I am a self-employed writer, which means I’m working for an idiot who doesn’t pay me enough – but the holidays are great.
I’m ex many occupations, from the respectable ‘career-ladder’ to disreputable “somebody’s- got-to-do-it”. All a good way of seeing someone else’s point-of-view. Best job, apart from writing, was dispatch-riding on a motorcycle in the 70s, though I’ve also enjoyed teaching, librarianship, counselling and helping to run a community-centre. Sometimes I’ve looked respectable in a suit, other times a bit more wild and woolly (though still stylish) as a biker. It’s strange how differently people treat you, depending on what you’re wearing. A suit means I’m sometimes addressed as ‘sir’, but in motorcycle leathers I’m always referred to as ‘mate.’
The worst job that I’ve done ? You really don’t want to know, but it was in a processed food manufacturer’s factory – put me off bacon, sausages and quiches for a long time, and made me look at pet food in a new way. I’m very glad that I don’t have any pictures.
I’ve been writing since I was eight, when I penned a story about a desert island and attempted to compile a dictionary – as Clarissa does in my short story ‘The Moon Is Out Tonight’. I’ve written for magazines under a variety of pen-names, ghost-written a couple of biographies and had a column in a local newspaper.
I used to concentrate on non-fiction of an informative, how-to instructional nature, as I’m a firm believer in the dissemination of knowledge to enable people to do things for themselves. Knowledge is power, and in these troubled times of economic downturn and increased intrusion into our lives by government agencies, its vital to know how to get through. My fictional stories also show people coping and finding ways to survive.
I’m based in a Celtic nation, the county of Cornwall or Kernow. I’ve been here for twenty years, and have lived all over the country, as well as abroad in France, Germany, Switzerland, Spain and the U.S.A.
There are trends in storytelling, which spawn imitations. J.K. Rowling’s success with wizards led to a rash of similar books. Fifty Shades of Grey lubricated the thrust of mummy porn. More recently, there have been a host of novels with unreliable narrators, the best-known being The Girl on the Trainand Gone Girl.
Unreliable narrators have been around for ages, in such classics as Lolita, Wuthering Heights, The Great Gatsby andThe Catcher In The Rye. What goes around comes around, but I’ve found the recent novels told through the POV of a severely compromised narrator to be poorly written. This hasn’t stopped them selling in their millions, with film adaptations.
I had to force myself through The Girl on the Train, just to see what happened in the end. It’s not just me being grumpy, as others have criticised Paula Hawkins’ abilities.
She’s got a new novel out, Into The Water, which I haven’t seen a good reviewof yet. Critics’ unfavourable opinions won’t stop it becoming a bestseller, that also gets adapted into a Hollywood film. It’s galling to realise that novels which become popular only do so because readers are intrigued by the concept, not caring about the skill of the writing and that they buy a book because all of their friends have—it’s a social phenomenon—never mind the quality, feel the width.
For me, the main problem with Paula Hawkins’ and Gillian Flynn’s unreliable narrators was that I didn’t care what happened to them, or to the characters they interacted with, as most of them were weak, irritating and nasty too. Overall, I finished these bestsellers feeling depressed for the human condition.
I’ve written using an unreliable narrator in just one of my novels, so far. The Perfect Murdererwas told from a multiple POV, including the detective protagonist, his team, a pathologist and the suspects they were hunting. One was a serial killer, whose bizarre slayings aroused the bloodlust of an unsuspected career murderer, a retired chief of detectives who’d murdered a harden criminal every year for forty years. He was a member of the establishment, and the hardline views he expressed about crime didn’t suggest that he’d been taking things into his own hands. I differentiated between his thoughts and those of the serial killer by calling the latter ‘the killer’and the old copper ‘the murderer’.
I thought this device was obvious and guessable, so was pleased when my three readers were shocked at the twist in the tale. The copper’s ramblings and his homicidal campaign of retribution were caused by a brain tumour, which he escaped by committing suicide before he was arrested. Although he was a difficult man to like, and severely flawed, I managed to make him sympathetic.
Whatever you call it—relics, paraphernalia or realia—the objects discussed verge from touching to revealing to downright macabre. It smacks of trophy-taking to me, in the same way as serial killers keep mementoes of their victims…a button, lock of hair or body part!
There has to be a limit to what collectors will hoard (and admit to owning), based on taste and decency. Would the stones, that Virginia Woolf weighed her already heavy overcoat down with, be collectable? Her suicide letter certainly is. What about the empty shotgun cartridge shell, that once housed the pellets that Ernest Hemingway used to blow his head apart? Japanese novelist, Yukio Mishima committed seppuku, ritual suicide by disembowelling himself with a sword—is that blade a literary relic?
