Healing the self in an age of unrest.

Publisher: Crown (Random House)
Pages: 305
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-0-307-88780-1
First Published: 2012
Date Reviewed: 1st July 2012
Rating: 3.5/5

Elizabeth died in a plane crash shortly before 9/11, and Kate has found it easier to grieve for longer without people criticising because of the devastation that came afterwards. But did Kate really know Elizabeth? When she’s given Elizabeth’s diaries she finds that their friendship may have only touched the surface of who Elizabeth really was. And in learning about Elizabeth, Kate must reassess the person she has herself become.

It should be noted straight away that while official summaries of the book suggest that Elizabeth died on 9/11, she did not, and thus the story does not refer to the event much except to explain Kate’s state of mind.

The Unfinished Work Of Elizabeth D. revolves around a friend reading the diaries of a recently deceased woman against the backdrop of the woman’s grieving husband, the friend’s strained marriage, and the friend’s issues, which seem to have formed because of the death.

How many things in life are like this, near misses? … Every move you make and a million ones you don’t all have ramifications that mean life or death or love or bankruptcy or whatever. It could paralyse you if you let it. But you have to live your life. What’s the alternative?

Kate is a worrier, and since Elizabeth’s death she has worried about attacks happening in her city and in the places her husband goes to on his business trips, and also about diseases that could claim the lives of her children. As the book continues the reader finds that her worrying is at risk of becoming an OCD and that if she doesn’t get her head around the fact that one has to live with the future unknown, her marriage could reach breaking point and her life become even more of a mess than it is now. Kate is also struggling with balancing her need for a career with bringing up her children.

If Elizabeth’s death was somewhat of a catalyst for the extreme changes in Kate, then it also plays a part in getting Kate back to normality. The diaries of a woman who Kate finds she didn’t really know open her up to the situations she’s put herself in and how she’s let other things in life take over from doing what she wants to do. Elizabeth’s role is to teach Kate how to be, how to do things the right way. Although it may not seem it, especially considering the title, Kate is the main character, not Elizabeth.

Another theme is a lack of communication – between Chris and Kate, between Dave and Elizabeth, between Kate and Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s issues may have stemmed from a particular event, but the way she never let anyone see the real her was the reason for her continued issues and indeed for misunderstandings after her death. That she didn’t discuss important issues with Dave, and this is apparent very early on, caused the equilibrium she was trying to keep to simply just result in more pain. The communication issues between Chris and Kate have obviously been there a long time, but the arrival of the diaries and Kate’s reading of them to the expense of couple time with Chris, brings matters to a head. It is almost as if Kate has brought a third person into the marriage and in discussing the content of the diaries with Chris, Kate is effectively describing a lot of the problems in her own marriage.

But something feels missing in this book. It feels unfinished due to Kate’s feelings about Chris not being confronted – they may have been thoughts but to the reader they are presented as real possibilities and thus needed to be dealt with. And whilst we come full circle with Elizabeth’s diaries there are still a few things that could have been included. The story is good, but not as compelling as others that dwell on the same psychological themes. There are subplots that are left open, such as Max’s bakery and the looming fear that he will have to close it, as well as a wondering of why such subplots were included in the first place.

The ending is very much opened-ended. Will they stay where they are, will there be a separation, how will Kate respond to her discoveries – all the questions that the reader asked the book at the start remain questions at the end. And while it is okay that not every thread is tied, there needed to be at least some sort of resolution so that the reader had more of an idea how things might turn out.

The Unfinished Work Of Elizabeth D. is a nice, somewhat laid-back look at how awful events can effect us in less typical ways, but whether planned or not, the second word of its title is an apt description of the book. The messages and lessons are solid, but the execution could have been better.

I received this book for review from Crown Publishing Group, Random House.

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When “forever” doesn’t mean “forever” for reasons that no one’s considered.

