Monday 29 July 2013

80 Books No.60: Young Bess by Margaret Irwin


Although I always enjoy a historical monarchical novel, it seemed especially fitting in the week the latest heir to the British throne was born. A pretty tenuous link but it meant I could post a completely gratuitous photo from the many I've enjoyed over the last week:



It was only after I'd bought this book that I realised it was not one of those five-a-penny Philippa Gregory copycats that I usually end up reading, but a novel which pre-dated Gregory by quite a way. This was first published in 1944, and even the film of it was made and released before Gregory was even born. This therefore was a bit of a find.

This is set later than the other Tudor court novels I've read this year and is the first in a trilogy. This first part explores the young Elizabeth I's life before her battle for the throne began in earnest. It therefore covers similar ground to The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir which I read almost exactly four years ago. There are several fundamental differences to the stories the two writers weave, but they are both grounded in quite a lot of fact.

Young Bess was hard-going at first and I found the first couple of chapters a bit of a chore. However, once the story kicked off properly (basically once Henry VIII was dead and buried) it became far more enjoyable. I was really rooting for Thomas Seymour even though I knew it was never going to end well for him. I always think the sign of a good historical novel is that you still hope for the best even when you know the real story, and Irwin has done that in spades here.

There were some distractions. The focaliser kept shifting, so whilst this was supposed to be about Young Bess, at times were in Edward Seymour's office and miles away from the young princess. Also a distraction, though almost certainly only for me, was that Anne Boleyn was constantly referred to as 'Nan Bullen'. What was better here than in Dunn's The Queen of Subtleties was that Irwin avoided having to rely on diminutives of people's names in order to differentiate between the many Henrys, Annes, Catherines and Edwards. It was just sort of a case of having to suck it up and realise that everybody in Tudor England had the same name.

Which brings me back around to the Royal Baby, in a way. There has been so much media hype around the birth, hype I've willingly bought into because I have a complete couple-crush on the Cambridges. For a whole 30 seconds my hair looked Kate-esque today - then it got out of control again. I looked positively polished.

Anyway, aside from my obsessions, reading all these Tudor novels and comparing them to how the media and general public deal with the monarchy now is fascinating, not least in some of the online posts I've seen about where Prince Philip is at the moment. I've read countless opinions about how he must be more sick than we know and they're keeping us in the dark (not as crazy as it may seem - Irwin claims that Henry VIII was dead for three days before it was announced). These opinions tend to then drift onto 'when the Queen dies' which highlights just how far we've come from the times Gregory, Irwin, Weir and co write about. One of Anne Boleyn's crimes was treason, a charge which could be laid at her door due to the suspicion that Elizabeth was not Henry's daughter, but also because she'd allegedly been heard to talk about 'when the King dies'. To suggest the monarch would die, at some point, in the far distant future, was treason. This seems utterly bonkers to us in the 21st century but was a real crime in Henry VIII's day.

So whilst people may moan about the birth of another generation of the Royal family, at least we can comfort ourselves with the fact that any speculation over the monarch's health won't land our heads on the block anymore.

Another gratuitous picture for good measure:

80 Books No.59: The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs by Christina Hopkinson


It's more chick-lit. But, I like to think, chick-lit beyond the romance and dating and stuff. Here, the story picks up about nine years after the ending of a traditional chick-lit (boy and girl waltz off into the sunset together) and finds boy and girl as dad and mum of two under-fives and struggling. As Mary's irritation with Joel's apparent ineptitude at being a responsible husband and father increases, she decides to keep a list of everything he does that annoys her and use it to help decide whether to divorce him.

Okay, so it's pretty bonkers as a concept: I would imagine few divorces are quite so calculated and methodical in their origin. Also, Mary and Joel are two very un-chick-lit-esque names, perhaps deliberately. And also, it's completely put me off getting married or having children as it just seems so much effort. I spent two hours faffing with my hair today and I'm far too selfish to give that up.

But aside from my own complete self-absorption...

The bonkers concept does translate itself into several other bonkers instances throughout the novel, not least Mary and Joel witnessing their friends in a weird sexual encounter. It goes off at tangents as well, with Mary's lesbian best friend debating whether to have children or not, but ultimately this was a book I actually quite enjoyed, as it was quite witty, warm-hearted and, despite the bonkersness, was rooted in some reality. Mary and Joel weren't perfect and life was quite mundane for them. And why can't we have some average people in a novel for once?

80 Books No.58: While He Was Away by Karen Schrek


It's interesting how many books in recent years have been concerned with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan in a purely 'Home Front' way. Exploring what happens to families when their loved ones are away at war is an interesting concept, updating all those many many (many) slightly sentimentalised accounts of World War 2 which my mother enjoys reading. Nicholas Sparks especially seems to enjoy writing about war veterans in novels such as The Lucky One and Dear John.

