"Tripwire" by Lee Child

“Tripwire” is Lee Child's third Jack Reacher novel and I enjoyed it even more than the first two. His debut, “The Killing Floor”, was written in first person whereas the second novel, “Die Trying” was written in third person, as is “Tripwire”. However it seems to me that with this third book Child is really hitting his stride as a writer. 

“Tripwire” is written with a broader canvas and with greater depth to all of the minor characters. In Hook Hobie Child has created a great villain, ruthless and psychotic. 

Although the story follows a similar blueprint to the first two Reacher tales with many similar elements the writing does not seem formulaic. Child has a fantastic ability to keep the reader guessing and his plotting here is exemplary. I particularly enjoyed seeing how he carefully wove the plot strands together, slowly resolving each thread for the reader. It's a real skill.

His prose has a sparse economy. He often uses short sentences to rack up the tension. It's a trick that works.

There were a couple of interesting decisions that he made throughout the novel. Whilst he provides his readers with a satisfying resolution to the main plot he deliberately chooses not to resolve the fate of some of the minor characters. In some senses I can understand the desire to not tie everything up too neatly, but having spent a few hundred pages in their company I suppose I would have liked just a hint of resolution. It’s a very minor gripe in an otherwise excellent novel.

I look forward to reading the fourth novel in the series by way of comparison.

"Before We Met" by Lucie Whitehouse

There has been rather a glut of thrillers with unreliable narrators recently. I guess it’s been a bit of a publishing trend. However, I found “Before we met” to be superior to many that I have read, both in structure, tone and tension. I think that this is down to Lucie Whitehouse’s skill as a writer in creating believable characters with consistent voices throughout which draw the reader into the story. I found myself unable to resist the immersion, but for me it really worked.

The premise of the novel appears to be straightforward at the outset. Having reached her mid-life without a significant other Hannah Reilly appears to have finally met the man of her dreams, in upstate New York of all places. Mark is rich, successful and single, and after a whirlwind romance they marry and relocate back to the UK where Mark’s business is based. However when Mark unexpectedly fails to return home from a business trip back to New York Hannah slowly begins to discover that all is not as it might appear on the surface. She begins to question everything that she thought she knew about her new husband, and discovers that the truth is not quite as easy to navigate or explain.

The plot is beautifully judged, without veering into ridiculous or ill-conceived set-ups. I found the novel to be a bit of a slow burner at the start. There is a lot of back story to get through (not all of which can be relied upon) and many of the early chapters explore this aspect of the story. However as a reader I found that once you get past this initial hurdle you find yourself drawn into a labyrinth of riddles and lies from which there seems to be no easy escape.

This is the first of Whitehouse’s novels that I have read, but on the strength of this I’m tempted to try her debut, The House at Midnight. In the interim I would have no hesitation in recommending this well-constructed thriller.

"The Miniaturist" by Jessie Burton

The Miniaturist is Jessie Burton's debut novel and it is, quite simply, extraordinary. I know that it has been hyped to death (as is the way of things) but to my mind it still exceeded any of my pre-conceived expectations. I am in awe of her skill in creating such a brave, daring and thoroughly entertaining tragic novel.

 

Set in Amsterdam in 1686 it charts the fall of a wealthy dysfunctional family as their dark secrets are slowly revealed. Wealthy merchant Johannes Brandt commissions a cabinet-sized replica of his wife Nella’s new marital home. However its furnishings and puppet inhabitants are created for Nella by an elusive and enigmatic miniaturist, whose tiny creations mirror the lost loves and hidden hopes of their real life counterparts.

 

Burton's cast are brilliantly drawn, particularly Marin, Johannes’ dark and intriguing sister who slowly emerged as my favourite character. Everything about the book is meticulous, from the deft plotting to the complex interwoven narrative. I found myself totally immersed in this compelling story as meals went uncooked and the dog unwalked - (I'll make it up to her!)

 

Burton's foreshadowing of the darker secrets within the household is effortlessly done, and the intrigue grows around Nella like a spider’s web. Some of the riddles can be deduced by the reader, others spill out through chance observations and fate. However every aspect appears to be known to the mysterious miniaturist who sends Nella a succession of tiny gifts, each a metaphor that echoes Nella's life yet which also appears to accurately predict her future.

 

Elliptically convoluted, the story is like a maze, with half-truths wrapped within secrets and lies. The pleasure of unravelling these enigmas is palpable; as a reader I found some easy to deduce, whilst others were more skilfully concealed.

 

One of her hardest juggling acts is managing Nella's development from wide-eyed innocent to a strident and forceful woman in charge of her own destiny. Those are difficult waters to navigate successfully, and occasionally Nella seems to vacillate between the two extremes, but to me her voice remained convincing throughout.

 

If I'm being critical I find that occasionally Jessie's writing is a little overblown; it’s as if she feels the need to create a writerly description when sometimes a more direct and simplistic passage will suffice. To be honest it's nothing that a slightly harsher editor couldn't correct. I know myself that sometimes tough love is what is needed. However when she judges it correctly the beauty of her writing shines through and it can be jaw-droppingly good. The childbirth scene had me wracked with tears and cursing her for making me cry.

 

I enjoyed the fact that not every element is neatly tied up at the end of the book. Whilst there is a satisfactory resolution to the main issues Jessie lets her readers use their own imaginations for some of the minor story arcs, a space I found welcome; although I appreciate that this may not work for everyone. It can be quite a brave move if you deliberately don’t explain everything.

 

I was reminded of the writer’s maxim: - "if you care about your characters your readers will care about the story". I was entranced, and I certainly came to care about the characters, whilst Jessie reeled me in to the story with dexterity and with her meticulous plotting. It's a rare skill.