Having seen how a writer’s life and career are turned into a thriving business, when my nearest pub was Jamaica Inn, on Bodmin Moor, famed for Daphne du Maurier’s novel, I’m somewhat cynical about how some authors get deified. Having fifty coachloads of tourists visit a building every day, just because it was used as the location for a story is an odd way of showing devotion. In the UK, similar things occur with the Brontës, Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, George Bernard Shaw and Wordsworth. Whole tourist industries depend of people wanting to visit the homes of writers and places where they set their books, even if the tourists haven’t read the novel and only vaguely remember the film adaptation.
From time to time, an auction lot will receive publicity in the media, as being the desk of a famous writer, and some of them go for eye-watering prices.
All of this glorification of buildings, working tools, personal possessions, and even body parts and death masks, made me wonder what the hell I could leave behind for posterity—assuming, of course, that my Cornish Detective series brings me adulation!
Perhaps the scraps of card, that I cut from teabag and cereal boxes, to make on-the-fly notes about my WIP would be endlessly fascinating….How about the cooling cradle, that’s kept my ancient laptop functioning for nine years? My faded plastic library card has helped to preserve my sanity and being Cornwall Libraries, it carries an attractive photo of an abandoned engine house.
Getting personal, taking a death mask of my fizzog would be tricky, owing to beard and moustache, though my hands have been praised,by various girlfriends, for being attractive, and they sure do a lot of typing. My skin is as wrinkled as crumpled tissue paper, these days, and I wonder if the impressive scars (from fights and workshop accidents) would show? Failing that, I could break out the Viagra and go the Plaster Caster route…it’d be something for visitors to hang their coats on!
What literary relic would you leave to your adoring fans and academic scholars?
Keat’s death mask: sold at auction in 1996 for £16,100.
Vladamir Nabokov suggested that: “The writer’s job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them.”
It’s common advice from writing coaches, to endanger your protagonist, to set them challenges that they need to overcome to get to where they’re going—which is often simply returning the situation to normal. Think of what Frodo went through in The Lord of The Rings, just to get rid of that pesky ring.
No one likes a smart arse, and a completely indomitable hero would be boring, running the risk of making their opponents more appealing…which is always likely to happen anyway, as readers identify more with character flaws than moral strength. Fighting the system is more romantic than defending it. Far more murderers’ names are recalled, than the lawmen who captured or killed them.
A protagonist becomes more attractive when they show their humanity. If they make mistakes, especially if the reader knows they’re doing so and they don’t, it elicits sympathy and the reader gets behind their efforts. Such vulnerability needn’t make the hero sappy: we all know what sort of hand a velvet glove contains.
Some authors take their abuse of their protagonist to extremes. Jo Nesbö regularly throws his Swedish detective Harry Hole into ghastly situations, including being addicted to booze and drugs, getting captured and tortured, as well as framed and suspended from duties, beaten-up, stabbed and shot. In the first novel of the series The Bat, Harry is a fish out of water, investigating a serial killer in Australia and is also drinking like a fish!
I introduced my protagonist Detective Chief Inspector Neil Kettle standing on a Cornish beach in winter, looking at the nude corpse of a naturist, who appears to have been murdered. He’s trying not to think about the last time he was there, with his wife, who died in a traffic accident two years before. Hopefully, readers will sympathise with his state of mind, while admiring his fortitude in pursuing the killer.
He clings to his job as a way of coping with life, as he spirals down into depression, and it’s not until the end of Book 2 that he’s functioning anything like normal. He’s been brought low by his illness, but his detective colleagues have also faced threats—his ageing deputy is mugged and knocked unconscious and kickedhard enough to break ribs, prompting his retirement. In the next book, his replacement becomes the last victim of a serial killer, pounded to death with a primitive mace—a club with nails. On another case, a detective’s personal life is disrupted when a murdering husband and wife, disgraced intelligence agents with a grudge against society, hack into her emails. They glean enough information to attack the police force’s site, disrupting the investigation into them.
Various coppers get clobbered while making arrests, but Neil is cleverly poisoned by the ex-agents, who use poison-dart frog toxin to knock him out, sending him into hallucinations. Inthe last story, completed in 2018, in the penultimate chapter, Neil is stabbed and slashed, defending himself by almost battering his assailant to death with an extendable baton.
He’s in intensive care at the close of the story, in a coma and receiving blood transfusions. He faces suspension for his attack on the swordsman—who’s died.
I enjoyed putting my protagonist in jeopardy…burying him in an avalanche of violence with consequences for his career.
What rocks have you thrown at your characters?
How are they damaged by the threats to their life?
Various famous authors have said things about conscience and the writing process. Chekhov claimed: “I confess I seldom commune with my conscience when I write.”
Joseph Campbell, a key figure in writing theory, showed a little more restraint, but not much: “Writer’s block results from too much head. Cut off your head. Pegasus, poetry, was born of Medusa when her head was cut off. You have to be reckless when writing. Be as crazy as your conscience allows.”
