough book to read, alright. It starts slow, not because nothing happens but because Anais' narrative voice takes a while to get the hang of (for non-Scottish readers, at least), and as it's written (correctly, with great skill) in present tense, you're launched right into her head and it's a bit like floundering in deep water, trying to get your head up and get your breath and your bearings. Anais is smart at school, when she goes, but she has a distinctly colloquial way of thinking/speaking, and in Scottish vernacular, so that her voice is strongly authentic. She's also a big drug taker, as well as an adolescent, and the way she thinks is reflective of both. It's highly realistic, and given the subject matter, this makes it a tough book to read.

Yet so, so worthwhile. On 카지노싸이트 I tagged this as a "made me cry" book. I cried not just because of what happens to some of the characters (well, all really), but because this isn't really fiction. It's scarily real. This shit happens. There are lots and lots of kids just like Anais and Tash and Isla and Shortie and all the rest, kids who had a rough start in life and have been stuck in the system ever since, kids who got dealt a shitty hand and have been punished for it ever since, kids who have been judged by the system, labelled and shelved. The panel hearing that Anais attends is very telling of the system's unsympathetic attitude:

"It is my belief that you cannot stop yourself, Miss Hendricks. Everything in your record tells me that you will keep offending. [...] And, should you be tried for one single offense more, then we have a court order to have you placed in a secure unit and detained until you are eighteen years old, without review. [...] I will personally advocate that she graduates to the maximum-security wing in the Panopticon at the earliest possible opportunity. We have pages"--the chairwoman brandishes a thick sheaf of papers--"pages and pages of charges, and this isn't even half of them. [...] It is my opinion, Miss Hendricks, that you are going to re-offend. Once you have done so, you will go into a secure unit. And when you get released from there, you will offend again and you will go on to spend your adult life in prison, which is exactly where you belong, because you, Miss Hendricks, present a considerable danger both to yourself and to all of society." [pp.151-2]


The trouble with our society (societies, in all their variance) is that they only allow for one way of being, one way of living and existing, as a way of maintaining order and the status quo. Yet a startlingly large portion of any society's population simply cannot mould itself to that one way of living, and they tend to pay a large price for resisting. Anais' friends, the adults that she knows from her time of living with Mother Teresa, are just such people - and so too is Anais. They take a lot of drugs, and paint portraits of penises, and have sex change operations, and live surrounded by stolen goods, and give vodka to children, and talk about gender and the true state of the world. It's the exact opposite of any developed, western country's idea of middle class surbabia a la 1955. It's seen as self-destructive, and dangerous, and subversive, and freakish. Anais' world isn't a pretty one, or a comfy one, or even a safe one. It's sad, but not surprising, that Anais drinks so much and takes so many drugs. And from that, perhaps, comes the hallucinations, the suspicion, the paranoia.

It's just me now. Chef's in the kitchen. Eric's in the office. Everyone else is at school. The watchtower windows reflect the sun, and the big bug-eyes stare, and it's totally obvious that watchtower doesnae even need staff in it; it just watches - all on its own. [p.57]


With Anais' history, it's also no surprise that she struggles with a sense of her own identity. There's a lost little girl trapped inside, and in an unguarded moment she once asks for her mummy - the one and only time she's let that wish slip free.

Identity problem. Fuck that. Fifty-odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem - I dinnae have an identity, just reflex reactions and a disappearing veil between this world and the next. [p.86]


With as hard-shelled and wise as Anais sometimes seems, it's easy to forget that she's just fifteen, and naive, and trusts the wrong people - like her ex, Jay. She remembers how it felt, after Mother Teresa died when she was eleven, how he held her and stroked her hair. (All anyone ever wants is to be held and loved, right?) He knows how to pull her strings, but I couldn't believe how stupid she could be. You'd think that you'd be more wise to sweet-talking selfish fuckheads after a life like hers, wouldn't you?

There are moments of sweetness in Anais' life that make her cling on, and yearn for something better - like the impromptu picnic on a little island in the lake, where she and Shortie and Tash and Isla talked and smoke and drank and ate junk food, and Shortie performed a wedding ceremony for Tash and Isla and Anais threw petals and gave them rings woven from grass. It is, perhaps, the happy memories that make the bad times so hard, the times of loss. Never is it more apparent just how alone and isolated these teenagers, these children, are. No one really cares. The police see them as nothing but trouble. They've seen things and experienced things that they can only share with each other, because only others like themselves understand, and never show pity.

This is a richly told story, perfectly written in Anais' voice, and readers may be spared from some graphic details but you're not spared from the unpleasant truths of her life. Fagan has given real teens like Anais a voice, and an uncompromising, honest look into their lives. I felt two things distinctly, while reading this: a strong protective urge, that motherly instinct to save and protect and support; and the understanding that that kids like Anais are not the enemy, or a fucked-up element of society beyond all hope: rather, that they are fucked-up elements of our society who have made a society all of their own, different, and bleak, and dangerous, and unforgiving, but still human, and full of human feeling. This was a brave book to write, considering how gutted I felt reading it, and a worthy one. The Panopticon introduces a strong, skilful and talented writer who presents an unflinching portrait of a young girl trying to find her place in a society that doesn't want her, and more importantly, to find herself.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.

]]> <![CDATA[The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden]]> 17299489 This morning, I woke up on the ceiling ... So begins the strange story of Gwendolyn Golden. One perfectly ordinary day for no apparent reason, she wakes up floating around her room like one of her little brother’s Batman balloons.

Puberty is weird enough. Everyone already thinks she’s an oddball with anger issues because her father vanished in a mysterious storm one night when she was six. Then there are the mean, false rumours people are spreading about her at school. On top of all that, now she’s a flying freak.

How can she tell her best friend or her mother? How can she live her life? After Gwendolyn almost meets disaster flying too high and too fast one night, help arrives from the most unexpected place. And stranger still? She’s not alone.

]]> 200 Philippa Dowding 1459707362 Shannon 4 This morning I wake up on the ceiling.

Gwendolyn Golden lives with her mum and her much younger siblings, twins Christopher and Christine - or as she calls them, "the Chrissies" - and her fat beagle, Cassie. Gwendolyn is already going through a rough patch: now in grade eight, she's experienced changes brought on by puberty and is still dealing with the ongoing anger management problem that she's had since her dad disappeared during a storm before the twins were born. And now, on this fateful morning, she wakes up floating on the ceiling. Several mornings in a row, Gwen wakes up bumping gently against the ceiling and then against the screen window in her bedroom.

At first, Gwen has no control over it and her body threatens to float away during class - she worries about what might happen if she floated off into the sky while walking down the street. But soon, oblique comments made to her by two unlikely adults in her small town make her realise that she's not alone; and that, in fact, her ability to fly is something she inherited. Gwendolyn's coming-of-age journey will bring her up close to the truth of her new-found skill, and the decision of a lifetime.

It's a rough age, being thirteen, fourteen years old and in the thick of all the changes that come with adolescence. Gwen has the added issue of losing her father years ago under mysterious circumstances. This detail is initially provided more as insight into understanding her anger issues, than a plot point, but as you can guess it does turn out to be very pertinent to the plot. Yet despite Gwen's habit of blowing up at small provocations at school, she narrates her story with intelligent wit and more than a dash of irony. Like many teens, the character of Gwen is a precarious and sometimes volatile balance of childlike immaturity and wisdom, naïveté and insight, adolescent foolishness and glib artfulness. Gwen is on the cusp, and this is her coming-of-age story.

What I really admired, alongside the writing itself, was Dowding's ability to maintain this fine balance. She put Gwendolyn in situations that forced her to confront her issues, thus putting her on the path to maturity, without making her grow up too fast. Gwen was able to keep hold of her childhood; it just became richer. I'm reminded of one of my favourite characters who similarly embodies this fine line between childhood and maturity: Danny from Roald Dahl's .

There are times when Gwen's obstinateness and suspicious nature hold her back, but that too is something she must learn: trusting her instincts, but also how to turn to others and let herself be a child in the protection of adults. Another tricky line to straddle, in life as well as fiction. And it's not helped, in Gwen's case, by the fact that her body has taken on a life of her own. In the beginning I read Gwen's sense of alienation with her body as a figurative representation of puberty; later, I came to read it as fantasy enriched with that layer of organic human matter that makes fantasy, as a genre, so appealing to us.

As soon as my body is free, it floats lazily toward the ceiling, where it bounces around for a few minutes, then settles gently, bumping up and down against the ceiling tiles.

I realize that I'm now talking about my body like an "it," like it's no longer connected to the rest of me. But that's what it feels like. As if my body is totally in charge, and I'm just going along for the ride.

Which I guess I am.


This is very much Gwen's story, and while there are sub-plots and supporting characters who are relevant and interesting, they're not as vividly rendered as Gwen. Rather, because we see Gwen's world through her eyes, her understanding, her adolescent perspective, we get a true-to-type view of the people in her life. Gwen is fairly self-absorbed, at times judgemental, quick to react and not very curious about other people or how they're feeling. Not every teen is like that, or like that in the same way as Gwen, but it is part of Gwen's coming-of-age narration that her world view enlarges and she becomes more sympathetic and even empathetic of others. She still has a way to go, but it's a process that takes people years if not decades to learn.

I read this as a standalone novel, and while I'm not sure if it is one or not (I have since read that it's the first in a series but I don't know if that's true or not; I should just ask the author eh?), I loved it as a standalone book. It's kind of old-school, in that way, and maybe I'm traditional, but I loved the open-endedness to this story, and how Dowding created a fascinating layer to our world without removing the mystery and magic of it by explaining too much, thereby leaving plenty up to your own imagination. Dowding successfully balances humour and a touch of silliness with a dark menace that adds a macabre atmosphere to the story.

The decision that Gwen ultimately has to make can again be read metaphorically: in this pivotal time in a person's life, many decisions we make are there to stay with us the rest of our lives. To some extent, we are shaped during our adolescence. Gwen's decision is not merely about flying, but about how she will live her life. The ending can be viewed in several lights. It touches on genetics, and how these affect our lives, especially our future health and well-being. And it touches on the self: self-esteem, the creation of a personal identity, the need to be true to yourself, and the understanding that while the way others see you can deeply hurt you, you shouldn't let it shape you.

The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden is the kind of coming-of-age story that resonates. Combining teen angst with magic and a dash of mystery creates a richly layered story, and Dowding presents a heroine that readers of all ages will surely be able to relate to. Humorous and touching, The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden is like a finely-tuned musical instrument that, when thrummed, you feel in your very bones.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> 3.60 2014 The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden
author: Philippa Dowding
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2014
rating: 4
read at: 2013/09/14
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: netgalley, ya, review-copy, e-book, 2013, speculative-fiction, coming-of-age
review:
This morning I wake up on the ceiling.

Gwendolyn Golden lives with her mum and her much younger siblings, twins Christopher and Christine - or as she calls them, "the Chrissies" - and her fat beagle, Cassie. Gwendolyn is already going through a rough patch: now in grade eight, she's experienced changes brought on by puberty and is still dealing with the ongoing anger management problem that she's had since her dad disappeared during a storm before the twins were born. And now, on this fateful morning, she wakes up floating on the ceiling. Several mornings in a row, Gwen wakes up bumping gently against the ceiling and then against the screen window in her bedroom.

At first, Gwen has no control over it and her body threatens to float away during class - she worries about what might happen if she floated off into the sky while walking down the street. But soon, oblique comments made to her by two unlikely adults in her small town make her realise that she's not alone; and that, in fact, her ability to fly is something she inherited. Gwendolyn's coming-of-age journey will bring her up close to the truth of her new-found skill, and the decision of a lifetime.

It's a rough age, being thirteen, fourteen years old and in the thick of all the changes that come with adolescence. Gwen has the added issue of losing her father years ago under mysterious circumstances. This detail is initially provided more as insight into understanding her anger issues, than a plot point, but as you can guess it does turn out to be very pertinent to the plot. Yet despite Gwen's habit of blowing up at small provocations at school, she narrates her story with intelligent wit and more than a dash of irony. Like many teens, the character of Gwen is a precarious and sometimes volatile balance of childlike immaturity and wisdom, naïveté and insight, adolescent foolishness and glib artfulness. Gwen is on the cusp, and this is her coming-of-age story.

What I really admired, alongside the writing itself, was Dowding's ability to maintain this fine balance. She put Gwendolyn in situations that forced her to confront her issues, thus putting her on the path to maturity, without making her grow up too fast. Gwen was able to keep hold of her childhood; it just became richer. I'm reminded of one of my favourite characters who similarly embodies this fine line between childhood and maturity: Danny from Roald Dahl's .

There are times when Gwen's obstinateness and suspicious nature hold her back, but that too is something she must learn: trusting her instincts, but also how to turn to others and let herself be a child in the protection of adults. Another tricky line to straddle, in life as well as fiction. And it's not helped, in Gwen's case, by the fact that her body has taken on a life of her own. In the beginning I read Gwen's sense of alienation with her body as a figurative representation of puberty; later, I came to read it as fantasy enriched with that layer of organic human matter that makes fantasy, as a genre, so appealing to us.

As soon as my body is free, it floats lazily toward the ceiling, where it bounces around for a few minutes, then settles gently, bumping up and down against the ceiling tiles.

I realize that I'm now talking about my body like an "it," like it's no longer connected to the rest of me. But that's what it feels like. As if my body is totally in charge, and I'm just going along for the ride.

Which I guess I am.


This is very much Gwen's story, and while there are sub-plots and supporting characters who are relevant and interesting, they're not as vividly rendered as Gwen. Rather, because we see Gwen's world through her eyes, her understanding, her adolescent perspective, we get a true-to-type view of the people in her life. Gwen is fairly self-absorbed, at times judgemental, quick to react and not very curious about other people or how they're feeling. Not every teen is like that, or like that in the same way as Gwen, but it is part of Gwen's coming-of-age narration that her world view enlarges and she becomes more sympathetic and even empathetic of others. She still has a way to go, but it's a process that takes people years if not decades to learn.

I read this as a standalone novel, and while I'm not sure if it is one or not (I have since read that it's the first in a series but I don't know if that's true or not; I should just ask the author eh?), I loved it as a standalone book. It's kind of old-school, in that way, and maybe I'm traditional, but I loved the open-endedness to this story, and how Dowding created a fascinating layer to our world without removing the mystery and magic of it by explaining too much, thereby leaving plenty up to your own imagination. Dowding successfully balances humour and a touch of silliness with a dark menace that adds a macabre atmosphere to the story.

The decision that Gwen ultimately has to make can again be read metaphorically: in this pivotal time in a person's life, many decisions we make are there to stay with us the rest of our lives. To some extent, we are shaped during our adolescence. Gwen's decision is not merely about flying, but about how she will live her life. The ending can be viewed in several lights. It touches on genetics, and how these affect our lives, especially our future health and well-being. And it touches on the self: self-esteem, the creation of a personal identity, the need to be true to yourself, and the understanding that while the way others see you can deeply hurt you, you shouldn't let it shape you.

The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden is the kind of coming-of-age story that resonates. Combining teen angst with magic and a dash of mystery creates a richly layered story, and Dowding presents a heroine that readers of all ages will surely be able to relate to. Humorous and touching, The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden is like a finely-tuned musical instrument that, when thrummed, you feel in your very bones.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.

]]> DOCTOR WHO: DARK HORIZONS 17182140
On a windswept northern shore, the islanders believe the worst they have to fear is a Viking attack. Then the burning comes. Water will not stop it. It consumes everything in its path - yet the burned still speak.

The Doctor encounters a people under attack from a power they cannot possibly understand. They have no weapons, no strategy and no protectin against a fire sent to engulf them all. The islanders must take on a ruthless alien force in a world without technology; but at least they have the Doctor on their side... Don't they?]]> 309 Jenny T. Colgan 184990457X Shannon 4
On a Viking ship headed to Iceland, Henrik - a farm boy given the chance to fulfil his dream of being a Viking warrior - helps guard their most precious cargo: Freydis, daughter of the Duke of Trondheim, who has sent her off to marry the King of Iceland, Gissar Polvaderson. Gissar is old, fat and extremely ugly, and Freydis is not going quietly. But suddenly, she is the least of any Viking's worries: when within sight of land - a weather-exposed Scottish island - a great tentacle of fire bursts from the sea and sets the ship alight. Men fall overboard and are quickly caught by the flames before they hit the water. Utter destruction seems imminent, and only Henrik remembers to release Freydis from her locked storage closet.

On the island, the Doctor has arrived by TARDIS and made his way to the small village near the coast, which is deserted. Everyone has rushed down to the beach to watch the Viking ship approach, bringing their deadliest enemies with it. When the inexplicable fire reaches out like an arm to the ship, no one is moved to help - except the Doctor.

Bringing the poor singed survivors to the hostile islanders, the Doctor encourages everyone to get along while he promises to help them solve the mystery and get rid of the threat. But this is no ordinary fire, and it has a purpose, a desperate, desperate purpose. Can the Doctor figure it out and solve it before more lives are lost?

While I grew up watching Doctor Who on the telly - the ABC used to show it every weekday at 6pm during the season, back in the day when a single storyline took 6 half-hour episodes to tell - this is the first time I've read any Doctor Who fanfiction. (I'm not, in fact, a reader of fanfiction in general, and don't seek it out.) Nevertheless, I was excited to have the chance to try it, and while it was both better than I'd expected and also not quite as good as I would have liked, it was certainly hugely entertaining.

Fans of the contemporary Doctor Who series will surely recognise the eleventh Doctor; Colgan has done a superb job of capturing the nuances and body language, the quiet loneliness tinged with hopeful sadness, the vague dithering punctuated by moments of piercing clarity, the classic eccentricities that mark all the incarnations of the Doctor: fripperies of attire, for example, and a preference for hot tea or some similar foodstuff. The character of the Doctor comes across at once as approachable and knowable, and yet also utterly alien. She was able to bring the reader as close to him as you possibly can, while still retaining that sense of mystery and higher thought, of the gulf of utter loneliness - all of which is made more tangible if you come with some prior understanding of the Doctor's character. Colgan does not expound on a lot of backstory. Alongside his more melancholy side is his trademark humour, which Colgan captures perfectly:

Two men brought forward Corc's boat. It was incredibly small, made of tightly stitched animal skins stretched taut over a frame of bowed wood, with two light paddles. It didn't look seaworthy for a Sunday duck pond, never mind the wild North Atlantic.
The Doctor coughed politely. 'Well! Isn't she just lovely! Great!'
He took the boat from the men with thanks. It hardly weighed anything.
'OK, let me just go... with this boat... and sort everything out... Who needs a TARDIS, I am perfectly happy not bothering the local ecosystem and causing mass panic... perfectly.'
He reached the water's edge, took off his shoes and dipped in a toe.
'It is rather parky, isn't it? I remember this from yesterday.'
He put the boat down on the bobbing waves. It immediately capsized.
'Ha! So funny when they do that, isn't it.' [p.79]


True also to the formula, while the Doctor arrives on the island alone, he manages to acquire a couple of temporary assistants: Henrik and Freydis. These two have their own side story going, with a backstory about Henrik surviving a plunge under the ice as a boy and becoming the Miracle Boy who came back to life. Freydis is arrogant and superior with a firm belief in the Gods' plans for her; she matures considerably over the course of the book, and a romance - of the tender, innocent variety Doctor Who is known for - blossoms between them.

The actual plot is interesting and with such high stakes - people die in this story - there's considerable tension. The truth of the fire is intriguing and a problem not easily solved, and you're never really sure what the Doctor is doing or thinking until the last moment.

While Colgan shows an ability to write good, well-researched historical fiction and brings to life the community, culture and individuals of the period and setting, the pace did at times become a little slow - little lulls before the storm, so to speak. I didn't mind except that when the pace drops, so does the momentum. There were several facets to the story: Vikings, more Vikings, Henrik's story, Freydis' coming-of-age, the chief's son Eoric, villagers Brogan and her partner, Braan, the fire, and little Luag, the chief's other son, who is adorably sweet. There's plenty going on here, and yet it did lose some oomph somewhere around the halfway-to-three-quarters mark. I was surprised at the number of typos and other glitches in the text - including a sentence that abruptly ends before it's finished - but these don't detract from the strength of the story. The ending was good, and overall Dark Horizons was an entertaining, thoughtful, satisfying and mostly exciting novel that successfully brought to life the eleventh Doctor.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.80 2012 DOCTOR WHO: DARK HORIZONS
author: Jenny T. Colgan
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.80
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/31
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: tlc-book-tours, review-copy, sci-fi, 2013, fanfiction, fantasy
review:
Based on the character of the 11th Doctor as played by Matt Smith, Jenny T Colgan has brought the Time Lord to life in this well-written, authentic and tightly-paced historical science fiction story.

On a Viking ship headed to Iceland, Henrik - a farm boy given the chance to fulfil his dream of being a Viking warrior - helps guard their most precious cargo: Freydis, daughter of the Duke of Trondheim, who has sent her off to marry the King of Iceland, Gissar Polvaderson. Gissar is old, fat and extremely ugly, and Freydis is not going quietly. But suddenly, she is the least of any Viking's worries: when within sight of land - a weather-exposed Scottish island - a great tentacle of fire bursts from the sea and sets the ship alight. Men fall overboard and are quickly caught by the flames before they hit the water. Utter destruction seems imminent, and only Henrik remembers to release Freydis from her locked storage closet.

On the island, the Doctor has arrived by TARDIS and made his way to the small village near the coast, which is deserted. Everyone has rushed down to the beach to watch the Viking ship approach, bringing their deadliest enemies with it. When the inexplicable fire reaches out like an arm to the ship, no one is moved to help - except the Doctor.

Bringing the poor singed survivors to the hostile islanders, the Doctor encourages everyone to get along while he promises to help them solve the mystery and get rid of the threat. But this is no ordinary fire, and it has a purpose, a desperate, desperate purpose. Can the Doctor figure it out and solve it before more lives are lost?

While I grew up watching Doctor Who on the telly - the ABC used to show it every weekday at 6pm during the season, back in the day when a single storyline took 6 half-hour episodes to tell - this is the first time I've read any Doctor Who fanfiction. (I'm not, in fact, a reader of fanfiction in general, and don't seek it out.) Nevertheless, I was excited to have the chance to try it, and while it was both better than I'd expected and also not quite as good as I would have liked, it was certainly hugely entertaining.

Fans of the contemporary Doctor Who series will surely recognise the eleventh Doctor; Colgan has done a superb job of capturing the nuances and body language, the quiet loneliness tinged with hopeful sadness, the vague dithering punctuated by moments of piercing clarity, the classic eccentricities that mark all the incarnations of the Doctor: fripperies of attire, for example, and a preference for hot tea or some similar foodstuff. The character of the Doctor comes across at once as approachable and knowable, and yet also utterly alien. She was able to bring the reader as close to him as you possibly can, while still retaining that sense of mystery and higher thought, of the gulf of utter loneliness - all of which is made more tangible if you come with some prior understanding of the Doctor's character. Colgan does not expound on a lot of backstory. Alongside his more melancholy side is his trademark humour, which Colgan captures perfectly:

Two men brought forward Corc's boat. It was incredibly small, made of tightly stitched animal skins stretched taut over a frame of bowed wood, with two light paddles. It didn't look seaworthy for a Sunday duck pond, never mind the wild North Atlantic.
The Doctor coughed politely. 'Well! Isn't she just lovely! Great!'
He took the boat from the men with thanks. It hardly weighed anything.
'OK, let me just go... with this boat... and sort everything out... Who needs a TARDIS, I am perfectly happy not bothering the local ecosystem and causing mass panic... perfectly.'
He reached the water's edge, took off his shoes and dipped in a toe.
'It is rather parky, isn't it? I remember this from yesterday.'
He put the boat down on the bobbing waves. It immediately capsized.
'Ha! So funny when they do that, isn't it.' [p.79]


True also to the formula, while the Doctor arrives on the island alone, he manages to acquire a couple of temporary assistants: Henrik and Freydis. These two have their own side story going, with a backstory about Henrik surviving a plunge under the ice as a boy and becoming the Miracle Boy who came back to life. Freydis is arrogant and superior with a firm belief in the Gods' plans for her; she matures considerably over the course of the book, and a romance - of the tender, innocent variety Doctor Who is known for - blossoms between them.

The actual plot is interesting and with such high stakes - people die in this story - there's considerable tension. The truth of the fire is intriguing and a problem not easily solved, and you're never really sure what the Doctor is doing or thinking until the last moment.

While Colgan shows an ability to write good, well-researched historical fiction and brings to life the community, culture and individuals of the period and setting, the pace did at times become a little slow - little lulls before the storm, so to speak. I didn't mind except that when the pace drops, so does the momentum. There were several facets to the story: Vikings, more Vikings, Henrik's story, Freydis' coming-of-age, the chief's son Eoric, villagers Brogan and her partner, Braan, the fire, and little Luag, the chief's other son, who is adorably sweet. There's plenty going on here, and yet it did lose some oomph somewhere around the halfway-to-three-quarters mark. I was surprised at the number of typos and other glitches in the text - including a sentence that abruptly ends before it's finished - but these don't detract from the strength of the story. The ending was good, and overall Dark Horizons was an entertaining, thoughtful, satisfying and mostly exciting novel that successfully brought to life the eleventh Doctor.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> The Book of Someday 17396179
Someday, Livvi Gray will break free from her past. Someday, she will escape her recurring nightmare about that stranger in a shimmering silver dress. Someday, she will have a family of her own. Now she's found Andrew, and someday seems to be right around the corner. But there's so much Livvi doesn't know.

Shortly before her thirtieth birthday, she will come face-to-face with the stranger from her dream-an encounter that will alter Livvi's future and crack open everything she knew about her past. Livvi is swiftly moving toward the ultimate turning point in her life-and she's not the only one. Linked by an unforgettable mystery, photographer Micah and young mother AnnaLee are also being rapidly drawn into a web of devastating secrets about the unexpected ways in which we choose to protect-and betray-the people we love.]]> 335 Dianne Dixon 1402285728 Shannon 4 The Book of Someday is much more than a simple coming-of-age story and it is more than a mystery: it is a story that gives voice to neglected, lonely children who carry the scars of a dismal childhood at the hands of selfish parents or guardians long into adulthood. It is a story of making mistakes and atoning for them, and of seeking forgiveness - or not. It is a sad but ultimately hopeful story about growing up and becoming a better version of your lonely, neglected childhood self.

In 2012, Livvi is finding a measure of happiness and peace with herself after the release of her first novel, at twenty-six, a book more autobiography than fiction - a fact she keeps to herself. It is a story about growing up with a silent, angry father and an abusive, domineering stepmother called Calista. It is an attempt to take charge of her life, several years after she severed all ties with her father, but she's still the product of her isolated upbringing: naïve and innocent, insecure with the certainty that she's unloveable, and inexperienced in the ways of relationships. When she meets Andrew, a successful PR man in his early forties, the heady heights of passion and love fill the void within her. He is her first in so many ways, so that when she discovers parts of his life that had been kept from her, she is torn between her instincts and her understanding that she can never come first for him, and her feelings that she will never find love again, that this is her only chance.

Meanwhile, also in 2012, beautiful, sexy photographer of worldwide renown, Micah Lesser, has just learned that she has advanced breast cancer. In the wake of this news and a hopeful plan for treatment, Micah has a more pressing question weighing on her conscience: given the grave mistakes of her past, does she deserve the right to fight this and live? Or should she pay for her past mistake with her own life? She begins to search out people she hasn't seen in decades, to find some kind of answer, some sign of forgiveness or redemption, or permission to live. Her journey takes her across the United States, into the murky shadows of her adolescence in which hide the monsters of her true self.

And in 1986, young wife and mother AnnaLee is anxious about keeping her family afloat: her husband, Jack, was a skilled surgeon but lacked the stomach for blood; now he's a lawyer but lacks the killer instinct, preferring to leave the office early and come home to read and play with his daughter, Bella. They live in the house AnnaLee's parents built, a beautiful house full of precious artwork and antiques, which she is being forced to slowly sell off in order to pay the bills. The summer is made more fraught by Jack agreeing to take in his teenaged niece for a few months, a rebellious, rude and wild girl whom everyone has washed their hands of. Only AnnaLee takes the time to slowly connect with her niece, to befriend her and show her that she too is worthy of love and affection - and trust.

These three women, and their lives, are bound by one terrible night, and one terrible vision: the woman in the shimmering dress and pearl-button shoes. AnnaLee has a painting of this woman hanging on her living room wall. Micah is haunted by another, similar portrait, and Livvi has had nightmares of this woman for most of her life. What is the connection, and what will they learn about themselves in unravelling the truth?

You can read The Book of Someday as a tightly woven mystery, a coming-of-age story with a delicious gothic atmosphere, or even as a romance of sorts. It is all of these things, and while the plot provides structure and momentum, it is ultimately a story about people and the relationships we form - or the ones thrust upon us, and the consequences of betraying the trust of a child. The thing that really got to me, as it always does (most especially since becoming a mother myself), is the character of the child who wants to be loved, to be hugged and spend time with their parents, to talk to them and be listened to and to learn from them, but who are denied for one reason or another. Both Livvi and Micah had failed childhoods. Livvi grew up believing her mother was a socialite who ran away, and her stepmother embellished this by telling young Olivia that she left because Livvi was such a horrible child. Micah's mother was a world-famous opera singer who travelled the world and had certain expectations of her daughter, none of which young Micah wanted to fulfil, while her father, his wife's manager, figured the best thing to do was to give his daughter space - without realising that what she really needed was parents who were present and there for her. My heart ached for both of them.

Contrasted to this is AnnaLee, a loving, caring, nurturing woman who showers love on her baby daughter and shares all she has with her niece when she comes to stay, riding the waves of the girl's anger and vitriol and being there for her. It makes what happens all the more heartbreaking, and gives a extra layer of sadness to Livvi's broken, loveless childhood and Micah's bitter, resentful, loveless adulthood. The strength of the novel lies in this juxtaposition of characters and emotion, in the contrast of "what is" with "what could have been".

The prose lends itself well to this emotional, atmospheric tale, though it did take me a while to get used to it. Dixon writes in present tense - the liberal use of which, these days, is a bit of a pet peeve of mine - but with her own writerly style. The occasional use of fragmented sentences - "A sound. Very faint. Is coming from outside. The crunch of tires on gravel. As if a car has pulled into the driveway. And stopped." [p.248] - lends itself well to the construction of heightened drama and tension, that feeling of time stopping or things becoming jarring. Dixon also uses more progressive verbs where usually you would expect simple present tense verbs - "Now her knees actually are buckling. One of them is banging against a cabinet door, and the door's wrought-iron handle is opening a gash on her kneecap." [p.73 - my emphasis] - which I did find a bit harder to read, as it doesn't give you a break from the sense of forward momentum. The use of present tense is also unusual in that the story is written completely from the third person. At first, reading it reminded me of when my toddler pushed some buttons on the remote control and the voice-over narration - like "He opens the fridge", "Some people are staring in the background"; that kind of thing - for the visually-impaired got turned on. But after a while you settle into it and it propels you along, guiding you through the twists and turns of the story.

While it begins with the sense of three completely unrelated stories and a great deal of mystery, it gives the reader an active role to play in piecing it all together - and I always much prefer to be an active reader than a passive, or excluded, one. You connect the dots at a slow pace because of how things are revealed, which enables you to focus on the story without being thoroughly distracted by the mystery side of things. The characters are never overshadowed by the plot, but are richly fleshed-out and realistic. I did find myself a little frustrated with Livvi - she has a lot to learn over the course of the novel and while she does find strength in herself, she reminded me a little too much of Christine Feehan's vapid innocent heroines (I would have been more sympathetic toward Livvi if I hadn't read a Feehan romance novel in my life, I'm sure), a contrast all the more acute because she's so drastically different from Micah, who is strong, selfish, successful, confident, arrogant, superior, greedy. I liked Micah more as a character, because she was less obvious, more complex, and the sympathy I felt for her was harder won, gradual and full of shades of grey.

As in Livvi's published novel, the ending of Dixon's The Book of Someday is rather ambiguous. I know which way I want it to end, but I have to give credit to Dixon for presenting Livvi with a legitimate dilemma. I just hate to think of her giving up true happiness only for the sake of giving a neglected child the love and attention she had lacked in her own childhood - I'm not a fan of martyrs, clearly. It's a powerful story that made me fight back tears, a compelling narrative of love, loss and grief as well as the need for redemption.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 3.60 2013 The Book of Someday
author: Dianne Dixon
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/23
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: fiction, review-copy, 2013, mystery-suspense
review:
The Book of Someday is much more than a simple coming-of-age story and it is more than a mystery: it is a story that gives voice to neglected, lonely children who carry the scars of a dismal childhood at the hands of selfish parents or guardians long into adulthood. It is a story of making mistakes and atoning for them, and of seeking forgiveness - or not. It is a sad but ultimately hopeful story about growing up and becoming a better version of your lonely, neglected childhood self.

In 2012, Livvi is finding a measure of happiness and peace with herself after the release of her first novel, at twenty-six, a book more autobiography than fiction - a fact she keeps to herself. It is a story about growing up with a silent, angry father and an abusive, domineering stepmother called Calista. It is an attempt to take charge of her life, several years after she severed all ties with her father, but she's still the product of her isolated upbringing: naïve and innocent, insecure with the certainty that she's unloveable, and inexperienced in the ways of relationships. When she meets Andrew, a successful PR man in his early forties, the heady heights of passion and love fill the void within her. He is her first in so many ways, so that when she discovers parts of his life that had been kept from her, she is torn between her instincts and her understanding that she can never come first for him, and her feelings that she will never find love again, that this is her only chance.

Meanwhile, also in 2012, beautiful, sexy photographer of worldwide renown, Micah Lesser, has just learned that she has advanced breast cancer. In the wake of this news and a hopeful plan for treatment, Micah has a more pressing question weighing on her conscience: given the grave mistakes of her past, does she deserve the right to fight this and live? Or should she pay for her past mistake with her own life? She begins to search out people she hasn't seen in decades, to find some kind of answer, some sign of forgiveness or redemption, or permission to live. Her journey takes her across the United States, into the murky shadows of her adolescence in which hide the monsters of her true self.

And in 1986, young wife and mother AnnaLee is anxious about keeping her family afloat: her husband, Jack, was a skilled surgeon but lacked the stomach for blood; now he's a lawyer but lacks the killer instinct, preferring to leave the office early and come home to read and play with his daughter, Bella. They live in the house AnnaLee's parents built, a beautiful house full of precious artwork and antiques, which she is being forced to slowly sell off in order to pay the bills. The summer is made more fraught by Jack agreeing to take in his teenaged niece for a few months, a rebellious, rude and wild girl whom everyone has washed their hands of. Only AnnaLee takes the time to slowly connect with her niece, to befriend her and show her that she too is worthy of love and affection - and trust.

These three women, and their lives, are bound by one terrible night, and one terrible vision: the woman in the shimmering dress and pearl-button shoes. AnnaLee has a painting of this woman hanging on her living room wall. Micah is haunted by another, similar portrait, and Livvi has had nightmares of this woman for most of her life. What is the connection, and what will they learn about themselves in unravelling the truth?

You can read The Book of Someday as a tightly woven mystery, a coming-of-age story with a delicious gothic atmosphere, or even as a romance of sorts. It is all of these things, and while the plot provides structure and momentum, it is ultimately a story about people and the relationships we form - or the ones thrust upon us, and the consequences of betraying the trust of a child. The thing that really got to me, as it always does (most especially since becoming a mother myself), is the character of the child who wants to be loved, to be hugged and spend time with their parents, to talk to them and be listened to and to learn from them, but who are denied for one reason or another. Both Livvi and Micah had failed childhoods. Livvi grew up believing her mother was a socialite who ran away, and her stepmother embellished this by telling young Olivia that she left because Livvi was such a horrible child. Micah's mother was a world-famous opera singer who travelled the world and had certain expectations of her daughter, none of which young Micah wanted to fulfil, while her father, his wife's manager, figured the best thing to do was to give his daughter space - without realising that what she really needed was parents who were present and there for her. My heart ached for both of them.

Contrasted to this is AnnaLee, a loving, caring, nurturing woman who showers love on her baby daughter and shares all she has with her niece when she comes to stay, riding the waves of the girl's anger and vitriol and being there for her. It makes what happens all the more heartbreaking, and gives a extra layer of sadness to Livvi's broken, loveless childhood and Micah's bitter, resentful, loveless adulthood. The strength of the novel lies in this juxtaposition of characters and emotion, in the contrast of "what is" with "what could have been".

The prose lends itself well to this emotional, atmospheric tale, though it did take me a while to get used to it. Dixon writes in present tense - the liberal use of which, these days, is a bit of a pet peeve of mine - but with her own writerly style. The occasional use of fragmented sentences - "A sound. Very faint. Is coming from outside. The crunch of tires on gravel. As if a car has pulled into the driveway. And stopped." [p.248] - lends itself well to the construction of heightened drama and tension, that feeling of time stopping or things becoming jarring. Dixon also uses more progressive verbs where usually you would expect simple present tense verbs - "Now her knees actually are buckling. One of them is banging against a cabinet door, and the door's wrought-iron handle is opening a gash on her kneecap." [p.73 - my emphasis] - which I did find a bit harder to read, as it doesn't give you a break from the sense of forward momentum. The use of present tense is also unusual in that the story is written completely from the third person. At first, reading it reminded me of when my toddler pushed some buttons on the remote control and the voice-over narration - like "He opens the fridge", "Some people are staring in the background"; that kind of thing - for the visually-impaired got turned on. But after a while you settle into it and it propels you along, guiding you through the twists and turns of the story.

While it begins with the sense of three completely unrelated stories and a great deal of mystery, it gives the reader an active role to play in piecing it all together - and I always much prefer to be an active reader than a passive, or excluded, one. You connect the dots at a slow pace because of how things are revealed, which enables you to focus on the story without being thoroughly distracted by the mystery side of things. The characters are never overshadowed by the plot, but are richly fleshed-out and realistic. I did find myself a little frustrated with Livvi - she has a lot to learn over the course of the novel and while she does find strength in herself, she reminded me a little too much of Christine Feehan's vapid innocent heroines (I would have been more sympathetic toward Livvi if I hadn't read a Feehan romance novel in my life, I'm sure), a contrast all the more acute because she's so drastically different from Micah, who is strong, selfish, successful, confident, arrogant, superior, greedy. I liked Micah more as a character, because she was less obvious, more complex, and the sympathy I felt for her was harder won, gradual and full of shades of grey.

As in Livvi's published novel, the ending of Dixon's The Book of Someday is rather ambiguous. I know which way I want it to end, but I have to give credit to Dixon for presenting Livvi with a legitimate dilemma. I just hate to think of her giving up true happiness only for the sake of giving a neglected child the love and attention she had lacked in her own childhood - I'm not a fan of martyrs, clearly. It's a powerful story that made me fight back tears, a compelling narrative of love, loss and grief as well as the need for redemption.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> <![CDATA[Seduction (Reincarnationist, #5)]]> 15802432 The Book of Lost Fragrances comes a haunting novel about a grieving woman who discovers the lost journal of novelist Victor Hugo, awakening a mystery that spans centuries.

In 1843, novelist Victor Hugo’s beloved nineteen-year-old daughter drowned. Ten years later, Hugo began participating in hundreds of séances to reestablish contact with her. In the process, he claimed to have communed with the likes of Plato, Galileo, Shakespeare, Dante, Jesus—and even the Devil himself. Hugo’s transcriptions of these conversations have all been published. Or so it was believed.

Recovering from her own losses, mythologist Jac L’Etoile arrives on the Isle of Jersey—where Hugo conducted the séances—hoping to uncover a secret about the island’s Celtic roots. But the man who’s invited her there, a troubled soul named Theo Gaspard, has hopes she’ll help him discover something quite different—Hugo’s lost conversations with someone called the Shadow of the Sepulcher.

What follows is an intricately plotted and atmospheric tale of suspense with a spellbinding ghost story at its heart.]]> 373 M.J. Rose 1451621507 Shannon 3
Jac L’Etoile has returned to the States from France, leaving behind the love of her life, Griffin North, and facing an uncertain future in terms of lost motivation and a lack of direction. In Connecticut, her old therapist and mentor, Malachai, shows her the secret and ancient rock formations on his family's estate that appear to be Celtic; the revelation helps jolt Jac out of her fugue, but more so does the letter she discovers Malachai has been hiding from her, a letter from her friend Theo Gaspard whom she knew at the Blixer Rath clinic in Switzerland. Jac was at Blixer when she was fourteen, sent by her grandmother to see if Malachai and the other therapists could hep her with her hallucinations. Theo was two years older, and while they never fit in with the other teenagers at the clinic, they became close friends. But Malachai sees Theo as a danger to Jac, and warns her against him.

Theo lives on the Isle of Jersey in the English Channel, an island full of caves and ancient Celtic sites. In his letter, he asks Jac to join him in searching for evidence of the Druids, and Jac is all too eager to oblige. There are mysteries within mysteries in Jac's life: she and Theo have an unusual connection which neither of them really understand, and Theo has an ulterior motive in calling Jac - whom he hasn't seen since he abruptly left Blixer Rath well over a decade ago - to Jersey.

At Wells in Wood, the very old, rambling stone building the Gaspards have lived in for generations, Theo discovered a letter from the celebrated French author, poet and statesman Victor Hugo to his ancestor, Fantine Gaspard, in which Hugo mentions a journal hidden in a cave only the two of them know of, that will tell a story no one has heard before. A story about the Shadow of the Sepulcher... also known as Lucifer.

Since the loss of his wife, Theo has perhaps an unhealthy obsession with finding Hugo's journal and learning more, and amongst all these Celtic ruins and ancient ritual sites, Jac is easily drawn into the mystery. The layers of mystery only deepen, and the truth becomes more complicated, as the past threatens to overtake the present and obliterate the lives of Fantine's descendants.

I wasn't at all aware, when I agreed to review this, that Seduction was part of a series. Having read it, I can tell you that it doesn't make all that much difference. The previous book, The Book of Lost Fragrances, is also about Jac and this book does mention some details from her summer in Paris, the setting of the other book, but it made no real difference that I hadn't read it or any of the other books in the series, all of which feature different characters (as far as I can make out).

Reincarnation is a theme, and an integral part of the plot, but there are so many layers to this novel that it's hard to say what is the main theme. Victor Hugo plays a role, and a convincing one at that, as he recounts, in 1855, certain episodes from his time living in exile in Jersey, where he held over a hundred séances - at first to ease his grief after his eldest, Didine, drowns, but it becomes a kind of unhealthy obsession that worries at him, especially after they make contact with Lucifer - the Shadow of the Sepulcher - who offers him a deal: restore his reputation in poetry and he will bring Didine back to Victor. But as Hugo learns, the Shadow's methods are abhorrent: he lures young girls away from their beds at night and brings them to the brink of death, at which point Hugo finds them and the Shadow tries to get him to let the girls die so Didine's soul can take their place.

In the present, Jac's story of her time at Blixer Rath, her unusual friendship with Theo and what it means that she hallucinates things from Theo's life - and his previous lives, not that she believes in reincarnation - weaves in and out of the narrative, gradually adding blocks of knowledge to the foundation of mystery that this novel rests on. There is another side to the story too: a Celtic family in 56 BCE facing a horrific situation, the three players in the drama playing out their tragic roles down through the ages until, finally, it reaches the Gaspards and Jac, with her unique ability to see Theo's past life, learns the truth behind the strife between Theo and his younger brother, Ash, and Theo's wife, Naomi.

There are so many layers to this gothic-horror, mystery-suspense novel, it's a wonder that it works at all. If I untangle them slightly, there are two plot-lines: Victor Hugo's encounters with the Devil and the bargain he offers, and the search for the lost journal; and Jac's ongoing problems with hallucinations, her resistance to Malachai's belief in reincarnation, her visions from 56 BCE and Theo's past life. Somehow Rose weaves these together to make one solid story, but I'm not entirely convinced they fit together all that well.

I was engaged by Victor Hugo's story, which was full of spooky atmosphere and chilling details, and brings that wonderful sense of Victorian Gothic Horror to the story - which is nicely linked to the present through the rather oppressive and monstrous Gaspard mansion which is perched on the edge of the cliff, and even the Victorian house hidden away in the woods that Ash lives in. Jersey itself is a vivid setting, full of dark woods you can get lost in, precipitous cliffs, mist and even wolves. All the more apt for the spookiness of Jac's visions and the slightly menacing atmosphere between Theo and Ash, the Gaspard brothers. There's also their great-aunts, Minerva and Eva, who have their own secrets. This is certainly a book about airing the past and healing old wounds.

As interesting as the story was - and the multiple layers or dimensions to it did appeal to me - I struggled a bit, reading this. Rose's prose is perfectly competent but her style, her "voice", isn't one that really worked for me. It's hard to say why, it's just one of those things. We all have our own unique brain patterns, the rhythms of our mind and our own voice, even if we're not writers, and sometimes we find authors whose own voice, or style - their "way with words", how they construct sentences - aligns well with our own, or balances it or engages or stimulates or what have you. And other times an author's voice jars, or annoys, or bores us. Rose's voice just didn't quite engage mine, so that I too-often found my mind wandering. It's not an easy thing to explain, especially when I can't say that there's any particular reason why I didn't "click" better with this novel. It has so many elements that should have completely engaged me, but that didn't. Perhaps part of the problem was that there was so much going on here, and for a while I simply didn't know what story I was reading or where it was headed. It's not going to be that way for everyone, obviously, so I don't want it to detract from anyone's interest in reading this. But, this being my personal review, it's important to note it.

Seduction has many strengths, not least of which is the depth of Rose's research - into Victor Hugo, the Celts, the art of creating perfume and any number of other things. It's rather exhausting to think of it. Rose has created a deeply atmospheric, multi-layered novel of mystery, suspense and gothic horror, weaving the lives of centuries into one complex tale. There is a scene at the end that I found to be horrific and tragic and that still makes me want to cry just thinking about it, but that just made the revelations all that much stronger, and caring about a novel's characters makes the reading experience linger for a long time. I may have struggled to connect with the characters and the story in some ways, but it isn't a story I'll forget in a hurry; as for the characters, so will it echo and resonate over the years with me.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via France Book Tours.
]]> 3.79 2013 Seduction (Reincarnationist, #5)
author: M.J. Rose
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.79
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/06/17
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, historical-fiction, france-book-tours, 2013, mystery-suspense, gothic-horror, fiction
review:


Jac L’Etoile has returned to the States from France, leaving behind the love of her life, Griffin North, and facing an uncertain future in terms of lost motivation and a lack of direction. In Connecticut, her old therapist and mentor, Malachai, shows her the secret and ancient rock formations on his family's estate that appear to be Celtic; the revelation helps jolt Jac out of her fugue, but more so does the letter she discovers Malachai has been hiding from her, a letter from her friend Theo Gaspard whom she knew at the Blixer Rath clinic in Switzerland. Jac was at Blixer when she was fourteen, sent by her grandmother to see if Malachai and the other therapists could hep her with her hallucinations. Theo was two years older, and while they never fit in with the other teenagers at the clinic, they became close friends. But Malachai sees Theo as a danger to Jac, and warns her against him.

Theo lives on the Isle of Jersey in the English Channel, an island full of caves and ancient Celtic sites. In his letter, he asks Jac to join him in searching for evidence of the Druids, and Jac is all too eager to oblige. There are mysteries within mysteries in Jac's life: she and Theo have an unusual connection which neither of them really understand, and Theo has an ulterior motive in calling Jac - whom he hasn't seen since he abruptly left Blixer Rath well over a decade ago - to Jersey.

