Book Review: A Boy And A Bear In A Boat by Dave Shelton

http://daveshelton.com/

Of all the Carnegie shortlisted books, A Boy and A Bear in a Boat is the one aimed at the youngest audience. It is a deceptively simple tale and the nuts and bolts of the plot are pretty much covered by the title. It’s the sort of book that reviewers would say raises a smile, call ‘charming’ or ‘quirky’ and then not even contemplate garlanding with the highest accolades. Yet there is more to Dave Shelton’s tale than this. As young an audience as this is aimed at, it is arguably the most philosophical and unpretentiously wise of the books on this year’s shortlist.

No, I haven’t gone off my rocker I assure you. The reason this works so well is because it is truly unique in being so unconventional, yet warm, gentle and engaging with it. The novel is essentially a two hander between its titular characters, but names are never revealed. The bear is a masterpiece of deadpan surrealism: depicted in such mundane, humanist terms that not once does it at all seem unusual he’s a talking bear, never mind rowing a boat. Where are they supposed to be sailing to? Hardly seems to matter: the boy simply asks to be taken to the ‘other side’ when he gets on board…

This isn’t quite Waiting for Godot. Stuff does happen as they sail across the ocean blue. But, for me, the incidents in themselves are very much of secondary importance, dramatic as some of them seem to be. What is most important is their experiences, shared (they’re together on a boat in an endless stretch of sea) or otherwise (they both react to this in rather different ways). The setting is key, but only in so far as it allows the book to explore just exactly what life is, what it means and how we should live it.

I apologise if that sounds trite, but these are issues that philosophers grapple with, and this is very much a philosophical novel. And yes, it is one for both its intended audience and readers in general to appreciate. Trust me: read it and all will become clear. In wilfully jettisoning plotting conventions, yet weaving a compelling tale all the same, this book succeeds in having a strong head and a sturdy heart. To not put too fine a point on it, Shelton has achieved something rather remarkable.

Book Review: Wonder by RJ Palacio

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http://rjpalacio.com/

“I won’t describe what I look like. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably worse.”

Unless you’ve got a strong aversion to book shops and/or libraries, and if you have then why on earth are you even reading this blog, chances are you’ll have heard of RJ Palacio’s Wonder. It’s almost as likely that you’ll be familiar with the quote above as well. Yes, Wonder is the story of a ten year old boy, August Pullman, with a severely disfigured face. Up until now he’s been sheltered and home schooled by his loving parents, and fiercely protected by his older sister Via. But now he’s being sent to school proper, thus opening himself up to the real world and the harsh realities endured by those forever destined to not fit in.

In many ways, Wonder is a commendable novel. The human brain and society program us to deem certain forms more aesthetically pleasing than others. This is why the themes of books like Wonder are important in getting us to reassess those values. As far as the story itself goes, the best thing for me is that August’s story isn’t told solely from his perspective. If it had been, it could very easily have become a solipsistic misery memoir, but in examining the impact August has on those around him, Palacio deftly makes the point that it’s not only the disfigured themselves on the emotional rollercoaster. The first person narrative is also easy to read, and the characters are well-rounded and not mere vessels for Palacio’s ‘message’, making for a compelling enough tale.

For me, though, Wonder is a good (very good even) but not a great novel. There’s nothing wrong with it not being the first story to deal with this particular issue, but it doesn’t fly so high that it transcends genre considerations and claim itself to be the best book you’ll read this year. The writing style, whilst it flows well, is more competent than outstanding. In fact, another of its strengths is a weakness at the same time, unfortunately: a couple of the narrative voices ring a bit false, or just don’t work as well as some of the stronger ones. Finally, without wanting to give anything away, a lot of what you think is going to happen in the course of the story does happen. The ending, in particular, is crashingly predictable. But even though you’ll see it coming from a mile off, you’ll probably have a tear in your eye all the same…

This is a book written with the noblest of intentions, and its appeal looks set to be enormous: authors as diverse as Malorie Blackman and Nicholas Sparkes have sung its praises. But I find myself finding it powerful, uplifting and narratively clever, yet frustrating, occasionally flat and a bit obvious at the same time. It’s these odd paradoxes that arguably make Palacio’s laudable but flawed book something of a ‘wonder’ in itself.