The latter is especially appropriate when reviewing While He Was Away. In Schrek's novel, Penelope (or Penna as she is known though I have no idea how you get from Penelope to that) is facing the prospect of her boyfriend David being away in Iraq for fifteen months on a tour of duty. Once he returns, normal life will resume. However, things may not quite work out like that.

I liked the concept, as I enjoyed Dear John, and I think it's a valuable topic to be tackling, both in writing in general and in YA fiction. The relationship between Penna and David is a little too intense, but endearing. She is far too reliant upon him even before he goes to war, but there is some explanation in her upbringing. It therefore wasn't a complete waste of time.

Schrek introduces a number of different strands into the novel, however, which detract from this simple romance. Penna's relationship with her mother and absent grandmother, for example, is tied into the main narrative, but ultimately doesn't add anything to it really. Likewise, her friendship with David's friend whose name I've temporarily forgotten is utterly pointless - she keeps reminding herself he is David's friend but literally only sees him once or twice, so why would she need to keep reminding herself of that fact? It seemed as though she was going to stray from David, yet she didn't.

The title suggested that things would change a lot While He Was Away, and in some respects they do: Penna gains more friends and semi-fixes her family. However, I was also expecting some reflection upon how David had changed While He Was Away and there was a very small part of that. The novel ends with him still only a few months into his tour of duty, so everything is still only being seen from Penna's point of view via Skype and e-mails. Perhaps a more interesting aspect could have been David's return home and what had happened for him in that time; perhaps Schrek will explore that in a subsequent novel.

Not a terrible book, but I'd actually recommend Dear John, both novel and film, over this one. Cause, you know, it's completely saccharine and cheesy...


 

... but it has Channing Tatum with his top off. So, total win.

Thursday 25 July 2013

The World's End



I pretty much knew before this film was even released that it wasn't going to knock me over sideways and make me want to see it again. I'm not sure why I knew this: I really liked Shaun of the Dead and enjoyed Hot Fuzz (although contrary to many people's views, I preferred the former which I might be able to explain in more detail below). There's nothing I particularly hold against those films but somehow, the premise of The World's End didn't grab me. I wouldn't have gone at all if I didn't happen to be free the night my friends went and there was zip on TV (I was also hoping for air-con at the cinema but that was knackered - standard).

The general premise is that a bunch of middle-aged guys get back together on the demands of one of them to finish a pub crawl they started twenty years previously. It becomes quite clear that the main character, Gary King, has never moved on from this pub crawl, and that everybody else thinks he's an idiot. They get to pub three before they lose patience with him and say they're going home.

And then they realise everybody else is a robot.

Shaun of the Dead was clever because it really looked carefully at the zombie movie genre and played upon it, with Shaun, a completely useless specimen of man, suddenly charged with tackling these zombies. The fight scenes are amusing because they're exactly what would happen when idiots have to protect the world. Hot Fuzz did a similar thing with cop films, although that began to blend with horror films a little more; a definite The Wicker Man vibe going on, which is probably why I prefer Shaun, as it's 'purer'.

In The World's End, the general genre is something I can't quite put my finger on. It's obviously supposed to sci-fi, but there were slightly too many other things mashed together to make it work brilliantly for me. If I'm honest, I was more interested in the pub crawl than defeating the robots, and the fact that there was no indication of it being more sci-fi-esque from the film itself until the first fight scene meant that it jarred a little. Shaun worked because the zombie-thing was foreshadowed quite early on.

The performances are all very good in the film, and Simon Pegg pulls off a very different character from in the previous two films, as does Nick Frost. It was nice to see a bit of a role reversal between these two, where Pegg played the childish idiot and Frost played the more together role. The other actors did a good job as well.

The film was a lot shorter than I expected, but I didn't actually realise this until I got home and saw the time. I think my perception was distorted as the second half of the film lagged a little. I especially wasn't bothered by the very ending of the film, where Frost's character narrated what happened next. It was, I suppose, very in-keeping with the sci-fi genre, but just felt a bit tagged on to me.

It was funny in places, although more of a smile than a guffaw I found. There was a lot to commend about the film in terms of its dialogue which was quite good and the characterisation. Overall, though, it doesn't stand up against its predecessors for me and I'm glad it was an EE Wednesday.

Then again, I'm a misery when it comes to films lately. There is nothing I'm excited about coming out for months, which makes me quite weird when held up against the general population, it seems.

Ah well.

80 Books No.57: Gentleman's Relish by Patrick Gale


My second collection of short stories of the year and my second Patrick Gale book as well. I was driven to buy and read this based upon my enjoyment of both of these factors, and that I think I should read more short stories in general.