At Wells in Wood, the very old, rambling stone building the Gaspards have lived in for generations, Theo discovered a letter from the celebrated French author, poet and statesman Victor Hugo to his ancestor, Fantine Gaspard, in which Hugo mentions a journal hidden in a cave only the two of them know of, that will tell a story no one has heard before. A story about the Shadow of the Sepulcher... also known as Lucifer.

Since the loss of his wife, Theo has perhaps an unhealthy obsession with finding Hugo's journal and learning more, and amongst all these Celtic ruins and ancient ritual sites, Jac is easily drawn into the mystery. The layers of mystery only deepen, and the truth becomes more complicated, as the past threatens to overtake the present and obliterate the lives of Fantine's descendants.

I wasn't at all aware, when I agreed to review this, that Seduction was part of a series. Having read it, I can tell you that it doesn't make all that much difference. The previous book, The Book of Lost Fragrances, is also about Jac and this book does mention some details from her summer in Paris, the setting of the other book, but it made no real difference that I hadn't read it or any of the other books in the series, all of which feature different characters (as far as I can make out).

Reincarnation is a theme, and an integral part of the plot, but there are so many layers to this novel that it's hard to say what is the main theme. Victor Hugo plays a role, and a convincing one at that, as he recounts, in 1855, certain episodes from his time living in exile in Jersey, where he held over a hundred séances - at first to ease his grief after his eldest, Didine, drowns, but it becomes a kind of unhealthy obsession that worries at him, especially after they make contact with Lucifer - the Shadow of the Sepulcher - who offers him a deal: restore his reputation in poetry and he will bring Didine back to Victor. But as Hugo learns, the Shadow's methods are abhorrent: he lures young girls away from their beds at night and brings them to the brink of death, at which point Hugo finds them and the Shadow tries to get him to let the girls die so Didine's soul can take their place.

In the present, Jac's story of her time at Blixer Rath, her unusual friendship with Theo and what it means that she hallucinates things from Theo's life - and his previous lives, not that she believes in reincarnation - weaves in and out of the narrative, gradually adding blocks of knowledge to the foundation of mystery that this novel rests on. There is another side to the story too: a Celtic family in 56 BCE facing a horrific situation, the three players in the drama playing out their tragic roles down through the ages until, finally, it reaches the Gaspards and Jac, with her unique ability to see Theo's past life, learns the truth behind the strife between Theo and his younger brother, Ash, and Theo's wife, Naomi.

There are so many layers to this gothic-horror, mystery-suspense novel, it's a wonder that it works at all. If I untangle them slightly, there are two plot-lines: Victor Hugo's encounters with the Devil and the bargain he offers, and the search for the lost journal; and Jac's ongoing problems with hallucinations, her resistance to Malachai's belief in reincarnation, her visions from 56 BCE and Theo's past life. Somehow Rose weaves these together to make one solid story, but I'm not entirely convinced they fit together all that well.

I was engaged by Victor Hugo's story, which was full of spooky atmosphere and chilling details, and brings that wonderful sense of Victorian Gothic Horror to the story - which is nicely linked to the present through the rather oppressive and monstrous Gaspard mansion which is perched on the edge of the cliff, and even the Victorian house hidden away in the woods that Ash lives in. Jersey itself is a vivid setting, full of dark woods you can get lost in, precipitous cliffs, mist and even wolves. All the more apt for the spookiness of Jac's visions and the slightly menacing atmosphere between Theo and Ash, the Gaspard brothers. There's also their great-aunts, Minerva and Eva, who have their own secrets. This is certainly a book about airing the past and healing old wounds.

As interesting as the story was - and the multiple layers or dimensions to it did appeal to me - I struggled a bit, reading this. Rose's prose is perfectly competent but her style, her "voice", isn't one that really worked for me. It's hard to say why, it's just one of those things. We all have our own unique brain patterns, the rhythms of our mind and our own voice, even if we're not writers, and sometimes we find authors whose own voice, or style - their "way with words", how they construct sentences - aligns well with our own, or balances it or engages or stimulates or what have you. And other times an author's voice jars, or annoys, or bores us. Rose's voice just didn't quite engage mine, so that I too-often found my mind wandering. It's not an easy thing to explain, especially when I can't say that there's any particular reason why I didn't "click" better with this novel. It has so many elements that should have completely engaged me, but that didn't. Perhaps part of the problem was that there was so much going on here, and for a while I simply didn't know what story I was reading or where it was headed. It's not going to be that way for everyone, obviously, so I don't want it to detract from anyone's interest in reading this. But, this being my personal review, it's important to note it.

Seduction has many strengths, not least of which is the depth of Rose's research - into Victor Hugo, the Celts, the art of creating perfume and any number of other things. It's rather exhausting to think of it. Rose has created a deeply atmospheric, multi-layered novel of mystery, suspense and gothic horror, weaving the lives of centuries into one complex tale. There is a scene at the end that I found to be horrific and tragic and that still makes me want to cry just thinking about it, but that just made the revelations all that much stronger, and caring about a novel's characters makes the reading experience linger for a long time. I may have struggled to connect with the characters and the story in some ways, but it isn't a story I'll forget in a hurry; as for the characters, so will it echo and resonate over the years with me.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via France Book Tours.

]]> March 17973433 But when her sister Poppy needs a wedding dress, old passions are reignited … along with threats from her past.
As Apple finds herself falling for someone she shouldn’t, her quest to re-emerge becomes entangled in a time she wants forgotten, and life unravels as quickly as it began to mend.
From the cool heart of Melbourne, to Paris and New York, in an effervescent world of croquet, Campari and cocoon coats, can Apple prevail over demons past to come of age and inhabit the woman she was born to be? [Originally published in May 2013 as "March". Acquired by HarperCollins Australia, edited and republished as The Rules of Backyard Croquet in March 2018.]]]> 300 Sunni Overend 0987566709 Shannon 4
Apple was once the top student at the famous Emmaline Gray Academy, where she won over Emmaline Gray herself with her distinctive fashion designs. But these days, Apple is twenty-nine and working as manager at VoVoChe, a boutique clothing shop where she can hide from anyone in the fashion world who still remembers what happened all those years ago, but where she can still work with clothes. Her boss, Veronica, is in her sixties and still prowling for a man, and her co-worker at the shop, Jackson, is a mouthy, in-your-face but elegant lesbian with a gorgeous girlfriend, Arabella. Apple rents a disused fire station-turned-apartment with her friend Chloe and Chloe's sausage dog, Frankfurt, and casually sleeps with a handsome Swiss, Henri, who lives off his father's money. She has an old car that routinely breaks down, which is when she gives a call to her croquet-playing friend Charlie, heir to a jewellery company based in Melbourne, who comes to whack the engine with a croquet mallet.

Through Charlie, Apple gets invitations to illustrious events where she rubs shoulders with Melbourne's richest and snootiest people - and her most arrogant and crazy too, it sometimes seems. She meets Noah, a friend of Charlie's, and is turned on by his blokey, dominating ways. She also meets Charlie's long-standing girlfriend, Heidi, who comes from another wealthy, well-established Melbourne family, and discovers what everyone already knows: Heidi's a real cow. It's hard for Apple to see her down-to-earth, friendly, kind friend Charlie with a woman like that, but it's not for her to interfere, and she's got her own life to sort out.

Her older sister Meena is getting married and wants Apple to design and make her wedding dress. Her mother, Ginny, has heard from their father, an abusive man who left them when the girls were very little and from whom they've never heard from since. Now he calls Ginny to tell her he's dying and that he wants to reconnect with his children, but none of the women want anything to do with him. When he dies, leaving a lot of money to his younger trophy wife in Sydney, the sisters are torn by the option to contest his will and lay claim to some of the money.

It's when Apple puts aside her misgivings over the past and goes to Sydney to compete for an exclusive internship with a high-end couture fashion house, that the past confronts her with a loud slap, bringing her rapidly back down to earth. Then, the chance to design shoes for VoVoChe seems like a dream come true and the start of something new, but Veronica has other ideas. It is only Charlie who continues to subtly support her and her dreams of designing clothes, but the truth of why she had to leave the Emmaline Gray Academy continues to haunt Apple, and hold her back. If she were to take charge of her future and follow her dream, what would she be risking? For Apple, it might be time to stop hiding and take charge.

First of all I have to apologise for the messy and poorly-written summary above; I'm finding it hard to concentrate today and it shows. But I really needed to get this review out before too much time goes by, as I finished the book over a week ago. I really, really enjoyed this book: it not only satisfied my deep scars of homesickness, it was a real joy to read too.

I've recently learned this about myself, that after years of not reading Australian fiction until signing up for the Australian Women Writers Challenge this year - which made me pick up and read some of the books I already have, and seek out new titles - and reading a lot of American writers, as well as Canadian and British (and others, in the minority), I've learned that while our cultures may be similar, and we may all speak English, we are actually quite different, culturally speaking, and I definitely connect to Australian fiction more than American fiction. The stories and the characters are more familiar, they make sense to me, from their actions to the way they speak: it clicks. I don't necessary like everything I read that's Australian - that would be unlikely - but I "get" it. There's always been something that creates a bit of a barrier between me and American fiction - not so much Canadian or British, because I grew up on a diet of British TV and books so it's more familiar to me, and I've lived in Canada for nearly 8 years. I feel like I get American fiction, to a degree, but that's about it. The characters don't resonate with me in quite the same way Australian characters do: they're just that little bit too foreign. I don't have the same cultural or social context. So some of the Australian books I've read this year have really worked for me, making me realise just what has been missing from the American books I've been reading.

I wanted to speak to that because that's where I'm coming from when I talk about March. This felt like a distinctly Melbourne book. I lived there once, for nearly a year, and it's a very fashion-conscious, hipster-esque place. It's got old and grand, it's got new and flashy, it's got grungy and edgy. It's a very "happening" city, no doubt about it. The kind of people Apple spends time with here are upper-class Melbournites, an old-school, old-money lot for the most part, while Apple herself comes from a more down-to-earth middle class background. I've never known people like that, personally, but it rang true to me all the same: it felt familiar.

Everything about March felt natural and realistic; it has that realistic edge to it that reminded me strongly of some great TV shows like Love is a Four-Letter Word (from when I was a uni student - god, that dates me!) and Love My Way, also old now (7+ years! hard to believe it's been so long since I last lived there!). I don't know how to describe it, but like with books, we do television (and films) differently too. It's in the way characters interact, the way drama plays out - I never would have actively noticed it before living in Canada, but now the contrast is stark, vivid, and acts like a siren call to me.

Take Jackson. The way she speaks is true to her character, and never felt contrived to me, and the way people react to her rings true too. Basically, they're not offended, they just take her in stride. Here's a scene from the first chapter to give you an idea:

"Girlies," Veronica leant back in her chair. "I have a product launch thingy tonight. I'm desperate and dateless. Join me?"
"Gah!" Jackson said. "I was just telling Apple how annoying you are, you've got to stop hanging out with us. The natty old investment banker you're hoping to snag won't take a second glance at you if we're there, take your own sorry arse out, you'll thank me."
Apple laughed out loud. "Jackson, you're vile!"
"Yes. You're starting to sound like the lanky, bitchy, faux lesbian that you are." Veronica smiled and pulled out a cigarette. "It's not my fault I fell in love with my business and not with a man. Speaking of love, how is the girl-on-girl action working out for you?"
"Hottest sex ever. Arabella's a babe."
"Oh," Veronica screwed up her face. "Please."
"Well," Jackson said, "if you're as desperate and dateless as you say, follow my lead. Men have never been so available. Get yourself a lady friend and a man friend will soon follow." [p.10]


(Ha, having typed that out, I can see comparisons to Sex and the City coming in, but if conversations like this have a similar vibe, the comparison doesn't stretch much farther.)

The story manages that fine balance between realism and exaggeration, between the familiar and believable and that slight tinge of the ridiculous. The ridiculous is, of course, in the snobby elitists that Apple meets, characters like Heidi Huntingdon, and even in Charlie and his friends, some of whom are those classic obnoxious, chauvinistic Aussie males who are the new bloke. I loved Charlie, he was harmless in that sense, and quite a gentleman and very sweet, but making him a character who not only plays but wins at croquet, well that just made him seem more like someone who lives on another planet.

Oh I'm not doing very well at articulating what I enjoyed about this book am I. I kinda just want to quote it a lot, because there are so many good scenes and snappy dialogue that just rolls so naturally, everything comes together so smoothly - not that Apple's story isn't without hiccups, it has plenty of those, but that nothing feels contrived or forced or out of character. The pacing is just as smooth and fairly fast; this is a book you can read quite quickly because it moves along so well. It wasn't entirely predictable, perhaps because of that realistic feel to it, but it does have a fairly conventional ending that ties it up neatly.

If anything, I would have loved to have seen a more rounded Apple: I got to know her and yet I never felt as close to her as I wanted to. I loved the scene where her mother gets out the scrapbook she made as a girl, full of photocopies of a Cabbage Patch doll on every page, over which Apple had designed different costumes. It was a lovely glimpse into Apple and her lifelong love of fashion design, but I wasn't sure what else there was to her character. I never felt completely familiar with the way her mind worked, the choices she made - or which way she was going to turn. It certainly kept me from getting bored, but it also made it hard for me to feel friendly with Apple. Or maybe it was because she held onto her secret for so long, and without knowing that it was hard to understand her other choices, which were influenced by the past. Still, it worked with the story, to have that revealed only at the end. In the same way, I would have liked to know Charlie a bit more thoroughly, though what I did know of him I liked a lot. March has some great moments reminiscent of rom-com movies, British style, that gave the story a bit of juice.

Finally, I love the cover and the book design. Overend, who has studied design herself, has created a book that's beautiful to hold and look at and read. It makes what happened to my lovely copy all the more cringe-worthy: I dropped it. Outside. After it had been raining. In the mud. The pages now have some distinct stains on the edges and it looks like, well, it looks like it was dropped in the mud. But the cover cleaned up well! There are some typos, especially around dialogue punctuation (as you can see from the quote above), but other than that the writing is very good and matches the tone and style of the story to a T.

If you're looking for a fresh new voice in the chick-lit department, I highly recommend Sunni Overend's debut, March. It wasn't just fun to read, it also took me back to Melbourne in a way that not only satisfied my cravings for home, but transported me to someone else's life in a truly escapist sense as well. I loved the natural way the characters talked to each other, and I greatly enjoyed Apple's story as she grows into herself, faces her own fears and the humiliations of the past, and takes charge of her own life. Almost a perfect story.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.]]> 4.09 2013 March
author: Sunni Overend
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.09
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/06/07
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: chick-lit, review-copy, 2013, fiction, romance, aww2013
review:
From the snappy, edgy dialogue to the snootiest streets of Melbourne, Sunni Overend takes readers into the heart of Australia's fashion scene as we follow Apple March's struggles to overcome the past and follow her dreams in this hugely entertaining and fast-paced first novel.

Apple was once the top student at the famous Emmaline Gray Academy, where she won over Emmaline Gray herself with her distinctive fashion designs. But these days, Apple is twenty-nine and working as manager at VoVoChe, a boutique clothing shop where she can hide from anyone in the fashion world who still remembers what happened all those years ago, but where she can still work with clothes. Her boss, Veronica, is in her sixties and still prowling for a man, and her co-worker at the shop, Jackson, is a mouthy, in-your-face but elegant lesbian with a gorgeous girlfriend, Arabella. Apple rents a disused fire station-turned-apartment with her friend Chloe and Chloe's sausage dog, Frankfurt, and casually sleeps with a handsome Swiss, Henri, who lives off his father's money. She has an old car that routinely breaks down, which is when she gives a call to her croquet-playing friend Charlie, heir to a jewellery company based in Melbourne, who comes to whack the engine with a croquet mallet.

Through Charlie, Apple gets invitations to illustrious events where she rubs shoulders with Melbourne's richest and snootiest people - and her most arrogant and crazy too, it sometimes seems. She meets Noah, a friend of Charlie's, and is turned on by his blokey, dominating ways. She also meets Charlie's long-standing girlfriend, Heidi, who comes from another wealthy, well-established Melbourne family, and discovers what everyone already knows: Heidi's a real cow. It's hard for Apple to see her down-to-earth, friendly, kind friend Charlie with a woman like that, but it's not for her to interfere, and she's got her own life to sort out.

Her older sister Meena is getting married and wants Apple to design and make her wedding dress. Her mother, Ginny, has heard from their father, an abusive man who left them when the girls were very little and from whom they've never heard from since. Now he calls Ginny to tell her he's dying and that he wants to reconnect with his children, but none of the women want anything to do with him. When he dies, leaving a lot of money to his younger trophy wife in Sydney, the sisters are torn by the option to contest his will and lay claim to some of the money.

It's when Apple puts aside her misgivings over the past and goes to Sydney to compete for an exclusive internship with a high-end couture fashion house, that the past confronts her with a loud slap, bringing her rapidly back down to earth. Then, the chance to design shoes for VoVoChe seems like a dream come true and the start of something new, but Veronica has other ideas. It is only Charlie who continues to subtly support her and her dreams of designing clothes, but the truth of why she had to leave the Emmaline Gray Academy continues to haunt Apple, and hold her back. If she were to take charge of her future and follow her dream, what would she be risking? For Apple, it might be time to stop hiding and take charge.

First of all I have to apologise for the messy and poorly-written summary above; I'm finding it hard to concentrate today and it shows. But I really needed to get this review out before too much time goes by, as I finished the book over a week ago. I really, really enjoyed this book: it not only satisfied my deep scars of homesickness, it was a real joy to read too.

I've recently learned this about myself, that after years of not reading Australian fiction until signing up for the Australian Women Writers Challenge this year - which made me pick up and read some of the books I already have, and seek out new titles - and reading a lot of American writers, as well as Canadian and British (and others, in the minority), I've learned that while our cultures may be similar, and we may all speak English, we are actually quite different, culturally speaking, and I definitely connect to Australian fiction more than American fiction. The stories and the characters are more familiar, they make sense to me, from their actions to the way they speak: it clicks. I don't necessary like everything I read that's Australian - that would be unlikely - but I "get" it. There's always been something that creates a bit of a barrier between me and American fiction - not so much Canadian or British, because I grew up on a diet of British TV and books so it's more familiar to me, and I've lived in Canada for nearly 8 years. I feel like I get American fiction, to a degree, but that's about it. The characters don't resonate with me in quite the same way Australian characters do: they're just that little bit too foreign. I don't have the same cultural or social context. So some of the Australian books I've read this year have really worked for me, making me realise just what has been missing from the American books I've been reading.

I wanted to speak to that because that's where I'm coming from when I talk about March. This felt like a distinctly Melbourne book. I lived there once, for nearly a year, and it's a very fashion-conscious, hipster-esque place. It's got old and grand, it's got new and flashy, it's got grungy and edgy. It's a very "happening" city, no doubt about it. The kind of people Apple spends time with here are upper-class Melbournites, an old-school, old-money lot for the most part, while Apple herself comes from a more down-to-earth middle class background. I've never known people like that, personally, but it rang true to me all the same: it felt familiar.

Everything about March felt natural and realistic; it has that realistic edge to it that reminded me strongly of some great TV shows like Love is a Four-Letter Word (from when I was a uni student - god, that dates me!) and Love My Way, also old now (7+ years! hard to believe it's been so long since I last lived there!). I don't know how to describe it, but like with books, we do television (and films) differently too. It's in the way characters interact, the way drama plays out - I never would have actively noticed it before living in Canada, but now the contrast is stark, vivid, and acts like a siren call to me.

Take Jackson. The way she speaks is true to her character, and never felt contrived to me, and the way people react to her rings true too. Basically, they're not offended, they just take her in stride. Here's a scene from the first chapter to give you an idea:

"Girlies," Veronica leant back in her chair. "I have a product launch thingy tonight. I'm desperate and dateless. Join me?"
"Gah!" Jackson said. "I was just telling Apple how annoying you are, you've got to stop hanging out with us. The natty old investment banker you're hoping to snag won't take a second glance at you if we're there, take your own sorry arse out, you'll thank me."
Apple laughed out loud. "Jackson, you're vile!"
"Yes. You're starting to sound like the lanky, bitchy, faux lesbian that you are." Veronica smiled and pulled out a cigarette. "It's not my fault I fell in love with my business and not with a man. Speaking of love, how is the girl-on-girl action working out for you?"
"Hottest sex ever. Arabella's a babe."
"Oh," Veronica screwed up her face. "Please."
"Well," Jackson said, "if you're as desperate and dateless as you say, follow my lead. Men have never been so available. Get yourself a lady friend and a man friend will soon follow." [p.10]


(Ha, having typed that out, I can see comparisons to Sex and the City coming in, but if conversations like this have a similar vibe, the comparison doesn't stretch much farther.)

The story manages that fine balance between realism and exaggeration, between the familiar and believable and that slight tinge of the ridiculous. The ridiculous is, of course, in the snobby elitists that Apple meets, characters like Heidi Huntingdon, and even in Charlie and his friends, some of whom are those classic obnoxious, chauvinistic Aussie males who are the new bloke. I loved Charlie, he was harmless in that sense, and quite a gentleman and very sweet, but making him a character who not only plays but wins at croquet, well that just made him seem more like someone who lives on another planet.

Oh I'm not doing very well at articulating what I enjoyed about this book am I. I kinda just want to quote it a lot, because there are so many good scenes and snappy dialogue that just rolls so naturally, everything comes together so smoothly - not that Apple's story isn't without hiccups, it has plenty of those, but that nothing feels contrived or forced or out of character. The pacing is just as smooth and fairly fast; this is a book you can read quite quickly because it moves along so well. It wasn't entirely predictable, perhaps because of that realistic feel to it, but it does have a fairly conventional ending that ties it up neatly.

If anything, I would have loved to have seen a more rounded Apple: I got to know her and yet I never felt as close to her as I wanted to. I loved the scene where her mother gets out the scrapbook she made as a girl, full of photocopies of a Cabbage Patch doll on every page, over which Apple had designed different costumes. It was a lovely glimpse into Apple and her lifelong love of fashion design, but I wasn't sure what else there was to her character. I never felt completely familiar with the way her mind worked, the choices she made - or which way she was going to turn. It certainly kept me from getting bored, but it also made it hard for me to feel friendly with Apple. Or maybe it was because she held onto her secret for so long, and without knowing that it was hard to understand her other choices, which were influenced by the past. Still, it worked with the story, to have that revealed only at the end. In the same way, I would have liked to know Charlie a bit more thoroughly, though what I did know of him I liked a lot. March has some great moments reminiscent of rom-com movies, British style, that gave the story a bit of juice.

Finally, I love the cover and the book design. Overend, who has studied design herself, has created a book that's beautiful to hold and look at and read. It makes what happened to my lovely copy all the more cringe-worthy: I dropped it. Outside. After it had been raining. In the mud. The pages now have some distinct stains on the edges and it looks like, well, it looks like it was dropped in the mud. But the cover cleaned up well! There are some typos, especially around dialogue punctuation (as you can see from the quote above), but other than that the writing is very good and matches the tone and style of the story to a T.

If you're looking for a fresh new voice in the chick-lit department, I highly recommend Sunni Overend's debut, March. It wasn't just fun to read, it also took me back to Melbourne in a way that not only satisfied my cravings for home, but transported me to someone else's life in a truly escapist sense as well. I loved the natural way the characters talked to each other, and I greatly enjoyed Apple's story as she grows into herself, faces her own fears and the humiliations of the past, and takes charge of her own life. Almost a perfect story.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.
]]> A Really Awesome Mess 16238699 Recovery Road, a sample of Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, and a cut of Juno. A Really Awesome Mess is a laugh-out-loud, gut-wrenching/heart-warming story of two teenagers struggling to find love and themselves.

Two teenagers. Two very bumpy roads taken that lead to Heartland Academy.

Justin was just having fun, but when his dad walked in on him with a girl in a very compromising position, Justin's summer took a quick turn for the worse. His parents' divorce put Justin on rocky mental ground, and after a handful of Tylenol lands him in the hospital, he has really hit rock bottom.

Emmy never felt like part of her family. She was adopted from China. Her parents and sister tower over her and look like they came out of a Ralph Lauren catalog - and Emmy definitely doesn't. After a scandalous photo of Emmy leads to vicious rumors around school, she threatens the boy who started it all on Facebook.

Justin and Emmy arrive at Heartland Academy, a reform school that will force them to deal with their issues, damaged souls with little patience for authority. But along the way they will find a ragtag group of teens who are just as broken, stubborn, and full of sarcasm as themselves. In the end, they might even call each other friends. A funny, sad, and remarkable story, A Really Awesome Mess is a journey of friendship and self-discovery that teen readers will surely sign up for.

Releases simultaneously in electronic book format (ISBN 978-1-60684-364-2)
]]> 288 Trish Cook 160684363X Shannon 3
Also new at Heartland is Justin, who has never really got over his dad leaving when he was little and never having any time for him. Depression led to him taking a bunch of Tylenol and ending up in hospital, followed by a "holiday" with his dad who made no effort to spend time with him or even really talk to him. When he met a girl at a fun park and took her back to the apartment, his dad walks in on them in a compromising position and BAM! before he knows it, in what he considers a complete knee-jerk reaction, he's locked up at Heartland with some vague nonsense about his poor attitude toward women (just because he can't remember her name, sheesh!).

These are two messed-up teens, struggling with daily life, with fitting in and believing that they're loved and wanted, who can't or won't voice their thoughts and feelings and who rewrite the silences to fit the dark thoughts in their heads. But they're not alone. At Heartland, they form unlikely friendships with each other and the other teens in their anger management class: silent Jenny, who hasn't spoken since her father fed her her own pet pig; Mohammed, who claims to be a survivor of the Civil War in Sierra Leone but who is actually a pathological liar; Chip, from Ohio, who's addicted to computer games; and Diana, a doll-like girl with violent tendencies.

Given the group project of going a week without getting into a fight or doing anything against the rules, they begin to slowly bond and support each other, finding strength not just in being accepted for who they are but also in being able to open up and share some of their darkest, innermost thoughts.

A Really Awesome Mess has a lot going for it: funny, wise-arse adolescent characters who talk in a realistic way; a nice balance of humour and gravity, it knows just when to take an issue seriously and when to play for laughs; a wide range of diverse, complex characters who all felt very real; strong narrative (first person) voices from Emmy and Justin, who take turns telling the story from their own unique, individual perspectives; and a story that tackles head-on some very important issues facing teens today (and some that can occur irrespective of period or place). Anorexia, depression, sexual abuse, parental neglect, bullying, identity crises, acceptance issues, attempted suicide as a cry for help, underage sex as a way to fill a void, numb pain, feel something or convince yourself that you are loved - these all ring true and even if you've never directly experienced such things yourself, it's a great window onto how these teens really feel and why they do what they do.

The problem is that it tackles SO MUCH and in such a short novel that there's no space to really explore these things to the kind of depth they deserve. It follows a fairly classic formula, a kind of Breakfast Club scenario: misfits lumped together form unlikely friendship and end the day stronger than when they started. And it works, it's great to see these poor lost kids find the support they really needed amongst people who are just as scarred and troubled as they are. I think this was the author's goal: to show teen readers that they're not alone, that much of what they think and fear is a product of miscommunication or no communication at all, and that if they can learn to open up they can free themselves of at least part of what ails them, even if they struggle with mental health issues all their lives (coping mechanisms is what I'm getting at).

The story's strengths lie in the characters of Justin and Emmy, who are messed-up and confused and having to deal with things that they feel ill-equipped to handle, and so respond in negative ways. Their narrative voices are distinctly adolescent, though I didn't find that they were unique in and of themselves: the chapters are titled with their names, which is good, but just flipping through it now I can't tell who's "speaking" from the way it's written. There is a bit of romance between the two, but it's a gradual thing and shy, it's not the point of the story at all - though I actually felt it was quite unnecessary and would have worked just as well without it at all. (I'd hate to think YA authors felt compelled to add romance to their novels just because there's an assumption that teens only want to read romance or something.)

I was a bit dismayed by Heartland Academy itself and all its rules; I can understand that they're trying to mitigate risk and that some of these kids have an actual desire to self-harm in various ways, but it's been proven that things like caring for animals and gardening (like growing your own veg) are very therapeutic. I couldn't help but think that these kids needed some clean air to breathe (the academy is located in the country surrounded by corn fields but the kids never get to go outside), to experience having a purpose and being needed, and the immense satisfaction you get (as a human) from producing something. Justin does have a cooking class but it would have been more inspiring to see the kids growing the food, preparing it and then serving it to everyone for dinner. The words "well adjusted" come to mind. It was disappointing to me to see just how, well, institutional the place was, and how quite a few of the rules were clearly not benefiting the patients/students.

Both Justin and Emmy are teens in denial, especially Emmy, and watching her face up to what she was doing to herself - and to the humiliation of past acts - was both sad and heartening. (As with losing weight, there are no short cuts to getting better.) Justin's case was less clear-cut than Emmy's, and took a while to piece together, but depression does tend to be an anti-climactic, less "glamorous" illness than something like anorexia or feeling like your adoptive parents consider you an ugly burden. It's hard to even articulate what's wrong, so the authors did a good job of capturing Justin's inner feelings.

This is a pretty well-written, realistic, fast-paced story about a group of teens figuring themselves out and learning how to deal with the shitty hand they've been dealt. I found the ending a bit sudden and while I liked how it didn't feel the need to resolve everything or have everyone all cured - that wouldn't be realistic! - it didn't quite feel finished exactly, either. If I remember correctly it takes place over the course of just a few months, and went a bit fast for me: I would have found it more absorbing if it had taken place over a year or so, giving the characters more time to adjust, sort things out, and so on. The pacing was just a bit too rushed. But making a story about mental illness entertaining without cheapening what the characters were going through is a strength - and humour in such situations is a pretty common coping mechanism, too. Overall, a highly readable story about a very important subject matter, told by two teenagers who will really make you feel for them, no matter how horrible they are to others. It's not the only YA novel to tackle such issues or take place within a mental institute, but it's strong enough to stand on its own amongst them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> 3.41 2013 A Really Awesome Mess
author: Trish Cook
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.41
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/07/08
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: ya, fiction, netgalley, review-copy, e-book, 2013, gritty-realism
review:
When Emmy arrives at Heartland Academy, a school-slash-mental institute for teens struggling with a wide range of mental health issues, she thinks her parents are happy to have finally found a way to get rid of her. In denial about her anorexia, she sees it as a needless punishment for refusing to apologise to the boy she bullied via Facebook - something she won't do because of the reasons why it all started, which she certainly can't tell anyone about. She's always thought it was just a matter of time, anyway, since she's the kid they adopted from China just as they discovered they'd managed to get pregnant the natural way, resulting in her younger, but much taller, beautiful sister Jocelyn.

Also new at Heartland is Justin, who has never really got over his dad leaving when he was little and never having any time for him. Depression led to him taking a bunch of Tylenol and ending up in hospital, followed by a "holiday" with his dad who made no effort to spend time with him or even really talk to him. When he met a girl at a fun park and took her back to the apartment, his dad walks in on them in a compromising position and BAM! before he knows it, in what he considers a complete knee-jerk reaction, he's locked up at Heartland with some vague nonsense about his poor attitude toward women (just because he can't remember her name, sheesh!).

These are two messed-up teens, struggling with daily life, with fitting in and believing that they're loved and wanted, who can't or won't voice their thoughts and feelings and who rewrite the silences to fit the dark thoughts in their heads. But they're not alone. At Heartland, they form unlikely friendships with each other and the other teens in their anger management class: silent Jenny, who hasn't spoken since her father fed her her own pet pig; Mohammed, who claims to be a survivor of the Civil War in Sierra Leone but who is actually a pathological liar; Chip, from Ohio, who's addicted to computer games; and Diana, a doll-like girl with violent tendencies.

Given the group project of going a week without getting into a fight or doing anything against the rules, they begin to slowly bond and support each other, finding strength not just in being accepted for who they are but also in being able to open up and share some of their darkest, innermost thoughts.

A Really Awesome Mess has a lot going for it: funny, wise-arse adolescent characters who talk in a realistic way; a nice balance of humour and gravity, it knows just when to take an issue seriously and when to play for laughs; a wide range of diverse, complex characters who all felt very real; strong narrative (first person) voices from Emmy and Justin, who take turns telling the story from their own unique, individual perspectives; and a story that tackles head-on some very important issues facing teens today (and some that can occur irrespective of period or place). Anorexia, depression, sexual abuse, parental neglect, bullying, identity crises, acceptance issues, attempted suicide as a cry for help, underage sex as a way to fill a void, numb pain, feel something or convince yourself that you are loved - these all ring true and even if you've never directly experienced such things yourself, it's a great window onto how these teens really feel and why they do what they do.

The problem is that it tackles SO MUCH and in such a short novel that there's no space to really explore these things to the kind of depth they deserve. It follows a fairly classic formula, a kind of Breakfast Club scenario: misfits lumped together form unlikely friendship and end the day stronger than when they started. And it works, it's great to see these poor lost kids find the support they really needed amongst people who are just as scarred and troubled as they are. I think this was the author's goal: to show teen readers that they're not alone, that much of what they think and fear is a product of miscommunication or no communication at all, and that if they can learn to open up they can free themselves of at least part of what ails them, even if they struggle with mental health issues all their lives (coping mechanisms is what I'm getting at).

The story's strengths lie in the characters of Justin and Emmy, who are messed-up and confused and having to deal with things that they feel ill-equipped to handle, and so respond in negative ways. Their narrative voices are distinctly adolescent, though I didn't find that they were unique in and of themselves: the chapters are titled with their names, which is good, but just flipping through it now I can't tell who's "speaking" from the way it's written. There is a bit of romance between the two, but it's a gradual thing and shy, it's not the point of the story at all - though I actually felt it was quite unnecessary and would have worked just as well without it at all. (I'd hate to think YA authors felt compelled to add romance to their novels just because there's an assumption that teens only want to read romance or something.)

I was a bit dismayed by Heartland Academy itself and all its rules; I can understand that they're trying to mitigate risk and that some of these kids have an actual desire to self-harm in various ways, but it's been proven that things like caring for animals and gardening (like growing your own veg) are very therapeutic. I couldn't help but think that these kids needed some clean air to breathe (the academy is located in the country surrounded by corn fields but the kids never get to go outside), to experience having a purpose and being needed, and the immense satisfaction you get (as a human) from producing something. Justin does have a cooking class but it would have been more inspiring to see the kids growing the food, preparing it and then serving it to everyone for dinner. The words "well adjusted" come to mind. It was disappointing to me to see just how, well, institutional the place was, and how quite a few of the rules were clearly not benefiting the patients/students.

Both Justin and Emmy are teens in denial, especially Emmy, and watching her face up to what she was doing to herself - and to the humiliation of past acts - was both sad and heartening. (As with losing weight, there are no short cuts to getting better.) Justin's case was less clear-cut than Emmy's, and took a while to piece together, but depression does tend to be an anti-climactic, less "glamorous" illness than something like anorexia or feeling like your adoptive parents consider you an ugly burden. It's hard to even articulate what's wrong, so the authors did a good job of capturing Justin's inner feelings.

This is a pretty well-written, realistic, fast-paced story about a group of teens figuring themselves out and learning how to deal with the shitty hand they've been dealt. I found the ending a bit sudden and while I liked how it didn't feel the need to resolve everything or have everyone all cured - that wouldn't be realistic! - it didn't quite feel finished exactly, either. If I remember correctly it takes place over the course of just a few months, and went a bit fast for me: I would have found it more absorbing if it had taken place over a year or so, giving the characters more time to adjust, sort things out, and so on. The pacing was just a bit too rushed. But making a story about mental illness entertaining without cheapening what the characters were going through is a strength - and humour in such situations is a pretty common coping mechanism, too. Overall, a highly readable story about a very important subject matter, told by two teenagers who will really make you feel for them, no matter how horrible they are to others. It's not the only YA novel to tackle such issues or take place within a mental institute, but it's strong enough to stand on its own amongst them.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.

]]> All the Summer Girls 16248173
In an effort to regroup, Kate, Vanessa, and Dani retreat to the New Jersey beach town where they once spent their summers. Emboldened by the seductive cadences of the shore, the women being to realize how much their lives, and friendships, have been shaped by the choices they made one fateful night on the beach eight years earlier--and the secrets that only now threaten to surface.]]> 264 Meg Donohue 0062203819 Shannon 3
Now, eight years later, Kate's engagement to the man she met at law school, Peter, has broken off - on the same day she learns that she's pregnant. Dani has been fired for the twelfth time since she graduated from uni, this time from a bookshop in San Francisco, as she wiles her time drinking and taking drugs instead of writing the novel she's been working on ever since Colin died. In New York, Vanessa is torn between the love she feels for her two-year-old daughter, Lucy, anger towards her handsome husband, Drew, who admitted after Christmas that he kissed a colleague, and her desire to return to work at an art gallery.

When Vanessa and Dani learn of Kate's broken engagement, they decide to turn the bachelorette party in Vegas into a girls' weekend in Avalon, something they haven't done since that fateful holiday when Colin died.

It is also the first time in years the three of them have been together - the last time was Vanessa's wedding three years before. Vanessa and Dani are still hardly talking to each other after some big blow-up in the past that neither will talk about, and they each come to Avalon with their secret and their guilt churning just beneath the surface. They each feel that it's time to 'fess up, but none of them could have suspected what the other knows about the past and that night Colin died. Can their friendship survive the revelations? Can they move on with their lives and finally find peace, and the chance to follow their dreams without the guilt?

All the Summer Girls is a light but fairly serious read, a short novel told in alternating chapters from each woman's perspective. We are given a clear idea of each woman's character, from their own viewpoint and that of their friends. Kate, the lawyer, talks a lot, is neat and tidy, and likes to live by a schedule - something that started to bother Peter. She talks to her food, loves dogs, and thinks laws are a wonderful thing.

Vanessa is the beauty of the threesome. Half black, half white, she's glamorous and fashionable with cheekbones to die for. The other two feel that she plays with men and likes to leave them hanging; even Vanessa freely acknowledges that she and her husband play a kind of game with each other, relishing watching the attention and admiration the other gets, knowing that they won't act on it but will return to each other. That changes when Drew kisses another woman, and Vanessa also struggles with her deep maternal feelings for her daughter and that feeling of having lost herself in motherhood.

Dani is the free-spirited one, the writer and reader who "lives the dream" but in reality makes a terrible mess of it, is no closer to achieving her dream than before, and is wasting her life away on binge-drinking, pot and pills. Her mother left when she was little and never wanted her; she married another man and had two sons with him, whom Dani's never met. She grew up with her father, a surgeon, and plenty of money, but now has too much pride to ask for help when she can no longer pay her rent. She had planned to move back in with her dad, but that option dies when she suddenly meets his much younger fiancee, Susanne.

The three women are very different from each other, but their shared pasts and experiences are strong enough to hold them together. Still, cracks have appeared and their friendship is struggling as they've each moved in very different directions, in different parts of the country. They each feel like they were the one who held the friendship together, as children and teens, and that they continue to do so now. Perhaps this belief, and the sense of being needed that comes with it, is what keeps them together now. They know each other so well, they can't hide from each other.

I liked this story, but I didn't love it. It was quite a simple, straight-forward story, and fairly short. I confess I read it a bit quickly, and didn't really take the time to slow down and appreciate it. But it just wasn't really my kind of story. I like these stories, I do, but this one was a tad too simplistic for me, a bit predictable, and a bit lacking in depth and substance. The characters were laid out rather flat, presented neatly - especially Kate and Dani - and I found that this way of telling me all about them created a kind of distance and a lack of curiosity in me that I couldn't overcome. Vanessa was a bit more ambiguous, and I could relate to her because I too am a first-time mother of a (nearly) two year old, and I know what she means about loving spending the time with her child while also feeling that she's lost a part of herself, and doesn't quite know who she is anymore. That resonated with me; I'm sure it's pretty widespread. She was also a bit more interesting because she had more layers to her, making her seem sometimes quite ordinary and "normal", and other times of a different class altogether. It was her psyche that I would have liked to delve into more.

Donohue didn't belabour the point, she didn't over-emphasise things like Dani's lifestyle and the new opportunities, a kind of "second chance" of turning her life around, that she finds in Avalon. But it wasn't very subtle either, and things were just a bit too pat. I also didn't really care for the way the perspective shifted around. It's really not necessary to title chapters by the character's name, there's something about that device that has long annoyed me. It's not the shifting of perspective that irks me, but the chapter titles. It always feels too contrived, too leading-by-the-hand, too "look there!" too forced. Simply omitting the chapter headings and I feel that a story flows better from one chapter to the next, and it's easier for me to sink into a story. It won't bother all readers, but it's a device I've never been keen on.

I'm also not a fan of present tense: it's hugely over-used these days, like the latest fad in writing fiction and genre fiction, and few writers use it well or even accurately. I didn't take issue with how Donohue used it, only that it wasn't a good fit here or even necessary. It didn't add to the story or its rhythm, and the transitions between past tense, when recounting a previous scene, and the present were like bumps in the road, making me stumble so that I would have to re-read a sentence or two to get the right rhythm again.

Overall, this is a finely observant story that presents three women and their decades-long friendship with a clear eye, and it is a frank story about the mistakes we make, the choices we face, and the future that can scare us. It wasn't a story that made any particular connection to me, emotionally or otherwise, but I liked it well enough.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via
]]> 3.27 2013 All the Summer Girls
author: Meg Donohue
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.27
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/06/02
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: fiction, review-copy, tlc-book-tours, 2013, chick-lit
review:
In the summer before their last year of university, three lifelong friends, Kate, Vanessa and Dani, party it up at Dani's father's beach house in Avalon, New Jersey. But the holiday ends in tragedy when Kate's twin brother Colin is found dead in the bay. Each girl harbours intense guilt alongside their grief, and carry the secrets they each hoard throughout their lives in the years that follow.

Now, eight years later, Kate's engagement to the man she met at law school, Peter, has broken off - on the same day she learns that she's pregnant. Dani has been fired for the twelfth time since she graduated from uni, this time from a bookshop in San Francisco, as she wiles her time drinking and taking drugs instead of writing the novel she's been working on ever since Colin died. In New York, Vanessa is torn between the love she feels for her two-year-old daughter, Lucy, anger towards her handsome husband, Drew, who admitted after Christmas that he kissed a colleague, and her desire to return to work at an art gallery.

When Vanessa and Dani learn of Kate's broken engagement, they decide to turn the bachelorette party in Vegas into a girls' weekend in Avalon, something they haven't done since that fateful holiday when Colin died.

It is also the first time in years the three of them have been together - the last time was Vanessa's wedding three years before. Vanessa and Dani are still hardly talking to each other after some big blow-up in the past that neither will talk about, and they each come to Avalon with their secret and their guilt churning just beneath the surface. They each feel that it's time to 'fess up, but none of them could have suspected what the other knows about the past and that night Colin died. Can their friendship survive the revelations? Can they move on with their lives and finally find peace, and the chance to follow their dreams without the guilt?

All the Summer Girls is a light but fairly serious read, a short novel told in alternating chapters from each woman's perspective. We are given a clear idea of each woman's character, from their own viewpoint and that of their friends. Kate, the lawyer, talks a lot, is neat and tidy, and likes to live by a schedule - something that started to bother Peter. She talks to her food, loves dogs, and thinks laws are a wonderful thing.

Vanessa is the beauty of the threesome. Half black, half white, she's glamorous and fashionable with cheekbones to die for. The other two feel that she plays with men and likes to leave them hanging; even Vanessa freely acknowledges that she and her husband play a kind of game with each other, relishing watching the attention and admiration the other gets, knowing that they won't act on it but will return to each other. That changes when Drew kisses another woman, and Vanessa also struggles with her deep maternal feelings for her daughter and that feeling of having lost herself in motherhood.

Dani is the free-spirited one, the writer and reader who "lives the dream" but in reality makes a terrible mess of it, is no closer to achieving her dream than before, and is wasting her life away on binge-drinking, pot and pills. Her mother left when she was little and never wanted her; she married another man and had two sons with him, whom Dani's never met. She grew up with her father, a surgeon, and plenty of money, but now has too much pride to ask for help when she can no longer pay her rent. She had planned to move back in with her dad, but that option dies when she suddenly meets his much younger fiancee, Susanne.

The three women are very different from each other, but their shared pasts and experiences are strong enough to hold them together. Still, cracks have appeared and their friendship is struggling as they've each moved in very different directions, in different parts of the country. They each feel like they were the one who held the friendship together, as children and teens, and that they continue to do so now. Perhaps this belief, and the sense of being needed that comes with it, is what keeps them together now. They know each other so well, they can't hide from each other.

I liked this story, but I didn't love it. It was quite a simple, straight-forward story, and fairly short. I confess I read it a bit quickly, and didn't really take the time to slow down and appreciate it. But it just wasn't really my kind of story. I like these stories, I do, but this one was a tad too simplistic for me, a bit predictable, and a bit lacking in depth and substance. The characters were laid out rather flat, presented neatly - especially Kate and Dani - and I found that this way of telling me all about them created a kind of distance and a lack of curiosity in me that I couldn't overcome. Vanessa was a bit more ambiguous, and I could relate to her because I too am a first-time mother of a (nearly) two year old, and I know what she means about loving spending the time with her child while also feeling that she's lost a part of herself, and doesn't quite know who she is anymore. That resonated with me; I'm sure it's pretty widespread. She was also a bit more interesting because she had more layers to her, making her seem sometimes quite ordinary and "normal", and other times of a different class altogether. It was her psyche that I would have liked to delve into more.

Donohue didn't belabour the point, she didn't over-emphasise things like Dani's lifestyle and the new opportunities, a kind of "second chance" of turning her life around, that she finds in Avalon. But it wasn't very subtle either, and things were just a bit too pat. I also didn't really care for the way the perspective shifted around. It's really not necessary to title chapters by the character's name, there's something about that device that has long annoyed me. It's not the shifting of perspective that irks me, but the chapter titles. It always feels too contrived, too leading-by-the-hand, too "look there!" too forced. Simply omitting the chapter headings and I feel that a story flows better from one chapter to the next, and it's easier for me to sink into a story. It won't bother all readers, but it's a device I've never been keen on.

I'm also not a fan of present tense: it's hugely over-used these days, like the latest fad in writing fiction and genre fiction, and few writers use it well or even accurately. I didn't take issue with how Donohue used it, only that it wasn't a good fit here or even necessary. It didn't add to the story or its rhythm, and the transitions between past tense, when recounting a previous scene, and the present were like bumps in the road, making me stumble so that I would have to re-read a sentence or two to get the right rhythm again.

Overall, this is a finely observant story that presents three women and their decades-long friendship with a clear eye, and it is a frank story about the mistakes we make, the choices we face, and the future that can scare us. It wasn't a story that made any particular connection to me, emotionally or otherwise, but I liked it well enough.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via

]]> The Hypnotist's Love Story 15985404 For fans of Emily Giffin, another wonderful book from the author of the #1 New York Times bestseller, THE HUSBAND’S SECRET...

Ellen O’Farrell is a professional hypnotherapist who works out of the eccentric beachfront home she inherited from her grandparents. It’s a nice life, except for her tumultuous relationship history. She’s stoic about it, but at this point, Ellen wouldn’t mind a lasting one. When she meets Patrick, she’s optimistic. He’s attractive, single, employed, and best of all, he seems to like her back. Then comes that dreaded moment: He thinks they should have a talk.