Snooty Chucklechunks

Now, I'm a YA writer, so the sort of stuff I normally write about are the things teenagers are interested in. Someone once suggested I was appealing to the Skins demographic, which is something of a compliment I suppose (as long as Skins was good anyway, which was pretty much the first generation of characters really). So yes, in short, I write about violence, bad language, sex and kids putting drugs in each other's faces (OK, not the last one). Despite being a school librarian.

Hey, dark and edgy is good and it's what they want to read, believe me!

But anyway, sometimes writing hard hitting stuff can be emotionally draining, so I've been toying with something for younger readers. It has the provisional title of 'The Adventures of Snooty Chucklechunks', and the titular Snooty owns a pet chimpanzee who pays all his bills for him, in a nod to the classic Clint Eastwood film Every Which Way But Loose.

That's about as far as I've got. What does Snooty look like? Maybe something like this:

(Image courtesy of Eva Rinaldi)

Well OK not really, that's actually a waxwork model of Alf 'Flamin' Hoon' Stewart from Home and Away. I just felt like putting it on here. No Snooty is most likely going to be a bit younger, and considerably more weird looking. Perhaps a cross between Steve Buscemi and Bungle from Rainbow.

On Twitter, I asked for some help in coming up with some names for friends/adversaries of Snooty. I had in mind Ingrid Dribblethwit, whilst someone suggested Puffy Thimblecheeks. Perhaps you'd like to venture some suitably ridiculous names in the comments below?

I'm working on my usual gritty YA stuff for the most part, but messing around with this has been some fun light relief. A timely reminder not to get too bogged down in one particular project: if you're a writer you should try it, it's good for your health! 

Book Review - In Darkness by Nick Lake

 

 

http://www.in-darkness.org/

 

 

In Darkness is the tale of a Haitian teen, Shorty, who is trapped in the literal darkness of post-earthquake rubble. Shorty has a bullet in his arm and demons in his belly. Devastated by the loss of his twin sister, who was taken from him by gangsters seven years ago, his desire for answers and revenge has propelled him in to the very gang culture which ripped a hole through his life. Thus begins his confessional story.

Nick Lake’s novel also tells the story of Touissant Louverture, leader of the Haitian Slave Revolt and architect of the nation’s eventual independence. Alternating with Shorty’s narrative, Touissant’s half of the story does not attempt to be a comprehensive account of his life, instead focusing on his role in the revolt itself, and how his tactical nous, both in military and diplomatic matters, ensured the Haitians prevailed. But it’s far from plain sailing for him either…

The parallels between the two narratives are mostly implicit (with one or two glaringly obvious exceptions), and all the better for that. For Nick Lake’s novel is very much Literary with a capital L. It has all the page turning suspense and action you’d expect from a young adult novel, but make no mistake that this is a novel of ideas: any novel which discusses the great romantic/political philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau is going to be. Themes of slavery and social division obviously lend In Darkness a distinctly political slant. Its thoughtful meditation on ethical values, and whether these are determined by one’s cultural framework, gives it an emotional core too.

How widely appealing Lake’s novel will be remains to be seen. Expletives spatter Shorty’s narrative; violence is regular and unflinching in both, though, again, more graphic in 21^st Century Haiti. The split narrative works well, for me, but I’m not sure if the same could be said for a teenage audience. The vivid immediacy of Shorty’s first person narrative might be more readily appealing than the close third person of Touissant’s. Whilst the themes overlap, Touissant’s story is essentially a historical novel, in contrast to the contemporary concerns of Shorty’s. How well a young person responds to this could well depend on the extent to which they can join the thematic dots. Patrick Ness believes there are plenty who would be able to; let's hope he's right.

In Darkness is well written, brutally told and thematically worthy. Carnegie tends to like at least one politically charged, global ‘issues’ novel on its shortlist (last year’s was Andy Mulligan’s Trash), not to mention historical fiction (2012 saw both The Midnight Zoo and Between Shades of Grey shortlisted). But Lake’s novel stands up well enough in its own right to shrug off any suggestions of tokenism. Nevertheless, looking at this year’s shortlist, I would suggest it’s an outside bet to bag the gong.



