Too Hot to Hug

Too Hot to Hug
Steve Smallman & Gee Biscoe

This afternoon, I am welcoming a group of primary school children to their public library for Share a Story month. The theme this year is 'dragons', so I got to explore our collection of dragon picture books and find some favourites. 

Too Hot to Hug is an adorable book about a dragon growing up. He is found in a cave by a young boy, who takes him home to his family. Crumpet the dragon is quickly adopted by the family, using his warmth to keep them all comfortable during the cold winter months - drying laundry, heating toast. But as Crumpet gets older, he gets hotter, until he is just too hot to hug. 

As an adult, I love the subliminal messaging in children's books, and in this one, it isn't even subtle - the family find the best way to keep Crumpet cool is to have a bath, so bathtime soon becomes incredibly fun for all. 

The illustrations in this book are brilliant, and those children who have already visited the library for a dragony story time have loved colouring in the pictures of Crumpet. He is a lovely, friendly dragon; perfect for Share a Story month. 

Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect
Holly Smale

There are few young adult novels that have continued to be a necessity in my life since I stopped being a school librarian. I am currently basking in being able to read adult fiction, and dabbling increasingly in picture books for fun. But without the Geek Girl series, I fear my life would not be the same.

It is finally time for Harriet Manners to hit New York City. With a new baby sister in her life, Harriet's dad must go back to work, and his career choices lead the family to New York. Harriet and her best friend, Nat, dream of those high spires and infamous landmarks, of adventures through great museums and romantic walks through Central Park. It means a couple of months off school, where Harriet is excited to embark into sixth form, but perhaps she might get to see a little more of the handsome Lion Boy, Nick.

But the arrival of the Manners family in New York does not quite go according to Harriet's plan. Rather than living in a fancy appartment in Manhattan, they are a few hours out of town in Harriet's idea of suburban hell. She has no friends, no school, and her parents seem to be perminantly asleep or trying to sleep around baby Tabitha's naps.

In a tizzy of anger, Harriet decides to take matters into her own hands, and ventures into the city to see Nick and the magic of the Big Apple. But running away is not as easy as it seems, so Harriet manages to upset just about everyone around her. And, in classic Geek Girl style, she finds herself drawn into a world where people just seem to want to change her and trick her and ultimately (though mostly accidentally) ruin her life.

As a reader, it is very easy to get frustrated as Harriet plunges into foolish decisions, from simply running away from home to pretending to play it cool with Nick to make him more eager. But equally, it is very easy to relate to her confusion and desire to fit in - we have all been there.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon the next Geek Girl book in a book shop, and could hardly stop myself reading it. So I went straight home and ordered it from the library. I cannot wait.

Furniture

Furniture
Lorraine Mariner

Okay, so I am a little late on the scene when it comes to Lorraine Mariner. Anyone who knows anything about contemporary poetry must already be familiar with her blunt commentaries on real life and her first lines that make you just want to go away and write. But I couldn't resist getting in on the conversation. 

This collection reads a little like the diary of a teenage girl, growing up, learning about the world around her. But it is also reflective and mature, looking back on the hopes and fears we all share, and those that are unique to each of us. 

This is what makes Mariner's poetry so inspiring - first lines that can lead you anywhere, taking you back into your own memories of being in school, falling in love, feeling jealous or angry or naive. Like Injured, which starts with a line about what you always fantastised about at school - Mariner's dream being that she would get injured and be propelled to the dizzy heights of in-school celebrity. 

Or My Beast, documenting a young girl's concern that her fairytale story would come unravelled by her own inabilities to play the part of princess properly; which led to some brilliant creations in one of our First Story sessions back at OSA.

My love for Lorraine Mariner arises somewhere between Stanley, the witty first poem in the collection in which the author breaks up with her imaginary boyfriend, and Heart, which recounts that universal experience of losing your heart to someone who doesn't deserve it, accidentally "slipping it / into his pocket as he did up his overcoat". She explores those heartbreaking elements of growing up in a way that is so unique and yet seems so obvious - you will hate yourself for not thinking them up first. 

