Reading challenge 2012: February submissions

Happy new year and welcome to the new reading challenge 2012 on Book After Book!

So far, 23 people have signed up but don't worry if you're not one of them: there is still time to join. If you want to enjoy sharing your opinions about books with fellow readers, please click here and add your name to the list.

After that, all you need to do is spend pleasurable hours immersed in a book, write your thoughts on your blog (or GoodReads, Amazon etc.) and submit your link via the tool provided here month after month.

When submitting your review, please enter your name + title of the book + author of the book in the "Name" field. For example: BrightonBlogger, The Brave by Nicholas Evans. Thank you.




Please share the details of this challenge by talking about it on Twitter and Facebook, by displaying the logo on your sidebar etc. The more, the merrier!

To encourage your participation, author Nicola May has kindly agreed to offer three copies of her novel, Working It Out. The books will be awarded to three participants at the end of February, regardless of where they are based or how many books they will have read and reviewed by then (although one is the minimum requirement).

Happy reading and good luck!

Books through my lens #13

The lens, this time, isn't actually mine! This picture was taken by my friend Jeane one fine morning as she was enjoying S. G. Browne's Fated and a cup of tea in Stratford, London. The bright colours, all those straight lines and the book catching the viewer's eye made for a great composition that I just had to share with all of you!

Jane Urquhart on writing Sanctuary Line

One of the things that has always delighted me about writing novels is how astonished the author herself can sometimes be by the way a novel is conceived or by the way it ends. In an early novel, The Underpainter, for example, I was completely surprised and taken aback toward the conclusion of the first draft by what my male protagonist ultimately decided to do. And, yet, once I got over the shock, I realized that his act of unkindness was completely in character. It was about this time that I began to understand that I was writing about the world the way it is, not the way I want it to be, and that I would have to allow my characters to be themselves… not just an extensions of my own personality.

Once again in Sanctuary Line the end of the book was initially as much a surprise to me, the writer, as it has been for many readers. Writing is a very visual experience for me; I actually “see” what is going on while I am working. I knew that one more character would be entering the book in the final section , but the man I visualized stepping out of the car and walking down the lane was very different from the man my narrator had been building in her imagination, and different, therefore, from the man I had been expecting. This, of course, speaks to the unreliability of narrative, and especially the unrealistic and often negative fantasy dramas that we watch in our own inner theatres when we, like Liz my main character, are unhappy. Liz has just lost her beloved cousin Mandy in Afghanistan. Mandy was an officer and military strategist who was involved in a difficult love affair, and Liz, who has never met Mandy’s lover, begins to believe that he is the full personification of everything cruel, rigid, and brutal about military life. She quotes Sylvia Plath in her mind --- “the brute, brute, heart of a brute like you” --- and interprets his reported magnetism as the behaviour of a manipulator. In the end, she is surprised to discover that the actual man is utterly unlike her own demonized version.

Sometimes it seems that the whole world is devoted to the creation of one’s novel. I knew that one arm of Liz’s ancestral family, the Butlers, were going to be Irish lighthouse keepers. What I did not know was that in the midst of the first draft of the novel during a visit to Florida, I would come across Ponce Inlet Lighthouse, and how that lighthouse eventually would work its way into the book. It is a long way from Ireland to Florida and I had a fascinating time taking my characters there, and while I was taking them there, it seemed to me that the real reason I had come to Florida in the first place was to discover the lighthouse and create a story about it.

But the outside world had made contributions to Sanctuary Line from the beginning. I can recall with great clarity the day in late August when Sanctuary Line began to take shape. I was driving along the shore of Lake Ontario on a dusty rural road when I spotted a bright orange tree and pulled over the verge to examine it more carefully. What appeared to be a plethora of vibrantly coloured leaves was in fact a gathering of hundreds of thousands of monarch butterflies banding together in order to prepare for their annual migration to Mexico. During my childhood there had been a “butterfly tree” just like this on my family’s property, and each year we looked forward to the moment at the end of the summer when it was transformed by the monarchs. Both the tree and the butterflies had disappeared in recent years, so it was a great pleasure to know that elsewhere this miracle was still taking place.

I eventually pulled away from the tree and began to drive home. About two miles further down the road I noticed a field in which a number of seasonal migrant workers were harvesting strawberries. I realized that they too would be returning to Mexico in a week or so. By the time I got back to my office that afternoon, I knew a novel had been conceived. This was a surprise and a gift to me. I had not consciously been looking for a subject, but, once I started writing, it felt, somehow, as if the subject had been looking for me.

