Saturday 28 September 2013

Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple - Book Review



Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple is a real pleasure to read. I particularly love the voice of the young narrator, Bee, the 14-year-old daughter of Bernadette.

The story begins with the shocking fact that Bee’s mother, the funny, talented but somewhat volatile Bernadette, is missing. She was last seen just before Christmas, and Bee’s father Elgin, a celebrated Microsoft geek, is refusing to speak about his wife or the disappearance. So Bee decides to investigate and begins to chart the events leading up to Bernadette’s disappearance through emails,  doctor’s and police reports written by people who came in contact with Bernadette and could have had a role to play in her disappearance.

What follows is a hilarious, tragic and poignant tale of Bernadette’s life. Artistically talented and driven, Bernadette has been going through a personal crisis for some time.  Soon after moving to Seattle to support her husband’s new glittering career at Microsoft, she realises how different from everyone else she is and feels ostracised in the forever rainy, suburban Seattle. The well-meaning, but small-minded,  parents of Bee’s school (or Gnats as Bernadette calls them) soon begin to develop a strong resentment against Bee’s mother, which turns into an obsessive hatred. The one person who could help Bernadette, Elgin, remains ignorant of Bernadette’s unhappiness and she becomes more withdrawn. Elgin doesn’t seem to notice that Bernadette hardly ever speaks to anyone, or leaves the house, apart from Bee’s school runs, during which she stays within the confines of her car, wearing dark sunglasses whatever the weather.  Or that she spends all of her days inside an Airstream trailer parked in the garden of the family’s falling-down house.

When Bee wants the whole family to go on a three week cruise to Antarctica, Bernadette panics. How will she able to leave the house and spend three weeks in the company of complete strangers?

Where’d You Go, Bernadette is a brilliantly conceived tale of suburbia, and how the minor setbacks of everyday can turn into major disasters. Telling a story of a 50-year-old woman’s personal crisis through the voice of a 14-year-old would have been problematic had it not been for the injections of the emails and reports written by grown-ups. These ‘real’ documents give the story a multi-layered quality. Reading between the lines of emails written from one (female) parent from Bee’s school to another (the two Gnats) is particularly enjoyable. It’s not what’s said, but what’s not…(I’ve read a few of these in my time).

I gave this book five stars, which is is rare, but I cannot recommend this novel highly enough. Take it on a long journey, or on holiday with you, or read it when you’ve broken your little toe (an every day occurrence).

Friday 27 September 2013

An Awesome Magical Mystery Tour



aia_magicalMTour2

The Awesome Indies is having a Magical Mystery Tour from the 27th to the 30th September. The tour highlights some of the magical and mysterious books listed on the Awesome Indies.

Take the tour for a chance to pick up some special offers and win some awesome prizes at  the blogs participating in the tour. At the end of the tour you get to enter the Giveaway for an  Amazon gift card. (First prize is a $25 card, second prize is $15 and third prizes is a $10 card.)

All you have to do is start at the Awesome Indies, follow the links from blog to blog, read the story and pick up the clue to the mystery key to enter the draw when you get back to the Awesome Indies.

Every book you buy from the tour gets you an extra 5 entries into the draw. Like all books listed on the Awesome Indies, these books have all been checked for quality and approved as being the same standard as mainstream published books.

Start the tour now by clicking HERE

The tour begins at 00.00 hrs on the 27th September  Pacific Daylight Time.


Thursday 26 September 2013

What are your characters wearing?


A few years ago, during a critique session on my MA in Creative Writing course, a fellow student pointed out that I often described what my characters were wearing in some considerable detail. This wasn't a criticism as such, she said, but just something she'd noticed. (We’d had a lot of lessons together as this point) Her own short stories were a completely different style to mine - much more abstract - and she said reading my work made her go back and check that her characters were in fact wearing clothes. That she wasn't inadvertently writing stories with naked people in them.