I borrowed this collection from the library, and have had a hard time bringing myself to take it back. Perhaps it is just one I am going to have to buy. 

How to Build a Girl

How to Build a Girl
Caitlin Moran

 I had almost neglected to write this review, seeing as it has been so over-reviewed already, but when I saw a friend reading it and laughing all the way through, I felt the need to offer my thoughts.

All those who know Caitlin Moran know her story by now - a clever girl raised on a council estate who lands a teenage writing prize and goes on to blag a column in The Times. Moran insists that How to Build a Girl is fiction, but it is hard to distance this novel from her own reality.

But it is not the plot of this novel that I want to celebrate, rather the little snippets of hilarity that are simultaneously completely familiar and obsurely unique. The teenage self-consiousness that convinces Johanna Morrigan she is singularly responsible for her family's poverty. The misreading of social convention that makes dressing solely in black seem like the best idea, and her mother's concern that she is acting like a dark crow that has decended upon the household. The naivety that allows her to have so much sex and so few orgasims.

Whether or not you like that fact that Moran seems to only write about one thing, you cannot deny the fact that she is honest, realistic and frankly hilarious.

The Hare with the Amber Eyes

The Hare with the Amber Eyes
Edmund de Waal

I am not much of a reader of biographies - only those of specific individuals I admire. But in order to see how Cardiff librarians run their book clubs, I thought I would read this and attend the meeting at Cathays. 

Edmund de Waal has a fascinating family history, spanning many nations, and measured in this book by the presence of netsuke, small Japanese figures collected by his ancestors. They are initially collected by Charles Ephrussi, a Russian immigrant in Paris, at the height of their popularity. The figures move from here, to Vienna, to England and finally back to Japan with de Waal's uncle, Iggy. 

I really enjoyed reading through the context of the journey - learning the details of the Ephrussi's attempts at assimilation into Vienna between the wars, and their eventual exclusion from the city during the Nazi reign. They were an incredibly adaptable family, spreading themselves through Europe and later into South America and the far East. And yet, despite their best efforts, anti-Semitism was too ripe to bring the family peace. 

Some elements of the story seemed too good to be true - many of the family's fortunes came thanks to their wealth, but the survival of the netsuke was incredible. During the Nazi occupation, the Ephrussi household was taken over by the Nazi bureaucracy, and their property was scattered amongst the Ayrian elite. But the netsuke escaped attention, and were smuggled to safety in the folds of the apron of the family maid. 

I would have liked to have learned more about de Waal's grandmother, Elisabeth. She was the daughter of the glamorous Baroness Emmy, a fashionable, sophisticated woman - but unlike her mother, Elisabeth had little fashion sense and was a determined, academic young woman. She fought for her education, and later fought to get her family out of Vienna during the Second World War. And after the war, she fought to regain possession of all the art and property her family lost during the Nazi occupation. I admired Elisabeth, a woman who seemed completely ahead of her time. 

The end of the novel left me wondering what might happen next to the netsuke and to the Ephrussi family, now diluted by marriage and spread across the world. 

Yes Please

Yes Please
Amy Poehler

My sister and I share a love for Amy Poehler like no other shared love (except maybe that felt towards our parents and brother... maybe). 

I stumbled upon Parks and Recreations as 30 Rock neared it's final series, as I searched for a surrogate for my nerdy affections. Somehow, I managed to convince my sister to watch it, and now we constantly quote lines and recall clips at each other. 

Yes Please is Amy Poehler's biography. She recounts the giggliness of her youth, the excitement of her early career, and the complexity of trying to have it all. 

I have known for some time that I like the way Poehler writes, but this engages with a different literary form. In her biography, Poehler is honest and witty and generous towards her reader. Her style is that of a reluctant talker - she clearly prefers to make believe as Leslie Knope than to open up about herself. Every sentence raises more questions than it answers, revealing little snippets of her life but masking her darkest secrets. 

