Clouds' Cloudscapes

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my BEDTIME STORIES list.

I have a little boy and love reading to him, so this reading list will cover the classic (and new) children’s stories we’re enjoying together.

A really good read-aloud story, with great rhythm, rhyme and repetitive elements. My son is 16 months old, and Room on the Broom is currently his second favourite book - he goes and gets it himself from his book shelf most days, which is really cute.

Admittedly his favourite book in the whole wide world is a bland little story about monkeys - but it does have a button which makes monkey noises when you press it, so I can see the appeal!

Noisy books aside, this is the best. He likes to point at the witch and the cat and the dog and the bird and the frog. He likes to mimic the dramatic, booming, Brian Blessed-esque voice I used for the 'down came the broom' line, around which each verse hinges.

And you can never get them started on fantasy too young - good witches and bad dragons - perfect! We'll get him reading Tolkien before he's ten...

After this I read: Animals Scare Me Stiff

Reposted by the author's request, this review was originally written by Manny Rayner:

***

The review below was deleted by Goodreads, along with two others. I received the following message:

Re: [#104307] Deleted Reviews
Goodreads
To Me
Oct 11 at 8:41 PM
Hello Manny,

Your reviews of the following books were recently flagged by Goodreads members as potentially off-topic:

That's Not What I Meant!
Civil Disobedience and Other Essays (Collected Essays)
The Hydra

As the reviews are not about the books in question, they have been removed from the site. You can find the text of the reviews attached for your personal records.

Please note that if you continue to post content like this, your account may come under review for removal.

Sincerely,
The Goodreads Team

In accordance with the hydra principle, I am now reposting it. Maybe Goodreads will indeed retaliate by removing my account. If so, it's been nice knowing you all!
__________________________________

Much as I enjoy childishly flinging dung at the other guys, I wondered whether it might not also be interesting to try and approach the current Goodreads mini-crisis in a constructive way. I don't actually know what's going on, and of course it may be the case that the Goodreads management are taking orders from Amazon, STGRB and our lizard overlords. But let's just for a moment consider the possibility that this could be a breakdown in communication between two essentially well-meaning parties with reasonable goals.

On that admittedly far-fetched hypothesis, one might argue that the Goodreads management basically want not much more than to reserve the right to delete posts which are genuinely dangerous: rape threats, extreme cyberbullying, and similar. The enraged reviewers, similarly, don't want much more than to know that their posts will not be arbitrarily deleted without warning. If this is really what's going on, it's conceivable that we might reach a compromise satisfactory to both sides.

If the Goodreads management only want to be able to remove dangerous posts, it seems to me that they have chosen a poor way to implement their strategy. The current rules, as stated in the Terms of Use, make no sense. In particular, according to Article 2, users must agree to absurd conditions, like - clause (i) - "not posting User Content that may create a risk of harm, loss, physical or mental injury, emotional distress, death, disability, disfigurement, or physical or mental illness to you, to any other person, or to any animal". Virtually any content I post will create some risk of causing emotional distress to someone, so it is impossible for me to comply with this rule. The Goodreads management are indeed within their rights if they want to remove content, but they have achieved that end by creating a situation in which virtually everyone is arguably breaking the rules. They have now exacerbated the situation by creating new rules defining content which will be deleted immediately and without warning. The new rules make even less sense than the old ones, and are not being applied systematically. This is surely not a good solution.

As several people have already pointed out, a more honest and straightforward way to write the ToU would be for Goodreads simply to say that they reserve the right, at their discretion, to remove any content, in particular content which they reasonably consider may cause physical, emotional or economic injury to another member of the site. In order to protect the expectation on the part of members that content will not be arbitrarily deleted, they would in addition pledge, except in extraordinary circumstances, not to remove content without giving users adequate warning and an explanation. This was until very recently the de facto policy, and it seemed to work well. It was not however part of the formal rules.

We have plenty of lawyers among our reviewers. I wonder if someone with the necessary skills could draft a couple of paragraphs intended to replace the current Article 2 with something along the basic lines of the above, so that we had a concrete alternative to discuss. My guess is that it wouldn't need to be very long or complicated. If it were done in a sensible and timely fashion, there might be a chance of reaching an amicable solution before people start leaving in earnest.