Gale is very good at characters and making you care about them, so perhaps this is what lets this collection down. The stories are reasonable enough and well written, but I just found myself thinking 'and?' at the end of every one. Short stories to my mind should have some sort of twist, something Roald Dahl and Stephen King are very good at. Indeed, on several occasions whilst reading these I found myself wishing one of these had written it instead as they'd have done it more justice.

I'm not going to let this put me off short stories or Patrick Gale, but this was pretty disappointing.

Wednesday 24 July 2013

80 Books No.56: Janie Face to Face by Caroline B Cooney


You know when you had a really brilliant holiday somewhere and then you go back to try and replicate it and it's never the same? This book is that for me. It's not that I hated it (you know you'd know about it if I hated it) but I was disappointed.

A bit of background would help with this.

Caroline B Cooney novels are a bit of a special thing. As in, something not everybody is ever going to get on board with. Here's a selection of the book covers of her books I have read in the past:


 
 
Check out the hair and the high-waisted jeans. Wonder how on earth I ended up with a German version of Don't Blame the Music. Cringe at the dodgy titles. These are 80s-90s YA fiction, completely unashamedly cheesy but endlessly entertaining. I mean endlessly: I must have borrowed Cooney's books from the library on almost a repeat for the best part of two years when I was about twelve or thirteen. I even bought Camp Reunion and Don't Blame the Music off the library when they threw them out: even my local library thought they were outdated.
 
However, it would be entirely remiss of me to laugh at these novels. Yes, they read a bit clunkily, but they were far from disposable YA chick-lit. In reality, they were quite something else. I was just graduating from pony books by the Pullein-Thompsons (a whole different brand of vintage) and then I came across these, which felt so much more grown-up. The best way I can describe them is a little like The Babysitters' Club, only grittier. In Summer Love/Camp Reunion, girl meets boy and sometimes boy turns out to be a complete let down. The stunningly attractive girl or boy might be nice or not. In Don't Blame the Music, sisters become dangerous to their entire family. This was high-drama and bitter-sweet endings. I was obsessed.
 
And my obsession was mainly centred around the Janie Johnson series, books I touched upon in a review very recently. This series revolved around Janie, an ordinary girl who recognises her own face on a missing poster and then realises that her parents are not a real family. The novels trace her search for her 'real' parents and the explanation over what happened, as well as her tentative relationships with her long-lost siblings, parents and how her 'adoptive' parents cope with this revelation. Not to mention how her boy-next-door boyfriend supports her - but then completely screws her over. There was a made-for-TV movie which was awful but brilliant at the same time.
 
Frankly, I LOVED these books.
 
I was vaguely aware that there were some more books in the series published much more recently, but it was only when I found this at the most recent book sale I attended that I gave it much thought. I've skipped Book 4 and the e-book and gone straight for Book 5, which Cooney is adamant will be the last one. Frankly, it should be.
 
Here, Janie is at college. Her boy-next-door boyfriend is in her life but they're not together. She's trying to juggle both families, but basically abandoning her now elderly and sick 'adoptive' family. And then a true-crime writer contacts everybody she knows asking for help with writing her story. Interspersed with this story, is what happened to Hannah, her 'adoptive' parents' real daughter and Janie's kidnapper.
 
This could have had legs. It would have been more interesting to see Janie co-operating with the true-crime writer, than what she actually did - generally paying it no attention whatsoever. Indeed, Janie is largely oblivious to most of what really happens in this novel due to her sudden decision to marry the boy-next-door boyfriend in ten days. It is therefore left to all the other characters to maintain any real link to the original story. Perhaps somebody close to her selling her out would have been fun, although already explored in Book 3. Hannah's narrative could have been more interesting if it was given more time and she was allowed to develop more as a character. Cooney very much kept her as comic-book villain rather than a real threat, something highlighted particularly by the complete lack of a climax to the story.
 
Also annoying was the time-scale of this series. Book 1 came out mid-90s and the action here was supposed to be set five years after those events. So why did everybody have Facebook, iPads and mobile phones? So much action revolved around these things (sometimes in a very interesting manner, it has to be said) that it jarred with the origins of the series. It was as though Cooney forgot herself. She also forgot herself with some characters. A good proof reader should have picked up that Brian claimed he'd never worn a tuxedo as he never went to prom, but three pages later detailed he didn't need to rent a tux as he already had one from his days in a choir. Shocking continuity.
 
Ultimately, I'm not sure who this book is aimed at. People like me, who read the originals, are really too old for this book now, but the YA audience are likely never to have heard of the Janie Johnson series.
 
Also, I don't get the cover.
 
Please, Cooney, leave this series alone.

80 Books No.55: Going Too Far by Jennifer Echols


I'm going to keep this one quite brief as I'm struggling to say much about it.