Braced for the worst, Ellen is pleasantly surprised. It turns out that Patrick’s ex-girlfriend is stalking him. Ellen thinks, Actually, that’s kind of interesting. She’s dating someone worth stalking. She’s intrigued by the woman’s motives. In fact, she’d even love to meet her.

Ellen doesn’t know it, but she already has.]]> 480 Liane Moriarty Shannon 5
When, during a romantic dinner, Patrick says they should have a talk and then abruptly disappears into the men's bathroom for some time, Ellen fears the worst. So when he finally returns and tells her that he has a stalker, an ex-girlfriend whom he broke up with three years ago, Ellen isn't just surprised, she's actually quite pleased. Patrick suddenly becomes a whole lot more interesting to her. After all, it's not just anyone who has their own stalker.

But more than that, Ellen develops a burning curiosity and interest in Patrick's stalker, Saskia. What kind of woman becomes a stalker? What does it take to fall into that cycle and not be able to escape it? Ellen doesn't feel that Saskia is a personal threat to her, she just wants to understand her. She'd even like to meet her, talk to her. What Ellen doesn't realise is that she already has: Saskia is one of her own clients, and she already knows a lot more about Ellen than Ellen had ever realised.

This was a fantastic book, one of those wonderfully understated novels that's light on plot but heavy on understanding the psychology of its characters. It is not the "breezy summer read [that] will make you feel warm all over" that one of the cover endorsements (from USA Today) proclaims it as; I was rather surprised that anyone would describe this in that way. Yet it's not a dark psychological thriller either. It's more realistic than that, more familiar and more focused on ordinary people and their inner demons and insecurities. It's a character study of two very different yet connected women, as well as a study of life, love, loss, grief, insecurities, neuroses - everything, in short, that makes us human.

Moriarty is an astute social observer who understands people and what makes us tick. I've read a few books over the years whose authors have a knack for digging beneath the skin and teasing out those hidden thoughts and feelings that we have, and laying them bare: I love those kinds of books. Moriarty successfully and skilfully captures the neuroses of her characters, their inner turbulence, their self-doubts, their vanities and insecurities, making Ellen and Saskia vividly real: living, breathing people. Patrick, too, was a tangible, real character, caught between two women and seen only through their eyes - but Moriarty manages to both hide and reveal a great deal about Patrick's character, so that we recognise the obfuscation of the women's own perspectives and glimpse a more honest, less dramatic truth of him in the moments of clarity as when a fog clears.

Saskia narrates her portions of the story in first-person, while Ellen's side of the story is told in the third-person. This works effectively to not only ensure you never get confused or lost in whose story you're currently reading, but it enables us to get right inside Saskia's head as well as showcase Moriarty's enviable talent for creating distinct voices and personalities that clearly delineate the two women. Saskia slowly comes together for us in a visual way but it's not until Ellen sees her and knows her for who she really is (which client of hers she is, coming to therapy sessions under a false name) that we get to really see her. What's interesting about this is how clearly it shows how fragmented we are when it's just the inside of our own heads, as opposed to how solid we become when seen by other people. As if Saskia were just shards of a person, a broken mirror swept into a pile, a collection of troubled thoughts and old hurts with no real form of her own, until Ellen sees her - then she has form, substance, a body, an identity outside of herself.

I came to genuinely love Saskia, precisely because she is so human and so raw and honest with herself. She drifts between knowing what she's doing is wrong, feeling like she's become crazy and completely disengaged from reality, and obsessing over her unhealed hurts. She lost her mother, her only family member, and then just months later she loses Patrick - but not just him, she loses his son, Jack, too. Patrick's wife, Colleen, died only a year after having Jack, and it wasn't all that long after that that Saskia came into their lives. From Saskia's point of view, she and Patrick had been deeply in love and committed to each other. She lived with him and Jack and she was Jack's mother - she made him lunch, read to him, taught him games, and loved him. Saskia never saw the break-up coming, she had had no inkling that there was anything wrong, and she went into shock when it happened. When that passed days later, she found herself completely cut out of Patrick - and Jack's, lives. What really hurts her, as much if not more as losing Patrick, is losing Jack. How could she go from being his mother one day, to being pushed out of his life the next?

I remember waking up in Tammy's room five days [after the breakup] and realising it was Friday morning and that Jack had swimming lessons straight after school, and I always had to remember to pack his things the night before, and who would take him? [...] I had more flexibility than Patrick and I loved picking him up. I was Jack's mother. I didn't mind when I missed out on a promotion because I wasn't working full hours. That's what mothers do; they put their careers on hold for their children.

So I called Patrick, to remind him about swimming lessons, and that's when all this started: my habit. My "stalking" of my old life.

Because Patrick treated me like a stranger. As if Jack's swimming lessons were nothing to do with me, when just the week before, I'd been at swimming, helping Jack adjust his goggles, talking to his teacher about maybe moving him up a class, making arrangements with one of the other mothers for a play date with her son. "It's fine," Patrick had said. All irritable and put out. As if I was interfering. As if I'd never had anything to do with Jack. "We've got it all under control." The rage that swept through me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I hated him. I still loved him. But I hated him. And ever since then it's been hard to tell the difference between the two. If I didn't hate him so intensely, maybe I would have been able to stop loving him. [p.252]


I found myself, like Ellen, yearning to understand Saskia, and the more I learned about her and what led to her stalking behaviour, her obsession, the more I felt sympathy for her. I couldn't condone it, and like many of the supporting cast in this story, my initial thought was "God, why can't she just move on?" But since when have humans ever been so straight forward? Moriarty probes deeply into Saskia's psyche, rendering her human and thus, understandable. What Saskia can't get over is being cut out of Patrick and Jack's lives, just because she was a girlfriend, not a wife. And Patrick never really understood that either, never considered letting her see Jack or spend time with him; never considered that Jack had now lost two mothers. Because he was a grieving widower, a man in mourning who hadn't worked through his own grief, his own loss, and he was a loving father who wanted to look after his son. It all makes perfect sense, and it's all so messy, and it's almost all a product of miscommunication or misunderstandings or no communication at all, as these things often are. You couldn't find more human characters than these.

I remember thinking that it wasn't fair. If Patrick had been killed in a car accident, I would have been allowed to grieve for him for years. People would have sent me flowers and sympathy cards; they would have dropped off casseroles. I would have been allowed to keep his photos up, to talk about him, to remember the good times. But because he dumped me, because he was still alive, my sadness was considered undignified and pathetic. I wasn't being a proper feminist when I talked about how much I loved him. He stopped loving me, so therefore I had to stop loving him. Immediately. Chop, chop. Turn those silly feelings off right now. Your love is no longer reciprocated, so it is now foolish. [p.317]


There are so many psychological layers to this story. The hypnotherapy sessions were fascinating and gave me great insight into what hypnotherapy is and how it works; I loved reading those scenes. And I loved reading about Ellen. She was completely laid bare, but not in that way where you feel like the author is shoving everything at you with no subtlety. It went so well with Ellen's character, her personality, that her thoughts were open to us readers. I could recognise many of her thoughts, having had similar ones myself, or at least could recognise the realism and frankness in them. She was captured so perfectly, and it was fascinating watching her shift from this neat woman into someone who floundered trying to figure out who she really was.

It was true that she wasn't unhappy about Patrick being a widower. She quite liked the fact that it made things more complicated. It made her feel like she was part of the rich tapestry of life (and death). Also, it gave her a chance to demonstrate her professional skills. She imagined people saying to her, "Do you worry about his feelings for his wife?" and she'd say serenely, "No, actually, I don't." She would understand completely if he still had feelings for his wife. She would know instinctively when to draw back, when to let him grieve for her. [p.46]


She wasn't imagining it. Patrick was definitely talking more about Colleen since their engagement. In fact, she'd started keeping a tally in her head, and there had been at least one reference to Colleen every single day for the last week. [...] If Colleen had been an ordinary living ex-wife or ex-girlfriend, Ellen could have banned all further mentions of her, but as she was dead, and as it was perfectly understandable that having another child would be bringing back memories for Patrick of Jack's birth, and as Colleen was Jack's mother and he loved hearing stories about when his mother was pregnant with him, Ellen felt she not only had to listen politely, but she even had to encourage further revelations about the seemingly perfect Colleen by asking Patrick interested questions with a bright, loving, empathetic expression on her face.

Frankly, it was driving her bananas. [pp.242-3]


Watching Ellen unravel and lose her grip on the kind of person she thought she was, or wanted to be, wasn't exactly satisfying but it was rather riveting. She never came across as superior or uptight in the beginning, but she did seem to be a little too in control, in that way some people are that leaves you thinking that any little rock of the boat could be their undoing, emotionally.

While the story is focused on the characters, there are some plot developments, both in terms of Saskia-the-stalker, Ellen and Patrick's relationship, and Ellen's business. It's just enough to give it forward momentum, but it doesn't suffer from that problem some books have, of starting strong with an interesting premise only to snow-dive towards the end when it seems like the author didn't know where to take it and so threw in a big action climax like an abduction or a car accident or something of that nature, as if the lack of plot suddenly became something to renege on. There is a climax here, a culmination of events that coincides with that freakish, giant dust storm Sydney and other parts of the north-east coast experienced several years ago, but it's not melodramatic, and the ending is satisfying and rather beautiful.

I can't recommend this book highly enough, especially if you enjoy character-driven stories that really lay bare the human soul and all our frailties, our neuroses and the twisted ways our minds work sometimes. Ellen and Saskia are two strong protagonists, vastly different from each other and yet with several things in common, representing something older than this story, something intrinsic about women, about female friendships and the bonds women make, about how women deal with things emotionally and mentally, and how unforgiving we can be of each other. It was hard to say goodbye to them, at the end of this book, after sharing such a momentous chapter in their lives and coming to know them so deeply, like real people revealing their secret thoughts. A thoroughly compelling and beautifully told novel.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.55 2011 The Hypnotist's Love Story
author: Liane Moriarty
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.55
book published: 2011
rating: 5
read at: 2013/05/23
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: fiction, review-copy, 2013, favourite, psychological-thriller, australian-women-writers, aww2013
review:
Ellen O'Farrell is a calm, rational woman in her mid-thirties who enjoys her life and loves her job as a hypnotherapist. She works out of her beachfront home in Sydney, an old house last decorated in the 70s which she inherited from her grandparents. The one thing that hasn't worked out so well for her is her love life. With three serious ex-boyfriends littering her past and giving her secret insecurities, she has big hopes for the man she's currently seeing, a contractor called Patrick whom she met through an online dating site.

When, during a romantic dinner, Patrick says they should have a talk and then abruptly disappears into the men's bathroom for some time, Ellen fears the worst. So when he finally returns and tells her that he has a stalker, an ex-girlfriend whom he broke up with three years ago, Ellen isn't just surprised, she's actually quite pleased. Patrick suddenly becomes a whole lot more interesting to her. After all, it's not just anyone who has their own stalker.

But more than that, Ellen develops a burning curiosity and interest in Patrick's stalker, Saskia. What kind of woman becomes a stalker? What does it take to fall into that cycle and not be able to escape it? Ellen doesn't feel that Saskia is a personal threat to her, she just wants to understand her. She'd even like to meet her, talk to her. What Ellen doesn't realise is that she already has: Saskia is one of her own clients, and she already knows a lot more about Ellen than Ellen had ever realised.

This was a fantastic book, one of those wonderfully understated novels that's light on plot but heavy on understanding the psychology of its characters. It is not the "breezy summer read [that] will make you feel warm all over" that one of the cover endorsements (from USA Today) proclaims it as; I was rather surprised that anyone would describe this in that way. Yet it's not a dark psychological thriller either. It's more realistic than that, more familiar and more focused on ordinary people and their inner demons and insecurities. It's a character study of two very different yet connected women, as well as a study of life, love, loss, grief, insecurities, neuroses - everything, in short, that makes us human.

Moriarty is an astute social observer who understands people and what makes us tick. I've read a few books over the years whose authors have a knack for digging beneath the skin and teasing out those hidden thoughts and feelings that we have, and laying them bare: I love those kinds of books. Moriarty successfully and skilfully captures the neuroses of her characters, their inner turbulence, their self-doubts, their vanities and insecurities, making Ellen and Saskia vividly real: living, breathing people. Patrick, too, was a tangible, real character, caught between two women and seen only through their eyes - but Moriarty manages to both hide and reveal a great deal about Patrick's character, so that we recognise the obfuscation of the women's own perspectives and glimpse a more honest, less dramatic truth of him in the moments of clarity as when a fog clears.

Saskia narrates her portions of the story in first-person, while Ellen's side of the story is told in the third-person. This works effectively to not only ensure you never get confused or lost in whose story you're currently reading, but it enables us to get right inside Saskia's head as well as showcase Moriarty's enviable talent for creating distinct voices and personalities that clearly delineate the two women. Saskia slowly comes together for us in a visual way but it's not until Ellen sees her and knows her for who she really is (which client of hers she is, coming to therapy sessions under a false name) that we get to really see her. What's interesting about this is how clearly it shows how fragmented we are when it's just the inside of our own heads, as opposed to how solid we become when seen by other people. As if Saskia were just shards of a person, a broken mirror swept into a pile, a collection of troubled thoughts and old hurts with no real form of her own, until Ellen sees her - then she has form, substance, a body, an identity outside of herself.

I came to genuinely love Saskia, precisely because she is so human and so raw and honest with herself. She drifts between knowing what she's doing is wrong, feeling like she's become crazy and completely disengaged from reality, and obsessing over her unhealed hurts. She lost her mother, her only family member, and then just months later she loses Patrick - but not just him, she loses his son, Jack, too. Patrick's wife, Colleen, died only a year after having Jack, and it wasn't all that long after that that Saskia came into their lives. From Saskia's point of view, she and Patrick had been deeply in love and committed to each other. She lived with him and Jack and she was Jack's mother - she made him lunch, read to him, taught him games, and loved him. Saskia never saw the break-up coming, she had had no inkling that there was anything wrong, and she went into shock when it happened. When that passed days later, she found herself completely cut out of Patrick - and Jack's, lives. What really hurts her, as much if not more as losing Patrick, is losing Jack. How could she go from being his mother one day, to being pushed out of his life the next?

I remember waking up in Tammy's room five days [after the breakup] and realising it was Friday morning and that Jack had swimming lessons straight after school, and I always had to remember to pack his things the night before, and who would take him? [...] I had more flexibility than Patrick and I loved picking him up. I was Jack's mother. I didn't mind when I missed out on a promotion because I wasn't working full hours. That's what mothers do; they put their careers on hold for their children.

So I called Patrick, to remind him about swimming lessons, and that's when all this started: my habit. My "stalking" of my old life.

Because Patrick treated me like a stranger. As if Jack's swimming lessons were nothing to do with me, when just the week before, I'd been at swimming, helping Jack adjust his goggles, talking to his teacher about maybe moving him up a class, making arrangements with one of the other mothers for a play date with her son. "It's fine," Patrick had said. All irritable and put out. As if I was interfering. As if I'd never had anything to do with Jack. "We've got it all under control." The rage that swept through me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I hated him. I still loved him. But I hated him. And ever since then it's been hard to tell the difference between the two. If I didn't hate him so intensely, maybe I would have been able to stop loving him. [p.252]


I found myself, like Ellen, yearning to understand Saskia, and the more I learned about her and what led to her stalking behaviour, her obsession, the more I felt sympathy for her. I couldn't condone it, and like many of the supporting cast in this story, my initial thought was "God, why can't she just move on?" But since when have humans ever been so straight forward? Moriarty probes deeply into Saskia's psyche, rendering her human and thus, understandable. What Saskia can't get over is being cut out of Patrick and Jack's lives, just because she was a girlfriend, not a wife. And Patrick never really understood that either, never considered letting her see Jack or spend time with him; never considered that Jack had now lost two mothers. Because he was a grieving widower, a man in mourning who hadn't worked through his own grief, his own loss, and he was a loving father who wanted to look after his son. It all makes perfect sense, and it's all so messy, and it's almost all a product of miscommunication or misunderstandings or no communication at all, as these things often are. You couldn't find more human characters than these.

I remember thinking that it wasn't fair. If Patrick had been killed in a car accident, I would have been allowed to grieve for him for years. People would have sent me flowers and sympathy cards; they would have dropped off casseroles. I would have been allowed to keep his photos up, to talk about him, to remember the good times. But because he dumped me, because he was still alive, my sadness was considered undignified and pathetic. I wasn't being a proper feminist when I talked about how much I loved him. He stopped loving me, so therefore I had to stop loving him. Immediately. Chop, chop. Turn those silly feelings off right now. Your love is no longer reciprocated, so it is now foolish. [p.317]


There are so many psychological layers to this story. The hypnotherapy sessions were fascinating and gave me great insight into what hypnotherapy is and how it works; I loved reading those scenes. And I loved reading about Ellen. She was completely laid bare, but not in that way where you feel like the author is shoving everything at you with no subtlety. It went so well with Ellen's character, her personality, that her thoughts were open to us readers. I could recognise many of her thoughts, having had similar ones myself, or at least could recognise the realism and frankness in them. She was captured so perfectly, and it was fascinating watching her shift from this neat woman into someone who floundered trying to figure out who she really was.

It was true that she wasn't unhappy about Patrick being a widower. She quite liked the fact that it made things more complicated. It made her feel like she was part of the rich tapestry of life (and death). Also, it gave her a chance to demonstrate her professional skills. She imagined people saying to her, "Do you worry about his feelings for his wife?" and she'd say serenely, "No, actually, I don't." She would understand completely if he still had feelings for his wife. She would know instinctively when to draw back, when to let him grieve for her. [p.46]


She wasn't imagining it. Patrick was definitely talking more about Colleen since their engagement. In fact, she'd started keeping a tally in her head, and there had been at least one reference to Colleen every single day for the last week. [...] If Colleen had been an ordinary living ex-wife or ex-girlfriend, Ellen could have banned all further mentions of her, but as she was dead, and as it was perfectly understandable that having another child would be bringing back memories for Patrick of Jack's birth, and as Colleen was Jack's mother and he loved hearing stories about when his mother was pregnant with him, Ellen felt she not only had to listen politely, but she even had to encourage further revelations about the seemingly perfect Colleen by asking Patrick interested questions with a bright, loving, empathetic expression on her face.

Frankly, it was driving her bananas. [pp.242-3]


Watching Ellen unravel and lose her grip on the kind of person she thought she was, or wanted to be, wasn't exactly satisfying but it was rather riveting. She never came across as superior or uptight in the beginning, but she did seem to be a little too in control, in that way some people are that leaves you thinking that any little rock of the boat could be their undoing, emotionally.

While the story is focused on the characters, there are some plot developments, both in terms of Saskia-the-stalker, Ellen and Patrick's relationship, and Ellen's business. It's just enough to give it forward momentum, but it doesn't suffer from that problem some books have, of starting strong with an interesting premise only to snow-dive towards the end when it seems like the author didn't know where to take it and so threw in a big action climax like an abduction or a car accident or something of that nature, as if the lack of plot suddenly became something to renege on. There is a climax here, a culmination of events that coincides with that freakish, giant dust storm Sydney and other parts of the north-east coast experienced several years ago, but it's not melodramatic, and the ending is satisfying and rather beautiful.

I can't recommend this book highly enough, especially if you enjoy character-driven stories that really lay bare the human soul and all our frailties, our neuroses and the twisted ways our minds work sometimes. Ellen and Saskia are two strong protagonists, vastly different from each other and yet with several things in common, representing something older than this story, something intrinsic about women, about female friendships and the bonds women make, about how women deal with things emotionally and mentally, and how unforgiving we can be of each other. It was hard to say goodbye to them, at the end of this book, after sharing such a momentous chapter in their lives and coming to know them so deeply, like real people revealing their secret thoughts. A thoroughly compelling and beautifully told novel.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Call Me Zelda 15810873
From New York to Paris, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald reigned as king and queen of the Jazz Age, but those who really knew them saw their inner turmoil.

Committed to a Baltimore psychiatric hospital in 1932, Zelda vacillates between lucidity and madness as she fights to forge an identity independent of her famous husband. She discovers a sympathetic ear in her nurse Anna Howard, who finds herself drawn into the Fitzgerald’s tumultuous lives and wonders which of them is the true genius. But in taking greater emotional risks to save Zelda, Anna may end up paying a far higher price than she ever intended.

In this thoroughly researched, deeply moving novel, Erika Robuck explores the boundaries of female friendship, the complexity of marital devotion, and the sources of both art and madness.]]> 338 Erika Robuck 045123992X Shannon 3 , , , and many more. But it was his wife Zelda, a flapper and dancer from the 1920s, who was his inspiration, and it was their tumultuous, resentful yet passionate relationship the gave their peers much to talk about. Zelda is a high-strung, emotional, creative woman, a beauty in her day with one child, Frances "Scottie" Fitzgerald.

In 1932, Zelda voluntarily enters the Phipps Psychiatric Clinic, a private mental hospital attached to John Hopkins University Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. It is from there that Erika Robuck's story takes off, introducing us to our narrator at the same time as we meet the Fitzgeralds. Anna Howard is a psychiatric nurse, thirty-five and possibly widowed - her husband Ben never returned from the Great War, and her daughter, Katie, died of pneumonia when still just a child. Alone, Anna puts her energies into caring for the patients in her care, and is drawn to Zelda, quickly forming a bond with the fragile woman.

Zelda is a complex sort, artistic and creative yet struggling against her husband's anger that she is writing a novel that tells the story from a woman's perspective, at the same time as Scott is working on his own version: Tender is the Night. Years ago, Zelda had let Scott read her diaries and he kept them, using them as material for his novels and refusing to return them. Finally, he hid them and they were never seen again. Zelda becomes quite convinced that if she can get her diaries back, something in her will be mended, like putting back a piece of her soul.

Over the years that follow, as Zelda goes in and out of professional psychiatric care and becomes increasingly unhinged, Anna remains her private nurse or, later, her friend. She never forgot about the diaries, so that, in 1948, when Zelda reaches out to her after years of silence, Anna takes it upon herself to complete this last task, to find or at least attempt to find Zelda's diaries and so give her friend some peace at last.

I've been putting off writing this review for a while because I'm just not sure how to articulate my thoughts and feelings, or even what they are in regards to this novel. This is Robuck's second book, following on from Hemingway's Girl (which I have but haven't read yet); Hemingway's hatred of Zelda Fitzgerald led to Robuck's curiosity about her, according to her author's note, and I can easily see what intrigued Robuck and what must have annoyed Hemingway. Zelda is one of those characters who would either repel you or call to you: clearly she called to Anna, yet Anna's continuing loyalty and love for Zelda never really made itself felt, or know, to me. I never really understood what lured Anna in. She questions it herself, wondering from time to time if she is just drawn to their celebrity, but decides this is not the case. Unfortunately, she never managed to convince me, or give me to understand just what it was about Zelda - or Scott for that matter - that held her loyalty. They weren't exactly likeable people, after all.

You definitely need Anna in this story, though. At one point I imagined how this would go, written from Zelda's first-person perspective, and the mess that would be made me shudder. She's incoherent at times, suffering from schizophrenia, and even when she's lucid and calm there's something distinctly unstable about her - that comes across clearly, especially in contrast to Anna's calm, stable and reliable sanity. In truth, Robuck did an excellent job at recreating both Zelda and Scott, their explosive relationship, their troubles and their insecurities. Even at their worst, they still managed to elicit some kind of sympathy or understanding in me.

What was jarring was having them juxtaposed against Anna's plain middle class existence. Anna is a lovely woman, the kind of woman who would make a great friend, yet she's not terribly memorable either: she was good at blending into the background when she needed to, which made her a good nurse to the Fitzgerald's, who never cared about witnesses to their fights or their passionate embraces. But she was such a huge contrast to the Fitzgerald's, who are still stuck in the mentality of the 20s hedonistic Jazz Age - wild week-long parties, the kind of lifestyle immortalised in The Great Gatsby: they lived like they were one of Jay Gatsby's parties, all the time. Lots of drinking - Fitzgerald was quite the alcoholic - and that kind of upper-class superiority that became faded and dowdy during the Depression years of the 30s.

If the novel were told from the third-person omniscient and merely focused on the couple, without anyone exterior's perspective, it would have been quite a different novel, and very contained. Having Anna narrate both highlighted the unrealistic lifestyle of the Fitzgerald's and put them into perspective in terms of how everyone else was living, and also isolated them into a bubble. Anna doesn't know their friends, their vast circle of acquaintances; she never went to lavish parties or danced the night away. She worked. She married. She had a daughter and she kept working. She didn't have a nanny, like Zelda had for Scottie; she didn't neglect her child so she could keep on partying. The contrast is jarring, but effectively so. The Fitzgerald's live in their own world, and it's one that is breaking down and rotting from the inside-out.

This is where I struggle: on the one hand, it all works really well and makes for a great story. On the other hand, there was just something missing, something that made it hard for me to really connect, and I can't figure out what that is, even two weeks after finishing it. Perhaps it's the writing style. Perhaps it's the Fitzgerald's, who were such unlikeable people that I couldn't understand Anna's loyalty to them, how quickly she would say "yes" to their demands and requests. It could be that the way we see the Fitzgerald's, long after the blush has faded from their lifestyle and Zelda's being committed, is deeply depressing in the way that only the "end of an era" can be.

One thing that helped was Anna's personal story, which begins so sadly yet ends so happily. Seeing her get a second chance like that stopped the story from sliding into seriously depressing territory - though I did find that the way Anna and many of the characters spoke rang rather modern. Occasionally I had to consciously remind myself that this is set in the 30s and 40s, because it sounded so contemporary at times.

The other thing I really enjoyed about this book was the atmosphere, especially those scenes that let the novel dip into Gothic Horror territory. Zelda's instability and craziness lent it some of that, but there were times when Anna experienced it herself - hallucinations or a creeping sense of dread, or when she visits one of the houses the family had rented many years ago in her search for the diaries, which has lain empty because there's something about it that scares people off. There's something about the Fitzgerald's that naturally leads into gothic horror land, and the atmosphere that surrounds Zelda is always a spooky, creepy one.

Overall, this made me much more curious and interested in the real-life story of Zelda Fitzgerald - and her husband, Scott - than I was before; before reading this I'd never spent any time thinking about her, or them as a family, and what their life might have been like. It makes me interested in reading the recently-released by Therese Anne Fowler - which has a gorgeous cover, it naturally drew my eye - which tells the story of young Zelda and how she met Scott, and their early life together. Though I can't help but think that now that I know how their story ends - tragically, sadly, depressingly - it would make reading Z all that more sad. Still, I do recommend this, especially if you're interested in the real lives of this celebrity couple and want to know more about them. They were both such flawed people, and so creative, their lives are endlessly intriguing. (For a more positive - and definitely better written - review of this book, visit .)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.70 2013 Call Me Zelda
author: Erika Robuck
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.70
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/05/30
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: historical-fiction, review-copy, 2013, gothic-horror
review:
F Scott Fitzgerald remains one of America's most famous novelists, penning such titles as , , , and many more. But it was his wife Zelda, a flapper and dancer from the 1920s, who was his inspiration, and it was their tumultuous, resentful yet passionate relationship the gave their peers much to talk about. Zelda is a high-strung, emotional, creative woman, a beauty in her day with one child, Frances "Scottie" Fitzgerald.

In 1932, Zelda voluntarily enters the Phipps Psychiatric Clinic, a private mental hospital attached to John Hopkins University Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. It is from there that Erika Robuck's story takes off, introducing us to our narrator at the same time as we meet the Fitzgeralds. Anna Howard is a psychiatric nurse, thirty-five and possibly widowed - her husband Ben never returned from the Great War, and her daughter, Katie, died of pneumonia when still just a child. Alone, Anna puts her energies into caring for the patients in her care, and is drawn to Zelda, quickly forming a bond with the fragile woman.

Zelda is a complex sort, artistic and creative yet struggling against her husband's anger that she is writing a novel that tells the story from a woman's perspective, at the same time as Scott is working on his own version: Tender is the Night. Years ago, Zelda had let Scott read her diaries and he kept them, using them as material for his novels and refusing to return them. Finally, he hid them and they were never seen again. Zelda becomes quite convinced that if she can get her diaries back, something in her will be mended, like putting back a piece of her soul.

Over the years that follow, as Zelda goes in and out of professional psychiatric care and becomes increasingly unhinged, Anna remains her private nurse or, later, her friend. She never forgot about the diaries, so that, in 1948, when Zelda reaches out to her after years of silence, Anna takes it upon herself to complete this last task, to find or at least attempt to find Zelda's diaries and so give her friend some peace at last.

I've been putting off writing this review for a while because I'm just not sure how to articulate my thoughts and feelings, or even what they are in regards to this novel. This is Robuck's second book, following on from Hemingway's Girl (which I have but haven't read yet); Hemingway's hatred of Zelda Fitzgerald led to Robuck's curiosity about her, according to her author's note, and I can easily see what intrigued Robuck and what must have annoyed Hemingway. Zelda is one of those characters who would either repel you or call to you: clearly she called to Anna, yet Anna's continuing loyalty and love for Zelda never really made itself felt, or know, to me. I never really understood what lured Anna in. She questions it herself, wondering from time to time if she is just drawn to their celebrity, but decides this is not the case. Unfortunately, she never managed to convince me, or give me to understand just what it was about Zelda - or Scott for that matter - that held her loyalty. They weren't exactly likeable people, after all.

You definitely need Anna in this story, though. At one point I imagined how this would go, written from Zelda's first-person perspective, and the mess that would be made me shudder. She's incoherent at times, suffering from schizophrenia, and even when she's lucid and calm there's something distinctly unstable about her - that comes across clearly, especially in contrast to Anna's calm, stable and reliable sanity. In truth, Robuck did an excellent job at recreating both Zelda and Scott, their explosive relationship, their troubles and their insecurities. Even at their worst, they still managed to elicit some kind of sympathy or understanding in me.

What was jarring was having them juxtaposed against Anna's plain middle class existence. Anna is a lovely woman, the kind of woman who would make a great friend, yet she's not terribly memorable either: she was good at blending into the background when she needed to, which made her a good nurse to the Fitzgerald's, who never cared about witnesses to their fights or their passionate embraces. But she was such a huge contrast to the Fitzgerald's, who are still stuck in the mentality of the 20s hedonistic Jazz Age - wild week-long parties, the kind of lifestyle immortalised in The Great Gatsby: they lived like they were one of Jay Gatsby's parties, all the time. Lots of drinking - Fitzgerald was quite the alcoholic - and that kind of upper-class superiority that became faded and dowdy during the Depression years of the 30s.

If the novel were told from the third-person omniscient and merely focused on the couple, without anyone exterior's perspective, it would have been quite a different novel, and very contained. Having Anna narrate both highlighted the unrealistic lifestyle of the Fitzgerald's and put them into perspective in terms of how everyone else was living, and also isolated them into a bubble. Anna doesn't know their friends, their vast circle of acquaintances; she never went to lavish parties or danced the night away. She worked. She married. She had a daughter and she kept working. She didn't have a nanny, like Zelda had for Scottie; she didn't neglect her child so she could keep on partying. The contrast is jarring, but effectively so. The Fitzgerald's live in their own world, and it's one that is breaking down and rotting from the inside-out.

This is where I struggle: on the one hand, it all works really well and makes for a great story. On the other hand, there was just something missing, something that made it hard for me to really connect, and I can't figure out what that is, even two weeks after finishing it. Perhaps it's the writing style. Perhaps it's the Fitzgerald's, who were such unlikeable people that I couldn't understand Anna's loyalty to them, how quickly she would say "yes" to their demands and requests. It could be that the way we see the Fitzgerald's, long after the blush has faded from their lifestyle and Zelda's being committed, is deeply depressing in the way that only the "end of an era" can be.

One thing that helped was Anna's personal story, which begins so sadly yet ends so happily. Seeing her get a second chance like that stopped the story from sliding into seriously depressing territory - though I did find that the way Anna and many of the characters spoke rang rather modern. Occasionally I had to consciously remind myself that this is set in the 30s and 40s, because it sounded so contemporary at times.

The other thing I really enjoyed about this book was the atmosphere, especially those scenes that let the novel dip into Gothic Horror territory. Zelda's instability and craziness lent it some of that, but there were times when Anna experienced it herself - hallucinations or a creeping sense of dread, or when she visits one of the houses the family had rented many years ago in her search for the diaries, which has lain empty because there's something about it that scares people off. There's something about the Fitzgerald's that naturally leads into gothic horror land, and the atmosphere that surrounds Zelda is always a spooky, creepy one.

Overall, this made me much more curious and interested in the real-life story of Zelda Fitzgerald - and her husband, Scott - than I was before; before reading this I'd never spent any time thinking about her, or them as a family, and what their life might have been like. It makes me interested in reading the recently-released by Therese Anne Fowler - which has a gorgeous cover, it naturally drew my eye - which tells the story of young Zelda and how she met Scott, and their early life together. Though I can't help but think that now that I know how their story ends - tragically, sadly, depressingly - it would make reading Z all that more sad. Still, I do recommend this, especially if you're interested in the real lives of this celebrity couple and want to know more about them. They were both such flawed people, and so creative, their lives are endlessly intriguing. (For a more positive - and definitely better written - review of this book, visit .)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Ink (Paper Gods, #1) 13423346
Then there’s gorgeous but aloof Tomohiro, star of the school’s kendo team. How did he really get the scar on his arm? Katie isn’t prepared for the answer. But when she sees the things he draws start moving, there’s no denying the truth: Tomo has a connection to the ancient gods of Japan, and being near Katie is causing his abilities to spiral out of control. If the wrong people notice, they'll both be targets.

Katie never wanted to move to Japan—now she may not make it out of the country alive.]]> 326 Amanda Sun 037321071X Shannon 3
At school, it feels like Katie is committing one faux pas after another. When she goes back to the school building to change her indoor slippers for her shoes, she finds herself eavesdropping on the dramatic breakup between Myu and her boyfriend, the school Kendo champion, Tomohiro Yuu. Katie isn't sure what is worse: seeing the callous way Tomohiro is treating Myu, who thinks he cheated on her and got another girl pregnant, or catching the hidden feeling on Tomo's face beneath his smirking facade. In that glimpse she can see that the boy is pretending he doesn't care about Myu, but she has no idea why. When Myu brandishes the sketchbook at Tomo as proof and then flings it to the floor, the pages scatter and one lands by Katie's feet behind the sliding door. She picks it up and sees a drawing of a girl sitting on a park bench, the rounded bump of a pregnant belly visible under her top. What shocks Katie to her core is when the girl in the drawing turns her head and glares at Katie.

It is only the beginning - the start of Katie's fascination and suspicions about Tomo, which lead to an odd friendship between them where animosity was before, and then something deeper and sweeter. But it is also the beginning of a new path in Katie's life, as she learns about the kami, a word that means both "paper" and "god" in Japanese, and what that means to Tomo and his ability to bring ink drawings to life - a gift that goes haywire when Katie is around.

What is Katie to the kami? Why is the ink drawn to her, like she's a magnetic force? Can she help Tomo control this power and help protect him from the yakuza, who see his ability to draw money and weapons that actually fire a boon to their cause. But the biggest question of all: can she leave Japan behind and continue on with her other life, now that she knows about kami and has fallen for Tomo? Even if staying together means danger and worse? The months ahead are full of unexpected excitement and danger and one very beautiful, tormented, talented boy for Katie Greene.

I was very keen to read this when I heard it was a fantasy novel set in modern-day Japan, because after I finished uni I lived and worked in Japan for about three years (until early 2005), and I love reading stories set there (especially by Japanese authors). Often when I'm reading YA books from America, they have some Spanish in them, which I know nothing of and can barely pronounce. And when I read adult novels, I often come across French words and sentences or expressions, which I can sometimes figure out, sometimes not, and my pronunciation is atrocious. I always feel left out, like I'm missing nuances and cultural references and so on, and not getting the full impact of the story because of it. So as I was reading Ink, I was absolute in love with my ability to pronounce all the Japanese words (I'm terrible at learning languages and have forgotten much that I did learn while there, but the one thing I was really good at was pronunciation! Japanese is actually quite easy to pronounce once you learn the very simple rules), and I was able to recognise and understand a lot of the words and expressions. After always feeling left out as I mentioned above, I had a kind of heady rush of exhilaration - that sensation of being included, of being "in" on the joke, so to speak. The cultural references were all familiar to me, I "got" all the details and their importance, socially-speaking, and yet there were still some things new to me that meant I could learn from it. It's clear that Amanda Sun has spent considerable time in Japan and has a far greater ability with the language than I ever did!

There were other aspects of the novel that I really liked. I liked Katie, most of the time - she sometimes slipped into whiny-YA-heroine mode for no apparent reason, it didn't even seem to really gel with her character - and she came across as a bit, well, a bit aggressive or bull-headed at times. And she existed in a sort of vacuum: we learn nothing about who she was prior to coming to Japan, what kind of person she was, what her interests are, so there's no contrast or real understanding of her character. Yet I really liked watching her adapt and even embrace living in Japan. She went way out of her comfort zone and was richly rewarded.

I took my black chopsticks and lifted the leftover croquettes from my bentou into my mouth. The taste of peanut-butter sandwiches had drifted away with my old life. I wondered who I was then, when I couldn't speak or read or eat, totally immobilized by the change in my world. Vines were entangling the hole in my heart, buds sprouting on the outskirts. There was still a void, a pocket of emptiness. But around it, my heart was blooming.


I enjoyed the Japanese characters too, though they weren't as well fleshed out, especially Katie's friends at school, Yuki and Tanaka. They were sadly one-dimensional, Katie's "token" friends. Tomohiro was a much more vivid character, which is just as well because in many ways, he carries the story. The other key male characters were Tomo's friend and yakuza wannabe, Ishikawa; and Jun, a boy Katie meets on the subway who turns up at other times just when she needs the help. There's was always something a bit suspicious about Jun, and the revelations at the end worked well with the impression of his character I'd already built in my mind.

While the pacing was good and there wasn't an overload of exposition - explaining Japanese elements, for instance - to bog it down (explanations were given when needed, and were slipped in quite naturally I thought), there were weaknesses to the story. The fantasy side of the premise and plot, which had initially appealed to me, failed to really excite me in the end. It just didn't really go anywhere. Once Katie learns about the kami and what Tomo can actually do, she doesn't really learn anything new about it, and so the fantasy element stagnated a bit. There is some exciting and dangerous scenes, but they somehow lacked the desired impact. And while I enjoyed the character of Tomo and there were moments when he felt real and vibrant to me, overall the connection between him and Katie lacked the kind of chemistry you'd want to feel when you get two characters in their situation. There's tension, but also a great deal of distance. Perhaps the tricky part is maintaining his Japanese-ness while satisfying a non-Japanese audience. Romance Japanese-style isn't like romance, Western-style.

This is going to be a bit of a hard sell to a white Western audience, I think, and that will be a shame, because there's a lot of potential here, a lot of exciting new ideas, and some great writing. Some of Tomohiro's drawings are shown in the book and there's some flip-page animation which you can't get the full benefit of when reading this on an e-reader as I did: I'm going to have to pick this up in a bookshop and check out the illustrations in person. Bottom line? Absolutely give this a go. It's genuine and different and has moments of excellence, and it just might be different enough to win you over. Or maybe not - it could be that I'm more in love with the Japanese setting than anything else, and that has distracted me from its larger flaws. It didn't wholly satisfy me in the end, but I am curious about where the story is going from here.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.]]> 3.66 2013 Ink (Paper Gods, #1)
author: Amanda Sun
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.66
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/06/05
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, ya, netgalley, e-book, cover-love, 2013, fantasy
review:
When Katie Greene's mother dies and leaves her only child an orphan, she is sent to live with her aunt in Shizuoka, Japan, instead of with her grandparents in Canada, her preferred choice. Her aunt is an English teacher living alone, and encourages Katie to embrace the language and culture and have some fun. Katie learns the language to attend school but sees it as a waiting period, while her grandparents wait to see if her grandfather's cancer is in remission and the paperwork goes through for her to live with them instead.

At school, it feels like Katie is committing one faux pas after another. When she goes back to the school building to change her indoor slippers for her shoes, she finds herself eavesdropping on the dramatic breakup between Myu and her boyfriend, the school Kendo champion, Tomohiro Yuu. Katie isn't sure what is worse: seeing the callous way Tomohiro is treating Myu, who thinks he cheated on her and got another girl pregnant, or catching the hidden feeling on Tomo's face beneath his smirking facade. In that glimpse she can see that the boy is pretending he doesn't care about Myu, but she has no idea why. When Myu brandishes the sketchbook at Tomo as proof and then flings it to the floor, the pages scatter and one lands by Katie's feet behind the sliding door. She picks it up and sees a drawing of a girl sitting on a park bench, the rounded bump of a pregnant belly visible under her top. What shocks Katie to her core is when the girl in the drawing turns her head and glares at Katie.

It is only the beginning - the start of Katie's fascination and suspicions about Tomo, which lead to an odd friendship between them where animosity was before, and then something deeper and sweeter. But it is also the beginning of a new path in Katie's life, as she learns about the kami, a word that means both "paper" and "god" in Japanese, and what that means to Tomo and his ability to bring ink drawings to life - a gift that goes haywire when Katie is around.

What is Katie to the kami? Why is the ink drawn to her, like she's a magnetic force? Can she help Tomo control this power and help protect him from the yakuza, who see his ability to draw money and weapons that actually fire a boon to their cause. But the biggest question of all: can she leave Japan behind and continue on with her other life, now that she knows about kami and has fallen for Tomo? Even if staying together means danger and worse? The months ahead are full of unexpected excitement and danger and one very beautiful, tormented, talented boy for Katie Greene.

I was very keen to read this when I heard it was a fantasy novel set in modern-day Japan, because after I finished uni I lived and worked in Japan for about three years (until early 2005), and I love reading stories set there (especially by Japanese authors). Often when I'm reading YA books from America, they have some Spanish in them, which I know nothing of and can barely pronounce. And when I read adult novels, I often come across French words and sentences or expressions, which I can sometimes figure out, sometimes not, and my pronunciation is atrocious. I always feel left out, like I'm missing nuances and cultural references and so on, and not getting the full impact of the story because of it. So as I was reading Ink, I was absolute in love with my ability to pronounce all the Japanese words (I'm terrible at learning languages and have forgotten much that I did learn while there, but the one thing I was really good at was pronunciation! Japanese is actually quite easy to pronounce once you learn the very simple rules), and I was able to recognise and understand a lot of the words and expressions. After always feeling left out as I mentioned above, I had a kind of heady rush of exhilaration - that sensation of being included, of being "in" on the joke, so to speak. The cultural references were all familiar to me, I "got" all the details and their importance, socially-speaking, and yet there were still some things new to me that meant I could learn from it. It's clear that Amanda Sun has spent considerable time in Japan and has a far greater ability with the language than I ever did!

There were other aspects of the novel that I really liked. I liked Katie, most of the time - she sometimes slipped into whiny-YA-heroine mode for no apparent reason, it didn't even seem to really gel with her character - and she came across as a bit, well, a bit aggressive or bull-headed at times. And she existed in a sort of vacuum: we learn nothing about who she was prior to coming to Japan, what kind of person she was, what her interests are, so there's no contrast or real understanding of her character. Yet I really liked watching her adapt and even embrace living in Japan. She went way out of her comfort zone and was richly rewarded.

I took my black chopsticks and lifted the leftover croquettes from my bentou into my mouth. The taste of peanut-butter sandwiches had drifted away with my old life. I wondered who I was then, when I couldn't speak or read or eat, totally immobilized by the change in my world. Vines were entangling the hole in my heart, buds sprouting on the outskirts. There was still a void, a pocket of emptiness. But around it, my heart was blooming.


I enjoyed the Japanese characters too, though they weren't as well fleshed out, especially Katie's friends at school, Yuki and Tanaka. They were sadly one-dimensional, Katie's "token" friends. Tomohiro was a much more vivid character, which is just as well because in many ways, he carries the story. The other key male characters were Tomo's friend and yakuza wannabe, Ishikawa; and Jun, a boy Katie meets on the subway who turns up at other times just when she needs the help. There's was always something a bit suspicious about Jun, and the revelations at the end worked well with the impression of his character I'd already built in my mind.

While the pacing was good and there wasn't an overload of exposition - explaining Japanese elements, for instance - to bog it down (explanations were given when needed, and were slipped in quite naturally I thought), there were weaknesses to the story. The fantasy side of the premise and plot, which had initially appealed to me, failed to really excite me in the end. It just didn't really go anywhere. Once Katie learns about the kami and what Tomo can actually do, she doesn't really learn anything new about it, and so the fantasy element stagnated a bit. There is some exciting and dangerous scenes, but they somehow lacked the desired impact. And while I enjoyed the character of Tomo and there were moments when he felt real and vibrant to me, overall the connection between him and Katie lacked the kind of chemistry you'd want to feel when you get two characters in their situation. There's tension, but also a great deal of distance. Perhaps the tricky part is maintaining his Japanese-ness while satisfying a non-Japanese audience. Romance Japanese-style isn't like romance, Western-style.

This is going to be a bit of a hard sell to a white Western audience, I think, and that will be a shame, because there's a lot of potential here, a lot of exciting new ideas, and some great writing. Some of Tomohiro's drawings are shown in the book and there's some flip-page animation which you can't get the full benefit of when reading this on an e-reader as I did: I'm going to have to pick this up in a bookshop and check out the illustrations in person. Bottom line? Absolutely give this a go. It's genuine and different and has moments of excellence, and it just might be different enough to win you over. Or maybe not - it could be that I'm more in love with the Japanese setting than anything else, and that has distracted me from its larger flaws. It didn't wholly satisfy me in the end, but I am curious about where the story is going from here.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> The Illusion of Separateness 16248119
Whether they are pursued by Nazi soldiers, old age, shame, deformity, disease, or regret, the varied characters of Simon Van Booy's utterly compelling novel The Illusion of Separateness discover in their darkest moments of fear and isolation that they are not alone, that they were never alone, that every human being is a link in an unseen chain.

This gripping, emotional story intertwines the stories of several compelling characters: a deformed German infantryman; a lonely British film director; a young, blind museum curator; Jewish-American newlyweds separated by war; a lost child on the brink of starvation; and a caretaker at a retirement home for actors in Santa Monica. The same world moves beneath each of them, and one by one, through seemingly random acts of selflessness, they discover the vital parts they have played in each other's lives, a realization that shatters the illusion of their separateness.]]> 212 Simon Van Booy 0062112244 Shannon 4
Mr Hugo once lived in England. His neighbour was a boy called Danny whom he taught how to read. Danny went on to become a film director and arranged for Mr Hugo to move to the States - Mr Hugo, who barely remembers who he is but knows that he once wore a grey uniform and raised his arm to the Führer. And that somewhere, somehow, he lost half his head and became homeless, living in a park in Paris, fed leftover bread by a boy whose parents owned a nearby bakery.

And from America comes John, a pilot shot down over France and believed to be dead until his wife received a telegram some time later. What do these three men have in common? Where do their stories intersect? As we get to know them and other characters who connect to them and to each other, we learn the important roles they inadvertently played in each other's lives, and "the illusion of their separateness".