Throughout the book, she discusses how difficult she found the process of writing, praising her friends who have helped her along the way. She also jumps between trains of thought - you embark on a chapter about her school days only to be led on a tangent towards an incident involving her beloved improvisation troupe, the Upright Citizen's Brigade. 

Leslie Knope and Amy Poehler are both completely inspiring and amazing individuals, but this biography reveals just how talented an actor Poehler is - she is not as similar to Knope as I had expected, and I love that about her. I find myself reassured by the fact that she suffers from anxiety, and inspired by her attempts to be the best version of herself.

If you find yourself looking for something to read, read this. 

The Forward Book of Poetry 2010

The Forward Book of Poetry 2010
London, Forward, 2010

The 2010 collection is larger than any other Forward Book of Poetry - it contains some of the longest poems I have read in all the anthologies. But it also consists of a wide variety of subjects and forms, and every poems has memorable images and lines. 

I am starting to see familiar names recurring in the collections I have been reading - the more you read, the more you know. I was delighted to see Hugo Williams in the 2010 collection - his 'Poems to My Mother' are warm and honest, consistent with his work I have read elsewhere. 

Family is a theme that repeatedly comes up in poetry, but none more so than in this collection. It was presented in so many forms - from admiration to anger, tragedy to humour. Many seemed to be saying good bye, such as Christopher James' heart-breaking thoughts on his father. The words portray the individual poet's battles with their relationships; in particular, the darkness of Brian Henry's 'Quarantine' still haunts me. 

War and terror seemed to frequently be explored - even ten years after 9/11, the images of this tragedy remain on the minds of the writers. Clive James' ability to find a dark sort of humour in this subject demonstrates the zanity with which terrorism is thought. 

Alongside these are reflections on opportunities missed and lives not fulfilled. Roger McGough, a writer I normally associate with humour, declares, "We didn't make our beds, but we lie in them." And Kevin Hart muses over what life could have been like had he taken a different path. 

Many different styles were on show in this collection - from structure, rhyming poems to those without punctuation and correct grammar. In places, words seemed to be thrown at random upon the page, until closer reading revealed love or hope or longing. 

The ones I loved the most, as per usual, were those written by women, typically about relationships. The 2010 collection gave me a great selection to choose from, including Lorraine Mariner and Selima Hill, aforementioned favourites. But this collection iintroduced me to Tamsin Kendrick, whose weighing up of 'Peter Pan vs Captain Hook' forces you to reflect on your ideal man; especially when paired with Katy Evans-Bush's 'To My Next Lover', which immediately made me go away and write.

What more can you ask of a collection of poetry?

Fortunately, the Milk

Fortunately, the Milk
Neil Gaiman
Ill. by Chris Riddell

After reading something as mature as The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting, I needed something a little more fantastical and extraordinary, in every sense of the words. 

When Dad pops to the shops to get some more milk, his children are surprised at how long it takes. They speculate that he may have bumped into someone they know and got caught chatting; but when Dad comes home, he has an epic tale to tell full of pirates, vampires (wumpires), and a time-travelling dinosaur. 

Fortunately, the Milk survives each element of the unbelievable adventure. This book is hilarious and ridiculous, but with illustrations from Chris Riddell, you cannot help but get caught up in the action. Each scene is so visual you barely have to suspend your disbelief. 

The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting

The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting
Holly Bourne
London, Usborne, 2014, 448p

It has taken me a little time to come to terms with my thoughts on this book due to the sensitivity of the content. The Manifesto on How to be Interesting is a novel I want to recommend, but it is loaded with issues that should be approached with caution. 

Bree is an academic, creative student. She is a writer. But when she presents her manuscript to her favourite teacher, his reaction disappoints. So Bree decides to embark on a mission to become popular, in the hope that a more interesting life will produce more interesting literature. 