Anne Lamott is more inclusive of her conscience, stating that taking a stance adds to the beauty of the work: “Writing takes a combination of sophistication and innocence; it takes conscience, our belief that something is beautiful because it is right.”
Leo Tolstoy advised: “Beware of anything that is not approved by your conscience.”
In writing stories, we have to choose where we stand.
The internet offers the ultimate get-out, absolving an author of responsibility for revealing information, for after all, if it’s online anyone could find it. Filmmakers have long been accused of inciting real-life violence by showing it on screen, with arguments that it does and that it doesn’t.
Film directors can get very touchy about the issue:
Do your stories have a message for good? It needn’t be heavy-handed and preachy
Or, do you worry that your book might deprave readers?
They say that “Clothes make the man.” Modern-day research has proved there’s a lot of truth in this old adage, with people making snap judgements based on what someone is wearing.
In my Cornish Detective series, I tend to avoid giving elaborate descriptions of my characters’ clothing. With the rugged landscape of the county, my coppers dress practically for the conditions, and my protagonist, Neil Kettle, favours leather jackets, sturdy Gore-Tex-lined walking boots and a full-length wax-proof Belstaff coat when it’s pouring down.
He also wears ‘costumes’ appropriate for his leisure activities, of motorcycle riding (full leathers), painting (an artist’s smock) and gardening—when he tends to go bare-chested, wielding his scythe on a meadow he’s growing, in Ross Poldark fashion.
Other detectives on Neil’s team have their own tastes in clothing, with one homely detective (the sharpest of the bunch) looking like “she should be baking a cake on a television commercial”, while her female colleague a lesbian ex-nurse, who’s a brown belt in karate, prefers form-fitting clothing that allows her ease of movement, as she “prowls like panther.” Neil’s second-in-command is British-Asian, a city lad, unused to the country, who’s trying to fit in by clothing himself in brogue shoes, corduroy trousers and tweed jackets from the farmers’ outfitters. A rugby-playing detective constable is huge, “as big as a wardrobe” and forced into buying clothing from a Big Man store. They all wear stab proof and bullet proof vests when going to make an arrest.
Despite their different clothing tastes, they all still look like coppers when out and about, which is one reason that Neil enjoys riding his chopper, dressed as a biker, as no one thinks he’s a policeman.
With my fictional villains, a serial killer is a master of disguise, from his time as a sniper in war zones, so wears camouflage outfits that blend into the landscape. In public, he strives to be unnoticeable, wearing bland clothing bought from charity shops, and regularly changing it, along with altering his facial appearance by the use of facial prosthetics and full head vinyl masks.
At the opposite extreme, the owner of a chain of massage parlours is a narcissistic self-publicist, favouring a gold lamé suit, golden-tanned skin from sunbeds, chunky gold jewellery and a gold Jaguar XJ8.
In my last novel, one of the witnesses is a heavily-muscled sculptress, who wears undistinguished dungarees and a T-shirt while pounding on granite to create a bust, but her arms are sleeved with ink from colourful tattoos. The antagonist of the story, an eccentric art gallery owner dresses as if he’s time-travelled from 125 years ago. He’s obsessed with paintings, preferring them to people, and has retreated to Victorian times in his attitude to women, foreigners and in what he wears. He favours handmade shoes, cufflinks, wing-collared shirts, hand-tied bow ties, three-piece suits, pocket watches and a silk-lined woollen cloak; to read anything, he perches pince-nez spectacles on the bridge of his nose.
As a break from writing novels, last year I penned the second tale in what will become a quartet of short stories about an American Civil War veteran. He’s trying to rebuild his life, as his country does the same thing in the Period of Reconstruction. Dressing him required much thought and research, for it was a treacherous time of divided loyalties—just because a peace treaty’s been signed doesn’t mean to say that the war has stopped raging in ex-soldiers’ souls. In a time of great poverty, many old warriors wore a combination of ex-army uniforms, treading a fine line over what was acceptable. My protagonist is suffering from PTSD, ever alert for ambush and has made himself into a walking arsenal, with weapons hidden all over his body. He’s modified his clothing to allow quick and easy access to revolvers, knives and a sawn-off shotgun. His full-length duster coat conceals a lot.
The lead character in a short story I wrote, about a man falsely accused of killing a young woman whose body his dog found while out on a walk in the country, is a retired-locomotive driver with zero interest in looking fashionable. He dresses for comfort, doing his own clumsy repairs to waterproof clothing, unaware of how peculiar and intimidating he looks…which becomes a factor in the case that’s built against him. I was inspired by an extraordinary photograph of the man who would be King—Prince Charles—wearing his favourite wax-proof coat covered in repair patches.
Have you created any characters fashion victims, obsessed with wearing the right label?
How do you decide what the protagonist of a fantasy story wears?