Publisher: Broadway (Random House)
Pages: 294
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-0-307-71988-1
First Published: 2011
Date Reviewed: 18th June 2012
Rating: 4.5/5

Shelley’s husband died from a bomb in a backpack on the subway in Madrid, a few years after they had met. Two years afterwards Shelley is still grieving, and when she answers the door to a man who looks like her husband and says he is Max’s grandson, she wonders if the bruise to her head she gained when she fainted on the doorstep is the reason why she is seeing the impossible. But Paulo isn’t Max. Indeed Paulo has issues of his own, he wants to know who his grandfather is because he knows the man is still alive. And for Paulo to find out who Max is, he must ask Shelley, even if this will be the first she has heard of it too.

Before Ever After is the debut novel of an author who shows much promise. It successfully combines a range of ideas and genres to create something not merely magical but also extremely romantic, up-to-date, and informing. At once a travel log, a historical fantasy, a comedy, and a tragedy, the book presents itself as something incredible.

The story is told through a compilation of flashbacks and present-time reflections. As the basic idea is for the characters to discover who Max is, the flashbacks are used in order to show how Max had hinted at things all along, and the present-time is used for Paulo and Shelley to work out what was going in. Indeed the flashbacks are stories within a story within a story, the book is three layers thick, but the structure and format means that you will never be at a loss for what time period you are currently reading about. The setting of the present day is mostly a plane, which gives the characters plenty of time to chew things over, and while you may find yourself wanting it to be over already so that you can meet Max, the fast pace of the novel means that the satisfaction of reading it and taking in all of the information is much more exciting. Indeed you never know if you actually will get to meet Max in the present time, and that in itself spurs you on because he’s such a great character that you really hope you will. All of the suggestions and especially the very first page of the book, tell you that he is very likely paranormal in some way, but Sotto does a good job of letting you wait to find out if it is true or not. And you will be wondering until the end.

“Now listen campers,” Max said. “Take note of this place in case you get lost during our field trip and need to find your way back home. If you don’t think you can remember where we started from, you can purchase a baguette and leave a trail of bread crumbs. Oh, and before we head off, there are three things you must remember. First, don’t talk to strangers. Second, you need to be aware that your travel insurance does not cover acts of stupidity or alien abduction. Please do your best to avoid them. And third, hold on to your mates.”

[…]

Shelley raised a brow. “Mating?”
“Mating,” Max said, “from the word mate, a word derived from the Old Dutch word maet or companion, which shares the same root as mete, which means ‘to measure’.”
“I see,” Shelley said. “So what you are in fact offering me is a measure of companionship, correct?”
“Indeed.” Max stuck out the crook of his arm. “The length of my arm to be exact. All in accordance with the guidelines of the Poultry Club, I assure you. You won’t get lost, I have a place to rest my arm, and the chickens are secure in my fidelity.”

Max is one of those characters who comes along very rarely. This reviewer would liken him to Mr Rochester of Jane Eyre and Max de Winter of Rebecca for his difference – whilst he is not like them he shares with them this certain uniqueness in quality. Max is surely a great romantic hero, yet on the face of it, for his dialogue, he is anything but. Shelley may be a strong heroine in herself, but Max is the winner here.

The inclusion of Shelley allows Sotto to show her reader a widely known issue, that of being afraid of relationships because of prior hurt. Shelley is almost paranoid about being a relationship, keeping a list on her at all times that tells her when to jump ship from dating a man – to ensure she doesn’t end up like her widowed mother, who in turn showed her how much depression could come with loss. Max too is worried about losing people, and this is apparent throughout the book; it is the way the couple figure out their relationship in a way that works for them that is so compelling.

Another factor in the book is the number of everyday issues and taboos Sotto fills her story with, and the way that she includes them like any other element. This is done through the secondary characters. Max and Shelley met when Shelley decided to sign up to join the tour group Max was taking to the continent, and it is the people on the tour with them that make the novel so valuable. The tour group consists of a young American called Dex – Shelley’s cultural male counterpart, Rose and Jonathan – an elderly couple in the prime of their sexual lives, and camera-wielding Brad and his partner Simon. Rose is very open about her sex life, and Brad and Simon are just a gay couple – there is no reasoning behind anything, Sotto has included subjects to be as normal as anything else, and this lack of pointed political correctness in a book that otherwise oozes it is particularly refreshing. With the historical content and present-day happens race is also included, and Max’s nature as a possibly paranormal person is drenched in issues of morality.