Like A Perfectly Good Man, this was a (wait for it) perfectly good book. By that, I don't mean it was perfect: the relationship between Meg and John was too rushed in my opinion and didn't tie in with the blurb. The blurb said that Meg was going to be punished for her (minor) criminal behaviour by having to ride in John's cop car for a week, and that neither of them were really for it. In contrast, John seemed to be very much up for it from the start, and Meg was up for it in a slightly different way, as she immediately developed a crush upon the officer. This lacked real friction for me, and I would have liked to see it all be a bit more snarky and irritable to begin with. Later in the novel, Meg overcame John's anger too quickly as well, as the author geared up for a fairytale ending, which was a bit of a shame as I'd like their characters.

Likewise, there were some obvious moments, or at least obvious if you've ever read any of Nicholas Sparks' novels, specifically A Walk to Remember; this is very similar but with a happier ending and fewer moral issues. However, the chemistry between Meg and John was good and it definitely passed the time.

Tuesday 23 July 2013

80 Books No.54: You Had Me At Hello by Mhairi McFarlane


You know my assertion way back in March that I don't really get on with chick-lit? Perhaps I should revise that. Admittedly this is only the fourth chick-lit novel I've read this year, and of those four, perhaps only two of them (actually including this one) could be deemed books I genuinely really quite enjoyed. But none of them have been books I've flung across the room in a 'what the hell is this?' kind of fit (unlike Once Upon a Prince which is still making my blood boil). So perhaps me and chick-lit  could get on after all.

This one was a pretty standard read: Rachel ditches her fiancé just before the One Who Got Away walks back into her life complete with picture-perfect wife. Lots of angst, some sparky repartee and some mildly comedic moments before coming to a reasonably predictable ending.

However, it stands out as a more superior form of chick-lit than some for the following reasons:

1. It's written for people with a brain. I've read so many chick-lit books that are written using super-basic English as if women can't read complex sentences. The characters are 2D and everything is just geared up in order to describe some cringe-worthy sex scenes. Speaking of which...

2. There are hardly any cringe-worthy sex scenes. There is one sex scene involving the main characters which is actually quite endearing.

3. The characters are quite pleasant and nice. It is a bit Bridget Jones in places, but most chick-lit is influenced by that anyway, so forgivable.

The storyline does swing a bit like a pendulum towards the end as the main characters are unable to make their minds up about anything, a trait which annoys me with real people, but I can overlook in print. It was a quick and mostly enjoyable read.

Sunday 21 July 2013

80 Books No.53: The Book of Lies by Mary Horlock


I know it's wrong to judge a book by its cover, but come on, just look at it. That is one seriously hot cover. I always like a black book cover as I've discussed before and this is whole shades of black and grey which makes it look really mysterious and creepy. The title is also so straightforwardly bold, as it's essentially acknowledging its own unreliable nature which in many ways sums up fiction in general: fiction is a lie.

The book also has a brilliant blurb on the back. A simple quotation from the novel itself, it reads as follows:

“It’s been a fortnight since they found her body and for the most part I’m glad she’s gone. But I also can’t believe she’s dead, and I should do because I did it.”  
 
 
Straight away we're into the world of troubled teenagers and death and suspicious circumstances, and as I've said time and time again, this is totally up my street. What's more, this has an unreliable narrator, a dual narrative and a quirky style of writing. What's not to love here?
 
Now, this won't be everybody's cup of tea. Set in Guernsey in both the 1980s and the 1940s, it tells the story of Catherine who has inadvertently killed her friend/enemy, and her uncle Charlie who inadvertently betrays his whole family during the German Occupation in World War 2. Neither of them are wholly sympathetic characters and yet I ended up pitying both of them. Horlock skilfully binds their two narratives together, both through content and style of writing. There were so many individual threads which tied together so well, in a way I've never seen done quite as well before. The style of writing, utilising footnotes with references to other fictional books added a level of veracity that I enjoyed, and yet this also helped to destabilise the narrative as it was, ultimately, a book packed full of lies, both between the characters and between author and writer. The open-ended nature of the novel was also enjoyable as Horlock treats the reader as an intelligent being who doesn't need everything spelt out for them.
 
All in all, an enjoyable read.
 


Saturday 20 July 2013

80 Books No.52: Girl, Missing by Sophie McKenzie


This is a highly popular YA novel, winning and being nominated for loads of awards in the last few years. Sophie McKenzie is a generally highly respected author for young adults and I've read some stuff by her before; mainly the Medusa Project novels, or at least some of them.

The basic premise of the story is that Lauren knows she is adopted but can't get her parents to tell her anymore than that. After some basic research, she finds a photo of a missing girl from about eleven years ago in America - and somehow decides that she is one and the same. From there, through some very tenuous plot twists and turns, she ends up meeting her birth family.

