Category: Recommended Read

Reads I’ve enjoyed.

Reading and other news August 2018

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Hi Everyone!
Yes, I know it’s September. I should have posted this last week, but I’m slightly late as we were away visiting family.

READING:

The Bullet Trick, Louise Walsh
I’ve read one of Louise Walsh’s books before (though the title escapes me) upon recommendation. I recall not being taken with it. This book I enjoyed more. The writing is slick and I like the way the story jumps back and forth between settings and time. The big reveal, not so big, but an enjoyable, cosy thriller. One I liked for the writing and presentation more than the plot.

In the Place of Fallen Leaves, Tim Pears
Felt myself falling into this story almost right away, certainly by the start of the second chapter. The writing is lyrical, creating images and imparting information in an intricate weave. It’s a book without a plot, though; more a memoir in tone than a story, an exposition of events over a long, hot summer in Devon, sometimes grave, other times sad and humorous. Not one to speed through.

The Girl Next Door, Jack Ketchum
This book is hard to review objectively. On the one hand, it borders the type of horror termed as torture porn. On the other, and in a part precisely for that reason, I’m sure it does what it intends to do. It provokes emotion and, I hope, for most people, in the right way, making the reader uneasy. Ultimately, I wasn’t able to forgive anyone, not even the protagonist. There’s something voyeuristic in the reading, speaking to the part of human nature that wants to put the book down. Yet, like watching a train wreck, another part wants to discover the outcome. Wants justice. Retribution. Wants to ‘do something’, to act, particularly as this is based on a true story — the book’s real saving grace as it highlights the plight of all abused children, spiking the guilty nerve of anyone who doesn’t want to get involved. The book is confrontational and unsettling in so many ways that it questions the causes behind my very dislike. The book is terrible, and in that possibly achieves its purpose, creating a conundrum both excellent and dreadful. It’s a repulsive grim read that’s hard to turn away from or dismiss, though I’m positive not everyone who reads this will have the same experience as I did. I dislike this book, but that’s okay — I shouldn’t like it — but I appreciate it as a job well done: vile but emotive because of that. Still, I didn’t know at the time that the surviving family never wanted this book published. Had I known, I probably wouldn’t have it.

FILMS:

If you’ve ever seen Tarantino’s work, you know you’ve got to have a stomach for violence, but one of his less violent and surprising films was The Hateful Eight. There are a few graphic shootings, but most of the film comprises long drawn-out conversations. We found it interesting, surprised how fast an almost 3 hour film passed, but I can see where it will send many to sleep.

Been catching up on Doc Martin, a series I’ve always liked, but I don’t get what the creators are trying to do with the character in season 7 with the dog story.

SPOILER: Even if it would be a part of the character’s mental condition, this is fiction and even if they turn it around, it can never be forgotten or forgiven. When he was merely irritated with the dog, it was mildly funny. When he dumped the animal at the side of the road, his actions became more questionable. When he tried to kill it, the game was over. Way to go, making me hate the character. If I were his wife, Louisa, it would be an instant divorce. I’ll stick with the series, but this storyline has made me dislike the MC and even the inhabitants of the village, as no one seems to want this poor homeless dog. Saying that, the end of Season 8 has the best line possible.

WRITING:

I’ve already mentioned in another blog post I made the hard decision to remove some of my titles from circulation.

I also returned the galley proof of A Not So Hollow Heart and received the cover. Amazingly, there were no errors, though there is one issue where house-style has determined the use of US punctuation in an otherwise UK setting, UK characters, UK spelling and punctuated book.

 And lastly… I have something I want to tell you but can’t… yet. It may not happen and if it doesn’t, I’ll no doubt just let you know ‘no joy’. I’m terrified to even mention it.

Until the end of the month… Happy Reading!
Sharon x

To Read or Not to Read

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When I mention my To-Be-Read-Mountain, few are surprised. Not only do I buy more books per year than I can usually read, I inherited a good 500 books from my father a few years ago. That’s 500 I kept, discounting those I gave away to friends and charity. He had many genres, including fantasies I’ve longed to read, and several series of which I’d never heard. A few trilogies had the first book only, or book one and two with the third missing, so I went searching to complete those that interested me. These amounted to many novels, adding to an existing extensive collection. My bookshelves ‘double up’.