She sank her teeth into melted cheese and summer, unleashing a silk stream of eggs and cream in her mouth. A buttery earthiness lingered on her tongue. She gulped orange juice to keep from moaning from the world’s first egg orgasm.
Rose gave Shelley a knowing look. “I came as well, dear. Twice.”
Jonathan sputtered, turning a shade brighter than the raspberry preserves on his baguette. “Ah… um… yes, yes, wonderful eggs, Max. Très magnifique.”
Shelley did not recover quite as elegantly, and was still choking on the juice that had spurted out of her nose and onto Max’s shirt. Max came to her rescue with a couple of solid pats to her back, a napkin, and a grin.

Considering Rose’s frankness about her sex life, it should not surprise you that at times the book is hilarious. Whilst it is not graphic, Sotto lets the jokes run wild and there are numerous references to loud noises and length as much as there is travelling around the continent.

And travel makes up a huge section of this book, providing the basis for the character’s meeting, the reason for the history, and what Sotto wanted to talk about as a keen traveller herself. There is a great deal of information on the places visited, which are diverse in location and culture. What is interesting is that Sotto is relentless in her goal of introducing her characters, and thus her readers, to lesser-known gems in Europe. Through these lesser-known places, Sotto is able to create the world she wishes for Max to explain to his tourists, and it gives her free reign in the historical fiction department. Quick research will show you what is factual and what is not, and this is another part of what makes the book so appealing, that you are reading a blend of travel log and history and learning so much all at once. The historical rewrites are something in themselves, with Sotto often referencing well-known figures in order to provide background context, and twisting both facts and possibilities, such as the idea that Marie Antoinette’s Petit Trianon was a place of debauchery, in order to produce the result she wants. Stretching from the 1970s all the way back to Ancient Rome, across different religions and cultures, with a variety of fantasy characters and just plain interesting ones, there is bound to be something to interest you in the history chapters.

“I told you it was nothing,” Adrien said. “Although the duchess did appear to be the tiniest bit cross with me. But then again, I could be mistaken.”
“Mistaken? How so?”
“Well, I was rather busy dodging the various heavy brass objects she was throwing my way to really pay attention to what she was saying.”

There are a couple of less positive factors to the book and these concern the way Sotto uses description. There is an excess use of similes where what is really happening is sacrificed for descriptive and poetic metaphors. The issue with the similes is that they create melodrama in places where melodrama is not needed and can sometimes cause confusion as to what is happening. And there are short bursts of info-dumping and a few clunky dialogues. However these negative parts are rather like the excessive use of humour in a Terry Pratchett Discworld novel – it is easy to accept because the good vastly outweighs it and it is understandable that Sotto is still coming into her own as a writer, still working out her style and voice. The plot and characters are what’s important, and they are enough to keep you reading when the written word falls down a bit.

Before Ever After is a very apt name, giving you everything you need to know about the book without really giving you anything at all. If this is what happened before, then what happens after? Is there an after? Was there ever really a “before”?

The scent of strawberries, or rather what strawberries might smell like if they were made from melted plastic and disinfectant, filled the white-tiled room.

It is impossible to do justice to this story. Let that statement be the conclusion.

I received this book for review from Crown Publishing Group, Random House.

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Speaking to Samantha Sotto about Before Ever After, Love & Gravity, and A Dream Of Trees (spoilers included)

Tune in as Charlie Place and Samantha Sotto discuss characters that join you in your car in the midst of a traffic jam, time travelling with Issac Newton, switching from your fully researched work in progress to a story that needs to be told, and… chickens?

If you’re unable to use the media player above, this page has various other options for listening.

If work is your everything, where does life fit in?