I was thinking back to this conversation while (trying to) write the sequel to The Englishman, but being constantly distracted by email offers from various online fashion stores. Because, as you may have noticed by now, I am a bit of a fashion addict. Not that I pretend to know anything about fashion, but I love looking at designer clothes.

But I digress. What I wanted to know is, is it important to describe what the characters in a book are wearing?

Obviously, I think so.

What she or he wears says so much about a person, doesn’t it? I don’t wish to put my characters into in neat little boxes according to their clothes (a caricature is a dirty word in writing circles), but I think it’s fun to describe the nuances of a character by their outfits.

In The Englishman, for instance, I needed Kaisa to immediately fall head over heels in love with Peter, so I gave him a sexy uniform to wear when they first meet. (OK, this part of the book was based on actual events, so I didn’t make it up, but you see what I mean?).

In Coffee and Vodka, I described the different characters of the two sisters, Anja and Eeva, in the way they carried their clothes.  Anja is a much more flamboyant and confident girl, while Eeva is a bit of a dreamer and less sure of herself. When the two girls were dressed by their mother in identical stripy Marimekko t-shirts and white trousers, for their ferry journey across to Sweden, Anja’s outfit made her look like a young Brigitte Bardot, while Eeva felt her clothes were too big for her, and shapeless.

In The Red King of Helsinki, Iain, the English naval officer turned spy, struggles to wear clothes warm enough for the harsh Finnish winter, while my seventeen-year-old sleuth, Pia, is highly fashion conscious. Pia’s clothing oozes confidence while Peter’s lack of weather awareness shows a worrying level of incompetence.

Of course clothes and the fashions of the time serve well in reminding the reader of the period the book is set in.  Because the story in Coffee and Vodka straddles two eras, it was important for me to dress Eeva appropriately when we meet her as a grown-up (professional, compassionate teacher of Swedish). Later I also use her clothes to show how her attitude to herself and to the people around her change. I won’t reveal any more of the plot, because I don’t want to spoil the ending, but if you’ve read the book, I’m sure you’ll see what I mean.

So, while I’m just nipping over to Net-a-Porter to check out today’s new arrivals, instead of writing, I’ll be secure in the knowledge that this is just research, and not at all a pleasure...

What do you think? Is it important to know what the characters in a  book are wearing?

What kind of character
would wear this Miu Miu spotted coat?
Image: www.netaporter.com



Sunday 22 September 2013

Radio silence and a poorly back

It's been a while since I posted something but it isn't that I've forgotten about you all.

No, it's my back once again.... Yes, I know it's getting a little boring now, but bear with me, normal blogging service will soon be resumed. (I am seeing a wonderful osteopath).

However, to make matters worse, yesterday I also managed to stub my little toe. Not quite sure how it happened but it involved a Marimekko bag, an overflowing bedroom floor and a manoeuvre trying to do something quickly while also trying to avoid any sudden movement of the back. (Before you ask, no alcohol had been consumed while making this manoeuvre). My little toe got caught in the strap and buckle of the bag and although at first I though nothing of it, the pain in the toe became more insistent, and inspecting it, I noticed I'd acquired a nasty purple left little toe twice the size of its counterpart on my right leg.

So, now my lovely readers, I am sitting here with my toe wrapped up and my left leg up on a chair, trying to work on my laptop while keeping my spirits up. (What is happening to me???)

But there is some good news: while writing is difficult in these conditions (and on painkillers), I am able get on with formatting The Englishman ready for publication in paperback. This, fortunately, is a task that requires a little less concentration than writing. Wish me luck because this little piggy won't be going to market otherwise!

A poorly toe to go with the poorly back.



Wednesday 4 September 2013

Feeling Homesick


I've recently come back from Tampere in Finland, from a surprise trip arranged at the last minute due to a family crisis. I won't go into what that was, but I ended up being in my hometown for a week, visiting areas of the city which I just haven't had the reason to go to for a long time. Each day of my visit I drove past my old primary school, the woods where we cross country skied in the winter, and the area where our family home was, before we moved to Stockholm. 

