I’d never heard of Lisa Beazley - unsurprising, as this is her debut novel. When I spotted it on the ‘Bookbag’ shelves, available for review, I decided that it sounded like my kind of book.
‘Keep me Posted’ is written in a light-hearted, informal style, narrated by a young mother called Cassie who lives in New York. She and her husband Leo have twin toddlers, and her life is busy, full of technology and fast food. Her older sister Sid is more laid back, and something of a technophobe; they used to be close, but haven’t really been in touch since Sid and her family moved to Singapore.
So they decide to write and post real letters to each other for a year. Cassie doesn’t trust the international mail, so she scans all the letters, and then decides to make a backup on a private blog…
The first half of the book follows Cassie’s life, interspersed with a few of the letters. I could relate to her quite well as a stressed mother, finding the noise and chaos overwhelming at times. I got a bit muddled with some of her friends, and kept forgetting who was who, but it didn’t matter over-much.
Then suddenly everything changes. I could barely put the book down in the second half, as events spiral out of control, although the last few chapters lead to a satisfactory conclusion.
The writing is good, if a little over-peppered with obscenities for my tastes. Sometimes I find an informal style to be a bit irritating in a novel, but the author has got it just right, in my view. Probably intended mostly for younger women, it appealed to me despite my more advanced years.
There’s not a whole lot of plot, as it’s character-based, but there’s plenty of action and I found myself growing quite fond of Cassie’s boisterous twins. It would make ideal holiday reading; it doesn’t need much thought, and while I won't necessarily read it again, I enjoyed it.
You can also read my longer review of 'Keep me Posted' on the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2016 Sue's Book Reviews
I’ve enjoyed books by Erica James for many years now, and am always pleased when a new one is published, although I usually add it to my wishlist after the paperback edition is released. So I was delighted to find her most recent novel available for review from the Bookbag site, and have just finished reading the hardback edition, published this month.
‘Song of the Skylark’ has quite a cast of characters, and I found it a little difficult, at first, to keep track of everyone. Lizzie is the main protagonist; we meet her trying in vain to apply for new jobs after losing her previous one. We quickly learn that she was sacked for rather blatant immoral behaviour with her boss, a married man.
Lizzie had to give up her flat when she became unemployed, and is temporarily staying with her parents. Her mother persuades her to volunteer at a local care home for the elderly until she can find a job, and Lizzie reluctantly agrees. There she meets Mrs Dallimore, a delightful lady in her mid-nineties, who starts telling Lizzie about her life as a young woman.
From this point the novel has two timeframes: that of the present day, and that of Mrs Dallimore - Clarissa - in her twenties. The latter starts in 1939 when, as a young woman, she travels alone from the United States to the UK in the hope of getting to know her late mother’s estranged family.
The characterisation is good, as with all Erica James’ books. Inevitably the shadow of World War II impinges on Clarissa’s life, and I thought it gave a good picture of what it might have been like to live through this era.
I found Lizzie rather annoying in the first half of the book. She has made some foolish mistakes, and seems to expect a career to fall into her lap. But gradually I began to like her better. It’s quite a skill to create a heroine who starts out by seeming to have almost no redeeming features.
The writing is just the right pace for my tastes, and I found it quite difficult to put down at times. Definitely recommended to anyone who enjoys thoughtful women’s fiction where past and present time-frames alternate. Available for the Kindle as well as in hardback.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'Song of the Skylark' at the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2016 Sue's Book Reviews
I’ve liked all the books I’ve read by Rachel Hore, over quite a few years now, so I was delighted when I saw her latest novel available for review at the Bookbag site. Each of this author’s books is somewhat different; when I saw the image on the front cover, I thought immediately of a somewhat old-fashioned house in a London square.
That’s pretty much what ‘The House in Bellevue Gardens’ is about. Leonie is an artist, who lets out rooms to people in need. There’s Peter, who occupies the basement and lives in squalor; an elderly Indian couple, Hari and Bela, and a rather shy young man called Rick who is writing a graphic novel.
Then there are two young women whom we meet at the start of the book: Rosa is from Poland; she’s come to London look for her brother. Stef has run away from a controlling relationship and has nowhere else to go.
The format of the book seems a little confusing at first, with short sections from different viewpoints. Despite their different backgrounds, I found it a bit difficult to distinguish Stef and Rosa sometimes, but Leonie is a delightful person, and her unfolding story kept me reading, sometimes for an hour or more at a time. There are some caricatures in the minor characters, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
It’s not a fast action story, nor is there any clear plot. The recurring theme is that of freedom, and the many ways in which people can be trapped. There’s a bird stuck in a chimney whose struggles and eventual fate mirror those of some of the people. The writing flows almost poetically at times; the author’s use of description and setting are excellent, full of sensory detail.