Jane Urquhart will be discussing her latest novel, Sanctuary Line, published by MacLehose Press, on Thursday 26th January from 10:30 – 12:00. For more details, please click here.

Book review: She’s Never Coming Back

By Hans Koppel
Translated by Kari Dickson
Published by Sphere

It is safe to say that my choice of reading material is not usually truculent. That’s why I surprised myself when I decided to read a novel whose front cover prominently displays a quote describing it as a ‘terrifying crime novel’.

I started to read expecting the worse and - it being impossible to put the book down - a few hours later I was trying to understand what had hit me.

Let’s be clear: I loved this book and I’m grateful to Sphere for publishing this Swedish novel by author Karl Petter Lidbeck who, being a children’s literature author, decided to have it published under the pen name of Hans Koppel. I can see why he doesn’t want to have the two genres mixing on the bookshelves!

The plot is simple enough: one day after work, Ylva does not return home. When she hasn’t returned 24 hours later, her husband Mike starts to worry and calls the police. Ylva seems to have disappeared without a trace and, month after month, Mike and his daughter Sanna try to move on. All this without knowing that Ylva is being held captive in a house across the street. Ylva can’t reach her family but she can see her husband and her daughter on a TV screen installed in the cellar where she’s kept. That’s what you’d describe as twisting the knife in the wound, I suppose.

The kidnapping happens right at the beginning of the book, while the rest of the novel explores themes of despair and resignation – both Ylva’s and her husband’s – as well as vengeance and abuse. I’ve read reviews of this book that mention the horrible scenes of sexual humiliation and violence and, to be honest, I was surprised as they didn’t particularly stand out for me.

What I found terrifying was not, as I anticipated, the brutality of the events. It was more subtle than that and had to do with my own feelings towards the victim and the perpetrators. See, the fact is that the plot is not as simple as I had you believe at first but I can’t reveal too much without spoiling the surprise. Let’s just say that the more I got to know about Ylva, the less sympathetic I felt towards her. And, given her situation, that felt wrong. Or scary, in fact.

I will definitely be waiting for Koppel’s next translated novel.

In conversation with... Laura Wilkinson

Hello Laura! First of all, I would like to congratulate you on the publication of BloodMining. Can you tell us what it is about?

A: Thank you. Primarily set in Wales in the not-too-distant future, it’s about a mother, Megan, whose son is diagnosed with a terminal, hereditary condition. A condition passed down the mother’s line. Buried family secrets are revealed during the search for a donor to save his life and Megan finds out the truth about her past, and its relationship with an appalling national tragedy.

This is your first published work of fiction. How did your book deal come about and how did you feel to finally see your first novel in print?

A: Unbelievable. It feels unbelievable, quite surreal. Even now, a year and a bit after receiving the call from Bridge House informing me that I’d won their debut novel competition and they’d like to publish the book. After a couple of other competition short listings and near misses with interested agents I’d consigned BloodMining to the ‘failed first novel’ drawer. So it’s amazing and, of course, utterly wonderful. Writing a novel involves dedication, commitment and a huge amount of hard work. After two years of writing and rewriting it’s also a relief to see it come to fruition – to know that the graft was not in vain. I feel so lucky and privileged that people will read my story.

The subject of motherhood is central to BloodMining. How much of what you wrote is autobiographical and how much is just the fruit of your imagination and research?

A: It is not autobiographical, I’m glad to say. I have two healthy boys and I hope never to confront anything as threatening to their well-being as my protagonist Megan does. Of course, I hope there is emotional truth in my character’s experiences and perhaps this would have been harder to achieve without the experience of motherhood myself, but perhaps not. The imagination is a powerful thing. Also, as I say in the extras bit at the back of the book, although BloodMining is in no way autobiographical it is fair to say that my life experience influenced the exploration of identity in the novel, and what it means to be a parent. Raised by a stepfather, I knew virtually nothing about my biological father until I was an adult. I could not have asked for a better father than the man who raised me, but had I had the opportunity of tracing my biological father, who knows what I would have done.

BloodMining is an intriguing title. Did the title come before or after the novel? Or perhaps it changed while the novel itself took form?

