Book Review: Hold Back The Stars

I’m a sucker for any book about space (and, as I’ve proven lately, for any book with the word ‘star’ or ‘stars’ in the title) but I genuinely was particularly excited to read Katie Khan’s HOLD BACK THE STARS when I spotted it on NetGalley.  Like many, I went into it thinking it was YA… it turns out it’s not, strictly speaking, but as the author itself says it deals with the kind of themes that are relevant to YA readers (first love, commitment, choices) so could as easily be enjoyed by them as by an older demographic.  I’d like to think that this kind of category-defying/crossover book might be a further step on the path to a more open view of books and readerships and who can enjoy what… but that’s probably a discussion for another day.

To return to the matter in hand, HOLD BACK THE STARS concerns the story of Max and Carys (girls with Welsh names in space is another thing I’m particularly keen on!).  They are freefalling in space after a spacewalk gone wrong, with nobody to help them and certain death on the cards, with only ninety minutes of air.  While this predicament unfurls we are told the story of their complicated relationship in flashback, through which we also gain insight into a future Planet Earth – its society, its rules, its philosophy – and the impact all of these have on the real people that live on it.

This is a richly detailed and expertly realised world, and I am fully aware of the the complexities of this kind of world-building, having just been neck-deep in it while writing my third book.  It’s thoughtful and interesting while also, I felt, managing to raise debate-provoking questions about our own society and the decisions and directions currently being taken.  The structure is fascinating, disorientating and very well executed, building suspense and taking VERY unexpected turns before bringing us into land.  Like I said I think this is a book that could have a very broad appeal; it’s not easy to pigeonhole or label but I think that was one of the things I liked most about it.  There are readers of many ages and demographic factors who will thoroughly enjoy this book, and I was most certainly one of them.

Thanks to NetGalley for the eARC.

More reviews on my blog http://kateling.co.uk/blog/

Book Review: Ariadnis

AriadnisFrom the start of this book, told in dual narrative from the perspectives of the Chosen Ones of two rival cities, we are coming at this unusual future dystopia from two distinct mirror-image angles. After some kind of schism in the philosophies that brought them to this post-apocalyptic point, the two societies have been heading in different directions. The vaguely steampunk city above has its ideas about where society should be heading, while that below is more focused on living in tune with nature.

Playing with the Chosen One tropes, we are presented with the super strength of Aula as set against the mute, unharnessed powers of Joomia. They have very little time remaining until the final test that will seemingly decide the fates of their respective worlds.

These worlds are distinct, unusual, fresh and well drawn. I felt I was entering a fictional future that was not as well trodden as some of them have become. Side characters were well employed and had good flesh on their bones; those designed to be likeable were just that, while dastardly villains didn’t disappoint. I don’t know if it’s just my interpretation, but I was a big fan of the androgynous, multi-racial qualities of most of the young cast. It’s a pretty nifty way of allowing all comers to the book to project themselves into and onto your story without turning into one of those super politically correct authors tripping over themselves to incorporate a rainbow into their narrative at its own expense. I don’t mean to come over cynical there (though I probably do) because I felt this aspect worked well, added to the atmosphere, and was entirely appropriate in the context.

What’s most clever and impressive about this debut however is the symmetry of the dual narrative. As I’ve said before, I’m not a big fan of these unless there is a reason for them, and in this case there certainly is. The way the stories of the two heroines intertwine – coming together, moving apart and ultimately colliding, is a smart piece of plotting and in itself a mirror (see what I did there) of the novel’s own themes.

Nicely done, and a pacey, involving read. Thanks to NetGalley and Hachette for the ARC.

Book Review: Our Chemical Hearts

Our Chemical HeartsWhen the immensely likeable, self-deprecating and sensitive Henry first encounters the enigmatic, damaged Grace, they are being made joint editors of their school newspaper. They build a tentative friendship, and Henry finds his feelings for her growing, but it soon becomes clear that Grace’s life has been complicated lately, and that this has taken its toll on her body and soul.

There’s quite a lot of YA books that deal with similar subject matter to that of Krystal Sutherland’s Our Chemical Hearts – first love, heartbreak, grief – but I have rarely seen them dealt with from so fresh a perspective. The real nuts and bolts, the most truthful of emotions, are sensitively depicted. There are no platitudes here. What’s more, each character is given the space to show their darkest and lightest sides (and every shade of grey in between). We are not presented with heroes and villains, or innocent victims – Grace, for example, is depicted as someone who is cruel and difficult, as well as someone who is deeply wounded by what has happened to her. The visceral pain of unrequited love, loving someone even when we know we shouldn’t, is all here, but treated with so light a touch that there is also space for lively, witty dialogue between the leads, and a great many warm and charming comedy moments from the quirky ensemble cast.

