Sunday 27 September 2020

LIFE BEFORE GOODREADS...



Recently, on Twitter, I noticed the hashtag #Goodreads trending and was surprised to discover a debate raging about the pros and cons of the site. For those yet to discover Goodreads, it is a social media platform established in 2007 for book lovers to catalogue, share and review books. Today it is owned by Amazon and is the world's largest site for readers and book recommendations.



Back to the debate, and though some readers confessed to finding the platform clunky to navigate, for the most part bookworms seemed happy with what Goodreads has to offer. They find it informative (number of pages per book, genre, release dates), great for goal setting (e.g. committing to reading X number of books per year), a useful way of finding new authors, as well as a practical way of tracking books read.


Conversely, authors expressed frustration with the Goodreads star rating system, complaining that it is a blunt instrument only offering an overall rating for a book, rather than for specific elements of writing - character development, setting, dialogue, pace etc...


I have been a member of Goodreads since August 2014 but confess to mostly using it to note books reads and discover new authors/reads, rather than using it to engage with other bookworms. And this got me thinking about life before Goodreads and the notebook I used, and still use, to log my reading.

Years ago, during a rainy afternoon spent with my Granny, I began rummaging in her cupboards to help pass the time and came across an empty jotter with an index running down one side. There is a crown on the front and is says Supplied for Public Service HMSO Code 28-610. Granny had no idea where it came from. I asked if I could keep it to record books read and being at that stage in life when she was considering downsizing, she was grateful to have it taken off her hands. I can't remember if I began using it immediately, but the first entries date back to 1988 when I was still working my way through Agatha Christie and Maeve Binchy, before moving on to my John Grisham phase. A quick Google search reveals that HMSO stood for Her Majesty's Stationery Office.


As I flick through the notebook, the books I've read are like old friends reminding me of days spent on beach loungers in my twenties; time off work due to a small operation on my foot; many many hours plonked on the sofa breast-feeding. The memories roll on.


Last Sunday, as I settled to watch the TV adaptation of David Nicholls brilliant novel, Us, only a couple of minutes in and I was certain I'd read it. A quick check of Granny's notebook and there was the proof - finished reading Us on 20th April, 2015.


I have no problem with Goodreads, but will never give up on my precious notebook, as it's a link to my lovely, patient Granny, who not only spent endless hours listening to my stories but also encouraged me to write.

So, do you keep a record of books read? And if so, how? Do you love (or detest) Goodreads?

Until next time, whichever books you choose - happy reading!

Rae x




 




Saturday 19 September 2020

Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining


Every cloud has a silver lining.

The above proverb springs to mind when I consider what has happened over the last six months. Yes, even a little light can be found in the wake of a pandemic.

Let me try and explain, but first I must take you back to the end of March and introduce you to a lady who celebrated her 80th birthday this year. This lady (let's call her Alice) has always wanted to write a book, but she has discovered that it is more difficult than she thought it would be. She now knows that writing a book requires skill, stubborn perseverance and an understanding of the craft. Some of this is learnt through trial and error, and some of it by study, but there is also an element of, dare I say it, natural born talent. Alice is the first to acknowledge this and she admits herself that she is not great at "imagining plots". 

The lockdown has been particularly difficult for the older generation, as social contact is so important.  At the beginning of lockdown, Dame Esther Rantzen, T.V. presenter, producer, director and the founder of the charity The Silver Line, made a guest appearance on a radio station and suggested lockdown was the perfect time for the older generation to write their memoirs. The memoir didn't have to be long and the writer didn't have to lead an exciting life, she reassured the listeners, the normal day to day routines of their childhood would differ from the lives children lead today and be interesting to read about in years to come. I listened with growing excitement. This sounded perfect for Alice. When I delivered her food shopping the following week, socially distanced of course, I gave her an A4 lined notebook and pen, and suggested she wrote her memoir for her grandchildren and great grandchildren. "You have always wanted to write a book", I said, "Try a non-fiction book instead".