Book Review - Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner

 

 

 

http://maggotmoon.com/

 

 

 

Now here's an interesting thing: a dystopian novel that's actually (a) original, (b) well-written and (c) thought provoking. The theory goes, you see, that dystopia is so 'in' among teenagers right now because of the highly uncertain future they face. Dystopian novels strike a chord and articulate their fears, conscious or otherwise. Subsequently, there's been a real glut of dystopia in recent years. Sad to say, that can leave one feeling cold: too many deal with thought provoking themes in a rather glib and token way, instead choosing to layer on straightforward action and suspense.

 

In not very many words or pages, Maggot Moon succeeds in being a glorious exception to the general rule. Rather than being set in the future, it is set in an alternative 'what if' past, in which Britain as we know it today is a subjugated, satellite state of an unseen 'Motherland'. The Motherland is preparing to give it's rivals a show of strength by landing on the moon; what main character Standish and his friend Hector discover, though, is that said landing is to be faked. Defying the inherent dangers involved, Standish decides he has to do something about it...

 

The novel is told from the wonderfully idiosyncratic point of view of Standish. He makes an unlikely hero: a bit reminiscent of Robert Graves' Claudius, in the sense that everyone has him down as an idiot, but he's unfortunately not quite able to disguise his keen ability to see things as they really are as successfully. Some of his narrative tics can be annoying (e.g. "frick-fracking hell"), but he is mostly easy to root for. Gardner keeps things pacy with very short chapters, and the suspense becomes almost unbearable around two thirds in, marked by an effective switch to the present tense. The illustrations smeared across some of the pages, in particular the rat who gets poisoned, also serve to add to the general air of ominous terror. 

 

Thematically, there are shades of 1984 in Gardner's book, with the dictatorial regime Standish lives under using an external foe to spread fear among their citizens, thus preventing them from holding their own Government to account. But the regime, with its obsession over projecting an image of power whilst brutally suppressing its own people, brings to mind a certain regime of today which is flexing its war muscles in front of the cameras while its people starve off it (no prizes for guessing which nation that is). Lest we forget, and as Orwell himself warned us, this is something that could happen to any country. Maggot Moon is thus a vital, cautionary tale for our times, and one you could worse than recommend to not only a teenager, but pretty much anyone.

On being agented but unpublished

In April last year, my agent sent out the manuscript of my debut novel to a load of publishers and we waited. Approximately one year later, we have had eight rejections and six still to get back to us (i.e. probable rejections, but hey-you-never-knows).

Is that tough to take? You betcha. Is this going to be a self-pitying rant/moan about my misfortune? Not if I can help it…

Yes, of course it’s not easy. If you get an agent it tells you that you are good enough to be published, or at least they think you are. I am, of course, talking about getting published the traditional way, which to me is still the gold standard all serious writers should aspire to. An editorial seal of approval still counts for a lot, surely.

The cautionary tale I want those of you approaching literary agents with your manuscripts to take away from this is that getting an agent is only the beginning. It’s a major breakthrough, yes, and the day you get one is a day to be celebrated. But, trust me, it could well be a long way to go yet. You may get lucky, you may not. Heck, I was very lucky with getting an agent: they were pretty much the first ones I approached.

So yes, being agented but unpublished can be agonising sometimes: you’re so close, but being published is oh so tantalisingly out of reach. The problem is, or at least the problem I’ve experienced this past year, is that it can skew your perspective somewhat…

For instance, I know full well that I’m in a better position than 99.9% of writers by having a top notch literary agent in my corner. I know full well that there will be plenty of people reading this thinking, ‘ungrateful bastard, he’s moaning about being unpublished, but he’s got an agent hasn’t he?’ Well, yes, but ultimately you get an agent to help you be published, remember.

Also skewing my perspective are things like, say, Twitter. Having the tag line ‘YA Author and School Librarian’ in my bio attracts lots of writers to follow me. And you know what? They all seem to be published, or having their debut coming out soon…and thus it becomes easy to forget that Twitter is Unreality: if you’re a writer who follows other writers, then it becomes rather full of people shamelessly self-promoting their writerly wares. The only tweets you see are, by and large, by people you choose to follow: it’s not actually indicative of the how the writing world is at large.

