Review: Did You See Melody

Did You See Melody?

I’ve read a few thrillers this year, which is pretty excellent actually because I love a good thriller. I really actually do. I think I say this every time I come to review one, like, there’s some weird part of me that feels like a can’t possibly write a review unless I’ve made it absolutely clear that DO YOU KNOW I REALLY LIKE THRILLERS AND I WISH I READ MORE OF THEM. What’s that about. Anyway, whatever, it is what it is and like every other time it segues (oooh good use of ‘segue’) nicely into this little chat about Sophie Hannah’s Did You See Melody which I read over the Easter weekend on my great Easter readathon. Hush. I know it was only 3 books and I care not a jot. I am totally calling it a readathon and thou shalt not raineth on my readthon-esque parade.

Anyhow. The book.

Review: We Come Apart

I read three books over Easter weekend. Three. I cannot remember the last time I read three books in one weekend and actually I’m not entirely sure how I managed it this particular weekend because man, I did a lot of things over Easter. So many of the things, roadtrips and walks and food and drink and family visits and fun on the park and somehow in amongst all of that I still squeezed in three whole books.

Clearly reading is my superpower and WHY DO I NOT HAVE THAT ON A TSHIRT ALREADY? Next stop: Redbubble.

Soooooooooo. This post was going to be a bookish catch up post because that seemed to make the most sense to me right now except that when I sat down and started talking about We Come Apart I realised I had quite a bit to say and that if I had the same amount to say about the other two than this post would be wordy. So I’m not going to talk about them all right now other than to say that all three of these books were good books and I have things to say about them all.

Review: The Trouble With Goats and Sheep

The Trouble With Goats and Sheep

Ah, The Trouble With Goats and Sheep. Question: have you ever wanted to hug a book? Like, to wrap it up in your arms and just squeeze it, in the way those slightly over zealous relatives would hug you when you were a child, so that you screwed up your face and were sure you’d cracked a rib or three? I want to hug this book. I want to hug it, and then like Cyrus Rose in Gossip Girl I want to say ‘not enough, not enough’ and hug it some more. I loved it.

It’s set in the great English heatwave of 1976, which, well it actually for reals was hot that summer, just ask any English person who was around then. Not me. I wasn’t born but that summer was hot enough that I’ve heard about it. We’ve not had a summer like that since. So I’m told. Anyhow, it’s set that summer when Grace (aged 10) and her pal Tilly decide to search the avenue for Mrs Creasy who has gone missing, and also for God. I love that, there’s something just so endearingly innocent about it you know, about these two children who think they can just Solve All The Mysteries. They’re so serious about it, this isn’t just a game to them, this is not a way to pass the time or Keep Out of Trouble. They actually believe 100% that both God and Missing Mrs Creasy are can be found and they’re the ones who can do it and it made me miss being 10 and the summer holidays and those endless days stretching out in front of you and how actually grown up you actually thought you were even though actually you obviously totally weren’t at all.

Review(ish): Not A Book. A Show

Things I review: books.

Things I don’t review: everything else. Like theatre shows.

That’s just a thing, I just don’t ever. Mostly because I can talk about books and what I like and don’t like and not look like a dick, or if I do look like a dick (which I might) then I don’t really care that much because I’m confident enough about what I do and don’t like and what I do and don’t know to throw my opinions out there in the general direction of The Internets and not be all that bothered whether anyone else agrees.

When it comes to anything else though I’m not sure I can get beyond ‘yes nice I like it’ and ‘yak 0/10 do not recommend’ and so I just…don’t. Hush. I see you there, reading this at your computer screen eyebrows raised quizzically and wondering what, actually, I am talking about because all of these words, do they even have a point?

Review: Paper Butterflies

Paper Butterflies

This book made me cry. For real. Actual tears people, actual tears. I read it on holiday, alone in my hotel room after a day skiing. Or rather, I started it on the plane and then finished it in my hotel room and I had to text my friend and tell him I needed rescuing because I had a massive sad. When he rang me to ask what on earth I was talking about I burst into tears, which, well way to go Jo, way to go.