I’m always amazed by people’s reactions, ‘Wow, books’. Makes me think of the little green men from Toy Story all going ‘Oooooooohhhhhhh.’ With me I can spend an hour in someone’s home wondering ‘what’s wrong with this picture?’ before I realise, there are no books. A house without books, to me, isn’t a home.

Still, I’m left asking can we have too much of a good thing? When having to move, yes, and I’ve carted this lot around twice in recent years. I’ve come to the time where I must be more selective of the books I keep, even purchase. Some writers are exempt from this rule — quite a list of them — will stay with me always. I should surprise no one when I say one of those authors is Terry Pratchett.

I’ve been listing him in my top five for more years than I can recall but it wasn’t until he died it hit me what a long love-affair I’ve had with Rincewind, Death, The Luggage, The Librarian, Sam Vimes, and… well, that names a mere few, though I shouldn’t forget Rob Anybody, my favourite Nac Mac Feegle. Say hello, Rob. Don’t worry; he always looks this grumpy.

This may sound like gobbledegook to many, but not to anyone who grasped the wonder of Terry’s satire. A friend once told me she’d read the first book (in her words: cute, about wizards) without getting that Terry Pratchett wrote satire, that the Discworld was our world, that the University was our government, the clacks system our postal service and so on. I’m not as surprised as I might be. Few know Gulliver’s Travels was also an exercise in parody.

When Terry died, I was already experiencing a rough day during lasting stress. The universe felled another hammer blow. Is it possible to experience genuine grief when someone you’ve never met dies? Absolutely. I won’t be the only one to say so. When you’ve admired someone, their work, kept track for many years, the loss is real. If nothing else, ‘no more Discworld’ is a hard kick.

I’ll soon be picking up another of his books with the bittersweet knowledge I have about four titles to go to and the fantasy books he wrote with Stephen Baxter. Yes, I’ve still a few of Terry’s books to read… and in there is a puzzle. Why haven’t I read them all?

Because I’ve so many writers I love and I like to spend time with Terry’s books.

I wanted the stress to pass and to be settled before I dipped into the last of his titles. I wanted to feel relaxed while reading them.

I wanted to treasure them and also delay because he’s gone from this world and once I read the last few titles, there will be no more.

This sounds ridiculous, but I know many who were reading the last book or two who said the same: once they finished those, there were no more to look forward to. It’s like closing a book, having found it so good, the desire is there to begin again. Given enough time, I’ll do that too. Meanwhile, to Terry, a man’s whose imagination the world was lucky to have, a heartfelt thank you!

A review: Adam Nevill

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I’ve just finished my second dip into Adam Nevill’s writing, Banquet for the Damned, prompting me to review his writing rather than the book. I couldn’t help wondering what drew me in so. Simply, a rich vocabulary — a style that elevates the horror genre with a more artistic approach.

One thing that has occasionally made me grit my teeth has been having to dumb down. Editors say this in different ways but if told, ‘I’m not telling you to dumb down’, they are. Another way of expressing this is commercial fiction: short simple words, sentences, and paragraphs make for faster reading; readers can speed through books and hence purchase more.

Nothing wrong with this. Some genres or stories take to the fast pace with alacrity, and even within a leisurely pace there is the need to play with the velocity, speeding up and slowing down to suit the suspense and relaxed segments of the plot.

Still, people surprised me by contacting me praising my use of language, words, prose, narrative, style, and expression for my book, A Very Private Haunting all amounting to the same thing and making me feel many don’t frown on the use of a richer vocabulary as some would have us believe. A vocabulary I’ve often had to simplify to meet market demand, so you can imagine my delight when I stumbled over a writer I hadn’t read before who’s not afraid of opting for a more demanding word choice. If I tell you three of my favourite writers are Mervyn Peake, China Melville, and Carlos Ruiz Zafon, it should be no surprise I’m delighted to read an imaginative approach in one of my favourite genres.