The last few chapters felt a bit hurried, with one or two surprises and much that was predictable. But it’s a thought-provoking book, and I enjoyed it.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'The House on Bellevue Gardens' at the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2016 Sue's Book Reviews
I’ve enjoyed the books I’ve read by Jenny Colgan: they’re usually light-weight but with interesting people, and very often with a cookery or baking theme. I was pleased to note a new one on the Bookbag site, available for review, and immediately asked if I could have it.
I loved the introduction. It explains that this is a book for readers who love books, and outlined with light humour the places where the author recommends settling down with a good book. I related strongly to the idea of reading in bed, and forgetting who is whom as I drop off to sleep; this is my usual mode.
The story itself is about Nina, a twenty-something librarian who loses her job. She’s a quiet person, not prone to adventures, who loves to work with books. She admits to a dream of having a travelling book van; then one thing leads to another, and soon Nina finds herself with a van, aiming to drive it down from Scotland to the Midlands.
A nasty incident on a railway crossing nearly causes Nina to lose everything… and she’s thrown into a new lifestyle and location with no idea whether or not her plan will be a success.
It’s a pleasant character-based story, and I found myself relating strongly to Nina at times. Some of the other people are a bit caricatured but that doesn’t matter; it makes it easy to remember who is who, even while reading in bed…
There are some lovely sub-plots. I particularly liked one involving a teenage girl who is neglected and impoverished, but who loves to read. Nina has a gift of discovering the right book for everyone, even the most reluctant of readers, and I like to think it might be possible to do this.
There’s an inevitable romantic thread running through the book too; I wasn’t so keen on this part, since one ‘hero’ turns out to be unsuitable, and I never saw the attraction of the other. The ending was a bit abrupt, too, everything falling rather too neatly into place.
Oh, and - unlike others I have read by this author - there are no recipes at the back.
Nevertheless, this made for an enjoyable few days’ reading, and I appreciated a story about such an unlikely heroine. The writing is good, the conversations mostly realistic, and I think it would make ideal holiday reading for anyone who likes light women’s fiction starring quieter people.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'The Little Shop of Happy Ever After' at the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2016 Sue's Book Reviews
I read a couple of Jack Sheffield’s books about five years ago, and enjoyed them very much. They were written in a similar style to those popularised by, for instance, James Herriot or Gervase Phinn, told mostly in the first person, describing the author’s first couple of years as Headmaster at a small village primary school in Yorkshire. The village (Ragley) is fictional, as are most of the characters, but the incidents and situations encountered are based on the author’s experience.
So, although I did not read any more of the series, I jumped at the opportunity of reading the author’s latest offering, ‘Silent Night’ when I saw it available for review at The Bookbag. The cover depicts a small girl standing on tiptoe to sing into a microphone, against the background of deep red curtains with the title in gold lettering… so I assumed this would be a Christmas-themed book.
Instead it’s the account of another year in Jack’s headship, and is the eighth in the series. It’s set in the school year starting September 1984. Jack is married to Beth, a dynamic young woman who is Head of another school, and they have a toddler son. Beth is feeling a bit cramped in their little cottage and longs for more challenge in her career, while Jack is very contented pottering along as a village school Head.
The book is set, perhaps a bit too overtly, in its historical context by asides mentioning topical news items and pop songs of the era. Jack’s life is punctuated by minor frustrations of bureaucracy, a few misunderstandings, and occasional irate parents. It’s also enriched by mildly amusing mistakes made by children, although they all felt a bit predictable; and since every child spoke with the same kind of voice, I never remembered who was who. I smiled a couple of times, but no more. The Yorkshire dialect was a bit tricky to read sometimes, and there were moments when I felt almost as if the entire teaching staff - who spoke perfect English - felt themselves superior to the families they were working with.
Yet it was pleasant light reading, and a good book to read in a busy period. I had no trouble at all putting it down at night when I wanted to sleep. I think it would appeal to those who enjoy light-weight meanderings into a gentler way of school life, prior to the National Curriculum. I suggest reading at least one or two of the earlier books before embarking on this one, just so that the sheer number of people and stories does not seem so overwhelming.
Available in paperback or Kindle format.
You can also read my longer review of 'Silent Night' at The Bookbag site.
Many years ago I read and enjoyed Michelle Magorian’s best-known novel ‘Goodnight Mister Tom’. So when I saw her latest young adult novel on the Bookbag review shelves, it was the work of a moment to request it.
'Impossible' features twelve-year-old Josie who would rather be a boy. She attends a stage school, which we quickly realise is not teaching her anything useful although somehow its children manage to get parts in stage shows.
