Debbie Young’s debut novel (she is the author already of various anthologies of short stories and non-fiction) is billed as a cosy-mystery – I would suggest the term comic-mystery – there are so many slight, humerous moments to this story that get you smiling.
Perhaps unsurprising for a novel that comes from the pen of an author who is also active in the Alliance of Independent Authors (I half-expected there to be a direct mention at one of the many village meetings!) and who is the founding director of the Hawkesbury Upton Literary Festival, this is a murder mystery that exudes literary and other bookish references. Take the Sophie Sayer’s name for instance. I’m really hoping that Hector Munro might become her Lord Peter Whimsy.
The story begins at the village show, a highpoint in any yearly calendar, and in the shocking discovery of murder in a manner reminiscent of those pre-opening titles moments that anyone who has watched Death in Paridise will be be familiar with. The story winds back two months to Sophie’s arrival in the village to live in the house she has inherited from her aunt (has another murder taken place here too?). If I can leverage any criticism of this mystery is that much as I love reading the excentricities of the Cotswold village life I did at times want to move on to the murder and solving thereof the mystery a little bit quicker.
Sophie though, is a character with her own backstory that is not as simple as you might think (don’t all detectives have a troubled backstory?) and she must grapple with her own insecurities and life as she she stumbles through her own over-active imagination about what the villagers might be like and be capable of before she can solve the mystery at hand. Surely Carol, the gossiping proprieter of the village shop who is every bit a Susan Carter out The Archers, is capable of killing people, or if not has the motivations to do so.
I shall look forward to seeing where Sophie’s next adventure takes us.
Who didn’t have a fascination for a fossils and dinosaurs as a child? This is a delightfully traditional tale of childhood adventure. Andy and Darren are two boys who dream of making a big archeological discovery in the woods near where they live.
As it says on the backcover, this is a book that “is set in the days before the internet when children looked for adventure out of doors rather than online”. Anyone remembers the 1980s TV summer holidays programme, Why Don’t You? will know exactly what the author means by this. The downside to this admission, and to little observances throughout the book, is that what could be a beautifully timeless tale is somewhat dated. For the most part this could be a story that happens now, with mobile phones and the internet just shelved as something not needed in the adventure much like Deborah Shepherd does in her book, The Underhill Buttons, but instead Betty Salthouse has decided to set it in I would guess the 1980s. The reference to fax machines jarred for me but then again, for those growing up as children now, maybe the description would be entirely appropriate as it is a technology that has all but vannished as quickly as it arrived.
These are small quibbles though to an otherwise excellently told adventure of children discovering something big. There was a brief glimpse of something fantastical but it was a dream sequence, and there was an all too current reference to something that might have been a climatic threat. A refreshingly traditional children’s tale.
http://www.akcor.com.tr/?spayki=%D8%A3%D9%81%D8%B6%D9%84-%D8%A5%D8%B4%D8%A7%D8%B1%D8%A7%D8%AA-%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AA%D8%AF%D8%A7%D9%88%D9%84-%D8%A8%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AE%D9%8A%D8%A7%D8%B1%D8%A7%D8%AA-%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AB%D9%86%D8%A7%D8%A6%D9%8A%D8%A9-2014&59e=7b أفضل إشارات التداول بالخيارات الثنائية 2014 Silent Voices: A Selection of Poems Written by Those Not Always Heard by Jo Allmond , Joy Thomas
This is quite simply an outstanding anthology of poetry however you look at it. Every poem had me gripping the page and brought to tears. This is a book formed out of the friendship of two amazing people who met at a literary festival and found that they had a message to get across. What they have achieved in just one year is collecting together a set of poems that speak directly to the reader about what it’s like to care for, and be cared for, people of ‘difference’.
This is a book that should be pressed into the hands of every elected individual as to why we need more NHS and more social care. It is as the title says, the voices of the silent – those who are not always heard. Jess Hiles probably puts it the simplest, “We are the same / but I am different.”
Some of the authors included in this slim volume may only have one poem to tell; and some may never have considered that they could tell their tale in this way. This collection proves that everyone has a voice and should be heard and listened to. It is a book that I will be recommending to everyone I know.