I can see why this book will receive mixed reviews, and it’s owing to stylistic preference. On the first page, I sank into a rich vocabulary and longer sentences so often lacking in modern fiction. I don’t want to use the term literary as it carries an unfortunate modern-day connotation of dusty libraries and mildewed books written by notaries of a by-gone age (a sad view of the classics that were part of my childhood reading and nowadays periodically termed ‘too difficult’) and Nevill’s work isn’t like that, but one would have to say this is a more literary ‘style’ of horror.

Another way to describe it is I can see several editors returning the manuscript, circling a few sentences and referencing them as purple prose. Thank goodness the publisher ignored them if they did. The carefully chosen style weaves a successful spell on any reader able to appreciate the opulent seductive description spiced with the ‘creep’ factor; the sense that something is coming and might be present on the next turn of a page. This seems to be where Adam Nevill excels. I’ve read two of his titles so far, but will check out more.

A Review: The Reapers are the Angels (updated repost)

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Below, I re-post a review for a book I read some years ago. Though my opinion of the story was mixed, it remains on my shelves and something about the tale must have resonated because I remember it well. Once, vampires were the beloved creatures to terrorise us and seduce us, whether in their seductive forms or by revealing their more parasitic natures as preferred by writers like Stephen King. For the last several years, zombies have become the new vampires in the popularity poles and it’s likely easy to see why. Most horror favourites associate with current events.

Hammer Horror and such notaries like Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing popularised vampires when the sixties liberation and cultural changes were rife. Woman, in particular, had more sexual freedom, which was one attributing factor which helped pave a way for their social independence, and vampires represent not only the stalking horror but, in much the same way many declare dancing to be a vertical expression of a more horizontal performance, vampires have for so long associated with seduction and the thought of living forever, possibly with the one we love.

Zombies have gained popularity during a time where terrorism is rife, and much of the world seems ever more out of control. The popular monsters of the hour are an analogy for the genuine ‘monstrum’ of reality.

In THE REAPERS ARE THE ANGELS by Alden Bell, we’re invited into the story of a fifteen-year-old teenager called Temple and her journey across America, where she encounters other survivors of a post-apocalyptic zombie outbreak. Temple has never known a world any different — the outbreak happened so long ago there are people born after the disaster. The slugs, as she calls them, still inhabit the earth, but the art of existing in a world of zombies is only one small step on the road to survival. Constantly running from responsibility, preferring to be alone, and accountable for and only to herself in a brutal world, Temple stumbles across others who affect her life in myriad ways. Some she struggles to leave and doesn’t always succeed.

I liked this book but didn’t love it even though I wanted to. The Young Adult tone categorised this book for teenagers, but raised even one of my eyebrows at a fifteen-year-old girl having sex. Fine, these things happen, and should zombies ever roam then perhaps we won’t concern ourselves with such things too much, but in a book whose tone seems to fit younger readers, the content seemed a little off-key. Either that or the author and published aimed it at an older or more diverse readership, though the content doesn’t come across that way. Don’t mistake me — if underage sex makes sense and is a necessary part of the story, then I don’t feel a writer should avoid it, and at least it’s well presented and used acceptably, not gratuitously; however, the fact the writer got this by the publishing censors surprised me. Another problem is that some confrontations are predictable, although there were a few unexpected turns.

My main issues with the book, though, involve grammar and style. The story uses an omniscient voice that led it to feel as if I was sitting down being told about Temple’s adventure by someone sitting around a campfire. Unfortunately, it left me somewhat cold, as if the fire wasn’t lit. I can also forgive the use of ‘of’ in place of ‘have’ in speech (as in “I could of left yesterday”) but not in narration. And last, there are no speech marks. Not a single one. The entire book is ‘told’, including all the conversations. I’ll be the first to say it’s nice to find a writer pushing barriers and breaking rules, but I could see no need to avoid the use of speech marks, particularly if this book is YA, which surely calls for the best use of punctuation and grammar. I can only give the book a three, maybe three and a half out of five. It’s not bad — it just rather perplexed me. I can see many will love this story, but for me the style never quite gels.

Despite these faults, as I’ve already stated, it’s a book I remember and haven’t yet given away. Alden Bell appears to have written only one other novel, Exit Kingdom, which I may check out.

Not so Warm Bodies

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The other week I read a post by Isaac Marion. He’s the author of the best-selling WARM BODIES, made into a film. He’s a success. A writer who has ‘made it’ in the book industry, right? With a film (somewhat based) on one of his books, how could he not? Alas, being a writer is rarely that simple.

