This is me, warts and all.

With so much to say and not enough time to say it, I figured I would write it instead. People often tell me they wonder what on earth is going on in my head and now you’ll get a little insight into the wonderfully absurd workings of my brain.

I read like it’s going out of fashion, which it actually kind of is and so it would seem the natural progression would be to write. Here I’m exploring the world of literature, not only the books but also the authors, the readers and the history. Why not, eh? There’s more to literature than books and I’m aiming to prove that in my own way and in my own time.

So here are the literary ramblings of a coffee addict who has a complex thought process and the compulsion to write.

Thirteen Reasons Why…

I’ll confess, I’ve neglected this blog for much too long! I’m here right now because I’m procrastinating although it’s great to be back.

So, book club continues, of course. I use the name loosely, though. Now we natter away for a few hours, slurp tea (bleh, it’s coffee for me) and eat far too many biscuits. No, really. Packets of biscuits should be smaller and less enticing, my thighs would appreciate it greatly although I can’t believe my stomach would.

The closest we have come to reading lately is scouring Facebook and playing The Hungry Caterpillar board game… it’s named after one of my favourite children’s books, after all.

In my own time, however, I have become a lean, mean, reading machine. So maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but I’ve finished two whole books so far this year and I think that’s almost as many as I read in the whole of 2011. Last week, I finished reading Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher.

While it’s arguably a teenage girl’s novel, I have to admit I loved it although I was naturally a little put out by the absence of a happily ever after (I’m rather idealistic, after all) but this just means this book sticks with me. How could I forget the unusual and heartbreaking novel Asher provided?

The structure alone is intriguing; as a story about a set of tapes recorded by a high school student before her own suicide, it’s fitting for the narrative to be paused, stopped and played. The chapters themselves were split into different tapes, each with a new character as the focus. The story gives the tale of Hannah Baker, a teenage girl who took her own life after facing torment and rumours in the new town. Hannah explains how thirteen people played a role in her decision and how, drawing to light how every action can have a snowball effect and also showing just how difficult high school can seem, especially alone.

The present tense narrative, intermingled with Hannah’s words on the tapes, is given by Clay Jenson: the 9th person to receive the tapes. The idea is that each person on the tapes, in order of appearance, will receive the tapes and listen to her story before passing them onto the next person. Clay’s story covers only a few hours as he listens to those thirteen tales and his role in them but Hannah’s story is a summary of two years’ worth of events.

Asher makes it easy to empathise with both Clay and Hannah. Even Hannah’s character admits that Clay should not be on the tapes and of course this is a relief to him as he finally reaches his own tale but what he has heard cannot be unheard and he must live with that, with his new-found knowledge. How could you cope with hearing the role your classmates played in the death of the girl you had loved? It wouldn’t be easy and this is portrayed in the jarring tale.

Suicide is a delicate subject, one which Asher handled honestly and tastefully. It’s real and it’s eye-opening. I’m sure I’m not the only person to realise how we are all linked, how every action and every word can change someone’s life, whether for better or for worse. The butterfly effect.

It got me thinking though: Would I have “Thirteen Reasons Why”? Are there that many defining moments in my life that could be included in a set of tapes. I’m not saying for one minute that I’m considering ending my own life; that’s not what this is about. It is about how our experiences define us and how our reaction to them can either make or break us. Everything that’s happened to us makes us who we are today, right? Right. Okay, so maybe the more trivial things can be called inconsequential and that view may well be right, but there are moments and conversations that stick with you and change you.

Hannah’s character chose to write the key Thirteen Reasons Why she chose to commit suicide but could she (and should she) have considered the Thirteen Reasons Why she shouldn’t? That’s my question. That and what would you do?

On that though, I leave you…

N

Forgive me, it’s Christmas

Book club has been on a prolonged Christmas break; a necessity since we’re all so busy.

A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. I guess it’s no longer acceptable to over-indulge on food, booze and television and I’m disappointed to say the least!

To tell you the truth, it’s the perfect time of year to have started reading Bridget Jones’ Diary – a Christmas present from my mother. I’m ashamed to admit that my Pops got more books than me for Christmas. He thwarted my one book, with his two. I’m hanging my head.

In reality, I haven’t even read all the books I received last Christmas but that doesn’t mean anything. I like to have them available.

Anyway, back to the point.

I loved the BJD films and, at the time, I didn’t know they were an adaptation from the book. Ever since I discovered that, I have had it on my Amazon wish list. I’m not very far in yet but it’s safe to say it’s comical and written in an interesting way. Forget perfect spelling and the usual sentence structure from Bridget Jones; it’s different and slightly disturbing but it makes her character seem all the more real. Isn’t that what authors are always trying to achieve? If a character is more realistic then the audience is going to find it easy to relate to them and Bridget is your every day woman with blunders and embarrassing stories galore.