I’ve only written one story set in space, on Mars in the 23rd-century, and one of the trickiest aspects was getting the space suit, helmet and boots right. If you write sciencefiction, do you gloss over such details or do they become an integral part of the story?
What do ghosts wear? Presumably, their historical clothing gives them away.
It’s sometimes said that getting a bad review is better than getting no reviews at all. Some readers like checking out what a book is really like if there are loads of one and two-star reviews amongst higher ratings. As Oscar Wilde advised:“There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.“
Criticism can be succinct. The pithy humorist Ambrose Biercewas asked to evaluate a sleep-inducing tome and apparently, he handed in a caustic one-line review:“The covers of this book are too far apart.“
That doesn’t mean to say that harsh words don’t hurt. As Thomas Mann has written:
“Our receptivity to praise stands in no relationship to our vulnerability to mean disdain and spiteful abuse. No matter how stupid such abuse is, no matter how plainly impelled by private rancours, as an expression of hostility it occupies us far more deeply and lastingly than praise. Which is very foolish, since enemies are, of course, the necessary concomitant of any robust life, the very proof of its strength.”
“Listen very carefully to the first criticisms of your work. Note just what it is about your work that the reviewers don’t like; it may be the only thing in your work that is original and worthwhile.”
I was prompted into starting this thread, after reading a witty review of a 1973 British science fiction film, called The Final Programme, which was on the Talking Pictures channel of Freeview recently. Based on a novel written by Michael Moorcock, strangely, it was the only one of his books to be filmed. From the outset, it’s a mess, and curious about its history, I looked online. One critic found the film “an almost unmitigated disaster”, with “an ending so inane that you will want your money back even if you wait and see it on television.“
A poor review for a film can mean box office disaster, though there are plenty of movies that were savaged by critics, but loved by audiences. This tends to happen with a series of films, where the standard deteriorates: Scary Movie 5 was detested by the critics, but still filled theatre seats, making a profit of $58.4 million.
I thought that with books, readers would pay more attention to reviews, as it’s certainly one of the ways that I choose what to read, but according to several surveys I looked at, a tiny percentage, about 2%, cite reviews as being a determining factor. Rather, people choose by browsing within a genre they favour and look for authors they already know.
This should be encouraging, though there’s still the problem of how to get known in the first place. As unknown authors, if we’re self-publishing, we’re advised that it’s vital to get favourable book reviews, and hustlers made a lucrative living offering pay-for reviews.
I admit, that when looking for books to read, by requesting them from my public library, a bad review will put me off, though I retain loyalty to authors that I like so I may try a title that gets panned. Some fans of best-selling writers don’t care either way. At the time of writing, in April 2019, E.L. James has just published her first novel outside the 50 Shades series. Called The Mister, I’ve yet to see a good review of it.
I came across a quote by American figurative painter Alex Katz which set me wondering about the themes of my last novel.
It’s usually three-quarters of the way through writing a novel, that I pause to contemplate whether what I intended the underlying message of my story to be has actually been expressed. Also, has the story arc of my protagonist continued in a convincing way, staying true to his character established in previous novels?
A writer doesn’t have to be preachy to create a story that communicates something worth knowing about the human condition. As Julian Barnes commented:
“Books say: she did this because. Life says: she did this. Books are where things are explained to you, life where things aren’t.”
I like to think that once somebody has read one of my Cornish Detective novels, they might start thinking in a slightly different way about a contentious subject, such as illegal immigration and slavery. This was one component of Book 1, Who Kills A Nudist? with the antagonist, a criminal who was part of a worldwide network of human traffickers, treating people as goods—like the drugs and weapons he also smuggled.
The KISS principle of Keep It Simple, Stupid should apply to the underlying theme of a story, with your skill as a writer providing the artifice that enchants a reader into losing themselves in your words. But, it still has to ring true. As 20th-century best-selling novelist Margaret Culkin Banning advised:
“Fiction is not a dream. Nor is it guess work. It is imagining based on facts, and the facts must be accurate or the work will not stand up.”
I’ve given up on reading many a crime novel that was riddled with inaccuracies, depressed not just by the author’s laziness, but also at the slapdash inefficiency of whoever edited the manuscript at the publishers. Once upon a time, editors checked facts: they don’t seem to bother these days. At least these travesties motivate me into getting my facts right—while avoiding an information dump. I look upon such details as the interesting smells that makes a dog pause on its walkies—there to be briefly savoured—but not completely halting the journey.
With my last novel, the plot involves theft, forgery, artistic creativity, prostitution, bereavement, falling in love and murder, but the simple theme is that relationships are more important than money or possessions.
Now is the time of year when newspapers and websites are full of lists detailing critics and authors’ best books of the previous twelve months.
I gave my favourite reads of 2017, so I’ll continue the tradition with my baker’s dozen (or so) of favourite reads.