The process is relatively easy for Bree - her parents are wealthy, and her father works with a make up manufacturer, meaning she has instant access to treats to share with her new, popular friends. All it takes is some more fashionable clothes to make everyone realise Bree is fairly attractive, and she has the personality to match. Along the way, her relationship with her best friend suffers; but soon, her crush is taking more of an interest and people around school talk about her in a different way. 

Bourne's novel is a little bit Mean Girls, but with added complexity. For one, Bree's crush is directed towards her English teacher; and secondly, Bree self-harms. Such issues are not easy to tackle in young adult literature - the fantasy element of fiction means many characters who self-harm are blessed with a moment of epiphany when they turn their lives around; many real girls are not so lucky. 

The underlying message of the book is to encourage the reader to be happy in who they are, and to acknowledge that we all suffer from lapses in confidence, even the most popular kids in school. But the challenge that I am left with is how to talk about these matters with my students - not every life has such a happy ending. 

The Forward Book of Poetry 1995

The Forward Book of Poetry 1995
London, Forward, 1995

I love the idea of an impromptu poetry reading from Carol Ann Duffy, Jean Binta Breeze and William Sieghart. Apparently, this is what happened during the meeting of the judging panel for the 1995 Forward Prizes. 

As Cressida Connely notes in her foreword, this collection consists of such an incredible variety of poetry, though much of it is rather longer than my usual preference. There are poems about music, from Marvin Gaye to Joe Meek; poems about love and family and loss; and even poems about poems. 

Peter Sansom's 'Today We Are Shooting Poets' is a funny, clever piece of writing, in contrast to Ann Sansom's celebration of variety in voices. 

There are also brilliantly strong women in this collection, possibly a reflection of Carol Ann Duffy's presence on the selection panel. Helen Dunmore's 'Three Ways of Recovering a Body' is simultaneously tragic and uplifting, but packs a punch alongside the words of Jackie Kay and Louise Hudson. 

And there are poems in here I want to read again and again, and that I think might lead me to writing my own response; particularly Peter Didsbury's 'A Malediction', which just oozes inspiration in it's structure, form and subject. Time to get writing, I guess...

Not That Kind of Girl

Not That Kind of Girl
Lena Dunham
London, Fourth Estate, 2014, 265p

When I found myself painfully jealous of a friend who was reading this book that I realised I had to get a copy. Lena Dunham's biography has caused some controversy already, and although I am not a religious watcher of 'Girls', I must confess I am intrigued by her. 

Not That Kind of Girl is a funny, intelligent and sometimes disturbing account of Dunham's life so far. She talks about health, family and romance, and everything in between. She tells the reader she is a girl with a "keen interest in having it all", and this book is her story from "the front line of that struggle".

Dunham's youth is uniquely peculiar to me. She was born to artistic, liberal parents in New York, and her eccentricity and individuality have always been encouraged. In places, it sounds like she has low self-esteem (for example, when she discusses the common plight of the young woman who settles for a non-relationship with a guy who is clearly not good enough); and at other points, she explodes with self-assurance and good advice. 

I had been warned that this biography is far from uplifting, but it was darker than I had expected, with confessions about her reliance on her therapist and descriptions of rubbish relationships. But within those moments that make your heart break, there are episodes that make you laugh out loud. Mostly, I simply admire her honesty. 

I am conscious I am going through a phase of reading biographies of this kind - those of young, successful, strong women in comedy (see my recent review of Mindy Kaling's book). And I cannot wait to read Amy Poehler's recent release! With each of these women, I find some things to relate to and some things with which I disagree, but what my readings are demonstrating is that the female experience is varied and unique to each person - how can anyone stereotype about women when we are all so different?

Thanks to Jay for inspiration.

Apple and Rain

Apple and Rain
Sarah Crossan
London, Bloomsbury, 2014, 329p

This is such an incredibly and irresistibly heart-warming book, it was a joy to read.

Apple has vague memories of her mother leaving, late one night around Christmas, leaving her with her Nana. And every year, Apple dreams that her mother will come back and claim her again. Nana is loving and well-meaning, and Dad is distantly present, popping up at important holidays; but it is her mother that Apple wants back. 