As I had already discovered, Warm Bodies is now the first in a trilogy. I read the second title, THE BURNING WORLD, this year after discovering its existence. I include my thoughts on both books below, but what I didn’t know until more recently is that the third title, THE LIVING, is burning a hole in Isaac Marion’s hard drive, the author having finished it almost a year ago.

Although the first book was on the NYT bestseller list, book 2 hasn’t done so well, and, unless it does, there may be a no go on the third title. If it comes to that, I can only hope the author will find another publisher or go the route so many writers have to and self-publish (if contracts allow, mind). I won’t go into the pros and cons of that in this blog, but I’m using it to illustrate one of the many reasons ‘why’ authors turn to self-publishing and why the perception that indie is purely amateur hour is false.

Not everything is as elementary as writers or readers would like to believe. This is a perfect example of the struggle writers face, of how ‘every’ book is as good as starting from scratch. Akin to an actor reading for a role, writers audition every time they submit a manuscript, and, if the work doesn’t meet expectations (which does not have to mean it isn’t good), the writer may have to climb a proverbial ladder again even if they’ve notched up a bestseller on any of the rungs close to the top.

That’s the truth, a simple, not-so-pretty fact about publishing. Unless the writer is a huge, well-known, consistently best-selling name (brand) often seen in the top 10, their next title will not automatically get snapped up. Even if under contract ‘to be published’ it may get pushed back or off a publisher’s list and, depending on the contract clauses, end up in limbo with the writer in purgatory. And I’ve known more than one writer to be in this position.

One thing I have to add is that I hadn’t heard a thing about the release of the second book or that one existed. This leads into one of the biggest battles writers deal with every day — the need for marketing, something too often left to writers in the present climate. Most publishers do not have huge marketing budgets; many have none. Writers have even less, but the expectation falls on them to get the word out. I only came across the second title because the question, ‘I wonder whether Isaac has written anything else?’ popped into my head.

As for those books: I first read Warm Bodies 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 bad, but it uses the more humorous parts to convey the author’s much more visceral idea in a too-light way. 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 original experience.

With the characters of ‘R’ and Julie, 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 skillfully. An unexpected read the first time around, and the second read was no less pleasurable. The book contains threads of something dark and disturbing, yet enlightening, 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, the tale celebrates life in all its messiness. The story is a metaphor for so many things, the state of the world, the meaning of life, civilisation out of control. It imparts the essence of almost every zombie story and life itself. It’s a book about living.

Where Warm Bodies stopped, the Burning World continues, and the story 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 read, I didn’t enjoy this as much, not that I disliked it. It’s definitely a worthwhile read, earns maybe one star fewer than the full score of the first title. I’ll be interested to see where the author is going with this series. Warm Bodies is a book about living. The Burning World reflects more on ‘how we live’, on the quirks of society and how it’s governed.

If you read Warm Bodies and are interested in following further chapters in R’s world then it’ll be worthwhile to help Isaac out by buying The Burning World (and no, I do not know the author before anyone asks, but I loved the first book, enjoyed the second, and long for the third).

Of Fairy Tales and Lost Things

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In keeping with the season, I thought I’d rehash (and tweak) an old review of The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. No doubt better known for his crime novels, this may suggest a peculiar departure for the writer, but if so, one he more than adequately explains in the last quarter of the book. This he dedicates to a discussion of the underlying themes and stories that have influenced him during his life, including their origins and a delightful reintroduction to, and including, a few of these stories themselves. He incorporates these into the book expertly and chooses a style that is reminiscent of the rhyme and rhythm of those fairy tales that, for most of us, were the first introduction to story-telling.

In so doing, he initially confused me, not because I didn’t understand his intention, but because, as a writer, I couldn’t see the market from a publisher’s point of view. Clearly I enjoyed it and I could envision many adults doing likewise, yet initially, I could see this being a book many publishers often reject as seeing ‘no market for this type of thing’. This is not a book for children, although a book that children of a particular age could read and doubtless gain from the experience. I agree with the author that an adult will probably read this in a different light than that of a child. This makes The Book of Lost Things one of those novels that may need re-reading at a different stage in one’s life, possibly for the young adult and then as a mature one. It pleasantly surprised me to come across such a book for an audience of many ages, because of the writing ‘rule’ that dictates if the lead in a book is a child, then it’s a children’s book.