The Illusion of Separateness is a beautiful story, one loosely bound by the fluid reach of time and place, dipping into the lives of various people around the world until a whole picture forms and, at the end, all the threads come together. The feeling this rather short novel leaves you with is one of almost lightheadedness, of a kind of satisfaction - the kind that comes with a mystery solved - yet also sadness, the sadness of isolation, persecution, senseless death, misery, survival, abandonment, revenge and mercy. This novel is woven of sadness, but it is the kind of sadness that tinges rather than taints, that makes a story not depressing but uplifting, inspiring. Van Booy has done a simple magic trick, making a complex story told in lyrical prose look simple and easy.

There is a lot to love here. The sense of the world and our short human lives both leaving marks upon it and also being so easily dismantled, swept aside, built upon, is a prevalent theme. Here one moment, gone the next. Transient, but not transparent. And of course the theme of interconnectedness is a strong one. We're all familiar with the idea of "six degrees of separation"; this is like that, but how the characters' connect with each other is often a matter of life and death. One of the special qualities of the novel is how all the individual stories gain so much meaning and weight when brought together and linked up, creating a powerful feeling of wholeness and rightness and, again, sadness - the complicated kind I mentioned above.

I noted some of my favourite lines to share with you, beginning with Martin, who had been adopted by his parents in Paris during WWII when, according to them, a man had thrust the baby into his adoptive mother's arms - he knows nothing about where he comes from or who his parents are, a mystery that preoccupies him greatly. He's a university student when he realises that he's actually Jewish.

He had been reborn into the nightmare of truth. The history of others had been his all along. The idea of it was more than he could bear. People hiding in the sewers; women giving birth in the dark, in the damp and filth, then suffocating their babies so as not to give the others away.
Families ripped apart like bits of paper thrown into the wind.
They all blew into his face. [p.8]


Twenty-six year old Amelia, in New York state, is John's granddaughter, and became permanently blind as a child.

Sometimes I inhale the scent of her makeup as though trying to lift the veil of who my mother is. [p.62]

In summer, I sleep with my windows open. Night holds my body in its mouth.
In this second darkness, my desire flings itself upon a world of closed eyes.
Then dreams break against the rocks of morning. [p.63]


I think some people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment - we are all defined by something we can't change. [p.82]


There's definitely a temptation to read this book quickly, because it's fairly short and reads so smoothly and fluidly, but to do so would be to do yourself a disservice. As it is I feel like I need to re-read it several times to understand and feel it all. Van Booy has successfully captured the chaos, the bloodshed, the fear and anger of World War II, but also the beauty of the individual, the sense that each person is someone of value and whose life is not that cheap, should not be taken away so cheaply. Even Mr Hugo, once a German soldier who did what he was told, is not so easily dismissed as the enemy.

The only section that didn't quite work for me was Danny's chapter. It seemed like the only purpose Danny had in the whole story was a way to get Mr Hugo to America and in Martin's company, and as such it felt a bit contrived - a disappointingly weak link in an otherwise very strong story. All the other connections felt right and meaningful, but this one just didn't quite make sense.

Told in a classic "tell" style, in the case of The Illusion of Separateness the narrative style works very well. Often it's an alienating style, making it hard for me to connect with the characters or feel like I'm needed rather than a passive audience. Not so with this book. Instead, the prose sweeps you up and it is like watching a complex dream unfold, an epic story spanning generations, eras, continents, always managing to leave you plenty of breathing room for active reading. Always there is that sense of layers, of time leaving footprints, and that history isn't a story with a beginning and an end, but an ongoing organic process that not only binds the world together but also connects us, so that no matter how isolated, how separate, we seem to be, in truth it is an illusion, and connections abound all around us.

A deceptively simple story about ordinary people that, when the separate stories are woven together like this, becomes a rich tapestry of interconnected lives showing how deeply a person can affect our own life, making it all the more richer for that connection.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours. Please note that quotations are taken from the uncorrected proof and may not appear exactly the same in the final copy.
]]> 3.99 2013 The Illusion of Separateness
author: Simon Van Booy
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.99
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/12
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, historical-fiction, tlc-book-tours, 2013, ww2
review:
Martin, a widower, works at the Starlight Retirement Center in Los Angeles, listening to the residents, mopping the floor, fixing things. On this day in 2010, he helps prepare for the welcome party for a new resident, Mr Hugo. When Mr Hugo arrives, a very old man with a deformed head, he has a heart attack and dies in Martin's arms. The world is a small place, and connections are all around us.

Mr Hugo once lived in England. His neighbour was a boy called Danny whom he taught how to read. Danny went on to become a film director and arranged for Mr Hugo to move to the States - Mr Hugo, who barely remembers who he is but knows that he once wore a grey uniform and raised his arm to the Führer. And that somewhere, somehow, he lost half his head and became homeless, living in a park in Paris, fed leftover bread by a boy whose parents owned a nearby bakery.

And from America comes John, a pilot shot down over France and believed to be dead until his wife received a telegram some time later. What do these three men have in common? Where do their stories intersect? As we get to know them and other characters who connect to them and to each other, we learn the important roles they inadvertently played in each other's lives, and "the illusion of their separateness".

The Illusion of Separateness is a beautiful story, one loosely bound by the fluid reach of time and place, dipping into the lives of various people around the world until a whole picture forms and, at the end, all the threads come together. The feeling this rather short novel leaves you with is one of almost lightheadedness, of a kind of satisfaction - the kind that comes with a mystery solved - yet also sadness, the sadness of isolation, persecution, senseless death, misery, survival, abandonment, revenge and mercy. This novel is woven of sadness, but it is the kind of sadness that tinges rather than taints, that makes a story not depressing but uplifting, inspiring. Van Booy has done a simple magic trick, making a complex story told in lyrical prose look simple and easy.

There is a lot to love here. The sense of the world and our short human lives both leaving marks upon it and also being so easily dismantled, swept aside, built upon, is a prevalent theme. Here one moment, gone the next. Transient, but not transparent. And of course the theme of interconnectedness is a strong one. We're all familiar with the idea of "six degrees of separation"; this is like that, but how the characters' connect with each other is often a matter of life and death. One of the special qualities of the novel is how all the individual stories gain so much meaning and weight when brought together and linked up, creating a powerful feeling of wholeness and rightness and, again, sadness - the complicated kind I mentioned above.

I noted some of my favourite lines to share with you, beginning with Martin, who had been adopted by his parents in Paris during WWII when, according to them, a man had thrust the baby into his adoptive mother's arms - he knows nothing about where he comes from or who his parents are, a mystery that preoccupies him greatly. He's a university student when he realises that he's actually Jewish.

He had been reborn into the nightmare of truth. The history of others had been his all along. The idea of it was more than he could bear. People hiding in the sewers; women giving birth in the dark, in the damp and filth, then suffocating their babies so as not to give the others away.
Families ripped apart like bits of paper thrown into the wind.
They all blew into his face. [p.8]


Twenty-six year old Amelia, in New York state, is John's granddaughter, and became permanently blind as a child.

Sometimes I inhale the scent of her makeup as though trying to lift the veil of who my mother is. [p.62]

In summer, I sleep with my windows open. Night holds my body in its mouth.
In this second darkness, my desire flings itself upon a world of closed eyes.
Then dreams break against the rocks of morning. [p.63]


I think some people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment - we are all defined by something we can't change. [p.82]


There's definitely a temptation to read this book quickly, because it's fairly short and reads so smoothly and fluidly, but to do so would be to do yourself a disservice. As it is I feel like I need to re-read it several times to understand and feel it all. Van Booy has successfully captured the chaos, the bloodshed, the fear and anger of World War II, but also the beauty of the individual, the sense that each person is someone of value and whose life is not that cheap, should not be taken away so cheaply. Even Mr Hugo, once a German soldier who did what he was told, is not so easily dismissed as the enemy.

The only section that didn't quite work for me was Danny's chapter. It seemed like the only purpose Danny had in the whole story was a way to get Mr Hugo to America and in Martin's company, and as such it felt a bit contrived - a disappointingly weak link in an otherwise very strong story. All the other connections felt right and meaningful, but this one just didn't quite make sense.

Told in a classic "tell" style, in the case of The Illusion of Separateness the narrative style works very well. Often it's an alienating style, making it hard for me to connect with the characters or feel like I'm needed rather than a passive audience. Not so with this book. Instead, the prose sweeps you up and it is like watching a complex dream unfold, an epic story spanning generations, eras, continents, always managing to leave you plenty of breathing room for active reading. Always there is that sense of layers, of time leaving footprints, and that history isn't a story with a beginning and an end, but an ongoing organic process that not only binds the world together but also connects us, so that no matter how isolated, how separate, we seem to be, in truth it is an illusion, and connections abound all around us.

A deceptively simple story about ordinary people that, when the separate stories are woven together like this, becomes a rich tapestry of interconnected lives showing how deeply a person can affect our own life, making it all the more richer for that connection.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours. Please note that quotations are taken from the uncorrected proof and may not appear exactly the same in the final copy.

]]> Flight Behavior 13438524 Flight Behavior takes on one of the most contentious subjects of our time: climate change. With a deft and versatile empathy Kingsolver dissects the motives that drive denial and belief in a precarious world.

Flight Behavior transfixes from its opening scene, when a young woman's narrow experience of life is thrown wide with the force of a raging fire. In the lyrical language of her native Appalachia, Barbara Kingsolver bares the rich, tarnished humanity of her novel's inhabitants and unearths the modern complexities of rural existence. Characters and reader alike are quickly carried beyond familiar territory here, into the unsettled ground of science, faith, and everyday truces between reason and conviction.

Dellarobia Turnbow is a restless farm wife who gave up her own plans when she accidentally became pregnant at seventeen. Now, after a decade of domestic disharmony on a failing farm, she has settled for permanent disappointment but seeks momentary escape through an obsessive flirtation with a younger man. As she hikes up a mountain road behind her house to a secret tryst, she encounters a shocking sight: a silent, forested valley filled with what looks like a lake of fire. She can only understand it as a cautionary miracle, but it sparks a raft of other explanations from scientists, religious leaders, and the media. The bewildering emergency draws rural farmers into unexpected acquaintance with urbane journalists, opportunists, sightseers, and a striking biologist with his own stake in the outcome. As the community lines up to judge the woman and her miracle, Dellarobia confronts her family, her church, her town, and a larger world, in a flight toward truth that could undo all she has ever believed.

Flight Behavior takes on one of the most contentious subjects of our time: climate change. With a deft and versatile empathy Kingsolver dissects the motives that drive denial and belief in a precarious world.]]> 436 Barbara Kingsolver 0062124269 Shannon 4 3.79 2012 Flight Behavior
author: Barbara Kingsolver
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.79
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/06/28
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: tlc-book-tours, review-copy, fiction, 2013
review:

]]> Amity & Sorrow 15790893
A mother and her daughters drive for days without sleep until they crash their car in rural Oklahoma. The mother, Amaranth, is desperate to get away from someone she's convinced will follow them wherever they go - her husband. The girls, Amity and Sorrow, can't imagine what the world holds outside their father's polygamous compound. Rescue comes in the unlikely form of Bradley, a farmer grieving the loss of his wife. At first unwelcoming to these strange, prayerful women, Bradley's abiding tolerance gets the best of him, and they become a new kind of family. An unforgettable story of belief and redemption, Amity & Sorrow is about the influence of community and learning to stand on your own.]]> 313 Peggy Riley 0316220884 Shannon 3
Now, after a showdown with local police who were more worried than anything else that ended in their temple burning, Amaranth took the opportunity to flee. Taking one of their many cars, the boot loaded with provisions she's been hiding away, she drives for four days across the country, with her two daughters, Amity and Sorrow, sitting in the backseat. After Sorrow's first attempt to escape when they stopped for fuel, Amaranth tied her daughters together at the wrist with a strap. But driving without sleep takes its toll, and in the middle of nowhere, Amaranth crashes into a stump, flipping the car onto its roof.

There is help at hand, of a sort: they are by an old shop and petrol pump that belong to a farmer called Bradley. His wife has left him and he has only an adopted teenaged son nicknamed Dust to help him on the farm. In this corner of Oklahoma - the dusty panhandle to Oklahoma's frying pan - there's little money to be made off the farm which is being squeezed by the companies selling the seed, and aside from letting the strange trio sleep on his porch, Bradley has little interest in helping them.

Amaranth was initially certain that Zacharia was following them, hunting them, livid with rage and determined to drag them back. But as the days go by and he never appears, she turns her attention to Bradley and the run-down house. Meanwhile, her daughters - aged fifteen and twelve - are caught in a strange new world where the rules they have always lived by are being discarded and everything they once understood about the world is being threatened by a new reality. Amity, younger and more flexible of mind, tries to incorporate the new world into her previous understanding, but Sorrow remains fixed in her belief of her father's claims, and will not be shaken. She is determined to get home to him and in her skewed reality, it matters not who is harmed along the way.

Amity & Sorrow is a fairly short novel and simple in its structure and its story; yet for all that it focuses its energy on some big key themes and explores them deftly without falling too heavily into the tides of melodrama - yet it becomes somewhat side-tracked by these issues at the detriment of its characters. The story could certainly have gone many ways, and one of the reasons why I've given as detailed a summary as I have, is because I felt a bit lost going into this - I wasn't even sure of the time period, at first, or where it was going. Sometimes this is ideal, preferred even, but other times it helps to know something of the story first.

But as I said, this is a story of themes rather than action, a story of human nature rather than a story of a life's journey. It takes on some key themes that are something of a preoccupation in America: fervent, zealous religion and a belief in televangalists and the end of the world; and the sorry state of agriculture - which ties into the end-of-the-world frenzy, the idea that everything's going to shit. Bradley, the farmer, lends his voice to this theme, giving voice to the paradox of large scale farming and the problems that arise when the seed companies - and the stock market and government policy - dictate what he can and can't grow.

"I got acres of rape out there and I don't know what I'm doin'. We was always wheat here but the price drops and someone says they want rapeseed oil, so you buy it and you plant it and then they call in a loan. You plant soybean, then sorghum, and you keep settin' your share, diggin' deep, diggin' broad, puttin' in things you never grew before 'cause they say someone'll buy 'em. And everythin' you grow you sell and put back into seeds, 'cause they won't let you save seeds anymore. And then you have to spray and you have to buy their spray. And then out of the blue, folks want organic, but your seeds and spray ain't green and if you don't spray you'll only harvest cheatgrass and shattercane. And then they tell you to plant corn for ethanol when that's what all the rape was for. [...] When all of this was dust once. And before that it was buffalo grass and they made it worse, men like my pa, settin' their shares too deep. Wantin' too much. Turning everythin' over 'til nothing would grow. [...] Hell, anything growin' here is a miracle."


The landscape of this part of Oklahoma is a tangible, vivid one, as is the sense of isolation and poverty. It's in the small details but also captured effortlessly in Bradley himself, who typifies the situation in the way he speaks, the life he's lived, his attempts to keep going and not give in, though he knows full well that farming's a joke when the soil's bereft of nutrients and there's barely any rain. He's trying to make a living off a new kind of desert, and that makes a certain kind of man.

Tied into this is, of course, the much larger theme around religion in America. Zacharia's polygamist cult consisted of fifty wives by the time Amaranth leaves, and while many of them are brought back by her husband at the end of his summer preaching travels, others arrive of their own accord, having met him and learned about the commune as a place they can escape their old lives to, a place of basics and a simple life far removed from terrorist attacks, drugs and all the other problems that come with living our hectic contemporary lifestyle. This will resonate easily with Riley's readers, giving Zacharia's cult believability - and from there it's not such a huge step to understand how people can buy into his fervent spiels about God and the coming apocalypse, especially as these women have all seen (or are all thinking about) the worst side of humanity.

Where the cult becomes scary is when the madness takes over, when the things Zachariah says lose all semblance of reason, and, most especially, with Sorrow. She's at that age where teens are caught up in their hormones, carving out a place for themselves and trying to figure out their identities. Sorrow believes everything her father says and more, she has created a God that no one outside her would recognise, and she makes the rules up as she goes without even realising it, all to satisfy whatever aim or desire she has. She's like the ultimate spoilt child. I got the impression that even if she'd been raised in a "normal" household, she would have still had the potential to go her own way, to look for something that would have given her the illusion of being special and superior. What her father did to her - and I'm not just talking about the brainwashing - was absolutely horrible, but you can't feel sympathy for her because, in her twisted mindset, she's made it into something else that puts her above others.

In any contest with Sorrow she is bound to lose. Amity shrugs. "How will He bring us a car?"
"A truck."
"What truck?" Amity has a bad feeling about this sign.
"A red truck. A faded truck."
"The man's truck? You can't just take his truck."
"God put it here for us."
"God gave the truck to the farmer. He won't just give it to us."
Sorrow reels Amity in by the end of the wrist strap. "God says the boy will take it for us, just as he took the food. God will make him."


What Sorrow really needs is firm parenting, right from the beginning, but that never really happened and this is the result. Needless to say, Sorrow's mother Amaranth is useless as a mother. She has no role models to emulate, and no education to help her think her way through things. She knows she's ineffective but that knowledge alone can't fix things. This is another theme that is touched upon in the book, that sometimes weak parenting without barriers is just as bad if not worse than no parenting at all.

"I hit her!" she calls to him. "I hit her." She gestures with the stick. "I've taught her. I've done it."
A dark row of spikes stands between them. "That what you people do?"
"She is willful. She has to learn."
He nods. "My pa used to beat the crap out of me. Didn't teach me nothin', 'cept he was a bully. Big man, hittin' a kid."
She squeezes the stick. "I don't know how else to reach her."


In contrast to Sorrow - who is really quite scary, in her brainwashing - Amity is young enough to have more of an open mind, and also her place in the cult wasn't anything like Sorrow's. She was a watcher, observing much but mostly keeping quiet; she also believes she can heal with her hands. Her naivete and ignorance is that of a child, so that what becomes frightening in Sorrow, a wilful, headstrong, selfish teenager, is mostly amusing or merely sad in Amity. She looks out for her sister, looks over her even, but has a task she is ill-equipped to know what to do with. Her ignorance puts her in a dangerous position and her mistakes are the direct result of her lack of parenting and the cult's over-zealous theology.

Amaranth isn't a hateful figure, for all of her mistakes and stupidity. I felt sorry for her much of the time, but also angry with her for how her daughters have turned out. What was most telling were her thoughts regarding her place in the polygamous cult. She is Zacharia's first wife, his only legally-recognised wife, but she has no special hold on him and doesn't seem to regard their lifestyle as a religious one. And at the end of the day, it's the women who are her family, the women whom she lives all her days with who mean so much more to her than her own husband. It's a poignant moment:

She had only ever wanted a family, to love and belong to, and she thought of the time when she had first arrived, when she saw he women there, women she didn't know and hadn't expected, and thought she was better than them because he'd married her. She thought with a start that she should have married them, not her husband. It was these women who stayed when her husband did not. It was these women who cared for her and loved her in her failing. Her husband didn't even know that she had had Eve and already she'd lost her. Her thumb picked at the oversized ring she wore, hers alone.


And of course, the novel spends a fair bit of energy on the state of religion in America, and the appeal of televangelists. Through Bradley's bed-ridden curmudgeon father, we get the voice of the tricks of the trade, breaking down the so-called spirituality of these preachers into a give-and-take commodity: giving the people what they want to hear in exchange for money. When Amaranth takes Sorrow and Amity to the nearby town, Sorrow is drawn to a local preacher of this type, who has styled his own young son into a prophet, and they have a show-down:

"Our work glorifies God," Sorrow bites back. "What works do you do - what gifts have you?"
"He has the gift of tongues!" a woman in a wheelchair calls.
"Then speak, Prophet," says Sorrow.
"You got nothing to prove, son," the man says, but the little boy screws his face up, throwing his head back and opening his mouth in a susurration of consonants, a string of long and sensuous vowels. A woman in a caftan falls to her knees, hands up to fondle heaven.
Sorrow flings her own head back then and roars her gift through clenched teeth. Where the boys words are silken, hers come as stabs. Where his slip along a slick path, hers are a switchback of barbs and hooks, grunts and clicks.
"Listen to that!" the man calls. "Will the grapes of our Lord be gathered from thorns?"
The woman in the caftan struggles to get back up, grabbing hold of the wheelchair arms. "That's the devil's talk!"
"It is not!" Sorrow protests.
"You're making it up," the boy says. "Yours is a bunch of noise."
Sorrow pokes the boy in the chest. "You're making yours up."
"You are!" The boy's face goes red. "You're only a girl!"
"And you're too little to make Jesus!"


It is these scenes (scenes I've quoted here) that hit hardest, that carry the most weight and make the most impact. They aren't subtle, but they are effective. I like subtlety when tackling these kinds of issues, but I must admit to being entertained by them nonetheless - especially when, as in the quote above, I hear a little bit of Monty Python coming through.

There is much to like and admire in Amity & Sorrow, though it's not a novel that I'd say you would "enjoy", it's ultimately too sad and tragic for that. The issues it deals with are just too heavy of heart. And I know for sure that I would have been able to immerse myself better in this story had I read a physical copy rather than an e-book - that's just the kind of reader I am. But even had I read it in hard copy, I still would have been left feeling rather disappointed. The novel lacks oomph, it lacks subtlety, and it lacks the kind of characters - even one - that you can really connect with. I felt that Amaranth was meant to be that character, but you never quite get below the surface with her. The book is not just short, it's a bit too short. It wanted to take on so many big issues, that it lost its heart. For what is at the heart of this story, really? It's no one character, no one issue or theme. It's a broad, overall picture that skims over its characters depths to paint their surface and not much else. As interested as I am in the topics it touches upon, and as interested as I was in the characters it introduced to me, it never quite achieved heart. And that was a real let-down for me.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> 3.15 2013 Amity & Sorrow
author: Peggy Riley
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.15
book published: 2013
rating: 3
read at: 2013/05/12
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, netgalley, e-book, fiction, 2013, cover-love, cults
review:
After many years, Amaranth has run from the polygamous commune she married into. It is the only world she's known, since her earlier life was one of no family and poverty, which ended the day she married wandering preacher Zachariah. The polygamy came later, as did Zachariah's increasingly rabid pronunciations of the coming of the end of the world - aided by Amaranth's own oldest daughter, Sorrow, who has become her father's assistant, acting as a Seer to his Prophet.

Now, after a showdown with local police who were more worried than anything else that ended in their temple burning, Amaranth took the opportunity to flee. Taking one of their many cars, the boot loaded with provisions she's been hiding away, she drives for four days across the country, with her two daughters, Amity and Sorrow, sitting in the backseat. After Sorrow's first attempt to escape when they stopped for fuel, Amaranth tied her daughters together at the wrist with a strap. But driving without sleep takes its toll, and in the middle of nowhere, Amaranth crashes into a stump, flipping the car onto its roof.

There is help at hand, of a sort: they are by an old shop and petrol pump that belong to a farmer called Bradley. His wife has left him and he has only an adopted teenaged son nicknamed Dust to help him on the farm. In this corner of Oklahoma - the dusty panhandle to Oklahoma's frying pan - there's little money to be made off the farm which is being squeezed by the companies selling the seed, and aside from letting the strange trio sleep on his porch, Bradley has little interest in helping them.

Amaranth was initially certain that Zacharia was following them, hunting them, livid with rage and determined to drag them back. But as the days go by and he never appears, she turns her attention to Bradley and the run-down house. Meanwhile, her daughters - aged fifteen and twelve - are caught in a strange new world where the rules they have always lived by are being discarded and everything they once understood about the world is being threatened by a new reality. Amity, younger and more flexible of mind, tries to incorporate the new world into her previous understanding, but Sorrow remains fixed in her belief of her father's claims, and will not be shaken. She is determined to get home to him and in her skewed reality, it matters not who is harmed along the way.

Amity & Sorrow is a fairly short novel and simple in its structure and its story; yet for all that it focuses its energy on some big key themes and explores them deftly without falling too heavily into the tides of melodrama - yet it becomes somewhat side-tracked by these issues at the detriment of its characters. The story could certainly have gone many ways, and one of the reasons why I've given as detailed a summary as I have, is because I felt a bit lost going into this - I wasn't even sure of the time period, at first, or where it was going. Sometimes this is ideal, preferred even, but other times it helps to know something of the story first.

But as I said, this is a story of themes rather than action, a story of human nature rather than a story of a life's journey. It takes on some key themes that are something of a preoccupation in America: fervent, zealous religion and a belief in televangalists and the end of the world; and the sorry state of agriculture - which ties into the end-of-the-world frenzy, the idea that everything's going to shit. Bradley, the farmer, lends his voice to this theme, giving voice to the paradox of large scale farming and the problems that arise when the seed companies - and the stock market and government policy - dictate what he can and can't grow.

"I got acres of rape out there and I don't know what I'm doin'. We was always wheat here but the price drops and someone says they want rapeseed oil, so you buy it and you plant it and then they call in a loan. You plant soybean, then sorghum, and you keep settin' your share, diggin' deep, diggin' broad, puttin' in things you never grew before 'cause they say someone'll buy 'em. And everythin' you grow you sell and put back into seeds, 'cause they won't let you save seeds anymore. And then you have to spray and you have to buy their spray. And then out of the blue, folks want organic, but your seeds and spray ain't green and if you don't spray you'll only harvest cheatgrass and shattercane. And then they tell you to plant corn for ethanol when that's what all the rape was for. [...] When all of this was dust once. And before that it was buffalo grass and they made it worse, men like my pa, settin' their shares too deep. Wantin' too much. Turning everythin' over 'til nothing would grow. [...] Hell, anything growin' here is a miracle."


The landscape of this part of Oklahoma is a tangible, vivid one, as is the sense of isolation and poverty. It's in the small details but also captured effortlessly in Bradley himself, who typifies the situation in the way he speaks, the life he's lived, his attempts to keep going and not give in, though he knows full well that farming's a joke when the soil's bereft of nutrients and there's barely any rain. He's trying to make a living off a new kind of desert, and that makes a certain kind of man.

Tied into this is, of course, the much larger theme around religion in America. Zacharia's polygamist cult consisted of fifty wives by the time Amaranth leaves, and while many of them are brought back by her husband at the end of his summer preaching travels, others arrive of their own accord, having met him and learned about the commune as a place they can escape their old lives to, a place of basics and a simple life far removed from terrorist attacks, drugs and all the other problems that come with living our hectic contemporary lifestyle. This will resonate easily with Riley's readers, giving Zacharia's cult believability - and from there it's not such a huge step to understand how people can buy into his fervent spiels about God and the coming apocalypse, especially as these women have all seen (or are all thinking about) the worst side of humanity.

Where the cult becomes scary is when the madness takes over, when the things Zachariah says lose all semblance of reason, and, most especially, with Sorrow. She's at that age where teens are caught up in their hormones, carving out a place for themselves and trying to figure out their identities. Sorrow believes everything her father says and more, she has created a God that no one outside her would recognise, and she makes the rules up as she goes without even realising it, all to satisfy whatever aim or desire she has. She's like the ultimate spoilt child. I got the impression that even if she'd been raised in a "normal" household, she would have still had the potential to go her own way, to look for something that would have given her the illusion of being special and superior. What her father did to her - and I'm not just talking about the brainwashing - was absolutely horrible, but you can't feel sympathy for her because, in her twisted mindset, she's made it into something else that puts her above others.

In any contest with Sorrow she is bound to lose. Amity shrugs. "How will He bring us a car?"
"A truck."
"What truck?" Amity has a bad feeling about this sign.
"A red truck. A faded truck."
"The man's truck? You can't just take his truck."
"God put it here for us."
"God gave the truck to the farmer. He won't just give it to us."
Sorrow reels Amity in by the end of the wrist strap. "God says the boy will take it for us, just as he took the food. God will make him."


What Sorrow really needs is firm parenting, right from the beginning, but that never really happened and this is the result. Needless to say, Sorrow's mother Amaranth is useless as a mother. She has no role models to emulate, and no education to help her think her way through things. She knows she's ineffective but that knowledge alone can't fix things. This is another theme that is touched upon in the book, that sometimes weak parenting without barriers is just as bad if not worse than no parenting at all.

"I hit her!" she calls to him. "I hit her." She gestures with the stick. "I've taught her. I've done it."
A dark row of spikes stands between them. "That what you people do?"
"She is willful. She has to learn."
He nods. "My pa used to beat the crap out of me. Didn't teach me nothin', 'cept he was a bully. Big man, hittin' a kid."
She squeezes the stick. "I don't know how else to reach her."


In contrast to Sorrow - who is really quite scary, in her brainwashing - Amity is young enough to have more of an open mind, and also her place in the cult wasn't anything like Sorrow's. She was a watcher, observing much but mostly keeping quiet; she also believes she can heal with her hands. Her naivete and ignorance is that of a child, so that what becomes frightening in Sorrow, a wilful, headstrong, selfish teenager, is mostly amusing or merely sad in Amity. She looks out for her sister, looks over her even, but has a task she is ill-equipped to know what to do with. Her ignorance puts her in a dangerous position and her mistakes are the direct result of her lack of parenting and the cult's over-zealous theology.

Amaranth isn't a hateful figure, for all of her mistakes and stupidity. I felt sorry for her much of the time, but also angry with her for how her daughters have turned out. What was most telling were her thoughts regarding her place in the polygamous cult. She is Zacharia's first wife, his only legally-recognised wife, but she has no special hold on him and doesn't seem to regard their lifestyle as a religious one. And at the end of the day, it's the women who are her family, the women whom she lives all her days with who mean so much more to her than her own husband. It's a poignant moment:

She had only ever wanted a family, to love and belong to, and she thought of the time when she had first arrived, when she saw he women there, women she didn't know and hadn't expected, and thought she was better than them because he'd married her. She thought with a start that she should have married them, not her husband. It was these women who stayed when her husband did not. It was these women who cared for her and loved her in her failing. Her husband didn't even know that she had had Eve and already she'd lost her. Her thumb picked at the oversized ring she wore, hers alone.


And of course, the novel spends a fair bit of energy on the state of religion in America, and the appeal of televangelists. Through Bradley's bed-ridden curmudgeon father, we get the voice of the tricks of the trade, breaking down the so-called spirituality of these preachers into a give-and-take commodity: giving the people what they want to hear in exchange for money. When Amaranth takes Sorrow and Amity to the nearby town, Sorrow is drawn to a local preacher of this type, who has styled his own young son into a prophet, and they have a show-down:

"Our work glorifies God," Sorrow bites back. "What works do you do - what gifts have you?"
"He has the gift of tongues!" a woman in a wheelchair calls.
"Then speak, Prophet," says Sorrow.
"You got nothing to prove, son," the man says, but the little boy screws his face up, throwing his head back and opening his mouth in a susurration of consonants, a string of long and sensuous vowels. A woman in a caftan falls to her knees, hands up to fondle heaven.
Sorrow flings her own head back then and roars her gift through clenched teeth. Where the boys words are silken, hers come as stabs. Where his slip along a slick path, hers are a switchback of barbs and hooks, grunts and clicks.
"Listen to that!" the man calls. "Will the grapes of our Lord be gathered from thorns?"
The woman in the caftan struggles to get back up, grabbing hold of the wheelchair arms. "That's the devil's talk!"
"It is not!" Sorrow protests.
"You're making it up," the boy says. "Yours is a bunch of noise."
Sorrow pokes the boy in the chest. "You're making yours up."
"You are!" The boy's face goes red. "You're only a girl!"
"And you're too little to make Jesus!"


It is these scenes (scenes I've quoted here) that hit hardest, that carry the most weight and make the most impact. They aren't subtle, but they are effective. I like subtlety when tackling these kinds of issues, but I must admit to being entertained by them nonetheless - especially when, as in the quote above, I hear a little bit of Monty Python coming through.

There is much to like and admire in Amity & Sorrow, though it's not a novel that I'd say you would "enjoy", it's ultimately too sad and tragic for that. The issues it deals with are just too heavy of heart. And I know for sure that I would have been able to immerse myself better in this story had I read a physical copy rather than an e-book - that's just the kind of reader I am. But even had I read it in hard copy, I still would have been left feeling rather disappointed. The novel lacks oomph, it lacks subtlety, and it lacks the kind of characters - even one - that you can really connect with. I felt that Amaranth was meant to be that character, but you never quite get below the surface with her. The book is not just short, it's a bit too short. It wanted to take on so many big issues, that it lost its heart. For what is at the heart of this story, really? It's no one character, no one issue or theme. It's a broad, overall picture that skims over its characters depths to paint their surface and not much else. As interested as I am in the topics it touches upon, and as interested as I was in the characters it introduced to me, it never quite achieved heart. And that was a real let-down for me.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.

]]> <![CDATA[Confessions of an Almost-Girlfriend (Confessions, #2)]]> 15742858
...but if she’s not careful, she’s also going to be the sister who misses the signals, the daughter who can only think about her own pain, the “good girl” who finds herself in mid-scandal again (because no good deed goes unpunished) and possibly worst of all...the almost-girlfriend.

When all else fails, stop looking for love and go find yourself.]]> 279 Louise Rozett 0373210655 Shannon 5
That's when Jamie Forta arrives, just in time to help Rose out of the pool. She hasn't seen him since the end of the last school year and has no idea what he's been doing over the summer or where they stand or what he is to her. Is he even her friend still? He still seems awfully close to Regina, the girl who made Rose's life hell last year, and it turns out that Conrad is Regina's younger brother - Conrad who is, he tells Rose and her best friend Tracy, actually gay, and one very angry boy who's taking out his feelings of anger and impotence on everyone around him (he also hates Rose because Jamie likes her).

Anger is in the air it seems. Only Tracy is handling adolescence well, and turning some petty bullying into something positive: her own fashion website where she profiles the looks of her peers. Suddenly Tracy is someone everyone wants to be friends with, while Rose can only think: how come she's never taken a photo of me? At home things haven't improved much: Rose is still attending counselling with her mother, who wants Rose to take down the memorial website she created in honour of her father, who died in a roadside bomb in Iraq where he was working as an engineer. Her brother, Peter, is clearly doing more drugs at uni than studying, and it's no surprise to Rose when he's kicked out and arrives home to face the wrath of their mother.

But this year Rose is determined to take control of her life in whatever way she can, and that means trying out for the school musical - or maybe even a friend's band, as lead singer. It certainly gives her a chance to channel her inner angst, all her anger at everything she can't control in her life: her dad's death, her problems with her mother and brother, the elusive Jamie Forta, and all the crap that comes with being a teenager. Rose is still angry, but she's looking for an outlet, and she's also learning how to stand up for herself when it comes to Jamie, who's still dicking around with her feelings, going hot and cold on her, and making her choose between doing the right thing by him or the right thing by her worst enemy. Grade ten is going to be one messy year.

All the things I said in my review of the first book, , is just as true for this sequel. Rozett has created, with Rose, a truly distinct, relatable, identifiable heroine who is wading through adolescence in a realistic urban American high school setting and trying to deal with everything that involves. I may not have had the same high school experiences as Rose, but I had similar ones, and there's something universal about being a white middle class teenager in a western country that makes it easy to relate and identify with Rose and her experiences.

Rose is on a noticeable character-development arc, and she's not the same girl she was in grade 9. She's already grown up since then and finding some of her inner strength. She loses her starry-eyed perspective of Jamie, for one, and that was deeply satisfying. I like Jamie, as a character and a love interest for Rose, but he too is a teenager and he's been through some crap of his own. He's far from the perfect, gentlemanly boys the heroines of so many YA books fall in love with. He's a flawed character, as is Rose, and has a lot of growing up to do himself. He does shitty things, and this time Rose calls him on it. She learns how to tease him, how to express herself better, and she faces head-on her own limits: how far would she go with Jamie?

The mess of Rose's personal life is set against a backdrop of bullying and homophobia that is depressingly relevant today. This certainly isn't the first YA book or series to tackle these issues, but the way Rozett presents them and handles them is refreshing: they're not the point of the story, rather they're ever-present alongside the school lockers and the cat-fights and the homework assignments. It's the way Rose views the world around her and her seemingly callous dithering over whether to intervene or tell the truth about something she's witnessed. This, too, makes her a very realistic teenager. Telling the truth about what happened to Conrad at the party before school started, for instance, isn't a black-and-white matter. After what happened the year before, when Rose called 911 after a girl needed medical attention at a party where there was a lot of underage drinking going on, she's learned the consequences of "ratting" on her peers the hard way, and she's also learned that sometimes its important for the person being bullied or abused etc., to make that stand themselves, that you can't do it for them.

What I'm trying to say is that, Rozett doesn't moralise or try to slip in messages for "right" behaviour or even pretend that these things don't happen, because they very much do. I love that Rozett doesn't shy away from the worst of teenage behaviour, and I appreciate that she isn't trying to under-handedly moralise, which is something I've come across in other YA novels. In fact, she doesn't even need to. Simply creating Rose, a character I'm sure many teens will be able to identify with, and showing her own conflicts and her struggles in deciding what is the right thing to do - which isn't always as obvious as adults like to think it is - is enough. Show, don't tell. Nothing could be more true of teenagers, surely; nothing can get their back up more than being told how to behave etc. But they still look for guidance, reassurance, support, in their own way. And this is the kind of series to offer that.

What was funny - in an ironic way - for me was how much anger I felt while reading this. I felt furious at Rose's mum for the way she's handling her relationship with her daughter, and the joint therapy sessions they have with her mother's therapist, and how completely ineffective she is at expressing her own true feelings - you can't fault Rose for not being honest with her about her own feelings in turn. I felt anger at the injustice of the stupid "slut list", and all the forms of bullying that go on. I felt anger at Jamie for being a dick, and for being quite lovely when he wants to be, and for what happens at the end of the book. But I also felt unbearably sad - sad for Regina and Conrad, sad for Jamie, sad for Rose who's mourning her father yet feels that she's not allowed to grieve anymore, that, what, she should have moved on? It made me angry all over again.

In part, that's intense emotional connection is what makes this book really work. That and the gritty realism. These characters - not just Rose and Jamie but the supporting characters as well - are true-to-life, flawed human beings. They make mistakes. They struggle to express themselves. They can make bad situations worse. They lash out at each other. But such is Rozett's skill at depicting these people and giving them room to breathe and grow and be, you also see all their good points, their vulnerabilities, their strengths, their pain and their sense of honour. I liked this even more than the first book: the story only gets stronger and the adolescent stakes higher, as Rose continues to grow up and figure out who she is and what she wants out of life. This is YA fiction at its best.

Also, COVER LOVE! ;)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> 3.90 2013 Confessions of an Almost-Girlfriend (Confessions, #2)
author: Louise Rozett
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.90
book published: 2013
rating: 5
read at: 2013/05/25
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, e-book, netgalley, ya, fiction, angst, cover-love, 2013, coming-of-age
review:
Rose Zarelli begins grade ten with a pool party that sets the tone for the year to come. The swim team - or "swim thugs" as everyone calls them - are initiating a new member, a trendily-dressed boy called Conrad, by throwing cups of beer at his face until he falls into the swimming pool while the boys yell homophobic insults at him, and blasting water from a hose into his mouth until he chokes. When Conrad is pushed into the pool he lets himself sink and isn't coming back up; only Rose seems to even notice, but when she leans over the edge to check on him she's pushed in too.

That's when Jamie Forta arrives, just in time to help Rose out of the pool. She hasn't seen him since the end of the last school year and has no idea what he's been doing over the summer or where they stand or what he is to her. Is he even her friend still? He still seems awfully close to Regina, the girl who made Rose's life hell last year, and it turns out that Conrad is Regina's younger brother - Conrad who is, he tells Rose and her best friend Tracy, actually gay, and one very angry boy who's taking out his feelings of anger and impotence on everyone around him (he also hates Rose because Jamie likes her).

Anger is in the air it seems. Only Tracy is handling adolescence well, and turning some petty bullying into something positive: her own fashion website where she profiles the looks of her peers. Suddenly Tracy is someone everyone wants to be friends with, while Rose can only think: how come she's never taken a photo of me? At home things haven't improved much: Rose is still attending counselling with her mother, who wants Rose to take down the memorial website she created in honour of her father, who died in a roadside bomb in Iraq where he was working as an engineer. Her brother, Peter, is clearly doing more drugs at uni than studying, and it's no surprise to Rose when he's kicked out and arrives home to face the wrath of their mother.

But this year Rose is determined to take control of her life in whatever way she can, and that means trying out for the school musical - or maybe even a friend's band, as lead singer. It certainly gives her a chance to channel her inner angst, all her anger at everything she can't control in her life: her dad's death, her problems with her mother and brother, the elusive Jamie Forta, and all the crap that comes with being a teenager. Rose is still angry, but she's looking for an outlet, and she's also learning how to stand up for herself when it comes to Jamie, who's still dicking around with her feelings, going hot and cold on her, and making her choose between doing the right thing by him or the right thing by her worst enemy. Grade ten is going to be one messy year.

All the things I said in my review of the first book, , is just as true for this sequel. Rozett has created, with Rose, a truly distinct, relatable, identifiable heroine who is wading through adolescence in a realistic urban American high school setting and trying to deal with everything that involves. I may not have had the same high school experiences as Rose, but I had similar ones, and there's something universal about being a white middle class teenager in a western country that makes it easy to relate and identify with Rose and her experiences.

Rose is on a noticeable character-development arc, and she's not the same girl she was in grade 9. She's already grown up since then and finding some of her inner strength. She loses her starry-eyed perspective of Jamie, for one, and that was deeply satisfying. I like Jamie, as a character and a love interest for Rose, but he too is a teenager and he's been through some crap of his own. He's far from the perfect, gentlemanly boys the heroines of so many YA books fall in love with. He's a flawed character, as is Rose, and has a lot of growing up to do himself. He does shitty things, and this time Rose calls him on it. She learns how to tease him, how to express herself better, and she faces head-on her own limits: how far would she go with Jamie?

The mess of Rose's personal life is set against a backdrop of bullying and homophobia that is depressingly relevant today. This certainly isn't the first YA book or series to tackle these issues, but the way Rozett presents them and handles them is refreshing: they're not the point of the story, rather they're ever-present alongside the school lockers and the cat-fights and the homework assignments. It's the way Rose views the world around her and her seemingly callous dithering over whether to intervene or tell the truth about something she's witnessed. This, too, makes her a very realistic teenager. Telling the truth about what happened to Conrad at the party before school started, for instance, isn't a black-and-white matter. After what happened the year before, when Rose called 911 after a girl needed medical attention at a party where there was a lot of underage drinking going on, she's learned the consequences of "ratting" on her peers the hard way, and she's also learned that sometimes its important for the person being bullied or abused etc., to make that stand themselves, that you can't do it for them.

What I'm trying to say is that, Rozett doesn't moralise or try to slip in messages for "right" behaviour or even pretend that these things don't happen, because they very much do. I love that Rozett doesn't shy away from the worst of teenage behaviour, and I appreciate that she isn't trying to under-handedly moralise, which is something I've come across in other YA novels. In fact, she doesn't even need to. Simply creating Rose, a character I'm sure many teens will be able to identify with, and showing her own conflicts and her struggles in deciding what is the right thing to do - which isn't always as obvious as adults like to think it is - is enough. Show, don't tell. Nothing could be more true of teenagers, surely; nothing can get their back up more than being told how to behave etc. But they still look for guidance, reassurance, support, in their own way. And this is the kind of series to offer that.

What was funny - in an ironic way - for me was how much anger I felt while reading this. I felt furious at Rose's mum for the way she's handling her relationship with her daughter, and the joint therapy sessions they have with her mother's therapist, and how completely ineffective she is at expressing her own true feelings - you can't fault Rose for not being honest with her about her own feelings in turn. I felt anger at the injustice of the stupid "slut list", and all the forms of bullying that go on. I felt anger at Jamie for being a dick, and for being quite lovely when he wants to be, and for what happens at the end of the book. But I also felt unbearably sad - sad for Regina and Conrad, sad for Jamie, sad for Rose who's mourning her father yet feels that she's not allowed to grieve anymore, that, what, she should have moved on? It made me angry all over again.

In part, that's intense emotional connection is what makes this book really work. That and the gritty realism. These characters - not just Rose and Jamie but the supporting characters as well - are true-to-life, flawed human beings. They make mistakes. They struggle to express themselves. They can make bad situations worse. They lash out at each other. But such is Rozett's skill at depicting these people and giving them room to breathe and grow and be, you also see all their good points, their vulnerabilities, their strengths, their pain and their sense of honour. I liked this even more than the first book: the story only gets stronger and the adolescent stakes higher, as Rose continues to grow up and figure out who she is and what she wants out of life. This is YA fiction at its best.

Also, COVER LOVE! ;)

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.

]]> Under Budapest 17060546
There’s Agnes and Tibor, mother and son, travelling to Hungary for reasons they keep to themselves, he to recover from a disastrous love affair, she to search for a sister gone missing during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. There’s Janos, a self-styled player and petty thug, who schemes to make it rich in post-communist Hungary. And there’s Gyula and Zsofi, caught up in a revolution that will change the face of Hungary forever. Their lives are all connected by a conflagration of events: the legacy of wartime violence, past allegiances, long-buried rivalries, and secrets from the past.

Through riveting narratives that spring back and forth through time, Under Budapest captures the drama and ravages of the Hungarian Revolution and the eras that followed. A dark ode to memory, Kay’s intimate spectacle demonstrates that actions have consequences, that the past cannot be shaken, that all events can carry the possibility of repercussion.]]> 260 Ailsa Kay 0864926812 Shannon 4 Under Budapest, connecting the stories of Tibor, an academic who specialises in Hungarian history, and his mother, Agnes, a Hungarian who fled the revolution of 1956 for the safety of Canada, with the mysterious disappearance of Agnes' teenaged sister, Zsofi, during the Soviet retaliation all those years ago.

In 2010, a young Canadian-Hungarian man, Janos Hagy, navigates Budapest's streets with his less intelligent friend, Csaba, preying on begging gypsies, scoring dope and looking for a party. What Janos finds instead is nothing short of an end to all his scheming dreams.

In Toronto, Tibor tries to shake himself out of the funk he found himself in after the break-up of his affair with a married woman, Rafaela, by accepting a place as speaker at a conference in Budapest. When his mother, Agnes, hears of his new travel plans, she decides to go too. In her old age, this could be the last chance she has of finding out what happened to her sister Zsofi in 1956, after the last time she saw ever saw her. Having just met another Hungarian immigrant who claims she escaped the underground prison tunnels with Tsofia and another woman, with the help of a guard, Agnes now has reason to hope that her sister survived the revolution.

Instead of finding distraction from his relationship blues, Tibor finds a decapitated head on Gellert Hill, and having overheard the voices of the murderers, finds himself becoming implicated in the crime. And instead of finding her sister, Agnes finds a way to put the demons of the past to rest, including her own guilt over leaving her sister with Agnes' lover and fiancé, Gyula, a student leader in the revolution who excels at the art of lying.

Their stories weave together and culminate in the mythologised underground tunnels, for beneath Budapest lies all Hungary's secrets, it seems: all the things - and people - that it wants to keep hidden away, buried beneath layers of forgotten history.

Long before the revolution of October 1956, the rumours were that the Soviets were tunnelling. Their tunnels spread with the speed of rhizomes, under the surface of Budapest. The rumours spread the same way, sprouting and multiplying, their source untraceable.