A: It came as the novel progressed through its many drafts. The working title during the early months of writing was Thicker than Water, but aware this was all wrong, it quickly morphed into Bloodlines. Sometime during draft three I did a search on Amazon which threw up numerous books called Bloodlines so I knew it had to change again. Also, Bloodlines felt too much like a crime novel. I wanted to keep ‘blood’ because it’s all about family, and identity, and ‘mining’ came after a long conversation with my sister (they call it brainstorming in business circles, don’t they?), principally because Megan has to dig deep to unearth the truth.

If you are already working on your next writing project, would you mind giving us a little anticipation of what we are to expect?

A: Not at all. Novel #2 follows the relationship between a deformed boy and a beautiful, psychologically damaged woman, an artist. One is on a quest to look ‘normal’, the other is experimenting with cosmetic surgery as a means of artistic expression. It’s set in Manchester in the 1980s and London in the 90s. It’s pretty dark, though there’s humour in there too.

Due to the popularity of social networking websites, it seems that interacting with readers – be it via a Twitter account, a Facebook page, a blog etc. – is becoming increasingly important. How do you cope with these new demands on authors and do you think that they somehow disrupt your writing schedule?

A: I’m a big fan of Twitter, as well as Facebook and other networking websites. As well as connecting with readers – and it’s fantastic to get reader feedback this way - I have made some really good writing buddies. But, you need to be disciplined. Social networks are beasts that need feeding. It’s all too easy to allow them to become very, very greedy and eat away your writing time. Especially if, like me, you have other jobs as well as writing.

On my writing days I am rigorous about the amount of time I spend on Twitter et al. When I am writing nothing gets in the way. I turn off Outlook, Tweetdeck and Explorer, and only put them back on once I have my target word count, or I’ve edited three chapters, or whatever goal I have set myself. On other days, when I tend to write in the evening once my kids are in bed, I dedicate an hour or so (sometimes more, sometimes less) after supper to networking while my boys are playing or just hanging out.

What one fundamental piece of advice would you give to aspiring writers?

A: Read, read, read. Especially in your chosen genre.

And lastly, is there anything that you would like to share that I haven’t asked?

A If you are a reader, please do seek out and support the independent presses. There’s some great work out there, but it’s hard to find because the small houses don’t have the marketing budgets that the big six do, who can get their books into the shop fronts, on the three-for-two tables and so on. Some smaller houses to look out for are: Myriad (Brighton-based), Tindall Street, Arcadia, Seren, Honno, Sandstone and Alma. There are many more, but it’ll take too long here.

If you’re an unpublished writer, keep at it. Practise your craft and keep submitting. And good luck!

You can follow Laura on Twitter and keep up-to-date with her latest news on her website.

And for a chance to win a copy of BloodMining, click here and complete the form. The competition will close on the 6th February at 1pm.

Kimberly Menozzi: Cappuccino, Anytime

If I say to someone back home in the US that my day job is working as an English teacher, certain expectations might leap to mind. For instance, they might picture a room with neat and orderly rows of desks with young children or teenagers seated in them, either a chalkboard or whiteboard on the wall, perhaps even a bell which rings to denote the start and end of a lesson.

While this is not too far off the mark for some teachers, for me, it's almost completely wrong.

I teach English as a Second Language (ESL) here in Italy – and most of my students haven't been teenagers, much less children, for a good long while. I don't have a classroom filled with desks, or a bell to tell me when to start and/or stop the lesson. The only times I get to use a whiteboard are when I'm teaching at the school itself – and sometimes not even then.

Instead, I get to travel (in my case, this means walk) around the city, visiting different offices for an array of businesses including banks and fashion houses. I teach groups and individuals alike, and sometimes I'm lucky enough to develop a real rapport with my students, which makes all the walking around – in rain, snow, wind, and sun – worth it.

One student in particular stands out in my memory for a number of reasons. His English was remarkably good, his vocabulary quite substantial. He worked for a bank where I had many other students, and we met twice a week for two hours per lesson. Since he was already well-versed in legal terms in English, we had little need for lessons on that subject. It wasn't long before our grammar lessons all but ceased and we began having conversations about his interests outside of work – many of which we had in common.

One afternoon I arrived and sat in the reception area, waiting for him to show me to whatever meeting room we would be occupying for the lesson. When he emerged from the stairwell, however, I was somewhat dismayed to see he already had his coat on.

Great, he's a no-show, then.

I stood to greet him as he approached, one hand extended to me. He smiled, his bald head gleaming in the last of the daylight filtering through the picture windows. "Hello, Kimberly," he said and I couldn't help smiling back at him, even though I was ruing the fact that I'd walked all the way across town only to have him cancel our lesson at the last minute. At least I'd still get paid.