Or of course we could just continue as we are now. Destruction is also beautiful and satisfying in its way.

I have no intention of reading this books because the author wears odd socks and refuses to give money to the homeless - even if they DANCE for it! Plus, I totally saw him making out with Brad in the Dog & Bull last week.

//Flagged, yes?

In support of this protest review by Manny.

My wife pointed out that my last protest review was focused on attributes of the author, rather than behaviours, which is apparently the type of thing that inspired our beloved new policy. They haven't yet removed my last one, so perhaps I wasn't breaking the rule completely? This is a more accurate attempt at defying the nonsensical policy.

I have no intention of reading this books because the author was a Taurus, and I just don't trust those Venusian bulls. Also - he was born on a SATURDAY! I mean, 'nuff said, right?

//Flagged, yes?

In support of the many Mein Kampf protest reviews - particularly Nandakishore Varma & Traveller.

Review to follow.

Review to follow.

After this I read: Leviathan

I did not love it.

Proper review to follow.

After this I read: I Shall Wear Midnight

I loved it.

Proper review to follow.

After this I read: Pay the Piper

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my LOCUS Y-A list.

I think I’ll always have a soft-spot for imaginative young-adult speculative fiction and as the good people at Locus did such a grand job with picking their Sci-Fi winners, I’ll trust them to single out some special y-a books too.

I've never tried to write a review on my phone before, but my darling wife has just reinstalled Warcraft for the first time since Fin was born and has claimed the PC for the foreseeable future, so I guess I'd better practice. (iPhone autocorrect keeps trying to rename my son Gin. This tickles me.)

This is book two in the Tiffany Aching sequence. Isn't sequence the perfect word? Discworld is a series of books, but its weaved of many smaller series within that (witches, guards, Death, Rincewind, etc) - and aside from "series within the bigger series", I've never known the right way to describe them. But the back of this book describes it as book two in the Tiffany Aching sequence and that's the perfect word. It filled a little void in my vocabulary.

So - I think of A Hat Full of Sky as 'the one with the Hiver'. The Hiver is an invisible, magic beastie that possesses people and send them bonkers. Tiffany accidentally lets it into her head and has to watch as a helpless passenger as it takes her body on a rampage (which is a lot of fun - read the scene where she turns a shop assistant into a frog and a 'balloon'!) Then Tiffany has to battle the beastie out of her bonce, with a little assistance from the legendary Granny Weatherwax. The big symbolic climax with the horse carving breaking free from the chalk was... immense! I was proper choked-up.

I've never met a Pratchett story I didn't like and this one maintains that fine record. I think the Tiffany books lack a little of the depth and/or whimsy that my very favourite Discworld books have, but they're also signficantly better than the weaker Discworld books. Overall, they're excellent YA books that I'm very happy to highly recommend.

After this I read: Ship Breaker

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my LOCUS Y-A list.

I think I’ll always have a soft-spot for imaginative young-adult speculative fiction and as the good people at Locus did such a grand job with picking their Sci-Fi winners, I’ll trust them to single out some special y-a books too.

A toast from Rob Anybody:

Ack! Crivens! What a bonnie wee hag, our wee hag is!

Terry Pratchett is the finest gonnagle this side of the chalk, ye ken? For a bigjob, as that. He’s got the knowing of the plot-weaving, and the unner-standin’ of the free dimensional characters. An tha’s a fine thing too, ‘cos them character dimensions d’nae be coming cheap! He knows his ups from his downs, his coos from his ships, and his hags from his quins, good an proper. An he give us all some licker, in silver thimbles too, like a real, right polite nob.

We Nac Mac Feegle ain’t known for our way with words – unless them words be fighting, stealing and drinking – but there are two ver’rae important words the kelda made me promise to remember if anyone ever asked about this book tha’ bigjob Terry has writ about our very own hag of the hills. It’s a kind of geas, ye ken? Ver’rae important. Those words be: REED IT.