Not all of my choices were published this year, and there are several novels that are part of a long series, including a couple that are sequels or prequels to successful stories.
1)Lamentation by C. J. Sansom. The sixth story in the Matthew Shardlake series.
I can’t praise these books enough. Even if you don’t normally read historical fiction, you’d like them, as they hook the reader in. I prefer Sansom’s handling of the Tudor period to that of Hilary Mantel, as he has more warmth in his writing and conveys the fears of ordinary citizens better. A new story in the series was published in October, called Tombland.
2) Robicheauxby James Lee Burke. I’ve read all of the Dave Robicheaux series, and this is the twenty-first story. Burke is a writing heavyweight whose technique is something to aspire to. He gives a strong sense of place, tying historical events into contemporary attitudes with great characterisation.
A humbling read from a Professor of Anatomy and Forensic Anthropology, who literally knows death inside out. Not as macabre as you might think, with unexpected moments of humour, her memoir is gripping and full of wisdom.
An unexpected pleasure. I’d read favourable reviews, but Miller’s unusual approach to crime writing gave me food for thought, as he goes off at tangents, making his stories as much character portrayals as they are entertaining and involving mysteries.
I normally steer clear of alternate histories, but I liked the blurb on the cover of this novel that I picked up in the library. I was soon gripped, as the author’s premise of a continuing form of slavery was believable and there were plenty of ‘what-would-you-do?’ thrills. Good characterisation and an effective condemnation of corporate America. I preferred it to Colson Whitehead’s highly-praised The Underground Railroad.
I read this novel as part of my research into the world of art and forgery, for my latest Cornish Detective novel is set in the art colony of Saint Ives. I was captivated by the masterful writing and how the author wove two time periods into the narrative. Smith has a lightness of touch using arresting imagery that makes you think deeply about creativity and possession of the finished product.
A prequel to Practical Magic Hoffman’s most successful novel, and adapted into a Hollywood movie. The author weaves her spell in an entrancing way, making the reader believe that witchcraft has a place in contemporary society. Deft handling of intimate moments makes you feel a part of the story.
This book appeared on so many listicles, that it almost put me off reading it. I’m glad that I did, for it’s a mind-expanding challenge. The author makes some rather woolly assertions, which made me wonder if he was being deliberately provocative, as surely so and so was more likely….Damn it, he made me think!
After enjoying The Sisters Brothers, which was an offbeat Western, I wondered how the author would handle a modern setting. The plotting is off kilter, making you wonder what’s going to happen next…almost as if deWitt is throwing a dice to decide the action. The mother and son protagonists are not people you’d want to get too close to, as you’d be safer observing them at a distance. Gloriously and madly self-destructive, they stick in the memory. Oh, and there’s also a bonkers cat character called Small Frank who’s the reincarnation of the mother’s dead husband! A fun read.
You know how we’re advised to start our story with a hook, and that it’s wise to have a moment of tension or a question at the end of each chapter, that compels the reader to turn the page? Well, try reading Adam Hamdy’s third novel, which does just this really well. His hero is quite the most resistant to injury character I’ve encountered, but the plot is thrilling and the tension never quits.
Powerful storytelling with a strong sense of place in a claustrophobic coastal community in Maine. Sure to divide sympathies, the main character Olive is a force of nature. Lots of truth about what it means to be human, so not always an easy read.
I was drawn to read this novel, after watching a BBC documentary on Flanagan in which he discussed the writing of it. He’s a personable chap, with his feet firmly on the ground and not one to bullshit about the mysteries of his craft. His novel is also fluff-free and though a harrowing read is life-affirming.
This year, I read his Rose Gold, Known To Evil, When The Thrill Is Gone, Down TheRiver Unto The Sea, And Sometimes I Wonder About You and And All I Did Was Shoot My Man.
Not only does he come up with brilliant titles, but his plotting is serpentine and engrossing. Mosley is great at thumbnail sketches of incidental characters, and inserting his MC’s internal dialogue into the action. Even if you don’t like crime novels, his are worth a look to see how he makes everything look so easy.
This charming anecdote about how a six-year-old reader jealously guarded his favourite book, made me wonder which stories are intensely personal to me.
I recall the wondrous possibilities of reading, discovered as a youngster…how a book could become a portal to another world, making me a traveller in time and space; books became friends.
The book that I’ve re-read the most, and which I feel bonded to, is The Wind In The Willows by Kenneth Grahame…ideally with illustrations by Ernest H. Shepherd. It’s classified as a children’s book, but has universal themes of the importance of home and loyalty to friends and the natural world, as well as being prescient about what happens when those principles are abandoned—as shown by the current state of politics, mass extinction of species and global warming.