But when her mother eventually does come home, things aren't quite like Apple expected. She moves away from her Nana, but her mother isn't around much anyway, and Apple has unexpected company in her mother's flat. Apple tries to find comfort at school - she loves her new poetry teacher, but is scared about opening up with the truth; and meanwhile, her best friend is moving on. 

As her mum's absence increasingly becomes a social welfare issue, Apple does all she can to protect her mother from a potential visit from the police. Apple is forced to grow up far quicker than any young girl should have to, and as you read you long for her to be returned to her Nana's guardianship. 

Despite all the badness happening around her, Apple is a patient, contentious young lady. She doesn't get mad at her mother when she is away for days; she is far from the typical teenager. 

Throughout the Apple and Rain, Crossan treats the reader to snippets of Apple's creativity, inspired by great poets and universal themes. At points, it seems like poetry is the only good and true thing in Apple's life. I love the infectiousness of her love for the written word, and I am sure many young readers (and writers) share Apple's fear of sharing her most honest feelings with her teachers and classmates. 

It is amazing that a novel that explores a young girl's confused feelings about her absent mother can be so uplifting and enlightening. 

The Forward Book of Poetry 2007

The Forward Book of Poetry 2007
London, Forward, 2006

2007 appears to have been the year of the incredibly long poem, and yet this collection is surprisingly short. As John Burnside notes in his foreword, the judges of 2007 selected six finalists for each category, instead of the usual five. But the selection of Highly Commended Poems is shorter than usual, and this is where I found the real gems. 

This collection covers as wide a range of themes as any of the Forward Arts Foundation books, but there seems to be a heavier leaning towards poems about the labouring classes than usual, from forestry to mining and beyond. 

Then, there are brilliant accounts of fantasy like Tim Wells' 'On Being Expelled from Eton for Shagging Tallulah Bankhead', which imagines a world in which a working class boy could go to an establishment school. 

Although many of these poems are rather longer than I typically prefer, there are some excellent examples of experimentation with form, including Allan Crosbie's 'Manifesto', the power of which is so difficult to articulate - you will simply have to read it yourself to believe it. 

But I think my favourite is 'Bird' by Clare Shaw - somewhat unexpectedly, as I am not the kind of person who likes stories about animals; I have always responded better to human pain and success. But 'Bird' is so beautifully written, so delicate and innocent, that I could not help but love it. 

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)
Mindy Kaling
New York, Ebury, 2013, 223p

I hugely enjoyed my time with Mindy Kaling. Part of me wants to call her my guilty pleasure, but I have nothing to be ashamed of - I love her writing and acting; if I was a girly girl, I would want to be like her: self assured, embarrassed by nothing, beautiful. 

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? is Kaling's hilarious biography. She recounts her school days, her wild ambition coupled with boring jobs, and her eventual success when she joined the writers of The Office. Her book combines extended lists with long prose accounts, and carries the air of someone trying not to give advice (and sort of failing). 

Kaling possesses a ridiculous amount of passion and knowledge about comedy, listing her favourite comedy moments and recounting friendships that just didn't work out because the other person wasn't as in to it as she is. Since writing this book, Kaling has created her own sitcom, The Mindy Project, and I would have loved this book to contain more of her crazy confessions about this.

A few days after having finished this book, I am still laughing as I recall little snippets of her humour. In particular, I have adopted Kaling's approach to jogging, which is to fantastise about imaginary revenge scenarios. Despite initially finding this idea hilarious, in practice it has proven to really occupy the mind and distract from the pain of running. 

Kaling is open and honest with her reader, telling her most awkward moments and biggest celebrity crushes. But throughout, she is explicitly happy with who she is - she is unapologetic and doesn't really care what anyone thinks, despite confessing to a fascinating with fashion and dieting, interests conventionally possessed by those who care too much what other people thinks. In this way, she has even challenged some of the subconscious presumptions I had about women. She doesn't try and claim that her experiences are the same as any other woman's experiences, and that is what I love most. 

