100th Post

Well, here we are. Eleven months after starting this blog I'm hitting my hundredth post. To be honest, I'm amazed. This is the longest I've stuck at anything I'm not being paid for! So, in order to celebrate, I've decided to share a couple of lists and facts about me. They may be uninteresting, they may cause you to edge away slowly. Either way, I'm sharing!

Five Things I've Learned From Blogging

• That getting my thoughts out, even if nobody is actually reading, is an excellent way of clearing my mind. You write it down, you move on.
• That there are many fascinating people out there who are willing to teach you whatever they can (more of that later).
• Opinions are worthwhile, even if you don't agree with them. And, for crying out loud, be polite about them! What's the point in making enemies? Freedom of speech is a novelty many people in this world don't enjoy!
• That writing about my progress spurs me on to actually... well, progress. No more sitting on my hands and singing along to musical ballads.
• Bloggers are an excellent resource for finding about out new books. Generally, their opinions are sound (and they disclose any bias beforehand!), plus you get to know the book bloggers who have similar tastes to you. Much better than Amazon recommendations!

My Five Favourite Posts On This Blog

• Legendary Performances
• Cry Me A River: An Ode To Subtlety
• Indulging The Whimsical
• Catherine Chanter
• Twisting The Standards

Five Facts About Me

• My favourite film is The Harvey Girls. I may say that it's The Wizard of Oz but that's just because I don't think you'll have heard of The Harvey Girls.
• I am a Gleek. I may find the plots ridiculous and the characters flimsy but I like the songs. Where else on mainstream television could you have a gay character singing 'Rose's Turn' from Gypsy?
• I get very heated over political matters. In order to stop such posts clogging up this blog, I created one especially for politics and current affairs: http://rattlingmarbles.blogspot.com/.
• I started off my writing as a fan fiction writer. While it's much derided as stealing other characters, I appreciate the chance to study sentence structure and plotting before I moved onto creating my own characters. Baby steps, that what was needed.
• While my faith in other aspects of my life wavers daily, I don't think I could ever stop writing. It's in my blood. And, even if the only people who read it are my best friends, at least it's being read. If nothing else, I'm reading it.

Five Bloggers Whom I Adore

• The Victorianist: http://thevictorianist.blogspot.com/. Far more than just a resource, this blog is a wealth of odd and involved information. It both helps me with my studies and entertains me.
• Steven Chapman: http://stevenchapmanwriter.blogspot.com/. Even if zombies creep you out, the posts on this blog are hilarious and thought-provoking. They always bring a smile to my face as I edge away from Steven quite quickly.
• Book After Book: http://bookafterbook.blogspot.com/. An exceptional book reviewing blog which I'm grateful to for enlightening me about the LGBT Book Challenge 2011.
• Becky's Book Reviews: http://blbooks.blogspot.com/. Another prolific book reviewing blog. Many a book added to my wish list because of this one.
• Scandalous Women: http://scandalouswoman.blogspot.com/. What it says on the tin. Every post is intriguing, particularly because half of the time I hadn't heard of what's being discussed.

So, here's to another hundred posts. And maybe beyond! I'd like to thank all the visitors to this blog and bow at the feet of everyone who has commented on it. Allow me to leave you with some images from my favourite film.

Book Review: Lasting Damage by Sophie Hannah

There are only two authors whose books I would rush out to buy on the day of release. Generally, I can starve myself until the paperback comes out but not with Sarah Waters or Sophie Hannah. I got very excited when I saw Hannah's latest was coming out, so much so that I pre-ordered a book for the first time in my life. I wasn't disappointed.

Lasting Damage springboards from this premise: a woman looking at a virtual tour on a property website sees a dead woman on the screen. When her husband comes to look he doesn't see what she saw. There begins a tale that races towards the finishing point described in the short prologue.