This storyline is so similar to a series from the 90s known as the Janie Johnson series. There were some differences: Janie discovers that her 'parents' are actually her grandparents, before they all discover she was actually stolen by their daughter. From there she meets her birth family and all the things associated with it. There was also an enjoyably terrible made-for-TV movie in 1995.

I can see why Girl, Missing has so many fans. It is pacey and doesn't let up for a minute. There's an element of romance and the excitement of a thriller. The reader is taken on quite a journey from the start of the novel to the end. My favourite section was when Lauren had met her birth parents and family and was trying to adjust. It would have been nice to have explored these feelings further, something which the Janie Johnson series did brilliantly.

Unfortunately for this book, the main character Lauren was, as her boyfriend remarked, 'one of the most self-obsessed people in existence'. This does change slightly towards the end, but she isn't especially likeable. She jumps to far too many conclusions too quickly, partially as a necessity to keep the plot moving forward. One could argue that this is aimed at young adults and so needs to be sensational and fast-moving, but again, the Janie Johnson series was far superior to this.

Also, this book has two sequels Sister, Missing and Missing Me. In the second, it seems that history repeats itself as Lauren's 'new' sister is kidnapped and put in danger, something which both happened to Lauren originally and also happened to the list in Girl, Missing. Missing Me jumps the shark even further by my assessment of the plot as the sister discovers she and Lauren were conceived by sperm donor - so even Lauren's 'birth father' isn't her birth father - layer after layer of complications construed in order to tell a convoluted story. I could be cynical and say McKenzie is simply cashing in...

My advice: skip this and find Caroline B Cooney's novels instead. More of which in a later blog post.

Thursday 18 July 2013

80 Books No.51: Once Upon a Prince by Rachel Hauck


A Monster Calls inspired me to high emotion due it its sheer brilliance. There are a lot of books I've felt quite ambivalent about this year and sometimes struggled to write a very engaging post about.

This is not one of those books.

Once Upon a Prince has driven me to high anger. So much so that I was breaking off between reading paragraphs in order to tut, groan, sigh disgustedly or exclaim 'oh for God's sake!' How I got through it in the end is almost beyond me, except I shamelessly skim read the last seventy pages in a desperate desire to move onto something, anything which wasn't this embarrassing mess.

Admittedly the title and premise never promised anything Nobel prize winning. It is, after all, essentially the Julia Stiles film The Prince and Me with slightly older characters and no Ben Miller. Whenever I wonder what happened to Julia Stiles, The Prince and Me should probably be a heavy clue, but I enjoy it for what it is: pure escapism. The storyline is improbable and ridiculous, but somehow manages to be superior to Katie Holmes's First Daughter which shares some similar themes.

So the pretty awful title and premise wouldn't have put me off in themselves. Even the first couple of chapters didn't put me off. The point at which my eyes first rolled up to the heavens was when the prince was revealed as being the prince of Brighton Kingdom. Like, what? Brighton? Had this writer never heard of the place in England or was this some kind of terrible in-joke? Whatever it was, it was horrendous and made me tut every time I came across it.

I read on a bit and then hit the point where almost every page had some reference to how God was guiding Susanna and Nathaniel through things. Now I'm far from anti-religious, but this was just too much. At the moment when Susanna tried to explain to the paparazzi that they hadn't been doing anything naughty in the church overnight but had 'spent the night in worship and prayer', I just about vomited in my own mouth for her sanctimonious stupidity. I mean, they had spent the night in worship and prayer, but this supposedly intelligent woman of twenty-eight was expecting the gutter press to believe this? What planet was she (or the writer) living on?

The careless name dropping of 'William and Kate' on several occasions was pure tackiness. I like the Royal couple as much as anybody but this was cheap and nasty. The author's own assertion at the end that she was inspired to write the story by their wedding puts unfair blame upon them for this travesty of 'literature' and besides, she wasn't inspired by that: she was inspired by 2004's The Prince and Me and needs to realise her ideas are about as original as mine.

And then came the hideous ending to the story, which I won't even apologise for spoiling because this book spoils itself by its own existence. The novel had reminded the reader repeatedly that, even if Susanna could ever open up her heart to Nathaniel properly (which she was finding difficult due to some unknown traumas in childhood), they could never marry as Susanna was American and not Brighton-born. This went on and on and on... until suddenly Nathaniel realised he was now king and could suggest this law was changed - and there was no opposition! Not a single person said 'hang on, you're changing laws to suit yourself and not considering your country which the law was designed to protect and for a generally pretty good if archaic reason'. This is basically how Disney's Aladdin ends, but Aladdin is for children and Once Upon a Prince is for adults, and basically Rachel Hauck needs to have a word with herself and get real.

Contender for worst book of the year. And this seems to be part of a series?! I need to look at this picture to calm my blood pressure. Here's a proper prince.