I’m always paranoid I will end up just like her one day; sitting on the sofa, alone, in my pyjamas and singing along to dramatic songs like my life depends on it. It’s not as if I do that already…

Come to think of it, I should probably get dressed some time today. Ahem.

No doubt I will continue to read slowly, finding a few minutes here and there to fit in some more of my new book. I haven’t quite worked out what’s next on my list to read but I do know I’m still only half way through Maya Angelou’s book of poetry and I really need to finish it. What a stunning woman.

Anyway, off for food… the sofa and no, no dramatic songs for me!

N

On a Rainy Day.

Here I am, curled up on my bed with the rain and sleet hammering against the window. I had intended to go into town and do my Christmas shopping before work, but I’m not going to brave the horrendous conditions. The wind makes it that much worse!

It’s been a while since book club has been able to go ahead. Yes, I still feel like a nerd every time I say the words “book” and “club” consecutively. Hey, I’m a whopping great nerd. And what?

I now own a book of poetry and not a children’s one, either. It’s a compilation of some of Maya Angelou’s poetry and I can’t deny that I’ve been quite enjoying it. I’m not usually a poetry kind of person but I find Angelou’s writing more interesting and enticing. One of my favourites so far has to be “I’ll Rise”. I’m hoping that’s the name, anyway, because I’ve misplaced the book somewhere amongst my general clutter. You can tell she’s a strong woman and she has an interesting view of the world, from what I can tell. Basically, she’s one cool lady.

She manages to make her deep, dark words sound beautiful and light, the tone often disguising the sinister themes and descriptions.

I have a major woman crush, just to put that out there. I’ve bought her book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, and now I am simply waiting for the opportunity to read it. My busy schedule has limited the amount of reading I have done in recent months but hopefully I will get back into it soon. I miss the late nights with books I just can’t put down. More times than I care to count, I have been up until 3am or later (earlier?) reading, although it’s a while since that has happened. These days I spend my hours working away like a well-oiled machine.

It’s safe to say, Christmas Day will be a welcomed rest.

Noughts and Crosses

I’m back, don’t fret! I know it’s been a while and I’m a few book clubs behind right now but three Mondays ago we were looking at Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman. If you were hoping that last week there was a spectacular Halloween special, then I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ll begin by admitting that we spent the 31st October studying a different kind of book… Facebook. Yes, it was a terribly unproductive evening, unless I tell you that there  was a lot of Fraping involved, in which case we covered plenty in those two short hours where we curled up on the sofa with coffee and biscuits.

Leaving that week behind, I will bring you back to an actual book. I don’t know if you’ve read, or even heard of, the Malorie Blackman saga, consisting of four books. If you haven’t, I can tell you this author’s name was mentioned in a popular chart song recently. I’ll go dig that out for you. It’s rather irrelevant information, but it might have peaked your interest. I’m back twenty seconds later (yes, I work fast) with the details. The song was Written in the Stars by Tinie Tempah and if you want to hear it, I will let you test your internet skills and Google it yourself. I don’t want life to be too easy for you, do I?

Anyway, I’m getting carried away again. The series raises the issue of racism, quite plainly, but with a different take on it. Historically, black people were considered inferior and suffered from the prejudices in those times, yet Blackman has reversed this in her writing, with white people (noughts) being inferior to black people (Crosses). The tale begins as a friendship between Sephie (Cross) and Callum (nought) and you see their relationship progress into romance. As you can imagine, it wasn’t plain sailing for these two and with terrorism, death and judgement at every turn, they have to make some difficult decisions.

I found this series to be an emotional rollercoaster; the highs were high and the lows were so very low. You can watch the progression from naive childhood, with things becoming more difficult for both of these characters and ultimately, Callum commits the ultimate betrayal. It could be argued that Sephie is too naive for her own good, blinded by her love for her childhood friend, but you can’t blame a girl for being confused.

Noughts and Crosses was a brave move by Blackman and she pulled it off spectacularly, taking a direct approach to tackling racism and opening readers’ eyes to how it could have easily been different. Prejudice has consequences and we can’t continue to live in a world of hate and judgement if we want to function peacefully.

Finally, I would recommend these books to you. They’re startlingly realistic and heartbreaking and written with such purpose that you can’t help but be drawn into this tale.

Reading Corner

Last week the book club didn’t happen, but not to worry, because this Monday it returned with a bang. A bang in the form of Beadle and the Bard tales. You may be sensing a J.K. Rowling theme here and you’re not alone.