The sensation I always get when reading Hannah's books is that I'm running along behind a bus trying desperately to jump on. Like John Truitt in Meet Me In St. Louis, if you don't mind the analogy. Except that each time I get reasonably close to leaping on the bus swerves away. That's what following Hannah's plots feels like. After reading five previous books I feel I should have a good idea of where things are going, or at least be able to decipher probables, but I find it impossible. Hannah is a master at leading you in one direction, only for you to realise later on that she led you that way for a reason, though not the one you thought at the time. Her first-person narration from Connie's perspective certainly helps this effect. Connie Bowskill is another of those characters who you want to trust and like but she's a bit on the unstable side. Hannah takes the unreliable narrator, as she does in all her books, and utilises it to its full potential.

For fans of the series there are plenty of serial elements in the police chapters to interest, which doesn't alienate new readers. Charlie Zailer and Simon Waterhouse are as dysfunctional a couple as ever and, although they begin the novel on their honeymoon, it's almost inevitable that they don't stay there. Further complications are thrown into the mix with the brief return of a face from an earlier book and a subplot involving Charlie's sister, Olivia, which causes all sorts of problems. If I've one complaint it's that this subplot dominates the early portion of the book then peters off. I understand why - at that point the main storyline is so complex that nothing should distract from it - but it was still something I noticed. However, I don't doubt that it'll definitely come up in the next book.

Are there parts of Lasting Damage I didn't like? To be honest, no. Hannah's got such a grip on her police characters (and an amazing knack for portraying unbalanced people) that characterisation wasn't a problem. The resolution to the main storyline leaves you thinking back over the entire book. Now, that's not a bad thing, but it does mean at some point I'm going to have to satisfy my urge to read all six books again! I'm always torn between reading slowly and absorbing everything or galloping ahead in order to reach the conclusion. Re-reading is a good option to add to those.

Again, I would recommend that anyone unfamiliar with Hannah starts at the beginning of her fantastic series, but the book is accessible to those who don't. I started at book four and worked my way backwards and I'm okay!

A previous review of Hurting Distance, the second book in series, can be found here.

I've blogged about reading the series backwards here.

Lasting Damage is available to buy here.

Characters and Phobias

As I'm supposed to be going for my first proper blood test in the morning I've been dwelling on the idea of needles. I hate needles. One of my most embarrassing memories is my mother taking me to have my meningitis jab at the local doctor's, only for me to start screaming uncontrollably when the nurse came anywhere near me. I made a complete fool of myself and even emotional blackmail from the nurse didn't help. I was well aware, even at that age, that I was stopping someone else getting the medicine, but I still couldn't force my body to stay still. Needless to say, tomorrow is not going to be pleasant and, truth be told, I don't know if I'll be able to go through with it.

All this dwelling on my own fears brought me round, as most things do, to my characters. One of my current protagonists has been through a huge trauma and as a consequence avoids crowds. As her emotional state stems directly from a major plot event elsewhere in the book, it isn't too difficult for me to remember it exists. The inconsistency should she suddenly feel at home in a packed shopping centre would be striking and any readers I hope to have would instantly lose faith in me. I'm not saying it has to be a feature of every trip into the outside world for her, but it needs to crop up whenever the unexpected does. For the most part she can regulate her response as long as she knows what's coming.

One book I dip in and out of as my work dictates is the fantastic Writer's Guide to Character Traits. I'm fairly sure I've mentioned it before on the blog because it's a really helpful book to refer to when you're unsure of how a given character may react. The section on phobias is brief but does give several traits as starting points for exploration of character. As with most descriptions in the guide, it's a platform to jump from. If you know your characters well enough then you can fill in the rest of their symptoms for them.

There are a couple of things I'd cautious about though. When looking at a blank character sheet you might get the urge to fill it up by tossing in a debilitating fear or two. Beware: these are things that will affect your characters. If you include it, if you mention it, be sure to follow it up. The second point relates to the first: although not everything about your character has to be fuel to your plot, phobias are one of those things that cause an obstruction in some way or other. If your character's phobia is barely pertinent then perhaps it can be discarded.

And, just for the record, if you want fireworks, make someone with a needle phobia go for a blood test. The results are hilarious, in a dark kind of way.