At times, Sutherland overlays a contemporary and familiar setting with some beautiful imagery, elevating ordinary suburban locations into something as ethereal and otherworldly as the philosophical questions posed in the themes of the book itself. There are a number of tonal shifts in the story, but not one of them seems abrupt or inappropriate. In fact, as with life, the collection of different moments, moods and emotions captured in this narrative come together into a compelling and mutually enriching whole, which is wistful, beautiful, thoughtful, truthful and sad, while also managing to be funny, unusual and irresistibly readable.

Book Review: Optimists Die First

optimists-black-ukAs soon as I read the title of this I had to read it.  I mean, this is actually a philosophy I hold pretty dear.  I go into most situations expecting the worst – after all, that’s the only way to guarantee you’ll only be pleasantly surprised.  

But there’s a lot more to the path of Nielsen’s protagonist than pessimism.  She’s recovering from a horrible horrible tragedy, and doing it by pushing people away and approaching every situation with dread.  We see everywhere the tatters and echoes of a formerly happy life, which imploded the day her baby sister died.

There is a love story at the heart of this novel but at all times it feels like there is also a lot more.  Petula (great name!) is in the process of rebuilding her shattered soul piece by piece, and this means a lot more than just falling in love.  It’s about her friendships, her family, the things she used to love doing and all through the narrative these are woven together into a rich tapestry.

I love the quirky details of Petula’s world – the endless cats (and cat videos), the crafting and particularly the band of misfits at her art therapy group.  I’ve been in one of those myself actually and so I don’t think of this part of the story as far-fetched at all – they’re pretty interesting places.

What’s even better is that this isn’t all about the big happy ending; this is about the way people fight to survive, even when it seems impossible.  Inspiring, touching and funny by turns, Optimists Die First is a vivid and absorbing read.

Thanks to NetGalley for the eARC.

Book Review: The Last Thing You Said

tltysWinter is winter, even where I live in the South of Spain.  It’s scarves and cold floors and lighting the woodstove and dark mornings.  Which is why an escape into a balmy midsummer in Minnesota lake country was exactly what I was looking for when I picked up The Last Thing You Said.

A year after the heartbreaking tragedy that drove them apart, Ben and Lucy are working summer jobs and hanging with friends and trying to move on.  The only problem is that every time they look at each other it all comes flooding back.  Told in a dual narrative, we are drawn into every detail of the protagonists’ lives – their jobs, their families, their romances, their friendships, the constant struggle to move on and put the pain of the past behind them.

Aside from the intensely evocative setting which leaps off every page and surrounds you with starry skies and sun-drenched lakeshores as you read, one of the great strengths of TLTYS has to be its cast of supporting characters.  Friends, family members and love interests are so well drawn and defined that you become almost as invested in them as in the two leads.  And while there was much that was idyllic about these summer days, the life portrayed was grounded in responsibility, tainted by doubt and pain, shadowed by guilt.

There was much to like about the deeply flawed Ben, and this was where the dual narrative really came into its own.  While his behaviour, from the outside, had Lucy’s friend Hannah declaring him a “moody little prick”, getting to see things from his perspective made it clear how deeply his actions were rooted in his pain.  Intimate touches like his collecting and polishing of rocks and the building of the inuksuit (I loved learning about these) added depth and sensitivity.  I’m not a fan of dual narratives when it seems like there’s no real point to them, but in this case the narrative was largely driven by the gap between the perception of behaviours and the truth of them, which was also completely appropriate within the context of looking at the different ways people deal with grief.

Flawed but likeable characters, a rich and unusual setting, emotional honesty – TLTYS is an atmospheric, absorbing and touching read.

Many thanks to NetGalley for the eARC.

Book Review: Songs About a Girl

saagLook, I’ll admit my dirty little secret, which is – drum roll – that I have never, that’s NEVER, not even as a hormonally charged fourteen year old, been a fan of any boyband.  EVER.  I realise this makes me weird.  I even tried to cultivate a liking for (showing my age now) Take That in their original early nineties heyday just to try and fit in.  But big boots and plaid shirts and Pearl Jam cassettes kept calling me back to the dark side.  I think I was just too weird grumpy depressed cool for all that sweaty lust and screaming and waiting outside the newsagent before school on a Wednesday morning just to be the first to tear out the latest poster in the centre pages of Smash Hits, ready to blu tack to my artex bedroom wall.

Imagine my surprise therefore when I dove into Chris Russell’s “Songs About a Girl” and found myself barely surfacing for air.  This is, after all, a book that is unashamedly about a boy band, albeit one that is told from the point of view of a non fan.  In it we are treated to a rare insight into the backstage antics, the behind-the-scenes nuts and bolts, and of course the tensions and bonds that inevitably build between the people that find themselves in this rarefied position.  As readers we are elevated out of the mosh pit (do those kind of gigs have mosh pits?) and taken by the hand up onto the stage to look back out at the stadium that is screaming our name, blinded by the lights.

