Author: Sharon

Writer of Dark and Light Fiction. Fact, fiction, poetry, short stories, articles and novels. Cross-genre, slipstream, non-traditional romance, gothic, horror, fantasy and more... Visit this diverse writer's site.

Reads of 2018 part 1

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At long last I read a greater number of books last year, approximately 60 so I was back up to my at least one book a week average. As there are a larger number to mention, part 2 will appear next week.

I read several zombie novels in 2018, including Patient Zero, by Jonathan Maberry, a riveting fast and perfect paced blend of zombie apocalypse and contemporary military thriller. I’ll be reading more in the series.

Next came The New Hunger, by Isaac Marion. Having loved the writer’s first published book, I had to see what else the author had done. This is a short and unnecessary read but it’s well written and enjoyable and gives us a glimpse into the background of the characters in Warm Bodies.

Warm Bodies, Isaac Marion, is a book I first read about 4 years ago. With my hands on the novella prequel and the novel sequel, I dipped in again. First, a word on the film of the book. It’s not a terrible film, but it uses the more humorous parts to convey the author’s much more visceral idea too lightly. When I first saw trailers, I imagined the book to be a Young Adult ‘popcorn’ story, a jokey hoot. Do yourself a favour; if you’ve seen the film, regardless of whether you liked it, DO read the book. It’s a decidedly unique experience.

With the characters of Julie and ‘R’, the setting is a modern twist on Romeo and Juliet set in a dystopian future where zombies outnumber the living. Even many of the survivors seem dead inside, imprisoned as they are behind their safety barriers. Like many zombie books, this is a story that questions and reflects society, but particularly skilfully. An unexpected read the first time around, and no less pleasurable the second. The book contains threads of something dark and disturbing, yet enlightening. This book will speak to some people, though not all; I hope it speaks to many. This is not a gory horror novel, not a teen Rom-com spoof. Hidden within its pages is a celebration of life in all its messiness. The story is a metaphor for so many things: the state of the world, life’s meaning, civilisation out of control. It imparts the essence of almost every zombie story and life itself. It’s a book about living.

The Burning World, Isaac Marion. Where Warm Bodies stopped, this book continues and seems to speak on a wider basis, reflecting society, the way we view authority and vice versa, the way countries are run. Maybe because Warm Bodies felt like a complete reading, I didn’t enjoy this as much, not that I disliked it. It’s a worthwhile read. It doesn’t wind up the story, though, and I’ll be interested to see where the author is going with this series as Warm Bodies felt like a complete reading that needed nothing more.

The Society of Blood, Mark Morris, was a tough book to review. The middle of a trilogy, so I couldn’t tell whether it did its job. I found the first book so intriguing I had to read the rest. The second was as interesting though maybe not as compelling, but it didn’t have to be. Its purpose was to set up situations that will reach a satisfying completion in book three. That’s a question I couldn’t answer until I picked up the next book. What felt disjointed served a purpose. It also gave the reader a sense of Alex’s disorientation. There’s only one way to describe the book, and that’s as a time-travelling Steampunk horror. With time-travel, horrific mechanical creatures, mad scientist experiments, shape-shifters and a strange artifact at the heart (excuse the pun) of the story, it was difficult to tell whether the story was overdone or perfectly executed at this stage; but, as a reader who likes to see a wild imagination at work, this was still a good read and, as the trilogy concluded satisfactorily, it is now a welcome addition to my bookshelves.

A Separate Peace, John Knowles, called a masterpiece and I can see why. Set in a boy’s school where an incident involving a dive from a tree explores what is in our own hearts and minds. The themes explored are interesting, and the book is well-written, very much a classic of its time.

Chase, Dean Koontz, was a re-read for me. My copy is old and purchased when I first read Dean Koontz around the time his book, Strangers, came out. I’m trying to get rid of a few books, so revisiting titles from authors I’ve collected in the hope I can give a few away. This isn’t a bad thriller, but it’s very much a product of its time. The reason behind the killings, the killer’s motivation, the stereotyped persona of both the killer and the women, all well-written in their day, but give the book a nostalgic feel read now. The forensics and phone tracing possible now would probably mean the outcome would have been unlikely without more care taken. It’s a decent read of its time and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I can understand why many will have problems with this; it’s a problem every writer faces when science and technology move on. If you want classic Koontz, there are still many good things here, especially in the first half of the book, but he’s written many that are better.