Curtis Brown Creative - Approaching the end

It’s hard to believe that we are approaching the conclusion of the Curtis Brown Creative six-month novel writing course. The weekly sessions (every Tuesday punctuated by the occasional Wednesday) have become a central part of my life over the last six months. I’m already anticipating a keen sense of loss once it’s all over.

 

My fourteen fellow students have been so generous with their time both within the sessions and more acutely with their evenings and weekends to provide such detailed feedback on the extracts we have all submitted. Do the maths; fourteen other students, three 3,000 word extracts each, equates to 126,000 words critically evaluated. But for me this has been one of the most gratifying and supportive aspects of the course.

 

As writers I suppose we all seek validation for our writing. However, more important are the constructive criticisms, no matter how hard it may be to hear them at the time. Personally I felt a little bruised immediately after my tutorial with Anna, but once I’d had a chance to reflect on what she’d said, to process her criticism, I realised that in most cases she’d been spot-on. I will be forever indebted. Out with the red pen then!

 

The peer feedback sessions (along with those harsh but fair tutorials from Louise and Anna) have helped to shape my novel “Ilona”. I feel that it’s a radically different and greatly improved novel now from where it sat when I first submitted my extract to Anna and Rufus to apply for a place on the course. The process has helped me to slowly change “Ilona” into the novel that I originally aspired to write, rather than what I had written. It’s an important distinction.

 

I have been re-writing “Ilona” throughout the last six months, a process which is still ongoing. My issue now is trying to determine just how much further work is needed at this stage.

 

If I’m honest with myself my aims at the outset of the course were to improve “Ilona”; to make it the best novel I could possibly write, alongside the longer term aim of securing literary representation. I feel certain that most of my fellow students had similar aims.

 

My short-term aim is now to complete the current re-write, incorporating much of what I regarded as valid criticism and largely ignoring the comments that I felt were made without any innate understanding of what I was seeking to achieve.

 

That can still seem like a Sisyphean task (analogies of rolling boulders uphill can step forward) but it’s one I’m embracing. Just once in a while I’ll write something that has me punching the air both metaphorically and literally and just in that brief moment I feel it’s all been worthwhile.

 

It turns out that that the act of writing can sometimes be the best part of the whole process. No matter what happens for me in the future just occasionally the craft of writing turns out to be its own reward. Who would have known?

"Living With It" by Lizzie Enfield

"Living With It" is Lizzie Enfield's third novel and for me it represents a significant change in her writing style. Her previous two novels could be seen as clever re-workings of the themes of Brief Encounter; intelligent romances with an edgy uncertainty about the potential of infidelity. This novel has a much darker tone and, to my mind, far greater depth and emotional resonance.

Essentially it is a novel about the choices we make in life, both for ourselves and for our families, and the unforeseen consequences that can result from those decisions. Ben and Maggie are devastated to discover that their baby daughter, Iris, has become profoundly deaf after being exposed to the measles virus. Their friends Isobel and Eric feel guilty that the virus was passed on by their daughter Gabriella, particularly as Isobel had refused the MMR vaccination for her children. Ben blames Isobel for his daughter’s deafness. The situation is complicated by the fact that Isobel is the woman that Ben fell in love with at University, who eventually married his best friend, Eric. The central question is whether Ben’s decision to sue Isobel and Eric for damages is motivated by a sense of justice for his daughter or a sense of revenge for past emotional betrayals.

Enfield previously used first person narration sporadically within "Uncoupled" for the character of Anne-Marie, although I personally felt that these sections were the least engaging of that particular book. Here she has embraced first-person narration fully and completely by telling the story through alternate first person voices, those of Isobel and Ben, her main protagonists. It's a device that gives the novel a sense of immediacy and enables her to present alternate views of the same situation to great effect. The novel has an intense focus which makes it a disconcertingly uncomfortable read at times. There were moments when I felt like a voyeur observing a series of fractious arguments between strangers.

Enfield’s real skill lies in the voices that she creates for Isobel and Ben. Her ability to write from a male perspective and her innate understanding of the male psyche give the novel a raw edge, and also provides much of the gentle humour, alongside her observations of Isobel’s children. I feel certain that Lizzie’s own children probably provided much of the source material.

As a reader I did initially question whether Lizzie had made a mistake in writing a novel where the central characters are all so flawed and unlikeable. Isobel’s husband Eric is so unsupportive and downright unpleasant that I began to question why he and Isobel were still together. However as I worked through the book I began to realise that the balanced approach to Isobel and Ben means that the reader is not encouraged to “side” with either one of them. Each of them has made mistakes, and each has to learn to live with them.

I found this to be a compelling, thought-provoking and ultimately satisfying novel that bravely tackles some complex and emotive issues. I would recommend it without hesitation.

"Worldwide Adventures in Love" by Louise Wener

“Worldwide Adventures in Love” is Louise Wener’s forth novel and it is a poignant and moving reflection on love, loss and the fragility of life.

Wener’s character’s crackle with life and carry a real emotional punch. The plot is both charming and engaging as two sisters struggle to come to terms with the death of their eccentric and reclusive elderly neighbour, Edith, just as their own family begins to unravel.

Discovering Edith’s letters from the 1930’s reveal her past as an explorer and adventurer, along with the doomed love affair that shaped her life. The resonances between her past life and the fragile and chaotic disintegration of the girls’ own family provides a rich and satisfying seam that Wener exploits with consummate skill.