‘What’s it about,’ he asked me when he came to save me and take me for vin chaud, and then ‘Jesus Christ’ when I told him.

‘What happens in the end?’

I don’t know,’ I told him, ‘I’ve got a few percent left to go.’

Then a pause….’is it not a true story?’

‘No.’

And then he laughed, because (and this is not the first time this has happened) it's apparently hilarious that I can get so emotionally attached to things and people that aren’t even real, except of course they totally are real in my head and I kind of feel like it’s a testament to how good a book is, if it can move me like that.

Blog Tour: The Method

Ooooh! Another blog tour!!

The Method

Imagine a helpless, pregnant 16-year-old who’s just been yanked from the serenity of her home and shoved into a dirty van. Kidnapped Alone Terrified.

Now forget her

Picture instead a pregnant, 16-year-old, manipulative prodigy. She is shoved into a dirty van and, from the first moment of her kidnapping, feels a calm desire for two things: to save her unborn son and to exact merciless revenge. 

She is methodical calculating scientific in her plotting. A clinical sociopath? Leaving nothing to chance, secure in her timing and practice, she waits for the perfect moment to strike. 

The Method  is what happens when the victim is just as cold as the captors. 

I know, right?! Sounds excellent. And it was really really good, I liked it a whole lot. I couldn’t wait to start it and then I couldn’t wait to finish it….and that sounds bad, like I didn’t like it. I did like it. What I mean I think is that I couldn’t put it down. I was so hooked, because this is such a unique take on your usual thriller. I have never read an abduction story like this and isn’t that a pretty cool thing to be able to say as a writer – that your book is like no other.. It’s so clever and so inspired to have a victim that also kind of isn’t actually willing to be a victim at all. So clever.

Review: Behind Her Eyes

Behind Her Eyes

Don’t Trust This Book

Don’t Trust These People

Don’t Trust Yourself

And whatever you do, DON’T give away that ending…

I like Sarah Pinborough. I like her Twitter account, which makes me feel like we should be pals, and (more importantly) I also like her writing. I read The Death House in 2015  and Thirteen Minutes last year and I loved them both so I was ridiculously excited about Behind Her Eyes as soon as I heard it was going to be a thing, and then there was the whole hashtag thing going on – and whoever does Sarah’s publicity deserves a high five because this book has been all over my twitter for the longest time and the buzz generated by #wtfthatending has been pretty remarkable. It was like a secret gang and I totes wanted in.

I finally got round to reading it last week, and it’s the worst isn’t it when it takes you so long to read a book you really want to read; when it’s always there at the back of your mind and you just. can’t. get. to. it. Anyway, I started it one night about 10pm in a hilariously misguided ‘I’ll just read the first chapter’ which resulted in me not turning the light off til 11.30 and then thinking about it all the next day and stopping up waaaaay too late again the next night and it’s a problem really. It’s a problem because I need my sleep. All the sleep, I need it. I wasn’t working on Friday last week, so stopping up too late reading wasn’t as bad as it had been the night before but still, I had plans. Only with myself but still, there were plans.

I went to Skipton because I was going to be one of those ladies that mooches around pretty market towns being all carefree and stuff, but I had my Kindle in my bag and there was a Starbucks and I accidentally sat down with a coffee and read the last 30% because I could not stop with the page turning and then all of a sudden I’d finished the book and done zero mooching and it was time to head home again to hang with my bestie. Whoops. Not that I’m really complaining because in actuality, is there a better way to spend your day off than in a coffee shop with a good book? I think not.

Anyway.

This book.