Publisher: Carina Press
Pages: 64
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-426-89386-5
First Published: 4th June 2012
Date Reviewed: 21st June 2012
Rating: 4/5

Cam was quite happy living at the camp until he heard Anna was coming back. Remembering her as an irritating ten year old he’s not exactly prepared when the beautiful woman arrives at the house next door. But Anna doesn’t plan on staying long as she’s looking for a new job in the city, and as Cam knows that she’s career-driven, the odds she’d stay for him aren’t in his favour. He keeps his thoughts of kissing her to himself, but inevitably that won’t last for long and it remains to be seen how Anna will view their relationship.

Slow Summer Kisses is a fun novella that uses romance as its backbone to talk about living for yourself. This may not have been the goal in Stacey’s mind, who knows, but if ever there was a lesson to take away then this is it. Cam is more of a rural boy, not literally, but in that stereotypical way we as a society have of thinking of such a person as lacking drive. Anna is his polar opposite, career-focused and happiest when in a suit. The whole idea behind their relationship being considered a fling is that both are set in their ways, and whilst they are attracted to each other they aren’t willing to sacrifice their respective lives for the other. Stacey moves through these concepts – the self, the desire to live your dream, compromise – that despite the short length managed to be discussed well enough to make an impact on the reader. They might not be discussed as thoroughly as, say, a lifestyle coach’s manual, but the fictional aspect, the romance and realistic characters, mean that you learn it from a perspective of experience. And it really doesn’t matter that that experience has been gained by two people who only exist on a page.

The characters. Cam is a good hero, and while he may share the protective elements of the Kowalski men of Stacey’s backlist, he is of a very different mould. Indeed if you are a fan of the Kowalski series do not expect this book to be in any way the same because barring a similarity to Keri’s job in Exclusively Yours, it isn’t. But then that isn’t a bad thing and the difference allows Stacey to explore new ideas, as previously discussed. Anna is an intriguing character. At once she is one person and another, and that makes her accessible to any reader – readers who prefer their female characters to be more traditional, domestic, and readers who prefer women to be working just as much as their partner does. Stacey’s writing of Cam succeeds in creating a bias against Anna at first, which is rather clever really because it means that the reader comes to love Anna at the same pace as Cam, albeit that the reader’s love is platonic. You get to know the characters very well in the short time it takes to read the book as they are finely written. The story is driven equally by characters and plot, but it can be hard sometimes to factor in just how important the plot is, the characters taking all your attention.

She was painting the top edge of the window trim. And she was doing it by standing on a step stool, which was balanced on the table she must have dragged over to the wall. She was going to break her neck.
“Dammit,” he yelled without thinking.
She stopped painting and looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Why are you doing something stupid while I’m trying to avoid you?”
“Why are you trying to avoid me?”
He growled and shoved his hand through his hair. “So I don’t kiss you again.”

[…]

“You don’t have to avoid me,” she said. “If you don’t want to kiss me again, don’t kiss me.”
“I do want to kiss you again. That’s why I’m avoiding you.”
“Ah,” she said, as if it made any more sense to her than it did to him. “Maybe you should just kiss me again and get it over with.”

The relationship seems to happen very quickly, rather it does happen quickly. This can jolt you out of the story for a time but it is the reasonable result of the book being a novella. However there is a great attempt to slow things down. That “slow” is in the title is telling because Cam wants Anna to slow down, to relax, and of course their relationship becomes part of that.

As for the passion in the relationship there are a few sex scenes that are detailed but not particularly graphic. And as usual Stacey has given her characters a good sex education and they are responsible each time.

Slow Summer Kisses takes a quick story format and asks “what’s the rush?” In the same way that Cam teaches Anna to live in the moment and love it, so the story shows us that a lesser word count doesn’t mean a hurried or lacking tale. Perhaps the best part is that the book demonstrates that women can be breadwinners just as much as men, and, as such, are just as liable nowadays to let life run away with them as their male counterparts.

Pull up a chair, get your knitting out, and read this book. It’s what Cam suggests, book aside, and you might just find it works for you too.

I received this book for review from Carina Press.

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No matter what, do what is right.