Now, if ye dirty, great scunners are done – I’ll be getting back to the shindig.

Thanks, Rob. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Pratchett is the King – as y’all should know by now. He is my Mr Reliable, and I’m kicking myself that I ever doubted it. For some reason, I thought I didn’t like this book. I know I started it, back in my student days, but I didn’t finish it. I can’t remember exactly why I didn’t finish the book, but for now let’s chalk it down to some kind of debauched, hedonistic rampage (involving drugs, sex, rock’n’roll and rhinos) – but the upshot was an assumption (and you know what they say about those). I assumed that if I didn’t finish it, it can’t have been all that good. Yes, I know, I’m dumber that Daft Wullie – no need to point it out.

When I finished my Locus Sci-Fi quest and decided to spread my wings, I took the Locus YA award into the fold. There were three Tiff Aching books on this list – and I made number four an honorary member of the list ‘cos I’m a completionist like that. I wasn’t that excited about them due to the aforementioned daftness, so I started with Wintersmith, book three in the series, because I happened to already own it. And y’know what, it’s great! But that’s a different review!

My point is... aw, shucks, I have no idea any more!

The Wee Free Men is great. Tiffany Aching is a great addition to the Discworld family and arguably the strongest stand-alone hero Sir Terry has ever created. She certainly puts Rincewind to shame! She’s the heir to Granny Weatherwax, except she’s got a gang of mental fairies for a sidekick, instead of Nanny Ogg. She’s tough, smart, grounded and curious – everything an independent young heroine should be. And she knows that life ain’t like the storybooks, even when it seems like you’re in one (did anyone else smell the metafic in the air?).

The story itself is excellent – going on a quest into fairyland to rescue the Baron’s son – executed with the trademark flair, profundity and genre satire we’ve come to expect from the great man.

So why didn’t it get 5 stars? Gee, I’m not really sure. It certainly wasn’t miles away. Star ratings are always a gut reaction from me, and this is a solid 4-star. ‘Nuff said.

After this I read: A Hat Full of Sky

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.

Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.

Dan Simmons is a man of many styles. His most acclaimed works, and the books I adore, are big, complex sci-fi epics with classic literary references entwined throughout. See the Hyperion Cantos and Ilium/Olympus. These are my very favouritest type of books and Ilium in particular inspired me to start my reading list quests, and to share that experience on Goodreads. So thank-you for your awesomeness Mr Simmons!

But Dan-the-man also writes psychologically tense little modern-era horror stories, such as Song of Kali and The Hollow Man – indeed, it was with this kind of novel that he launched his career and won his first awards. These are good books, very much worth reading, but they don’t quite hit the sweet spot for me in the same way as his sci-fi.

Then we come to the third category, into which this book falls – a kind of merging of the two above: big, detailed, historical, creeping-gothic-horror tales, with just a dash of fantasy elements. Our examples here are The Terror and Drood. The Terror was my least-favourite Simmons novel so far – not to say it’s a bad book, just a bit bloated for me, but that’s a different review – but it meant that I came to Drood with some hesitancy. I was looking to be convinced.

I wasn’t disappointed. Whereas The Terror was kinda slow-going, Drood kicks off with a bang. Charles Dickens is in a rail crash! Several carriages jump the rails on a bridge and drop, smashing into the ravine below. Dickens’ carriage is left swinging over the drop, but like the badass hero he is, Charlie D climbs out of his carriage, rescues the ladies within, then climbs down into the ravine to aid the survivors of the crash. Amidst this carnage we meet the title character, Drood – a noseless creep with pointy teeth who wears a black cloak. This guy is like an escapee from a Hammer horror movie, but here he is in broad daylight being creepy as heck.

The story is narrated by Wilkie Collins – Dickins’ friend/collaborator/rival. I’m not normally a fan of the unreliable narrator device because I don’t like trying to double-guess a tale – but here Simmons does it so boldly that I couldn’t help but smile. Wilkie drinks laudanum (opium tincture) by the glass. We’re not talking about a few drops in his wine to help him get to sleep – we’re talking a good, regular slurping. Laudenum can bring on hallucinations, and Collins accepts the reality of a girl with green skin and tusks instead of teeth haunting his servants' stairway. So – to put it in modern parlance – our narrator is tripping-balls. Which puts something of a slant on his story.