Wener fashions a pitch-perfect evocation of growing up in the late seventies, where the problems of modern life could be successfully resolved by the combination of a Tarzan movie and a Battenberg cake. I loved the fact that her protagonist’s sister chose a Mohawk haircut because it could be successfully self-administered, rather than having anything to do with the blossoming punk-rock scene of the Sex Pistols.

For me this was as satisfying as Wener’s debut novel, but carries far greater emotional weight and currency. She had me in tears with the ending of the novel. I found her writing brave, knowing and wise. Given that this was originally published in 2008 I hope that Wener is close to publishing her next book. It will have been worth the wait.

"The Sixth Lamentation" by William Brodrick

This intelligent novel examines the consequences of secrets and lies from the past and their emotional resonance to the present.

It follows two main narrative threads that slowly intertwine. The first concerns Father Anselm, once a barrister, now a monk, and the suspected war criminal Eduard Schwermann who claims sanctuary at Anselm’s priory. The second thread follows terminally ill Agnes Aubret who decides to reveal the secrets of her war-time exploits to her Granddaughter Lucy. Agnes had once been a member of an underground brotherhood who smuggled Jewish children to safety from occupied France until the group was exposed and betrayed by a young SS officer: Eduard Schwermann. The two parallel investigations into the shadowy events of the past begin to collide and intertwine with compelling consequences.

It is a remarkable debut novel and Brodrick deftly juggles a labyrinthine plot which is full of complex moral ambiguities. His writing is extraordinary; he moved me to tears on more than one occasion and his narrative revelations caused me to gasp aloud.

I’m now looking forward to reading his other novels. I had the opportunity to hear him speak at a Polish Crime Night at Belgravia Books in Victoria recently, organised by Magda Raczynska of The Polish Cultural Institute. William shared a platform with another of my literary heroes, Anya Lipska, author of “Where The Devil Can’t Go” and “Death Can’t Take a Joke”. William spoke eloquently about the craft of writing and the importance of truth. I rather wished that I had read The Sixth Lamentation prior to hearing him speak. Hopefully by the time I have the opportunity to hear him speak again I will have read the rest of his canon.

In the meantime I would urge you to read this wonderful, wonderful novel.

"The Galton Case" by Ross Macdonald

“The Galton Case” is the first Ross Macdonald novel I have read, but it won’t be the last. I still get a buzz from discovering an author whose work moves me. Macdonald’s work spans from the mid-forties to the early eighties, but many critics feel that this novel, originally published in 1959, marked a shift into a deeper and more complex phase.

Macdonald was often compared to Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler. Indeed his detective Lew Archer owes his name to Sam Spade’s murdered colleague Miles Archer in Hammett’s seminal work “The Maltese Falcon”. Yet Archer is a very different character to either Spade or Chandler’s Philip Marlowe. He might be as hard-boiled, yet beneath his tough exterior he somehow has more in common with a therapist that a traditional detective. In Macdonald’s hands he often makes an initial wisecrack about a character that foreshadows a much deeper truth.

“The Galton Case” is a surprisingly complex and literary detective story. Archer is hired by a dour lawyer to trace Anthony Galton, missing for over twenty years and heir to the Galton fortune, held by Anthony’s dying mother who seeks a reconciliation.  Is Anthony alive or dead and is a man claiming to be his long-lost-son real or an imposter? Archer has to pick his way through a cast of disparate characters, most of whom are not as they first appear. The plot is deliciously complicated and has more red herrings than a Baltic trawler.

This isn’t a simple “whodunit” but a beautifully layered work bout identity, greed and the power of myth. It owes as much to the Oedipus archetype, classical tragedy and Freudian analysis as it does to the tradition of Hammett and Chandler.

It also includes some powerful and timeless writing. One phrase that will stay with me for a long time occurs when Archer opens a dead man’s suitcase. “Its contents emitted a whiff of tobacco, sea water, sweat and the subtler indescribable odour of masculine loneliness.”

Definitely not your average detective novel.

Curtis Brown Creative - The Mid Point

On the Curtis Brown Creative six-month novel writing course we have been discussing the importance of the mid-point in our novels. This represents the point of no return; the point where the narrative has achieved a critical mass. With a certain symmetry I realised that we had reached the mid-point of , and personally I feel that my novel “Ilona” has also reached a critical mass. I have been re-writing the novel throughout the course using the feedback from the group to address some of the core issues.

For me the process of submitting extracts for a group critique has been one of the highlights of the course so far. The comments from our tutor Louise Wener and the other fourteen students have been supportive and encouraging. The criticism has been constructive throughout and particularly illuminating for me. I think it helps that as writers we are all facing similar challenges, yet are prepared to share insights and suggestions. The sense of support for each other has been tangible and I am very grateful. “Ilona” is slowly becoming a better novel in the process.

We have all now submitted two 3,000 word extracts and we are just about to start on the third and final round of submissions. These have provided tantalising glimpses into the various works-in-progress, rather like watching a succession of film trailers. I have found it fascinating to observe the physical writing process and the different ways that we each approach our craft.

I have been impressed by the format of the Curtis Brown course and by the excellent way it has been managed by CBC Director Anna Davis and new writing editor Rufus Purdy. The range of speakers they have organised have been superb and I particularly enjoyed Nathan Filer and his agent Sophie Lambert, and the engaging Tom Rob Smith with his agent Felicity Blunt. Both authors were very open in sharing stories of their own journeys which I found inspirational.

The quality of the teaching has been first rate with a great mix of tutors. Louise Wener’s practical and down-to-earth advice has been motivational. As a crime writer I particularly enjoyed the sessions with guest tutor Tobias Jones, and I will be forever indebted to him for introducing me to the writing of Ross Macdonald.