The calendar year may start in January in the depths of winter but for most, the year begins with Spring. This is the first in Melissa Harrison’s stand-out series of anthologies based around the four seasons. I started reading it with the seasons, having started with Autumn which was outstanding. This one doesn’t quite reach that level of perfection.
Like the other volumes in the series, Spring is a miscellany of poetry, prose, and nature writing by both contemporary and past authors. The format remains the same, of keeping you to the end before revealing the author and the date that it is from – often with surprises in store when you realise that something you thought was of the now, is actually from the nineteenth century.
The biggest joy of this book, is the last item in the anthology, featuring as it does a place which exudes the very essence of Spring from somewhere that I know and love very, very well.
On Saturday I took part for the second time, as author and panellist, at the 3rd http://winevault.ca/?perex=opzioni-binarie-guadagno-dei-broker opzioni binarie guadagno dei broker Hawkesbury Upton Literary Festival. I reprised my role from last year for the talk on Writing About Difference.
This is a discussion that, just as at last year’s festival, was something very special, and for my own small part on it is something that I am very proud of being part of. One of the proudest achievments over the last year is meeting Joy Thomas, and Jo Allmond and Jess Hiles. It was because of last year’s festival and the panel discussion that we were all on together that Jo and Joy put together Tastylia, Tadalafil Oral Strip Silent Voices, an anthology of poems written by those who are not always heard.
This is a collection of poems written by authors, some of whom have preferred to remain anonymous who are directly affected by seen or unseen difference, or who are the carers of people with mental or physical disibilities. My only part in this project was to typeset the book for print and ebook, but I gladly gave this time in order that Joy and Jo could have the book ready to launch at this year’s festival – back where it all began a year ago.
I confess that when I first found out about this book – struck by the cover in a bookshop window – thought it was a beautiful tale of nature writing. That, it definitely is. I should have known really, after all, crows are the harbingers of death.
This is a book about grief, and loss, and adjusting to the death of your wife and mother to your two boys, and it is powerful reading. Half poetry, half prose, the witing is spartan and every word is carefully chosen. The honesty of it and lyrical, simplistic style reminds me of David Almonds books, but this is anything but a simplistic story.
This is definitely not a story for the faint-hearted. It is a story to make you think though.
This book is not quite what I expected. Not that I really knew much of what I did expect. I imagined that it might be travel writing by a man walking the old ways (the tracks, roads, and laylines of the past) and discovering are flora, fauna, culture, and history along the way. I wouldn’t say that its not that, but its not that imediately.
In fact it’s fair to say that Robert Macfarlane’s writing style took a little getting used to but by the time I got the chapters on walking across the Broomway or sailing in Scottish waters I was in love with the rhythm and movement and stories of the chapters; each one and essay of not just the old ways that we have trod, but the old ways that we have lived.
This is a book to inspire you to get out in the country and get away from the towns and cities and the rush of life and reconnect with the land and learn more about it and our history in the process.
Today sees the start of opzioni binarie il fatto quotidiano World Autism Awareness Week. Autism and aspergers are hidden conditions. At their most pronounced autism is a condition that can isolate people from the world and make it hard for them to cope, but even at it’s mildest it is a challenge to live with in a world where other people don’t consider to be a problem what they can’t live. Just because they appear to be normal, hold down 9–5 jobs, and appear to have normal family lives, does not make their day to day lives any more of a struggle.
It took until I was 30 and put through workplace bullying before I discovered I probably had aspergers and it was another couple of years before I had a semi-official diagnosis and 1-2-1 coaching to overcome some of my biggest challenges. Since then, I have had progressed in my career and found my one-true love (and accompanying menagerie of furry, feathered, and fishy beasts), and I am so much better than I was at understanding the world and those unspoken cues. Sometimes I think I understand too well, and that it makes it all too easy for other’s to forget that sometimes Thomas, through no fault of his own, just doesn’t get as quickly as you might expect him too, what others understand straight away.
In my writing life, the thing that I struggle most with is showing not telling. Considering that probably the single-most lofted criticism at a writer is that they tell not show, this is unfortunate thing to be lacking in. The fact that I pull off the very personal story of Mr Tumnal is something that I feel very proud of, and if I can do the same with it’s forthcoming sequel, then I will be extremely lucky in deed.