The story itself is... difficult to describe succinctly. It’s about the relationship between Collins and Dickens. It’s also about Dicken’s relationship with the underworld-hypnoist-criminal-mastermind, Drood. It’s also about Collins’ descent into madness. It’s got some very gothic overtones (but good gothic, tense and cryptic – not hyperbolic gothic, like Lovecraft, which I find grating).

It’s not a perfect book – like The Terror, I felt it could lose a couple of hundred pages without significant detriment – but for all that, I never felt bored. I always wanted to get back to my book, and whenever anyone asked if it was good, I never hesitated to say yes. But it’s a difficult, awkward, antagonistic style of storytelling and it’s a long way from comfort/popcorn reading. It’s weird, but it’s also kind of wonderful and enthralling.

Even the ending – which at one point I thought was going to be a kind of ‘it was all just a dream’ cop-out – didn’t disappoint. It frustrated, sure, but that’s par for the course.

In case anyone feels you need to have read Dickens and/or Collins work to get the references within Drood, I’m sure it would add an extra level of resonance, but I haven’t read any of either, and I enjoyed this tale plenty without them.

One final point – for anyone who was a big fan of The Terror, there’s a nice tie-in towards the beginning of this book where Dickens and Collins write and perform a play based on the disappearance of HMS Terror.

All-in-all, Drood is a fascinating and enthralling read - a solid 4-star recommendation.

After this I read: The Wee Free Men

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.

I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.

Somehow, Shards of Honor didn’t hit the sweet spot in the same way as every other Vorkosigan Saga novel that I’ve read. It’s good – this is a very comfortable three stars, about a 3.3 – but I still ended up a little disappointed because she’s since set the bar so high.

I’ve been reading the series in a totally higgledy-piggledy order, but this was the first, and like with some of my favourite long running series, it feels strange to go back to the beginning. The Colour of Magic doesn’t read anywhere near as smoothly as something like Night Watch. Likewise, Storm Front lacks the confidence of Changes. So it's no surprise that Shards of Honor takes far fewer risks than Mirror Dance.

Please don’t take this to suggest in any way that this is a bad book – it’s not – please, read it, love it, join me in wearing a little Vorkosigan liveried cheerleaders outfit! It’s a fantastic series. For a debut, it sure ain’t bad. But they get better from here on in, that’s all.

This is the story of how Aral and Cordelia, Miles’ parents, met and fell in love, back in the midst of Barrayar’s failed invasion of Escobar. From a space-opera point of view, there’s some great scenes here, in particular I’m thinking of: the vampire balloons and predatory crabs (hostile creatures on an alien planet), the action scenes as Cordelia saves Aral’s ship from a mutiny and escapes back to her own in one fell swoop, the political intricacies of the invasion, and the whole chain of events around Elena’s conception (simultaneously disturbing and pathetic). The contrast between Barrayar and Beta is played out very well, and there are some great cameos from established players – we get to see Kou and Illyan when they were young and there’s even a scene with Mayhew (the pilot from The Warrior’s Apprentice). This is all good, fun, eminently readable stuff and definitely essential reading for anyone (like me) who came in further down the tracks.

But it suffered (for me) from a lack of real tension. Miles is always fighting this massive uphill battle, he always takes on challenges way, way out of his league – and wins! That’s why we love him. In Barrayar, Cordelia is stuck on a new planet, trying to understand, adapt, and flourish amid a revolution – again, huge challenge. While the odds here may be stacked against Aral and Cordelia’s relationship, these are two hugely competent adults, both fighting for the same thing – the situation is complex, but it never felt beyond them – I was never surprised by their achievements. And while Cordelia definitely has some great moments of wry humour, she spent a lot of this book with her head in a spin, and doesn’t deliver as many insightful/analytical zingers as in Barrayar, or her appearances in latter books. My final complaint is the rape/torture aspect of the plot – it just felt a little cheap, a sort of ‘perfect way to demonstrate evilness in the baddie’, rather than an integral part of Cordelia’s own journey. Just my two-cents.