For modern books, I feel like a champion of a crime novel I read in 2017, which I chose as one of my favourite books of the year. The Ploughmen is a debut novel by Kim Zupan and deserves to be widely-known. Had I the funds, I’d buy the rights and turn it into a film, and the two-hander structure of the plot would be ideal for an up-and-coming actor to prove his skills, as well as revitalising the career of an established but overlooked actor…in the same way as Quentin Tarantino turned the spotlight back onto Pam Grier and Robert Forster with Jackie Brown.
In this way, I’m the opposite of the six-year-old reader, as I want more people to know about one of my favourite books.
What is your go-to story, your eternal favourite?
Which neglected title do you think deserves to be widely known?
Now is the time of year when the media publish ‘Best Of’ lists for a variety of categories, including books, television series, music albums and films, so I thought that I’d join in with a baker’s dozen of favourite reads from 2017. Some were published this year, and all came out recently, so should be readily available.
It made me laugh and it made me cry. A brilliant portrayal of a grumpy old man, a stickler for petty rules and regulations, who’d be a nightmare to know on brief acquaintance. But, he has a heart of gold concealed within his leaden exterior and is blessed with the love of a good woman.
Worthy of all the attention it’s received, as much for the unusual way the story is laid out, with scattered thoughts from the spirits of the dead who haven’t quite passed over, but who exist in a state of limbo or ‘bardo’. Some are more aware of their condition than others, and the most confused is Abraham Lincoln’s son Willie who’s just died of typhoid fever in the second year of the Civil War. He’s further unsettled by his father visiting the crypt to hold his corpse, as part of his mourning.
Not an easy read, and if you try, I recommend doing so in at least 20-30 page chunks, to get a sense of who all of the dead spirits are; it’s a very moving experience—horrific, contemplative and loving.
The best novel that I read this year or for many a year. A stunning achievement and just what a novel should be, for it involves the reader in a deep-seated mystery as the naive protagonist tries to unravel a tight knot that hides family identity, wealth, betrayal and who he really is and who he wants to be. Travelling between Norway, the Shetland Isles and the battlefields of northern France, it’s sure to be turned into a film.
If you want to know what it feels like to be a brain surgeon, this is the book to read. I was immediately in awe of Henry Marsh, and it’s one of the most humbling memoirs I’ve read. Truly terrifying too, it will make you count your blessings. I’m on the waiting list at my local library for the sequel, Admissions: Life as a Brain Surgeon.
A highly-praised debut crime novel by a British author, who does a fine job of making the reader feel the heat, claustrophobia and paranoia of an isolated community in the Australian Outback where the murder of a family makes everyone a suspect.
Winslow is without equal when it comes to writing tense crime novels involving the drug trade and the inevitable violent betrayals, paranoia, self-loathing and multiple murders. His The Power of the Dog and The Cartel, about the Mexican drug wars must have the highest body counts of any novels. In The Force, a corrupt detective who’s been taking dirty money and operating as part of an unofficial police unit within the NYPD finally gets his comeuppance. He’s a totally believable flawed hero, compromised by many ‘well-what-would-you-do’ situations.
Grieving the unexpected death of her father, the author returns to an early love of falconry, by raising a goshawk. Her road to recovery is involving, tearing at your heart as you will her on. Macdonald writes brilliantly about wildlife, the weather and the landscape. I found it captivating.
One of the best thrillers that Dennis Lehane has ever written, and that’s saying something when you remember Mystic River and Shutter Island. The plot has more twists and turns than an epileptic snake, carrying the reader along in a state of excited confusion.
A rollicking good read, that deserves all of the praise and awards it’s received. Spufford knows his stuff historically, and he pens a believable world in 18th-century New York, where things turn frighteningly violent very quickly. I’m eager to read the sequel.
This absorbing novel will probably get lost by being shelved among Westerns in bookshops and libraries, and though it’s set on horseback, the three gormless heroes have adventures that say much about human foibles. It’s lewd and crude in places, but very entertaining.
An unusual crime novel, which was unjustly overlooked, and, I fear, will remain a neglected treasure. I only noticed it, as it was the last book shelved in the novel section of my local library! A debut novel by a mature writer, it tells of a strange friendship between an implacable, imprisoned serial killer, a complete psychopath, and a gullible young deputy, who finds missing people in the Montana snow—usually dead. Zupan rivals Helen Macdonald for his descriptions of landscape, and you’ll soon be feeling cold. It’s one of the most memorable stories I’ve read.
I wasn’t sure that I’d enjoy this tale set in the days of the riots in Los Angeles in 1992, mainly as the author had previously written quirky titles for young readers. However, I was swiftly gripped by the dilemmas faced by a dozen different characters, including coppers, drug dealers, store owners, nurses and the homeless. Some scenes were real edge-of-the-seat stuff—and I mean real—much scarier than any imagined dystopian worlds.