"Hello," I said as his hand engulfed mine. "Do you have a meeting?"

"Oh, no. I thought we'd do something different," he said, already leading me toward the front doors and the city street beyond them.

Hmmm.

"What's that, then?"

"I thought we could talk over coffee, today."

As we stepped back out into the cold and strolled across the street to the nearest coffee bar, he explained that all the meeting rooms were occupied and he'd forgotten to reserve one after our previous lesson.

No harm done, then.

I stepped into the bar while he held the door for me. The interior was classic Italian: all terra-cotta flooring, red paint and dark wood trim, filled with employees from the local businesses and, of course, from the bank itself. Two patrons had even brought their dogs in out of the frosty December air, and the tiny terrier and shih-tzu were getting to know each other with amiable sniffs amidst the bustling crowd dressed in designer suits and elegant tailleur.

As usual, I felt completely out of place.

"So what would you like? A cappuccino, I bet. Women love cappuccino."

I had to laugh. "That would be fine. Thanks."

He looked around, spotted a table, and pointed it out to me. "Why not grab that one for us?"

I nodded and went to the table, where I watched him shove his way between a couple of men in expensive suits to place our order. I noted the cashier near the door, checked the price of the cappuccino on the board and felt in my pocket for the change I'd put there before leaving for work. Luckily I'd brought enough with me to pay for this unexpected treat.

A few minutes later he joined me, placing the cups on the chest-high table where I stood. "Do you want sugar?"

"I can get it," I said, already moving toward the counter.

He stopped me, shaking his head. "No, I'll do it. It's too crowded in here."

In spite of myself, I acquiesced and found I was quite pleased that he would do this for me. I was used to my husband doing these little tasks – ordering my drink or meal, retrieving a packet or two of sugar, whatever – but to have a student doing so felt especially nice. This simple display of chivalry made something of an impression on me.

He returned with several packets of both white and brown sugar and placed them next to my cup and saucer. As I tore open the brown sugar packets and poured them carefully into the center of the foam atop my drink, I watched him drink his espresso. He took a gulp which was probably half the contents of the cup. He hadn't added any sugar – the thought of the hot, bitter taste gave me a small shiver in spite of the close warmth of the café.

"Okay," I said, "I have to ask you something."

"All right, what is it?"

"It's about cappuccino. I've always heard one shouldn't order a cappuccino after eleven a.m., yet you suggested it to me right away. Why is that?"

He smiled at me while I took a sip of my drink. "There are some people who say that, it's true. I don't. Did you ever ask your husband about that 'rule'?"

"Yes, I did. He said it wasn't true, too. But I always hear it – from guidebooks and travel programs, mostly, but also from other expats who've lived here a long time."

"Do you like the cappuccino?" he asked.

"I do. I prefer it."

"Then drink the cappuccino." He bolted back the rest of his espresso so there was scarcely a trace of the crema left behind. "Maybe don't have it after dinner. It might affect your digestion."

"Okay."

We continued chatting for a few minutes while I finished my drink and then we made our way toward the cashier and the door. I dug my coin purse out of my pocket and he reached out one hand to stop me.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm paying for my order."

"No, you're not." He gestured at the woman behind the cassa and she nodded, making a note next to the register. "You're my guest. I invited you, so I pay."

"Fair enough, I guess. But I'll pay next time."

"No," he said, his breath turning to fog as we stepped out into a street brightened with festive holiday lights.

"Why not? We should take turns."

"No. You're a lady, and I'm a man. You're the teacher, and I'm the student. I will pay."

"So much for equality of the sexes," I said with a small laugh. "Even if it's hard for me to mind too much, in this case."

He laughed too and, since the front entrance of the bank was now closed for business, we strolled around to the back to go in and continue our lesson.

From that evening on, every lesson began with a coffee at one of the nearby cafés. We'd have a casual chat about anything but work and we'd have a hot drink before going back inside the centuries-old palazzo which housed the bank. He always paid. I always had a cappuccino.

I still do, too. Anytime I want one.

***

Kimberly Menozzi has her own website and can be contacted via Facebook and Twitter too. What more could you possibly want?

New Beginnings – Nicola May on self-publishing

This time last year, I wasn’t Nicola May, author of chick lit novels. I was just Nicola - friend, sister, aunt, and daughter. My friends and family of course knew I had written books, but the wider world had not even heard of me.