Mr Tumnal is outwardly a story of a man who married his imaginary friend. How much that imaginary friend has to with fairy magic is something the reader must discover. At a more personal level it is a story of a man who is not friendless but without that one close friend; who is not alone but is lonely. It is a story of a man illequipped to deal with the complexities of ordinary social situations that most people take for granted. He finds comfort in his own company because that is where he is understood. Some might brandish him a weirdo. I would argue he’s just different. And like everyone who is ‘different’ from the norm he has his own gift to bring to the world.
In supporting World Autism Awareness Week and the work of the National Autistic Society, I would like everyone to find out a bit more about what makes some of us different, and the challenges we face, and to give us a bit of space of understanding in the world.
pilota opzioni binarie TE Shepherd is the author of obligazionibinarie Mr Tumnal and The End Of All Worlds. In support of World Autism Awareness week, from 27 March to 2 April 2017, he will be donating 50% all profits raised from the sales of his book to go to help support the work of the National Autistic Society.
Wow! Just wow! This is fast-paced, powerful story that grabs you at the first page and carries you to the very last page. Half pages of a journal (The Book) written by Bonnie’s mother and father, and half Bonnie’s own story in her own words it leads you through her conception, birth, and life. It is also interspliced with transcriptions from her meetings with her psychiatrist
We never discover exactly what Bonnie’s condition is, but I suspect that she has Aspergers or otherwise on the autism spectrum. She is ferociously intelligent and quick-witted but absolutely literal.
Jessica Bell’s writing is similarly, and absolutely, honest. It is reminiscent of Mark Haddon at his very best as she draws the nature and behavour of a cast of disfunctional but all too real and believable characters. Just make sure you’re sitting down for the ending when it hits you.
It’s been a perrennial ambition of mine to read more poetry. Unlike last year when I fulfilled an aim to read Tolstoy’s War & Peace, poetry is much more of a struggle for me, and that pains me. I wonder whether that my aspergers and the way I ‘read’ things literally causes me an added problem with poetry where it is is, ‘all’ metaphor?
So why this volume of John Clare? And why now? I’ve been reading some nature writing recently, principally Melissa Harrison’s Autumn and found myself exposed to his work. I also work with Simon Kövesi – one of the leading experts on John Clare – an instigator in the biopic, By Ourselves and I have found myself drawn to find out more about the man and his poetry.
This volume, edited by Jonathan Bate, is an excellent primer to one of our finest working class, romantic poets. Obstensivly it’s just a collection of his poetry, but I found it to be so much more than that. In the way that it’s collected together it reads like an autobiography – an autobiography of verse and song. Starting with the innocence of the countryside and the village traditions, it moves through a period of ‘fame’ and into a more political phase, and then, a wayward abandom of directly critiquing society and the ruling classes, to a quiet reflection and introspection.
This is a volume of poetry that makes you realise how much we have lost of our heritage and our ways of doing things. Farming back then, was hard, backbreaking work but we were so more connected with nature and the natural rhythms of the seasons that we have lost by now. This makes me sad. At the same time, some of the most poignant of John Clare’s poetry succeeds in giving optomism for the future.
Author, illustrator, singer, and songwriter, Jessica Bell is an inspiration to everyone who knows her. There is seemingly nothing she can’t do, and nothing she can’t handle. None of us are entirely as we seem though. We all have our demons that we face, and Jessica is no different. With a life that has ranged from metroplitan Australia (her birth home) to retreats on the Greek islands, and to Athens (where she now lives), Jessica tells it as it is.
I used music to fuel my writing. As time went by, I discovered I was more easily able to express my feelings that way. The problem was, those feelings were no longer mine. They were those of the characters in my books.
Jessica is probably best known as one of the new breed of Indie Author’s, and a successful and creative cover designer. This though is not primarily that story, but one of her childhood and beyond into adulthood, and her journey to becoming a pop/rock star. It is a story that is told frankly but with periods of reflection. The Dear Reflection of the title is Bell looking at herself and talking to herself about how her life has been, and where she has succeeded, and where she has made mistakes.
From a memory of playing shop with her grandparents as a childhood to observations on life, this is a book that is so full of quotable passages I found myself highlighting something on virtually every other page. It is a joy to read, marred only by the breakneck speed of the telling. Sometimes I just wanted the author to slow down a bit, stay longer, tell us more. Even at the speed that it does take though, here is so much more to tell. Part Five, takes from 2005 right up to the present day, and yet her Indie Author career is barely touched on. I shall look forward to reading about that side of her life in the follow-up to this debut memoir.
