DOOMED

So.

It was a little over a year ago that I decided to find a purpose for this blog. With that in mind, I started The Reading the Library Challenge, with the stated aim to read one book per letter of the alphabet from our general shelves in the library.

2020 did not cooperate, y'all.

Instead of 26 books, I managed the grand total of 8. Which, y'know, isn't too bad when you consider there's a pandemic and the world is generally on fire. (Also I was reading other things as well.)

This is still a project that I'd like to pursue, because many of the issues I raised (I don't read widely enough, I am comfortable in my comfort zone, there are whole swathes of authors I've never read) are still relevant. With that in mind:

Let us continue reading the library.

I believe we got up to the I-shelves, so I immediately went to this book, which has caught my eye several times while I've been shelving:

The copy we own also has the following disclaimer on the cover: "WARNING: This book may restore your faith in human nature", which honestly nearly put me off the whole business. I'm quite glad I read it anyway, because it's really very good. And worryingly topical.

PLOT SPOILERS TO FOLLOW

An investment banker, who specialises in short trading (which, conveniently, we all learned about recently due to the Gamestop saga), accidentally predicts the end of the world by a deadly flu pandemic, and flees to a tiny Cornish village. He swims off into the sea but is rescued from drowning by a whale. The village take him (and the whale) into their hearts.

So, yeah, weirdly topical. There's also a passing reference to buying shares in AstraZeneca.

It's interesting to read this sort of book while living through a genuine pandemic, to see where the author's predictions go awry (for example, in the book, the UK Government shut the borders as soon as the first cases of the deadly virus appear) (*satirical laugh*).

It's also difficult to categorise, because it's a fairly realistic, straight-forward story, but with an added element of Mystery Whale Syndrome. It is, however, nice to read peri-apocalypic fiction which isn't constant doom and gloom and people being horrid to each other. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say it restored my faith in human nature, but it was a nice, fun story, which stayed just on the correct side of pretentiousness.

Now, off I go into the J-shelves, in search of more treasure. Wish me luck.

Reading the Library returns!

It feels like a heck of a long time ago that I started this reading challenge. It’s weird how everything now is divided into “before lockdown” and “after lockdown”. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been struggling to focus on reading (or writing, or anything) while the world is a flaming garbage fire.

But the good news is, I’m back in work now, which means I once again have access to our book collection and can restart my Reading the Library challenge. Now I just need to rediscover my ability to read for fun… (no joke, I’ve found it incredibly difficult to relax and enjoy any book during these last few months, which is upsetting on a lot of levels.)

Before the break, we’d got up to the letter E. So, in a bit of a hurry, I went and grabbed the first book in the F section that snatched my fancy:

THE BEST AWFUL by Carrie Fisher

As it turns out, it’s a sequel to POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE, which I also haven’t read. And of course I didn’t realise it was a sequel before I started reading, because that would’ve involved me doing a modicum of research. Having said that, it didn’t really impact on my enjoyment, or lack of. Oooh, that sounded bitchy. I mean, it wasn’t terrible. I just didn’t enjoy this as much as I was expecting to – it’s pretty funny, with lots of dry humour, and fairly unflinching in it’s subject matter. If someone told me this book changed their life, I would completely understand. Sadly it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

Next up, it’s the turn of the Gs, and we’ve got this:

THE ARCANUM by Janet Gleeson

Okay, full disclosure: this was filed in the fiction section and, at first glance, it could be fiction. I was expecting some kind of historical court drama. Turns out it’s mis-shelved non-fiction, and details the history of European porcelain. I only realised this halfway through the first chapter. Yes, I’m unobservant.

Anyway, rather than picking a different book, I’m sticking with this one, because it’s a lot of fun. Apparently, the quest to turn clay into porcelain ran concurrent with the doomed attempts to turn lead into gold, and involved just as much deceit and chicanery. The whole book is full of people lying to monarchs, fleeing cities in the dead of night, selling their secrets to the highest bidder, being poisoned by terrible working conditions, and/or refusing to share their research even on their deathbeds.

I’ve probably mentioned that my favourite type of non-fiction is Obscure-Specific-Topic-Written-About-By-Someone-Who-Loves-The-Subject, with bonus points if it’s a topic I’ve never had even a passing interest in before. THE ARCANUM certainly ticks those boxes. I’ve been regaling my family with pithy anecdotes about 17th Century Poland all week (they’re notably less impressed than me, natch).