Permanent Spring Cleaning

My paternal grandmother is currently in the process of moving into sheltered accommodation. My thoughts on the matter are quite redundant but, suffice to say, I'm getting quite emotional as we gradually clear the house of things she can't take with her. I've been blessed with two huge boxes of my late grandfather's books, of which he had a great selection. I've discarded some of the duplicates - including five versions of Shakespeare's sonnets and three copies of To The Lighthouse - but mostly I decided to hang onto a load of old books I'll probably never read. Sentimentality? Maybe. But I'd rather have them than not.

Several years ago we were in this situation with my maternal grandmother. The big difference in that case was that she wasn't able to help us move her out so it was completely hit and miss about what was saved and what wasn't. I hold a great deal of guilt for not managing to save several things I know she would've loved to keep in her final months, such as her late husband's WWII bag. She'd shown me it several times over the years. It smelled like hell but it was a fundamental part of him, one of the few things she had left.

Another item was a typed manuscript that she brought out of a drawer one day. Apparently my grandfather (who died before I was born) had written this story and sent it off somewhere. It was rejected and, from what I can gather, he didn't try again. It sat in a drawer, misplacing pages over the years, until it was purged from the house as we cleared it out. Two of my biggest regrets? That I didn't save it and, more damningly, that I never took the time to read it. Yes, that's right, I never read it.

Something evidently put me off at the time, whether it was the fact that several pages close to the beginning were missing or maybe that the premise of a cowboy story didn't really appeal to a teenage girl. It could've been more fundamental than that: perhaps I didn't want to judge a man I hadn't met on his literary merit and risk coming up with bad conclusions.

However, I regret it massively today. You should grab every piece of your heritage you can, even if it seems unimportant at the time. That's why I've filched the two boxes of books - I'm well aware there are likely to be notes in the margins and newspaper clippings slotted in at the front. I'm looking for a history, something to give me some sense of belonging in a family I feel distanced from.

Perhaps this just reeks of sentimentality. But it's something I feel I need to do.

Book Review: Summer Will Show by Sylvia Townsend Warner

I have to admit, before I bought this book I'd never heard of Sylvia Townsend Warner. Retrospective research tells me she was a regular writer of novels, short stories and poems in the early-to-mid twentieth century. She was also a confirmed lesbian, living with poet, Valentine Ackland, until death parted them. That's the brief biographical sketch out of the way.

Summer Will Show is a sumptuous novel. The best way I can find to describe Warner's writing style in this particular book is that she has the eye of Charles Dickens and the flow of Edith Wharton. The two marry up quite well. While a small but diverse cast of characters appear through the novel, Warner manages to individualise them in a way that reminds me unavoidably of Dickens. The worst thing is, I can't pinpoint why! It's probably her eye for important detail, her method of filling the cracks with what should be known as opposed to what needs to be known. When I say that Warner flows in a manner similar to Edith Wharton, I mean it as a wholehearted compliment: I've found Wharton to be one of the most deceptively simple authors to read in literature.

The basic plot is this: Sophia Willoughby lives alone with her children in England as her husband, Frederick, and his mistress, Minna, enjoy life together in France. Sophia is content with her existence until her children die from smallpox. Then she follows Frederick back to France with the vague idea of having another child with him before leaving him to his own devices. However, she stumbles upon Paris as revolution takes hold and finds herself in an unlikely partnership with Minna as Frederick retreats to safety. The novel trundles along to its climax which, although almost inevitable, still leaves a powerful sensation behind it.

One review I read suggested that the anti-Semitism and racism within the novel was greatly off-putting. I won't lie, it can be a tricky read if you're not used to it. However, you have to remember that the novel is set in 1848. As a connoisseur of Victorian fiction, the discrimination didn't bother me so much. It's a representation of the times and to ignore it would remove realism from the book. Another criticism seemed to be Sophia's attitude towards Minna, which is derogatory even as their relationship progresses. I would argue that it's a good representation of character and shows the difficulty of shedding prior opinions after getting to know someone. But it's also actually refreshing - Sophia recognises the negative qualities of Minna as much as she recognises that their lives are now inexorably entwined.