The reader is transported to New York in the early 20th-century, where the protagonist works as a mermaid in her father’s museum of freaks, among such as the Wolfman, the Butterfly Girl and a century-old turtle. She meets a handsome Russian immigrant photographer, who has left the confines of his Jewish community to concentrate on his career. When he photographs a tragic factory fire, he gets embroiled in the case of a missing girl and dark forces hunt the two youngsters. Hoffman is superb at summoning up the atmosphere of the streets, river and surrounding countryside of a young city. Best-known for Practical Magic, which was turned into a film, and to which she’s recently published a prequel called The Rules of Magic, Hoffman’s Museum of Extraordinary Things is sure to be filmed too as it’s equally spellbinding.
What books have you enjoyed reading this year? They don’t have to be recent—old favourites that you’ve revisited will do.
%20Do%20No%20Harm:%20Stories%20of%20Life,%20Death%20and%20Brain%20Surgery,%20by%20Henry%20Marsh%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21086818-do-no-harm?from_search=true%20%20%20%20If%20you%20want%20to%20know%20what%20it%20feels%20like%20to%20be%20a%20brain%20surgeon,%20this%20is%20the%20book%20to%20read.%20I%20was%20immediately%20in%20awe%20of%20Henry%20Marsh,%20and%20it%27s%20one%20of%20the%20most%20humbling%20memoirs%20I%27ve%20read.%20Truly%20terrifying%20too,%20it%20will%20make%20you%20count%20your%20blessings.%20I%27m%20on%20the%20waiting%20list%20at%20my%20local%20library%20for%20the%20sequel,%20Admissions:%20Life%20as%20a%20Brain%20Surgeon.%20%20%20%205)%20The%20Dry,%20by%20Jane%20Harper%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27824826-the-dry?from_search=true%20%20A%20highly-praised%20debut%20crime%20novel%20by%20a%20British%20author,%20who%20does%20a%20fine%20job%20of%20making%20the%20reader%20feel%20the%20heat,%20claustrophobia%20and%20paranoia%20of%20an%20isolated%20community%20in%20the%20Australian%20Outback%20where%20the%20murder%20of%20a%20family%20makes%20everyone%20a%20suspect.%20%20%20%206)%20The%20Force,%20by%20Don%20Winslow%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32075859-the-force?from_search=true%20%20Winslow%20is%20without%20equal%20when%20it%20comes%20to%20writing%20tense%20crime%20novels%20involving%20the%20drug%20trade%20and%20the%20inevitable%20violent%20betrayals,%20paranoia,%20self-loathing%20and%20multiple%20murders.%20His%20The%20Power%20of%20the%20Dog%20and%20The%20Cartel,%20about%20the%20Mexican%20drug%20wars%20must%20have%20the%20highest%20body%20counts%20of%20any%20novels.%20In%20The%20Force,%20a%20corrupt%20detective%20who%27s%20been%20taking%20dirty%20money%20and%20operating%20as%20part%20of%20an%20unofficial%20police%20unit%20within%20the%20NYPD%20finally%20gets%20his%20comeuppance.%20He%27s%20a%20totally%20believable%20flawed%20hero,%20who%27s%20compromised%20by%20many%20%27well-what-would-you-do%27%20situations.%20%20%20%207)%20H%20is%20for%20Hawk,%20by%20Helen%20Macdonald%20%20%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18803640-h-is-for-hawk?from_search=true%20%20Grieving%20the%20unexpected%20death%20of%20her%20father,%20the%20author%20returns%20to%20an%20early%20love%20of%20falconry,%20by%20raising%20a%20goshawk.%20Her%20road%20to%20recovery%20is%20involving,%20tearing%20at%20your%20heart%20as%20you%20will%20her%20on.%20Macdonald%20writes%20brilliantly%20about%20wildlife,%20the%20weather%20and%20the%20landscape.%20I%20found%20it%20captivating.%20%20%20%208)%20Since%20We%20Fell,%20by%20Dennis%20Lehane%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31751571-since-we-fell?from_search=true%20%20One%20of%20the%20best%20thrillers%20that%20Dennis%20Lehane%20has%20ever%20written,%20and%20that%27s%20saying%20something%20when%20you%20remember%20Mystic%20River%20and%20Shutter%20Island.%20The%20plot%20has%20more%20twists%20and%20turns%20than%20an%20epileptic%20snake,%20carrying%20the%20reader%20along%20in%20a%20state%20of%20excited%20confusion.%20%20%20%209)%20Golden%20Hill,%20by%20Francis%20Spufford%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13732457-golden-hill%20%20A%20rollicking%20good%20read,%20that%20deserves%20all%20of%20the%20praise%20and%20awards%20it%27s%20received.