I was at home recovering from major surgery and in the midst of a split from my long term partner when I decided to go through the pile of rejection letters I had built up from agents and publishers over the years. Yes, I know how to make myself feel better!

Coming across my ‘favourite’ rejection letter from a large publisher, saying they hoped it wasn’t a big mistake turning Working it Out down I thought sod it. I have nothing to lose by publishing myself. And there, my own story began!

I researched how to go about publishing your own novel and then that was it - I was on a mission to get my writing out to the masses. My friend Steve offered to design the cover and my website for free and another friend recommended a printing company where I could get just a few copies printed initially to test the water.

Without a budget for advertising, selling my work was up to me. I got in touch with the local papers and local radio station and arranged a live interview. I also organised an official launch in a local bar and used social media sites to create a fan base. I had such a positive response that I soon sold out of my first 100 copies and have since gone on to sell 1400 more.

I would love a major publisher to recognise my talent this year. Self-publishing is hard work, promotion takes up a lot of time and I would rather put all my energies in to the writing itself.
However, I do not regret for one minute setting out on this path and I am enjoying every minute of it.

Nicola May, author of Working it Out, Star Fish (out in print on Feb 1st) and Better Together.

To win one of three copies of Working it Out, please join my reading challenge 2012 and submit a book review by the end of February. For more details, please click here.

Green Books - a new monthly feature

Reading and the environment are two of my greatest interests, so I was delighted when Silvia invited me to write a series of monthly blog-posts here on green issues and reading.

Even in these days of the internet, books are often the best way to learn about nature and environmental issues, so I'll share some of my favourite books on these topics.

Many a nature-lover must mourn the number of trees cut down to make books so I'll write about ways in which the publishing industry is trying to become greener. I'll also compare books and electronic reading devices to investigate their relative carbon footprints.

And what happens when books become literally unreadable? I'll look at some examples of book art, including the mysterious book sculptures that have been delighting literary Edinburgh for the past year or so.

I'll also share some ideas for how to find inspiration if you want to write about nature and environmental issues.

So, here's looking forward to the next six months of green reading!

Juliet
Crafty Green Poet

Books through my lens #12

After a long walk in the countryside, from and to Steyning via Chanctonbury, The Steyning Bookshop (106 High Street, Steyning, West Sussex, BN44 3RD; 01903 812062) was like a mirage. I could already feel the warmth of books spreading through my cold limbs. Unfortunately, it was a Sunday and the bookshop was closed. As well as the beauty of the West Sussex landscape, a quick peek through the windows convinced me that I will have to go back!

Event review: Sir Frederick Ashton's Romeo and Juliet

The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, the two star-crossed lovers, is world renowned and holds a special place in my heart as it was the first Shakespeare play that I ever read. I must have been about 15 when, after a couple of years of learning English, I decided that it was time to put all abridged versions for teenagers aside and get on with the real thing.

I will always be grateful to the Mondadori bilingual edition for allowing me to navigate the language of the Bard with the help of Alfredo Orbetello’s translation. There must have been more recent translations but this first copy of Romeo and Juliet is the one I keep going back when I need to restore my faith in romantic love. I mean, I dare anyone to read it and not feel something shift deep inside!

It might be the understatement of the year, but Romeo and Juliet would not be the success it is without Shakespeare’s genius as a wordsmith. That’s why my curiosity was instantly awakened when I heard that the Peter Schaufuss Ballet would come to Brighton in December to perform Sir Frederick Ashton’s production of Romeo and Juliet.

How was the Danish choreographer going to express the passion that drives all of the Shakespearian characters - from the two lovers to Mercutio and Tybalt - without words?



That was the answer! The simplicity - sparseness, even - of the stage made you focus all your attention on the dancers, whose movements - essential and, if you allow me, almost minimalist - powerfully conveyed emotions in their rawest form, underlined by the music written by Sergei Prokofiev and played live by the orchestra, masterfully directed by Igor Shavruk.

I greatly enjoyed Johan Christensen and his feisty rendition of Tybalt but - whenever they were on stage - I couldn’t take my eyes off Stefan Wise and Megumi Oki in the role of Romeo and Juliet. Naïve, determinate, passionate, desperate… the vibes coming from the stage were so intense and emotional that the final scene in the crypt left me in tears.

Another success for Peter Schaufuss, who also made a cameo appearance as Friar Laurence.

To learn more about the Peter Schaufuss Ballet, please click here, while to read online or download a copy of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, visit the Project Gutenberg website via this link.