Set in 1959, this is almost reminiscent of Noel Streatfeild at first: a talented and determined child trying to make her way in the world while adults make things difficult. There are rather a lot of people introduced in the first few chapters of the book and I found myself a little bewildered at times. However, it didn’t matter much as the writing is crisp and fast-paced, and Josie is a believable and likeable child.
I knew from the blurb on the back that there would be an exciting thread concerning mistaken identity, although this doesn't occur until about a third of the way through. There’s tension and excitement, both on stage and in the events off-stage, and Josie proves herself courageous and loyal.
Josie and her family are seamlessly woven into the stage history of the era. She takes part in workshops and a production that actually happened, directed by someone who is now considered the founder of modern theatre techniques. I was a little disappointed that there was no epilogue explaining which parts of the book were based on reality, but perhaps it doesn’t matter.
If I have a niggle with the book, it’s that it seems to be overtly educational in places. Still, with a main character of twelve, I assume that it's intended for the 10-12 age group, the kind of children who have not been daunted by the length of JK Rowling’s books, and who might appreciate knowing factual details about theatre and filming.
By the time I was a few chapters in, I could barely put it down. I thought it would take me weeks to finish, as there are nearly 600 pages, but I managed it in three days.
All in all, this is an amazing book. Very highly recommended. Available in Kindle form as well as paperback.
My longer review of 'Impossible' can be found at the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2014 Sue's Book Reviews
I mostly like Jenny Colgan’s books, so I did not hesitate when asking if I could have this to review for the Bookbag site. This particular one is third in a series about a young woman called Rosie Hopkins. She lives in a small village in Derbyshire with Stephen, and runs a sweetshop.
While each book stands alone (this comes with a helpful summary at the start) 'The Christmas Surprise' picks up where ‘Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop of Dreams’ finished, and takes us through another year.
Rosie and Stephen start the year on a high, then tragedy strikes, and the rest of the year includes an unexpected trip abroad and a new experience which is to change Rosie and Stephen’s lives forever.
There are depths to this book which I was not expecting, and some very moving scenes. While many of the minor characters are somewhat caricatured it means they’re easy to remember. Rosie and Stephen are more believable and I found myself relating well to them both.
The ending is perhaps rather too tidy, involving someone behaving rather out-of-character. I liked it a lot, but it did feel a bit forced, as if the author was tying up a lot of loose ends in a happy-ever-after fashion.
At the end there are a few Christmas recipes, which made a nice extra feature.
My one gripe with the book is the amount of bad language. The occasional expletive doesn’t worry me, but there was more than I’m comfortable with. This means I’m less likely to recommend this to some of my friends who would otherwise have enjoyed it.
The writing is informal, well-paced and with a good amount of conversation. I found it an easy read, ideal for the run-up to Christmas, and would recommend it to anyone looking for a light but thought-provoking novel.
Available in Kindle form as well as print.
You can also read my longer review of 'The Christmas Surprise' at the Bookbag site.
'Almost perfect' is the debut novel for Delia Franklin, a writer who is active in social networking but does not, as far as I can tell, have a site of her own. It was the delightfully quirky front cover which made me notice it on the Bookbag shelves and request it a couple of weeks ago.
'Almost Perfect' starts well. Gloria is happily surveying her vegetable patch. A tractor approaches and as her employer Will climbs down, his mobile phone alerts him to his granddaughter Lucy being in a serious state in hospital.
The scene is set, with a little info about Will's life and his daughter Holly. It appears to be a light-hearted book as Will sets off for the station in his tractor, still wearing his muddy wellies.
However, the next five chapters are rather long-winded and rambling flashbacks which didn't tell me much more than I had learned in the first chapter. Moreover, the viewpoint switches far too rapidly. Eventually we're back to Lucy but somehow there is no emotional connection.
I kept feeling that there was a lot of potential; unfortunately, although some of the minor characters are typecast and quite likeable, I could not relate to any of the main ones at all. This book is a good idea, a workable plot, a nice mixture of people. However it should have had significant rewriting to bring the characters to life, to organise the structure more logically, and to cut out the unnecessary parts.
I wanted to like this, I really did. It’s gentle women’s fiction (albeit with a couple of dramatic and unpleasant scenes) and the kind of story I usually enjoy. But sadly, it has almost no emotional impact.
Available in Kindle form as well as paperback.
You can read my longer review of Almost Perfect at the Bookbag site
The books by Cecelia Ahern are all different. Some are quirky, some emotional, and some are decidedly strange. I've read several and like the style of writing, so I was pleased when I saw this one available for review at the Bookbag site.
Jasmine is the main protagonist of 'The year I met you', and also the narrator. She has just lost her job, an is on a year’s ‘gardening leave’: she is still salaried and not allowed to start another job.