Shards of Honor is a bit cheesey, a touch patchy, but still a lot of fun and well worth the read. I picked up my copy second hand for less than the price of a sandwich – b-b-b-bargain!


After this I read: Drood

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.

Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.

In a parallel universe, not too dissimilar to our own, there lives a man (not too dissimilar to myself - but wearing a new, striped, green shirt instead of this well-loved and mottled blue one) who gave The Book Thief five shiny gold stars. He loved every heart-rending second of his time with Liesel Meminger, and when he closed the pages for the final time, a single tear was released to make a slow but determined descent down the curve of his cheek.

I could feel the ghost of that world next-door, reading over my shoulder. I could feel that passionate response as a tremor in the walls, like the neighbours having a noisy party. It was close, but however much I hoped and held my breath, the cigar was never forthcoming.

I didn’t love it; sorry, y’all. I liked it well enough, and I can respect the talent, craft and heart that went into the telling – but the chemistry just wasn’t there for me.

Partly, I think my opinion was influenced by the juxtaposition of The Book Thief with the novel I’d just read before it, My War Gone By, I Miss It So. That comparison did not fall out in Zusak’s favour. My War Gone By is a down’n’dirty true story of the Bosnian war and it was an instant hit with me. It’s a straight-up, truth in your face, take it or leave it, confession story. Zusak’s tale is the carefully sculpted tragedy of a wonderfully special little girl growing up in Nazi Germany, narrated poetically by Death. It’s a great concept and a flawless execution, but to me, at that time, if I’m brutally honest, it felt conceited, ingenuous, and... smug.

When I first finished The Book Thief, I gave it four stars because it really is beautiful writing. But when I was talking to friends about the book I found it harder and harder to summon any enthusiasm. If you can’t tell, I’m still rather confused why we didn’t gel. All the ingredients were right, and yet somehow it’s ended up tasting bland.

Some of the prose is of my favourite type, whimsical, childish, and magical – but the story itself is gritty, sombre and filled with everyday heroism. Damn it! I should have loved this book. I feel like I missed out. But there are plenty more bookies out there that do tickle my tastebuds.

If you love this book and would like to read a review which resonates – check out Natalyia’s (it’s fantastic) – it was that review which got me psyched about the book.

I’m going to follow Emily’s lead in quoting Stephen’s review:

“I didn't find myself captured by the story as a whole. I liked the characters, loved the writing and certainly loved the originality of the story. But in the end, I didn't enjoy it as much as I would need to in order to rate it higher. I liked it, I just didn't love it.”

That pretty much sums it up.

This was on my guilty list because I borrowed it from my Mum months before I got around to reading and felt quite the guilty-Gerty for ignoring it for so long. When I did begin the book, a bookmark fell out - a thank-you card from my brother and his wife, who now live in Australia, for being the celebrant at their wedding. I must have slipped it into the book for safe-keeping when I first borrowed it. So that was a nice sentimental moment. I used that card as my bookmark throughout my read, and that's my favourite memory about The Book Thief.

After this I read: Shards of Honor

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.

Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.

I’m a sucker for confessions. Have you ever heard of a website called PostSecret? People create these miniature artworks to anonymously whisper their deepest secrets to the world. Some weeks they’re funny; some weeks they make my chest ache in sympathy. On the surface, Anthony Loyd has written a book about the Bosnian war, but as the pages flicker by it doesn’t take long to realise that this book is a confession. He’s shone a light into the darkest corners of his psyche and smeared his beating heart across the page. My War Gone By, I Miss It So is brutal, it’s powerful and it turned me inside-out. Oh – and if you didn’t know already – it’s a true story.

Ant was a child from a broken home, who left the British military without seeing conflict. His London social circle was in a slow downward spiral of drugs and isolation. Ant decided to go find a war. Now, he does his best to rationalise this decision, delving into his formative years for memories of his venerated, mercenary-solider great-grandfather – but that whole line of reasoning never really flew for me – it felt too much like an attempt to squeeze emotional instinct into a nice, neat framework of cause and effect. The way I read it was simple: Ant felt great conflict inside, and sought an environment that would reflect that externally, as an attempt to understand it.