%20Spufford%20knows%20his%20stuff%20historically,%20and%20he%20pens%20a%20believable%20world%20in%2018th-century%20New%20York,%20where%20things%20turn%20frighteningly%20violent%20very%20quickly.%20I%27m%20eager%20to%20read%20the%20sequel.%20%20%20%2010)%20The%20Heavenly%20Table,%20by%20Donald%20Ray%20Pollock%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27245902-the-heavenly-table?ac=1&from_search=true%20%20This%20absorbing%20novel%20will%20probably%20get%20lost%20by%20being%20shelved%20among%20Westerns%20in%20bookshops%20and%20libraries,%20and%20though%20it%27s%20set%20on%20horseback,%20the%20three%20gormless%20heroes%20have%20adventures%20that%20say%20much%20about%20human%20foibles.%20It%27s%20lewd%20and%20crude%20in%20places,%20but%20very%20entertaining.%20%20%20%2011)%20The%20Ploughmen,%20by%20Kim%20Zupan%20%20%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18465602-the-ploughmen?from_search=true%20%20%20%20This%20unusual%20crime%20novel%20was%20unjustly%20overlooked,%20and,%20I%20fear,%20will%20remain%20a%20neglected%20treasure.%20I%20only%20noticed%20it,%20as%20it%20was%20the%20last%20book%20shelved%20in%20the%20novel%20section%20of%20my%20local%20library.%20A%20debut%20novel%20by%20a%20mature%20writer,%20it%20tells%20of%20a%20strange%20friendship%20between%20an%20implacable,%20imprisoned%20serial%20killer,%20a%20complete%20psychopath,%20and%20a%20gullible%20young%20deputy,%20who%20finds%20missing%20people%20in%20the%20Montana%20snow%E2%80%94usually%20dead.%20Zupan%20rivals%20Helen%20Macdonald%20for%20his%20descriptions%20of%20landscape,%20and%20you%27ll%20soon%20be%20feeling%20cold.%20It%27s%20one%20of%20the%20most%20memorable%20stories%20I%27ve%20read.%20%20%20%2012)%20All%20Involved,%20by%20Ryan%20Gattis%20%20%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22756871-all-involved?from_search=true%20%20%20%20I%20wasn%27t%20sure%20that%20I%27d%20enjoy%20this%20tale%20set%20in%20the%20days%20on%20the%20riots%20in%20Los%20Angeles%20in%201992,%20mainly%20as%20the%20author%20had%20previously%20written%20quirky%20titles%20for%20young%20readers.%20However,%20I%20was%20swiftly%20gripped%20by%20the%20dilemmas%20faced%20by%20a%20dozen%20different%20characters,%20including%20coppers,%20drug%20dealers,%20store%20owners,%20nurses%20and%20the%20homeless.%20Some%20scenes%20were%20real%20edge-of-the%20seat%20stuff%E2%80%94and%20I%20mean%20real%E2%80%94much%20scarier%20than%20any%20imagined%20dystopian%20worlds.%20%20%20%2013)%20The%20Museum%20of%20Extraordinary%20Things,%20by%20Alice%20Hoffman.%20%20%20%20https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18144053-the-museum-of-extraordinary-things?from_search=true%20%20%20%20The%20reader%20is%20transported%20to%20New%20York%20in%20the%20early%2020th-century,%20where%20the%20protagonist%20works%20as%20a%20mermaid%20in%20her%20father%27s%20museum%20of%20freaks,%20such%20as%20the%20Wolfman,%20the%20Butterfly%20Girl%20and%20a%20century-old%20turtle.%20She%20meets%20a%20handsome%20Russian%20immigrant%20photographer,%20who%20has%20left%20the%20confines%20of%20his%20Jewish%20community%20to%20concentrate%20on%20his%20career.%20When%20he%20photographs%20a%20tragic%20factory%20fire,%20he%20gets%20embroiled%20in%20the%20case%20of%20a%20missing%20girl%20and%20dark%20forces%20hunt%20the%20two%20youngsters.%20Hoffman%20is%20superb%20at%20summoning%20up%20the%20atmosphere%20of%20the%20streets,%20river%20and%20surrounding%20countryside%20of%20a%20young%20city.%20Best-known%20for%20Practical%20Magic,%20which%20was%20turned%20into%20a%20film,%20and%20to%20which%20she%27s%20recently%20published%20a%20prequel%20called%20The%20Rules%20of%20Magic,%20Hoffman%27s%20Museum%20of%20Extraordinary%20Things%20is%20sure%20to%20be%20filmed%20too%20as%20it%27s%20equally%20spellbinding.%20%20%20%20%20%20What%20books%20have%20you%20enjoyed%20reading%20this%20year?%20They%20don%27t%20have%20to%20be%20recent%E2%80%94old%20favourites%20that%20you%27ve%20revisited%20will%20do.%20%20%20%20IMAGE:%20https://i.pinimg.com/736x/02/ee/37/02ee374dcfd06415e7ae83616a3d0424--snoopy-and-woodstock-snoopy-love.jpg){kind=link}