So as we move into the second half of the course I am excited about the ongoing work with “Ilona” and in finalising the novel ready for submission. However, in the first instance maybe my third and final 3,000 word extract needs one more polish!

Death Can't Take a Joke by Anya Lipska

Anya Lipska’s compelling sequel to “Where The Devil Can’t Go” demonstrates that she is fast building what the marketeers like to refer to as a “brand” for herself. In simple terms it means she’s a damn good writer.

The intricate plot interweaves a number of story threads, reuniting the characters of Janusz Kiska and DC Natalie Kershaw. The chemistry between Kiska and Kershaw is carefully constructed and beautifully weighted. Lipska writes the nuanced dialogue with real skill, and Kiska’s dour grumpiness provides a counterpoint to his muscular approach to detecting. He also gets some of the best dialogue, particularly when in conversation with his dodgy Polish compatriot Oskar.

The plot is complex and multi-layered, constructed with a number of false starts and dead ends so that the reader is kept guessing nearly as much as the protagonists. The denouement is both brilliantly set-up and executed, with more than a hint of Thomas Harris.

Lipska excels at creating believable minor characters with strong individual voices. I was a little disappointed that Kiska’s complicated love-interest Kasia [one time exotic dancer now running a nail-bar] didn’t get to make an appearance, apart from a brief text message. I thought she was one of Lipska’s great inventions from “Devil”, and I hope that she may return in the next book.

I was privileged enough to hear Anya speak at a Polish Crime Night a few months ago, organised by Magda Raczynska of The Polish Cultural Institute at Belgravia Books in Victoria. Anya shared a platform with another of my literary heroes William Brodrick, author of the Father Anselm books. They both spoke eloquently about their work and each performed a brief reading from their current WiP.

I am a huge fan of her writing and me this novel is even better than her debut. So many of the scenes have a cinematic sensibility, which screams movie / TV mini-series to me. I can only hope that the novel gets optioned, which it richly deserves.

Apple Tree Yard by Louise Doughty

Apple Tree Yard is a profoundly unsettling novel. It starts out as a tale of obsession and sexual passion, but quickly becomes a much darker morality tale about predators and the inherent danger that can often accompany sexual fantasies.

 

Written in the first person which gives Yvonne’s voice an immediacy and a sense of realism, her story is narrated from the dock at the Old Bailey. Doughty jumps backwards and forwards to slowly tease out the story of her protagonist’s fall from grace. As I was reading it became clear to me that in any case such as this context is everything; certainly context is one of the key factors that members of a jury need to reach an unbiased decision. Doughty has a real skill in balancing the ambiguity of context in a number of key scenes, which serves to highlight the dramatic tension within the novel.

 

I found Yvonne’s measured and precise voice perfectly encapsulated her personality, the slightly passive scientist who finds herself drawn into a web of deceit that she cannot control.

 

A fellow reader whose opinion I normally value bemoaned Yvonne’s lack of depth to me. I had to disagree. For my part I didn’t feel there was a lack of depth; I was certainly able to fill in any intentional gaps. It is true that there are many things left unresolved, left unsaid. Whilst this can be mildly irritating I can appreciate why Doughty has chosen to do this. How often in life is everything neatly and fully explained? However as a reader there were a few crucial conversations that I felt were missing, particularly between Yvonne and her husband Guy. His inability to question her about her affair struck me as unlikely, given the measured personality that Doughty had constructed for him, and so I wondered why she had made this conscious decision as a writer.

 

I thoroughly enjoyed the novel which slowly builds to its final denouement. It does not disappoint.

Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith

I found Tom Rob Smith’s debut to be a tremendous novel. It has a tortuous and labyrinthine plot which twists and weaves its way through Stalinist Russia, starting in war-torn Ukraine in the late thirties and ending in Russia in the mid-fifties. His characters are so well drawn, particularly his main protagonists Leo Demidov and his wife Raisa, along with a truly wonderful villain in Leo’s subordinate and ultimate nemesis Vassily Nikitin.

The complex plot centres around MGB agent Leo Demidov. When a colleague’s child is killed Leo is ordered to silence the family who are claiming that the child was murdered. Murder is not possible in Stalinist Russia as it would be an affront to the state ideology where the only possible crime is a crime against the state. However Leo discovers that a serial killer is murdering children and he and his wife Raisa attempt to track them down. This simple synopsis doesn’t really do justice to the intricacies of the storyline, but provides a starting point.

Smith’s story was inspired by the Russian serial killer Andrei Chikatilo who was executed for the murders of over fifty children in the 1980’s. However Smith chooses to set his novel in 1953 and provides a fascinating insight into Stalinist Russia and the changes that occurred with death of Stalin and the rise to power of Nikita Khrushchev.

Fledging writers are always told about the importance of their opening chapter. The first chapter of Child 44 is breathtaking as two starving Ukrainian children hunt an emaciated cat that they intend to kill for food. It is an object lesson in how to create an initial impact. I was completely hooked.

Smith’s writing is intense and unrelenting; he evokes the bleakness and paranoia of a totalitarian state and his research is exemplary.

The critical reaction to the novel is in itself fascinating. It seems to provoke praise and admiration from some quarters and utter vilification from others. I am firmly on the side of praise and admiration. I thought it was a stunning debut.

Die Trying by Lee Child

Having recently read “Killing Floor” I decided to read Lee Child’s second Jack Reacher novel “Die Trying”. On some levels it’s a very different proposition to the first novel.

For a start “Killing Floor” was written as a singular first person narrative. This gave it an immediacy and an individual viewpoint throughout. However, this writing discipline brings about certain restrictions. All of the action needs to be viewed through the protagonist’s eyes. Anything which occurs “out of shot” has to be eventually discovered by the protagonist to bring it into the plot.