During this time in Tampere I also once again marveled at how the city has changed. The two main factories, Finlayson and Tampella no longer produce cotton or machinery, instead the areas have been developed into cultural centres and high quality residential areas. Many old apartment blocks are receiving facelifts; even the train station now has a set of escalators and some lifts. (I know, they've probably been there for a years, but it was the first time I'd noticed them).


When I got back London, after all was OK with family, I found myself thinking how I could arrange my life so that I could live in Tampere. This, from the girl who swore she'd never go back there, or who has for months now been considering applying for British passport (I'm coming clean - I haven't done it yet!).

It helped that the weather in Tampere was glorious. The sun was shining every day, transforming the colour of the lakes into the brightest blue. Each way I looked there was water. One morning I went for a jog and ran past beautiful houses, into the woods along the shores of Lake Näsijärvi, and thought how wonderful it would be to be able to do this every day. The place was so peaceful, so calm, yet it only took a few minutes to reach the city centre by (a regular and not crowded) bus service. To think that I’d be able to have a sauna every day, or that no-one would ask me if I was in bad mood if I didn’t smile all the time!



When I came back to London, on the first morning the tube was hot and packed. On my way home the very same day, our local station was closed due to overcrowding, so I ended up, together with hundreds (perhaps thousands?) of other people, taking the long way round, adding an extra hour to my journey home. Why do I live in a sardine tin of a city like London, I wondered, as I tried to keep my nose out of a particular smelly armpit in another full-to-bursting tube carriage.

At the weekend I went to Harris and Hoole in Crouch End for a coffee and the girl behind the desk asked, after mishearing my name as Elena, if I was Italian. ‘No,’ I said, ‘Are you?’ ‘Yes,’ the girl answered, adding with sad look in her eyes, ‘I’ve just come back.’ I looked at her and replied, ‘I’ve just come back from my home town in Finland and keep wondering what an earth I’m doing living in London.’ She laughed and nodded.

So many of us displaced people feel the same homesickness. Yet, here we stay.

Tuesday 3 September 2013

Comedy Downstairs at the King's Head





Last Saturday, on the spur of the moment, and because of The Englishman's recent interest in stand-up comedy (more about this later in the year), we decided to check out the Comedy Cabaret Downstairs at The King's Head. I'd heard great many good things about the acts that perform there, so I was very surprised when we got tickets at the door an hour before the 8.30 pm performance. Thus convinced that we were in no hurry to grab a good seat, we went off to have some pan-Asian food at the nearby Tootoomoo (a review coming soon).



But later when we descended the stairs at quarter past eight, the place was packed. The only available seats were either behind a pillar or right by the stage. Guess which one we (or rather I) opted for? We regretted that decision as soon as the compare, the excellent and hilariously funny, Dominic Frisby, started ripping into our similarly naive neighbours. ('Told you so,' whispered the Englishman in my ear) I think we got off quite lightly. Dominic asked us what we did for a living and I even got in a plug about my novel, The Red King of Helsinki. Not bad work, eh?

Dominic Frisby
The rest of the acts that followed Dominic Frisby were equally good, and we laughed like drains most of the night. My particular favourite was Toby Williams, who under the alias (I presume it was an alias, because this is how he was billed) of George Ryegold, did a really convincing series of sketches in a role of a disgraced doctor. There is embarrassment galore in people's illnesses anyway, and playing a delusional GP who's been struck off the register worked beautifully for the set. I really liked Ryegold's understated delivery, and his act made me think of Krister Henriksson's performance in Dr Glas. Comedy is just the other side of the coin from a tragedy?

The next day I spotted Williams/Ryegold on TV. He's the brilliant vet in the Specsavers ad about a (not so) dead cat. It's a small world for comedians.


We will definitely got to a Cabaret Night again, and will also check one of the Comedy Try Out nights for new acts.

Downstairs at The King's Head
2 Crouch End Hill
London
N8 8AA

Tickets are £11/7 for the Comedy Cabaret and £4/3 for Comedy Try Out Nights.