In March I picked up The Wraiths of War, by Mark Morris, to conclude Alex Locke’s adventures through time. I spent a good amount of time travelling with ‘Alex’ wondering if the trilogy would reach a satisfying conclusion. I’m delighted to say it does, or at least did so for me. Despite one or two loose ends — much of which could be explained by the possibilities of time travel and not knowing what might be possible in the future — I put the book down with a smile wanting to revisit Alex Locke’s world again and re-read this at some point now knowing all that I guessed and all I learned.

Any series, whether a trilogy or longer, can require patience, can require reading the whole before it’s possible to give any true critique. Time travel stories often tie me up in knots, make me frustrated and the reading (or viewing) experience almost painful, all of which keeps me on tenterhooks more than any other story type — the dreadful need to correct a timeline and the possible disastrous consequences of failure. There were moments like that in this book, though I never felt a need to hurry when reading this. I was as happy to enjoy Alex’s quieter periods in his life and the more exhausting ones. Perhaps the most suspenseful moments in the 3rd book are when Alex has to face trench warfare (as stated in the blurb, so this is not a spoiler). What Mark Morris has written… well, I’m sure almost any accounting of war falls short of reality, but he’s tried to express the horrors.

I’ve read several of Mark Morris’s books but the Obsidian Heart trilogy feels like something he was destined to write, I applaud the work that must have involved tying all the timelines together, and the three books will be among my book collection for a good long time.

Snowblind, Christopher Golden is an enjoyable ‘chiller’ that takes place during two horrendous snowstorms (sorry for the pun; couldn’t help myself). I would have liked to get to know the characters and cared for them a little more, but the development and depth is what one expects of the genre. This somewhat different ghost story contained enough of a twist and creepiness to keep me entertained and I like the revelation of the truth behind the cause of the disappearances. It’s possible to imagine some scenes done well made into a film.

Humans, Matt Haig, is one of those books about much more than it first appears to be — questioning the puzzle that is a human being and told with a simplistic plot. Amazing.

The Ritual, Adam Nevill, is a book of two halves. I so wanted to give it 5 stars, but I preferred the first half of the book to the second, and, although I’m unsure what would have been a better conclusion, the end felt a little abrupt. What I love about this book is the atmosphere the author creates, capturing my interest in a way many books of this type have failed and making him an author I want to read again. I imagine some may say they’d like to have got to know the characters a little more, at least it occurred on some level, but in a horror story it’s not always necessary to know these men are little more than regular guys doing their best to get by in their average lives and who don’t deserve the situation thrust upon them. A wonderfully atmospheric lost in the woods horror story.

The Beholder’s Eye

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We’re told beauty is in the beholder’s eye, but awful book covers exist and, for a peculiar reason, a high proportion of poor art has appeared on romance books. I’m glad to report this trend is shifting and, as with the content, many covers reflect a discerning audience; good news for writers and readers.

If you’ve not read a romance in a while, they have changed. Aside from classic literature from authors such as Bronte or Austen (my first literary introduction to a romantic heroine was Jane Eyre), most young girls of my generation had their first taste of romance in the form of a Mills and Boon’s book. At age fourteen or fifteen, this gave girls a perverse view of romance and of what men expected of women. For those that love such books, I’m not knocking them. There are many good examples and they are intended to be fantasies.

I’m referring more to a sign of the times and of how things have developed from when I was a teenager. As a friend exclaimed there was never an erection in a Mills and Boon’s when she was young, and while I am sure that despite our feminist backbones, many women appreciate the image of a handsome man sweeping them off their feet, these days it’s more a case of mutual support. Today’s heroines are as likely to pick up a baseball bat, or gun, or sword, or high-power laser particle whangamado gadget in defence of their man should the need require they take action. Heroines and their heroes now stand together (or a hero with a hero, and a heroine with a heroine or whatever combination one wishes), as, in an ideal world, love should conquer ‘all’. In love, both parties fall at the feet of the other. Equality is the key and, even in surrender, both can stay equal.

This new era of romance crosses age, class-distinctions, social taboos, even universes, for it crosses genres. If you look for the animal in your man or woman, you will find them as vamps and shape-shifters of every description. Whether you read sci-fi, fantasy, horror, or westerns, if you can think of it, likely there’s a romance to suit your tastes. These stories now contain adventure, danger, excitement, and a soupcon of erotica.