Child has chosen to write “Die Trying” in the third person. This opens up a host of opportunities for a wider plot to take place around and beyond the immediate action involving both Reacher and a kidnapped woman claiming to be an FBI agent. The plot moves through so many complicated somersaults that the third person approach was probably the only way that Child could approach the narrative. However his skill as a writer is evident in the deft way that he handles the third person narration without losing any of the impact of his debut novel.

One key difference is that in “Killing Floor” all of the minor characters interact with Reacher and are obviously seen through his eyes. He becomes a filter for the reader. This constantly keeps him at the centre of the action. In “Die Trying” most of the minor characters do not interact with Reacher until the climax of the book; they have a life of their own, their own sphere of existence. This creates a very different dynamic to the book which is not a criticism, merely an observation.

Child is a master of pace and timing. Just like a sniper he knows when to squeeze the trigger, and he always hits his target with an uncanny accuracy.

As the action in the novel builds to a climax the set-up involves some complicated choreography. Child’s skill as a writer cuts through the complexity and makes the action clear, crisp and tense. For any budding thriller-writers it’s an object lesson in how to write within the genre. I have a feeling that I’ll be reading the other seventeen Reacher novels.

"Wake Up Happy Every Day" by Stephen May

“Wake Up Happy Every Day” is an astonishing achievement. Stephen May’s third novel centres around Nicky Fisher’s opportunistic decision to assume the identity of his dead friend Russell, and the catastrophic implications of this sudden choice. It is a brave and ambitious story which weaves together five narrative strands that slowly become connected. Often when an author attempts such a feat the potential danger is an epic fail; as a reader you only want to follow one thread and quickly become irritated by the other voices or the other stories. However May’s skill is to create an entire cast of characters that you care about, from the central protagonist and his immediate family through to even the most minor supporting character. As I was reading the novel I was trying to work out just how he achieves this, and my feeling is that it’s down to the individual voices, each distinct, yet each imbued with May’s own quirky observations. It’s quite a skill.

The novel is full of great little gems. I particularly enjoyed “I don’t understand why more people don’t embrace doubt, when it generally works so much better than the alternative.”

May’s tone is acerbic, belligerent and angry as he riffs on topics as diverse as loss, longing and cake. Indeed his views on the importance of cake in maintaining successful office dynamics struck a particular chord (probably a C# diminished!).

The plot structure is wonderfully, bizarrely left-field with an ambitious mix between first person narration and third person segments. The pace is relentless and the pages simply fly by before you can draw breath. It’s a novel that you read with a wide grin on your face, revelling in the complexity of the plot, and trying to determine just how the entire tangled mess can possibly be resolved.

Overall I found the novel daring, original and beautifully judged. I now keep recommending it to friends and feel certain I’ll be buying numerous copies to give as gifts (I’ve lost track of how many copies of “Life! Death! Prizes!” I’ve given as Birthday presents).

In the words of some marketing guru somewhere “if you only buy one book this year, make sure it’s this one”. What am I saying? If you do only buy one book this year you probably need to reassess your purchasing priorities!

The Farm by Tom Rob Smith

The Farm is a fascinating premise for a novel; two seemingly unreliable narrators who are the parents of the protagonist, Daniel. Tom Rob Smith’s skill as a writer is evident in the careful way he teases the plot threads out as Daniel’s mother Tilde uses her journal to relate a sinister tale to her son surrounding the parents retirement to a remote Swedish farm.

However nothing is what it seems. At its dark heart the novel is a study of deception and delusion, the secrets and lies that underpin the fabric of a life.

As a reader I found myself fascinated by the apparent simplicity of the set-up, but quickly felt that I could not trust anything I was being told, which I feel certain was Smith’s intention. With a tightly focused cast of characters the distinctive voices that Smith creates, particularly for Tilde and Daniel, are key to the success of the novel, and the pace is carefully crafted and structured.

Because of the unusual structure the first three quarters of the novel are told in “real time” and cover no more than a few hours as Tilde tells her tale. I found myself completely in tune with this pace, and consequently I initially struggled with the abrupt change of pace in the final quarter of the novel when Daniel visits Sweden for himself to verify the truth of Tilde’s version of events.

Smith creates a palpable sense of dislocation within the novel and a feeling of isolation which has as much to do with emotional resonance as geographic location.

I have to say that there was one particular moment in the novel which didn’t work for me, which is when Tilde produces a carved knife from her bag. My instinctive reaction was to question just how she managed to get that through airport security! Also there were a few loose ends within Tilde’s story which Smith had set up enticingly, but then didn’t fully explain, which felt a little unsatisfactory. However these are very minor gripes within what is undoubtedly a superbly written piece.

Overall I raced through the book, fascinated to reach the end and to discover whether my guesses and deductions were correct. Smith didn’t disappoint.

On the strength of this I have now decided to go back and read Smith’s debut “Child 44” which had such high praise.

The Half Life of Stars by Louise Wener

I’ve been working my way through Louise Wener’s novels and I have reached her third “The Half Life of Stars”. It’s been interesting to chart her development as a writer. In many ways her third novel is a more ambitious story than either of her first two books, although there are some thematic similarities; Claire’s search for her missing brother Daniel could almost be an echo of Audrey’s search for her missing father in The Big Blind.

However one of the most striking differences is Wener’s growing confidence with dialogue. The conversational flow in this novel is excellent, and I really enjoyed the voice that Wener gives to Claire, her main protagonist, which is spiky, awkward and belligerent. I loved the character’s ability to deal with the cruel and dismissive put-downs from her dysfunctional family, which made me root for her all the more. The plotting within the novel is also well-handled with a host of seemingly disconnected plot threads becoming slowly intertwined and eventually resolved.