He gets himself a bare-bones qualification in photojournalism, a smattering of Serbian from a restaurant-owner’s daughter, throws some bags in the boot of a mate’s car, and heads off to the new war in Bosnia. He has no affiliation with a news agency, little money and some sketchy press papers – little justification and no safety net, but he goes – because he has to.

War... changes him. As a photojournalist, selling pictures of conflict, you need to get to where the action is. For someone with a borderline deathwish like Ant, this is not a problem – but taking decent pictures is. Ant scrapes by, pinballing from one battle to another, learning how to act cool and get by. At some point he gets a gig as a written journalist, something he’s never done before, and he just tells them straight-up what he’s seen. The newspapers like it, and the work gets steadier. Most reporters stay in the safe zones and write about what they hear, what they’re told – but Ant still works like a photographer, he gets right out in the thick of things and writes about what he’s seen. It’s an important difference.

Don’t get me wrong, you’ll learn a lot about the Bosnian war by reading this book, but it won’t be an analysis of political forces and tactical manoeuvres – this is a story of individuals, moments, sights, sounds and feelings. This is a very personal story of war.

Whenever it gets too much, Ant bolts back to London and his ever-quickening smack addiction. It’s either one or the other – war or oblivion – he simply cannot cope with the peaceful, civilian life going on around him. He cannot understand it, cannot connect with it and cannot endure it. Avoiding peace is Ant’s compulsion.

He’s a bright, articulate, passionate and at times darkly funny man. If this all sounds a bit grim and bleak – it is – but he writes with a rare and startling honestly which makes it eminently readable. As fubar as it seems, this is where Ant needs to be – this is the home he’s chosen and he’s in his element.

There’s a brief detour into Chechnya – the Russian separatist state – during a winter long ceasefire in Bosnia. The war there is a nightmare. They’re shelling the city into oblivion but the rebels are performing miracles. He doesn’t stay long – this isn’t his war.

Everywhere Anthony Loyd goes, he keeps his eyes open. He sees horrific things, but he also sees acts of kindness and strength. He remembers. He respects. He learns. These are the events which shaped the man who became a great journalist, The Times’ lead war reporter and winner of the Amnesty International Award.

I have my own personal connections with addiction and compulsive behaviour – which may well account for the empathy I felt towards this writer. I’ve never met the man, but I am proud of him for staking his naked soul to the page like this. I love the way this book does not end with a happy ever after, or a twist, or a symbolic dénouement; Ant’s conflict is not resolved, his journey is not over. His war is, and that’s going to necessitate a massive upheaval in his coping mechanism - or a new war!

I’ve not been to Sarajevo, but I have visited some of Serbia (Novi Said in particular) and that made it particularly easy to picture the landscapes and the hospitality of the people.

I can easily understand some/many people not liking this book and not liking Anthony Loyd – but this is one of those books I’m always going to defend. I felt a connection with the words that made me want to simultaneously give the man a hug and find my own war. My War Gone By, I Miss It So is well worth a read.

After this I read: The Book Thief

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I decided to make the most of the baby's morning nap and get this review, which has been cluttering up my thoughts for the last week, written. I was most the way there when suddenly the PC makes a chiming sound - "Your computer is shutting down, do you want to save?" - I clicked yes, of course, because I had not saved it yet - so it ignored me and shut down without saving. Seriously? Wha-tha-fu?! Angry. Yes. I'm going away now.

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.

Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.

If I didn’t stick to certain rules, I would buy books far faster than I could ever hope to read them – resulting in the sad, sad, fate of far too many good books languishing unread upon my shelves. So I have rules that govern when I may buy a new book.

I allow myself eighteen unread books upon my shelves at any one time. Why eighteen? Because when I look at my ‘to-be-read’ shelf, here on goodreads, using the cover view, it shows them in rows of six. So, three rows of books is a nice, neat pool of eighteen books to select from. When I finish a book, I pick my next book from the pool of eighteen, and then I allow myself to buy another book (normally ordered from Amazon second hand, that very second).