What has this to do with the cover? From the writer’s point of view, one of promotion. People often ‘do’ judge a book by its cover. What caught my attention was during an author chat someone raised the question: how do authors ‘choose’ their covers? The simple answer is that they don’t, and this goes for all genres. Sometimes, an author may even face having their beloved title changed, either for better promotional purposes, or, in a case of a publisher having two books with the same title, a wish not to confuse readers; they will ask the second writer to choose another option, but I have heard cases of publishers doing so without consultation.

The same applies to book covers. Many publishers will do their utmost to create something pleasing to both the author and the expected readership. Others… well, even with the best of intentions mistakes happen, and, depending on the company’s policy, the author may have no say, no comeback, not even see a preview of the work before publication, which can lead to proofreading errors that are beyond the writer’s control.

Fortunately, many reputable publishers consider their authors’ feelings. A poor cover is terrible news for everyone — the publisher wants a book to sell as much as the author does. Mostly, yes, a suitable cover can be a good indicator, but deciding purely on what the eye sees is risky. I’ve discovered treasures hiding under awful wrapping paper and some dreadful works presented with spectacular artwork.

Such Rich Prose

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With the gift-giving season fast approaching, I couldn’t help but think back on some of my childhood reads, my favourite type of gift to receive. I’ve never had a child in my life I haven’t given books to.

A few years ago, I read The Owl Service by Alan Garner owing to a recommendation. I cannot say I found the writing charming and yet it has a haunting, surreal quality that makes for a memorable read. It’s supposed to be a children’s book, but I can’t think of a reason apart from the adage in the publishing world that if the main character is a child, then it is a book for children. Publishers seem to think if the lead is a child, it will hold no interest for adults. The worldwide phenomenon of a certain wizard has turned this concept on the head. Whether you love or loathe the particular boy lead in question, I think this is a good thing. There are many books out there that cross the barrier between child and adult readers and I, for one, am not too proud to admit reading the occasional children’s book. I cannot imagine the inability to enjoy a pleasant afternoon revisiting some of my old favourite characters in their adventures. I have a quote on my website by C.S.Lewis: No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally (and often far more) worth reading at age fifty and beyond.

When I young, my reading material was Pooh and then Enid Blyton’s Mr Meddles Muddles, Mr Pinkwhistle or Mr Twiddle. I was also fond of her Wishing Chair series and to this day I own a copy of Mr Galliano’s Circus (although I used to call him Mr Galeeno as I couldn’t get my tongue around the pronunciation). I wanted to be young Jimmy Brown and run away to the circus. In a more enlightened time and as an adult I couldn’t imagine anything worse (I am not a supporter of animal circuses) but I understand it was the running away on an ‘adventure’ part I loved so well. In the Moomins books, I wanted to be Snuffkin and share his love of travelling. From there I went on to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, although I always preferred The Great Glass Elevator. Yes, there is a second book! I adored the Vermicious Knids far more than the Oompa-Loompas.

There was no stopping me. I loved The Water Babies because it touched my sense of fair play. Every child should hear of Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby or Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid. One Hundred and One Dalmatians a Disney film? I read the book by Dodie Smith and progressed to the sequel. Yes, once again there is a follow-up people seldom hear of called The Starlight Barking. Likewise, I read Bambi the book by Felix Salten, and you’ll never see that story the same way again. As a child, I lent it to an aunt and insisted she read it. After much nagging, she (begrudgingly) sat down one day and only stopped when she realised it had grown too dark to see. She was that lost in the story.

Then it was Ballet Shoes and What Katy Did. My most unusual children’s book has got to be Snowflake by Paul Gallico. Mine is tatty, gone orange and lost its cover, though I can remember the cover to this day: pale blue and white with a white snowflake with a child’s face in the centre. Snowflake is ‘born’, falls in love with ‘Raindrop’, goes on a journey and at last returns to her creator. It’s the first book that made my heart ache.

Later came Oscar Wilde. His Happy Prince story made me sob. Once I was old enough, we started on the classics. It’s amazing in this day that people term classic literature as stuffy. Maybe it’s the classic moniker that has done the harm. They weren’t classics when I was young; they were just books. I started with Heidi but was soon on to Gulliver’s Travels, Treasure Island, Robinson Crusoe, Oliver Twist, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. These were my world. They were my friends. They never failed me and took me adventuring with them. It’s a sad world where children don’t read these books today.