Publisher: Quercus
Pages: 372
Type: Fiction
Age: Young Adult
ISBN: 978-0-85738-205-4
First Published: 22nd December 2011
Date Reviewed: 18th May 2012
Rating: 4/5

Something happened on the school trip to rainy Scotland. Tara died. And although it was an accident, it could have been prevented. Alice knows all about it, she would do. But it’s difficult to tell people because of the repercussions – on her, on her friends. Yet not telling also leads to difficulties. When Tara appears as a ghost to Alice, asking her to do something about it, or rather, knowing Tara, jesting her about it all, Alice knows she has to do something. But can she, especially when there’s love in the air for her, a love that is now somewhat impossible?

Here. Now. Jack. Me. And a room full of dead lizards.

The first thing that strikes you about Clarke – it did in Entangled and does again in Torn – is just how blunt and straight to the point her writing is. Clarke doesn’t hold back, confining views and words to subtext, no, she lets it all out, hitting you smack in the face so that you are under no illusions. And it means that you become more invested in what’s going on than you might have otherwise, because if you are going to read the book, then you are damn well going know everything and accept it.

You would think that this would make for an offensive style, but Clarke is one of the best authors of young adult literature in getting to the real issues and not glossing over them. She doesn’t use lovely language in order to make her stories bittersweet, but she succeeds every single time in presenting the reader with exactly why they should do this or that or believe in something.

Because Clarke’s talent is most certainly in her storytelling, and it’s clear that she has something to say. And while she is blunt, there is no pressure, which mixed together makes a strong impact. You follow Alice’s story, her days when she wonders what she should do, and while the emphasis is on doing the right thing, Clarke does show you why it would be tempting to keep quiet, to think of how speaking out would affect your self, your life. The book is a very easy read with no slow moments, it looks like it will take no effort, but the power lies between the words, it’s woven around them and before you know it you’re knee deep in a multi-threaded story.

While the overall concept is basic, it allows the author to really analyse everything and to go into the small details. What is most interesting is that there are no sub-plots. Although at first it appears that some plot points are secondary stories, every part relates back to the main plot. You get the present, you get the future, you get the back story and the back back story, and you get it from various points of view while never straying from Alice’s first-person present tense monologue.

Alice proves an interesting choice of character because her strength takes a long time to develop, and for the most part she is very passive. Yet she represents the average teenager who wants to fit in while making sure others aren’t left out, and wanting a good life while acknowledging that doing so would cause issues. Ultimately it’s a case of everything happening at the wrong time, and the worst things that could happen colliding with the best things that could happen. And when things don’t happen as they should, there are repercussions.

The bluntness of Clarke’s writing, together with the passiveness and very much usual (in YA) personality of Alice means that the book can appeal to and catch the eye of the regular paranormal and dystopian teenage audiences, whilst giving them a few life lessons. Indeed while Lauren Oliver’s Before I Fall is a great example of how to present issues to readers, there is a lot of emphasis on the romance that somehow blurs your thoughts to the other issues at times. Clarke, on the other hand, uses romance purely to aid what she wants to say, and to demonstrate just how bad things can get. Romance is a big draw in teenage stories, and she adheres to it, but she’ll use it to get the result she wants. Not surprisingly the romance in Torn is very believable and true to life. You can believe in it because you can relate to it in some way.

And when it comes to the romance, Clarke uses her influence as a writer to educate on safe sex, in fact she makes it so that it’s the boy who points out that there is no contraception and thus it would be an idea to wait. And again, it’s real, and Clarke doesn’t portray Alice in a bad light for having said that contraception didn’t matter. The author shows that forgetting things in a moment of lust is natural and okay, but be sure you realise what the consequences would be before you continue so that you don’t continue – in other words, lust is there and that’s fine, but don’t let it control you. And always put one on. It’s a short scene with a strong message, but because she has used the message as content for dialogue it does not sound like preaching, it sounds natural, the sort of conversation a person should have, and will thus surely make readers think.

Clarke isn’t one for finishing her books with a full ending, and her work is surely better for it because it leaves you wondering about all the possibilities and dissecting which one is most likely from what you have read. She does give you all the information you need to work it out, however.