80 Books No.50: The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Hann


Sarah Dessen, my favourite YA author, endorsed this book and it had the sort of format she'd use, so I thought I'd dip in as it was only £2. The title does suggest something slightly more shallow than you actually get, although not much more, and the theme raised by it (somebody suddenly being noticed by people who've never looked twice before) could have been made more explicit in my opinion.

The story itself was harmless enough: a girl goes to the beach as she does every summer and suddenly all these boys she's ever known start taking an interest. She lost her heart long ago to Conrad, the elder of two brothers, but it's the younger brother, Jeremiah, who has spent time with her in recent years. The premise seemed to be she'd have to choose between them.

However, into this mix they through a third boy whose name sort of escapes me right now because he was seriously badly treated by the girl (who willingly goes by the name Belly - short for Isabella: who does that?!). This sort of distracts the whole focus from the Conrad-Jeremiah dilemma and in fact basically phases Jeremiah out altogether which makes the book generally much less interesting: I wanted brother warfare.

Belly (urgh) is supposed to be a likeable girl, I think, and if the author had played up how she's always felt left out by Conrad, Jeremiah and her brother, she might have been more appealing. However, her constant swinging between the two boys (and basically ignoring Jeremiah) is pretty tedious, especially as Conrad is so moody and has never given her any reason to like him.

The story then becomes more serious and throws all of Belly's (urgh) mundane romantic pursuits into stark relief. There are apparently two sequels to this, and I'm partially intrigued, partially repulsed.

Monday 15 July 2013

80 Books No.49: The Love Song of Jonny Valentine by Teddy Wayne


I have a confession to make. It's pretty shameful. I'm an avid reader of the MailOnline's Sidebar of Shame. It's toxic but addictive, seeing celebrities completing the most mundane chores and judging them completely for having half of an inch long roots or an extra 0.5lbs spare around the middle. I should know better, yet I keep going back for more.

There is, of course, almost nothing the general public enjoy more than setting somebody up before watching them crash to the ground at top speed. Child stars are of particular interest, and so I come to this book. It's all about an eleven-year-old popstar on a make-or-break tour which could signal the end of his career, something his manger-mother isn't really helping with. It's basically Justin Bieber, but bear with me.

I read this quickly, partially because I wanted to see what happened - partially because I sort of just wanted to finish it. It wasn't that this was an awful book. Indeed, in places, it was very interesting and well-written. There were some eventful moments and it seemed to give some insight into what living like this would be like for a young boy. It was the way the young boy was drawn which was a little strange for my liking; I know a lot of eleven-year-old boys and none of them really behave in this manner. Admittedly, none of them have grown up in the spotlight which would affect anybody, but what Wayne hasn't managed to do here is to fully capture a pre-teen's voice in the same way that Emma Donoghue managed to capture a five-year-old's voice in Room. It's a tough ask, but then it is an ask he set himself in choosing Jonny as his narrator. I also think it could have been a more interesting story if Jonny was a little older, an actual teenager as opposed to on the borderline between child and teen; it would definitely have afforded greater scope in content and emotional range.

So it was an alright read, although not top five. Still for £2, can't wholly complain*.

*Re: this £2 thing which will probably crop up again in the near future and has done in blogs in the past: I'll share a little secret. The Book Trade Charity runs booksales of brand new books every 3 or 4 months. Here, you can get new and sometimes as-yet-unpublished books for £2 (paperback) and £3 (hardback), as well as many other bits and bobs at various prices. It really is amazing - it's like a really cheap book shop full of stuff you'd never normally consider. Here's the website: http://booktradecharity.wordpress.com/bookfairs/ It's definitely worth a visit.

Sunday 14 July 2013

80 Books No.48: Pretty Little Liars by Sara Shepherd



Oh good grief. If you know me, you'll probably have been bored to tears by my talking about the TV series Pretty Little Liars in the last six months. I've become hooked, and it's so frustrating that season 2 has yet to be released on DVD in this country. I watched season 1 in record time because it's so amazing and pacy and exciting and just frankly SHINY that it has be watched. Nobody in Rosewood is unattractive; nobody is what they seem. It's INCREDIBLE.

So my excitement at finding book one of the original novels in a book sale yesterday was second to none, hence how I read it in about three hours. There was little new here for me as I've already watched the whole series and this probably covers episodes 1-5 at a guess, although not quite in the same order. It was interesting to notice the subtle differences between the two versions: the novel is far less ethnically diverse, with all four 'liars' seemingly mostly Caucasian, whilst in the TV series having a range of backgrounds for the girls. I would also say the TV series perhaps paces itself better as secrets are kept longer, and as the whole series is based upon secrets and lies, that kind of works better than things being more public knowledge as in the novel.