The only quirk to this book is that it's written in the second person. Jasmine addresses the book to her neighbour Matt - the ‘you’ of the title - and works, on the whole, although it seems a bit odd at first. However, that's about all that marks it out. There isn’t much emotion, the characters are rather flat, and it’s almost entirely predictable throughout. There’s minor conflict but it’s all happily resolved; even a couple of mildly creepy people turn out to be reasonable enough underneath.
I’m making it sound dreary, but somehow it isn’t. The author has a good writing style, with realistic dialogue; there are, despite the lack of plot, some interesting scenes. I particularly liked the ones involving her sister Heather, who has Down Syndrome. I suppose it made a pleasant way of seeing into the lives of some everyday people who were learning about themselves - and there's an inevitable romance (though not with Matt).
The novel made ideal bedtime reading, one or two chapters at a time. There were no cliffhangers, no real tensions, so it was easy to put down, and pleasant to pick up again the following evening. There's some bad language (though not unreasonable in context) but the intimate scenes take place off stage.
Read it by all means if you like this author, or if you want something easy to read to take on holiday. But don’t expect too much. Then again, the blurb on the back calls this a ‘dazzling gem’, ‘heartbreaking and uplifting’ - so perhaps I’m missing the point.
Available in hardback both sides of the Atlantic, and also in Kindle form.
You can also read my longer review of 'The Year I Met You' on the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2014 Sue's Book Reviews
The author Marcia Willett has become one of my favourite writers in recent years. So when I saw her latest novel on TheBookbag shelves, I had no hesitation in requesting it to review. Her novels tend to be character-based with quite large casts, yet each person is memorable, with his or her quirks and endearing characteristics.
'Indian summer' starts by introducing us to Mungo, a retired actor and director. In one sense this is his book; yet the plot, to start with, seems to feature two women on the brink of possible romances. Kit - an old friend from the Chadwick trilogy - has been contacted by an old boyfriend. Emma, a young army wife, might be embarking on an affair...
This novel is set entirely in a small neighbourhood in Devon, with a few forays to a nearby café. As ever, Marcia Willett gives warm descriptions of places without becoming tedious, realistic conversation that stays entirely 'PG' rated, and no intrusions into her characters' bedrooms. The result is a thoughtful story, packed with interesting people. Perhaps a little slow-moving in places, it quickly drew me in.
There's much to think about, including the possible ramifications of an affair, and there are some quite shocking revelations at the end of the novel. But the serious side is nicely tempered with the innocence of a delightful four-year-old and the pomposity of a would-be author who has not the slightest idea what's going on around him.
All in all, I enjoyed this book very much.
You can also read my longer review of 'Indian Summer' at the Bookbag site.
Review copyright 2014 Sue's Book Reviews
I'm slightly surprised to learn that it's six years since I first came across Trisha Ashley. I've read five of her books in the intervening years, most of them courtesy of The Bookbag. I find the stories good, if lightweight, with a sometimes humorous touch, and the great benefit of being entirely PG rated. There's no violence, no extreme language, and bedrooms doors - when even mentioned - stay firmly closed.
So when I spotted 'Wish upon a star', complete with Christmassy cover on the Bookbag shelves recently, I jumped at the chance for a little light reading in the festive season.
The book is mostly narrated by Cally, a single mother with a little girl who has a serious heart condition. Her only hope of normality is an expensive operation in the US. It’s a serious subject for a this kind of book, and I suspect it might be uncomfortable reading for anyone who has a child with health problems.
However there's also plenty of everyday life, baking - a regular theme in novels by this author. There's plenty of interaction with a rather overwhelmingly large cast of villagers, and, of course, a light romance. Although the book stands alone, it helped that I had read ‘Chocolate Wishes’ and ‘Chocolate Shoes and Wedding Blues’, since some of the people in those reappeared in this one.
It was a good book to read in a busy period; it took me a while to get into it, but I found myself more and more interested in the various subplots, and thus reading for longer and longer stretches. As always with this author I was mildly irritated by inconsistent use of tenses, but this is less pronounced in this book than in some others. I also felt that some of the day-to-day discussions and repeated activities could have been shortened somewhat - but I don't mind skimming, and I know many readers enjoy this kind of down-to-earth detail.
Overall I enjoyed this book, and would recommend it to anyone who likes light women’s fiction with a more serious undercurrent and a satisfying (if predictable) ending. Available in both paperback and Kindle form, on both sides of the Atlantic.
My longer review of 'Wish upon a star' is now available at The Bookbag.
I hadn't read anything by Jenny Colgan until earlier this year, when I read - and enjoyed - 'The Loveliest Chocolate Shop in Paris'. So when I spotted another of her novels on the Bookbag shelves, it was the work of a moment to ask if I could review it. I was delighted to receive a very attractive hardback, just the thing to read in the run-up to Christmas.
