Category: Book Club

Coming Attractions

So, here’s the deal: I’m writing another novel.

Now, you might be thinking: why? (If you’ve read Archer & Bell and Gresham Park, I hope that’s not your first thought, but I digress.) And the answer to that is simple: because I’m the kind of masochist who enjoys spending innumerable hours of precious free time engaged in a frustrating and entirely uncompensated endeavor. Well, maybe not entirely uncompensated; I do get the satisfaction of calling myself a writer, and of knowing that occasionally, another person is reading the very words that came out of my brain. That is super cool.

Which brings me to the point of this post.

As a self-published author, the most frustrating experience is the feeling that your work is getting lost in a sea of other books, waiting to find its audience – which may never actually materialize. Amazon is a great platform for getting your stuff out there, but maybe not so great for building an audience out of thin air. On the other hand, this blog has an audience … the problem being, it’s not necessarily an audience that’s interested in (a) books, and (b) my books. I know some of you are book lovers, but that’s obviously not what brought you here in the first place. So I have been reluctant to rely too much on the blog as a platform for spreading the word about my writing, especially in a monetized context. And then, I had an idea.

What if, instead of going the same old Amazon publishing route for my new novel, I publish it here – in a free, weekly serial format? Of course, I need to figure out how to actually do that, but I trust that my crack IT team (aka dear husband) will be able to make it happen. So I’m asking you (and especially those of you who have bought my previous books): would you be interested in something like that? The formatting of each chapter is likely to be less fancy than the e-copy that would be available on Amazon, and you’d be getting the story in pieces. On the plus side, it will be free, and I promise to keep the blog business as usual otherwise. Tell me all your thoughts, gently if you please.

To help you decide, if you’re on the fence about the whole idea, here’s a little taste of what you can expect to read (most likely starting in August):

London, 1948 – in a world not entirely unlike this one …

When Kate Seever finds herself unexpectedly out of a job, she loses no time in looking for other employment. For a young woman in Kate’s position – unmarried and not independently wealthy – it is a practical necessity. But for a young woman of Kate’s disposition, it is also an opportunity. Despite an unwavering belief in the supremacy of reason and order, she harbours a secret – and not so rational – penchant for the sort of adventure apt to turn a person’s life upside down. The position of governess at Ushant Hall – a ruinous pile in the middle of a bleak, windswept moor, miles away from London – does not seem promising but, to her friends’ consternation, Kate decides that it is precisely the sort of challenge she enjoys tackling. Besides, it is merely a temporary engagement; what could possible go wrong in three months?

The answer, it turns out, is plenty. At Ushant Hall, the ancient seat of the reclusive Blackthorne family, Kate quickly discovers that she may have gotten more than she’d bargained for; it will take a rigorous exercise of her wits to manage the peculiar inhabitants of the house, including the strangely antagonistic caretaker, the taciturn groundskeeper, and the preternaturally precocious pupil she had been hired to instruct. Most of all, it is the master of Ushant Hall himself – the aloof, haughty, distractingly handsome Rufus Blackthorne – who proves to be the most difficult challenge of all. And then, of course, there is the question that no one seems to want to answer: just what, exactly, is hidden in the attic?

Obviously, if there is minimal interest in a weekly serial, I probably won’t go to the trouble of trying to set up a corner of the blog to accommodate it, and we’ll just pretend this whole conversation never happened. But if you are even a little bit intrigued, let me know and let’s make it happen!

BCRL Book Club: The Cuckoo’s Calling

I have a deep fondness for mystery novels written by English writers, many of them female. It goes all the way back to Agatha Christie, and counts Dorothy Sayers, Georgette Heyer, Josephine Tey, Ngaio Marsh (a New Zealander, but part of the Commonwealth nonetheless), Ruth Rendell, Anne Perry, Lynda LaPlante, Minette Walters, and P.D. James among my favourites. (Along with Arthur Conan Doyle, GK Chesterton, Colin Dexter, and Michael Dibdin, among many others. I love mystery novels a lot, OK?) There is something about English mysteries – even the modern, police procedural ones – that I enjoy more than other crime-related sub-genres. Which is a long way of saying that a book like The Cuckoo’s Calling has a better than average chance of being a hit for me.