This is a gut-wrenchingly open and honest account of a life that, by the author’s own admission, has had it’s ups and downs – or to put it another way has had ecstatic highs and crushing lows – the like of which we haven’t seen that often since Maya Angelou’s I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.
Sometimes hardship leads to goodness. Every day of my life, I have to remind myself of this. I have to remind myself to stop listening to my reflection declare her insecurities and scepticism.
http://www.amtechinternational.com/?salsa=%D8%A8%D8%B1%D9%86%D8%A7%D9%85%D8%AC-%D8%A7%D9%84%D8%AA%D9%86%D8%A8%D8%A4-%D8%AE%D9%8A%D8%A7%D8%B1-%D8%AB%D9%86%D8%A7%D8%A6%D9%8A&042=c7 برنامج التنبؤ خيار ثنائي Boom! by Mark Haddon
This was a rollercoaster of read involving school teachers and aliens, a road trip and wise-cracking dialogue. It was fast and funny but it also lackd none of Mark Haddon’s trademark portrayal of family relationships, some disfunctional and some not.
Where at one point, you thought characters were going to take you (and the story) in one direction there is constant surprise around the next corner as it lurches you on in much the same way as Craterface’s motorbike. I think I might quite like to see a spin-off story about Craterface actually and/or Becky.
Amongst the crazy-fun story, you do get to learn more how not to judge people too quickly and that we all make mistakes, and we can all be a friend to another at different times, but not necessarily all the time.
Like it’s sister book, Autumn, this is not just a collection of poetry, prose, and non-fiction but a narrative of the darkest season. It takes us through the cold winter months through, frosts and fog, and flurries of snow. We feel through the words the hard, frozen ground under foot, and the wildest of storms.
Diary entries keep us locked to natures calendar with its stories of winter survival and migratory escape. There are possibly more contemporary accounts in this volume than in Autumn but the writers still range across the centuries, and with the citations and dates not given until the end of each piece it is sometimes reassuringly hard to tell, and often a surprise!
The last few collected passages gently tease us of winter’s passing, and the promise of the season to come, echoing the hope that we all feel at the end of darkest of seasons.
http://www.divestit.com.au/?parasyk=opzioni-binarie-10-euro&dd0=60 opzioni binarie 10 euro White Mountain by Sophe E. Tallis
Tolkein’s The Hobbit aside, I do not often read the sword and sorcery fantasy that involves dragons, but Sophie Tallis’ White Mountain is too beautiful a book not to read. Even in the Kindle version, the illustrations by the author shine through and help you draw you into a world – epic in scale – and under control a dark and powerful wizzard.
The story has the feel of of Elizabeth Kerner’s Song in the Silence in the way that humans, wizards, and dragons co-exist in the world. Whenever I think of dragons I thing big, Tolkien Smaug-sized beasts that dwarf the other characters, and so I did stuggle a bit with placing the size of some of the dragons we meet in this story.
Where this story succeeds marvellous is the relationship between the old, wizened Mr Agyk and his apprentice witch, Wendya, and through them their relationship with Gralen. No spoiler’s here, but the closing chapters are heartrending until the end…
So the season four finale of Sherlock was last night – don’t worry no spoilers here. As to what I made of it? Well, what can I say? On the whole, I enjoyed it, it was a good romp. But it left me somewhat unfulfilled. Where it worked best were the tiny little cases-within-a-case in the thoroughly modern and uniquely clever style.
But these cases showed up the main story-arc. Whilst these mini-cases are clearly lifted directly from Arthur Conan Doyle short stories and demonstrate Sherlock Holmes’ impossibly quick powers of deduction and reason, the frankly ridiculous story involving Sherlock’s sister(?!?) Eurus made you realise that whilst Mark Gatis is an accomplished writer and a Holmes fan, he is no Conan Doyle.
If Sherlock returns for a new series, and I do hope it does, then I really would like it to return with maybe 6 hour-long episodes that stuck more closely to the Arthur Conan Doyle stories whilst bringing them up to date in the 21st century. Remember back to the very first episode A Study in Pink that was lifted directly from A Study in Scarlet! That’s the kind of thing we need.