Category: Recommended Read

Reads I’ve enjoyed.

Reads of 2017 and Happy New 2018

  By , ,

Welcome to 2018! I usually end the year with a list of a few titles so, although I lost much of the start of the year’s reading time with a move (more on that below), I’ll begin with a selection of the books I pored over mostly through a combination of my sheer stubborn will and desperation when viewing my to-be-read mountain.

I’m never certain how I feel about Patrick Gale’s work simply from preference. His works read, to me, as though I’ve dipped into someone’s life and forced to step out again. This is not a fault by any means — many such works have received critical acclaim, and the plotting of this has to be admired. In Notes from an Exhibition, I loved the non-linear sequence of the storytelling but found myself irritated with many of the characters. Again, this is not a negative — fully fledged characters can be as frustrating as people may be in reality. The story is ultimately one that’s a painful glance at mental illness. Another book that made it more apparent to me why I’m never sure whether I love or simply appreciate Gale’s work was A Perfectly Good Man. It is a matter of style vs content. There’s too much telling rather than showing, but I love the way the author can jump back and forth with the timeline without losing the reader, and I enjoyed the overall plot of this one.

I rarely speak of a book and a film in the same paragraph, but for The Girl with all the Gifts, by M.R.Carey I advise reading the book, forget the film. If you’ve seen the film, read the book. This is your zombie survival story with a backdrop of intelligent science and equally intelligent twists. The film lacks the depth of character development and interaction of the book, coming across as a made-for-TV movie, paring the story down to stripped bones. The writing, though aimed more at a young adult audience, is worth consideration for any zombie fan.

His Bloody Project, by Graeme Macrae Burnet, is the fictional ‘factual’ telling of the ‘bloody’ deals of one Roderick Macrae. There’s little plot to this book. There’s a crime, the perpetrator’s account, a court case, and a verdict. What makes this book stand out is the readability and even enjoyment of the story’s working. The research and tone make one feel as though the reader has taken a step back in time, paying witness to the events on which a young man’s life ‘hangs’ (forgive the pun). The book is persuasive and although leaves some uncertain it’s noteworthy to mention that the author made this reader at least feel more sorry for the criminal than the victims.

The Box, by Jack Ketchum, is a short story that appears to engender a love or loathe response. I would have made it more visceral, but I still liked it, being the type of thing I would write. Either you are someone for whom the story cannot be complete without the revelation of what is in the box, or you are someone whose imagination can take flights of fancy.

If you’re looking for an extraordinary suspenseful passionate adventure, consider Project Prometheus 1: In Her Name, by Esther Mitchell. It’s a shame some readers of suspense may shy from the romantic elements, and some readers of romance may hesitate to delve into a world so richly layered as this, but what action-packed blockbuster doesn’t contain components of both? The romance is far from saccharine and the action far from puerile. The reading experience was much like watching a feature film play out, and I equate the ‘experience’ of reading this in that format — like watching a television series. Though not the type of material I would routinely read, the writer’s command of world building, story-layering, knowledge, and use of myth and fact, means I’ll be reading the rest of this series, though the first can be read as a standalone book.

The Man Who Disappeared, by Clare Morrall, was a book I found difficult to rate. My feelings fluctuated so much. Oddly, it’s written in a tense seldom used, but I had no problem with that or the writing itself. I had some issues with the characters and their choices, but more than that, I had issues with what the characters took offence at and what they did not. The problem is we all have our own experiences and beliefs, and only through research can a writer put over an opinion that may not be theirs. And I was judging the character’s reactions by how I would react and how I would feel, so I don’t wish to mark the book down. I’m not a reader who believes a writer is wrong just because I think some points of the story should have gone a different way. I found this a decent read, but not a keeper.

Off Season, by Jack Ketchum, I rate as a middle of the road read because it’s an excellent read of its type, but I prefer my horror books a little deeper and not completely action-based. I found this more like watching a gory horror film than being immersed in a book. If it’s the type of action-based brutal horror story someone likes, it’ll be excellent for them, so it’s one for individual judgement. Most interesting were the author’s notes at the end of how this book was first received and severely cut by the publisher, even to where the author didn’t get to keep the end he wanted. On that note, I applaud the republication of the author’s original intention… and much prefer the author’s conclusion. Once upon a time, the graphic nature of the book would have been seen as too extreme, but to some will seem mild now. I can’t say it’s a book I enjoyed because of the content. Neither did I dislike it, nor was it instantly forgettable, but it’s not a book I’ll be keeping. This is the first time I’ve read Jack Ketchum, though I’m aware his work has a wonderful reputation. I can’t say from this one book whether he’s an author for me.