When the revolutionaries stormed the Communist Party Headquarters in Koztarsasag Ter on October 30, they found half-cooked palascinta - far more than would be required to feed the number of prisoners found in the building's cellar prisons. Frantic, searchers fanned out into every dank hallway, looking for secret doors, knocking index knuckles on walls that looked solid, testing for hollow. There were so few prisoners in the building. Where were the hundreds who'd vanished? Someone had heard shouting from below. Someone else had heard a number: one hundred and forty prisoners. Where were they? They had no food, no water. Time was running out. [p.55]


It was interesting - and, I think, reassuring - to read that Ailsa Kay, a Canadian, fell in love with Budapest when she lived there several years ago, because reading this book gives me little urge to visit the country. Kay's Budapest is a bleak, grotty place, free of its Soviet reins but still in survival mode, a place of corrupt police and suspicion, of wild parties late at night in abandoned apartment buildings where the wealthy once lived but are which now ready to be torn down - if only the government had the money to tear them down. From the opening chapter, in which Janos and Csaba encounter a frail gypsy man and a young gypsy boy in a cold and wet underpass and Csaba proceeds to kick and punch the man to death, we get a vivid and heart-breaking look into the underbelly of this city. It is a scene that sets the tone and atmosphere for the entire novel, making the murder Tibor witnesses almost ordinary in this context.

And it does all tie together. In this city, with its powerful criminal underworld and its derelict, abandoned neighbourhoods, the sense of threat and danger lurks around every corner. When Agnes goes out on her own to try and find the tunnel exits she learned about from the woman who said she escaped with Agnes's sister, she gets caught up in a march, a large group of black-clad fascists - people who consider themselves to be true Magyars, or ethnic Hungarians - calling for "Hungary for Hungarians". 2010 was the year of the election that saw Jobbik gain a surprising footing in parliament. Their name means "very right" and "the best" and their campaign carried explicit anti-Roma (gypsy) and anti-Semitic sentiments; they are closely linked to the Magyar Garda - the group of marchers Agnes runs into in the novel, who are quasi-military. Csaba, the violent youth who kills a homeless Roma, likes to think he is one of them. Hungary is fast becoming openly racist and anti-Semitic, which creates an atmosphere that puts Agnes in mind of WWII - she calls the marchers the "Arrow Cross", which was a Nazi group set up by the German Nazis in the 40s. With such open hostility towards Others, it is no wonder that the Budapest of Kay's novel is brimming with tension, suspicion, fear, mistrust and outright danger. It is also winter, and far from the days of sunshine and warmth.

For a relatively short novel, Kay manages to achieve a great deal. Her characters have unique and distinctive voices, each transporting you to a different mindset as much as a different place in the story. Janos, staying with his grandmother on this trip to Budapest, is a self-styled schemer and fancies himself something of an entrepreneur-in-the-making, an ideas man. He's bright enough to have ideas and to see a bit farther than his scary friend Csaba, but not so bright that he can't see when he's being played. Tibor is a more subtle character, a man whose always cast himself in his friend Daniel's larger shadow - perhaps this is what prompted him to pursue an affair with Daniel's wife. He's an ordinary man, a man you would call "good" and yet, when he finds himself the sole witness to a crime, he is reluctant to go to the police or give peace-of-mind to the victim's family. He is impatient and embarrassed by his mother, but he is loving and loyal. Yes, an ordinary man, someone easy to relate to precisely because he has such everyday flaws.

Agnes is a woman who has refused to share her own knowledge, experience and insights of Hungary with her son, which, he thinks, is maybe what led him to specialise in Hungarian history. But her silence carries the weight of guilt and self-recrimination; her memories are painful ones. She's a level-headed woman, brave enough to flee Hungary while her sister and fiancé were brave enough to stay and fight for their country - two different kinds of bravery that weren't compatible with each other. When we go back in time to those heady days of revolution in 1956 and watch it play out, the Budapest of the past isn't all that different from the one we get to know in 2010 - the time in-between seems to vanish. They are markedly different, and the nostalgia permeates Agnes's scenes in the present, but perhaps because these European countries ruled by the Soviets were in effect stuck in a time warp, with minimal progress, the intervening years have no presence.

"Get my suitcase. You cannot go to the National Police. Why should you? Did you ask to be a witness?"
"Mom, stop."
"Did you know this boy? He's probably a drug dealer. An addict. A waste. And now he's dead, okay? Why do you have to risk your life? No, Tibor. It's time to go. And don't talk to anyone. Don't speak to anyone."
"Mom. It's not 1956."
"Yes, it is." She turns on him. "It is. It is always 1956. People do terrible things. You think they won't, but they do. They spy and they lie, and they will tie a man by his ankles and they will light him on fire and they will watch as he burns. They will watch. Why don't you listen to me, Tibor? You never listen to me." [pp.132-3]


While Under Budapest may seem like a criminal thriller of a novel, it has no tidy ending, no tying up of loose ends or an arrested mob boss at the end. It isn't a story about crime so much as a story about people, humans caught in the trap of their memories, in their own madness, in their own lies and guilt and pain. It is a story of human flaws as much as it is a story of moving beyond them to do an act of good. It is a story about the past and how it has a tight hold on Hungary's present, no matter how far away the people emigrate. It is a story of the mysteries beneath Budapest, secrets that the people hold onto out of hope as much as fear, because when your loved one goes missing, is arrested and vanishes, it's better to believe they are locked up under Budapest than dead and discarded.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 3.82 2013 Under Budapest
author: Ailsa Kay
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.82
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/05/10
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, fiction, 2013, historical-fiction
review:
For decades Hungary endured Soviet-imposed communism and the internment or executions of political activists and anyone else who dared to speak up. Rumour created an extensive underground tunnel and prison system beneath Budapest, and even though proof of its existence has never been found, the legend lives on. It is these tunnels that link the dual narratives in Under Budapest, connecting the stories of Tibor, an academic who specialises in Hungarian history, and his mother, Agnes, a Hungarian who fled the revolution of 1956 for the safety of Canada, with the mysterious disappearance of Agnes' teenaged sister, Zsofi, during the Soviet retaliation all those years ago.

In 2010, a young Canadian-Hungarian man, Janos Hagy, navigates Budapest's streets with his less intelligent friend, Csaba, preying on begging gypsies, scoring dope and looking for a party. What Janos finds instead is nothing short of an end to all his scheming dreams.

In Toronto, Tibor tries to shake himself out of the funk he found himself in after the break-up of his affair with a married woman, Rafaela, by accepting a place as speaker at a conference in Budapest. When his mother, Agnes, hears of his new travel plans, she decides to go too. In her old age, this could be the last chance she has of finding out what happened to her sister Zsofi in 1956, after the last time she saw ever saw her. Having just met another Hungarian immigrant who claims she escaped the underground prison tunnels with Tsofia and another woman, with the help of a guard, Agnes now has reason to hope that her sister survived the revolution.

Instead of finding distraction from his relationship blues, Tibor finds a decapitated head on Gellert Hill, and having overheard the voices of the murderers, finds himself becoming implicated in the crime. And instead of finding her sister, Agnes finds a way to put the demons of the past to rest, including her own guilt over leaving her sister with Agnes' lover and fiancé, Gyula, a student leader in the revolution who excels at the art of lying.

Their stories weave together and culminate in the mythologised underground tunnels, for beneath Budapest lies all Hungary's secrets, it seems: all the things - and people - that it wants to keep hidden away, buried beneath layers of forgotten history.

Long before the revolution of October 1956, the rumours were that the Soviets were tunnelling. Their tunnels spread with the speed of rhizomes, under the surface of Budapest. The rumours spread the same way, sprouting and multiplying, their source untraceable.

When the revolutionaries stormed the Communist Party Headquarters in Koztarsasag Ter on October 30, they found half-cooked palascinta - far more than would be required to feed the number of prisoners found in the building's cellar prisons. Frantic, searchers fanned out into every dank hallway, looking for secret doors, knocking index knuckles on walls that looked solid, testing for hollow. There were so few prisoners in the building. Where were the hundreds who'd vanished? Someone had heard shouting from below. Someone else had heard a number: one hundred and forty prisoners. Where were they? They had no food, no water. Time was running out. [p.55]


It was interesting - and, I think, reassuring - to read that Ailsa Kay, a Canadian, fell in love with Budapest when she lived there several years ago, because reading this book gives me little urge to visit the country. Kay's Budapest is a bleak, grotty place, free of its Soviet reins but still in survival mode, a place of corrupt police and suspicion, of wild parties late at night in abandoned apartment buildings where the wealthy once lived but are which now ready to be torn down - if only the government had the money to tear them down. From the opening chapter, in which Janos and Csaba encounter a frail gypsy man and a young gypsy boy in a cold and wet underpass and Csaba proceeds to kick and punch the man to death, we get a vivid and heart-breaking look into the underbelly of this city. It is a scene that sets the tone and atmosphere for the entire novel, making the murder Tibor witnesses almost ordinary in this context.

And it does all tie together. In this city, with its powerful criminal underworld and its derelict, abandoned neighbourhoods, the sense of threat and danger lurks around every corner. When Agnes goes out on her own to try and find the tunnel exits she learned about from the woman who said she escaped with Agnes's sister, she gets caught up in a march, a large group of black-clad fascists - people who consider themselves to be true Magyars, or ethnic Hungarians - calling for "Hungary for Hungarians". 2010 was the year of the election that saw Jobbik gain a surprising footing in parliament. Their name means "very right" and "the best" and their campaign carried explicit anti-Roma (gypsy) and anti-Semitic sentiments; they are closely linked to the Magyar Garda - the group of marchers Agnes runs into in the novel, who are quasi-military. Csaba, the violent youth who kills a homeless Roma, likes to think he is one of them. Hungary is fast becoming openly racist and anti-Semitic, which creates an atmosphere that puts Agnes in mind of WWII - she calls the marchers the "Arrow Cross", which was a Nazi group set up by the German Nazis in the 40s. With such open hostility towards Others, it is no wonder that the Budapest of Kay's novel is brimming with tension, suspicion, fear, mistrust and outright danger. It is also winter, and far from the days of sunshine and warmth.

For a relatively short novel, Kay manages to achieve a great deal. Her characters have unique and distinctive voices, each transporting you to a different mindset as much as a different place in the story. Janos, staying with his grandmother on this trip to Budapest, is a self-styled schemer and fancies himself something of an entrepreneur-in-the-making, an ideas man. He's bright enough to have ideas and to see a bit farther than his scary friend Csaba, but not so bright that he can't see when he's being played. Tibor is a more subtle character, a man whose always cast himself in his friend Daniel's larger shadow - perhaps this is what prompted him to pursue an affair with Daniel's wife. He's an ordinary man, a man you would call "good" and yet, when he finds himself the sole witness to a crime, he is reluctant to go to the police or give peace-of-mind to the victim's family. He is impatient and embarrassed by his mother, but he is loving and loyal. Yes, an ordinary man, someone easy to relate to precisely because he has such everyday flaws.

Agnes is a woman who has refused to share her own knowledge, experience and insights of Hungary with her son, which, he thinks, is maybe what led him to specialise in Hungarian history. But her silence carries the weight of guilt and self-recrimination; her memories are painful ones. She's a level-headed woman, brave enough to flee Hungary while her sister and fiancé were brave enough to stay and fight for their country - two different kinds of bravery that weren't compatible with each other. When we go back in time to those heady days of revolution in 1956 and watch it play out, the Budapest of the past isn't all that different from the one we get to know in 2010 - the time in-between seems to vanish. They are markedly different, and the nostalgia permeates Agnes's scenes in the present, but perhaps because these European countries ruled by the Soviets were in effect stuck in a time warp, with minimal progress, the intervening years have no presence.

"Get my suitcase. You cannot go to the National Police. Why should you? Did you ask to be a witness?"
"Mom, stop."
"Did you know this boy? He's probably a drug dealer. An addict. A waste. And now he's dead, okay? Why do you have to risk your life? No, Tibor. It's time to go. And don't talk to anyone. Don't speak to anyone."
"Mom. It's not 1956."
"Yes, it is." She turns on him. "It is. It is always 1956. People do terrible things. You think they won't, but they do. They spy and they lie, and they will tie a man by his ankles and they will light him on fire and they will watch as he burns. They will watch. Why don't you listen to me, Tibor? You never listen to me." [pp.132-3]


While Under Budapest may seem like a criminal thriller of a novel, it has no tidy ending, no tying up of loose ends or an arrested mob boss at the end. It isn't a story about crime so much as a story about people, humans caught in the trap of their memories, in their own madness, in their own lies and guilt and pain. It is a story of human flaws as much as it is a story of moving beyond them to do an act of good. It is a story about the past and how it has a tight hold on Hungary's present, no matter how far away the people emigrate. It is a story of the mysteries beneath Budapest, secrets that the people hold onto out of hope as much as fear, because when your loved one goes missing, is arrested and vanishes, it's better to believe they are locked up under Budapest than dead and discarded.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> Bristol House 15811504
In modern-day London, architectural historian and recovering alcoholic Annie Kendall hopes to turn her life around and restart her career by locating several long-missing pieces of ancient Judaica. Geoff Harris, an investigative reporter, is soon drawn into her quest, both by romantic interest and suspicions about the head of the Shalom Foundation, the organization sponsoring her work. He’s also a dead ringer for the ghost of a monk Annie believes she has seen at the flat she is subletting in Bristol House.

In 1535, Tudor London is a very different city, one in which monks are being executed by Henry VIII and Jews are banished. In this treacherous environment of religious persecution, Dom Justin, a Carthusian monk, and a goldsmith known as the Jew of Holborn must navigate a shadowy world of intrigue involving Thomas Cromwell, Jewish treasure, and sexual secrets. Their struggles shed light on the mysteries Annie and Geoff aim to puzzle out—at their own peril.

This riveting dual-period narrative seamlessly blends a haunting supernatural thriller with vivid historical fiction. Beverly Swerling, widely acclaimed for her City of Dreams series, delivers a bewitching and epic story of a historian and a monk, half a millennium apart, whose destinies are on a collision course.]]> 416 Beverly Swerling 0670025933 Shannon 4
To smooth the way, Annie, an architectural historian, is allowed to use a flat, No.8 Bristol House on Southampton Row, paid for by Weinraub whose secretary is the niece of the owner, Mrs Bea Walton. The flat is much bigger than Annie has need for, and comes with a couple of interesting features: a huge black-and-white mural depicting miniature scenes of London that covers one wall in the room she'll use as her bedroom; and the ghost of a Carthusian monk from the same period she's here to research: the Tudor period.

Several things give Annie the sense that the monk is here to help, not harm her. As a recovering alcoholic who lost custody of her son when he was just three years old, she has the unique perspective of someone who believes in AA; as she thinks of it, AA and the process of dealing with her addiction has left her hollowed out and open to manifestations - as well as the kind of revelations that many would deem strange or plain crazy.

Then she meets well-known British television personality and investigative journalist, Geoffrey Harris, and is shocked to find that he is the spitting image of her Carthusian ghost, minus the tonsure. Confiding in Geoff leads to a close friendship and growing intimacy between the two, but it also puts Annie in contact with people Geoff knows whose experience and knowledge sheds further light on the mysteries that she begins to uncover. It's quickly apparent that the task the Shalom Foundation set her on is little more than a smokescreen, though there is something they - or rather, Weinraub - is keen to have her find. But what is really going on here? What is Weinraub's interest in the mural in her bedroom, what is the monk trying to tell her, and what is the Speckled Egg?

Figuring all of these mysteries out will lead Annie on a fascinating path into Jewish mysticism, ancient Catholic politics, code-breaking and the complicated underground tunnels that lie beneath London. Danger is closing in on her, and the closer she gets to the truth, the more desperate her enemies become.

Having absolutely loved Swerling's novel, , which I read over ten years ago, I was very eager to read her latest book, Bristol House. I knew what the basic plot was about, having read the publisher's summary, but I still wasn't sure what kind of book this was going to be, nor where it was going to take me. It turned out to be a pleasant surprise, not what I was expecting and yet so much more. Reading this finely-crafted novel was hugely enjoyable, for many reasons, and had the added bonus of making me think pretty much every chapter: "Ah, the plot thickens."

(It would do Bristol House an extreme disservice to compare or liken it to Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, and yet - not being a reader of these kinds of mysteries, typically, but I have read that one (a REALLY long time ago) - it was the book that came to mind when the story began to delve into ancient religious politics and conflicts, religious secrets and artefacts and a conspiracy that ties it all together. But that's really the only thing the two have in common, and aside from that loose connection they're very dissimilar. If anything, this is the novel for people who didn't like Brown's, as much as it is for people who did: it's still a mystery, a suspense story, loaded with historical and religious exploration and discovery. The things that annoyed so many people about The Da Vinci Code are absent from this, while it retains all the excitement and adds some new elements to the structure.)

I do enjoy a book containing mystery and suspense that takes me down a path unknown. Combining the story of Dom Justin, the Carthusian monk, and Giacomo the Lombard, otherwise known as the Jew of Holborn, from 1535 with a present-day mystery and religious conspiracy sounds a little bizarre when I put it like that, but actually it gives the story a depth and uniqueness that would otherwise be absent. Both Dom Justin and Giacomo tell their stories from "the Waiting Place", purgatory - Dom Justin in particular understands that he needs to atone for his sins by helping "the woman", Annie. I'm a little unsure over whether Giacomo did anything to help Annie or not, but his perspective on Justin's tale really fleshes it out. The parts of the story set in 1535 instantly transport you to Tudor England (and, later, Europe); in fact it was at times jarring, first to be whipped away from Annie's story, then to be torn away from Justin's.

This near-constant tug-of-war between the two narratives is not a negative; it actually makes the story both stronger and more insistent, or imperative - the sense of urgency is greater for having Justin's insight. Besides which, 1535 sounds like a scary time to live, with Cromwell breathing down your neck and Henry VIII beginning to round up and burn anyone who disagreed with his decision to make himself the head of the Church of England - thus breaking ties with the Catholic church. The historical portions of the story are vividly rendered, right down to the food and the underwear and the pestilence. With Annie uncovering clues about the period in the present, the two layers of narrative work together to present a sense of true danger and uncertainty, in both periods.

I confess I wasn't able to really grasp all the revelations, not because they weren't well explained (from different angles, too), but because I just don't have any prior knowledge of things like Kabbalah numerology etc. and I still don't really understand the part about the A's - I do and I don't. I need to be able to see it I think. And have some understanding of Hebrew. And French. Honestly the depth and breadth of Swerling's knowledge and research is astounding.

At first I was a bit wary of Annie having this horrible past: her parents die in a car accident when she's quite young; then her aunt packs her twin brother Aaron (who she calls Ari) off to another aunt and he ends up committing suicide; she becomes an alcoholic, gets married while still a uni student and has a baby, Ari, who was removed from her home when he was three because of neglect and unhygenic living conditions. It was just piling up on Annie's head and seemed like way too much, except that the more you get to know her, the more it all just ... works. Certainly it's all inter-connected and the important point, the part relevant to the mystery narrative, is how AA has helped reshape her. I really don't know much about AA, clearly; I got a new and very insightful look into the inner lives of (recovering) alcoholics and the kind of tensile strength they needs must possess.

As a mystery story, Annie's character isn't the focus of the book, but it does come through in the narrative, both distinct and subtle. Swerling uses small details and a keen eye for flaws to depict Annie. In contrast, Geoff Harris was a little too perfect and convenient: he's attractive, he's wealthy, he's extremely well-connected and has loads of sources and contacts and inside people, plus he was already sniffing around Weinraub because of something else. And yes, all of those reasons (except his appearance) were why he sought out Annie after their initial introduction, and the idea of, if you like, 'fated coincidence' is a running theme throughout the book. I wasn't too bothered because I liked Geoff a lot, and he seemed so, well, normal to me - a man removed from the stereotypes upheld by popular media, especially TV commercials. He was quite finely balanced, as a human being, and definitely the kind of man you'd want someone like Annie, who's been through so much already, to be with.

Of course, one of the other major characters in the book is Bristol House itself, and I do love a book where a building becomes a character in its own right. It's a bit of an eery place, though I'm sure that's just the ghost - and the mural; going by the description, it sounds pretty overwhelming and even a bit oppressive. Amazing no one had painted over it already (it dates from early-ish 20th century). The way No.8 Bristol House plays into the mystery side of the narrative, going beyond a haunted back room to becoming integral to deciphering what's going on, is deftly handled. Again, it's Annie's state of mind that enables her to arrive at many of her intuitive conclusions, though for the reader, it's her conversations with some very interesting Rabbis that help it sound reasonable (though I don't have any trouble going along with magical realism wherever it pops up, in fact I love it and without that element I wouldn't have enjoyed this half as much as I did).

I did get the impression that Swerling was writing with an American audience in mind, as the characters conveniently translated British English (expressions and vocab) for Annie. It was smoothly incorporated but while once or twice would have seemed natural enough, that both Annie and Geoff were doing it every time seemed one convenience too many. And seriously, is there anyone who doesn't know what porridge or a mobile is, in the English-speaking world? Surely American readers know those at least! That kind of thing will probably stick out to non-North American readers, but at the very least Swerling's dialogue is quite natural and effortless, and such things as this became light teasing that was quite fun.

This is quite a complex story, and fascinating to read if you're interested in history - both religious and European - and ideas surrounding time and the supernatural. The ending is both climactic and, yes, a little cheesy, but I was so caught up in it that I couldn't have cared less. (And there are a few details in it that sent some serious chills going down my back!) I learnt a lot from reading this, which I don't often get to say. Full of atmosphere, believable characters and a genuine-feeling romance that nicely balances out the darker aspects, Beverly Swerling has achieved that thing that high school teachers the world over try to capture: a book that is both entertaining and educational.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.]]> 3.51 2013 Bristol House
author: Beverly Swerling
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.51
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/04/03
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, fiction, speculative-fiction, 2013, mystery-suspense, historical-fiction
review:
When the Shalom Foundation, run by billionaire American Jew Philip Weinraub, approaches Dr Annie Kendall with a proposition she can't refuse, little does she realise just what the three-month research project she's signed up for will entail. The proposition is quite simple: go to London and research the so-called Jew of Holborn, a Jew who lived in hiding during the Cromwell years (1535 in particular), who found a treasury of ancient Jewish artefacts and later distributed them to synagogues across Europe. Her task is to corroborate this theory and even locate the source of the treasure, "but simply proving that such things found their way to England will be a remarkable coup," as Weinraub puts it.

To smooth the way, Annie, an architectural historian, is allowed to use a flat, No.8 Bristol House on Southampton Row, paid for by Weinraub whose secretary is the niece of the owner, Mrs Bea Walton. The flat is much bigger than Annie has need for, and comes with a couple of interesting features: a huge black-and-white mural depicting miniature scenes of London that covers one wall in the room she'll use as her bedroom; and the ghost of a Carthusian monk from the same period she's here to research: the Tudor period.

Several things give Annie the sense that the monk is here to help, not harm her. As a recovering alcoholic who lost custody of her son when he was just three years old, she has the unique perspective of someone who believes in AA; as she thinks of it, AA and the process of dealing with her addiction has left her hollowed out and open to manifestations - as well as the kind of revelations that many would deem strange or plain crazy.

Then she meets well-known British television personality and investigative journalist, Geoffrey Harris, and is shocked to find that he is the spitting image of her Carthusian ghost, minus the tonsure. Confiding in Geoff leads to a close friendship and growing intimacy between the two, but it also puts Annie in contact with people Geoff knows whose experience and knowledge sheds further light on the mysteries that she begins to uncover. It's quickly apparent that the task the Shalom Foundation set her on is little more than a smokescreen, though there is something they - or rather, Weinraub - is keen to have her find. But what is really going on here? What is Weinraub's interest in the mural in her bedroom, what is the monk trying to tell her, and what is the Speckled Egg?

Figuring all of these mysteries out will lead Annie on a fascinating path into Jewish mysticism, ancient Catholic politics, code-breaking and the complicated underground tunnels that lie beneath London. Danger is closing in on her, and the closer she gets to the truth, the more desperate her enemies become.

Having absolutely loved Swerling's novel, , which I read over ten years ago, I was very eager to read her latest book, Bristol House. I knew what the basic plot was about, having read the publisher's summary, but I still wasn't sure what kind of book this was going to be, nor where it was going to take me. It turned out to be a pleasant surprise, not what I was expecting and yet so much more. Reading this finely-crafted novel was hugely enjoyable, for many reasons, and had the added bonus of making me think pretty much every chapter: "Ah, the plot thickens."

(It would do Bristol House an extreme disservice to compare or liken it to Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, and yet - not being a reader of these kinds of mysteries, typically, but I have read that one (a REALLY long time ago) - it was the book that came to mind when the story began to delve into ancient religious politics and conflicts, religious secrets and artefacts and a conspiracy that ties it all together. But that's really the only thing the two have in common, and aside from that loose connection they're very dissimilar. If anything, this is the novel for people who didn't like Brown's, as much as it is for people who did: it's still a mystery, a suspense story, loaded with historical and religious exploration and discovery. The things that annoyed so many people about The Da Vinci Code are absent from this, while it retains all the excitement and adds some new elements to the structure.)

I do enjoy a book containing mystery and suspense that takes me down a path unknown. Combining the story of Dom Justin, the Carthusian monk, and Giacomo the Lombard, otherwise known as the Jew of Holborn, from 1535 with a present-day mystery and religious conspiracy sounds a little bizarre when I put it like that, but actually it gives the story a depth and uniqueness that would otherwise be absent. Both Dom Justin and Giacomo tell their stories from "the Waiting Place", purgatory - Dom Justin in particular understands that he needs to atone for his sins by helping "the woman", Annie. I'm a little unsure over whether Giacomo did anything to help Annie or not, but his perspective on Justin's tale really fleshes it out. The parts of the story set in 1535 instantly transport you to Tudor England (and, later, Europe); in fact it was at times jarring, first to be whipped away from Annie's story, then to be torn away from Justin's.

This near-constant tug-of-war between the two narratives is not a negative; it actually makes the story both stronger and more insistent, or imperative - the sense of urgency is greater for having Justin's insight. Besides which, 1535 sounds like a scary time to live, with Cromwell breathing down your neck and Henry VIII beginning to round up and burn anyone who disagreed with his decision to make himself the head of the Church of England - thus breaking ties with the Catholic church. The historical portions of the story are vividly rendered, right down to the food and the underwear and the pestilence. With Annie uncovering clues about the period in the present, the two layers of narrative work together to present a sense of true danger and uncertainty, in both periods.

I confess I wasn't able to really grasp all the revelations, not because they weren't well explained (from different angles, too), but because I just don't have any prior knowledge of things like Kabbalah numerology etc. and I still don't really understand the part about the A's - I do and I don't. I need to be able to see it I think. And have some understanding of Hebrew. And French. Honestly the depth and breadth of Swerling's knowledge and research is astounding.

At first I was a bit wary of Annie having this horrible past: her parents die in a car accident when she's quite young; then her aunt packs her twin brother Aaron (who she calls Ari) off to another aunt and he ends up committing suicide; she becomes an alcoholic, gets married while still a uni student and has a baby, Ari, who was removed from her home when he was three because of neglect and unhygenic living conditions. It was just piling up on Annie's head and seemed like way too much, except that the more you get to know her, the more it all just ... works. Certainly it's all inter-connected and the important point, the part relevant to the mystery narrative, is how AA has helped reshape her. I really don't know much about AA, clearly; I got a new and very insightful look into the inner lives of (recovering) alcoholics and the kind of tensile strength they needs must possess.

As a mystery story, Annie's character isn't the focus of the book, but it does come through in the narrative, both distinct and subtle. Swerling uses small details and a keen eye for flaws to depict Annie. In contrast, Geoff Harris was a little too perfect and convenient: he's attractive, he's wealthy, he's extremely well-connected and has loads of sources and contacts and inside people, plus he was already sniffing around Weinraub because of something else. And yes, all of those reasons (except his appearance) were why he sought out Annie after their initial introduction, and the idea of, if you like, 'fated coincidence' is a running theme throughout the book. I wasn't too bothered because I liked Geoff a lot, and he seemed so, well, normal to me - a man removed from the stereotypes upheld by popular media, especially TV commercials. He was quite finely balanced, as a human being, and definitely the kind of man you'd want someone like Annie, who's been through so much already, to be with.

Of course, one of the other major characters in the book is Bristol House itself, and I do love a book where a building becomes a character in its own right. It's a bit of an eery place, though I'm sure that's just the ghost - and the mural; going by the description, it sounds pretty overwhelming and even a bit oppressive. Amazing no one had painted over it already (it dates from early-ish 20th century). The way No.8 Bristol House plays into the mystery side of the narrative, going beyond a haunted back room to becoming integral to deciphering what's going on, is deftly handled. Again, it's Annie's state of mind that enables her to arrive at many of her intuitive conclusions, though for the reader, it's her conversations with some very interesting Rabbis that help it sound reasonable (though I don't have any trouble going along with magical realism wherever it pops up, in fact I love it and without that element I wouldn't have enjoyed this half as much as I did).

I did get the impression that Swerling was writing with an American audience in mind, as the characters conveniently translated British English (expressions and vocab) for Annie. It was smoothly incorporated but while once or twice would have seemed natural enough, that both Annie and Geoff were doing it every time seemed one convenience too many. And seriously, is there anyone who doesn't know what porridge or a mobile is, in the English-speaking world? Surely American readers know those at least! That kind of thing will probably stick out to non-North American readers, but at the very least Swerling's dialogue is quite natural and effortless, and such things as this became light teasing that was quite fun.

This is quite a complex story, and fascinating to read if you're interested in history - both religious and European - and ideas surrounding time and the supernatural. The ending is both climactic and, yes, a little cheesy, but I was so caught up in it that I couldn't have cared less. (And there are a few details in it that sent some serious chills going down my back!) I learnt a lot from reading this, which I don't often get to say. Full of atmosphere, believable characters and a genuine-feeling romance that nicely balances out the darker aspects, Beverly Swerling has achieved that thing that high school teachers the world over try to capture: a book that is both entertaining and educational.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> <![CDATA[Children of the Underground (Children of Paranoia #2)]]> 15808476 Even if you have choices, sometimes you only have one worth making.

The war had been raging for as long as anyone could remember. The secret, endless war between two opposing sides—one good, one evil. Neither side knows which is which; it is kill or be killed in an invisible conflict where assassination is the weapon of choice.

When she was just seventeen, Maria was pulled into this secret war and they killed her lover and stole her child. Now they are telling her to go home. To ignore what she knows is going on in the shadows all around her. They told Maria to forget all she’d lost. The trouble is, some things simply can’t be forgotten.

Now, with a loose-cannon killer at her side, Maria is going to do whatever it takes to get back what belongs to her. And that means starting a war of her own…]]> 379 Trevor Shane 0451239296 Shannon 4 The War has been raging for as long as anyone can remember. The secret, endless War between two opposing sides - one good, one evil. Neither side knows which one is which; it is kill or be killed in an illusory conflict in which assassination is the weapon of choice.

When she was seventeen, Maria was pulled into this secret War, and they killed her lover and stole her child. Now they are telling her to go home. To ignore what she knows is going on in the shadows all around her. They tell Maria to forget all she's lost. The trouble is, something simply can't be forgotten.

That is the publisher's blurb that instantly drew me into reading these books - first , which was intense, gripping and thought-provoking, and now the sequel, Children of the Underground. It's like that blurb was written just for me. It hit all my buttons, and I just HAD to read the books. And what a great impulsive decision that was!

The first book was Joe's story, the journal he kept to explain everything to Maria, whom he fell in love with. Joe is gone, taken from Maria in the tragic, violent climax of Children of Paranoia - and so is their child. According to the rules of the War, any child born to a parent who is underage (Maria was seventeen) is to be handed over to the other side to raise - to essentially become the enemy. They did what they could to escape this rule, this cruel fate, but They are everywhere, in all facets of society across the globe, and there is no hiding from Them.

Maria was not born into the War, and she never married Joe - she is still considered a civilian. Untouchable. And under-estimated. She is determined to get her baby, Christopher, back, to protect him from this senseless War that seeks to claim him as yet another victim who had no choice. Armed with very few clues from Joe's journal, Maria sets out to locate Michael, Joe's other friend and, like him, a skilled assassin (they call them Soldiers) in the War. Michael has dropped out of the War - as he puts it, he hasn't quit, he's just stopped taking orders. But out on the island off the Jersey shore where he always loved to spend downtime, the enemy keeps coming for him.

With Michael's help, Maria has an extra lead: the Underground, something she hadn't even known existed. There are others who've tried to escape the War, and the Underground helps set them up with new identities. But why should they help Maria? After all, Christopher is safe. Until he's eighteen, no one can touch him. And locating the information of where he is is hard enough, let alone the task of getting to it. But there is no one so determined as a mother out to protect her baby, and as Christopher's first birthday approaches - a milestone that would likely mean he'll forget the sound of his mother's voice - Maria is driven to do whatever is necessary to locate him, and save him.

First of all, let me say how much I enjoyed this. Children of the Underground follows seamlessly on from the first book and has all the power and intensity and suspense of its predecessor. New layers are added, and the world in which the War takes place - our world, but also the War itself - broadens and deepens as we learn more about it, much more than Joe ever knew. There is the Underground, who help people escape the War but have no interest in doing anything that will help end the War; and there are also the Rebels, who split from the Underground because they decided they couldn't sit by and watch everyone die without fighting to stop it.

We learn about the Rebels through some alternating chapters that break up Maria's narrative, a young woman called Addy and a civilian teenager called Evan. Evan got caught up in a raid by accident, but They have now made him into a terrorist - all because he and Addy were the only ones to have escaped. All the Rebel bases in California were raided, by SWAT teams no less, the victims disguised as terrorists in the media, and Addy has nowhere to turn but her old friends in the Underground - if they are still there, if they will welcome her.

What we don't learn for quite some time is when these scenes are taking place - past, present, future? I'll leave that for you to discover, as to reveal it now would be to give too much away. I'll just say that it sets up the third (and final?) book admirably.

Where I was slightly disappointed by Children of the Underground was with Maria herself. I really liked Maria in the first book, but I found that what made her a distinct character somewhat evaporated in her own narrative. Certainly, her circumstances have changed and she's not the person she once was. But actually I think it is a simple and unfortunate case of Shane writing her in much the same voice and style as Joe. Both are told as the characters write their journals - Joe for Maria, Maria for Christopher - and this is convincingly done. The writing doesn't get flowery, or too descriptive, though it's certainly better written than the majority of us would write a journal! It wasn't that, it was that Maria's own personality seemed to be missing.

I can make lots of justifications for the way this is written - she's in an extreme situation, she's changed a lot in order to survive, and so on. And it's true: the War makes everyone paranoid, and there's no room for laughter or nostalgia in that. I couldn't help but want to see glimpses of some other side of Maria, though, some evidence that a part of the old Maria had survived. A, dare I say it, more feminine side. But overall, I admired Shane's skill in depicting her, how she'd changed, how relentless and even ruthless she became - as seen in those scenes towards the end, which I can't describe because I don't want to give it away. I suppose what I was really feeling was sadness that the girl Joe first met, who made jokes and flirted and was full of life and vitality and promise, had been scraped away, replaced by a woman who is all hard edges and paranoia and determination. And that, in turn, made me nostalgic for the Maria I first met. (It's great to have the chance to talk myself through these readerly feelings to get to the nuggets of my reactions, and I hope you don't mind me not editing this to remove my thought processes.)

Her most distinctive character trait was the strength of her love and mothering instincts towards Christopher, and that side of her I could completely relate to - as the mother of a young toddler (not yet 2), the thought of someone taking my baby away to be raised by some other family and, after his eighteenth birthday, killed for no bloody reason, makes my gut clench and my blood boil. I felt ill thinking of it, which is great because the best books are ones that really make you feel, and it's something I always want from a book, no matter what the emotion is. When Maria's story began, I had no idea how she could possibly accomplish her aim of getting him back. The War is impenetrable, or so it seems, and ultra secretive, and she had no contacts. There's also the sense of a looming deadline, a sense of urgency, that propels the novel forward with gut-clenching suspense.

But considering Maria was writing her journal for her son, I would have expected - and wanted, myself - to learn more about Maria. If she was writing it partly in the expectation that she wouldn't ever get to tell him any of this herself, later, then wouldn't she have wanted to tell him his maternal history? I wanted to learn more about Maria, about her life before she met Joe, but also what's going through her mind. I've read books that get bogged down with repetitive self-reflection and introspection, to the point where I get completely fed up; then there are other stories that just don't have enough. This would be one of those. There was some, of course, but not enough to really help me connect with her. She still comes across as strong, intelligent, and caught in a life-changing (and totally horrific) situation as she becomes like the very people she is trying to save her son from.

Another part of Maria that seemed to get lost was her Canadian roots. As far as I remember from the first book, she's from Ontario and was going to university in Montreal when Joe met her. I liked this detail about her, but it seemed to have been discarded somewhere along the way. Also, a small side note, but when she mentions spending summers at her parents' cottage in Maine, I felt a bit incredulous. I've lived in Ontario for over 7 years now, and no one here has a cottage in Maine. Ontario IS cottage country! The Kawarthas, Muskoka, Georgian Bay, everywhere - a cottage is for weekend getaways as much as longer holidays, and everyone either has a place here, knows someone who does that they can use, or rents one. I found myself very sceptical on this point. (I had to look it up - Maine is east of Quebec, in a part of the U.S. that looks like it should be Canada. So not too far-fetched if her family lived near the border, but from Ontario...!?)

In the end, I had to put aside my yearning to really know Maria and read this as the suspenseful, violent thriller that it is. The characters are starting to unravel a bit - that's the sense I get - in their unwavering determination to believe in the War. It sustains them, and it gives their lives - and their deaths - hope and meaning. Without it, they're just senseless murderers. The mechanics behind it all are starting to show, too, and they're looking decidedly ugly and scarily inhumane.

When I read the first book, I read the War as an analogy for those conflicts across tenuous borders that occur all over the world. Reading the second book, I was thinking more of gangs. Especially as kids keep getting shot here in Toronto, and it is all just as senseless and stupid and useless as the War in this story. It makes your heart ache. I have no idea how Shane will conclude this, where he will take it, but I am absolutely along for the ride. This is an unforgettable series that takes you right down into the dark, cruel depths of the human heart juxtaposed against the unflinching determination behind a mother's love.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.
]]> 4.24 2013 Children of the Underground (Children of Paranoia #2)
author: Trevor Shane
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.24
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/04/08
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, speculative-fiction, 2013, thriller, mystery-suspense
review:
The War has been raging for as long as anyone can remember. The secret, endless War between two opposing sides - one good, one evil. Neither side knows which one is which; it is kill or be killed in an illusory conflict in which assassination is the weapon of choice.

When she was seventeen, Maria was pulled into this secret War, and they killed her lover and stole her child. Now they are telling her to go home. To ignore what she knows is going on in the shadows all around her. They tell Maria to forget all she's lost. The trouble is, something simply can't be forgotten.

That is the publisher's blurb that instantly drew me into reading these books - first , which was intense, gripping and thought-provoking, and now the sequel, Children of the Underground. It's like that blurb was written just for me. It hit all my buttons, and I just HAD to read the books. And what a great impulsive decision that was!

The first book was Joe's story, the journal he kept to explain everything to Maria, whom he fell in love with. Joe is gone, taken from Maria in the tragic, violent climax of Children of Paranoia - and so is their child. According to the rules of the War, any child born to a parent who is underage (Maria was seventeen) is to be handed over to the other side to raise - to essentially become the enemy. They did what they could to escape this rule, this cruel fate, but They are everywhere, in all facets of society across the globe, and there is no hiding from Them.

Maria was not born into the War, and she never married Joe - she is still considered a civilian. Untouchable. And under-estimated. She is determined to get her baby, Christopher, back, to protect him from this senseless War that seeks to claim him as yet another victim who had no choice. Armed with very few clues from Joe's journal, Maria sets out to locate Michael, Joe's other friend and, like him, a skilled assassin (they call them Soldiers) in the War. Michael has dropped out of the War - as he puts it, he hasn't quit, he's just stopped taking orders. But out on the island off the Jersey shore where he always loved to spend downtime, the enemy keeps coming for him.

With Michael's help, Maria has an extra lead: the Underground, something she hadn't even known existed. There are others who've tried to escape the War, and the Underground helps set them up with new identities. But why should they help Maria? After all, Christopher is safe. Until he's eighteen, no one can touch him. And locating the information of where he is is hard enough, let alone the task of getting to it. But there is no one so determined as a mother out to protect her baby, and as Christopher's first birthday approaches - a milestone that would likely mean he'll forget the sound of his mother's voice - Maria is driven to do whatever is necessary to locate him, and save him.

First of all, let me say how much I enjoyed this. Children of the Underground follows seamlessly on from the first book and has all the power and intensity and suspense of its predecessor. New layers are added, and the world in which the War takes place - our world, but also the War itself - broadens and deepens as we learn more about it, much more than Joe ever knew. There is the Underground, who help people escape the War but have no interest in doing anything that will help end the War; and there are also the Rebels, who split from the Underground because they decided they couldn't sit by and watch everyone die without fighting to stop it.

We learn about the Rebels through some alternating chapters that break up Maria's narrative, a young woman called Addy and a civilian teenager called Evan. Evan got caught up in a raid by accident, but They have now made him into a terrorist - all because he and Addy were the only ones to have escaped. All the Rebel bases in California were raided, by SWAT teams no less, the victims disguised as terrorists in the media, and Addy has nowhere to turn but her old friends in the Underground - if they are still there, if they will welcome her.

What we don't learn for quite some time is when these scenes are taking place - past, present, future? I'll leave that for you to discover, as to reveal it now would be to give too much away. I'll just say that it sets up the third (and final?) book admirably.

Where I was slightly disappointed by Children of the Underground was with Maria herself. I really liked Maria in the first book, but I found that what made her a distinct character somewhat evaporated in her own narrative. Certainly, her circumstances have changed and she's not the person she once was. But actually I think it is a simple and unfortunate case of Shane writing her in much the same voice and style as Joe. Both are told as the characters write their journals - Joe for Maria, Maria for Christopher - and this is convincingly done. The writing doesn't get flowery, or too descriptive, though it's certainly better written than the majority of us would write a journal! It wasn't that, it was that Maria's own personality seemed to be missing.

I can make lots of justifications for the way this is written - she's in an extreme situation, she's changed a lot in order to survive, and so on. And it's true: the War makes everyone paranoid, and there's no room for laughter or nostalgia in that. I couldn't help but want to see glimpses of some other side of Maria, though, some evidence that a part of the old Maria had survived. A, dare I say it, more feminine side. But overall, I admired Shane's skill in depicting her, how she'd changed, how relentless and even ruthless she became - as seen in those scenes towards the end, which I can't describe because I don't want to give it away. I suppose what I was really feeling was sadness that the girl Joe first met, who made jokes and flirted and was full of life and vitality and promise, had been scraped away, replaced by a woman who is all hard edges and paranoia and determination. And that, in turn, made me nostalgic for the Maria I first met. (It's great to have the chance to talk myself through these readerly feelings to get to the nuggets of my reactions, and I hope you don't mind me not editing this to remove my thought processes.)

Her most distinctive character trait was the strength of her love and mothering instincts towards Christopher, and that side of her I could completely relate to - as the mother of a young toddler (not yet 2), the thought of someone taking my baby away to be raised by some other family and, after his eighteenth birthday, killed for no bloody reason, makes my gut clench and my blood boil. I felt ill thinking of it, which is great because the best books are ones that really make you feel, and it's something I always want from a book, no matter what the emotion is. When Maria's story began, I had no idea how she could possibly accomplish her aim of getting him back. The War is impenetrable, or so it seems, and ultra secretive, and she had no contacts. There's also the sense of a looming deadline, a sense of urgency, that propels the novel forward with gut-clenching suspense.

But considering Maria was writing her journal for her son, I would have expected - and wanted, myself - to learn more about Maria. If she was writing it partly in the expectation that she wouldn't ever get to tell him any of this herself, later, then wouldn't she have wanted to tell him his maternal history? I wanted to learn more about Maria, about her life before she met Joe, but also what's going through her mind. I've read books that get bogged down with repetitive self-reflection and introspection, to the point where I get completely fed up; then there are other stories that just don't have enough. This would be one of those. There was some, of course, but not enough to really help me connect with her. She still comes across as strong, intelligent, and caught in a life-changing (and totally horrific) situation as she becomes like the very people she is trying to save her son from.

Another part of Maria that seemed to get lost was her Canadian roots. As far as I remember from the first book, she's from Ontario and was going to university in Montreal when Joe met her. I liked this detail about her, but it seemed to have been discarded somewhere along the way. Also, a small side note, but when she mentions spending summers at her parents' cottage in Maine, I felt a bit incredulous. I've lived in Ontario for over 7 years now, and no one here has a cottage in Maine. Ontario IS cottage country! The Kawarthas, Muskoka, Georgian Bay, everywhere - a cottage is for weekend getaways as much as longer holidays, and everyone either has a place here, knows someone who does that they can use, or rents one. I found myself very sceptical on this point. (I had to look it up - Maine is east of Quebec, in a part of the U.S. that looks like it should be Canada. So not too far-fetched if her family lived near the border, but from Ontario...!?)

In the end, I had to put aside my yearning to really know Maria and read this as the suspenseful, violent thriller that it is. The characters are starting to unravel a bit - that's the sense I get - in their unwavering determination to believe in the War. It sustains them, and it gives their lives - and their deaths - hope and meaning. Without it, they're just senseless murderers. The mechanics behind it all are starting to show, too, and they're looking decidedly ugly and scarily inhumane.

When I read the first book, I read the War as an analogy for those conflicts across tenuous borders that occur all over the world. Reading the second book, I was thinking more of gangs. Especially as kids keep getting shot here in Toronto, and it is all just as senseless and stupid and useless as the War in this story. It makes your heart ache. I have no idea how Shane will conclude this, where he will take it, but I am absolutely along for the ride. This is an unforgettable series that takes you right down into the dark, cruel depths of the human heart juxtaposed against the unflinching determination behind a mother's love.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.

]]> <![CDATA[The Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones]]> 15815372
Meet Tristan Hart, a brilliant young man of means. The year is 1751, and Mr Hart leaves his Berkshire home for London to lodge with his father's friend, the novelist and dramatist Henry Fielding, and study medicine at the great hospital of University College. It will be a momentous year for the cultured and intellectually ambitious Mr Hart, who, as well as being a student of Locke and Descartes and a promising young physician, is also, alas, a psychopath. His obsession is the nature of pain, and preventing it during medical procedures. His equally strong and far more unpredictable obsession is the nature of pain, and causing it. Desperate to understand his own deviant desires before they derail his career and drive him mad, Tristan sifts through his childhood memories, memories that are informed by dark superstitions about faeries and goblins and shape-shifting gypsies. Will the new tools of the age-reason and science and scepticism-be enough to save him?

Unexpectedly funny, profoundly imaginative, and with a strange love story at its heart, The Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones is a novel about the Enlightenment, the relationship between the mind and body, sex, madness, the nature of pain, and the existence of God.]]> 549 Jack Wolf 0143123823 Shannon 4 always, escapes trouble, seeming to disappear into thin air and letting Tristan take the blame for all their mischief; and two, he has a habit of suddenly snatching terns (a kind of bird) out of hedgerows and eating them raw. But he is Tristan's best friend; in fact, his only friend, as Tristan, unfortunately for the times, takes after his Jewish mother, Eugenia, with his dark colouring, while his older sister Jane looks like their father, the Squire.