What the novel does do is allow the reader more of an insight into the characters' heads. Aria and Hanna were my favourite characters from the TV show, and continue to be here, but become more human and relatable as Aria struggles to know how to fit into Rosewood again and Hanna struggles with her weight. So far Ali hasn't come across as quite such a bitch as in the TV show, but there's time in the rest of the series.

Still, this is totally filling the void whilst I endlessly click refresh on Amazon waiting for season 2. In the meantime, here's the totally awesome opening from Pretty Little Liars. Remember: two can keep a secret if one of them is dead ;)

80 Books No.47: The Queen of Subtleties by Suzannah Dunn


I'm a sucker for Tudor fiction despite never having found anything as good as Philippa Gregory's and Hilary Mantel's offerings. There's something so very enticing about the sexy glamorous world of Henry VIII's court, where things happen which put our modern Royals to shame. It's a world which has rich pickings for a good novelist who can stomach the extreme amount of research necessary to achieve success.

The Queen of Subtleties tries to find a fresh angle on a subject which has been frankly hammered to death. Here, in quite a rare move, Dunn chooses Anne Boleyn as one of her narrators, whilst the other half of the story is told by an entirely unlikely character: the king's confectioner. Quite how Dunn came up with this idea is anybody's guess, as it's a strange one, and quite tenuous: it is entirely unrecorded whether the king's confectioner had ever met Mark Smeaton let alone seemingly fallen for him, so it falls down on the research almost before it starts.

Anne Boleyn is one of my favourite historical characters. Sort of like a more ruthless Kate Middleton, what she achieved in her relatively short life is almost always overshadowed by her scandalous death. History likes to trample on women so let's just take a moment here: she enticed one of the most powerful men in the world despite being of relatively low birth; she supposedly held out from giving him what he wanted for seven years, despite there being clear evidence to show he usually had women as when he wanted them; because of her, at least in part, he divorced the daughter of the power couple of the world at that time and created the Church of England. He broke with ROME for goodness sakes, when he could have made a more judicious match with a French princess which would have gone down much better with the Pope at the time. The changes brought about in these ten years have had ramifications down the centuries, and at the heart of is this reportedly quite average looking woman.

So in theory, Dunn's choice of narrator should make for a good read. It's readable enough, and Boleyn's narrative is infinitely superior to that of the confectioner which is largely boring and pointless because it is almost certainly entirely fabricated. What this book was, though, was unoriginal as it shed no fresh light upon this well-known story and didn't encourage any sympathy towards the main characters. It was also poorly constructed in terms of sentences which had commas all over the place, like a child who has only just learned that they exist.

If you want to read about the Tudor court, don't waste your time on this; go for Gregory or Mantel and you'll get a far more interesting read.

80 Books No.46: Shouting at the Telly edited by John Grindrod


By now it should be fairly obvious that my passion is fiction and, whilst I know that I should read more non-fiction, I can rarely get involved in it. I think it's similar to why I can't really get enthusiastic about sport; I like things with a narrative which slots together nicely, and football matches or test cricket doesn't work in the way I want it to.

Therefore, it should be no surprise that this is only the second non-fiction book I've read this year. My previous read, Spell it Out by David Crystal was all about the etymology of words in the English language. This book was far less high-brow. Shouting at the Telly is a collection of short articles (essays sounds far too pretentious for the subject matter) about television. Intended to be humorous, they touch upon such important things as whether Freddie from Scooby Doo is a pervert or whether Ken Barlow is more real than anybody born after him. In other words, it's about as educational as the last lesson at the end of term.

There were comments in here which made me smile with recognition, such as how Alan Dale (aka Jim from Neighbours) has made a career out of having heart attacks and why people from Eastenders never leave the Square for anything. There were articles and indeed whole sections I skipped as they either didn't interest me or were beyond me, as I think this book is aimed at somebody possibly a generation older than me due to the references. It was a decent enough book to dip into, but it hasn't converted me to a love of things factual and non-fictional.

Sunday 7 July 2013

80 Books No.45: The Mystery of Mercy Close by Marian Keyes


Marian Keyes is, as far as I am concerned, the reigning queen of chick lit. I've said before that me and chick lit fell out a while ago, but that I do make exceptions, and Marian is one of my exceptions. I have read every one of her novels, even Sushi for Beginners which was a bit of a chore (although the heroine's parents lived in my hometown - how strange). Her most recent books have been a bit divisive. The Brightest Star in the Sky had such a horrendously saccharine ending that I sort of wanted to burn the book, whilst This Charming Man was criticised by many fans for being overlong (I actually enjoyed it enough to read it twice).

Her Walsh family novels, however, have always been winners. Watermelon, Angels, Rachel's Holiday and Anybody Out There? deal with four of the Walsh sisters and their journeys through (variously), single parenthood, being boring, addiction and bereavement. The skill Keyes has always had is to make the sister she's writing about at the time be your favourite, although secretly Rachel has always been my favourite as Rachel's Holiday is frankly sublime.