And I did enjoy it – quite a lot, in fact. I’m not quite ready to assign Robert Galbraith/JK Rowling to the ranks of my fave mystery writers, but only because I want to read the other books in the Cormoran Strike series and see how things pan out. So far, so good. [Edited to add: I have since QUICKLY devoured The Silkworm and Career of Evil and I can say that I’m definitely a fan. The Cuckoo’s Calling, though by NO means terrible, was the weakest of the three, which is saying a lot because I enjoyed it a great deal. I am definitely pumped for the next Strike novel.] I don’t propose to recap the plot of the book, since that’s easy enough for you guys to find elsewhere, so I’m going to jump straight into what I liked and what I didn’t like about the book.

What I Liked

First and foremost, I liked that Strike was a regular bloke rather than a textbook “hero” with various special attributes that placed him head and above the other characters; plus, all of his interactions and reactions felt very realistic to me. For example, Strike was careful not to cross any boundaries with Robin, but his internal monologue acknowledged that he found her attractive. That struck me as a very … plausible and sensible thing. Ditto that Robin didn’t immediately go mooney-eyed over Strike. I can’t explain it, but I enjoyed the “ordinariness” of the main characters and their working relationship.

With that said, I spent the entire book imagining Strike to look like Rufus Sewell, because I read the book just after I finished watching the BBC series Zen, and had that image burned in my brain. (I highly recommend Zen, by the way. The Michael Dibdin Aurelio Zen books are also good, although there is, at best, a tenuous connection between the show and the books. I am not complaining because it means that you get double the fun – you get alternative takes on the same premise.) Strike is probably not supposed to be that good-looking, but whatever … reader’s license, right? [Edited to add, again: on further reflection, maybe Strike is supposed to be THAT good-looking. He seems to get a lot of, ahem, action and/or interest from various beautiful women in these books. It usually annoys me when every attractive female character throws herself at the detective, regardless of how down-on-his-luck/looks he is supposed to be — ahem, Bernie Gunther, I am looking at you — but I am willing to give Strike a pass on this one … for now.]

Getting back to the point, I also enjoyed the fact that Strike’s and Robin’s relationship stayed platonic. I have a sense that Galbraith/Rowling won’t be able to resist mucking with their relationship in some way in the future, and I’m sort of dreading it, but … we shall see. I would love it if they remained friends and co-workers, but nothing else – although I do hope that Robin ditches her stupid fiancé. [Edited to add, for the last time: I have THOUGHTS on the developments in Career of Evil but I will keep them to myself so I don’t spoil the book for anyone who hasn’t read it. But … hmmm. Hmmm, I say!]

I thought the pace of the book was very good and the central mystery very engaging. I basically raced through the last 1/3 of the book, and stayed up way past my bedtime to finish it. With that said …

What I Didn’t Like

… the whodunit part was actually weak, in my opinion. The set-up for the crime – from the scene to the supporting characters and cast of suspects – was excellent, but the pay-off was a letdown because I found the final confrontation between the murderer and the victim (as revealed after the fact) to be kind of unconvincing. I don’t quite know why, but it just seemed … off to me. Weak sauce.

I hated the sub-plot involving Strike’s ex-girlfriend. I hate the “crazy woman” trope, and this particular character was like a Manic Dream Pixie Girl gone wrong. The whole character and her backstory just seemed implausible, and it struck a false note given how realistic both Strike and Robin were written. I hope she is not heard from again … fingers crossed.

Your turn: What did you like and what didn’t you like about The Cuckoo’s Calling? What’s your favourite type of literary detective – do you like the cerebral geniuses, the men of action, or the regular blokes? How do you feel about romances between detective duos?

But don’t go yet, because it’s time for May’s BCRL Book Club Selection. This month, I decided to go in a completely different direction again … with a classic Regency romance by a cult favourite. Drum roll, please:

FREDERICA by Georgette Heyer

It was hard to narrow down which Heyer novel to pick, because she wrote a lot of them, and many are considered classics in the genre. I can’t remember if I’ve already ready this one, but the jacket description sounded intriguing so here’s hoping. And if you’re still hankering for some English mysteries, do try Heyer’s own brand. They are of a similar vintage with Agatha Christie’s whodunnits, but a lot sassier/more tongue-in-cheek. Don’t forget to check back on Friday, May 27 for the next book club discussion, and in the meantime, if you have other reading recommendations to share, drop them in the comments!