Although Alice threw me a sceptical look, I am glad to say that she took up the challenge and wrote her short memoir during the strict lockdown phase. I have just spent the last few weeks researching self publishing software, typing and editing her work, scanning suitable photographs and uploading it all onto a suitable software. I have learnt a lot about the Alice's life. She did not become a spy, travel the world or fight in any wars (far too young in WW2). In fact Alice's life was unremarkable and very normal for the time. However, she lived in a different era, a time when her mother believed that by cutting off her daughter's beautiful long hair, it would reserve her strength to fight the illness that was threatening to kill her. It has also made me realise how lucky we are today... no outside toilets, no schoolteachers who think it is okay to slap a child as young as five, easier access to transport... need I go on? Her "unremarkable" life is more remarkable than one would have first thought.

The book arrived this week and yesterday I gave it to Alice. She was delighted with the book and amazed that it was possible for her handwritten memories to be made into a hardback, professional-looking book (I hadn't told her about the software available today as I wanted to surprise her). Her memoir will never be for sale, but it will be her lasting legacy, a gift from one generation to another and hopefully handed down through her family.


So the silver lining  of this tale is that Alice has finally written a book at the grand age of 80. She even undertook a book signing, as I asked her to sign her great grandchildren's copies. However there are two silver linings to this tale as her great grandchildren (who are too young to appreciate the memoir at the moment), will one day come to know Alice through her own words... words that were written when the world was fighting a global pandemic. Hopefully the memoir of an ordinary child learning how to become an adult in the 40's, and navigate life as a woman in the 50's and 60's, will also transcend generations to come.

So we must try and remember that every cloud has a silver lining, its just that sometimes we have to look a little harder to find it.





Saturday 12 September 2020

TO GIVE BOOKS AS GIFTS? OR NOT?

Few sentences will make my heart sink lower than when someone hands me a very prettily packaged parcel on my birthday that's obviously a book and says 'Linda, you will absolutely LOVE this book.' Friends and relatives tend to assume that becauee I write I also read voraciously and in genres in which I do not write. There's a reason for me not writing in other genre ... some things I simply do not take to and reading, say, Regency romances for one (and apologies to all those wonderful writers of Regency fiction out there) is something I wouldn't choose to do. Over the years I've had many gifts of books that I have enjoyed but an awful lot more that I haven't. But the giving of books as presents? Have I done that? And did the recipients like them as much as I did? I rarely give books as presents these days because I had a severe rapping of the knuckles a few years ago. I have a long-time friend whose chosen reading I was pretty sure of - historical or period, a bit political, upstairs/downstairs scenario, well-written with a cracking story and a bit of romance thrown in. So I bought a book by a friend of mine (no names) that ticked all the above boxes and wrapped it prettily and gave it to her. Oh my! Was I taken to task for it! She told me in no uncertain terms that books are very personal things, like underwear, and we wouldn't choose underwear for our friends, would we? And lots more in that vein. So I've rarely given books as presents since. That said, I have given friends copies of my own books but only if they've shown real (not just polite) interest - and not every time I have a new book out. So, back to the beginning. I'm not about to list the books I've been given as presents that I dropped off at the charity shop as soon as was decently possible. But here are I few I'd probably never have chosen for myself which I have enjoyed. OLIVE KITTERIDGE by Elizabeth Strout (American). As one puff quote has it 'These pages hold what life puts in; experience, joy, grief, and the sometimes-painful journey to love'. That I'm round about the same age as the heroine in this book might have had something to do with why I enjoyed it so much! When an American friend gave me MIDDLESEX by Jeffrey Eugenides (Greek-American) my heart did that sinking thing. This was so not going to be me. It is, for those who've not read it, about a hermaphrodite. It has a sweeping timeline. My friend was waiting for my comments so I obliged. And I surprised myself and learned a lot about the human soul and biology in the process. Back in the day when the town where I lived had a bookshop and when I was given book tokens as presents to spend therin I used one token to buy LAST KISS GOODNIGHT by Teresa Driscoll. Confession time here. I know Teresa. Before Covid and lockdown we met up on a regular basis with other writer friends in Exeter for lunch. Teresa came to one of my booksignings so I returned the compliment and bought this one. I knew from the cover alone that it was going to break my heart. So I didn't open it. For four years. But then came lockdown and I picked it up again and I am just so very glad I did. It's a wonderful book. I like the writing style - some very short, sharp sentences. Some with just one word. Dialogue that's not in the least bit flowery. Definitely a keeper, this one. I was bought RULES FOR VISITING by Jessica Francis Kane (American - I think) for a joke really. Living by the seaside I am hostess to a constant stream of friends and relatives all the year round but mostly in summer ... although not this year for obvious reasons. A friend who visits often gave me this and in the back where there is a list of what to do and what not when visiting he wrote, 'I do my best. All engraved on my heart in stone.' This book is one that's going to stay on my bookshelf as well. Are you noticing a theme here? I have a fancy for the American writing voice. Anyway, that's fiction as gifts done and now non-fiction. Those who know me well know I love gardening. I've been on many 'garden' holidays, here and abroad, and so books on gardens are always welcome and they never make it to the charity shop. A few years ago I was given Jackie Bennett's (English) THE WRITER'S GARDEN which very neatly packaged all my loves in one. I've also got a book on Monet's Garden and Aberglasny which I take out and look at time and time again. I was going to put pictures of the book covers of all the above into the text but Blogger and my server have changed things since I last posted and although I took them off the internet and they seem to be in my picture file I'm not allowed to add them to this for some reason. So here's another picture to remind you of the theme of this blogpost. Happy reading, everyone, by whatever means the book gets into your hands.