This is most definitely a book for adults to enjoy, not solely because of the bloodthirsty content. It’s amazing how many of us forget how dark, foreboding, and just plain violent those old fairy tales that we grew up with and loved so well indeed were. I didn’t need the book’s added sojourn through the world of fairy tales to know that in many versions of Sleeping Beauty she awakens while giving birth, or the wicked queen in Snow White is made to wear red-hot iron ‘slippers’ to dance in until she dies, just as I know that in Cinderella birds flew down to pluck out her stepsisters’ eyes. Fairy tales have always held great interest for me and have influenced my work. Indeed, my twisted semi-erotic story, Rose Light, is a retelling of Cinderella. Admittedly, I had to heighten sexual content to satisfy the publisher who released it under a romance banner, but it’s a story that I intend to one day restore to its original form for a darker market. So nothing in the content of Connolly’s book surprised me. Nevertheless, I was amazed to find a book published that kept to the traditions of these stories and celebrating their content, of change, of choice, of triumphant, if often in a gruesome way.

Ultimately, the strongest depth and substance to the book is grief, and loss, and how it changes us, becomes a part of who we are and, like stories, influences our lives. Overall, because these are a ‘fairy tales’, they resonate in the way good stories should.

Thanks for the memories, James

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As it’s October, I thought it suitable to mention a writer who has ‘been with me’ since my teens. True, one of the first horror books I ever read was by Stephen King. The book was Salem’s Lot, if anyone is wondering. But for a long time, my favourite ‘horror writer’ was James Herbert. When I heard of his death, I experienced that jaw-dropping moment when one doesn’t want to believe the news and can remember the moment as though it happened this morning.

I place the term ‘horror writer’ in quotes because Herbert was never entirely happy with being categorised and had his share of mixed reviews. He felt any violent or horror-related work met a certain brand of snobbery. It’s a problem I completely understand and why I label my horror writing as Dark Fiction, precisely because many stories flank other topics and genres.

Some horror writers aren’t, truly, writing what I call horror even if there’s an element of that in the story. Some of Herbert’s work became blended with the paranormal (he said himself that his later works leaned to the supernatural), fantasy, and I have always felt a large part of his compositions contained humanitarian questions and shone an ugly reflection on society. In Herbert’s own words, some of what he had to say regarding his motivations and underlying themes might surprise many.

I recall one particular mention of the seemingly oversized rats in his books: Rats, Lair, and Domain. A line in Dracula may have inspired the trilogy, but the description and size of the rodents came from the creatures he saw in the overrun areas of the East End of London in which he grew up. Having seen ‘Rodents of Unusual Size’ (some readers will know where I borrowed that from and it’s not Herbert), I’m prepared to believe. Some can look bigger or at least match the size of small dogs.

There’s also how much is too much? Yes, violence (and sex) can be gratuitous, but I’ve also believed a writer should ‘write’ and not fear showing something as it is or would be. Herbert wasn’t a writer who feared to call a ‘spade a spade’ and preferred to give an honest portrayal of any scene. Of course, his writing, which was ignored or even banned when first published, is thought of as more commonplace now. Books and films deemed once to be adult viewing can be now found in school libraries.

It will surprise some readers that I read or even like the horror genre, despite my saying constantly that I read anything and everything. Truth is, I grew up on horror books. My teen years were romances (usually Mills & Boon because that was what my friends were reading), Herbert, King, and Steinbeck. I’m serious when I say my library is eclectic.

I suppose I also admired Herbert because he was a success story — well known and British. The young writer in me couldn’t help being a little envious. So much happened to me throughout those years. My life went through so many changes. What I read during that time blends with all the other memories. Lately, I’ve felt the pull to return to those roots with my writing. Though, to date, it’s been strictly short stories I plan to try my first Dark Fiction novel soon, and I’m sure I’ll be thinking of Herbert when I do.

My tribute will be a simple one: many, many thanks for the memories, James.