Again, I have my rules. The second tier shelf is ‘to-buy’ – these are the books I’d have already ordered by now if I wasn’t sticking to the rules. Again, I keep it stocked at eighteen books for the same reason, it’s a good sized pool to select from and looks nice and neat on my screen (I’m aware I’m a bit OCD about this, no need to comment!)

We have two more shelves to the system – the ‘wanted’ shelf, which I keep a little larger (thirty books) from which I promote one up to the ‘to-buy’ shelf whenever I have just ordered a book. Finally there’s my ‘long-list’ shelf, which covers everything else I’d like to get hold of, and from which I promote a single book up to the ‘wanted’ shelf whenever an opening arises.

So you see, I have this nice co-ordinated system of tiered book-buying, and whenever I finish a book it results in cascading promotions, which I love, because although I only actually buy one new book there’s another two which take a step closer to getting ordered.

Which is why gifts and borrowed books are such a pest! Don’t get me wrong, I love books and I love being given books – but they barge straight into the top shelf of the system, often making it overflow past the magic eighteen, and I’m forced to delay buying the books I actually wanted to get until I’ve read enough books to open that space back up. Since I did a tidy-up of outstanding unread books after moving house, my ‘to-be-read’ shelf has been dominated by those books I’ve had borrowed/bought/gifted. This is not ideal, so I’ve been pushing hard to get some of those cleared off, so I can fill those slots with the sci-fi/fantasy novels on my reading list.

Gillespie and I was a present from my Mum. I’m not entirely sure why she got it for me, she’s never read anything by Jane Harris before and she knows exactly what kind of books I love – it was my Mum who got me started on Peter Hamilton, Dan Simmons and David Mitchell – so I’m pretty sure it was on a whim because the cover-art looked great. The most exciting think I can say about Gillespie and I is that now I’ve finished it, I’ve ordered The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne Valente! That’s not to say it was a bad book – it is actually a very clever and well written book – it’s just not a book I would have chosen to read and it didn’t pack enough wow/punch to make a convert of me.

So let’s review the actual book then, shall we?
* SPOILERS AHEAD – DIVERS ALARUMS!*
- I say this nice and clear because this review is going to be spoilerific, so if you’re planning to read this book soon, you really should NOT keep reading...

Gillespie and I is a story about an English spinster, Harriet Baxter in the 1880s. She moves to Glasgow after her Aunt dies and soon befriends the Gillespie family: promising working-class painter, Ned, his wife Annie, his overbearing mother, Elspeth, and his two young daughters Sybil and Rose. To begin with, we follow the trials and tribulations of the Ned’s domestic and professional life; Sybil is a naughty little girl, and it’s hard to break through as an established painter. There are overtones of foreboding regarding how sinister Sybil can be, and that something horrific happened to Ned’s youngest, Rose. Around the half-way point, Rose goes missing. Months later the little girl’s body is found in a shallow grave. Very quickly afterwards, Harriet is arrested and charged with kidnapping and murder. The latter part of the book follows the trial, and the crown’s case that Harriet was obsessed with worming her way into the Gillespie’s home and driving Ned’s family away from him, one by one. She’s accused of hiring some goons to kidnap the girl – they were meant to return her unharmed, but there was an accident during the getaway and she sustained a blow to the head and later died.

The story is told as Harriet’s memoire – she was cleared of all charges and, now and old lady, is telling her side of events. There’s a second thread ‘modern day’ (around 1920, I think) regarding Harriet’s life now, and in particular her new live-in maid, Sarah. Again, there’s tints and foreboding that Sarah is actually the mad daughter of the Gillespie’s, Sybil, come for her revenge.

It’s a great example of the unreliable narrator – this is Harriet’s version of events, and there are hints scattered throughout that her interpretation is more biased – despite all attempts to portray herself as a reasonable and objective witness. Before long, there’s little doubt that Harriet’s version of events is untrue, possibly delusional, and it’s down to the audience to read between the lines and piece together the true chain of events.