In contrast, Meat, by Joseph D’Lacey, is a questioning form of horror. I won’t linger on the minor fact that I felt the writing could have done with a slight tidy, or that the formatting on the copy I read was less than perfect. That and the plot reservations this ultimately left me with means I couldn’t give the book a perfect rating. However, I can’t see how the author could have written a different outcome. This is, without doubt, a dark dystopia, one that’s as gruesome as it is possible to imagine. No genuine surprises but richly developed into a solid conceptual future designed by accident or intent to make the reader question their ethics. I’d be happy to read more by this author.

The Wolves of London, Obsidian Heart 1, by Mark Morris, isn’t what I would strictly call a horror novel. It’s one of those instances where genres blend to mesmerising effect including touches of urban fantasy and even steampunk and, yes, horror, because, some of the strange world the protagonist, Alex Locke, stumbles into is as horrific as it is fantastical and magical. This book won’t please every reader, but it will entertain many who appreciate the use of a wild imagination, being slowly drawn into a stranger than average universe, who are prepared to suspend disbelief and give credence to all possibilities. I like the unhurried progress, the twists and turns, and quirks of the story. The peculiar surprises. Towards the end, the book feels a little disconnected and jerky, but that’s owing to plot points being established for the arc of the series. This book will leave the reader with more questions at the end than at the start. Who are the Wolves of London? What is the Obsidian Heart and what powers does it hold? Why has Alex been chosen, and why does it seem as if he’s part of some design constructed by unknown antagonists, possibly his growing list of enemies? Whether it’s a perfect set-up, I won’t be able to say until I read the whole trilogy. Neither can I say whether I will love the entire series once I finish, but I know, having read this, I have to discover how the story concludes.

I finished the year in November by reading 11.22.63, Stephen King. First, for a UK audience, the title likely made a few people blink if they are unaware that the US writes dates differently to the UK. Here, we write the date chronologically: day, month, year. This being a pivotal date in US history, I’m not criticising this, but I could understand if, to some readers, it didn’t automatically click that the numbered title is a date. Did I enjoy the book? Yes. Did it have as much to do with Kennedy’s death as I thought it would? No. This is one of King’s well-known ‘journeys’ (he has stated that some books are to be enjoyed for the journey rather than the destination), and those who are familiar with his congenial tone will understand that this is a book that doesn’t have as much to do with the basic idea as the circumstances that stem from one man’s decision-making. It makes for a readable story and pleasant experience. But if you’re looking for an in-depth story on conspiracy theories, don’t look here.

My book of my 2017 reads, is The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. I won’t rehash the plot, as that can be worked out from the blurb, so I will simply say I loved this book. Real sentences, proper words, first person which I rarely like and third, but the prose flowed too smoothly for me to notice, the writing entirely pleasant. Though I could predict some plot points, the greatest strength of this novel is it’s a mystery woven like a tapestry. Overall, the book has the feel of a classic that will stand the test of time. I was smitten. This one reminded me of why I love books.

On a personal note, 2017… the year that began with an ongoing upheaval which resulted in our moving, not to our favourite place, but to a suitable compromise, a move that happened far sooner than we ever expected. Not saying that move was without problems — what move ever is? — but we got through it. It’s the year in which my other half not only started a new job, he found a position he’s enjoying, is respected, and I’ve noticed he is a far happier person. We have gained a bigger house this year and will enjoy it until we downsize. It’s a year in which we settled in the countryside, after a traumatic 4 years that seemed to push us here. We decorated the interior and landscaped the garden.