As soon as I’ve finished THE ARCANUM, it’s on to the H shelves, and I’ve already picked this:

THE TASTE OF APPLESEEDS by Katharine Hagena

(Apologies for the lack of choice in these matters, btw, but I kinda rushed in and grabbed whatever I could take, since I didn’t know how long it’d be till I’m back at work full time. Also, it must be noted, the library shelves are particularly bare right now, because just before lockdown we issued as many books as we could to our borrowers to tide them over. So, currently, more than 3,000 of our books are on loan, which equates to about 8% of our total stock, hence there’s far more space on the shelves than I’ve ever seen before. Plus we’ve been using the lockdown to weed out books that haven’t been borrowed in ages and remove them from stock. A librarian’s work is never done, and all that.)

Writing With Rakie: Episode 3

On the Subject of Hats

How to Keep Writing During An Apocalypse

So we are still in the Upside Down. Hope everyone is doing okay, staying indoors, and staying safe. Also hope y'all have enough books to last you through this weird, weird time.

My 2020 reading challenge has well and truly stalled, because reading has become yet another casualty of this quarantine. My attention span is terrible, I can't seem to focus on anything for any length, and, on top of that all, I'm frozen with the panic that I should be making the most of this unique opportunity but instead I'm wasting all this time. I suspect I'm not alone in this.

One of the other things that's on hiatus is our writing group. I was supposed to be running a couple of workshops for them, so I've opted to video record them to post on facebook. This is the second I've done, on How to Keep Writing During An Apocalypse:

[enforced pause]

Well. In terms of things I expected to derail this reading project, a worldwide pandemic was not one of them. It's never the apocalypse you expect, is it?

So, looking back to the beginning of March, approximately five hundred years ago, I was looking for something from the E-Shelves in our library. I started reading a couple of possible choices, but abandoned them after a few pages. I know, I shouldn't be judgmental, but I have almost zero-tolerance for cringe comedy, and if in the first few pages of a book there's a woman fumbling her important job interview in a way that'd make Daisy Steiner blush, then I'm out, sorrynotsorry.

Instead I picked up this:

It's a collection of short stories by Jenny Eclair, who by coincidence was on Celebrity Bake Off Stand-Up to Cancer the night before I had to choose a book. I don't normally read short stories because I have a short attention span (if I commit to a story, I need it to last for more than a dozen pages; do you have any idea how difficult it is to learn a whole new set of characters and plot ten times in a single book?) (for me anyway, I understand that this is my problem not a failing of the genre).

But I gave this a go, and it was very pleasant. Some of the stories had an unexpected mean streak in them. Others were the nice sort of distracting that you find in Women's Weekly. Overall, Jenny Eclair has a real gift for observing character and drawing you into an imaginary life in the space of a few short pages, and I enjoyed reading this. It's definitely the pick of the bunch from my random library shelves so far this year.

Speaking of which... the library is now closed, officially, so I'm at a bit of a loose end in terms of this project. I can't even get into the building to raid the shelves. Obviously, as soon as I can, I'll get back into things, but for now...

I think the best thing for me to do is tackle the (rather daunting) stack that is my to-read pile. This week I will weed out all my to-read books, put them in a big, alphabetical heap, and decide where to start with them.

Until then, everyone stay safe, take care of yourself and others, and go read. Because now more than ever, reading is fundamental.

noble assassins and ignoble witches

Honestly, you wait ages for a book about 17th Century court intrigue, then two show up at once.

(Having spent quite a lot of February without a car, I’ve decided the old saying about buses needs updating – in my experience they either show up when they’re supposed to, or not at all.)

This month I’ve got back into audiobooks, for a number of reasons. Firstly, I forgot to cancel my subscription to audible (I reactivate it about once a year, whenever an author I love releases an audible-exclusive book) (yes, Peter Clines, I’m looking at you) so I’ve got some free credits to use up this month. Secondly, I’ve been walking/bussing a lot more than usual due to the aforementioned lack of car, so it’s been helpful to use that time constructively. Thirdly, I hate my brain. All that time spent walking gives me far too much time to think, which doesn’t sound a bad thing unless your brain is prone to unhelpful spiralling and/or rehearsing arguments you intend to use online someday. Audiobooks are a proper godsend sometimes.

So, as well as browsing my way through the fiction section of our stacks at the library, I’ve also been perusing the audiobook selection. I’ve found I much prefer non-fiction to fiction, because it doesn’t matter so much if my concentration wanders. Specifically, I love love love gentle informative non-fiction where someone with a reassuring voice tells me about their deep affection for a particular subject. Two of my recent favourites have been SPIRALS IN TIME and THE SOUL OF AN OCTOPUS, and someone recommended BRAIDING SWEETGRASS to me, which is so definitely my thing that I’m saving chapters as a special treat for myself each day.