So the answer to dealing with a skewed perspective is to fight back with proper perspective. Here are a few things that are more important than getting published:

• A roof over your head, food on the table etc
• A steady, reliable income (more than £53 a week, Mr Duncan Smith). This is by no means guaranteed if you end up relying on your writing to financially sustain you…
• Having a day job you quite like, actually. 
• Doing something rewarding and worthwhile in the real world, which might be a bit more rewarding than getting paid for the schizophrenic, made up world you’ve transposed from your head and in to a manuscript. This can be something like voluntary work in Uganda this summer, say.
• Cardiff City getting in to the Premier League (this is by far the most important)

OK it seems obvious, but when you spend so much time writing about your own make believe world with your imaginary friends, you do forget the obvious sometimes. You see why you have to be mad to be a writer…

So yes, of course I want to be published. My agent wants me to be too, but the fact is that, much as she loves my writing (when she says things like ‘you are super talented’ I do believe she means it), she’d drop me if she thought there wasn’t the potential to make some tidy money from selling my books. That’s how all agents operate.

As for them publishers, who many a ‘they’re only interested if they think it’ll make loads of money, and so lots of literary fiction is ignored for the next Fifty Shades rip-off’ type accusation is levelled at? Well, yeah, they want to make money. It’s called capitalism. Deal with it: we all have to. Even The Clash sold out to a major label remember…

So, you know, there are worse places to be than being agented but not published. Heck, there are worse places to be than unagented and unpublished: like, say, having your first book bomb, and every reputable publisher not wanting to go anywhere near you from then on. So the moral of the story is: chin up and keep going!

Book Review - Greyhound of a Girl by Roddy Doyle

 

 

 

http://www.roddydoyle.ie/

 

 

The widely acclaimed Roddy Doyle (his Barrytown Trilogy can regularly be found on ‘Top 100’ lists and the like) has a chance to make history this year. Yes, in case you’re not the sort of person who doesn’t pay attention to these literary prize thingies, he’s in with a shout of being the first author to claim both the prestigious Booker prize and the even more prestigious(!) Carnegie Medal. The last author to do a Carnegie-based double was the wonderful Neil Gaiman, and then of course we’ve recently witnessed Hilary Mantel become the first woman to win the Booker Prize twice, not to mention winning both the Booker and Costa in the same year, so Doyle has a chance to join some exalted company indeed.

Greyhound of a Girl is, of course, set in Ireland, and spans four generations of the female clan in the O’Hara family. The modern day thread follows Mary, a somewhat precocious twelve year old coming to terms with the impending death of her grandmother, Emer. Emer hasn’t completely got over the loss of her own mother, Tansey, who succumbed to flu when Emer was just a little girl herself: her biggest regret is never properly saying goodbye that fateful day. Tansey feels there is unfinished business too, so makes a return herself to take care of the wounds and help Emer leave this life with no regrets. So she comes back…as a ghost.

Despite its supernatural angle, Greyhound of a Girl is very much a gentle tale, intermingling sadness with humour. This is Roddy Doyle, after all, and I’m yet to come across a novel of his that isn’t an uplifting tale about working class Irish folk triumphing in the face of some adversity. So how much you like this book could well be determined by the extent to which you go for this sort of thing, and how much you can forgive Doyle for playing it safe and sticking to what he knows. Personally, I have a certain amount of patience for feel good, triumph-over-tragedy tales, but not much for Doyle doing it yet again after so many years.

That may seem rather unfair, as Greyhound of a Girl is not a bad book. The prose is simple but effective, and some familiar “Doyleian” hallmarks do work well, such as Mary’s unruly brothers, Dommo and Killer. The Greyhound motif is cleverly used, and Doyle doesn’t let too much sentimentality seep in to his story. But when all’s said and done, this is nothing special really. Tales of loss and heartache from a child’s point of view are everywhere you look in children’s/YA fiction, and there’s nothing original in either the style or the content here to make it stand out from the crowd. That, if I’m honest, is pretty much how I feel about Roddy Doyle’s fiction in general. Greyhound of a Girl is a decent enough read, yes, but certainly not Carnegie Medal winning material for me.