It’s the year I intended to return to writing for one of my publishers only sadly to learn they were closing, but it’s also the year in which I wrote my first Lethbridge-Stewart novel, due out shortly. A year in which I met most of the few goals I set (being realistic with the move etc), and a year I’m finishing ready to face the list of things I hope to do in 2018. It’s the year we finished by going on a cruise and visiting some Christmas markets and then enjoying our new home and seeing our best friends. It’s a year we’re ending in peace and with a good deal of gratitude.

Happy New Year to all. Thanks to everyone who are loyal friends, and those who’ve supported me even if it’s from the sidelines. Wishing you happiness and peace… and Happy Reading!

Of Fairy Tales and Lost Things

  By

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

  By , ,

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.

Snow Angel’s first new review!

  By , , ,

“Both Jay and Dean are very well-written and they lived off of the printed page.”

This week I’m focusing on the type of review writers like. Not just because it praises one of my works, but because it’s well wrought. Good or bad, writers search for those reviews that have something constructive to say. I loved it (or hated it) is fine, especially if it’s a show of approval, but reviewers who can look at the depths of a story provide a writer with the insight from which we learn. I’ll address how I think writers should handle reviews another time, but there are opportunities to learn from both good and bad. Gabbi gives Snow Angel ‘5 kisses’ and a multi-layered review from which I share a few lines:

“He has a way of brushing off and not dealing with important topics like feelings and sexuality, but as I continued to read the story, I began to see the many layers of Dean begin to peel away.

It’s true that Dean struggles with verbalizing his feelings for Jay, but he shows Jay in so many way how much he truly cares for him, their friendship and the love that simmers between them.

Snow Angel is a complex and wonderfully written romance that has earned a spot on my keeper shelf.”

That so many wanted this book out in print, and wanted to read it twice, tells me much. Gabbi and others ‘get Dean’. They see the multi-layering I wanted to construct in my characters and in their relationship. Gabbi is right. Dean has always been my most controversial character. Adored by many, abhorred by others. The original publisher loved this story for the same reasons as the readers who love him. The message I received from that publisher was ‘well done, subtly nuanced’. And that’s the whole point.

Dean arrogant? Yes, in some ways he is, but he’s the creation I wanted him to be. I wanted to show an imperfect hero, for I believe they are the best kind. I wanted a flawed human being who is a good person to have on your side. I wanted a ‘London lad’, someone rough around the edges, who would stand up and fight for what he believes in, who has a steadfast set of principles. In Dean’s own words, “I may be a dick, but I don’t dick around.”

You can read the whole of Gabbi’s review at Top 2 Bottom Reviews.

Reads of 2016

  By ,

I usually finish the year with a blog looking back over the books I’ve read during the last twelve months. Unfortunately, I didn’t blog last week because I was away without Internet access and so this blog is a few days later and, owing to a tight schedule during 2016, liable to be even more pitiful in the number of books read than the last couple of years. Still, I can’t let the year pass completely without mentioning a few titles.

I read a few light novels at the start of 2016 that aren’t worth listing. In May I opened up Sunfail, by Steven Saville, an espionage tale that’s decidedly plot-driven but which I enjoyed. I’ve seen one review calling it slick, and I agree. I also discovered Nigel Williams, my first read of his being R.I.P. I knew I was going to enjoy this the moment I read the opening line of the blurb: ‘Retired bank manager George Pearmain is, apparently, dead.’ This is a nicely humorous, sardonic read.

Joyland and a few of the Gunslinger Graphic novels were a visit by me to a longstanding writer, Stephen King, followed by a Heart-Shaped Box by his son, Joe Hill. The title caught my attention and mostly I enjoyed the book, but not as much as my 2014 read of Horns. To me, a Heart-Shaped Box started out well but didn’t go dark enough. What started out as a promising scare didn’t quite hold its momentum or its thrills, but it still earns a place on my bookshelves.

I started The Enchantment Emporium, by Tanya Huff while on holiday and was immediately captivated and added this writer to my list, purchasing the following two books to add to my to-be-read mountain. The stories are definitely aimed at women but contain enough various elements to hold my interest — a blend of family issues, romance, and magic. The series had me at ‘Dragons’, of course.

Winter Tales is an anthology I had to check out because it features several writers, including me. I found I was more taken with the stories in the beginning of the book and, therefore, exceedingly happy where they placed mine, but like with every anthology, each reader will have their own preferences. I still like a short story and a selection is always a good way to check out new talent.