The story is about Rosie Hopkins who lives with her boyfriend Stephen in the village of Lipton. Rosie is a town girl who came to look after her great aunt Lilian a year or so previously. Lilian has moved to a lovely care home, and Rosie runs her traditional sweet shop. Chocolate and sweets seem to be a theme in Jenny Colgan's books.
This book is actually a sequel to one with an equally unwieldy title, ‘Welcome To Rosie Hopkins' Sweetshop Of Dreams’. However, as the author tells us in a prologue, it doesn’t matter. She gives a quick overview of the first book, explaining all that needs to be known, and indeed it proved to be sufficient - mostly. I could get right into the story immediately, but there were some moments when I felt a bit like a newcomer in a room of old friends.
The story moves forward apace, balancing Rosie’s worries with her day-to-day work, and Stephen’s early days as a teacher in the local primary school. The small village setting means that everyone knows everyone else, and it was easy to feel almost as if I were a part of Rosie’s life for a few weeks.
While most of the minor characters are somewhat caricatured, and the plot is full of dramatic, even clichéd situations - including: a nerdy child whose ‘earth mother’ is about to have a new baby, a lovely gay doctor, , a confused elderly man, a threat to the school - it’s a very readable book with one or two quite moving sections.
Fluffy chick-lit? Undoubtedly. It was well-written, and mildly amusing in places, with a bonus of no explicit intimacy, despite a bit more bad language than I’m comfortable with. All in all, it was a pleasant read which I enjoyed, with the added bonus of some simple sweet recipes at the back.
Recommended if you enjoy this kind of light women's fiction. Available in Kindle form as well as hardback; it will be released in paperback too at the end of 2014.
You can also read my longer review of 'Christmas at Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop' on the Bookbag site.
I vaguely remember the ‘Green Knowe’ books by Lucy M Boston from my childhood. They were an unusual mix of adventure and fantasy with some history thrown in, written in the middle of the last century. Apparently there are six books in the series, all based in a large house called ‘Green Noah’ or ‘Green Knowe’, based on the author’s own home.
However I might never have thought of them again - they did not make a huge impression on me - but for the fact that we watched and enjoyed the DVD of 'From Time to Time'. This is an older children's film, which was based on one of the Green Knowe series. So when I spotted this recently re-published volume on the Bookbag site, containing two of the series, I offered to read and review it.
The first book is about a small boy called Tolly who goes to stay with his great-grandmother. Her house, Green Knowe, has ghosts of previous generations the family who lived there. The encounters are quite matter-of-fact, and Tolly learns more about them from Mrs Oldknow. Tolly has not had a happy life before arriving at Green Knowe, and gradually discovers a sanctuary and a friend, despite the enormous age difference between himself and his great-grandmother.
The second book is about two elderly ladies who rent Green Knowe for the summer, and invite three children of around ten or eleven to stay with them. The children - two of them “displaced” refugees - are given free reign to do what they like, so they spend their days in a canoe exploring the nearby river and creating a map of the places and people they find.
This is primarily an adventure story that flows along gently, and is very readable; the theme, again, is of growing friendships and a sense of peace in the old house amidst the explorations and discoveries. The unexpected fantasy thread is more obvious in this - there’s a friendly giant who’s afraid of clowns, magical winged horses, and a long-haired hermit who has vanished from civilisation.
It’s the kind of book I might have read aloud to my sons when they were around eight to twelve, which I guess was the target audience for these books. There’s a lot to think about and discuss, and a slower pace can sometimes work well when reading aloud. Eclectic and fluent readers in that age range might also enjoy it, although the juxtaposition of adventure, history and fantasy might be a bit daunting to those who prefer a clearer genre.
Recommended, on the whole.
You can also read my longer review of this Green Knowe collection on the Bookbag site.
Sometimes it's shocking how time races by. I would have said that it was perhaps three years ago when I first read - and loved - a novel by Sue Moorcroft. Checking this blog, however, I see that it's nearly SEVEN years since I enjoyed 'Uphill all the way', courtesy of The Bookbag.
Unfortunately, none of the author's subsequent books have moved me to quite that extent. The Transita publishing company, which specialised in fiction for the middle aged, apparently went out of business. So Sue Moorcoft started writing for Choc Lit instead, a publisher who apparently aims for a younger audience. However, she is is not a typical ‘chick lit’ writer. Certainly there’s a romantic element to 'Is This Love?', but there’s a great deal more besides.
Tamara is in a comfortable relationship with Max, her childhood sweetheart. She has a place of her own, but spends a great deal of time with her family, including a sister who has never grown up. Lyddie was was hit by a car in her teens, and seriously brain damaged. Now in her thirties, she is like a somewhat hyperactive nine-year-old, passionate about animals, and with no real sense of responsibility. Tamara has built up a small business teaching yoga in the community.