It’s about Louise –  a single Mum in a bit of a rut who kisses a guy(David) on a night out, only to find out when she gets to work on Monday that the guy is her new boss. Her new married boss. I know, right. It gets better though, because Adele,  the new friend that Louise has just made? Yep, that’s David’s wife and trust me on this, you might think you can predict where this story is going. BUT YOU CAN’T.

First off the ending, and never has there been such an accurate hashtag because erm, #wtfthatending. AKA #wtfhow. It’s super good. It’s creepy and chilling and dark and so gripping. It’s twisty and turny and you know some serious shit is going to go down but you’re never quite sure what its’s going to be and you get totally drawn into this incredibly well -crafted story of lies and deceit and fucked up levels of control and you can’t relax at all because you don’t trust anybody and you don’t really like anybody all and it’s the most wonderful kind of messed up.

It’s obvious from the beginning that things are so far from right and the secrets are sort of just there, you can practically taste them, but you can’t quite reach them and you do have to suspend reality quite a bit and I don’t want to say too much about that either but basically, I loved it.

Mostly I loved it because just when I thought I’d sussed it, something else happened that had me thinking ‘what the fuck oh ok maybe not then.’ I mean, never has a character gone from being bad guy to good guy and back again as many times as David did in this book. It’s so clever and the characterisation is so freaking good – Adele especially. As character she’s freaking excellent, the kind of character you just don’t get to see enough of. Actually, this book as a whole is the kind of thing you just don’t get to see enough of. The story in itself is something else but what made it for me is what Sarah Pinborough does with words because the characters whilst excellent aren’t likeable and the story is nutso and it jumps back and forwards so much that a lesser writer would only leave you feeling a little seasick but Sarah Pinborough can write and she unravels this tale so beautifully and so cleverly and I was kind of mesmerised actually. And there is so much I want to say but I am afraid to because I don't want to accidentally give anything away but it’s out now and you should get involved.

If We Were Having Coffee

So I saw an excellent blog post recently, and I feel like a terrible person because I can’t remember where and I wanted to link back to it so as not to just be an idea stealer. Although, I’m pretty sure they’d seen the idea someplace else anyhow so perhaps it’s ok, and it’s not like I’m taking credit for it anyway, just sort of saying ‘kudos, that’s awesome, I’m going to have a go at that….’

The feature was called If We Were Having Coffee and it’s pretty much just a chance for me to talk at you about things that are on my mind that may not always be book related because sometimes I like to try and shake things up a bit. Who knows, if I like it I might make it a semi regular thing. I say semi regular because hello look at my blog please, there’s nothing regular about it: I am shamefully sporadic at best.

A Quick(ish) Catch Up

I’m pretty grumpy today, mostly because it’s freezing cold and I’m not caffeinated enough and also because I got up late and didn’t have time to straighten my hair (think Hermione circa CoE) – or I guess I could have straightened my hair but then I would have had to drive to work and I’m trying not to drive to work because I keep eating Crème Eggs and large(r) lunches and If I’m going to do that I need to do walking and so I’m sat in the office in a hoody with mahoosive hair and that’s fine, normally but today I got an unexpected visit from a supplier I am in a battle with and not only did I not know they were coming, the girl was also all high heels and smart suit and perfect hair and makeup and I’m looking the most unprofessional ever and felt totally wrong footed. I’m grumpy about it. Glamourous people scare me. & holy run on sentence, batman. & I have one of those hurty pieces of skin sticking out of my nail bed, you know the ones? OUCH. Ill probably rip it off later and it will bleed and hurt more and I’ll have regrets. Such is life.

Blog Tour: Burned and Broken

I’ve always liked a good detective novel. I used to power through the Dalziel and Pascoe books like nobody’s business when I was a teenager and OK, maybe I don’t read as much crime fiction these days as I used to, but I still like to get all engrossed in one every now and then. That’s why I jumped at the chance to get involved in this blog tour, actually: Burned and Broken looked like being A Good Read. It was nice to go back to a police procedural, in this world of the psychological thriller.