The American section of the novel is particularly powerful and I loved the descriptions of the scenery, the way of life, and the acutely-observed details with which Wener weaves a rich tapestry.

The characterisation is really strong, and despite the reasonably large cast there is a clear differentiation between the various characters. I enjoyed the pace of her writing, and found that I had quickly devoured the book without being aware of the passage of time.

If I have any criticism it’s probably directed towards the epilogue which I simply found too long. Although it’s very cleverly done, my feeling is that it would have been much more powerful at a quarter of the length. Sometimes less can be more.

However overall I found this to be both readable and satisfying, which seems a good balance.

The Shock of the Fall by Nathan Filer

Authors stand or fall on their ability to create believable voices and as a reader that sense of being completely immersed in a character’s world is one of the unique joys of fiction. In “The Shock of the Fall” Nathan Filer has created a truly memorable voice for Matthew, his troubled young protagonist who sets out to relate the story of the death of Simon (his down’s syndrome brother) and to chart the ensuing legacy of his own mental health issues.

The book is essentially Matthew’s story, told in a series of flawed flashbacks and incomplete fragments of memory. The novel is part-confessional, part document, part epistle, complete with occasional line drawings and official letters. The sense of emotional connection to the main character is palpable, evoked entirely through the strength and depth of Filer’s writing. To my mind it was a worthy outright winner of the Costa Book of the Year (fully accepting the inherent limitations of that multiple-genre competition which one critic described as comparing custard to curry).

The comparison back to Mark Haddon’s “Curious Incident” is an obvious association, but they are very different in their overall approach and intent. I was struck by the uneasy feeling of suspense that Filer develops throughout the story as we slowly tease out the facts surrounding Simon’s death. His clever use of multiple viewpoints within a first-person narrative provides a resonant echo back to Matthew’s schizophrenic personality.

From the kernel of a fairly simple story Filer has managed to create a layered narrative of real depth and complexity.

I’m intrigued to see what he decides to write next.

After all, it’s a beginning.

Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

Having watched the David Fincher movie some years ago I decided to read Chuck Palahniuk’s debut novel. Although I was already familiar with the basic plot twists as represented within the movie I still found that the novel follows a fairly baffling narrative trajectory. It is dark, bitter and impossibly twisted.

 

Palahniuk’s style is minimalist in his approach. By his own admission he prefers verbs to adjectives. He reads like Charles Bukowski on speed. At times it felt as though he had possibly written a conventional first draft and then edited it with a chainsaw, paring it back to the barest minimum of words that would still convey the essence of the piece. For me this works in parts, but it does not make for a comfortable read. I felt that I needed all my concentration just to stay with it.

 

The novel is written as a succession of random scenes from a violent nightmare world which spirals inexorably towards an almost apocalyptic conclusion. I found Palahniuk’s fascination with the macabre and repulsive to be in turn both relentless and deeply unsettling.

 

Is it absorbing? Yes.

 

Is it disturbing? Yes.

 

Is it enjoyable? For me, no; not in any sense. It simply grips you by the throat and demands that you keep reading until you reach the end.

 

Can I sleep now?

The Big Blind by Louise Wener

Louise Wener’s second novel is a real departure from her debut outing. In “The Big Blind” she creates a believable and realistic protagonist in Audrey Ungar, a thirty-something maths tutor with slight OCD tendencies, who discovers that she shares her absent father’s obsession with poker. With the help of an obese and reclusive card sharp called Big Louie she sets out on a quest to track down and confront her missing father.

Wener has a finely honed comedic eye (and ear) and her characters crackle with life. As a reader you feel a real sense of identification with the cast, and her characterisations are witty without descending into caricature. Big Louie is really well written, and Wener creates a fine balance between his manic compulsions and the sense of menace that starts to surround Audrey.

The plotting of this book is stronger than her debut novel, and she also managed to make me cry at the final denouement.

I have never been a card player, and therefore have never truly understood the fascination with poker. However Wener succeeds in making the game sound mesmeric, even to a complete novice like me. Now, I just need to go and practice my mechanic’s deal.

Curtis Brown Creative - 1

I have been fortunate enough to secure a place on The Curtis Brown Creative Six-month Novel Writing Course, co-tutored by Louise Wener and Anna Davis. I thought that it would be a good discipline to try and post a regular blog as the course progresses to share my feelings about the experience.

I would stress at the outset that this endeavour might yet prove to be fraught with difficulties. Writing any form of blog whilst working within a group setting immediately raises a few issues about openness and honesty. I therefore have to state that this will be an entirely personal view of my experiences and I will do my utmost to be positive and respectful throughout.

The course includes fifteen authors writing across a wide range of genres and each at different stages within the writing process. Some have largely completed their current works-in-progress whilst others are just setting out on the journey. The thing that struck me about the group as a whole was the shared sense of passion about the writing process, and the professionalism that each author appeared to bring to the table [apart from the table itself, which is currently missing from the Curtis Brown boardroom!].

For me it was quite a daunting first evening as we went round the group, each conducting a very brief pitch of our novels. So many strong ideas. So clearly presented. My carefully rehearsed pitch went completely awry. Lesson number one – better preparation.

Even at this early stage there seems to be a real sense of camaraderie amongst the group. The second session included a critique of the opening chapters from the unlucky three members who were selected for this dubious privilege. However I was delighted that the feedback around the group to Brad, Amy and Anna was so positive. The criticisms when due were presented in a supportive and constructive fashion. It made me feel slightly less nervous about presenting my own opening chapter.