Then her boyfriend, who has been offered a job elsewhere, wants her to move away from the village with him. At the same time, Jed, who was Lyddie’s boyfriend before her accident, appears on their doorstep with a shocking revelation, which Tamara’s mother can’t deal with…
There’s another plot line involving a wealthy young woman with a leg injury who employs Tamara as a private yoga instructor... and gradually things become tense, as I realised that I had no idea who to trust.
Choc Lit heroes are supposed to be as irresistible as chocolate, and that was certainly the case in this book. It was an ideal book for dipping into at bedtime, at least until it became difficult to put down due to the tension!
My only gripe with the book is one I make regularly, that of far too detailed intimate scenes. Admittedly only a couple, but they didn't fit with the otherwise excellent writing in the book, and felt entirely unnecessary. I seem to be a lone voice in this objection, but it does make it very difficult to recommend it wholeheartedly.
Still, other than that, I thought this a very enjoyable light read that was thought-provoking, and also quite memorable. If you like women's fiction, and can deal with (or skip over) bedroom scenes, then I would recommend it highly.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'Is This Love'? at the Bookbag site.
I know one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but I think it’s inevitable to some degree. So when browsing the Bookbag shelves of books available for review, this one leapt out at me. I had not heard of Pam Weaver, but this was clearly a women’s fiction book, probably based in the middle of the 20th century, most likely featuring some young women during or in the aftermath of the war years.
That's pretty much what the book is about, so it was a good cover.
'Pack up your troubles' opens on VE Day. Connie and some friends are on their way to Trafalgar Square to celebrate. She meets some other girls, and gets chatting to Eva. They find themselves parted from the rest of their group, but have fun anyway, including playing in a fountain with some soldiers. Unfortunately, as they discover at the end of the day, they are from families who have sworn enmity and should not even have spoken to each other, let alone become friendly.
Connie has an unpleasant secret in her past, which is hinted at more than once. She is part of a close family, although her brother disappeared some years previously. She is also friendly with some gypsies. One of them starts helping out a local painter.. and later is accused of theft.
Meanwhile Connie starts training as a nurse. A young girl who works for her family receives some nasty anonymous letters. Two young men both decide that they very much like Connie... and a very unpleasant older man appears from time to time.
Yes, there are a lot of different story-lines, loosely related and interwoven. The plot jumped around quite a bit; I don’t know how many times I forgot one of the large cast of characters, and had to remind myself who it was. While I appreciated the positive slant given to the gypsies, their story didn’t really fit with the rest; it could easily have been missed out, as could the part about the family feud.
While Connie is the viewpoint character for most of the story, and likeable enough, I never entirely sympathised with her. I like to have my emotions caught when I read; I was a bit disappointed that this didn’t happen, even in one scene later in the book that should at least have brought a tear to my eye.
Still, the author has evidently done her research thoroughly. From a social history point of view, it’s interesting, and the writing flows well. The way the different subplots gradually converge is cleverly done, although the climax of the book seems a little over-dramatic.
At the end of the book are two short stories. Both were contemporary with mildly amusing twists, and I enjoyed them.
I'm not sure I'll read this again, nor will I be looking for other books by this author, but if you enjoy mid-20th century women's fiction and a complex set of subplots, then this is a pleasant enough read. Link above is to the Kindle version.
My longer review of 'Pack up your troubles' can be found at the Bookbag site.
I've read a few books by Alice Peterson over the past five or six years, since being introduced to one of them by The Bookbag site. So it was the work of the moment to request this one when it appeared on the shelves a few weeks ago.
The author tends to focus on stories in which the protagonists have to come to terms with difficult situations including disabilities, which is something she is well equipped to do: she was struck with a debilitating disease in her late teens, destroying her hopes of being a world class tennis player. Her story is poignantly told in her autobiography, 'Another Alice'.
'By my side' is a novel about Cass, who is a medical student when we first meet her. She loves her work, and she also loves her boyfriend Sean - or thinks she does. Tired, hung over and rather distracted, she walks into the street without noticing a fast-moving lorry coming her way... and her life is forever changed.
It's a story of friendships, of coming to terms with a horrendous situation, and also a growing romance. Cass has wise and caring parents, who help her find a companion dog. Ticket has been trained to do all kinds of things that Cass is no longer able to do on her own, and his loyalty and love bring a spark back to her life. Slowly, with a lot of support, Cass not only finds a purpose in life, but starts to fall for the hunky ski instructor Charlie…
If I have a gripe it's that sometimes the book is a bit too educational. It was interesting to read about organisations whose purpose in life is to help those with disabilities, but I felt that there was just a bit too much factual information which added nothing to the story. There was also more than I was interested in about spinal cord injuries.