I also picked up an audio copy of WITCHES: A TALE OF SORCERY, SCANDAL AND SEDUCTION by Tracy Borman, because why wouldn’t I. It’s a pretty good non-fiction introduction to the witch hunts of the late 1500s / early 1600s, with a focus on one particular case involving the children of the Earl of Rutland. Since I don’t know anything at all about this period of history, I can’t vouch for how accurate all the information is, but it was entertaining enough. Although the narrator did keep putting on accents every time she quoted someone.

At the same time, I’ve been reading THE NOBLE ASSASSIN by Amanda Dickason, which is about courtly intrigue in the early 1600s and, by a fun coincidence, features some of the same characters as WITCHES. The only surviving child of the Earl of Rutland, Katherine Manners, married the Duke of Buckingham, who was the favourite of the king and crops up a fair bit in both books. It was nice to reference back and forth between the two books and learn more about the characters from each.

THE NOBLE ASSASSIN is probably the most enjoyable randomly-selected book I’ve read so far this year, although the plot meandered a little bit and the most interesting bit (a “fake” scheme to murder the prince) felt almost like a side note, slotted in when the main character got tired of mooning over poets.

Onwards, therefore, into the E-Shelves:

The letter E is much more restrained. Not 20+ shelves for them, oh no. Instead, a nice, manageable five shelves to choose from, which means for the first time this month I don’t feel overwhelmed.

After a small amount of consideration, I’ve picked shelf number 4, mostly because it contains a copy of THE BLOOD PRICE by Jon Evans, who once wrote a screenplay version of my book TERROR ISLAND and therefore holds a fond place in my heart:

But this shelf also contains almost too much choice. Now I’m not limited to just two or three authors, I’m dithering. I reckon it’s a choice between Harriet Evans (gentle romance), Pam Evans (historical romance, with dancing), or Lissa Evans (funny romance, I think? Possibly involving cats and snails?):

I’m also going to throw a wildcard into the mix: THE HORSE WHISPERER, on the basis I should probably read it at some point in my life:

While the Lissa Evans book looks like the most attractive option, I think I might’ve read something else by that author (if she’s the same Lissa Evans who wrote WED WABBIT, which she might not be) (no, I’ve not googled it, what do I look like a person who ain’t lazy). So I’ll throw it open to comments again, in case anyone has any strong opinions one way or the other. Or indeed, if there’s another gem on the shelf that I’ve overlooked.

cold comfort

The thing about a comfort zone, right, is that it’s comfortable.

Reading outside your comfort zone is great *in theory*but in practice, well...

I mention this only because I have found myself outside my zone for the third fortnight in a row. Which is great – that’s what this project is about, I’m supposed to be finding new books that I otherwise would overlook, books that fall outside what I would normally read. The trouble is... they’re outside what I would normally read. And that makes me uncomfortable.

This isn’t to say there’s anything intrinsically wrong with literary explorations of sibling rivalry and moths, sprawling epics about Irish family life, or gritty urban dramas where everything is always terrible. Whatever floats your boat, lady. It just doesn’t seem to be my thing.

Which brings us neatly enough to this fortnight’s book, WHAT THEY DO IN THE DARK.

Reviews for this on Goodreads are, ehhh, mixed at best. People are apparently put off, not by the unrelentingly grimy feel to the whole narrative, but to the (spoiler alert) sickening, horrendous swerve the plot takes in the last thirty pages. And honestly I have to agree with them a little. The story follows two young girls, about 11 years old, from very different backgrounds, who become unlikely friends and eventually do something almost-inexplicably terrible. Throughout the book, there’s violence and child abuse and racism and a lot of other stuff that sits uneasy with the reader. It’s all very real, don’t get me wrong, the author obviously has a talent for describing people and events in squirmingly accurate detail. But then, like I say, in the last few pages the horrible, irreversible thing happens, then it just... ends. Almost none of the plot strands are tied up at all. We don’t find out for definite what happens to the two main girls, or their families, or the victim, or any of the characters in the sub-plot about a movie that’s filming at the girls’ school. One character, who narrated at least a half dozen chapters, doesn’t even get a mention in the summing-up.

So it’s difficult to tell what everyone reacted badly to – the grim, grubby realism; the swerve into the final act of horrendousness; or the fact we don’t get proper closure about any of it. I can see why the author made the choices they did but still... it all leaves a sour taste in the mouth. Which, honestly, was probably the intention.

Anyway, onwards and onwards, into the C-section (... may need to rephrase that):

12 shelves of C authors, and the Random Number Generator picks number 6:

(I may need to find a new way of choosing these shelves, because right now it seems to be either too random or not random enough...)

And again I’m left with a choice of two authors, neither of whom I’ve read before, neither of which is anything like my usually (comfortable) reading material:

So... which should it be? Regency historical fiction (which literally has a bodice on the cover) or WWII historical fiction?

If anyone has any kind of preference, please leave a comment below. I’m gonna give myself a few days to think about this one.