As Tristan grows into an intelligent, ambitious young man, he finally gets his wish and leaves home for London to study anatomy and medicine with Dr William Hunter at the hospital of St Thomas. He stays with an old friend of his father's, the novelist-turned-magistrate Henry Fielding (he who penned Tom Jones: The History of a Foundling). But Tristan is more than a surgeon-in-training: he is psychotic. Since he was a boy he has suffered from the occasional hallucinating fit, a period of madness that quite takes over his rational self. More than that, Tristan has an obsession with pain. He does not like to be in pain, but he derives an erotic pleasure from inflicting it. A whore at the brothel of Mrs Haywood satisfies this side of him and teaches him much, but his fascination goes deeper: he seeks to investigate the affect of pain upon the body, and even hypothesises that pain could be an important step in healing.

It isn't until he meets Katherine, Nathaniel's young cousin, that Tristan finds a woman after his own heart. But there is a dark, painful episode in Katherine's past and the truth of it will unhinge Tristan and send him deep into his own insanity.

The Tale of Raw Head & Bloody Bones is a multifaceted one: a personal history, even a coming-of-age story; a story of science, medicine and reason; a fable of local English folklore come to life, complete with scary fairies, deceiving goblins and changelings. It is a story of one man's journey into the darkest recesses of human desire, and a story that merges all of this together into a highly detailed work written with an eye to historical authenticity. As always I am amazed and deeply impressed by the amount of research and sheer dedication that must have gone into writing a book of this scope, and in this style.

Set in the mid-1700s (the main part of the story is set in 1751-2), Wolf has written Tristan's narrative - told in the first person - as if it really had been written at that time. Complete with an older style of spelling and expressions and an abundance of capitalised nouns, it does take a while to get the hang of reading this book. As the narrator, Tristan is never "out of character" - unlike most historical fiction written today, the novel maintains this style throughout and never once drops into a more modern speak; no "gotten's" to be found here! It begins fairly slowly, and the capitalised nouns did throw me at first, but you soon get the hang of it and it speeds up. That said, Tristan is a very reflective, introspective sort of person and provides a lot of detail, so the narrative never feels especially fast.

The details, however, provide a fascinating look into the period in which it's set, one that I'm sure is modelled on Tom Jones itself (I haven't read it yet but I do remember watching a BBC adaptation many years ago - the one starring a very young Samantha Morton as Sophy). It contains some interesting tidbits, like the fact that until 1751 (or it may have been 1752, I lost track), the New Year was held in March. Then Parliament moved it to the end of December, and later they shaved off several days in September. I love getting these kinds of reminders that something we today consider as immutable - the calendar - was played around with a fair deal, and was far from fixed for the longest time.

Then there is the sense of atmosphere and the reality of living in this period, which is vividly rendered. Far from the rigid sensibilities and careful skirting-around-the-point of Jane Austen, writing some fifty years after Tristan's time, the earlier 18th century seems almost vulgar, in comparison. This was a time of great scientific exploration, when doctors and philosophers had made great inroads into what is now modern science, yet were still affected by centuries of superstition and folklore, which creates an unusual set of ideas to the modern reader, ones which are far from resolved today.

"Do you then admit the Possibility that every living Thing may have a Soule, of one Sort or another?"
"I do not know," I said, looking him in the eye. "I know that I cannot equate Soule with Mind, as Descartes does. But to say that all Life hath a Soule would give Soules to the intire animal Kingdom."
Do Animals have Minds? I wondered suddenly. Doth Thought equate with Sensation? 'Tis the old Problem: Doth Sensation dwell within the Mind, or in the Body?
Mr Glass shrugged both his Shoulders. "Perhaps they have them," he said, and went back to his Study.
Dr Hunter laughed. "I perceive you are a good Aristotelian, Mr Glass! 'Tis well enough; perchance what this Profession needs is a few more Englishmen who recognise the Necessity of a Place for God in God's Creation. Man is not a Machine, Gentlemen!"
I joined in the Laughter, which was far from unkindly meant, altho' I still had achieved no useful Answer to my Query. Yet I began to ponder mine earlier Judgement that the Cadaver had been no more than a broken Clock; for if it were a Machine after Death, it had to have been one before it. I remembered again my Theory that mine own perceptual Difficulties had resulted from some physical Cause. The Machine of my Brain had become ill, and my Mind had suffered its Effects. [p.155]


Tristan is an interesting protagonist, one of those highly unreliable narrators whom you can't help but like, immensely so. He reminded me of , in that regard. I kept expecting him to turn out a lot worse than he actually did. I thought he might turn into one of those serial killers, a psychotic one who uses his victims for vivisection. And it's true that there were times when Tristan seemed to teeter on the brink of becoming such a man. Yet he is possessed of a conscience, and aspires to be a certain kind of man. A good man, who sees and feels the beauty in moments of raw humanity.

As the good Doctor's Blade bit into her Flesh, Lady B.--- screamed. At once, my Fire was back, as if 'twere never doused. Her Scream was a white Arrow, swift and light, a feathered Shaft vibrating with a stinging Hiss, and climbing, climbing, extatically high, one shining silver Note; but then, as it reached the Apex of its Flight it was suddenly gone. The Room rang with its Silence.
"She hath fainted," said Dr Oliver. "Good."
Good? I thought, with a cruel Spit of Anger. Good? My cheated Body howled Frustration. The aethereal Beauty of the Moment had dissolved into an ugly Lust that had neither Object nor Hope of Satiation. For the second Time, I could have wept. [p.180]


Interestingly, I found that my experience of reading so many erotica and erotic-romance novels over the last few years enabled me to understand Tristan and explore his life with an open mind on my part. I might not be able to relate to him, but I certainly enjoyed seeing life through his eyes, his perception, and feeling what he felt. The best fiction can do this for a reader, and Wolf certainly excelled at taking me right into Tristan's mind.

He recognises the kind of monster he is (one who is excited by a woman's scream) and owns it, but he also is honest about what kind of monster he is not. He is lucky indeed to have found Katherine, who actually needs to feel pain and cuts herself routinely, until she met Tristan anyway. The two are a perfect match, which makes Tristan's descent into madness so painful. I couldn't help but want things to work out for him, and for him to find happiness. He is not a bad sort, just different from what is considered normal.

One of Tristan's on-going hallucinations involves the fae: he believes that the gypsies who come through Shireland and its surroundings are actually fairies, and not a nice kind. I won't go into the details of it because it would rather spoil things, but an element that Wolf achieved extremely well - and this is what I meant by Tristan being an unreliable narrator - was in making the reader completely unsure as to what was real and what was Tristan's psychotic fantasy, or one of his hallucinations. I liked the way that played out, but for quite a while there I was almost in agony, for fear that Tristan was a lot madder than he realised.

I do know that there is terrible Monstrosity in me; that I, if I were to permit My Self, would happily and at one Moment's Provocation, transform into a Bloody Bones of chilling worldly Ambition and ruthless Curiosity, who would drag to my grisly Den and do real harm to Friend and Foe alike with little Care for anything except the Fulfilment of mine own Desire for Knowledge. I know too that this intellectual Evil, which is of a Species peculiar to me and other Men of 카지노싸이트, will remain within me, spreading its bloody Filaments thro' my Tissues until the Daye I die; but I will never seek its Excoriation. I control it. I am that Kind of Monster. [p.546]


I haven't yet referred to the title of the book, I just realised. I'm not sure how much to say and how much to leave for new readers to discover. I will say this at least: Raw Head and Bloody Bones are characters out of legend and superstition, the kind of fae creatures used to scare children into being good. As Tristan's friend Erasmus Glass tells him at one point, in an attempt to shake Tristan's conviction that they are real, every county has its own version, but they are nothing more than superstition. Tristan comes to identify himself as Bloody Bones, which also becomes Katherine's affectionate, intimate nickname for him; so who then is Raw Head, and what did he do to Katherine several years ago? The truth is more apparent to the reader than it is to Tristan, who is blinded by old loyalties and love.

But it is his journey into his own mind, its tricks and delusions as well as the truth it hides from his own self, that binds this whole novel together. The mix of folklore and science, superstition and reason, makes for one heady, imaginative story as Tristan seeks to find a balance within himself, between his deviant desires and his moral compass, as he also finds a way to combat those Fae foes that seek to destroy him. This book satisfied me on multiple levels: my love of fantasy and folklore, my fascination with the darker sides of human nature and what goes on inside a person's mind, my appreciation of a good story and my interest in history. Jack Wolf has written a compelling and highly original debut novel.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.]]> 3.13 2013 The Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones
author: Jack Wolf
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.13
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/04/24
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, tlc-book-tours, historical-fiction, 2013, gothic-horror
review:
Growing up in Berkshire (now Oxfordshire) in the eighteenth century, close by the , Tristan Hart spent much of his childhood with his best friend, Nathaniel Ravenscroft, the beautiful son of the village rector. Nathaniel has two characteristics that only Tristan seems to be aware of: one, he always, always, escapes trouble, seeming to disappear into thin air and letting Tristan take the blame for all their mischief; and two, he has a habit of suddenly snatching terns (a kind of bird) out of hedgerows and eating them raw. But he is Tristan's best friend; in fact, his only friend, as Tristan, unfortunately for the times, takes after his Jewish mother, Eugenia, with his dark colouring, while his older sister Jane looks like their father, the Squire.

As Tristan grows into an intelligent, ambitious young man, he finally gets his wish and leaves home for London to study anatomy and medicine with Dr William Hunter at the hospital of St Thomas. He stays with an old friend of his father's, the novelist-turned-magistrate Henry Fielding (he who penned Tom Jones: The History of a Foundling). But Tristan is more than a surgeon-in-training: he is psychotic. Since he was a boy he has suffered from the occasional hallucinating fit, a period of madness that quite takes over his rational self. More than that, Tristan has an obsession with pain. He does not like to be in pain, but he derives an erotic pleasure from inflicting it. A whore at the brothel of Mrs Haywood satisfies this side of him and teaches him much, but his fascination goes deeper: he seeks to investigate the affect of pain upon the body, and even hypothesises that pain could be an important step in healing.

It isn't until he meets Katherine, Nathaniel's young cousin, that Tristan finds a woman after his own heart. But there is a dark, painful episode in Katherine's past and the truth of it will unhinge Tristan and send him deep into his own insanity.

The Tale of Raw Head & Bloody Bones is a multifaceted one: a personal history, even a coming-of-age story; a story of science, medicine and reason; a fable of local English folklore come to life, complete with scary fairies, deceiving goblins and changelings. It is a story of one man's journey into the darkest recesses of human desire, and a story that merges all of this together into a highly detailed work written with an eye to historical authenticity. As always I am amazed and deeply impressed by the amount of research and sheer dedication that must have gone into writing a book of this scope, and in this style.

Set in the mid-1700s (the main part of the story is set in 1751-2), Wolf has written Tristan's narrative - told in the first person - as if it really had been written at that time. Complete with an older style of spelling and expressions and an abundance of capitalised nouns, it does take a while to get the hang of reading this book. As the narrator, Tristan is never "out of character" - unlike most historical fiction written today, the novel maintains this style throughout and never once drops into a more modern speak; no "gotten's" to be found here! It begins fairly slowly, and the capitalised nouns did throw me at first, but you soon get the hang of it and it speeds up. That said, Tristan is a very reflective, introspective sort of person and provides a lot of detail, so the narrative never feels especially fast.

The details, however, provide a fascinating look into the period in which it's set, one that I'm sure is modelled on Tom Jones itself (I haven't read it yet but I do remember watching a BBC adaptation many years ago - the one starring a very young Samantha Morton as Sophy). It contains some interesting tidbits, like the fact that until 1751 (or it may have been 1752, I lost track), the New Year was held in March. Then Parliament moved it to the end of December, and later they shaved off several days in September. I love getting these kinds of reminders that something we today consider as immutable - the calendar - was played around with a fair deal, and was far from fixed for the longest time.

Then there is the sense of atmosphere and the reality of living in this period, which is vividly rendered. Far from the rigid sensibilities and careful skirting-around-the-point of Jane Austen, writing some fifty years after Tristan's time, the earlier 18th century seems almost vulgar, in comparison. This was a time of great scientific exploration, when doctors and philosophers had made great inroads into what is now modern science, yet were still affected by centuries of superstition and folklore, which creates an unusual set of ideas to the modern reader, ones which are far from resolved today.

"Do you then admit the Possibility that every living Thing may have a Soule, of one Sort or another?"
"I do not know," I said, looking him in the eye. "I know that I cannot equate Soule with Mind, as Descartes does. But to say that all Life hath a Soule would give Soules to the intire animal Kingdom."
Do Animals have Minds? I wondered suddenly. Doth Thought equate with Sensation? 'Tis the old Problem: Doth Sensation dwell within the Mind, or in the Body?
Mr Glass shrugged both his Shoulders. "Perhaps they have them," he said, and went back to his Study.
Dr Hunter laughed. "I perceive you are a good Aristotelian, Mr Glass! 'Tis well enough; perchance what this Profession needs is a few more Englishmen who recognise the Necessity of a Place for God in God's Creation. Man is not a Machine, Gentlemen!"
I joined in the Laughter, which was far from unkindly meant, altho' I still had achieved no useful Answer to my Query. Yet I began to ponder mine earlier Judgement that the Cadaver had been no more than a broken Clock; for if it were a Machine after Death, it had to have been one before it. I remembered again my Theory that mine own perceptual Difficulties had resulted from some physical Cause. The Machine of my Brain had become ill, and my Mind had suffered its Effects. [p.155]


Tristan is an interesting protagonist, one of those highly unreliable narrators whom you can't help but like, immensely so. He reminded me of , in that regard. I kept expecting him to turn out a lot worse than he actually did. I thought he might turn into one of those serial killers, a psychotic one who uses his victims for vivisection. And it's true that there were times when Tristan seemed to teeter on the brink of becoming such a man. Yet he is possessed of a conscience, and aspires to be a certain kind of man. A good man, who sees and feels the beauty in moments of raw humanity.

As the good Doctor's Blade bit into her Flesh, Lady B.--- screamed. At once, my Fire was back, as if 'twere never doused. Her Scream was a white Arrow, swift and light, a feathered Shaft vibrating with a stinging Hiss, and climbing, climbing, extatically high, one shining silver Note; but then, as it reached the Apex of its Flight it was suddenly gone. The Room rang with its Silence.
"She hath fainted," said Dr Oliver. "Good."
Good? I thought, with a cruel Spit of Anger. Good? My cheated Body howled Frustration. The aethereal Beauty of the Moment had dissolved into an ugly Lust that had neither Object nor Hope of Satiation. For the second Time, I could have wept. [p.180]


Interestingly, I found that my experience of reading so many erotica and erotic-romance novels over the last few years enabled me to understand Tristan and explore his life with an open mind on my part. I might not be able to relate to him, but I certainly enjoyed seeing life through his eyes, his perception, and feeling what he felt. The best fiction can do this for a reader, and Wolf certainly excelled at taking me right into Tristan's mind.

He recognises the kind of monster he is (one who is excited by a woman's scream) and owns it, but he also is honest about what kind of monster he is not. He is lucky indeed to have found Katherine, who actually needs to feel pain and cuts herself routinely, until she met Tristan anyway. The two are a perfect match, which makes Tristan's descent into madness so painful. I couldn't help but want things to work out for him, and for him to find happiness. He is not a bad sort, just different from what is considered normal.

One of Tristan's on-going hallucinations involves the fae: he believes that the gypsies who come through Shireland and its surroundings are actually fairies, and not a nice kind. I won't go into the details of it because it would rather spoil things, but an element that Wolf achieved extremely well - and this is what I meant by Tristan being an unreliable narrator - was in making the reader completely unsure as to what was real and what was Tristan's psychotic fantasy, or one of his hallucinations. I liked the way that played out, but for quite a while there I was almost in agony, for fear that Tristan was a lot madder than he realised.

I do know that there is terrible Monstrosity in me; that I, if I were to permit My Self, would happily and at one Moment's Provocation, transform into a Bloody Bones of chilling worldly Ambition and ruthless Curiosity, who would drag to my grisly Den and do real harm to Friend and Foe alike with little Care for anything except the Fulfilment of mine own Desire for Knowledge. I know too that this intellectual Evil, which is of a Species peculiar to me and other Men of 카지노싸이트, will remain within me, spreading its bloody Filaments thro' my Tissues until the Daye I die; but I will never seek its Excoriation. I control it. I am that Kind of Monster. [p.546]


I haven't yet referred to the title of the book, I just realised. I'm not sure how much to say and how much to leave for new readers to discover. I will say this at least: Raw Head and Bloody Bones are characters out of legend and superstition, the kind of fae creatures used to scare children into being good. As Tristan's friend Erasmus Glass tells him at one point, in an attempt to shake Tristan's conviction that they are real, every county has its own version, but they are nothing more than superstition. Tristan comes to identify himself as Bloody Bones, which also becomes Katherine's affectionate, intimate nickname for him; so who then is Raw Head, and what did he do to Katherine several years ago? The truth is more apparent to the reader than it is to Tristan, who is blinded by old loyalties and love.

But it is his journey into his own mind, its tricks and delusions as well as the truth it hides from his own self, that binds this whole novel together. The mix of folklore and science, superstition and reason, makes for one heady, imaginative story as Tristan seeks to find a balance within himself, between his deviant desires and his moral compass, as he also finds a way to combat those Fae foes that seek to destroy him. This book satisfied me on multiple levels: my love of fantasy and folklore, my fascination with the darker sides of human nature and what goes on inside a person's mind, my appreciation of a good story and my interest in history. Jack Wolf has written a compelling and highly original debut novel.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> What Love Sounds Like 17230584 Praise for WHAT LOVE SOUNDS '... a very sweet and charming story...' — Contemporary Romance Reviews]]> 158 Alissa Callen 0857990128 Shannon 4
Tilly's parents, Kade's younger half-brother and his wife, died not that long ago, leaving their only child in the care of a man who knows nothing about children and who is eager to get her speech problem straightened out as soon as he can so that he can foist her off onto a nanny while he goes back to the office. As CEO of his own company, worth millions, Kade has no time or patience for children, but mostly he simply can't relate. He didn't have a mother at all, she died at his birth, and he never had any toys either - he was given his first share portfolio when he was four, and when his father remarried he was sent to boarding school.

Now he's out at the old heritage homestead, Berrilea, that his grandmother left him - the only person to have given him a hug or show love for him during the two weeks he once spent there as a child. A three hour drive from Whylandra, Mia's only choice in treating Tilly is to move out there for the five weeks it'll take to work on Tilly's pronunciation of K and G sounds. Kade does everything he can to contain them, insisting they confine themselves to the music room, but in every way Mia defies him. She uses play to help Tilly learn, and the two of them are soon seen all over the house and garden. He can't concentrate on his work and flying his helicopter* back to Sydney to get work done there is worse: he can't think without seeing what Mia's up to.

In all ways, Mia makes Kade confront who he really is and what kind of man he could aspire to be, knowing that for Tilly, the little girl needs a father figure and desperately wants Kade's love and attention. Yet Mia has her own father issues, and showing Kade that he doesn't have to be the man his own father shaped him into is only the first step. Can she heed her own advice and learn to trust men, and Kade in particular? Or will she remain the woman her own father indirectly made her into?

This was my first foray into the new sub-genre of "rural romance" that's all the rage in Australia these days, and I must say it was really enjoyable. The setting - mostly Berrilea, an old two-storey brick homestead with wide verandahs and large gardens - carries an understated atmosphere, a sense of heat and wide open vistas and isolation, as well as the occasional lurking danger (snake!).

While the millionaire-tycoon-businessman hero is a stock character in romance, I do like it when efforts are made to make it part of the plot (and by plot I mean the emotional growth of the characters, which is what romance is all about really). There wouldn't have been a story if Kade hadn't been the man he was, and there's the connection to Mia's own hardball father too (I picture someone like but without the love for family, or maybe, ugh, Donald Trump - that kind of entrepreneur). I felt immense sympathy for Kade, especially Kade-as-little-boy, who never had toys to play with or someone to read to him or play games with him, who was taught instead how to make lots of money, as if that were the point of living. Mia sees her own father in Kade, which enables her to keep her armour on around him, but despite their clashes the growing sexual tension between them is palpable - and lots of fun.

I liked Mia a lot, and I loved reading the scenes where she works with Tilly on her speech - and luring Kade in to join them in their games. I could empathise with both girls, because when I was a kid I had to see a speech pathologist too. I was in grade 2 and I couldn't say "S" or "R" properly (I couldn't even say my own name or my sister's right!). The pathologist would come to the primary school every week in a mobile truck-van thing, same as the dentist, and work with the kids who needed it. We played a lot of games, though the only one I remember is Memory (which I was very good at!), and she corrected my speech quite beautifully. I am very fond of speech pathologists, and it seems to me like they combine pathology with child psychiatry. Mia certainly does, and it's that side of her that prompts her to try and get Kade to change, for Tilly's sake.

In the end it's harder for Mia to change than it is Kade; Mia prefers to run away than take a chance and trust Kade, feeling that she can't cope with more betrayal from the men in her life. As much as I dismayed at this fairly standard romance-genre device, I did like how it was handled and how undramatic it was. There is somehow more power and more emotional oomph in scenes that are fraught with tension and emotion and yet, on the surface, seem almost ordinary. It carries greater weight, to underplay it like that. And the whole time, the setting itself held the characters and the story safely in a gentle hold - Berrilea made an impression on me perhaps because it reminded me of old farm homes I visited as a child, nothing so big and grand as this one but old and stately and big in their own way, and with impressive gardens too. There was one around the corner from us that was probably smaller than it seemed but always felt huge to me, and had a rather grand terrace-balcony thing in a semi-circle coming off the lounge room, high up enough to give lovely views (southerly though, so not much light). There were other homes like that that I visited because friends lived there, and they were always interesting to explore. I have a great love for old houses, especially the farm ones. So many gems, tucked away like that!

I know it seems like I got way off-topic there, but that's one of the reasons why I love these Aussie romances: they're so familiar, in their way, so homey, in ways that romances from other countries just never are (I don't think I've read a Canadian romance yet, apart from a couple of Lynsay Sands' books set in Ontario, which have a similar effect on me). I feel comforted by them. They make me think of my childhood, my home, my love for my country, and they deliver really good stories, like What Love Sounds Like Like. I found it very easy to immerse myself in Mia and Kade's world, and to watch their feelings grow and get all tangled up. It's satisfying almost in a personal way. What Love Sounds Like Like is lively, fun and deceptively simple storytelling with great emotional depth.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.

*This is not so strange as it might seem: many farmers on the "stations" (massive farms) in the outback of mainland Australia use helicopters just to get around their land, and even to herd cattle, not just in Australia but in New Zealand as well. (Horses are still popular though, as are four-wheel motorbikes.) Granted, Kade isn't a farmer, but still.
]]> 3.90 2013 What Love Sounds Like
author: Alissa Callen
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.90
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/19
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: e-book, review-copy, romance, rural, 2013, australian-women-writers, aww2013
review:
Amelia Windsor left Sydney for the small town of Whylandra in the hot, dry outback of NSW after realising her fiancé cared more about being associated to her famous business tycoon father than her, and set up her own speech pathology clinic, Little Poppies. The day Kade Reid walks into her office with his four-year-old niece and ward, Tilly, the air conditioning had broken and Mia's already spilled her drink all over Tilly's file - and her clothes. Meeting Kade doesn't go much better: the man is aloof and cold and reminds Mia all too vividly of her own father, whose number one priority in life is making money - something he's extremely good at, to the detriment of his family.

Tilly's parents, Kade's younger half-brother and his wife, died not that long ago, leaving their only child in the care of a man who knows nothing about children and who is eager to get her speech problem straightened out as soon as he can so that he can foist her off onto a nanny while he goes back to the office. As CEO of his own company, worth millions, Kade has no time or patience for children, but mostly he simply can't relate. He didn't have a mother at all, she died at his birth, and he never had any toys either - he was given his first share portfolio when he was four, and when his father remarried he was sent to boarding school.

Now he's out at the old heritage homestead, Berrilea, that his grandmother left him - the only person to have given him a hug or show love for him during the two weeks he once spent there as a child. A three hour drive from Whylandra, Mia's only choice in treating Tilly is to move out there for the five weeks it'll take to work on Tilly's pronunciation of K and G sounds. Kade does everything he can to contain them, insisting they confine themselves to the music room, but in every way Mia defies him. She uses play to help Tilly learn, and the two of them are soon seen all over the house and garden. He can't concentrate on his work and flying his helicopter* back to Sydney to get work done there is worse: he can't think without seeing what Mia's up to.

In all ways, Mia makes Kade confront who he really is and what kind of man he could aspire to be, knowing that for Tilly, the little girl needs a father figure and desperately wants Kade's love and attention. Yet Mia has her own father issues, and showing Kade that he doesn't have to be the man his own father shaped him into is only the first step. Can she heed her own advice and learn to trust men, and Kade in particular? Or will she remain the woman her own father indirectly made her into?

This was my first foray into the new sub-genre of "rural romance" that's all the rage in Australia these days, and I must say it was really enjoyable. The setting - mostly Berrilea, an old two-storey brick homestead with wide verandahs and large gardens - carries an understated atmosphere, a sense of heat and wide open vistas and isolation, as well as the occasional lurking danger (snake!).

While the millionaire-tycoon-businessman hero is a stock character in romance, I do like it when efforts are made to make it part of the plot (and by plot I mean the emotional growth of the characters, which is what romance is all about really). There wouldn't have been a story if Kade hadn't been the man he was, and there's the connection to Mia's own hardball father too (I picture someone like but without the love for family, or maybe, ugh, Donald Trump - that kind of entrepreneur). I felt immense sympathy for Kade, especially Kade-as-little-boy, who never had toys to play with or someone to read to him or play games with him, who was taught instead how to make lots of money, as if that were the point of living. Mia sees her own father in Kade, which enables her to keep her armour on around him, but despite their clashes the growing sexual tension between them is palpable - and lots of fun.

I liked Mia a lot, and I loved reading the scenes where she works with Tilly on her speech - and luring Kade in to join them in their games. I could empathise with both girls, because when I was a kid I had to see a speech pathologist too. I was in grade 2 and I couldn't say "S" or "R" properly (I couldn't even say my own name or my sister's right!). The pathologist would come to the primary school every week in a mobile truck-van thing, same as the dentist, and work with the kids who needed it. We played a lot of games, though the only one I remember is Memory (which I was very good at!), and she corrected my speech quite beautifully. I am very fond of speech pathologists, and it seems to me like they combine pathology with child psychiatry. Mia certainly does, and it's that side of her that prompts her to try and get Kade to change, for Tilly's sake.

In the end it's harder for Mia to change than it is Kade; Mia prefers to run away than take a chance and trust Kade, feeling that she can't cope with more betrayal from the men in her life. As much as I dismayed at this fairly standard romance-genre device, I did like how it was handled and how undramatic it was. There is somehow more power and more emotional oomph in scenes that are fraught with tension and emotion and yet, on the surface, seem almost ordinary. It carries greater weight, to underplay it like that. And the whole time, the setting itself held the characters and the story safely in a gentle hold - Berrilea made an impression on me perhaps because it reminded me of old farm homes I visited as a child, nothing so big and grand as this one but old and stately and big in their own way, and with impressive gardens too. There was one around the corner from us that was probably smaller than it seemed but always felt huge to me, and had a rather grand terrace-balcony thing in a semi-circle coming off the lounge room, high up enough to give lovely views (southerly though, so not much light). There were other homes like that that I visited because friends lived there, and they were always interesting to explore. I have a great love for old houses, especially the farm ones. So many gems, tucked away like that!

I know it seems like I got way off-topic there, but that's one of the reasons why I love these Aussie romances: they're so familiar, in their way, so homey, in ways that romances from other countries just never are (I don't think I've read a Canadian romance yet, apart from a couple of Lynsay Sands' books set in Ontario, which have a similar effect on me). I feel comforted by them. They make me think of my childhood, my home, my love for my country, and they deliver really good stories, like What Love Sounds Like Like. I found it very easy to immerse myself in Mia and Kade's world, and to watch their feelings grow and get all tangled up. It's satisfying almost in a personal way. What Love Sounds Like Like is lively, fun and deceptively simple storytelling with great emotional depth.

My thanks to the author for a copy of this book.

*This is not so strange as it might seem: many farmers on the "stations" (massive farms) in the outback of mainland Australia use helicopters just to get around their land, and even to herd cattle, not just in Australia but in New Zealand as well. (Horses are still popular though, as are four-wheel motorbikes.) Granted, Kade isn't a farmer, but still.

]]> The Uninvited Guests 15818225
Evening turns to stormy night, and a most unpleasant parlor game threatens to blow respectability to smithereens: Smudge Torrington, the wayward youngest daughter of the house, decides that this is the perfect moment for her Great Undertaking.

The Uninvited Guests is the bewitching new novel from the critically acclaimed Sadie Jones. The prizewinning author triumphs in this frightening yet delicious drama of dark surprises—where social codes are uprooted and desire daringly trumps propriety—and all is alight with Edwardian wit and opulence.]]> 262 Sadie Jones 0062116517 Shannon 4
In the kitchens, Charlotte's longtime friend and companion, the thin, stiff widow Florence Trieves, works to prepare a feast and an impressive chocolate birthday cake with green icing, helped by the one maid, Myrtle, after the other, Pearl Meadows, declared she was too sick and left. At four the stableman Robert and his boy, Stanley, are to go to the station to collect Emerald's guests, her old friend Patience Sutton and her mother - unaware that Camilla Sutton has sent a telegram to say she can't come (influenza, which Charlotte assumes is a ruse to disguise Camilla's disdain at socialising with the lower-class family at Sterne), and has sent her son, Ernest, in her place. Earnest, now training to be a doctor (while Patience is studying at Oxford), is remembered as a red-haired boy with a squint corrected by the wearing of an eye-patch. Charlotte, in all her acquired snobbery, is disparaging of Ernest just as much as she is snide about Patience.

Clovis is behaving petulantly, Emerald sheds a few tears in the garden while weeding, and their oft-forgotten younger sister, Smudge (Imogen), says she is ill but is found wandering outside in her nightgown. But together they get things ready for the guests and the dinner party, only to have their plans and expectations thrown into disarray when Clovis returns from collecting the Suttons from the station with the news that there's been an accident on the branch line and the railway has told them they must put up the survivors.

Soon, a cluster of weary people from the third-class carriage make their way up the long driveway to Sterne, having missed the cart sent to collect them. Charlotte, unwilling to put herself out to see to them, leaves the arrangements to Emerald and Mrs Trieves. They put the passengers in the morning room with a fire and promptly forget all about them. On their heels comes another passenger from the train, a well-dressed man in a red silk waistcoat but no tie, who effortlessly charms his way inside the house - not as a survivor, shut away in the morning room, but as another guest to Emerald's birthday celebrations.

While Smudge sneaks out to the stables to get her pony, Lady, to take upstairs to her bedroom so she can draw her portrait on her wall, the other guest arrives. John Buchanan is a wealthy mill owner in his early thirties who has his eye set on owning Sterne, either through marriage to Emerald or buying it when the family realises they can't keep it. Emerald isn't interested in him, though, but John is nothing but friendly and good-natured and has patience too. Clovis has taken a shine to the new uninvited guest, who says his name is Charlie Traversham-Beechers - a name none of them can remember, except Charlotte and Mrs Trieves, who are caught in a state of shock at the sight of him.

As the evening progresses and the passengers - who seem to be multiplying - grow evermore restless, Emerald's dinner is taken over by Charlie, who comes with his own kind of mischief and, perhaps, an ulterior motive. He manages to bring out their streaks of cruelty and turn them on themselves. And yet, the most shocking revelation is still to come.

Taking place over the course of twenty-four hours, the family and their (invited) guests go through a kind of rebirth, as all their prejudices and snobbery come to the fore and then... In the new light of day, what will be left of Sterne and its inhabitants?

I was expecting something fairly conventional when I started this book, so what a delight it was to find it developing a brooding gothic atmosphere - one that went from pure atmosphere and implied menace to an all-out ghost story. Combine a really old house with a tense family and, as the title says, the uninvited guests, and you've got a story that goes from a day in the life of some unpleasant people to something altogether surprising, peculiar, surreal even.

When we are first introduced to the individual family members and their interactions with each other, we are presented with the kind of English rural "genteel" family with upper-class aspirations that we've encountered before, the family we love to hate, with their small-minded prejudices and careless snobbery. Charlotte epitomises this, while her son Clovis is the carefree, rather petulant lad with romantic (read: melodramatic) leanings. Smudge is the forgotten, precocious (but really very lovely) youngest child, who gets into all sorts of trouble and yet is so neglected that you can't help but love her (and hate Charlotte even more). Emerald is harder to pin down: she's an elegant, beautiful young woman, but it's not until I write this that I realise I know nothing about her except that, as a child, she loved science. I don't know what her own dreams and aspirations are, whether she has any goals, or what her life is like outside of this one day. Same can be said of Clovis. Contrast that with her friend Patience who is an "academic" and Ernest, the medical student in his final year. They are "good sorts", and of a higher class than the Torrington-Swifts, which is perhaps why Charlotte is so mean towards them.

For such a short book (only 259 pages in my edition), there is a lot going on here, some of it subtle and whimsical, some of it more overt and stronger. Watching these regular people who were expecting a fairly ordinary dinner party, devolve into a kind of manic desperation was fascinating, and skilfully orchestrated. And watching them mature overnight due to their experiences and grow stronger together as a family - and friends (and lovers) - created a warm kind of connection with the characters and the story. Characters like Charlotte didn't change completely, but she did mellow and become more affectionate towards Smudge, for instance - maybe that was just the effects of the day after, but I like to think they were longer-lasting than that.

One of the most impressive things about the story was the gradual building-up of the atmosphere, which completely took me by surprise, in the best way possible. There was such a sense of menace hovering in the shadows, behind closed doors, lurking... somewhere. You could feel it seeping into the lines and pages, like catching something in the corner of your eye that unsettles you but you don't let your mind focus on it because a part of you knows it's too scary. There are even moments of a kind of supernatural drama, like when the passengers first arrive at Sterne, and Emerald gets a kind of presentiment, or the wild elements herald them:

She was obeying a prompt, an instinct left over, perhaps, from an earlier time; the instinct that stops a mouse in its short-sighted tracks when a cat is watching it from a chair; that makes a dog lying by the fire tremble, and whimper, when there is no one near to see.

And as she stopped, there came, of a sudden, a hard gust of wind behind her, striking her through her dress, forcefully, blowing all thoughts of convention from her mind. The heavy front door was closed, but the chill struck Emerald's back, finding its way through the jamb and hinges - through the solid wood itself, it seemed, as a cold wave will sometimes catch one as one leaves the sea and knock the breath from the body. [p.53]


With all this pent-up atmosphere and growing menace (I keep coming back to the word because it really does capture the sense you get), I kept thinking - with a chuckle - that there was going to be a murder soon. Especially when Charlie turns up and starts making mischief. But the direction the story takes if far more supernatural, delving deeper into the realm of ghosts and pure strangeness. Jones pulls it off completely, though, blending the supernatural with the historical, making it all somehow entirely plausible, even when quite over-the-top. And always, always, the atmosphere builds, the tension grows, the mystery deepens.

Smudge could only glimpse the faces at the table, but she felt a terror clutch at her, for they were empty, staring, unlike the faces she knew; just as the feeling in the house, suddenly, was unlike any feeling she had ever known before. She could only see the stranger, Traversham-Beechers, clearly, and to her young eyes, he appeared to have a line drawn around him, a line of darkness, that was - as she only so lately had observed - very much like the charcoal smudges that she had made on her wall. Those lines though, were material; dust and finger, plaster and art - this was freakish, of nothing she could understand and nor did she want to. She saw the cruelty in his face, sensed the atmosphere; he was like a magnet, the air was thick with the pull of him. [p.171]


Jones succeeds admirably with this story, so very different from her first novel, . There's humour here, for a start: this was a surprisingly funny story. The humour isn't always from the characters' mouths or antics, but from the situations, or from the construction of the characters themselves. Irony laces through the story, becoming quite interesting when it mixes with the sense of menace. It is especially prominent (the irony, that is, not the menace) when describing Charlotte's character, or the Torringtons as a family - a family that aspired to a higher class than that which they were from, who had bought Sterne when Emerald was a baby and yet pretend it is a grand family estate, long in their line.

It did take me a while to get into the story, which starts off quite slowly, and Jones' style - again, different from the other book of hers I've read - lacked fluidity at times, due mostly to a punctuation style that gave my eye a tic (please, use more semicolons!), and yet was still quite beautiful, poetic and fluid at others. Once the dinner is underway, things speed up and get very interesting, very quickly, and it's hard to put down. I greatly enjoyed this novel, for the atmosphere Jones created; the tension she so artfully built; the irony that kept making me smile; the characters who seemed to real and understandable, in all their flaws; and the delightful gothic plot that goes so well not just with old manor houses, but the Victorian and Edwardian periods in general (I know, it's two years after the Edwardian era, but this pre-WWI era doesn't have a name like that that captures it so well, so I'm borrowing it!). With its satire of the social-climbing English family, with all their painful class consciousness', nestled neatly within the gothic - or is it vice versa? - it's hard to say what kind of novel this really is, and that blurring of the genre lines is part of what makes it avidly readable.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via .]]> 2.92 2012 The Uninvited Guests
author: Sadie Jones
name: Shannon
average rating: 2.92
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/05
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: historical-fiction, review-copy, 2013, gothic-horror, tlc-book-tours
review:
At her family's old rural manor house, Sterne, Emerald Torrington prepares to celebrate her twentieth birthday. Her step-father, Edward Swift, a lawyer, has left on an overnight trip to Manchester to approach an industrialist for money to invest in saving Sterne, a house badly in need of repairs - Edward won't be missed by his two oldest step-children, Emerald and eighteen-year-old Clovis, who have taken an intense dislike to the one-armed man, mostly because they feel their mother, Charlotte, remarried too soon (three years after their father, Horace, passed away from a long illness) or at all.

In the kitchens, Charlotte's longtime friend and companion, the thin, stiff widow Florence Trieves, works to prepare a feast and an impressive chocolate birthday cake with green icing, helped by the one maid, Myrtle, after the other, Pearl Meadows, declared she was too sick and left. At four the stableman Robert and his boy, Stanley, are to go to the station to collect Emerald's guests, her old friend Patience Sutton and her mother - unaware that Camilla Sutton has sent a telegram to say she can't come (influenza, which Charlotte assumes is a ruse to disguise Camilla's disdain at socialising with the lower-class family at Sterne), and has sent her son, Ernest, in her place. Earnest, now training to be a doctor (while Patience is studying at Oxford), is remembered as a red-haired boy with a squint corrected by the wearing of an eye-patch. Charlotte, in all her acquired snobbery, is disparaging of Ernest just as much as she is snide about Patience.

Clovis is behaving petulantly, Emerald sheds a few tears in the garden while weeding, and their oft-forgotten younger sister, Smudge (Imogen), says she is ill but is found wandering outside in her nightgown. But together they get things ready for the guests and the dinner party, only to have their plans and expectations thrown into disarray when Clovis returns from collecting the Suttons from the station with the news that there's been an accident on the branch line and the railway has told them they must put up the survivors.

Soon, a cluster of weary people from the third-class carriage make their way up the long driveway to Sterne, having missed the cart sent to collect them. Charlotte, unwilling to put herself out to see to them, leaves the arrangements to Emerald and Mrs Trieves. They put the passengers in the morning room with a fire and promptly forget all about them. On their heels comes another passenger from the train, a well-dressed man in a red silk waistcoat but no tie, who effortlessly charms his way inside the house - not as a survivor, shut away in the morning room, but as another guest to Emerald's birthday celebrations.

While Smudge sneaks out to the stables to get her pony, Lady, to take upstairs to her bedroom so she can draw her portrait on her wall, the other guest arrives. John Buchanan is a wealthy mill owner in his early thirties who has his eye set on owning Sterne, either through marriage to Emerald or buying it when the family realises they can't keep it. Emerald isn't interested in him, though, but John is nothing but friendly and good-natured and has patience too. Clovis has taken a shine to the new uninvited guest, who says his name is Charlie Traversham-Beechers - a name none of them can remember, except Charlotte and Mrs Trieves, who are caught in a state of shock at the sight of him.

As the evening progresses and the passengers - who seem to be multiplying - grow evermore restless, Emerald's dinner is taken over by Charlie, who comes with his own kind of mischief and, perhaps, an ulterior motive. He manages to bring out their streaks of cruelty and turn them on themselves. And yet, the most shocking revelation is still to come.

Taking place over the course of twenty-four hours, the family and their (invited) guests go through a kind of rebirth, as all their prejudices and snobbery come to the fore and then... In the new light of day, what will be left of Sterne and its inhabitants?

I was expecting something fairly conventional when I started this book, so what a delight it was to find it developing a brooding gothic atmosphere - one that went from pure atmosphere and implied menace to an all-out ghost story. Combine a really old house with a tense family and, as the title says, the uninvited guests, and you've got a story that goes from a day in the life of some unpleasant people to something altogether surprising, peculiar, surreal even.

When we are first introduced to the individual family members and their interactions with each other, we are presented with the kind of English rural "genteel" family with upper-class aspirations that we've encountered before, the family we love to hate, with their small-minded prejudices and careless snobbery. Charlotte epitomises this, while her son Clovis is the carefree, rather petulant lad with romantic (read: melodramatic) leanings. Smudge is the forgotten, precocious (but really very lovely) youngest child, who gets into all sorts of trouble and yet is so neglected that you can't help but love her (and hate Charlotte even more). Emerald is harder to pin down: she's an elegant, beautiful young woman, but it's not until I write this that I realise I know nothing about her except that, as a child, she loved science. I don't know what her own dreams and aspirations are, whether she has any goals, or what her life is like outside of this one day. Same can be said of Clovis. Contrast that with her friend Patience who is an "academic" and Ernest, the medical student in his final year. They are "good sorts", and of a higher class than the Torrington-Swifts, which is perhaps why Charlotte is so mean towards them.

For such a short book (only 259 pages in my edition), there is a lot going on here, some of it subtle and whimsical, some of it more overt and stronger. Watching these regular people who were expecting a fairly ordinary dinner party, devolve into a kind of manic desperation was fascinating, and skilfully orchestrated. And watching them mature overnight due to their experiences and grow stronger together as a family - and friends (and lovers) - created a warm kind of connection with the characters and the story. Characters like Charlotte didn't change completely, but she did mellow and become more affectionate towards Smudge, for instance - maybe that was just the effects of the day after, but I like to think they were longer-lasting than that.

One of the most impressive things about the story was the gradual building-up of the atmosphere, which completely took me by surprise, in the best way possible. There was such a sense of menace hovering in the shadows, behind closed doors, lurking... somewhere. You could feel it seeping into the lines and pages, like catching something in the corner of your eye that unsettles you but you don't let your mind focus on it because a part of you knows it's too scary. There are even moments of a kind of supernatural drama, like when the passengers first arrive at Sterne, and Emerald gets a kind of presentiment, or the wild elements herald them:

She was obeying a prompt, an instinct left over, perhaps, from an earlier time; the instinct that stops a mouse in its short-sighted tracks when a cat is watching it from a chair; that makes a dog lying by the fire tremble, and whimper, when there is no one near to see.

And as she stopped, there came, of a sudden, a hard gust of wind behind her, striking her through her dress, forcefully, blowing all thoughts of convention from her mind. The heavy front door was closed, but the chill struck Emerald's back, finding its way through the jamb and hinges - through the solid wood itself, it seemed, as a cold wave will sometimes catch one as one leaves the sea and knock the breath from the body. [p.53]


With all this pent-up atmosphere and growing menace (I keep coming back to the word because it really does capture the sense you get), I kept thinking - with a chuckle - that there was going to be a murder soon. Especially when Charlie turns up and starts making mischief. But the direction the story takes if far more supernatural, delving deeper into the realm of ghosts and pure strangeness. Jones pulls it off completely, though, blending the supernatural with the historical, making it all somehow entirely plausible, even when quite over-the-top. And always, always, the atmosphere builds, the tension grows, the mystery deepens.

Smudge could only glimpse the faces at the table, but she felt a terror clutch at her, for they were empty, staring, unlike the faces she knew; just as the feeling in the house, suddenly, was unlike any feeling she had ever known before. She could only see the stranger, Traversham-Beechers, clearly, and to her young eyes, he appeared to have a line drawn around him, a line of darkness, that was - as she only so lately had observed - very much like the charcoal smudges that she had made on her wall. Those lines though, were material; dust and finger, plaster and art - this was freakish, of nothing she could understand and nor did she want to. She saw the cruelty in his face, sensed the atmosphere; he was like a magnet, the air was thick with the pull of him. [p.171]


Jones succeeds admirably with this story, so very different from her first novel, . There's humour here, for a start: this was a surprisingly funny story. The humour isn't always from the characters' mouths or antics, but from the situations, or from the construction of the characters themselves. Irony laces through the story, becoming quite interesting when it mixes with the sense of menace. It is especially prominent (the irony, that is, not the menace) when describing Charlotte's character, or the Torringtons as a family - a family that aspired to a higher class than that which they were from, who had bought Sterne when Emerald was a baby and yet pretend it is a grand family estate, long in their line.

It did take me a while to get into the story, which starts off quite slowly, and Jones' style - again, different from the other book of hers I've read - lacked fluidity at times, due mostly to a punctuation style that gave my eye a tic (please, use more semicolons!), and yet was still quite beautiful, poetic and fluid at others. Once the dinner is underway, things speed up and get very interesting, very quickly, and it's hard to put down. I greatly enjoyed this novel, for the atmosphere Jones created; the tension she so artfully built; the irony that kept making me smile; the characters who seemed to real and understandable, in all their flaws; and the delightful gothic plot that goes so well not just with old manor houses, but the Victorian and Edwardian periods in general (I know, it's two years after the Edwardian era, but this pre-WWI era doesn't have a name like that that captures it so well, so I'm borrowing it!). With its satire of the social-climbing English family, with all their painful class consciousness', nestled neatly within the gothic - or is it vice versa? - it's hard to say what kind of novel this really is, and that blurring of the genre lines is part of what makes it avidly readable.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via .
]]> Yesterday's Sun 15818280
Newly-weds Holly and Tom have just moved into an old manor house in the picturesque English countryside. When Holly discovers a moondial in the overgrown garden and its strange crystal mechanism, little does she suspect that it will change her life forever. For the moondial has a curse.

Each full moon, Holly can see into the future – a future which holds Tom cradling their baby daughter, Libby, and mourning Holly’s death in childbirth…

Holly realises the moondial is offering her a desperate choice: give Tom the baby he has always wanted and sacrifice her own life; or save herself and erase the life of the daughter she has fallen in love with.]]> 336 Amanda Brooke 0062131834 Shannon 4
But Holly remembers all too vividly her own childhood and her useless parents, her teenaged mother who loathed her daughter with an ill-disguised passion, treating her to neglect and verbal abuse before finally leaving when Holly was eight. Her father was a non-entity who taught her to cook - basic things like baked beans - so that he didn't have to. Holly's always believed she doesn't have a maternal instinct because she wouldn't have inherited one, but also, she's deeply afraid of turning out like her own parents. The idea is left hanging, and Holly turns her attention to unpacking and overseeing the renovation of the outhouse which will be her studio while Tom makes an attempt to clean up the overgrown, nettle-infested garden.

When Tom's work goes through a restructuring and Tom is sent to Belgium for six weeks, Holly is left almost alone in the house, an old gatehouse that is all that is left of Hardmonton Hall, which burned down several decades before. The local village contractor, Billy, uncovers a box from the wall of the outbuilding and inside Holly finds the cogs and pieces that accompany what they thought was a sundial in two parts in the garden. With the help of the labourers they get the stone piece onto the plinth, and Holly assembles the puzzle of metal and puts it in place. But it isn't until Jocelyn, an old woman from the village who used to live in the gatehouse a long time ago, pays her a visit that Holly learns it isn't a sundial but a moondial.