A warning here: anybody looking for explicit lesbianism within this novel will be disappointed. Remember, it was written in 1936, not exactly a flowering period in the acceptance of homosexuality. However, the signs are definitely there. The odd kiss is mentioned, the fact that Sophia and Minna share a bed is made clear. Perhaps one of the greatest qualities of this book is that it demonstrates a connection between the two women without saying anything overly inflammatory which would've hurt the publication of the book. You're forced to read between the lines and, with Warner's luscious prose, it's not a chore to need to do that.

There is one practical point for readers which I feel I should mention. The novel is just over three hundred pages long and split into five parts. However, within the parts there are no breaks, just continuous prose. As someone who pauses a lot when reading I found this difficult to engage with, especially because I desperately wanted to carry on reading. I understand the logic in relation to this particular novel: everything is interconnected and the flowing prose gives the impression of life drifting by. It's overall a very absorbing text, but that may not be a great thing if you've got something else to do!

A couple of my favourite scenes, just to finish. The novel opens with Sophia taking her children to be hung by their ankles over a kiln in the belief that it will heal their ills. However ridiculous that concept may seem now, the scene is bizarre, intimidating and beautifully crafted. Later, during her first meeting with Minna, Sophia hears a story about her hostess's childhood in Lithuania. The vividness of that tale would've made the book worth reading had nothing else stood out. As it is, though, I can barely find fault with it.

I do believe some people would struggle with the style and the fact that so much happens so quickly. Admittedly, this book isn't for everyone. Even so, I can't wait to read it again. I get the feeling that I'll enjoy it even more the second time around.

This book was read for the LGBT Book Challenge 2011 (see sidebar for details).

Summer Will Show is available here.

Learn more about Sylvia Townsend Warner here.

The Flashing Smoke Alarm

My weekend away was marred by an multitude of issues from the weather to illness to stress monkeys flapping around my head like something out of a Disney cartoon. However, by far and away the most irritating aspect of the break was the fact that in my hotel room there was a smoke alarm. And it flashed. All night. At ten second intervals. It was right above the bed and on the second night I resorted to wrapping a sock (clean, before you ask!) around my eyes to better block it from view. Still, I was aware it was there, and it permeated everything.

That got me thinking. I've had a few false starts with the writing in the last few weeks. The desire to swiftly mould a new idea into a novel came and was partially repressed. Then PhD stuff took absolute precedence, which it may need to do for a while. However, I've now realised what my inner flashing smoke alarm is: publication, or fear thereof.

Don't get me wrong, like most aspiring writers being published is the Holy Grail for me. But I'm normal (so I read) in that it scares the hell out of me. And, while I'm sat at my computer trying to force magic words from my fingertips, it transforms into a little voice which repeats my doubts to me, annoying in my own rational voice. I find it hard to argue with that voice because I'm forced to trust it on so many other things. But, in order to push myself forward, I have to ignore it. Otherwise this fourth draft will not get finished and I then have no hope of getting published. That's simple and that's fact. Everything else my own personal alarm is telling me is rubbish.

It whispers that I'm not good enough to write. Okay, well, I need to let other people decide that because I've come to this point and I wouldn't have got here without a little encouragement and self-belief. The last thing I need to lose at this point is the self-belief.

It tells me I haven't got time to do this. Funnily enough, I already know that. I'm balancing precariously on the edge here, but, short of falling off the precipice, there's nothing I can do about it. If something has to give then it will have to be forcibly taken from me.

I don't want to fail. But I might. One thing's for sure though, I shouldn't let a niggling flash of doubt keep me up all night and plague me with headaches the next day. If a sock doesn't suffice to keep the doubts out then I'll find something thicker. Perhaps a piece of carpet?

RIP Jane Russell

Another sad day; another announcement of the loss of a great entertainer.

I absolutely adore Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. It's definitely on my list of top films, and that's mainly down to Jane. I don't think it's a secret that I prefer the sarcastic and caustic characters. Throw in a beautiful actress, a smoky voice, and some amusing scenes alongside Marilyn Monroe and you've got a hit on your hands. When we lost Rue McClanahan last year I counted down my favourite legendary performances and Jane made the list.

As ever, I'm relieved that at least I can watch the film over and over again. And to remind you who she was...