Waterborn

Water Born
Rachel Ward
Frome, Chicken House, 2014, 275p

I have been saving this book, knowing that I would love it. It is the sequel to The Drowning and comes from the author of Numbers, all of which I have devoured. 

Nic is a passionate swimmer, but her overprotective father drives her a little mad. She can't understand his fear about water, especially when she starts to become more successful in the pool. Somehow, she finds the inner strength and focus needed to beat the best of the girls in her club; but as time goes on, the voice in her head starts to scare her. 

This disembodied voice is not hers, and when she turns to her father, she finds more questions than answers. Amongst other things, she finds a list on her dad's computer of girls who look just like her who have drowned. 

It has been some time since I read The Drowning, meaning I had forgotten some of the detail. What I love about Water Born is that it is a brilliant stand alone book, as well as a dramatic continuation of Ward's most recent series. 

The story is haunting and modern, a perfect contemporary horror story. I can see similarities with the Numbers trilogy, but the genius Rachel Ward has found clever new ways of throwing the reader off the scent and allowing the mystery to unfold very gradually. All the action seems to happen within a few final pages, and you are gripped throughout. 

I am definitely not patient enough to wait for the next one!

Slated

Slated
Teri Terry
London, Orchard, 2012, 439p

I am concerned that I am going through a reluctant reader phase. By this, I mean that I am struggling to engage with many books - I only seem to be satisfied reading poetry and a little adult fiction - so I apologise that my blog has not had much variety recently.

In an attempt to get out of this funk, I started Slated before the weekend. Kyla's memory has been wiped. She lives in a society where individuals who conflict with the law have their memories removed, and are given a second chance. Kyla is only sixteen, but the government claims she was a terrorist. She struggles to relearn the basics, like tying shoe laces and crossing the road. But she loves art, and through her drawing, she can put her nightmares on paper and hopefully find some answers. 

This book has sat on my dresser for several days, and I have made little progress. It takes a lot to make me give up on a book, but the pace of Slated was too slow for my liking, especially as there are two sequels. Like many dystopian novels, I like the concept - the idea that nothing is what as it seems, and Kyla must struggle to uncover the truth. Unfortunately, I think there have been so many novels of this vein recently that I can probably predict exactly what is going to happen - the lack of intrigue meant I eventually had to concede defeat and try something new, in the hope of moving on from this rut of being unable to read any teen or YA fiction. 

Oh Dear Silvia

Oh Dear Silvia
Dawn French
London, Penguin, 2013, 432p

Whilst on holiday for half term, having finished Gone Girl far more quickly than I had anticipated, panic began to set in that I would not have enough books to last me the week. Luckily, the wonderful hostel I was in - Ani & Haakien in Rotterdam - had a book swap, so after skimming through a few, I swapped Gillian Flynn for Dawn French, and found a story that had an uncanny number of similarities to it's predecessor. 

Silvia is in a coma. It appears she fell from her balcony, and she is visited regularly by her friend, sister, ex-husband and nurse. Each visit brings with it a one sided conversation - Ed talks about their separation, his resulting depression, and his eventual recovery through his love of nature. Jo, the eccentric older sister, causes mayhem through the ward with her non-traditional methods to try and bring Silvia back to consciousness. And Winnie watches over Silvia every day, trying to offer comfort and nurse her back to health. 

It would appear that Silvia has changed greatly in recent years, and there is some resentment held by her family towards her new friend, Cat. Silvia has aggressively distanced herself from her family, leaving her son, daughter and granddaughter feeling angry and confused. Cassie struggles to find the confidence to visit her mother, whilst Jamie remains in Afghanistan, refusing to come home. 

But as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that this change was the result of a minor, regrettable incident, in which Silvia irreparably ruined her chances of a normal family life. 