The Unquiet was my latest read by John Connolly. Unfortunately, I am behind on his books simply because of that mountain awaiting my attention. I readily admit that. I’ve the next two in said pile.

The Wine of Angels was my first foray into the world of Phil Rickman and his character of Merrily Watkins. I liked the concept of a female priest thrown into small village intrigue and investigation and thoroughly enjoyed this book, the characters in the village and the writing. Alas, I didn’t take to Merrily. I will read more of these titles, but it’s a bit like watching an episode of a favourite show where the supporting cast is stronger and more interesting than the lead. I hope this improves as the series continues.

Bleu/Blaque by Belinda McBride is worth mentioning for anyone looking for a m/m romance title. I’m ashamed to say I’ve had this one lingering for far too long, but going on the better late than never concept it’s one I’m happy to recommend. Bleu and Blaque prove to be interesting contrasts and not solely owing to their being vampire and werewolf. They are two characters I would happily revisit.

An American friend has been reading Notes from a Small Island, and The Road to Little Dribbling, by Bill Bryson. Again, the first has been sitting in ‘the pile’ for far too long, so I’ve read one and have just purchased and started the second. My American friend’s take is that it was that, though enjoyable, it was difficult sometimes to decipher between the humour and straightforward complaining, and there were a few moments when I took this point on board. I was surprised by how far Bill Bryson walked, and have to admit his way of touring wouldn’t be my preference having read even a portion of these books. I’m sure I’d want to spend longer in some areas, less in others, and some I wouldn’t want to visit at all, and while ‘wandering at will’ seems enticing, I’d do more research into my intended stops. The books, though, remain a delightful look into the British way of life, particularly for those who don’t know the UK so well… with one word of warning. The politeness and attitudes Bryson encountered in the first book have flagged somewhat. I’ve only just begun the second book and it will be interesting to see if Bryson has also noted any such changes since he first perambulated the UK.

Overall, the year has been pretty disappointing reading-wise so I’m happy to finish with two highlights both picked up for intended Christmas reading. My first is The Martian, by Andy Weir. Having seen the film three times, I was interested in reading the book and would recommend anyone who liked the film to do the same. I’ve seen both have had their usual share of mixed reviews, but I’m amazed how anyone cannot appreciate the research and science-made-interesting portions of the book — the added details of which exceed those in the film — is beyond me. Sure, the ending in both the books but especially the film is far-fetched. It’s FICTION. I’m one of many who does not understand this current inclination to dismiss fiction that is implausible. Many occurrences in life are implausible and fiction can achieve the impossible. I’m quite happy to suspend belief and to be entertained and maybe even learn a little, or, if not, that’s good, too. There is nothing wrong with sheer entertainment. For the writer that I am, it’s interesting to note that I learned Andy Weir first published the book as snippets on the web. To get the total story without waiting, people had to buy the book… and then a publisher took it up, and there’s been a film and one hell of a success story about a man stranded on Mars — the very definition of good fiction. The film… it’s a good adaptation of a book given a Hollywood treatment that’s not at all painful. Mild spoiler: It has a more exciting and implausible ending, but this is only to be expected when they adapt a book to film, as is the trimmed-down science behind the writing.

But my recommendation this year also is my last read. A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman breaks the rule of ‘show don’t tell’ yet is an easy read that is thoroughly entertaining, truthful, poignant, funny, moving, uplifting, and sad. It’s painful and beautiful, which is the best type of storytelling.

A little freebie for Christmas

  By , , , ,

A new series set after the 1968 Doctor Who serial The Web of Fear follows the adventures of Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart spanning the four years from when he was a colonel in the Scots Guards to his promotion to brigadier and head of the UK branch of UNIT. Candy Jar Books brings additional life to Lethbridge-Stewart, fully licensed by the executor of the Haisman Literary Estate, Hannah Haisman, and endorsed by Henry Lincoln. Whilst the series is not Young Adult fiction, its intention is to maintain that family-friendly feel balancing the classic with a sense of modernity.

To get a feel for the series, visit Candy Jar Books offers and drop down to the bottom of the page for this year’s Christmas free download. Enjoy!