And so here is book five, and presumably the last one as we've now run out of Walsh sisters. In this one, the youngest sister, Helen, is dealing with the aftermath of a depressive episode whilst being involved in finding a missing popstar. As you can see, it mingles serious with quite frivolous, albeit not quite as spectacularly as Rachel's Holiday does (just read it, it's immense). Helen was always the sister I was least able to like but here she's grown up a lot and had life experiences of her own, making her a more appealing character. In some ways, she is very different from the character in other novels, though whether this is down to age or the fact she is narrating her own story is open to debate.

What is clear in this novel is that Keyes is writing very firmly from the heart. In Rachel's Holiday she dealt with addiction, something likely informed by her own battle with alcoholism. Here, she deals with depression, something which almost scuppered her ever writing again. It was this element which made The Mystery of Mercy Close stand out for me; the descriptions of depression in it really bring home how terrifying this illness must be and brought it to life for someone who has never experienced it. Whilst the storyline is a bit convoluted and it could do with some editing, this novel is worth a read simply to be immersed in the life of somebody dealing with such an illness.

Wednesday 3 July 2013

80 Books No.44: The Hunger Games - Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins


Alas, Collins couldn't keep it going. I think having re-read this, I think even less of Mockingjay than I did before. Which is a real shame because I love the trilogy and this could have been good. I think the main problem is that the story has almost run out of steam - at least, that is, the story that began in The Hunger Games. Suddenly it all becomes bigger, and the really cool concept of teenagers killing each other for entertainment (come on, you knew this was what I really liked!) becomes a mere side product of a gigantic war and I hate war stories; it's why I've sacked off A Song of Fire and Ice.

Also, Katniss becomes such a doormat in this, constantly asleep or drugged or injured whilst everybody else makes decisions for her. Collins also kills off too many characters, although not, conveniently, anybody extremely vital to the story; she builds up or creates characters and then just bumps them off, which means you don't lose anyone you've invested in from book 1, but is a bit manipulative.

I think the film of this could be a bit tedious. We'll have to wait till 2014 to find out.

This is my shortest review, summing up my sheer disappointment in this novel.

80 Books No.43: The Hunger Games - Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

 
The weekend beginning 22nd November is going to be insanely amazing this year. 23rd November is the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who celebrated with a feature-length episode with Matt Smith, David Tennant and Billie Piper in - not to mention John Hurt. I'm actually going to explode.

However, before I explode, on 22nd November, I'm hoping to see The Hunger Games sequel Catching Fire. This re-read of the novel has only re-ignited my excitement for it, for the following reasons:

- the plot is good; I'd forgotten how good. In fact, in some ways it's better than the original because it throws you straight in with issues and character conflicts. The history with Katniss and Peeta means there's even more second-guessing and there's quite a bit more Haymitch, which is brilliant.

- Fennick is a cracking character. I'd forgotten about him too, but I'm excited. He better be hot and charming and live up to the character Collins has created.

- the arena is incredible in this one, so so clever. I loved the arena in the last one, but this one is a whole other level of great.

Aside from the film adaptation, this novel may actually be better written than the original, which is a nice surprise as I'd always remembered the series as deteriorating as it continued, much like the Chaos Walking trilogy did. My next review, however, is a bit of a disappointment...

Watch the trailer before that though

80 Books No.42: The Midwinter Child by FJ Reid

This was recommended on TES as a potential class reader and I quite liked the concept: modern day child receives the sword Excalibur and has to complete some quest vaguely connected with King Arthur. I like an Arthurian legend; actually I need to find Sunrise of Avalon by Anna Elliott to complete that trilogy - I've only just remembered that. Anyway, I like an Arthurian legend because it's sort of historical and yet fantastical as well - which makes it pretty cool.

Within about a page of The Midwinter Child, it was clear that this was either self-published or from some minor publishing house. The cover* and font and generally type-setting smacked of a lack of money and also it needed editing in some places, which led me to believe self-published. It's certainly available on Authonomy. This doesn't necessarily mean it's bad or anything, but it is quite a jarring experience to keep having to work out distances between letters and things. There were a few misplaced punctuation marks and things which did basically colour my decision on using this as a class reader. It was also a bit long and in places not amazingly written.

However, judging it on its own merits, it was an enjoyable enough read. The main character was reasonably engaging and there was a mystery and mythological element which I enjoyed. I found it difficult to get into at times, which may have been a reflection of my lack of concentration whilst reading it, but also that it wasn't the most attention grabbing book ever. Indeed, I skim read parts of it.

I probably read this too much with a teacher's hat on. Someone without a teacher's hat on give it a whirl.

* You'll have to trust me on that; I couldn't actually find a picture of the cover for this blog :(