Saturday 5 September 2020

Boo! Hiss! Why I prefer heroes to villains

 

Since Covid19 came and changed everything, I have been reading to fill my time. Nothing new in that but, as I’ve said previously, I’ve learned not to finish a book I’m not enjoying. In a further development, I’ve been using lot of the time on my hands to think about what I’ve read and to wonder what makes me enjoy a book and what not. And I’ve come to a conclusion. There are lots of reasons to like or dislike a book but the main one is…the people. 

I’ve often said my fiction is character-driven and that’s how I like it as a reader as well. I’ve never subscribed to the school of thought that says all characters have to be nice (whatever that means) as long as they’re interesting, but as I’ve analysed my response to books I read, I’ve concluded that  nor can they be entirely unpleasant.

So here’s a tale of two books. I finished them both and one of them was clearly more literary and, for simplicity, “better” than the other. In the red corner, Book A. It’s incredibly well written. It’s clever. It’s original. In the blue corner, Book B. It’s nicely written, though nothing like as well as Book A. It’’s clever, but nothing like as clever. And it’s formulaic rather than original. 

Reader, I loved Book B so much more. I won’t say I cried when it ended but I was a little sad. And the reason was because the characters in Book A were interesting enough but I really didn’t like them. Almost without exception they were selfish and introspective. They were either over-aggressive or whimperingly passive. most of them were discontented when they had plenty to be content about, and they were short of redeeming features. Almost all of them were in some way manipulative. The bad ones — and there were plenty of them — were very bad indeed. 

Book B, by contrast, offered a full range of characters from hero to villain and every one of them was human. The female lead was thoughtful, given to frustration with those around her but genuinely imbued with feeling for her fellow humans. Her love interest was charming in the right way, noble without being morally superior, and both were warmly witty. The minor characters, too, had their faults and  their redeeming features in equal measure. 

In short, if the characters in Book B were real, I would enjoy spending time with them. I would seek them out and know that, no matter the threat to me, someone would be looking out for me. If I were forced into the company of those in Book A, on the other hand, I would never relax. I would be wondering which of them was going to turn on me for no reason, and whether the inevitable attack would be verbal or physical. 

Both books, by the way, were equally suspenseful. For me, this lays to rest the argument that the only interesting characters are villains. 

So…do you subscribe to the idea that a character must be likeable to be interesting?