Perhaps the ending is a tad too neat and tidy, but then I like threads to be tied up in a novel, and the way ahead at least somewhat clear.
Overall, I thought this a very enjoyable book. The writing is good, the sub-plots woven together well, and I related strongly to Cass. It's a thought-provoking story, and quite moving in places. While there is some fairly frank discussion about what Cass and others may or may not be able to do with their partners, there are - thankfully - no explicit bedroom scenes. While there's a little more bad language than I am comfortable with, it's mostly appropriate in context.
Recommended. Available in paperback in the UK, or in Kindle format on both sides of the Atlantic.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'By my side' at the Bookbag site.
For some reason, I had not previously read any books by Jenny Colgan, despite having read several reviews of her work. They sounded interesting enough that I put a couple on my wishlist, and was then delighted to spot one on The Bookbag site, so I asked for a copy.
The cover of 'The loveliest chocolate shop in Paris' is attractive with a hint of nostalgia, and a 'chick-lit' look about it that was quite appealing. I decided to read it at the airport and on a five-hour flight - and it was ideal for the purpose.
The main character is Anna who has been working as a supervisor at a chocolate factory. She’s 30, and recently split with her boyfriend. Then a freak accident at work, followed by a nasty infection in hospital leaves her unemployed, apathetic and with no idea what her future holds.
While in hospital, Anna becomes friendly with Claire, who - years previously - was her French teacher. To pass the time, Claire teaches Anna some more French and then Claire suggests that she might take a temporary job in Paris with an old friend of hers.
The story is mostly set in the 21st century, following Anna as she sets out into the unknown. But interleaved throughout is the story of Claire’s own adventures in Paris when she was 17. Although the two women are a generation apart in age, and grew up in different circumstances, their stories intertwine beautifully as each begins to experience a new culture. Claire as a teenager was entranced by the chocolate maker Thierry; it’s his shop, now famous throughout France, where Anna is now working. Thierry has become seriously obese as he has grown older, and it’s his son whom Anna finds oddly attractive.
There are romantic threads, but there’s also a lot about French culture, and some detail about the process of chocolate-making. I felt as if I had learned quite a bit, yet at no point did I feel that I was being coerced into education. The writing flows well, and it was an ideal book for me to read on the flight.
Recommended for anyone who likes a story that’s both light and poignant. Available in Kindle form in both the US and UK, as well as paperback.
You can also read my slightly longer review of 'The Loveliest Chocolate Shop in Paris' at the Bookbag site.
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The first time I read a book by Trisha Ashley, I found her somewhat informal writing style a bit difficult to get into, and was irritated by some apparently random switches from past to present tense. But as I got into the story, I enjoyed it more and more. Chick-lit for the middle aged was my overall opinion - and I don’t mean that disparagingly. It was light, free from anything X-rated, and had a positive ending. I found the same to be true of further books I read by this author, and so was delighted to see this one on the Bookbag shelves.
The title of the book, 'Good Husband Material', does not refer to Fergal. He is part of a popular rock band, who is reputed to live a scandalous lifestyle. He is introduced when he recalls his first dramatic meeting with 17-year-old Tish, and their year-long romance.
Most of the book is told from Tish’s point of view, over ten years later She is married to a rather dull solicitor called James, and longs for a place in the country. She writes romantic fiction, and we quickly learn that she was badly hurt by Fergal when he left her to go on tour in America.
Tish falls in love with a country cottage in need of a great deal of renovation. James is not keen, but they move, and start renovating... and things go downhill for their marriage.
It’s fairly clear from the start that Tish’s romance with Fergal will be re-kindled. I felt quite sorry for James at first; however I soon lost any sympathy I had for him: he is thoughtless, snobbish, and something of a male chauvinist.
While the main plot is predictable, there are fascinating observations about village life, and some wonderful minor characters. I particularly liked Tish’s eccentric and outspoken Granny, and I was very taken with the shopkeeper Mrs Deakin, who knows everything about everyone and likes nothing more than a good gossip with her customers. There is a hint of mystery about Tish’s own past, too and also about why James is spending increasing amounts of time away from home.
There’s a bit of humour here and there which made me smile The informal style wasn't too instrusive, and although there are still a few annoying tense-changes, it wasn't a huge deal. I read the second half of the book almost in one sitting and did not get bored for a moment. All in all, I would recommend this as ideal light holiday reading, if you want something undemanding and a bit fluffy.
Apparently this was first published in 2000 but has recently been re-printed in paperback and made available for the Kindle.
You can also read my longer review of Good Husband Material at the Bookbag site.