This makes the novel sound far darker than it actually is. Oh Dear Silvia is an easy read, and has an optimistic tone. And yet it explores some complex ideas about family and relationships, especially around forgiveness. I was impressed by Dawn French's accessibility and the fullness of her story - what a great transformation from comedian to novelist. 

Brand New Ancients

Brand New Ancients
Kate Tempest
London, Picador, 2013, 47p

I had the privilege of seeing Kate Tempest at the O2 in Oxford last Friday - apparently her first headline tour as a rapper. She was incredibly appreciative towards her audience, and her excitement was infectious. 

She is not just a rapper and a performance poet; she is a writer. Brand New Ancients won the Ted Hughes Prize for innovation in poetry - it is a modern, honest story about characters that Tempest says live and breathe in her mind. 

Tempest's narrative poem argues that we are all heroes of our own lives. She draws on traditional ideas about gods from classic mythology - heroes who were human, flawed, real. Then she creates her own contemporary heroes: men and women struggling with relationships; young people feeling disenfranchised; artists looking for their big break and barmaids seeking fulfillment. 

Within just a few pages, these characters become fully rounded beings. They feel anger, regret and love; lines between good and bad are blurred. 

Brand New Ancients is so clever and relevant. It tells the story of the kinds of individuals that young people can relate to; it is solid and grounded, avoiding all the abstract ideas and images we are spoon fed in the curriculum. 

And if this doesn't convince you to find out more about Kate Tempest, watch this video - how can you not want to read the genius that comes from this mind?!

Gone Girl

Gone Girl
Gillian Flynn
London, Phoenix, 2013, 496p

Another one of those contemporary novels I have been meaning to read for a while, I finally found a few days on my half term holiday to be drawn into the dark, haunting world of Nick and Amy Dunne. 

And all I needed was a few days (my flight was delayed, I was stuck in an airport for three hours longer than expected), despite this being a 500 page novel. Gone Girl is the story of a missing woman and her husband, who suddenly finds himself accused of her abduction and possible murder. Their relationship was on the rocks, and the police find significant evidence that places Nick at the scene of various unsavoury disturbances. And despite having the support of his sister and Amy's parents, Nick finds himself hurled into a media storm determined to drag his name through the mud. 

The novel is narrated through both Nick and Amy - Nick's narrative explains what happens following the disappearance, whilst Amy's diary recounts their past: how they met, their marriage, their move to the suburbs, and their slow deterioration. Nick is clearly not the perfect husband, and Amy's diaries increasingly cast light on a growing fear she felt around him. 

But the narrative is not as honest as it may seem, and in the second half of the novel, a whole new level of psychotic drama unfolds. 

It is so difficult to write about this novel without ruining the plot, though I am sure most people have a vague idea of what happens (especially since the movie adaptation was recently released). 

But I will say that it is a haunting novel about the darker side of relationships. As the story unfolds, it is not just Nick who is revealed to be a dishonest character, but Amy's true colours begin to show. These are not individuals that you root for or support - neither are 'in the right' - but you are gripped as you watch them destroy themselves and the world they have built together. 

Oliver Fibbs: Attack of the Alien Brain

Oliver Fibbs and the Attack of the Alien Brain

Steve Hartley

ill. Bernice Lum

London, Macmillan, 2013, 181p

Oliver feels pretty average compared to his family. His mum is a brain surgeon and his dad is a brilliant architect. His sisters are great at dance and his younger brother is a maths genius. However much they try to work out what Oliver is brilliant at, he still finds himself escaping into the world of his comic books, dreaming of aliens and mysteries. 

At school, he tells epic tales of fantasy adventures, but the other kids just laugh and his teacher simply commends his imagination or tells him off. Unfortunately, being grounded isn't helping Oliver's mission for something real to show and tell. 

Oliver Fibbs is one of those books that is great for the younger or reluctant reader. As we wait for the next Wimpy Kid and Tom Gates books to come out, the boys in my school are occupying themselves with Hartley and Lum's mix of illustrations and comedy storytelling.