Then it was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein — the name of the creature’s creator, not the ‘monster’ when the whole point of the book is the true monsters are the man who created him, and the society who hounds him. This so-called horror story isn’t only that. It’s a morality lesson. At once I fell into the richness of the language, some of which may seem superfluous in this modern age but even in Mary Shelley’s introduction doesn’t “Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by, before we retired to rest” much more engrossing than “We talked well into the night before we went to bed”?

One of my favourite works is the Gormenghast Trilogy by Mervyn Peake, for the involved story, the characters, and, most of all, owing to its rich language. I’ve enticed people to watch the BBC series, but even though they often love the story, it disinclines them toward the book. I feel it’s a pity that children are often no longer raised on such rich prose. Not only are they missing out on such imaginative stories, one can’t help speculating whether it would do wonders for their verbal skills and their ability to communicate.

A Lovely Month

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I skipped last week’s blog but hope I’ll be forgiven as I was away for a break in Pembrokeshire in Wales enjoying what has surprised us all: a gorgeous autumn. There are warnings that with the roses still in bloom and some days feeling like summer, we’ll pay for it with a harsh winter. As there’s nothing we can do to alter whatever is in store, I’ve been enjoying every moment with long walks in forests and on beaches, with some clambering about the occasional castle thrown in.

Continuing my autumn celebration, here’s another little poem, this time a Haiku entitled Rust. Although the word is most associated with a type of decay, it’s the perfect description of the colour of leaves on the tree and notes a decomposition that creates one of our most lovely seasons.

My Emotional Arsenal

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I may surprise many people by saying I’m not listing talent as the most important writing skill. The topmost item on my list is an Emotional Arsenal.

There’s an advert doing the rounds in the UK at the moment staring Claudia Winkleman promoting her use of Head and Shoulders Shampoo. In this advertisement, Claudia reads out some tweets, including one that refers to her as an annoying personality vacuum. She jokes this off as if it means nothing. Maybe the tweet hurt, maybe it didn’t. I don’t care what shampoo she uses and I refuse to address any issues people may or may not have with her personality. I would like to think the tweet meant as little to her as it appears to in the ad because that’s the foremost skill anyone who does a job that draws public attention needs to learn. James Scott Bell refers to it as Rhino Skin.

Seriously, every writer must grow a thick skin. If rejection and harsh words are upsetting, the publishing world may not be worth the grind. If the potential writer is a person who can only moderately handle criticism, then the thick skin required may develop, but the sooner the better is the only true advice. The writer will always face criticism at every stage — from editors, from readers, from critics and reviewers. Regardless of personal views, one thing I admire J.K.Rowling for was saying she wasn’t taking dictation because this has to apply to all writers. Critique (as opposed to criticism) can be invaluable, but it’s best to learn to temper feedback with one’s own judgement. The writer should not allow every negative comment to influence the work. Train one’s reaction to meet negativity with determination.

Having said all that, I will contradict myself a little. You don’t ‘have’ to read reviews for your book. You’re allowed to take a break from the outside world and its influences. A negative review can be an excellent learning experience, but if you find one particular place online has a habit of being a cesspit of negativity not only for your book but for others, it may not be the best place to hang out. If you receive nine glowing reviews but a tenth accuses you of being talentless and your book best used as toilet paper, keep in the mind trolls pepper the internet — people who thrive on giving other people a day as black as their small twisted souls. Common sense is key here. Don’t take everything to heart and learn to recognise what is truth and what is not. That which is personal bias. Bigotry. And that which is plain meanness.

That’s another requirement on my list. The writer needs determination. Also, patience. These three things may be the most important for the writer’s Emotional Arsenal. Make that four. I will add discipline. The writer must make time for writing, and in an already busy life that can seem impossible. All authors face deadlines.

However, the writer who constructs an unbreakable emotional barrier may risk cutting themselves off from facing their work with honesty. Although I said to grow a thick skin, in a way only practice and experience can teach the writer to deal with negativity and change it into something positive. It’s taken me time to learn how to flip a switch in my head from a writer to an editor, and it’s an ongoing process of learning, but I face my draft as a writer, my manuscript and all that comes after as an editor.

Be willing to learn — from courses, from writing know-how books, from reading material, from editors, and yes, also readers…. all to a point. Don’t get so wrapped up in these things they become more important than writing itself, but don’t dismiss them. In a flooded market, there are as many ‘how-to’ books as wannabe writers, but there are excellent volumes out there. Be willing to study and to learn, always.