It’s over seven years since I first came across Joanne Harris. I read her debut novel ‘Chocolat’, set in a small French town called Lansquenet, after reading several enthusiastic reviews. I liked it, on the whole, and often wondered vaguely what happened to Vianne, the chocolate-making and rather mystical heroine, not to mention the people whose lives she affected so deeply.
A couple of years later I read ‘The Lollipop Shoes’ which purported to be a sequel, but really stood alone. It was set in Paris and rather different in style. I liked it, too, but somehow it did not feel as if it involved the same people.
So I was very pleased to read ‘Peaches for Monsier Le Curé’, whch turns out to be a true sequel to 'Chocolat'. Vianne receives an unexpected letter, and decides that she might as well make a visit to Lansquenet with her teenage daughter Anouk and her six-year-old Rosette. They stay in an empty house which belonged to an old friend, and gradually find themselves deeply involved in the lives of people in the town.
Things have moved on in the eight years since Vianne left. There’s quite a community of Muslims, who are involved in various feuds. A young man, who married one of the girls, is trying to insist that they should all wear the traditional veils... yet he seems quite progressive in other ways. And then there’s the woman in black, Ines, who was running a school for Muslim girls until it was burned down...
While the story is mainly written from Vianne’s perspective, there are some sections written from the point of view of Father Reynaud, her old adversary, who has been accused of arson. Both viewpoints are in the first person, and this confused me slightly at first. However, it works well, and is a clever way of giving insight into their minds, along with the growing realisation that they are not so different from each other after all.
The book is full of mysteries and questions which are gradually answered, along with some quite suspenseful plot lines which made it difficult for me to put the book down at times. As with ‘Chocolat’, there’s a mystical element running through the story but I didn't find it disturbing. Whereas some of Joanne Harris’s books have been really too dark for my taste, this one felt much lighter. There's some intriguing and sensitive commentary about both religious and cultural differences between different groups.
It’s quite a long book, over 500 pages and took me a while to get into, but the writing is excellent and I liked it very much. I would recommend reading this as a sequel to ‘Chocolat’; although it stands alone, there are references to prior events, some of which would be harder to understand without having read the first book. However, I don’t think its at all necessary to have read ‘The Lollipop Shoes’.
Recommended.
Note that this appears to have been re-named 'Peaches for Father Francis' in some American editions. This book is available on Kindle as well as in paperback.
You can also read my longer review of 'Peaches for M le Curé' at the Bookbag site.
I hadn't come across the author Linda Green before. Perhaps I would not have done, but when browsing the shelves at The Bookbag, I thought her latest novel, 'The mummyfesto', sounded intriguing. The Amazon synopsis said that it was about three mothers who save a school lollipop lady, then decide to stand for the next general election....
The story is indeed about three women, who meet regularly in the primary school playground. Sam has two sons: Zach, who is seven, and five-year-old Oscar. Anna has two teenagers, Will and Charlotte, and a younger daughter called Esme. Jackie just has Alice. Sadly, Oscar suffers from an incurable muscle-wasting disease, and can only move in a wheelchair. Sam and her partner Rob have to use ventilators and other machines just to keep him alive. Jackie and Anna, too, have stressful lives in various ways.
The book begins with a typical and amusing journey to school for Sam and her sons. Then they hear that the school lollipop lady, is being made redundant. They are horrified and decide to start a petition.. which, with the help of their friends, is wildly successful. They get on the local news and start brainstorming about what they would do if they were politicians. So Sam proposes starting a new political party that puts families first.
Most of the book then follows the rapid rise of the ‘Lollipop’ party, with ideas for its 'mummyfesto' that will suit ordinary people. It's interspersed with events from family life for each of these three women.
The book starts a bit slowly, and I had a hard time distinguishing the difference voices of Anna and Jackie, although Sam stood out as different and very likeable. However, by half way through the story moves rapidly, with difficulties piling high for each family, and towards the end I had to grab a box of tissues. What happened was not unexpected, but very moving.
I do have a few small niggles with the novel. I felt as if there were rather too many important issues just touched upon, with little realistic resolution. I was a disappointed that home education was only mentioned in passing, treated as if it were a poor alternative to school rather than a positive decision. There are a few unlikely scenes and coincidences; none a problem on its own, but by the end I felt there were rather too many.
I felt irritated, too, that there were a couple of unnecessary jibes at God, which were irrelevant to the story. I was also a bit disturbed by the amount of bad language in the book, which means it isn't really suitable for young people, despite the book being quite appropriate otherwise.
Still, these are minor complaints in comparison to the book as a whole. It was amusing in places, highly emotional in others, and written with a great pace. I enjoyed it very much, overall.
Definitely recommended, if you don’t mind the aforementioned niggles. Available in Kindle form as well as paperback.
You can also read my longer review of The Mummyfesto at the Bookbag site.