Having never read them before, it was a fun-filled evening, with the various characters delegated between four of us. Who says literature can’t be interesting? Not me, that’s for sure. I do believe I made an excellent faux tree stump, although I may be biased.

The tales had all the magical intrigue that the Harry Potter novels contain, yet these required a different sort of writing from Rowling. Have you ever tried to write a book in a book? Essentially, that’s what it is. Much like the other two books she wrote as background reading for all the Harry Potter fans out there. We mere muggles have our own myths and fairy tales, coming from centuries ago and with only a vague idea of where they originated. I won’t lie to you, I’m fascinated – and a little jealous – that Rowling had the opportunity to invent her own.

The commentary by Albus Dumbledore himself, written at the end of each tale, was used as the beginning to our discussions. It’s completely logical, really. I can’t take the credit for this initiative, however.

We commented on the themes and the meaning behind them. Our in-depth knowledge of the Harry Potter novels enhanced our analysis and enabled us to discuss the history and relate the tales to the magical world of which they came from.

I don’t want to bore you with the details, just know that, once again, I had a whale of a time with my close friends and many written words. I’m sad to say that on this occasion there was no coffee but I struggled on (I’m exaggerating, I didn’t even notice until now) and even managed to convincingly play the role of a warlock. Well, you’ll never know if I’m telling the truth there…

I’ll see you next week,

N

Book worms

Last night was the first meeting of our little book club. Just myself and five friends snuggled up with cups of hot chocolate (or coffee in my case) and a Quality Street tin filled with biscuits. Fox’s Creams, my favourites. Obviously we weren’t meeting to indulge ourselves in food. That’s just an added bonus.

We decided to do Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone first because we all love a cheeky bit of Harry Potter any day, any time. I’ve gone beyond being ashamed to admit that, there’s just no point in denying it any longer. I think most people who know me, know that I’m a fan.

Normally book clubs are stigmatised as being nerdy and I’m going to own up to having secretly wanted to be a part of a book club for a long time. Ours isn’t nerdy, though I’m sure there are plenty out there that are, as well as those which aren’t. I love reading and I love spending time with my friends (and I won’t say no to a cup of coffee), so what could be better?

We read a few passages between us and analysed them together and it was somewhat fascinating for everyone’s different views to be aired. It’s a way of learning things and it’s enjoyable. The process was helped by our in depth knowledge of the series and its characters and all in all, it was a laugh. Perhaps a Monday night ritual has been started here? Let’s hope so. I’d gladly bring along some Doritos as sustenance.

By playing a game of “guess the character” it enabled us to identify the different language used by characters and the ways they spoke. Although this may be considered more to do with English Language and rather irrelevant in a book club, I don’t think so. Okay, so mostly it was just a bit of fun.

No doubt we will be arranging another session soon, complete with fun and games. Hopefully next time there won’t be another “wasp incident”. Nothing escapes the wrath of a dictionary, I’m telling you! Who knows what book will be next on the list, but we’ll soon find out.

Until next time,

N.

The Hungry Caterpillar

Something that has been on my mind at the minute is how you get into children’s literature. It seems so simple, really, that anybody could write it. However, this isn’t really the case. To revert back to childhood, a time when your thoughts were younger and far less complex, must be difficult. You have to see things from a child’s point of view and ask yourself what a child would want to read.

The Hungry Caterpillar was one of my childhood favourites and I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t still love it. I have some Hungry Caterpillar paper plates buried in a drawer somewhere, from last year. Don’t get me started on the badges. Anyway, this is one of two books I still own which are aimed at children; The other being We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. They’re both classics and if you’ve not read them, I’m going to have to ask where you’ve been? Seriously. “We’re going on a bear hunt, we’re going to catch a big one.” Ring any bells? No? Read it.

Just because I’m no longer a child, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate children’s literature. It’s so much simpler and easier to digest. So, when my brain is putting up a fight and I just want to snuggle up in bed with a pair of my favourite woolly socks on, what’s to stop me from reading something with a simple plot and a lack of complex vocabulary? This isn’t me admitting to reading The Hungry Caterpillar in my spare time, though. I’ve not read it in years; not since I last went through my book drawer – Yes, it’s a drawer – to see if there was anything I could unwillingly part with.

The moral of this story (or blog, if you’d prefer) is that just because your brain is more developed, it doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate something from your childhood. After all, it is basic books such as those I’ve mentioned, which are used to teach children, and even adults, to read. Not everybody learns to read when they’re young and those people can’t just jump straight into Shakespeare or Orwell, although I’m sure they wish they could. Such is life, I guess. Reading is progressive, there’s always something to see and something to learn and I’m going to leave you on that note. Something to ponder, perhaps?