BCRL Book Club: Cold Comfort Farm

Here’s this month’s book club confession: I’m not much of a Bronte fan. Sacrilege, I know. I can say I’ve read Jane Eyre only in a general sense (mostly the beginning and the end, a few times), and I strongly disliked Wuthering Heights when I read it twenty years ago — enough to never wish to revisit it. As for the rest of the Bronte sisters’ oeuvre, I am familiar with it in name only, which is kind of inevitable for anyone who loves 19th century lit (which I do). Now, with all that said, Cold Comfort Farm — which gives more than a passing nod to the Brontes — was and is a delight to read. I’ve always been a fan of writers who keep their tongue firmly in cheek, so that’s probably why I appreciate Stella Gibbons’ classic comic gem.

Now, if you’ve read along this month, you will know that Cold Comfort Farm also owes a huge debt of inspiration to Jane Austen’s Emma … coincidentally, one of my least favourite Austen heroines. (Although I have a soft spot for her incarnation as Cher Horowitz.) Even as a teen, I found Emma’s interfering ways incredibly annoying, and the older I get, the less patience I have for them. God bless Mr. Knightley. Anyway, transposed to the gothic background of Cold Comfort Farm, the antics seem less pesky, mostly because the Starkadders do legitimately need some sorting out. More on that in a moment. There is a variety of romantic sub-plots to the story, but they’re not really the focus and are all rather perfunctory. The genius of the book lies in the descriptions of each of the (secondary) characters and their respective manias — they’re described to great comic effect but without cruelty, in a way that makes you want to root for each of the characters and their individual happiness. Which is why, in the end, Flora Poste is more likeable (to me) than Emma — she manages to steer everyone to their Happily Ever After (not necessarily with a partner, although there is at least one big wedding).

What I loved

The premise and the entire cast of characters is perfect, especially as a gentle parody of a certain kind of literature. (To be clear, I don’t think Gibbons set out to parody the Brontes, Austen, etc., but rather their subsequent copycats). I loved Flora’s rapport with Mrs. Smiling, and her overall level-headedness. I also appreciated the general absence of slut-shaming, which struck me as particularly refreshing for the era in which Gibbons was writing.

The other thing I loved was the fact that the book is the reason why the delightful 1994 movie adaptation exists. I know, that’s a bit of a cheat … but I do love the movie so much. I’m not a Kate Beckinsale fan, but she was very good as Flora, and the other performances are bang on as well. (Well, Jeremy Northam should have played Charles but I can deal.) I mean, Bang. On:

um, hello
um, hello

If you haven’t seen the movie yet, do yourself a favour and rectify the oversight 😉

And of course, my absolute favourite part was the exchange between Aunt Ada and Mr. Neck:

Ada: I saw something nasty in the woodshed!
Mr. Neck: Yeah, baby, but did it see you?

(Note: that version comes from the movie, which I think adds an extra kick to the original dialogue — at least as it appears in my copy of the book. YMMV.)

Book club question 1: who were your favourite characters/plot points?

Book club question 2: the book is set in some unspecified future time. Do you feel that influenced the story in any way? Why do you think Gibbons chose to set it in the future?

What I didn’t like

I have only a few small quibbles. I found the Starkadders’ dialect difficult to follow on paper. (It wasn’t nearly as thick in the movie version.) I’m sure that was a deliberate stylistic choice on Gibbons’ part but it did take me out of the story at times. Also, as much as I liked Flora’s maturity, it did strike me as unrealistic for a young woman of 19 or 20. Moreover, she never made mistakes and her plans never went astray. From a psychological perspective, it made her a less plausible character than Emma, for example. I know this was supposed to be a comic novel (all the characters are stereotypes, really) but I felt like Flora’s implausible perfection veered too far into Mary Sue territory at times … and, yet, at other times, it was just right. I don’t know, I guess I’m conflicted.

Finally, the denouement between Flora and Charles seemed rather rushed and unsatisfying/not true to type (same goes for the movie).

Book club question 3: what did you like least about the book?

Book club question 4: were you disappointed that we never got to find out what nasty thing Ada saw in the shed?

OK, your turn! Please keep in mind that my suggested questions are simply that, so feel free to chat in the comments about anything you would like that’s Cold Comfort Farm-related (especially if it involves the perfection of Rufus Sewell’s cheekbones).

Next month’s book club selection is a new read for me, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about it (and the series that it kicks off), and as a dyed-in-the-wool mystery novel lover (with a weakness for British authors of the same), I’m very excited about … drum roll, please:

The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith

Please join me on Friday, April 29, for the book club discussion. In the meantime, happy reading!