Last night’s session was a visit by ex-CBC student Sarah Sykes accompanied by her CB agent Gordon Wise. Gordon had sold Sarah’s debut novel “Plagueland” to Hodder and Stoughton and it will be published in the autumn. I thought that it was a stroke of genius to have the first visiting session being an ex-student who had recently gone through so many of the struggles that we are all currently grappling with as fledgling writers. I found Sarah inspirational, practical and realistic. Gordon was also an excellent speaker and he gave an eloquent account of hearing Sarah’s first reading and being captivated by her novel. Rufus also did a great job of chairing the evening and teasing out some great stories from the two guests.

So overall my first impressions of the course have been overwhelmingly positive. Both Louise and Anna seem well-prepared and enthusiastic, and I am looking forward to my first tutorial with Louise in a few weeks’ time.  I will aim to post a further blog after that tutorial to see whether I still feel as positive and inspired!

Killing Floor by Lee Child

I have been reading a number of debut novels recently. Having never read any of Lee Childs’ Jack Reacher novels I thought I would start with his debut, “Killing Floor”. I really enjoyed the book, which stormed along at a tremendous pace, introducing the reader to Jack Reacher, ex-military investigator and action hero.

Child writes in short, sharp clipped sentences. A staccato style, but one which aptly suits Reacher. The resultant effect is suitably hard-boiled; taut and sparse, like a modern-day Mickey Spillane (with Reacher cast as Mike Hammer).

Whilst the plotting was carefully constructed I felt that the plot relied on a number of coincidences which didn’t quite ring true, but then again the veil of reality needs so often needs to be suspended in novels of this type. A word of warning; the book is very violent at times, and to my mind the body-count is somewhat gratuitous. The overly graphic descriptions (often involving fingers plunging into eye-sockets) seem to be to the detriment of the novel; for me sometimes less can be more.

Lee Child is actually the pen-name of Coventry-born Jim Grant.  Given Grant’s background and career progression he has done a remarkable job of re-inventing himself as a hard-boiled exponent of pulp fiction, in the most positive and least pejorative expression of the genre. In the seventeen years between 1997 and 2014 he has written a remarkable nineteen novels, which is a phenomenal work-rate. I look forward to reading a few more of his novels to see how he develops the character of Reacher.

"Left and Leaving" by Jo Verity

“Left and Leaving” is Jo Verity’s fifth novel and to my mind it’s her best yet. It is beautifully written in an almost conversational style which feels entirely appropriate to the story. I normally prefer sparser prose, yet this seemed to have a natural rhythm and flow, with perceptive observations of how people react to life events.

Her two main protagonists, Gil and Vivian, are sharply drawn and the voices she creates for them are realistic and natural. At times I felt more of a voyeur than a reader, which I think is a testament to Verity’s skill as a writer.

I was fortunate enough to have Jo as a guest reader on the Arvon course that I attended back in 2012, co-tutored by the inspirational Stephen May and the enthusiastic Lizzie Enfield. Jo read us the early chapters of “Left and Leaving”, which was her work-in-progress at that stage (although my memory tells me that she might have added a new opening chapter since that reading). She reads her work well and the characters of Gil and Vivian stayed with me over the last two years to the point that reading the novel felt almost like catching up with old friends.

Verity quickly establishes a believable set of dilemmas for her main characters and cleverly avoids shifting the focus too far away from them, using her supporting characters to craft a nuanced background to the main narrative. I particularly liked the character of Vivian’s father, Philip Carey; irascible, irritating yet perfectly delineated.

Without revealing any spoilers the ending was as unexpected as it was refreshing; again displaying a lightness of touch that I could appreciate with recognition of the great restraint that it must have taken not to over-write. Overall I found the novel to be both rewarding and inspiring and I would recommend it unreservedly.

Goodnight Steve McQueen by Louise Wener

I have been reading a number of first novels recently and decided to read Louise Wener’s debut, “Goodnight, Steve McQueen” even though it dates back to 2002. I am so glad that I did; I think I enjoyed it more than any other novel I’ve read over the past year.

The quality of the writing is outstanding, and Wener skilfully creates a really entertaining set of characters with distinctive voices. She writes in the first person through the eyes of Danny McQueen, a 29 year old who has spent his life dreaming of rock stardom. He is given an ultimatum by his long-suffering girlfriend; make something of his life by the end of the year or find a new girlfriend.

The novel has been compared to Nick Hornby’s “High Fidelity” and to my mind that’s a reasonable parallel. Wener has a similar ear for both for dialogue and for comedy, and I read the book in virtually a single sitting with a huge grin on my face.

I particularly liked Wener’s minor characters, such as Danny’s bandmate Vince and his obsessions with Kevin Rowland and finding the perfect transitional shoe. Matty the drummer is another beautifully observed portrait, painfully accurate and stopping just short of caricature.

In reading various reviews of the book I was astonished by the amount of bile and bitterness aimed at Wener, which on the strength of this debut seems completely unfair. Even the endorsement section at the front of the paperback edition starts with a quote from The Scotsman “She can actually write”, which is pretty demeaning. If anyone wants proof of the power of her writing they should read “What’s wrong with being a mother?” a piece that she wrote for The Guardian in 2006 which moved me to tears.

The Dinner by Anna Davis

I have been reading a number of debut novels recently. Although “The Dinner” was originally published back in 1999 I found Anna Davis’s debut to be an acerbic treat. The events of the novel take place during the course [or courses] of one suburban dinner-party, which slowly and spectacularly descends into a surreal nightmare reminiscent of a Hieronymus Bosch painting.