On the night of a full moon, the dial seems to call to Holly. By putting a small glass sphere into the metal claw-like grip, something very strange happens. Holly is transported eighteen months into the future, to a world with two very drastic differences: she and Tom have a month-old baby daughter called Libby, but Holly has died in childbirth. The shock is staggering, but having bashed her head on the plinth when the moondial became active, Holly is sure she must be hallucinating. Still, the sight of a grief-stricken Tom shakes her to her core just as the small baby, who alone can see her, bonds with Holly instantly.

The next day, Holly puts the worst of this out of her mind, but she cannot forget Libby. The connection with the baby gives her the inspiration needed to work on a commission project for the rich young wife of a much older man who wants to immortalise her new baby boy in a sculpture for her foyer, something Holly has been struggling with because of her trouble understanding the mother-child bond. Jocelyn proves to be a close friend who visits every Sunday, and slowly over time Holly learns the devastating history of her friend's life in the gatehouse, and the part the moondial played.

Now convinced that the moondial really did transport her to the future, Holly is left to face a decision which has taken on a whole new importance: to give up Libby forever and the chance to ever have a baby, or to go ahead with the pregnancy knowing that she won't survive, won't be around to watch her grow up, and would be leaving Tom, her best friend and love of her life, alone. Several more trips to the future through the moondial, unable to resist the chance to see Libby again, show Holly clearly just how much Tom is grieving, how much he needs her. The choice seems obvious: don't get pregnant. Don't have Libby. But as Holly's bond with Libby grows ever stronger, the decision doesn't seem so straight-forward anymore, and Holly learns the most important lesson that any loving mother knows: sacrifice.

I was initially hesitant to accept this book for review, because after reading the synopsis my first thought was, Oh god no, I can't read this, it'll break my heart. It sounded so sad. But I couldn't get it out of my head either, and as much as stories about mothers and children affect me so much more strongly now that I'm a mother myself, I gravitate to them too. And I wasn't far wrong, either: by page 55, when Holly travels for the first time, I was crying. I cried for this sweet little motherless babe. I cried for Tom who lost his wife and looks so hollow and empty. And I cried for Holly and her fate. I would not want to know the future, I would not want to be in Holly's shoes at all, I can't think of anything more terrifying than learning you're going to die in a year and a half, and how - leaving so many people behind. It's the foreknowledge that's terrifying; obviously, if you're dead, you can't think or feel either way.

Brooke, who wrote the book as a kind of legacy to her son who died of cancer when he was just three years old, successfully captures, with great emotion and realism, Holly's journey through a rainbow of emotions: denial, fear, shock, anger, love and more, and her path towards her decision to have Libby, which we know is the decision she makes thanks to the prologue. Knowing that she decides to go ahead with the pregnancy despite knowing the outcome adds an extra layer of tension and something that I can't quite name, a blend of mystery, danger and ... something else. The atmosphere Brooke created here is just slightly menacing, with a strong sense of time-running-out and other-wordly mystery. There is a back-story to the moondial that fleshes out that side of the plot, keeping the mystery but making it plausible.

It is interesting, actually, just how much you connect with Holly and feel for her, considering the narration has a touch of distance to it. It is more of a narrative than a descriptive story, telling us what the characters do and see and think rather than showing us, and yet it works. It felt rather like watching a story through a magic glass ball, and then falling through the ball into the story itself and being, like Holly in the future, there but invisible, a powerless voyeur. The story focuses on the lives of Holly and her frequently-absent husband, the sculpture Holly is creating, her investigation into the moondial, and her friendship with Jocelyn.

This is an emotional story, one that will wring you out whether you have children or not. I read this in a day (not in a single sitting though) and was drawn in by the speculative nature of the plot's time travel as much as by the intrigue and Holly's conflicting desires, wanting both her husband and her baby, and not wanting to put Tom through the pain of losing her. By the end I was crying so much, I felt so shaken, I needed a big hug from my other half. This isn't a book you'll want to read on the subway or at work, I don't think! The way it played out wasn't what I expected when I read the blurb the first time, but was much better. And the resolution was unexpected right up until Holly was ready to go to hospital to have the baby - I honestly hadn't thought in that direction. I was so caught up in the way Holly was thinking and feeling that there was no room for anything else, for the longest time.

A truly gripping, deeply emotional and moving story about the mother-child bond, the joy a child can bring to your heart, and the realisation of what it means to be a mother. Even though this left me drained and hollowed-out, it also left me feeling so thankful for my healthy son, my own life and family, and the gift of storytelling. I can see myself being drawn to read this again, because there are times when I want, need even, to feel so strongly - especially for other people. It somehow clears up my brain and makes me feel more deeply connected to the world around me and the people (and other animals) that inhabit it, and reminds me of the beautiful things in the world, things worth living for.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.
]]> 3.60 2012 Yesterday's Sun
author: Amanda Brooke
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2012
rating: 4
read at: 2013/02/24
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: review-copy, fiction, made-me-cry, 2013, tlc-book-tours
review:
When Holly and Tom Corrigan move into their country house outside London, it's the completion of Holly's five-year plan: Find a boyfriend; find a gallery to exhibit her artwork; get married; establish a client base to buy her artwork; earn enough to give up her day job; and move to the country - and she's still got six months left of that five years. Now Tom, a thirty-two year old investigative journalist, broaches the idea of a new plan with super-organised Holly: have a baby.

But Holly remembers all too vividly her own childhood and her useless parents, her teenaged mother who loathed her daughter with an ill-disguised passion, treating her to neglect and verbal abuse before finally leaving when Holly was eight. Her father was a non-entity who taught her to cook - basic things like baked beans - so that he didn't have to. Holly's always believed she doesn't have a maternal instinct because she wouldn't have inherited one, but also, she's deeply afraid of turning out like her own parents. The idea is left hanging, and Holly turns her attention to unpacking and overseeing the renovation of the outhouse which will be her studio while Tom makes an attempt to clean up the overgrown, nettle-infested garden.

When Tom's work goes through a restructuring and Tom is sent to Belgium for six weeks, Holly is left almost alone in the house, an old gatehouse that is all that is left of Hardmonton Hall, which burned down several decades before. The local village contractor, Billy, uncovers a box from the wall of the outbuilding and inside Holly finds the cogs and pieces that accompany what they thought was a sundial in two parts in the garden. With the help of the labourers they get the stone piece onto the plinth, and Holly assembles the puzzle of metal and puts it in place. But it isn't until Jocelyn, an old woman from the village who used to live in the gatehouse a long time ago, pays her a visit that Holly learns it isn't a sundial but a moondial.

On the night of a full moon, the dial seems to call to Holly. By putting a small glass sphere into the metal claw-like grip, something very strange happens. Holly is transported eighteen months into the future, to a world with two very drastic differences: she and Tom have a month-old baby daughter called Libby, but Holly has died in childbirth. The shock is staggering, but having bashed her head on the plinth when the moondial became active, Holly is sure she must be hallucinating. Still, the sight of a grief-stricken Tom shakes her to her core just as the small baby, who alone can see her, bonds with Holly instantly.

The next day, Holly puts the worst of this out of her mind, but she cannot forget Libby. The connection with the baby gives her the inspiration needed to work on a commission project for the rich young wife of a much older man who wants to immortalise her new baby boy in a sculpture for her foyer, something Holly has been struggling with because of her trouble understanding the mother-child bond. Jocelyn proves to be a close friend who visits every Sunday, and slowly over time Holly learns the devastating history of her friend's life in the gatehouse, and the part the moondial played.

Now convinced that the moondial really did transport her to the future, Holly is left to face a decision which has taken on a whole new importance: to give up Libby forever and the chance to ever have a baby, or to go ahead with the pregnancy knowing that she won't survive, won't be around to watch her grow up, and would be leaving Tom, her best friend and love of her life, alone. Several more trips to the future through the moondial, unable to resist the chance to see Libby again, show Holly clearly just how much Tom is grieving, how much he needs her. The choice seems obvious: don't get pregnant. Don't have Libby. But as Holly's bond with Libby grows ever stronger, the decision doesn't seem so straight-forward anymore, and Holly learns the most important lesson that any loving mother knows: sacrifice.

I was initially hesitant to accept this book for review, because after reading the synopsis my first thought was, Oh god no, I can't read this, it'll break my heart. It sounded so sad. But I couldn't get it out of my head either, and as much as stories about mothers and children affect me so much more strongly now that I'm a mother myself, I gravitate to them too. And I wasn't far wrong, either: by page 55, when Holly travels for the first time, I was crying. I cried for this sweet little motherless babe. I cried for Tom who lost his wife and looks so hollow and empty. And I cried for Holly and her fate. I would not want to know the future, I would not want to be in Holly's shoes at all, I can't think of anything more terrifying than learning you're going to die in a year and a half, and how - leaving so many people behind. It's the foreknowledge that's terrifying; obviously, if you're dead, you can't think or feel either way.

Brooke, who wrote the book as a kind of legacy to her son who died of cancer when he was just three years old, successfully captures, with great emotion and realism, Holly's journey through a rainbow of emotions: denial, fear, shock, anger, love and more, and her path towards her decision to have Libby, which we know is the decision she makes thanks to the prologue. Knowing that she decides to go ahead with the pregnancy despite knowing the outcome adds an extra layer of tension and something that I can't quite name, a blend of mystery, danger and ... something else. The atmosphere Brooke created here is just slightly menacing, with a strong sense of time-running-out and other-wordly mystery. There is a back-story to the moondial that fleshes out that side of the plot, keeping the mystery but making it plausible.

It is interesting, actually, just how much you connect with Holly and feel for her, considering the narration has a touch of distance to it. It is more of a narrative than a descriptive story, telling us what the characters do and see and think rather than showing us, and yet it works. It felt rather like watching a story through a magic glass ball, and then falling through the ball into the story itself and being, like Holly in the future, there but invisible, a powerless voyeur. The story focuses on the lives of Holly and her frequently-absent husband, the sculpture Holly is creating, her investigation into the moondial, and her friendship with Jocelyn.

This is an emotional story, one that will wring you out whether you have children or not. I read this in a day (not in a single sitting though) and was drawn in by the speculative nature of the plot's time travel as much as by the intrigue and Holly's conflicting desires, wanting both her husband and her baby, and not wanting to put Tom through the pain of losing her. By the end I was crying so much, I felt so shaken, I needed a big hug from my other half. This isn't a book you'll want to read on the subway or at work, I don't think! The way it played out wasn't what I expected when I read the blurb the first time, but was much better. And the resolution was unexpected right up until Holly was ready to go to hospital to have the baby - I honestly hadn't thought in that direction. I was so caught up in the way Holly was thinking and feeling that there was no room for anything else, for the longest time.

A truly gripping, deeply emotional and moving story about the mother-child bond, the joy a child can bring to your heart, and the realisation of what it means to be a mother. Even though this left me drained and hollowed-out, it also left me feeling so thankful for my healthy son, my own life and family, and the gift of storytelling. I can see myself being drawn to read this again, because there are times when I want, need even, to feel so strongly - especially for other people. It somehow clears up my brain and makes me feel more deeply connected to the world around me and the people (and other animals) that inhabit it, and reminds me of the beautiful things in the world, things worth living for.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via TLC Book Tours.

]]> The Man Plan 16281115
Just as she decides her strategy, she meets Matt, her downstairs neighbor. They become unlikely friends, with Matt an amused bystander as Cora tries various methods in search of a man.

Then something strange happens. Matt, who spends his life avoiding commitment, begins to feel jealous of the men Cora is dating and his resolve to never fall in love begins to crumble. Cora finds herself increasingly attracted to Matt. But is he Good Husband material? She thinks not.

A light-hearted, contemporary romance about a young woman who goes looking for love, only to find it right under her nose.]]> 160 Elise K. Ackers 1742536573 Shannon 5
The night she stays up doing "research" - poring over romance books and movies - her loud music brings her downstairs neighbour, Matt, up to complain. They've never met before, but soon Matt is hearing all about "the man plan" - a safe person to talk to, since Cora quickly learns he doesn't commit and has no interest in finding a woman to love and stay with.

Their friendship takes off from there. Cora finds it easy to talk to Matt and share her ideas for meeting men, and doesn't mind when he laughs at her - like when she pretends she can't change a tyre while wearing skimpy shorts, waiting for a man to offer assistance. And Matt enjoys spending time with Cora, hanging out on the weekends, making her dinner - she's a low maintenance friend, a woman who's not trying to get into his pants. Their feelings for each other creep up unnoticed, and, they each think, unreciprocated. Worse, they both think there's no point. Cora understands that Matt could never offer her what she wants, what she needs. And Matt, an only child, still suffers from the emotional and verbal abuse of his parents, who hate each other and drag their son into their conflicts. With role models like that, he doesn't even think he's capable of having a real relationship.

It will take a leap of faith from both of them to not let this chance go, to take a risk and leap together.

Quite simply, I LOVED this book. It had everything I liked and plenty I didn't even know I liked. Maybe I don't read enough contemporary romance, but it was fresh and, while staying true to the genre, deviated from many typical cliches. Matt was no billionaire, for a start. He's a hard-working middle class man, a project manager for a construction company. His parents are middle class too, though they way they speak to each other, and to him, makes them sound incredibly vulgar and lower class. Cora, likewise, is middle class, working as an editor at a publishing house. This puts them on equal footing from the beginning. Money isn't an obstacle or a sticking point. An abundance of it doesn't give Matt a position of authority over Cora. No, they're just two adults who live in a low-rise apartment building in Port Melbourne, the kind of people that Melbourne is full of (especially in the suburbs around the bay), and this is the fun and lively story of two of them meeting.

One of the things I loved about this book was its tone. Ackers writes with a light, friendly, bantering kind of tone, setting an atmosphere that is so welcoming, warm and, why not: cuddly. The kind of story you can snuggle with, a real comfort read. It connects with your emotions without being at all melodramatic or manipulative, and is realistic and familiar in setting, plot and characters which makes it easy to simply enjoy it for its own sake. It's well grounded in the familiar, with popular culture references and a running Superman joke. There's also humour here, with light banter between Matt and Cora, and some of the characters are funny in the way they're described. Matt continuously makes fun of Cora, calling her crazy because of her man plan, and in true Aussie style, she goes along with it, giving as good as she gets.

She watched him, too surprised to comment. He dumped the pan int he sink, ran the water for a moment then helped himself to the cutlery drawer. Seconds later, he was pressing the bowl into her hands, a fork poking out of the top. She gazed down at the spaghetti bolognese.
"Are we sharing?"
He laughed. "No. That's just for you."
"Where's yours?"
"Are you kidding? I don't want to have dinner with you. You're as nuts as they come; you'd probably think it meant something and then go ahead and fall in love with me."
"You're safe there," she muttered, stung yet amused. "I'd never fall in love with someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"A hopeless case. What's the point of falling in love on your own?"
"I couldn't agree more. And on that note, I'm out of here."


It was so much fun, watching their friendship grow, seeing Matt become increasingly jealous of the men Cora does meet, yet in such good-natured denial about his own feelings. He doesn't agonise over it, his turmoil isn't belaboured, there's just enough self-reflection to flesh him out and get the reader on the same page, without boring you. Certainly there are men out there who are like Matt without having any kind of reason for it, it's just their lifestyle of choice and I don't know, maybe they're just inherently selfish. While there are other romance books where the male lead is reluctant to commit because of his parents' example (like Jennifer Probst's , as a recent example), but the fact that Matt's parents are just so ordinary in every other way, and whose horribleness is so believable without the artificial gloss of wealth - everyday people are much more relatable, rather than alienating, and this was, overall, one of the things I loved the most about this book.

It didn't hurt that I loved Cora and Matt. Cora is grieving over the loss of her father, but turns her loneliness into a positive plan for action, rather than wallowing. She's frank and open about it, and her motivations are believable, understandable, and make her very human.

"... I want someone for me. Just for me. Who gives a damn if they don't hear from me during the day, who calls me with their news. I want to be someone's top priority." She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her closed eyes and sighed. "I know it sounds like a lot to ask, but it's really not. I just want to be the one for someone. I want to be a part of something bigger than me."
He was quiet for so long that she lifted her head and opened her eyes.
"This Man Plan..." he said, trailing off.
"Feminists might hate me for saying it, but I need a man. If a man loves me, he might marry me. If he marries me, we might have kids."
"You want to build a family for yourself."
She nodded. "Exactly. My parents met when they were toddlers. My mother once pushed mud into my dad's mouth. They went through school together and became a couple at my mum's fourteenth birthday party. They completed each other, you know? They were all either of them ever needed and they took on the world together. I want that. Even to be a fraction as happy as they were would be a dream come true."


And that is, of course, the point of romance fiction, why it's the biggest selling genre of all genres: the fantasy - if it even is a fantasy - lives strongly within us. Because very few people actually like being alone. Matt thinks he does, he likes his life, but after spending so much time with Cora - on outings and hanging out that, to anyone but those two, looks clearly like they're a couple - his life starts to feel increasingly empty without her. There was good solid chemistry between them, a slow-burning sexual tension, one that isn't satisfied until the very end - and no graphic content (if you like romance but don't like the sex scenes, you might be interested to hear that).

And finally, I loved the conversation between Will and Cora at the end, that made her take that risk, to take a chance on Matt.

"Tell me this: do you think he is incapable of love?"
"No."
"Then do you believe that when - yes, when he falls in love with you - that he'll do it to whatever capacity he can?"
Something light and ticklish fluttered in her stomach. She pressed a hand there to stop it. "Yes."
He nodded. "Isn't that enough? Isn't that all we can ask of anyone - to love us with all that they are?"
Her hand found her mouth. "I'm being an idiot, aren't I?"
"No, Cora. You're just taking a breath before you take the biggest chance of your life. [...] Don't do this if you're hoping to change him."
She blinked up at her old friend, aghast. But then she considered this more deeply. Will waited in silence, understanding the gravity of the moment, then he smiled when he saw something new in her eyes.
"He's perfect as he is."
"Right answer."


Yep. I completely adored this book.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.
]]> 4.07 2012 The Man Plan
author: Elise K. Ackers
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.07
book published: 2012
rating: 5
read at: 2013/01/16
date added: 2021/07/26
shelves: e-book, romance, netgalley, review-copy, 2013, australian-women-writers, aww2013
review:
Cora has had enough of being alone. Now that her father is dead, she has no family left, no boyfriend, and no one to spend Christmas with, and she's never felt so lonely. It's September now, and she comes to a decision: she will take matters into her own hands, meet a man, and have someone to spend Christmas with. And, hopefully, the rest of her life, too.

The night she stays up doing "research" - poring over romance books and movies - her loud music brings her downstairs neighbour, Matt, up to complain. They've never met before, but soon Matt is hearing all about "the man plan" - a safe person to talk to, since Cora quickly learns he doesn't commit and has no interest in finding a woman to love and stay with.

Their friendship takes off from there. Cora finds it easy to talk to Matt and share her ideas for meeting men, and doesn't mind when he laughs at her - like when she pretends she can't change a tyre while wearing skimpy shorts, waiting for a man to offer assistance. And Matt enjoys spending time with Cora, hanging out on the weekends, making her dinner - she's a low maintenance friend, a woman who's not trying to get into his pants. Their feelings for each other creep up unnoticed, and, they each think, unreciprocated. Worse, they both think there's no point. Cora understands that Matt could never offer her what she wants, what she needs. And Matt, an only child, still suffers from the emotional and verbal abuse of his parents, who hate each other and drag their son into their conflicts. With role models like that, he doesn't even think he's capable of having a real relationship.

It will take a leap of faith from both of them to not let this chance go, to take a risk and leap together.

Quite simply, I LOVED this book. It had everything I liked and plenty I didn't even know I liked. Maybe I don't read enough contemporary romance, but it was fresh and, while staying true to the genre, deviated from many typical cliches. Matt was no billionaire, for a start. He's a hard-working middle class man, a project manager for a construction company. His parents are middle class too, though they way they speak to each other, and to him, makes them sound incredibly vulgar and lower class. Cora, likewise, is middle class, working as an editor at a publishing house. This puts them on equal footing from the beginning. Money isn't an obstacle or a sticking point. An abundance of it doesn't give Matt a position of authority over Cora. No, they're just two adults who live in a low-rise apartment building in Port Melbourne, the kind of people that Melbourne is full of (especially in the suburbs around the bay), and this is the fun and lively story of two of them meeting.

One of the things I loved about this book was its tone. Ackers writes with a light, friendly, bantering kind of tone, setting an atmosphere that is so welcoming, warm and, why not: cuddly. The kind of story you can snuggle with, a real comfort read. It connects with your emotions without being at all melodramatic or manipulative, and is realistic and familiar in setting, plot and characters which makes it easy to simply enjoy it for its own sake. It's well grounded in the familiar, with popular culture references and a running Superman joke. There's also humour here, with light banter between Matt and Cora, and some of the characters are funny in the way they're described. Matt continuously makes fun of Cora, calling her crazy because of her man plan, and in true Aussie style, she goes along with it, giving as good as she gets.

She watched him, too surprised to comment. He dumped the pan int he sink, ran the water for a moment then helped himself to the cutlery drawer. Seconds later, he was pressing the bowl into her hands, a fork poking out of the top. She gazed down at the spaghetti bolognese.
"Are we sharing?"
He laughed. "No. That's just for you."
"Where's yours?"
"Are you kidding? I don't want to have dinner with you. You're as nuts as they come; you'd probably think it meant something and then go ahead and fall in love with me."
"You're safe there," she muttered, stung yet amused. "I'd never fall in love with someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"A hopeless case. What's the point of falling in love on your own?"
"I couldn't agree more. And on that note, I'm out of here."


It was so much fun, watching their friendship grow, seeing Matt become increasingly jealous of the men Cora does meet, yet in such good-natured denial about his own feelings. He doesn't agonise over it, his turmoil isn't belaboured, there's just enough self-reflection to flesh him out and get the reader on the same page, without boring you. Certainly there are men out there who are like Matt without having any kind of reason for it, it's just their lifestyle of choice and I don't know, maybe they're just inherently selfish. While there are other romance books where the male lead is reluctant to commit because of his parents' example (like Jennifer Probst's , as a recent example), but the fact that Matt's parents are just so ordinary in every other way, and whose horribleness is so believable without the artificial gloss of wealth - everyday people are much more relatable, rather than alienating, and this was, overall, one of the things I loved the most about this book.

It didn't hurt that I loved Cora and Matt. Cora is grieving over the loss of her father, but turns her loneliness into a positive plan for action, rather than wallowing. She's frank and open about it, and her motivations are believable, understandable, and make her very human.

"... I want someone for me. Just for me. Who gives a damn if they don't hear from me during the day, who calls me with their news. I want to be someone's top priority." She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her closed eyes and sighed. "I know it sounds like a lot to ask, but it's really not. I just want to be the one for someone. I want to be a part of something bigger than me."
He was quiet for so long that she lifted her head and opened her eyes.
"This Man Plan..." he said, trailing off.
"Feminists might hate me for saying it, but I need a man. If a man loves me, he might marry me. If he marries me, we might have kids."
"You want to build a family for yourself."
She nodded. "Exactly. My parents met when they were toddlers. My mother once pushed mud into my dad's mouth. They went through school together and became a couple at my mum's fourteenth birthday party. They completed each other, you know? They were all either of them ever needed and they took on the world together. I want that. Even to be a fraction as happy as they were would be a dream come true."


And that is, of course, the point of romance fiction, why it's the biggest selling genre of all genres: the fantasy - if it even is a fantasy - lives strongly within us. Because very few people actually like being alone. Matt thinks he does, he likes his life, but after spending so much time with Cora - on outings and hanging out that, to anyone but those two, looks clearly like they're a couple - his life starts to feel increasingly empty without her. There was good solid chemistry between them, a slow-burning sexual tension, one that isn't satisfied until the very end - and no graphic content (if you like romance but don't like the sex scenes, you might be interested to hear that).

And finally, I loved the conversation between Will and Cora at the end, that made her take that risk, to take a chance on Matt.

"Tell me this: do you think he is incapable of love?"
"No."
"Then do you believe that when - yes, when he falls in love with you - that he'll do it to whatever capacity he can?"
Something light and ticklish fluttered in her stomach. She pressed a hand there to stop it. "Yes."
He nodded. "Isn't that enough? Isn't that all we can ask of anyone - to love us with all that they are?"
Her hand found her mouth. "I'm being an idiot, aren't I?"
"No, Cora. You're just taking a breath before you take the biggest chance of your life. [...] Don't do this if you're hoping to change him."
She blinked up at her old friend, aghast. But then she considered this more deeply. Will waited in silence, understanding the gravity of the moment, then he smiled when he saw something new in her eyes.
"He's perfect as he is."
"Right answer."


Yep. I completely adored this book.

My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book via Netgalley.

]]> <![CDATA[Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel (Sandpiper Books)]]> 1083012 44 Virginia Lee Burton 0395259398 Shannon 4
First published in 1939, it speaks to the change of eras, the death of the old and the celebration of shiny new things. Mike Mulligan is a construction worker who, along with his steam shovel (a steam-powered excavator) called Mary Anne, has dug canals, and cut through mountains for railways, and levelled hills for highways. He's always been sure that Mary Anne "could dig as much in a day as a hundred men could dig in a week, but he had never been quite sure that this was true."

But then it gets harder to get new jobs because of "the new gasoline shovels and the new electric shovels and the new Diesel motor shovels" that were taking over. Mike didn't want to sell Mary Anne for junk like all the other steam shovel drivers were dong. "Mike loved Mary Anne. He couldn't do that to her." He had taken good care of her but no one wanted them anymore. Then they hear that the nearby town of Popperville was going to build a new town hall, so they head over and offer their services. Mike makes a deal with one of the selectmen, that if they can dig the cellar in a day they get paid, but if they don't they won't.

Mike and Mary Anne start the next day as the sun is coming up, and they work super fast. As more and more people gather to watch, Mary Anne digs faster and faster. They manage to dig the cellar in a day - a job that would have taken a hundred men a week to do - but then realise that there's no way to get Mary Anne out of the hole she's finished digging. A little boy has a bright idea: why not leave her in the cellar and build the town hall above her? "Let her be the furnace for the new town hall," he says. So that's what they do, and Mike Mulligan and Mary Anne live in the cellar and everyone goes to visit them and tell stories.

Even as a kid I found this story sad, even a bit depressing, though I also loved it and kept coming back to it (I may have been a girl, but I was more interested in cars and tractors and things like that, than dolls - in fact, I had no interest in dolls at all, especially those horrid baby ones that wee when you feed them, I thought that was a useless, boring idea for a doll and I didn't like the way toy companies were trying to make my into a mummy at the age of four! Yes, I really did think that when I was little). Even the illustrations ratchet-up the nostalgia factor, not just because they're 30s style (and the details clearly show that in-between-eras problem, with cars alongside horse-drawn wagons), but because the picture of the town hall being built above Mary Anne and Mike Mulligan looks an awful lot like a prison. Or a cage. Or a museum exhibit. Perhaps the latter, and intentionally so.

There's a lot of text to this story, but two-year-olds can sit through it (prepare to be interrupted by a lot of questions that are hard to answer, though!). Older kids, kindergarten age and older, would get more out of the story but there's lots here for younger ones to enjoy too. Bit too long and involved for the attention span of a kid younger than two though.]]> 4.40 1938 Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel (Sandpiper Books)
author: Virginia Lee Burton
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.40
book published: 1938
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/05
date added: 2019/06/09
shelves: 2013, classics, childrens, my-childhood, picture-book, re-read, gift
review:
This was given to Hugh when he was born, a gift from friends of my husband's parents (I only know/remember this because they inscribed the book, something I wish more people would do when they give books as gifts!), and up until that moment I had completely forgotten all about this story. It came back to me quickly when I saw the distinctive illustrations and read the story again after all these years. I read it quite a lot as a kid, I loved it so. It's a sad story, yet positive too.

First published in 1939, it speaks to the change of eras, the death of the old and the celebration of shiny new things. Mike Mulligan is a construction worker who, along with his steam shovel (a steam-powered excavator) called Mary Anne, has dug canals, and cut through mountains for railways, and levelled hills for highways. He's always been sure that Mary Anne "could dig as much in a day as a hundred men could dig in a week, but he had never been quite sure that this was true."

But then it gets harder to get new jobs because of "the new gasoline shovels and the new electric shovels and the new Diesel motor shovels" that were taking over. Mike didn't want to sell Mary Anne for junk like all the other steam shovel drivers were dong. "Mike loved Mary Anne. He couldn't do that to her." He had taken good care of her but no one wanted them anymore. Then they hear that the nearby town of Popperville was going to build a new town hall, so they head over and offer their services. Mike makes a deal with one of the selectmen, that if they can dig the cellar in a day they get paid, but if they don't they won't.

Mike and Mary Anne start the next day as the sun is coming up, and they work super fast. As more and more people gather to watch, Mary Anne digs faster and faster. They manage to dig the cellar in a day - a job that would have taken a hundred men a week to do - but then realise that there's no way to get Mary Anne out of the hole she's finished digging. A little boy has a bright idea: why not leave her in the cellar and build the town hall above her? "Let her be the furnace for the new town hall," he says. So that's what they do, and Mike Mulligan and Mary Anne live in the cellar and everyone goes to visit them and tell stories.

Even as a kid I found this story sad, even a bit depressing, though I also loved it and kept coming back to it (I may have been a girl, but I was more interested in cars and tractors and things like that, than dolls - in fact, I had no interest in dolls at all, especially those horrid baby ones that wee when you feed them, I thought that was a useless, boring idea for a doll and I didn't like the way toy companies were trying to make my into a mummy at the age of four! Yes, I really did think that when I was little). Even the illustrations ratchet-up the nostalgia factor, not just because they're 30s style (and the details clearly show that in-between-eras problem, with cars alongside horse-drawn wagons), but because the picture of the town hall being built above Mary Anne and Mike Mulligan looks an awful lot like a prison. Or a cage. Or a museum exhibit. Perhaps the latter, and intentionally so.

There's a lot of text to this story, but two-year-olds can sit through it (prepare to be interrupted by a lot of questions that are hard to answer, though!). Older kids, kindergarten age and older, would get more out of the story but there's lots here for younger ones to enjoy too. Bit too long and involved for the attention span of a kid younger than two though.
]]> <![CDATA[The Road to Gundagai (Matilda Saga, #3)]]> 18692493
And somewhere a murderer is waiting … to strike again.

This third book in the Waltz for Matilda saga is set in 1932, at the height of the Depression. Miss Matilda is still running Drinkwater Station, but has put aside her own tragedy to help those suffering in tough economic times and Joey, from The Girl from Snowy River, uses his new medical skills to solve a mystery.]]> 448 Jackie French 0732297222 Shannon 5
Orphaned after her parents and baby brother, Willy, die when their ship sinks en route back from South Africa, Blue is kept in ignorance of the state of her family's affairs. Her father was the manager for her grandfather's shoe factory, Laurence Shoes, and she assumes their house burned down in the fire, but no one actually talks to her, not even her Uncle Herbert, who sends her chocolates and some money for her birthday.

With the ten pounds from her uncle, Blue sneaks out at night to see the circus that just arrived in town. The Magnifico Family Circus is a one-night-only event, and Blue enjoys seeing through the trickery in the sideshow tents and trying to guess how things were done. But it's in the Big Top that she really enjoys herself, watching the acrobatic displays and the elephant, called the Queen of Sheba. Led by the indomitable and very talented Madame - of no known name or age - the Magnifico Family Circus is a small group of skilled performers who take on several roles to make the circus feel bigger and more glamorous. Aside from Madame, the fortune-teller, there's Mrs Olsen, her daughter Gertrude and her young son Ginger, who are trapeze artists, and handsome young Fred who plays the bearded lady and many other roles. And there's the middle-aged brothers, Ebenezer and Ephraim, who play the Ring Master and the clown, respectively, among other things, and manage the heavy work.

Her aunts arrive to take her home during the intermission, and lock her in her bedroom for the rest of the night. It is when the house is quiet and everyone asleep - everyone but Blue, who tries not to panic at the thought of being trapped in the room - that there's a tap at her window. The circus has come to break her free, rescue her and hide her in plain sight. Madame, in her inscrutable way, has knowledge that Blue is being poisoned with arsenic - the hair loss is a sure sign. She wagers Blue has barely weeks left to live, and even though Blue resists the idea that her aunts could be trying to kill her, it starts to make a strange sort of sense. Especially when, from the very next day, she stops vomiting and starts feeling better.

It is a long road to full recovery for Blue, though, and in the meantime she's a runaway with the police looking for her. The circus is skilled at hiding people in plain sight, though, and soon Blue is masquerading as a boy when she's not performing as a harem dancer or a mermaid called Belle. Over the next few years Blue finds a new home in the circus, and a new family among the eclectic Magnifico family. Her only guiding thought is to wait till she's of age and can be financially and legally independent; until then, she plans to stay with the circus.

But Blue has no control over the way of the world, or the effect the Depression will indirectly have on the circus and the fate of her new family. It is at the small rural town of Gibber's Creek in 1935 that their luck runs out and Blue's carefree days of performing in a circus come to an end. It is there they meet Miss Matilda, owner of Drinkwater Station, and her husband who runs the nearby wireless factory. It is at Drinkwater that the circus's real secrets come to light and Blue realises just how clever they all are at multiple duplicity. And it is at Drinkwater that a murder and a murderer catches up with the circus.

While The Road to Gundagai is the third book in the Matilda Saga, it - and all the others (there are more to come too) - can each be read as a stand-alone book. The first book, A Waltz for Matilda, introduces readers to Miss Matilda as a child in 1894 and ends in 1915; the second, The Girl From Snowy River, is about Flinty McAlpine in 1919 till 1926; her brothers appear in Gundagai, as does Matilda from the first book. The next book will be set in 1942, during World War II, and the fifth in 1969.

But this is Blue's story, and I have to say right here, right now, that it's an excellent, wonderful, exciting, perfectly-written story that's easily one of the best teen novels I've ever read, and one of the best books I've ever read, too. I can't recommend this book highly enough, I am utterly in love with it and I know I would have loved it as a teenager as well.

Jackie French was previously known to me as a picture book author - her Diary of a Wombat is a modern-day Australian classic. But I had no idea until recently that she also wrote fiction, primarily for Young Adults and older children. I sought out her books one day and found a whole section in Petrarch's in Launceston, a bit tucked away sadly but completely devoted to Jackie French novels. They didn't have A Waltz for Matilda or The Girl From Snowy River, but I had already planned on reading this and was thrilled to find they had a few copies. I mean, who doesn't love circus stories? Stories about orphan girls being poisoned by wicked aunts? Stories about elephants who love to steal jewellery and have their own teddy bear? Stories about adventure and young love, mystery and treachery and family secrets? The Road to Gundagai has it all, and what's even better is that the writing is so ... flawless.

It's extremely rare for me - in my jaded, too-often-cynical 30s - to find a book, especially a YA novel, that doesn't annoy me in some small way, or feel a bit simplistic or unpolished or with weak world-building or characterisation or plotting. There's almost always something that stops me from really, truly loving a YA novel. One of the reasons why French's writing reads with such confidence and vitality and realism, is that she's practiced and experienced enough to know her own writing style and be comfortable in it: there's no pretensions here, no awkward turns-of-phrase in an attempt to be original, and no present tense! French is skilled at bringing her characters to life with just the right amount of detail, and the pacing is swift and sure so that you never get bored nor feel rushed. Like many of the characters, the story itself is full of charisma. It's completely absorbing and engaging, and just beautiful to read.

The story is also rich in period details, and setting. There is a handy appendix at the back for younger readers that gives concise and interesting explanations and insight into many of the things in the book, but if you already have the context and a general understanding of the Depression you can really revel in the fine details of life in a circus in Australia during the 1930s. Throughout the story, there's the running theme of what a circus - or any kind of theatrical performance - can bring people living in poverty, who spend what they can for a bit of glitter, a gasp and a laugh.

'And tomorrow, Gertrude will ride Sheba with Belle through the shanties before Ebenezer takes her down to the sea for her swim.'
Gertrude's face appeared at the caravan door. She gave them all a swift angry look. 'I practise in the mornings.'
'One practice cut short will do no harm. You will be Gloria and Belle will be a dancer.' Madame shook her head. 'The mermaid would please them more, but a mermaid on an elephant is not believable. Best they keep the image from tonight. But wear the jewels. They deserve another sight of jewels. The children will tell their children.' Madame stared into the darkness. Her voice was soft. 'When they talk about these years they will not say, "We shivered in the wind with sacking walls, we ate stale bread and drank buttermilk," but, "One night I saw a fairy fly across a tent. I saw a mermaid swim, and wave her tail at me."' [p.158]


Balancing the dark tones is light and laughter, warmth and friendship. Blue finds love, too, and so does the reader: if you don't fall in love with Sheba the elephant, I shall be very much surprised. It should come as no surprise, of course, that French can write an elephant character so damn well.

Enriched with themes of economics and politics, class divides and gender imbalance, the story of Blue growing, maturing and really coming into her own is an absolute delight. She becomes a confident young woman with skills only the circus could have taught her - along with the nurturing of her circus family. There are moments of sadness and tears, and moments of bravery and resilience. Through it all, Blue is a strong heroine and protagonist you will come to love, along with all the other characters, so diverse and full of surprises. If I haven't won you over yet and made you eager to pick up this wonderful, wonderful book and read it today, then that's a lack in me and not in Jackie French's skill as a storyteller. For myself, I plan to read her entire backlist of novels and discover more gems.]]> 4.37 2013 The Road to Gundagai (Matilda Saga, #3)
author: Jackie French
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.37
book published: 2013
rating: 5
read at: 2013/12/21
date added: 2018/03/13
shelves: ya, australian-women-writers, historical-fiction, aww2013, 2013, favourite, coming-of-age
review:
Victoria, 1932. On her sixteenth birthday, Bluebell "Blue" Laurence looks in the mirror of her bedroom in her aunt's rented house in Willow Creek, and sees a monster. The scars from the fire cover her neck, and her red hair is falling out. She can barely walk, reduced to a clumsy shuffle because of scar tissue joining her thighs together. Her aunts, Daisy and Lilac, whisked her away not long after the fire to this house in the country, where they feed her detestable liver custard and tapioca. Her only company is the young Chinese servant girl, Mah, who rescued her from the fire at her parents' house.

Orphaned after her parents and baby brother, Willy, die when their ship sinks en route back from South Africa, Blue is kept in ignorance of the state of her family's affairs. Her father was the manager for her grandfather's shoe factory, Laurence Shoes, and she assumes their house burned down in the fire, but no one actually talks to her, not even her Uncle Herbert, who sends her chocolates and some money for her birthday.

With the ten pounds from her uncle, Blue sneaks out at night to see the circus that just arrived in town. The Magnifico Family Circus is a one-night-only event, and Blue enjoys seeing through the trickery in the sideshow tents and trying to guess how things were done. But it's in the Big Top that she really enjoys herself, watching the acrobatic displays and the elephant, called the Queen of Sheba. Led by the indomitable and very talented Madame - of no known name or age - the Magnifico Family Circus is a small group of skilled performers who take on several roles to make the circus feel bigger and more glamorous. Aside from Madame, the fortune-teller, there's Mrs Olsen, her daughter Gertrude and her young son Ginger, who are trapeze artists, and handsome young Fred who plays the bearded lady and many other roles. And there's the middle-aged brothers, Ebenezer and Ephraim, who play the Ring Master and the clown, respectively, among other things, and manage the heavy work.

Her aunts arrive to take her home during the intermission, and lock her in her bedroom for the rest of the night. It is when the house is quiet and everyone asleep - everyone but Blue, who tries not to panic at the thought of being trapped in the room - that there's a tap at her window. The circus has come to break her free, rescue her and hide her in plain sight. Madame, in her inscrutable way, has knowledge that Blue is being poisoned with arsenic - the hair loss is a sure sign. She wagers Blue has barely weeks left to live, and even though Blue resists the idea that her aunts could be trying to kill her, it starts to make a strange sort of sense. Especially when, from the very next day, she stops vomiting and starts feeling better.

It is a long road to full recovery for Blue, though, and in the meantime she's a runaway with the police looking for her. The circus is skilled at hiding people in plain sight, though, and soon Blue is masquerading as a boy when she's not performing as a harem dancer or a mermaid called Belle. Over the next few years Blue finds a new home in the circus, and a new family among the eclectic Magnifico family. Her only guiding thought is to wait till she's of age and can be financially and legally independent; until then, she plans to stay with the circus.

But Blue has no control over the way of the world, or the effect the Depression will indirectly have on the circus and the fate of her new family. It is at the small rural town of Gibber's Creek in 1935 that their luck runs out and Blue's carefree days of performing in a circus come to an end. It is there they meet Miss Matilda, owner of Drinkwater Station, and her husband who runs the nearby wireless factory. It is at Drinkwater that the circus's real secrets come to light and Blue realises just how clever they all are at multiple duplicity. And it is at Drinkwater that a murder and a murderer catches up with the circus.

While The Road to Gundagai is the third book in the Matilda Saga, it - and all the others (there are more to come too) - can each be read as a stand-alone book. The first book, A Waltz for Matilda, introduces readers to Miss Matilda as a child in 1894 and ends in 1915; the second, The Girl From Snowy River, is about Flinty McAlpine in 1919 till 1926; her brothers appear in Gundagai, as does Matilda from the first book. The next book will be set in 1942, during World War II, and the fifth in 1969.

But this is Blue's story, and I have to say right here, right now, that it's an excellent, wonderful, exciting, perfectly-written story that's easily one of the best teen novels I've ever read, and one of the best books I've ever read, too. I can't recommend this book highly enough, I am utterly in love with it and I know I would have loved it as a teenager as well.

Jackie French was previously known to me as a picture book author - her Diary of a Wombat is a modern-day Australian classic. But I had no idea until recently that she also wrote fiction, primarily for Young Adults and older children. I sought out her books one day and found a whole section in Petrarch's in Launceston, a bit tucked away sadly but completely devoted to Jackie French novels. They didn't have A Waltz for Matilda or The Girl From Snowy River, but I had already planned on reading this and was thrilled to find they had a few copies. I mean, who doesn't love circus stories? Stories about orphan girls being poisoned by wicked aunts? Stories about elephants who love to steal jewellery and have their own teddy bear? Stories about adventure and young love, mystery and treachery and family secrets? The Road to Gundagai has it all, and what's even better is that the writing is so ... flawless.

It's extremely rare for me - in my jaded, too-often-cynical 30s - to find a book, especially a YA novel, that doesn't annoy me in some small way, or feel a bit simplistic or unpolished or with weak world-building or characterisation or plotting. There's almost always something that stops me from really, truly loving a YA novel. One of the reasons why French's writing reads with such confidence and vitality and realism, is that she's practiced and experienced enough to know her own writing style and be comfortable in it: there's no pretensions here, no awkward turns-of-phrase in an attempt to be original, and no present tense! French is skilled at bringing her characters to life with just the right amount of detail, and the pacing is swift and sure so that you never get bored nor feel rushed. Like many of the characters, the story itself is full of charisma. It's completely absorbing and engaging, and just beautiful to read.

The story is also rich in period details, and setting. There is a handy appendix at the back for younger readers that gives concise and interesting explanations and insight into many of the things in the book, but if you already have the context and a general understanding of the Depression you can really revel in the fine details of life in a circus in Australia during the 1930s. Throughout the story, there's the running theme of what a circus - or any kind of theatrical performance - can bring people living in poverty, who spend what they can for a bit of glitter, a gasp and a laugh.

'And tomorrow, Gertrude will ride Sheba with Belle through the shanties before Ebenezer takes her down to the sea for her swim.'
Gertrude's face appeared at the caravan door. She gave them all a swift angry look. 'I practise in the mornings.'
'One practice cut short will do no harm. You will be Gloria and Belle will be a dancer.' Madame shook her head. 'The mermaid would please them more, but a mermaid on an elephant is not believable. Best they keep the image from tonight. But wear the jewels. They deserve another sight of jewels. The children will tell their children.' Madame stared into the darkness. Her voice was soft. 'When they talk about these years they will not say, "We shivered in the wind with sacking walls, we ate stale bread and drank buttermilk," but, "One night I saw a fairy fly across a tent. I saw a mermaid swim, and wave her tail at me."' [p.158]


Balancing the dark tones is light and laughter, warmth and friendship. Blue finds love, too, and so does the reader: if you don't fall in love with Sheba the elephant, I shall be very much surprised. It should come as no surprise, of course, that French can write an elephant character so damn well.

Enriched with themes of economics and politics, class divides and gender imbalance, the story of Blue growing, maturing and really coming into her own is an absolute delight. She becomes a confident young woman with skills only the circus could have taught her - along with the nurturing of her circus family. There are moments of sadness and tears, and moments of bravery and resilience. Through it all, Blue is a strong heroine and protagonist you will come to love, along with all the other characters, so diverse and full of surprises. If I haven't won you over yet and made you eager to pick up this wonderful, wonderful book and read it today, then that's a lack in me and not in Jackie French's skill as a storyteller. For myself, I plan to read her entire backlist of novels and discover more gems.
]]> Silly billy 3079320
Book PaperbackPublication 11/5/2007 32]]> 32 Anthony Browne 1406305766 Shannon 4 Piggybook - the one about the fed-up mother leaving her husband and sons to fend for themselves (and they're so hopeless they turn into pigs, and have to beg her to come home and promise not to take her for granted anymore) - so many times, it was a real favourite of everyone in grade 1!

Silly Billy is about a small boy called Billy who worries a lot. He worries about hats, shoes, clouds, rain and giant birds. His parents try to comfort him but nothing they say actually help. Then one day he goes to stay at his grandmother's, and he was especially worried about staying at other people's houses. He tells his grandma, and she has just the thing to help: worry dolls. She tells Billy to tell each doll one of his worries and put them under his pillow. It works, and for several nights Billy has wonderful worry-free sleep.

But then, he worries about the worry dolls, having to deal with all the worry he put on them. So he makes the worry dolls their own worry dolls, to share their worries with. No one worried after that, and Billy continued to make worry dolls for the worry dolls.

Paired with Browne's well-known, richly detailed illustrations that often hide clever little details, Silly Billy is a solid story that children will easily relate to. Ideal for kids who are of a similar age to Billy and starting to worry, themselves, the trick of using worry dolls could be very handy - though what it's really saying is that you should share your worries with someone you trust, and it might lighten the burden.



The illustrations are just gorgeous, and the story is wonderful too - simple, but meaningful and realistic, and given a touch of fantasy, Browne-style. ]]> 3.99 2006 Silly billy
author: Anthony Browne
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.99
book published: 2006
rating: 4
read at: 2013/12/26
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: childrens, picture-book, 2013, gift
review:
It's been years since I read an Anthony Browne book, but his picture books were staples of my primary school library, I must have read Piggybook - the one about the fed-up mother leaving her husband and sons to fend for themselves (and they're so hopeless they turn into pigs, and have to beg her to come home and promise not to take her for granted anymore) - so many times, it was a real favourite of everyone in grade 1!