It’s testament to Russell’s tight plotting, dry humour and deft character development that a cynic like me found myself utterly absorbed by plucky heroine Charlie’s journey as she gets to know the band (and herself) better.  The dialogue and lively banter lifts off the page and makes the characters come alive, and the mysteries and questions at the heart of the narrative keep the pages turning right until the final few lines.  And beyond.

It’s so thoroughly fresh, modern and current that I really can’t explain why this book made me so gloriously nostalgic for the years of teen fandom I never had, but it did.  So, having missed out on it in real life, I’m glad this book gave me the chance to be a boy band fan for a little while at least.  Better late than never, and I’m sure that, were they real, Fire & Lights would undoubtedly have the edge on early-nineties Take That in any case.

Book Review: Paper Butterflies

paper-buttefliesPeople throw the term “heartbreaking” around a lot when talking about books, but with this book, there really is no more fitting description.  At first I found June’s story almost impossible to read.  The unfairness of her situation and the way she was treated just made me want to shout at the pages.  Sometimes, with books that deal with issues this difficult I end up wondering if I even want to enter the world that is being created.  Sometimes they’re just not journeys I can bear to go on.  I never felt like that with this book.  Even though June’s world is so dark, is at times SUCH a dark place to be, I was nonetheless utterly compelled.

Into June’s dark world comes the ray of light that is her best friend Blister.  He and his unconventional family are so perfectly portrayed; flawed and ordinary and perfect and extraordinary all at once, just as those people are who come into our lives at the right time to save us in whatever way they can, or try to anyway.  But it’s all the questions at the heart of the novel that keep you turning the pages – the secrets and lies and bottled up emotions that swirl in June’s unhappy home are almost physically nauseating at times as they twist together and ultimately unravel.

This is a spectacularly well written book – intimate and emotional, steeped with fear, and imbued with a hope as delicate as a butterfly’s wings (paper or otherwise).  You’ve got to be brave to read this book, but it’s worth plucking up the courage.

Book Review: All the Bright Places

atbpUrgh, writer’s envy is a terrible thing. And I felt it on basically every other page, if not more, of this book. There’s just so much I love about the surprising and original writing. And the characters are just so vividly drawn, not just Violet and the amazing Finch, but so so many others as well – their families, their school friends, even the bit parts are so solidly depicted. The love story is so well paced as well, so compelling. Literally could NOT put it down. I think this is one of the most relatable and sensitive depictions of mental health issues I’ve seen, as well as giving a fresh, original and realistic take on it. Totally jealous, and am simultaneously excited for the movie and fearful it won’t live up to my high expectations.

Book Review: The Long Way To a Small Angry Planet

 

TLWTASAPI was recommended this book on #ukyachat but really had no idea what to expect.  I loved the title and of course I’m a HUGE sci-fi fan, so I was looking forward to finding out what the buzz was about.

In TLWTASAP, Becky Chambers introduces us to a vast, complex, multi-racial interconnected universe in which economic, political and cultural differences have been overcome to form a fragile alliance between many of the planets, systems and alien races. This is explored in both macro scale and micro scale, in the form of the multi-racial crew of the jobbing tunnelling ship The Wayfarer, a diverse and quirky band who have accepted their differences and fallen into a close camaraderie. They land the high-paying job of their dreams, but over the time and distance it takes them to complete it, they discover that it is not without its drawbacks.

The morals and ethics of war, the greed and inevitable fate of the human race, differing philosophies and notions of love, family and friendship – there is just so much in this book to think about and discuss. I found myself thinking that there was more than one story here, that there were, in fact, potentially dozens of spin-offs I would be interested to read. For this reason I was not surprised and was happy to find out that this is the first in a series.

The dazzling world building put me in mind of Iain M Banks’ Culture sci-fi series in its epic scale, diversity and solid rendering, and will ensure that any reader is keen to revisit this world. A fantastic and highly original book with action, tension, depth and heart.

Found in Translation

Screen Shot 2016-07-04 at 18.21.10July 1st saw the release of the first translated foreign language version of The Loneliness of Distant Beings – Eenzaam en Extreem Ver Weg – in Holland.  So far, the Dutch publishers, bloggers, readers (well just about everybody involved) have been so positive and responded with such enthusiasm and I am super excited to have been translated into a language I don’t even slightly understand so that I can reach a whole new set of readers.  Can you imagine how hard it is to translate a whole book?  Crazy.

On the left is the quote card the Dutch publishers produced with a book club who sent my book out in the monthly box to their subscribers.  There were two hundred of these cards that traveled all the way to Spain for me to sign, before heading back to Holland and into the homes of new readers.  A few of them even made videos of them”unboxing” and then posted them online (apparently this is a thing).  Obviously I have no idea what anyone is saying in these videos but I still think they’re very cool:  http://www.celebratebooks.nl/unboxing/.

Tonight I will even be dropping in to an event over there (sadly only via Skype) but I am really looking forward to meeting (sort of) some of my readers over there.  Wish me luck!