Entangled was a very promising start. Torn has cemented Clarke’s importance and talent in the young adult market.

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The circus is all fun and games, right?

Publisher: Harvill Seeker (Random House)
Pages: 385
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-846-55523-7
First Published: 13th September 2011
Date Reviewed: 17th April 2012
Rating: 5/5

Almost every night a circus appears in an undisclosed location, staying there for a short while before moving on. To the patrons it’s spectacular but still a circus with tricks. Yet for those who work for it, especially a select few, it’s more than your average magic box, being a stage for some truly amazing spells and illusions, and one particular thread of illusions in particular.

The Night Circus is a fantastic fantasy-orientated novel that lures you in unknowingly. What is most important to discern, in many ways, is that while the promise of supernatural events seems evident from the first page, from, indeed, the cover of the book, it does take a while to really show its colours. For a good length of time, although there is magic there, true magic, it does not infiltrate the circus as much as you might have thought. In many ways the circus appears to be too realistic to warrant the supposed magic and sometimes the story does not appear to be heading anywhere. But when you reach the end of the book, you can’t help but wonder if that was part of the magic in itself. The supernatural element of the book becomes very important and becomes the book’s sole reason for being towards the end.

The story is told from the third-person points of view of a number of characters. The tense usage is present which adds to the mystery. On some occasions Morgenstern brings the reader into the story, addressing them directly, and describing the circus in the second person. It’s rather like listening to a meditation instructor, the words and the overall picture being one that you don’t want to walk away from, even if at times it seems incredibly regular. While the passages about the reader obviously symbolise the present day, the chapters from the characters’ points of view are written about various difference times, jumping back and forth between the late 19th century and early 20th.

And at first all that jumping seems silly and needlessly confusing, but like the circus managers who want the audience to be able to see the performances from every angle, so Morgenstern wants to tell her story through everyone, wanting to provide the back story and future story as well as numerous “present” stories. Of course this means that for a long time it gives the impression that Morgenstern is just describing her concept, that there isn’t actually a real plot and that the book is character led – but that is where the long ending comes into play, suddenly bringing all the different threads together, explaining everything you hadn’t thought to query, and sweeping you up into a magical realism written to perfection.

Whilst one can point to two main characters in this book, there are very few characters that would be considered secondary. Each person plays a specific role, roles that often only become apparent much later. And whilst you may feel you do not know the characters well, for Morgenstern spends little time detailing their general personalities, you find that actually, you know more than you thought. And you find that the characters probably know more about you than you know about them.

The magic and paranormal elements are of two kinds; the first of the kind that people often dream is real (illusions, controlling things with the mind), and the second, which is more to do with telling the future and with premonitions. Being that the second kind is quite widely accepted, that Morgenstern employs the less realistic, so woven into the first, actually succeeds in making the illusions and manipulations a real possibility in the world.

With a book so tied up in magic and fantasy, a romantic thread comes as no surprise. The way Morgenstern writes, her use of phrases, and the way the romance blends with the fantasy, makes for a new fairytale. Both epic and regular, the romance thread heightens the overall atmosphere and adds much to the plot.

Yet the book is dark. A dark fairytale more suited to huntsmen told to kill and having to turn into sea spray upon losing the prince, than fairy godmothers and kingdom-waking kisses. It is both very modern and very traditional, and it is clear from the detail that Morgenstern knows her subject very well. When the reader is sitting there in wonder, basking in the magic going on, Morgenstern takes a knife and tears it apart, showing that where there is skill, there is also abuse. That where there seems to be freedom, there is slavery.

It is difficult to talk of a book like The Night Circus in a way that does it justice without revealing everything; such is the way the story opens up to the reader. This review could never hope to truly present it convincingly unless the writer of it were able to conjure doves from paper, Ice Gardens that never melt, and never-ending mazes.

So let those three pictures be the conclusion. The Night Circus may stay around for a while, but no one knows when it will disappear, or when it will return. In order to visit you must go when it arrives and not hesitate. Thus it is the same with this book. A book is in the spotlight for a time, and then fades. Do not let this one be forgotten.

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