Silly Billy is about a small boy called Billy who worries a lot. He worries about hats, shoes, clouds, rain and giant birds. His parents try to comfort him but nothing they say actually help. Then one day he goes to stay at his grandmother's, and he was especially worried about staying at other people's houses. He tells his grandma, and she has just the thing to help: worry dolls. She tells Billy to tell each doll one of his worries and put them under his pillow. It works, and for several nights Billy has wonderful worry-free sleep.

But then, he worries about the worry dolls, having to deal with all the worry he put on them. So he makes the worry dolls their own worry dolls, to share their worries with. No one worried after that, and Billy continued to make worry dolls for the worry dolls.

Paired with Browne's well-known, richly detailed illustrations that often hide clever little details, Silly Billy is a solid story that children will easily relate to. Ideal for kids who are of a similar age to Billy and starting to worry, themselves, the trick of using worry dolls could be very handy - though what it's really saying is that you should share your worries with someone you trust, and it might lighten the burden.



The illustrations are just gorgeous, and the story is wonderful too - simple, but meaningful and realistic, and given a touch of fantasy, Browne-style.
]]> Sebastian Lives in A Hat 5473103 Thelma Catterwell 1862913498 Shannon 4
The illustrations, by Kerry Argent, fill in the gaps in the text. When we're told, for instance, that "Sometimes Sebastian has to change his brown hat for a grey hat. We won't say why. But when the brown hat is dry Sebastian has it back again and he is happy." The illustration to complement this shows his daggy brown hat hanging on the clothesline.

The style of the text is reminiscent of a child's voice. It reminds me of those little segments on that follow a primary-school-aged child on an excursion somewhere-or-other, and the kid narrates. Simple sentences, automatically cute and endearing, with that touch of wisdom.

Wombats are such wonderful, quietly charismatic creatures, and reading about Sebastian and how the family cared for him is a real delight.]]> 4.00 1985 Sebastian Lives in A Hat
author: Thelma Catterwell
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.00
book published: 1985
rating: 4
read at: 2013/10/16
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, australian-women-writers, picture-book, aww2013
review:
This is a bit of a classic, if a sleepy one. It's the non-rhyming story of Sebastian, a baby wombat who was rescued from his mother's pouch after she was hit by a car. They keep him in a brown woollen hat and the story details all the things they do to care for him and how well he's growing.

The illustrations, by Kerry Argent, fill in the gaps in the text. When we're told, for instance, that "Sometimes Sebastian has to change his brown hat for a grey hat. We won't say why. But when the brown hat is dry Sebastian has it back again and he is happy." The illustration to complement this shows his daggy brown hat hanging on the clothesline.

The style of the text is reminiscent of a child's voice. It reminds me of those little segments on that follow a primary-school-aged child on an excursion somewhere-or-other, and the kid narrates. Simple sentences, automatically cute and endearing, with that touch of wisdom.

Wombats are such wonderful, quietly charismatic creatures, and reading about Sebastian and how the family cared for him is a real delight.
]]> I Went Walking 124059 A young child goes for a walk and discovers a colourful parade of animals along the way. “What a charmer. . . . An excellent story hour choice.”--Booklist
]]> 32 Sue Machin 186291320X Shannon 4 Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? because it uses the same tune and has similar lines:

I went walking.
What did you see?
I saw a black cat
Looking at me.

I went walking.
What did you see?
I saw a brown horse
Looking at me.

The difference here is that it's about a little kid - boy or girl, who knows and who cares? - wandering about a farm, and all the animals are ones you'd find there and are realistic colours. The animals keep following the child and on the very last page is a drawing of them all dancing together. It's very sweet!

My two-year-old really likes this one, and it'd be great with younger toddlers and one-year-olds too. It's good for animal and colour vocab and Julie Vivas's beautiful watercolour illustrations are so lovely (I think of her as Mem Fox's illustrator, because as a kid they always seemed to work together - Possum Magic, Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge for example - so whenever I see Vivas illustrations I think I've found a Mem Fox book!).]]> 3.60 1989 I Went Walking
author: Sue Machin
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.60
book published: 1989
rating: 4
read at: 2013/10/16
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, picture-book, classics, australian-women-writers, aww2013
review:
This simple sing-song story from 1989 is similar to Bill Martin Jr's Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? because it uses the same tune and has similar lines:

I went walking.
What did you see?
I saw a black cat
Looking at me.

I went walking.
What did you see?
I saw a brown horse
Looking at me.

The difference here is that it's about a little kid - boy or girl, who knows and who cares? - wandering about a farm, and all the animals are ones you'd find there and are realistic colours. The animals keep following the child and on the very last page is a drawing of them all dancing together. It's very sweet!

My two-year-old really likes this one, and it'd be great with younger toddlers and one-year-olds too. It's good for animal and colour vocab and Julie Vivas's beautiful watercolour illustrations are so lovely (I think of her as Mem Fox's illustrator, because as a kid they always seemed to work together - Possum Magic, Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge for example - so whenever I see Vivas illustrations I think I've found a Mem Fox book!).
]]> Welcome Home 18242050 32 Christina Booth 1925000087 Shannon 5
All this I learned from the last pages of 's beautiful new picture book, Welcome Home. I had never heard of the right whale before - sadly, a whale is a whale to me, for while I admire and respect them, I've never spent any time looking them up and learning about the different species and their attributes. Booth's story was inspired, she says, by an article she read "about a southern right whale that swam into Hobart's Derwent River and gave birth. This was the first birth there in over 190 years." Once a safe - and mostly deserted - place for these whales to have their calves, it became a busy port full of whaling ships.

Welcome Home is about a boy living in Hobart, the capital city of Tasmania, who hears the whale's call "echoing off the mountain like a whisper while the moon danced on the waves." No one else hears it, but he does - and in her call he learns sad truths, the history of whale hunting and her yearning for a safe harbour.

I hear her story.
She is telling of her fear and darkness.

Her story turns inside my head,
and twists around my heart
and I don't want to listen anymore.
I want to run away and hide but I stay,
looking for her in the cold winter dawn.

Then, as dark shifts to grey, I see her.

She looks for me and comes in closer to the shore.

'We wanted to come home
but we did not feel safe,' she says.
'Why did they hurt us?
Why did they send us away?'

I hang my head.
It wasn't me, but I know what she means.

I do not know what to say.
I have no words to tell her.

'Sorry,' I whisper.


Accompanied by truly beautiful illustrations that flow through water and time and dreams and one boy's sadness, the story works on more than one level. For children, it both educates and engages the imagination, drawing connections between past and present as well as the future. It navigates that grey area between past wrongs and present responsibilities, and shows deep empathy for these magnificent ocean mammals.







More than that, even, it uses the story of the right whale to help children work through those feelings of responsibility, and blame. In Australia's past history and present affairs, there are many examples of wrongs being committed against certain peoples - the Aborigines, and boat people, for example, not to mention the environment. And there are issues that we care about and want to do something about but feel useless, hopeless. Young children are just starting on this very human journey of trying to understand the complex nuances of human cruelty: why people do bad things, what role we can play in correcting injustices, and that the majority isn't always right. It's a long journey and it doesn't always end well, but Booth's Welcome Home does an admirable job of opening that conversation, of starting the wheels turning and of doing it in a way that children of various ages would respond well to. In many ways, it's easier - simpler - for children to connect with animals and animal stories, than human ones.

This is ideal for slightly older children, ones who haven't grown out of picture books but are old enough to understand the stories in the pictures. I got this for my two-year-old son, Hugh; haven't read it to him yet as it's for Christmas, and while he's old enough to follow and enjoy the story on some levels, he'll be too young yet for the deeper meanings. Still, that's no reason not to read it to him, and over the years his understanding of the story will deepen and in turn enrich his own learning of the world. This is why I love picture books, and as an adult still love them.

I am in awe of authors like Christina Booth, not just for the beautiful artwork or for being able to tell a powerful, rich story in just a few pages and several lines of text, but for using the picture book medium not to tell a silly, fun story but to teach, and broaden kids' understanding, and open their eyes and minds to the wider world and the stories it contains. That's not to say that there isn't a place for the fun stories, or that I don't enjoy them, but it's a great idea to balance them with really meaningful works like Welcome Home.]]> 4.29 2013 Welcome Home
author: Christina Booth
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.29
book published: 2013
rating: 5
read at: 2013/11/28
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: australian-women-writers, picture-book, 2013, aww2013, childrens, gift
review:
During the early years of colonisation in Australia, the captains of convict ships as well as whaling boats were encouraged to kill whales - especially the "right whale", so called because they were considered the "right" whale to hunt. The Southern right whale - or baleen whale - have been a protected species since 1935, but before then over 26,000 of them were killed by European settlers. They are playful mammals who have young only once every three years, and their carcasses were used to make everything from oil to umbrellas, weaving looms to fabrics.

All this I learned from the last pages of 's beautiful new picture book, Welcome Home. I had never heard of the right whale before - sadly, a whale is a whale to me, for while I admire and respect them, I've never spent any time looking them up and learning about the different species and their attributes. Booth's story was inspired, she says, by an article she read "about a southern right whale that swam into Hobart's Derwent River and gave birth. This was the first birth there in over 190 years." Once a safe - and mostly deserted - place for these whales to have their calves, it became a busy port full of whaling ships.

Welcome Home is about a boy living in Hobart, the capital city of Tasmania, who hears the whale's call "echoing off the mountain like a whisper while the moon danced on the waves." No one else hears it, but he does - and in her call he learns sad truths, the history of whale hunting and her yearning for a safe harbour.

I hear her story.
She is telling of her fear and darkness.

Her story turns inside my head,
and twists around my heart
and I don't want to listen anymore.
I want to run away and hide but I stay,
looking for her in the cold winter dawn.

Then, as dark shifts to grey, I see her.

She looks for me and comes in closer to the shore.

'We wanted to come home
but we did not feel safe,' she says.
'Why did they hurt us?
Why did they send us away?'

I hang my head.
It wasn't me, but I know what she means.

I do not know what to say.
I have no words to tell her.

'Sorry,' I whisper.


Accompanied by truly beautiful illustrations that flow through water and time and dreams and one boy's sadness, the story works on more than one level. For children, it both educates and engages the imagination, drawing connections between past and present as well as the future. It navigates that grey area between past wrongs and present responsibilities, and shows deep empathy for these magnificent ocean mammals.







More than that, even, it uses the story of the right whale to help children work through those feelings of responsibility, and blame. In Australia's past history and present affairs, there are many examples of wrongs being committed against certain peoples - the Aborigines, and boat people, for example, not to mention the environment. And there are issues that we care about and want to do something about but feel useless, hopeless. Young children are just starting on this very human journey of trying to understand the complex nuances of human cruelty: why people do bad things, what role we can play in correcting injustices, and that the majority isn't always right. It's a long journey and it doesn't always end well, but Booth's Welcome Home does an admirable job of opening that conversation, of starting the wheels turning and of doing it in a way that children of various ages would respond well to. In many ways, it's easier - simpler - for children to connect with animals and animal stories, than human ones.

This is ideal for slightly older children, ones who haven't grown out of picture books but are old enough to understand the stories in the pictures. I got this for my two-year-old son, Hugh; haven't read it to him yet as it's for Christmas, and while he's old enough to follow and enjoy the story on some levels, he'll be too young yet for the deeper meanings. Still, that's no reason not to read it to him, and over the years his understanding of the story will deepen and in turn enrich his own learning of the world. This is why I love picture books, and as an adult still love them.

I am in awe of authors like Christina Booth, not just for the beautiful artwork or for being able to tell a powerful, rich story in just a few pages and several lines of text, but for using the picture book medium not to tell a silly, fun story but to teach, and broaden kids' understanding, and open their eyes and minds to the wider world and the stories it contains. That's not to say that there isn't a place for the fun stories, or that I don't enjoy them, but it's a great idea to balance them with really meaningful works like Welcome Home.
]]> Never Tease a Weasel 9907378 40 Jean Conder Soule 037587285X Shannon 5 2013, picture-book
This is one of those rhyming stories that has no plot, just a series of scenarios that are quite ludicrous but, in the context of the book, okay to do - just as long as you never tease a weasel!

You could make a riding habit
For a rabbit if you choose;
Or make a turkey perky
With a pair of high-heeled shoes.

Essentially the book differentiates between things that are harmless fun, or just plain silly, and things that are mean - like teasing a weasel. In the end, it's better to make friends with the weasel (and watch telly with him, as in the picture). It's not that the book gives a good reason for not teasing people, but it stresses that no one likes being teased (i.e. picked on, which is just shy of bullying) and that it's more fun to be friends than to pick on others.
]]> 4.40 1964 Never Tease a Weasel
author: Jean Conder Soule
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.40
book published: 1964
rating: 5
read at: 2013/09/12
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, picture-book
review:
I kept seeing this book in the window of my local secondhand bookshop, and the title kept catching my eye so of course I had to go in and check it out - and it is just as engaging as I had hoped. I am sorry I didn't have a chance to scan some of the pages to show you George Booth's quirky and captivating, Quentin-Blake-esque illustrations, for they really connect with the text in a way that makes the original (with illustrator Denman Hampson) seem a bit hum-drum.

This is one of those rhyming stories that has no plot, just a series of scenarios that are quite ludicrous but, in the context of the book, okay to do - just as long as you never tease a weasel!

You could make a riding habit
For a rabbit if you choose;
Or make a turkey perky
With a pair of high-heeled shoes.

Essentially the book differentiates between things that are harmless fun, or just plain silly, and things that are mean - like teasing a weasel. In the end, it's better to make friends with the weasel (and watch telly with him, as in the picture). It's not that the book gives a good reason for not teasing people, but it stresses that no one likes being teased (i.e. picked on, which is just shy of bullying) and that it's more fun to be friends than to pick on others.

]]> Olga the Brolga 10158438 Olga the brolga is in a terrible mood. She desperately wants to dance-but no one will dance with her. Her parents have other things to do, Ellie the crocodile doesn't feel like jumping around and Joanna Jacana only wants to sleep. As for Lilly the long-neck, well, she's a bit grumpy, too! So Olga decides to dance by herself; and when she does, something absolutely wonderful happens . . .

Olga the Brolga is an exquisitely illustrated story with an endearing main character who teaches children the value of being an individual. It is a tale that will delight children and adults alike.

The award-winning illustrator of the immensely popular Edward the Emu

, Rod Clement has been published in the USA, Europe and Australia.]]> 32 Rod Clement 020719758X Shannon 5 2013, picture-book
The story is told in a slight sing-song rhyme, nothing too formal and structured but that, for the most part, rolls off the tongue easily (there are a couple of awkward spots that take a while to get the hang of). The story itself reminds me a bit of Giles Andreae picture book, - the tune is the same and the story is similar.

Olga the Brolga (a type of long-legged bird) wants to go dancing, but no one will dance with her. Her parents just want to eat their breakfast and tell her to go and ask her friends. Her friends are too tired, and everyone's getting a bit annoyed with Olga and her demands. She's a bit selfish and whiny and bossy, and not much fun to be around these days.



So Olga decides to shut up and just start dancing. She's having so much fun that soon others come to watch and they start joining in. There's a cute little moral:

Olga stayed silent,
she said not a word.
Sometimes it's better
To be seen and not heard.
[...]
Olga was tired,
but happy at last.
She'd got what she wanted
without having asked.

A simple story, nicely told and beautifully illustrated. I can see why Clement wins awards for his work.]]> 3.87 2004 Olga the Brolga
author: Rod Clement
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.87
book published: 2004
rating: 5
read at: 2013/10/15
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, picture-book
review:
This is a newer Australian picture book, written and illustrated by Clement whose day-job is cartoonist for one of the big national newspapers. His illustration style is what really caught me eye, I'm really drawn to this style of artwork in picture books. It has a high level of fine detail, rich colours, is very vibrant and visually captivating, and the scenes are original - they're not obvious, or flat, angles or perspectives.

The story is told in a slight sing-song rhyme, nothing too formal and structured but that, for the most part, rolls off the tongue easily (there are a couple of awkward spots that take a while to get the hang of). The story itself reminds me a bit of Giles Andreae picture book, - the tune is the same and the story is similar.

Olga the Brolga (a type of long-legged bird) wants to go dancing, but no one will dance with her. Her parents just want to eat their breakfast and tell her to go and ask her friends. Her friends are too tired, and everyone's getting a bit annoyed with Olga and her demands. She's a bit selfish and whiny and bossy, and not much fun to be around these days.



So Olga decides to shut up and just start dancing. She's having so much fun that soon others come to watch and they start joining in. There's a cute little moral:

Olga stayed silent,
she said not a word.
Sometimes it's better
To be seen and not heard.
[...]
Olga was tired,
but happy at last.
She'd got what she wanted
without having asked.

A simple story, nicely told and beautifully illustrated. I can see why Clement wins awards for his work.
]]> Snug as a hug 18655533
Join all the Australian animal as they settle down to rest. A warm story for bedtime sharing.]]> 24 Marcia K. Vaughan Shannon 5 Joey is sleeping curled
up in Mum's pouch.
Koala is resting on a
limb like a couch.

Turtle is dreaming
far out in the sea
Cockatoo is yawning
high up in a tree.

The rhymes are just beautiful in this book; as is appropriate for a "going to bed" book, a lullaby book, the text is very soothing to read. It has the rhythm of gentle waves, is what it reminds me of.

Pamela Lofts' illustrations are colourful and vivid and striking, while also being soft and slightly hallucinogenic. Silvery and glowing, strong but also somehow out of focus - no doubt due to the use of pencils and her style. It suits the book perfectly, and the animals - all native to Australia (except the dingo) - are rendered with loving detail.

The last page reads "I love you ... I love you ... I love you ... Sleep tight." My two-year-old sometimes says this to me as we're getting him into his pyjamas, and I love it every time he repeats lines from a book - especially this line!]]> 3.75 2010 Snug as a hug
author: Marcia K. Vaughan
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.75
book published: 2010
rating: 5
read at: 2013/10/08
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, australian-women-writers, picture-book, aww2013, gift
review:
Joey is sleeping curled
up in Mum's pouch.
Koala is resting on a
limb like a couch.

Turtle is dreaming
far out in the sea
Cockatoo is yawning
high up in a tree.

The rhymes are just beautiful in this book; as is appropriate for a "going to bed" book, a lullaby book, the text is very soothing to read. It has the rhythm of gentle waves, is what it reminds me of.

Pamela Lofts' illustrations are colourful and vivid and striking, while also being soft and slightly hallucinogenic. Silvery and glowing, strong but also somehow out of focus - no doubt due to the use of pencils and her style. It suits the book perfectly, and the animals - all native to Australia (except the dingo) - are rendered with loving detail.

The last page reads "I love you ... I love you ... I love you ... Sleep tight." My two-year-old sometimes says this to me as we're getting him into his pyjamas, and I love it every time he repeats lines from a book - especially this line!
]]> The Great Lollipop Caper 18176428
Jealousy rears its little, green, wrinkled head as Mr. Caper plots to become the most loved flavor of all.]]> 44 Dan Krall 1442444606 Shannon 4
This is a picture book for older kids, but of course when it arrived in the mail I had to read it to my two-year-old, Hugh. He was very attentive and when I'd ad-lib commentary and explain things in the pictures, he'd say "yeah" in that cute "I totally understand I just don't have the vocabulary to say more" way - which I then translate into "I have no idea what that really means but I'm interested and want to encourage you to keep reading."

The story reminds me a lot of Dreamworks or Pixar animated movies, because of the style of illustration (a blend of computer animated stills and drawings), and also of Spongebob Squarepants because Mr Caper reminded me so much of Plankton, who's always trying to steal Mr Krab's crabby-patty recipe. Mr Caper is "a tiny pickled sourpuss", much loved by adults but shunned by children, who instead love lollipops. Mr Caper has a problem. He's super jealous of Lollipop, and he doesn't care that adults admire his "acidic earthiness". He wants to be loved by children for his "complex flavor" and he has a plan to make it happen!

The Great Lollipop Caper is a perfectly silly story with a heart of gold, and with the style of illustrations and the nature of the story itself - not to mention that the main characters are food - I'm sure kids will really enjoy this. It has nuance and Mr Caper comes out as a sympathetic character at the end (brings to mind that oft-repeated adage, "you'll understand when you're older": "you'll like complex flavours like capers when you're older"!). It's about finding your place, appreciating what you have and the people who love you, and even directing your energies in healthy directions! But it's also a fun, amusing story about a lonely, unloved (so he thinks) little caper who hatches an evil plan that seriously backfires, and what he learns from the whole debacle. Good stuff.
]]> 3.71 2013 The Great Lollipop Caper
author: Dan Krall
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.71
book published: 2013
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/23
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: picture-book, won-it, childrens, 2013
review:
I won this book from , a parenting website, when they hosted (check out the website, it's a great site not just for Canadian parents but anyone with little ones, and they also include regular giveaways).

This is a picture book for older kids, but of course when it arrived in the mail I had to read it to my two-year-old, Hugh. He was very attentive and when I'd ad-lib commentary and explain things in the pictures, he'd say "yeah" in that cute "I totally understand I just don't have the vocabulary to say more" way - which I then translate into "I have no idea what that really means but I'm interested and want to encourage you to keep reading."

The story reminds me a lot of Dreamworks or Pixar animated movies, because of the style of illustration (a blend of computer animated stills and drawings), and also of Spongebob Squarepants because Mr Caper reminded me so much of Plankton, who's always trying to steal Mr Krab's crabby-patty recipe. Mr Caper is "a tiny pickled sourpuss", much loved by adults but shunned by children, who instead love lollipops. Mr Caper has a problem. He's super jealous of Lollipop, and he doesn't care that adults admire his "acidic earthiness". He wants to be loved by children for his "complex flavor" and he has a plan to make it happen!

The Great Lollipop Caper is a perfectly silly story with a heart of gold, and with the style of illustrations and the nature of the story itself - not to mention that the main characters are food - I'm sure kids will really enjoy this. It has nuance and Mr Caper comes out as a sympathetic character at the end (brings to mind that oft-repeated adage, "you'll understand when you're older": "you'll like complex flavours like capers when you're older"!). It's about finding your place, appreciating what you have and the people who love you, and even directing your energies in healthy directions! But it's also a fun, amusing story about a lonely, unloved (so he thinks) little caper who hatches an evil plan that seriously backfires, and what he learns from the whole debacle. Good stuff.

]]> A Treasury of Curious George 141936
In this hefty 192-page hardcover treasury, the eight stories are illustrated in the charcoal style of H.A. Rey by Martha Weston and Vipah Interactive*:

'Curious George Takes a Train' (2002);
'Curious George Visits a Toy Store' (2002);
'Curious George and the Dump Truck' (1999);
'Curious George and the Birthday Surprise' (2003);
'Curious George Goes Camping' (1999;
'Curious George Goes to a Costume Party' (2001);
'Curious George Visits the Library' (2003);
'Curious George in the Big City' (2001).

A wonderful collection for your own mischievous monkey. For more monkey fun, investigate and discover all the latest on Curious George books, promotions, games, activities, and more!

* Vipah Interactive comprises of: C Becker, D Fakkel, M Jensen, S SanGiacomo, C Witte and C Yu.]]> 198 Margret Rey 0618538224 Shannon 4 obsession - with "the George book" continues. This is the second book of collected stories I've added to his ever-expanding library (I have one more to give him, which I'm saving for our 21-hour-long plane ride as a surprise!), and he quickly embraced it with just as much love as he did (the yellow one).

The stories in this volume are:
Curious George Takes a Train (2002)
Curious George Visits a Toy Store (2002)
Curious George and the Dump Truck (1999)
Curious George and the Birthday Surprise (2003)
Curious George Goes Camping (1999)
Curious George Goes to a Costume Party (2001)
Curious George Visits the Library (2003)
Curious George in the Big City (2001)

Again, I don't really know/understand who exactly wrote these stories, which are based on Margret and HA Rey's character, and the illustrators are all different, but for as much as adults (including myself and my husband) get incredibly weary of reading these stories over and over again, I have at least realised and come to appreciate the value Hugh is getting from them. Part of the reason why we don't enjoy reading these stories is that the text is rather tiresome, quite slow and sometimes even a bit ridiculous or awkward.

But I realised fairly recently that the text also covers some serious grammatical ground. All the tenses are included, there are lots of variations on the way you can say something, there are expressions and common phrases that are very much a part of the English language, and all this great language teaching is wrapped up in a rather charming but naïve little monkey's antics - a character small children can really relate to as he often gets into trouble or makes a mess without meaning to, and people are angry with him sometimes but he's also helpful and shows how you can make up for your mistakes. He's small and doesn't understand everything about his (human) world, just like toddlers and other young children, and he just needs some space to figure things out. Curious George is the superhero-like character for young children, as in he fills that role until they grow out of him and turn to Batman etc. (Other picture book characters can fill this role too, of course. Curious George is the one my own son has connected with.)

So I try not to begrudge my boy the pleasure of George stories, even though I tend to go on auto-pilot when I read them and can actually compartmentalise my mind so that while one half of me is reading aloud the way I always do, with inflection and good pacing etc., the rest of me is thinking about completely different things. The text seems so bad to adults but it does serve a purpose, and for the most part it successfully connects the dots between the lively illustrations and the imaginations of a young audience.]]> 4.35 2004 A Treasury of Curious George
author: Margret Rey
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.35
book published: 2004
rating: 4
read at: 2013/08/28
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: picture-book, childrens, 2013, classics
review:
My two-year-old son Hugh's on-going love - nay, obsession - with "the George book" continues. This is the second book of collected stories I've added to his ever-expanding library (I have one more to give him, which I'm saving for our 21-hour-long plane ride as a surprise!), and he quickly embraced it with just as much love as he did (the yellow one).

The stories in this volume are:
Curious George Takes a Train (2002)
Curious George Visits a Toy Store (2002)
Curious George and the Dump Truck (1999)
Curious George and the Birthday Surprise (2003)
Curious George Goes Camping (1999)
Curious George Goes to a Costume Party (2001)
Curious George Visits the Library (2003)
Curious George in the Big City (2001)

Again, I don't really know/understand who exactly wrote these stories, which are based on Margret and HA Rey's character, and the illustrators are all different, but for as much as adults (including myself and my husband) get incredibly weary of reading these stories over and over again, I have at least realised and come to appreciate the value Hugh is getting from them. Part of the reason why we don't enjoy reading these stories is that the text is rather tiresome, quite slow and sometimes even a bit ridiculous or awkward.

But I realised fairly recently that the text also covers some serious grammatical ground. All the tenses are included, there are lots of variations on the way you can say something, there are expressions and common phrases that are very much a part of the English language, and all this great language teaching is wrapped up in a rather charming but naïve little monkey's antics - a character small children can really relate to as he often gets into trouble or makes a mess without meaning to, and people are angry with him sometimes but he's also helpful and shows how you can make up for your mistakes. He's small and doesn't understand everything about his (human) world, just like toddlers and other young children, and he just needs some space to figure things out. Curious George is the superhero-like character for young children, as in he fills that role until they grow out of him and turn to Batman etc. (Other picture book characters can fill this role too, of course. Curious George is the one my own son has connected with.)

So I try not to begrudge my boy the pleasure of George stories, even though I tend to go on auto-pilot when I read them and can actually compartmentalise my mind so that while one half of me is reading aloud the way I always do, with inflection and good pacing etc., the rest of me is thinking about completely different things. The text seems so bad to adults but it does serve a purpose, and for the most part it successfully connects the dots between the lively illustrations and the imaginations of a young audience.
]]> How to Catch a Star 6997719 26 Oliver Jeffers 0007324618 Shannon 5 2013, picture-book , the one where a lost penguin turns up on his doorstep and he tries to help it find its way home again - such a wonderful book! This one is just as delightful, and really captures the kids' imaginations.

In this story, the boy loves stars and wants one. He tries many different ways to catch a star, like climbing to the top of the tree to reach it, and comes up with some other ideas that turn out to be not so doable - like using his rocket ship to reach a star (except it's out of petrol from his last trip to the moon). The boy is persistent and determined, but an aura of sadness and loneliness surrounds him. He's very good at dealing with frustration and really thinks problems through, though he has a habit of asking birds for help and is always disappointed.

It has a happy ending, and the boy does get a star for a friend (or possibly just a washed-up dead starfish), but it's really interesting the range of emotions he goes through over the course of the story, and seeing how kids relate to them. Two-year-olds are especially attuned to characters from stories who become sad, and there is a scene where the boy is so forlorn and dejected that young readers are really concerned for him. All good signs of developing empathy.

Pair the sweet and ironic story with Jeffers' distinctive artistic illustrations, and you've got a really lovely book in your hands. This is one of those rare stories that I never get tired of reading - which is important, because my own two-year-old likes to have it read about three times in a row, in one sitting!
]]> 4.61 2004 How to Catch a Star
author: Oliver Jeffers
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.61
book published: 2004
rating: 5
read at: 2013/08/08
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, picture-book
review:
I love Oliver Jeffers' books, especially his series about the little boy, of which this is the first book. We had already read the next book, , the one where a lost penguin turns up on his doorstep and he tries to help it find its way home again - such a wonderful book! This one is just as delightful, and really captures the kids' imaginations.

In this story, the boy loves stars and wants one. He tries many different ways to catch a star, like climbing to the top of the tree to reach it, and comes up with some other ideas that turn out to be not so doable - like using his rocket ship to reach a star (except it's out of petrol from his last trip to the moon). The boy is persistent and determined, but an aura of sadness and loneliness surrounds him. He's very good at dealing with frustration and really thinks problems through, though he has a habit of asking birds for help and is always disappointed.

It has a happy ending, and the boy does get a star for a friend (or possibly just a washed-up dead starfish), but it's really interesting the range of emotions he goes through over the course of the story, and seeing how kids relate to them. Two-year-olds are especially attuned to characters from stories who become sad, and there is a scene where the boy is so forlorn and dejected that young readers are really concerned for him. All good signs of developing empathy.

Pair the sweet and ironic story with Jeffers' distinctive artistic illustrations, and you've got a really lovely book in your hands. This is one of those rare stories that I never get tired of reading - which is important, because my own two-year-old likes to have it read about three times in a row, in one sitting!

]]> Hop on Pop 909016
Full of short, simple words and silly rhymes, this book is perfect for reading alone or reading aloud with Dad!  The rollicking rhythm will keep kids entertained on every page.

HOP
POP
We like to Hop.
We like to hop
on top of Pop.

Bright and Early Board Books are simplified editions of your favorite Dr. Seuss stories, printed in a sturdy board format that’s perfect for little hands ages 0-3! At 4 ¼ x 5 ¾, they’re about 1/4 the size of the classic large format Seuss picture books like The Lorax and Oh, The Places You’ll Go! and ideal for babies and toddlers too young for the original stories.]]> 24 Dr. Seuss 0375828370 Shannon 4 There's A Wocket in My Pocket was full of made-up words for rhyme's sake, Hop On Pop is full of couplings for rhymes sake. The first pages go:

"UP PUP
Pup is up.

CUP PUP
Pup in cup.

PUP CUP
Cup on pup."

It pretty much follows that format all the way through, and I have to say, they aren't the easiest rhymes to say! Some of them are absolute tongue twisters, which I think was deliberate.

What's cool about it is how it's a grammar book in disguise. The kids I read this too are young toddlers, busy constructing simple sentences and learning vocabulary and prepositions, so this is quite timely I think. It shows all the different combinations - paired with Seuss's trademark lively illustrations - that you can make with a couple of simple words.

Things happen, too. Like the ball players who fall off the wall, or little Jim biting the creature's tail, or Pat the bear sitting on a cat - and then a cactus. And of course there's Pop (father? Grandfather? It's an old-fashioned word that I feel the need to explain every time!), whose two little kids (or grandkids) are jumping on like a trampoline and he gets very angry. The kids - mine, not the ones in the book - find this all very fascinating, quite funny and ask a lot of questions. All of which makes for a great book!]]> 4.04 1963 Hop on Pop
author: Dr. Seuss
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.04
book published: 1963
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/05
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, classics, childrens, picture-book
review:
If There's A Wocket in My Pocket was full of made-up words for rhyme's sake, Hop On Pop is full of couplings for rhymes sake. The first pages go:

"UP PUP
Pup is up.

CUP PUP
Pup in cup.

PUP CUP
Cup on pup."

It pretty much follows that format all the way through, and I have to say, they aren't the easiest rhymes to say! Some of them are absolute tongue twisters, which I think was deliberate.

What's cool about it is how it's a grammar book in disguise. The kids I read this too are young toddlers, busy constructing simple sentences and learning vocabulary and prepositions, so this is quite timely I think. It shows all the different combinations - paired with Seuss's trademark lively illustrations - that you can make with a couple of simple words.

Things happen, too. Like the ball players who fall off the wall, or little Jim biting the creature's tail, or Pat the bear sitting on a cat - and then a cactus. And of course there's Pop (father? Grandfather? It's an old-fashioned word that I feel the need to explain every time!), whose two little kids (or grandkids) are jumping on like a trampoline and he gets very angry. The kids - mine, not the ones in the book - find this all very fascinating, quite funny and ask a lot of questions. All of which makes for a great book!
]]> Dr. Seuss's ABC 7769
Originally created by Dr. Seuss, Beginner Books encourage children to read all by themselves, with simple words and illustrations that give clues to their meaning.]]> 24 Dr. Seuss 0679882812 Shannon 4
BIG A,
little a,
what begins with A?

Aunt Annie's alligator.
A...a...A

BIG F,
little f
what begins with F?

Four fluffy feathers on a Fiffer-feffer-feff.

BIG O,
little o,
what begins with O?

Ostrich, oil,
orange owl.
O...o...O

BIG Y,
little y,
what begins with Y?

A yawning yellow yak
with Yolanda on his back.

There's some variety, not all the rhymes follow the same exact format, but they all start the same way and most end with the letters again. Writing the alphabet this way does make for a fairly long read, though, and so far the kids (recently turned or turning 2) get a bit restless and distracted before the end. But there's some good vocabulary here (and not too many made-up words) and you can get them to name the things in the pictures, too.]]> 4.04 1963 Dr. Seuss's ABC
author: Dr. Seuss
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.04
book published: 1963
rating: 4
read at: 2013/06/27
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: picture-book, childrens, 2013, classics
review:
We have quite a few ABC books in the house now, but I don't think any of them are quite as fun to read as this one - certainly not with the younger readers anyway. Seuss doesn't go for the usual pattern of picking one thing for each letter; no, he has to include silly rhymes and even some made-up words too, paired with his trademark slightly-unrealistic illustrations. A sample:

BIG A,
little a,
what begins with A?

Aunt Annie's alligator.
A...a...A

BIG F,
little f
what begins with F?

Four fluffy feathers on a Fiffer-feffer-feff.

BIG O,
little o,
what begins with O?

Ostrich, oil,
orange owl.
O...o...O

BIG Y,
little y,
what begins with Y?

A yawning yellow yak
with Yolanda on his back.

There's some variety, not all the rhymes follow the same exact format, but they all start the same way and most end with the letters again. Writing the alphabet this way does make for a fairly long read, though, and so far the kids (recently turned or turning 2) get a bit restless and distracted before the end. But there's some good vocabulary here (and not too many made-up words) and you can get them to name the things in the pictures, too.
]]> <![CDATA[Curious George Stories to Share]]> 13022218
A new paper-over-board treasury of Curious George adventures! Sales of the individual books exceed 1.8 million copies! This value-priced offering includes $32.00 worth of books for $10.99. Enjoy these popular Curious George and the Firefighters, Curious George at the Aquarium, Curious George’s Dinosaur Discovery, Curious George at the Baseball Game, Curious George at the Parade, Curious George’s First Day of School, Curious George and the Pizza Party, and Curious George Plants a Tree.]]> 196 Margret Rey 0547595298 Shannon 3 picture-book, childrens, 2013 stories (as opposed to books that list things, as a lot of baby and toddler books do, for building vocabulary), I'm not as in love with Curious George as my son is.

There are eight stories in this edition, which are:
Curious George and the Firefighters (2004)
Curious George at the Aquarium (2007)
Curious George's Dinosaur Discovery (2006)
Curious George's First Day of School (2005)
Curious George and the Pizza Party (2010)
Curious George at the Baseball Game (2006)
Curious George at the Parade (1999)
Curious George Plants a Tree (2009)

The stories are very cute, and if you're as new to Curious George as I am I'll give you the basic gist of it: Every story starts of more-or-less the same way: "This is George. He was a good little monkey and always very curious." The second thing the first page always shares is that he is with "his friend the man with the yellow hat" (in fact his friend wears all yellow but we won't split hairs). George is not just curious: he acts on his curiosity. He wants to learn and discover and understand and experience things, but of course he always causes a big mess or a ruckus or chaos and angers people. Then the story takes a turn with George coming out the hero or helpful or super fun etc., and everyone loves him at the end. That's the formula of each story, and it's quite fascinating to see how many times that story line can be played out without sounding too repetitious!

There is variety among the stories, though, and some of the stories have extra morals, messages or meanings beyond George redeeming himself. "George Plants a Tree" has a clear environmental message, and at the baseball game he helps a little lost boy find his father. Speaking of that story, it's my least favourite to read to the kids. I've never been to a baseball game and the only thing I know about it is that it's modelled after cricket, which means that I don't know enough to explain the terminology or to fake enthusiasm for it, so I try to avoid reading that one! "Curious George's First Day of School" is quite fun, and of course the kids love the Pizza Party story! Many of the stories contain puns and little jokes that only older kids or adult readers will get, but for younger toddlers the illustrations themselves are enough to engage them.

I'm a little confused over who wrote these stories. Each one is illustrated by someone (or several someones) different, with the credit reading "Illustrated in the style of H.A. Rey by Anna Grossnickle Hines", for instance (in the case of "Curious George and the Firefighters"). There's no author credit given, though. The original creators are Margret Rey and her husband, HA Rey, who illustrated them, but in no way does this edition say that she wrote these stories. Yet it doesn't say who did! The publisher owns the copyright on the stories, which usually means they hired a ghost writer to pen them, but I don't know for sure. (I'd look it up but I'm really exhausted and pressed for time! If anyone knows the story behind these stories, do please let me know.)
]]> 4.26 2011 Curious George Stories to Share
author: Margret Rey
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.26
book published: 2011
rating: 3
read at: 2013/07/22
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: picture-book, childrens, 2013
review:
I had never read Curious George stories before now. A friend gave this book to Hugh for his 2nd birthday (July 2013) and he absolutely loves it. He always wants to read it, and I have to confess that while it's a nice change, and it's good that he enjoys so many actual stories (as opposed to books that list things, as a lot of baby and toddler books do, for building vocabulary), I'm not as in love with Curious George as my son is.

There are eight stories in this edition, which are:
Curious George and the Firefighters (2004)
Curious George at the Aquarium (2007)
Curious George's Dinosaur Discovery (2006)
Curious George's First Day of School (2005)
Curious George and the Pizza Party (2010)
Curious George at the Baseball Game (2006)
Curious George at the Parade (1999)
Curious George Plants a Tree (2009)

The stories are very cute, and if you're as new to Curious George as I am I'll give you the basic gist of it: Every story starts of more-or-less the same way: "This is George. He was a good little monkey and always very curious." The second thing the first page always shares is that he is with "his friend the man with the yellow hat" (in fact his friend wears all yellow but we won't split hairs). George is not just curious: he acts on his curiosity. He wants to learn and discover and understand and experience things, but of course he always causes a big mess or a ruckus or chaos and angers people. Then the story takes a turn with George coming out the hero or helpful or super fun etc., and everyone loves him at the end. That's the formula of each story, and it's quite fascinating to see how many times that story line can be played out without sounding too repetitious!

There is variety among the stories, though, and some of the stories have extra morals, messages or meanings beyond George redeeming himself. "George Plants a Tree" has a clear environmental message, and at the baseball game he helps a little lost boy find his father. Speaking of that story, it's my least favourite to read to the kids. I've never been to a baseball game and the only thing I know about it is that it's modelled after cricket, which means that I don't know enough to explain the terminology or to fake enthusiasm for it, so I try to avoid reading that one! "Curious George's First Day of School" is quite fun, and of course the kids love the Pizza Party story! Many of the stories contain puns and little jokes that only older kids or adult readers will get, but for younger toddlers the illustrations themselves are enough to engage them.

I'm a little confused over who wrote these stories. Each one is illustrated by someone (or several someones) different, with the credit reading "Illustrated in the style of H.A. Rey by Anna Grossnickle Hines", for instance (in the case of "Curious George and the Firefighters"). There's no author credit given, though. The original creators are Margret Rey and her husband, HA Rey, who illustrated them, but in no way does this edition say that she wrote these stories. Yet it doesn't say who did! The publisher owns the copyright on the stories, which usually means they hired a ghost writer to pen them, but I don't know for sure. (I'd look it up but I'm really exhausted and pressed for time! If anyone knows the story behind these stories, do please let me know.)

]]> Elmer and the Stranger 13269670 28 David McKee 0862649471 Shannon 4 Not Now Bernard! (I got a copy for Hugh already), even though it was a rather scary book from the perspective of Bernard; Elmer is a very different book from that older one.

This is the story of Elmer and his friends, Lion and Tiger, and how they help Kangaroo, a stranger. They come across Kangaroo in the forest, acting very strangely, and he seems sad. Kangaroo is going to enter a jumping competition with the other kangaroos, but he's thinking about jumping so much that when he tries to jump he just falls over! But he's awfully good at bouncing, that's easy.

Privately, Elmer, Lion and Tiger think bouncing is the same thing as jumping, but Kangaroo is quite certain there's a difference. Still, they decide to help him, and by distracting Kangaroo with something else, manage to show him how high and how far he can "bounce" when he's not trying so hard. They accompany him to the contest and with their encouragement, he wins! It's a happy day all round.

This is classic McKee work - and I can say that even though I've only read one of previous books (and a much older one at that!) because his style is so very distinctive. He doesn't write sweet, moralising stories. His stories are just a bit weird, just a bit strange, and plenty compelling. His illustrations, too, are off-beat. At two years old, the kids are a bit too young to appreciate the artwork or the story, but older kids would really enjoy this I think. It has a very positive message combined with adult irony and fantastical illustrations - no need to get hung up on the unrealistic detail of having a lion, elephant, tiger and kangaroo all living in the same place!]]> 3.50 2000 Elmer and the Stranger
author: David McKee
name: Shannon
average rating: 3.50
book published: 2000
rating: 4
read at: 2013/07/22
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, childrens, picture-book, gift
review:
This was given to my son Hugh for his second birthday from my older sister. David McKee has written a whole series of books about Elmer the Patchwork Elephant, and I'm ashamed to say I hadn't heard of any of them! As a kid I loved McKee's Not Now Bernard! (I got a copy for Hugh already), even though it was a rather scary book from the perspective of Bernard; Elmer is a very different book from that older one.

This is the story of Elmer and his friends, Lion and Tiger, and how they help Kangaroo, a stranger. They come across Kangaroo in the forest, acting very strangely, and he seems sad. Kangaroo is going to enter a jumping competition with the other kangaroos, but he's thinking about jumping so much that when he tries to jump he just falls over! But he's awfully good at bouncing, that's easy.

Privately, Elmer, Lion and Tiger think bouncing is the same thing as jumping, but Kangaroo is quite certain there's a difference. Still, they decide to help him, and by distracting Kangaroo with something else, manage to show him how high and how far he can "bounce" when he's not trying so hard. They accompany him to the contest and with their encouragement, he wins! It's a happy day all round.

This is classic McKee work - and I can say that even though I've only read one of previous books (and a much older one at that!) because his style is so very distinctive. He doesn't write sweet, moralising stories. His stories are just a bit weird, just a bit strange, and plenty compelling. His illustrations, too, are off-beat. At two years old, the kids are a bit too young to appreciate the artwork or the story, but older kids would really enjoy this I think. It has a very positive message combined with adult irony and fantastical illustrations - no need to get hung up on the unrealistic detail of having a lion, elephant, tiger and kangaroo all living in the same place!
]]> <![CDATA[There's a Wocket in My Pocket! Dr Seuss's Book of Ridiculous Rhymes]]> 1293907 "Did you ever have the feeling there's a WASKET in your BASKET?"

'There's a Wocket in My Pocket!' is filled with bizarre creatures and rhymes such as the "nupboard in the cupboard", "ghairs beneath the stairs", and the "bofa on the sofa"!

In this silly Bright and Early Book classic by Dr. Seuss, a young boy goes exploring in his house and finds an array of fun characters! Are you certain there's a Jertain in the curtain? Or have you ever had a feeling there's a Geeling on the ceiling? From the pesky Nooth Grush on a tooth brush to a sleepy Zelf up on the shelf, There's a Wocket in My Pocket will have young readers eager to explore their homes and the wonders of rhyming and wordplay.

Combining brief and funny stories, easy words, catchy rhythm, and lively illustrations, Bright and Early Books are an ideal way to introduce the joys of reading to children!

With his unique combination of hilarious stories, zany pictures and riotous rhymes, Dr. Seuss has been delighting young children and helping them learn to read for over fifty years. Creator of the wonderfully anarchic 'Cat in the Hat', and ranked among the world's top children's authors, Dr. Seuss is a global best-seller, with nearly half a billion books sold worldwide.]]> 24 Dr. Seuss 0679882839 Shannon 4 2013, picture-book There's A Wocket in My Pocket! so I don't know how this differs, sad to say, but as it's quite the silly book and so much fun to read, I wouldn't mind getting the longer version too.

It begins: "Did you ever have the feeling there's a ZAMP in the LAMP?"

"Or a NINK in the SINK?" and so on.

For each everyday household item or piece of furniture, Seuss made up a silly rhyme. There's the WOSET in the CLOSET and the BOFA on the SOFA, the GEELING on the CEILING and the NOOTH GRUSH on the TOOTHBRUSH. To be funny, my almost-two-year-old son started saying "No" to the opening questions (quoted above), mostly because the first time he did it we laughed it was so funny, so of course now he says it even more! Whoops.

But it's not just questions, it's the boy describing all the strange creatures he finds around the house, which ones he likes and which he doesn't (which ones are nice and which are not). I have no idea if the kids, who are still so young, actually think these are real "things" that you can find around the house, but either way they're fascinated and the rhymes seem to really entertain them. Plus, it's a lot of fun to read so I don't mind reading this one over and over!
]]> 4.19 1974 There's a Wocket in My Pocket! Dr Seuss's Book of Ridiculous Rhymes
author: Dr. Seuss
name: Shannon
average rating: 4.19
book published: 1974
rating: 4
read at: 2013/05/19
date added: 2015/07/05
shelves: 2013, picture-book
review:
I'm completely unfamiliar with the original There's A Wocket in My Pocket! so I don't know how this differs, sad to say, but as it's quite the silly book and so much fun to read, I wouldn't mind getting the longer version too.

It begins: "Did you ever have the feeling there's a ZAMP in the LAMP?"

"Or a NINK in the SINK?" and so on.

For each everyday household item or piece of furniture, Seuss made up a silly rhyme. There's the WOSET in the CLOSET and the BOFA on the SOFA, the GEELING on the CEILING and the NOOTH GRUSH on the TOOTHBRUSH. To be funny, my almost-two-year-old son started saying "No" to the opening questions (quoted above), mostly because the first time he did it we laughed it was so funny, so of course now he says it even more! Whoops.

But it's not just questions, it's the boy describing all the strange creatures he finds around the house, which ones he likes and which he doesn't (which ones are nice and which are not). I have no idea if the kids, who are still so young, actually think these are real "things" that you can find around the house, but either way they're fascinated and the rhymes seem to really entertain them. Plus, it's a lot of fun to read so I don't mind reading this one over and over!

]]>