The four couples at the dinner party each have a host of dark secrets which slowly surface, as they try to deal with an unbalanced and unexpected ninth guest whose unsettling presence triggers the unravelling of their respective lives.

I was impressed by the way that Davis handles her cast and creates sufficient differentiation between the characters to enable the reader to mentally hold them without confusing the couples and their personalities. Davis’s writing is at times as precise as a surgeon’s blade, and she creates painfully accurate portraits of her unlikeable cast with their competitive point-scoring and manipulative strategies.

As I was reading I kept sensing a number of resonances. The first was Mike Leigh’s 1977 play “Abigail’s Party” with the wonderful Alison Steadman. This painful study of middle-class manners kept echoing through my head as Davis slowly unfolded her plot. The other resonance was an obscure Danish film called “Babette’s Feast” written and directed by Gabriel Axel from a story by Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen). The vivid descriptions of the food that Davis creates reminded me of the banquet sequence in the movie, particularly in the clever use of colour imagery.

Davis has created a cast of unlovable characters, and one of my problems with the early part of the novel was the lack of empathy that I felt towards any of the main nine characters. However I think it is a testament to her skill as a writer that by the end of the novel I felt far more sympathy with each of the characters; they may still have been horrible people, yet I found myself hoping for some sense of redemption for each of them.

The tightly focused time-frame of the book creates a wonderfully compressed sense of tension, which Davis alleviates with some deft flashbacks to balance the metronomic chronology.

As a debut novel this is an extraordinarily accomplished piece of work. However if I were the author I would have been incensed by the publishers including a quote on the book jacket from Attitude Magazine: “A stunning off-the-shoulder debut in suicide red”, which seems to me to be a spoiler of monumental proportions.

"The SilentWife" by A.S.A. Harrison

Susan Harrison’s debut novel is a stunning achievement. Her story is told in alternate viewpoints between the two main protagonists, who are both damaged products of their environment and upbringing. Her focus is firmly upon character and motivation, analysing the psychology of each party and trying to determine their impulses and motives.

In some senses it’s difficult to achieve a critical distance from the book knowing that Harrison died shortly before publication. Any criticism, however minor, sounds like ill-will, given that she cannot defend herself. However, to my mind in some instances the book felt just a little over-written; with the psychological discursions obscuring the plot rather than advancing it, but perhaps this had been her intention.

She herself described the work as “a study of two people at the limits of their ability to cope”, and for me where the novel works best is documenting the discreet retaliations that Jodi employs to keep the grievances in check that she feels towards her philandering partner. I particularly enjoyed the way that Harrison chose to make the two main characters fairly passive in their approach, with neither being particularly likeable at times, hence the title of the novel.

Many reviewers seem to want to compare the novel to Gillian Flynn’s “Gone Girl” but to me that seems a lazy comparison. The two books are fundamentally very different, and this felt darker, more calculated, somehow more real. The real loss is Harrison herself, and as a reader I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness that this powerful debut will also need to serve as her epitaph.

"Doctor Sleep" by Stephen King

I haven’t posted any reviews on my blog for quite a while as I have been working hard on my debut novel, “Ilona”. I’ve still been constantly reading throughout this time, but I thought it was high time that I started up the blog post again [New Year resolutions etc.].

I re-read “The Shining” late last year and found that it was even better than I remembered. It was one of the books that first made me want to write, along with Alan Garner’s The Owl Service and Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”. I initially read “The Shining” back in 1978 when it was first released in paperback. I had pre-ordered it from Webster’s Bookshop in Dorking, having already devoured both “Carrie” and “Salem’s Lot”, and I was so excited to get my hands on a copy on its release. I read it the weekend I got it, finishing it breathless and exhausted in the middle of the night.

To me it was just the perfect novel and I was so disappointed when I saw the Kubrick movie which seemed to lose the essence of King’s intent that Jack Torrance was essentially a good man tormented by inner demons. Jack Nicholson was great in the film but seemed too dark and unhinged from the outset. However I felt that King’s story-telling had reached its peak with Danny, particularly his ability to make you feel the fear through a child’s eyes.  His minor characters were well-written too, particularly Wendy Torrance, Dick Halloran and even Lloyd the bartender.

So I had mixed feelings when I initially picked up “Doctor Sleep”, the first being why revisit something that was about as close to perfect as you could get? When I first started reading the novel it took me a while to re-adjust to Danny as an adult, and initially I found the scenes with the True  Knot a bit gratuitously violent, if I’m honest. However, I think I was wrong. I should learn to trust him.

As usual by about half-way through King had me gripped by the throat, and the pages flew by as I became absorbed in the story. I was transported back to how I felt when I first read “The Stand” and “It”…immersed in his imagination. In “Doctor Sleep” King has fleshed out an utterly convincing cast of characters, from the main protagonists to the minor supporting roles. If I’m being particularly critical I personally would have welcomed more page space being devoted to a few of the supporting characters, particularly Snakebite Andi and The Crow. However, tonally King creates a balanced blend between the warmth of the protagonists and the death-rattling chill of the enemy, the True Knot.

Many reviewers seem to want to compare the novel back to “The Shining” which I suppose is an obvious but ultimately lazy comparison. They are totally different books, written as King himself acknowledges in his Afterword at totally different points in the arc of his career. To my mind “Doctor Sleep” is a far more thoughtful book which worms its way into your psyche rather than going for the proverbial jugular.

In King’s universe things have a way of unravelling, often spectacularly and nearly always with raw and savage consequences. Without revealing any spoilers the final unravelling of the True Knot involves delicious twists and snarls and King delivers a fierce and final sense of closure.

So is it a story worth revisiting? You bet. As Roger Waters once said:- “Shine on….”