The image of Harriet that emerges is a complex, psychologically (perhaps pathologically?) damaged woman, who is very bright, very articulate, and has completely divorced her ‘good’ identity (the angle of mercy) from the scheming, devious, manipulative bitch she truly is. She believes every word of her lies and papers over the cracks with meticulous detail.

As mentioned in my introduction, this isn’t my normal kind of book. This is Mann Booker fare. This is Literature. I’m a genre geek. I can’t think of any books I’ve read with protagonists like this – but I have seen films that are comparable: Notes on a Scandal, Match Point and The Talented Mr Ripley are three that spring to mind. They’re creepy. They’re often described as psychological thrillers. It’s not a subgenre I’m fond of. It’s a kind of storytelling in which I can appreciate the skill and subtlety of the storytelling, the careful tightrope walk of doubt, empathy and disgust the protagonist elicits, but I’ve never really enjoyed it. If anything, Gillespie and I is a harder sell; all three of those films are motivated by (distorted forms of) love. You never get the sense that Harriet is in love with Ned, but she’s obsessed with his attention, perhaps as a surrogate father figure?

The book is superbly written, there’s no doubt about that. Wonderfully sketched characters, dialogue and detail – and the multilayered delusion/truth in the telling is never conceited or convoluted. I can point to no flaws; I simply did not enjoy it.

The final, poignant moment where the mad old bat looks up at the picture of The Studio above her fire, and it's presence there completely obliterates any shreds of doubt - that was very nicely done. That almost earned it a fourth star, but that was an on-the-spot reaction which quickly faded.

Gillespie and I gets a respectful three-stars from me.

After this I read: My War Gone By, I Miss It So

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.

I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.

Is this my favourite book in the Vorkisgan Saga so far? Good question.

Let’s start with the ‘so far’ part. This is book 2 in the publication order, book 4 in the chronological order, but book 8 in my scattershot order.

We’re currently running at:
3 x five-star ratings
5 x four-star ratings
– from which you may deduce that this is a damn fine series, whatever order you read it in.

I loved The Warrior’s Apprentice – it’s Miles at his best.

Normally, if someone’s clock-watching at work, it’s because they don’t like their job and can’t wait to go home. For the nine days I had this book on the go, I found myself clock-watching every morning (and I like my job at the moment) because I couldn’t wait until my lunch break when I’d have half an hour with Miles!

This is a classic ‘lie-that-gets-out-of-control’ story. Miles heads off to Beta Colony to visit his maternal grandmother. He takes along his bodyguard, Sergeant Bothari, and the sergeant’s beautiful daughter, Elena. In a bid to impress Elena, Miles blags his way onto a repossessed jump-ship being held hostage by the distraught pilot and ends up buying the whole damn ship. To try and make good his purchase, he agrees to a double-or-quits mission to deliver ‘agricultural equipment’ into a warzone. It’s obviously an arms smuggling mission, for which Miles acts the veteran, but when mercenaries at the blockade try and take Elena hostage Miles has no choice but to take their ship (obviously), and then the next crises rushes up...

Fast paced, quick thinking, backs-to-the-wall, turning strategy on its head – pure, poor, genius Miles! Miles is all about brain over brawn, and the bigger the odds the faster his thinks.

This is very much of the same ilk as The Vor Game, which won the Hugo award. If I didn’t know any better I could easily believe it was the other way around – they’re both excellent. I’d still put Mirror Dance a smidgeon ahead of them both as my favourite, because I think Marc adds a little extra dark spin to Miles madcap world.

If I had to be mega critical, I’d say that first leap Miles takes to get involved with Mayhew (the pilot) is a little weakly motivated – but once we’re past that hurdle, the rest of the books rolls on majestic and unstoppable.

There are some great scenes with Bothari, the last of which left all the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. For such a light hearted romp, that ability to suddenly tug on the heart strings is part of what makes me admire Bujold so much as a writer. That and her wonderful way with loveable characters.

There are many points at which you can join this series – but The Warrior’s Apprentice has to be one of the most accessible volumes. If you like a great space adventure, grab a copy today :-)

After this I read: Gillespie and I