Meeting 'n' greeting the greats.
31 January 2016 • anxiety, book signing, bookish, concert, DFTBA, event, events, fan, fangirl, gracie actually reads, hero, hero worship, heroes, idol, Jo Elvin, John Green, joshua radin, meet and greet, social
I
wonder if it's just me (it usually is, whenever I start a sentence
with that) but when I am presented with a magical situation, you know
the one, the one when all my dreams could come true, all my questions
could be answered and a heroic presence in my life could materialise
before me, I get rather...anxious.
I
am referring to, of course, when one has the opportunity to meet
someone. Someone famous, someone they admire, someone who has
influenced their life in a good way.
It
could be at a book signing, a gig, a party, even on the red carpet
perhaps...when these occasions present themselves, it's the most
wonderful and exciting thing.
And
also the most terrifying, at times awkward thing.
Special
VIP meet 'n' greets are nerve-racking. If only because there's the
added pressure, the fact that the celebrity human you're meeting
knows for a fact that you
paid money for a ticket – maybe even paid extra on top of your
pre-existing expensive ticket – for the chance to meet them. To
chat with them. While this is immensely flattering for the celeb,
it's effectively them getting a sense of their worth, it might also
be scary for them because the nicer ones will want to make it worth
your while parting
with extra dolla and maybe queueing for more time...? And you might
suddenly get shy when you come face-to-face with them at the end of
the queue, and you get lost for words and they're freaking out
because they don't know what to say to you...oh, it's a minefield.
Book
signings are especially interesting in this sense. Over the past few
years things have changed to make the whole signing process slicker
and quicker, like for instance they now have assistants sweep down
the queue asking for each fan's name to scribble on a Post-It and
stick to the books, so the author doesn't have to ask 'name?'
awkwardly and they can just sign while chatting. I actually worry for
the author, having to focus on writing a little message and their
signature on the inside page and at the same time make conversation
with their readers on the other side of the table.
As
someone who has been to her fair share (and several others' fair
share) of book signings, I can safely say everything I intend to say
falls out of my head when I actually lock eyes with the authors.
Classic example would be John Green. As he frantically signed my
copies (yes, pural) of The Fault in Our Stars, plus my Harry Potter
Kings Cross ticket because my nerdiness is next level, I faltered
fantastically trying to assemble words into coherent sentences. I
believe the only thing I managed to say was: 'hey John...wow, I had
so much to say and now it's all gone.' Excellent. I only hope that
someday I can rectify that awkward meeting...maybe when we're
chatting over a cuppa and co-writing our second book together.
Anyway,
I managed to make better conversation when I met Louise O'Neill, Lisa
Williamson and David Levithan at the New Day New Normal event at
Waterstones – that was mostly down to the enormous bandage on my
head that I had to have on for three days after my Cerebral Spinal
Fluid aspiration...it was a killer conversation piece.
I
was thinking about meeting my heroes recently, as I've met a couple
of them in the past week. One of whom was Joshua Radin, who if you
read regularly will know is my one true love and my favourite musical
artist of all time, ever; last week I saw him live for the eighth
time, and yes I paid extra to attend his sound check 'performance'
and meet 'n' greet before the show. There was definitely a moment
when I had no clue what on earth to say to him (as there has been the
last three times I've met him) but eventually my fellow meet 'n'
greeters and I just chattered with him about London, whisky,
travelling...it was lovely. I think he relaxed just as much as we did
when we started talking about the Shepherds Bush Empire's roof
falling down and the relocation to funny little Clapham, the fact
that it miraculously wasn't raining...we could have just been pals
meeting up in an old theatre for some reason and catching up.
The
other hero of mine I met last week was Jo Elvin. Yes, Jo Elvin,
editor-in-chief of Glamour magazine. Yes, her. She was hosting the
Mind Your Head book
event at the gorgeous new Waterstones Tottenham Court Road; she
chatted with Juno Dawson and Olivia Hewitt about their new
non-fiction release, asking questions here and there, and watching
her I remembered the days when I'd spend my pocket money on Glamour
magazine in Tesco Express across the road and read it cover to cover
as I walked to and from school, or when I was tucked up in bed at
home with biscuits when I was really supposed to be revising for
exams...I idolised Jo. I still do. I could never do what she does –
I want to, but I don't know if I have the drive, the flair or the
decision-making powers!
So
after the talking, when Juno and Olivia were signing books, I saw Jo
wandering the shop alone, looking at books with a glass of wine in
her hand, and I thought...I can't not. I must say hi. I asked friends
for assistance, saying 'I have nothing interesting to say to her!'
over and over...but I knew I'd kick myself if I didn't talk to her
even a little. So I did. We had an actual conversation! About
blogging, about books, about Australia. I rambled madly at her, my
stupid hybrid accent intensifying due to nerves and her
accent; she smiled warmly, asking about me
which I found insane but lovely. I gave her blogging advice to pass
along to her daughter. By the time my friends retrieved me, my legs
had gone numb with excitement and I was grinning like a complete
freakzoid. It was magical.
I
will be encouraging myself to talk to my heroes more, from now on.
Following my recent positive experiences in which I pushed on through
my social awkwardness and the crippling hero-worshipping fangirl
tendencies that overcome me far too often...
I'd
rather meet the hero and waffle endlessly in their face like a
complete tit, than leave the event and be upset with myself for not
saying anything all the way home, forever regretting missing my one
opportunity...
I
wonder if one day I'll be a hero of someone's; someone that people
might want to meet and have a conversation with. That would be
mind-blowingly cool. However, I would definitely never want anyone to
feel that way with me. The way I do when I meet my idols.
Awkward...and just generally 'what's the point I have nothing
worthwhile to say'-ish. I'd never want that. I'd want to chat!
(Me meeting John Green and floundering epically)
Colouring & Drawing, too!
30 January 2016 • adult colouring book, adult colouring books, be kind to your brain, book, book review, bookish, books, brain TLC, colour me mindful, colouring, gracie actually reads, mental health, review, tbc, tbr
Now, I've reviewed Colour Me Mindful before, specifically the Butterflies edition in all its loveliness. Also Colour Me Mindful books have been on my TBR list before - under their own category To Be Coloured! So you might say I'm a major fan of this range - and Anastasia Catris, the genius artist.
So imagine my excitement when I hear about this fun new colouring project - Draw Your Way to a Younger Brain! The latest art therapy series by Anastasia Catris.
What makes this series different to the previous books? This one includes drawing! That's right, on some pages you are just given an outline alongside the original illustration, so you can go wild and create your own colourful patterns, and creatures!
Oh, I adore the creatures. Especially the Cats book. I am a cat colouring connoisseur, with no fewer than four cat colouring books stacked up on my desk, and I find that Anastasia's illustrations are the loveliest.
The other two books,
are beautiful also. I'm not a dog person (oh shh, we can't all be!) but even I find these images adorable and inviting.
It's a freakish coincidence that recently I wrote a post for The Olive Fox entitled 'Be Kind To Your Brain' which contained a few tips and ways to, well, be kind to your poor tired mind...and one of those tips was colouring!
These books are designed to assist your brain. I love my brain - yes, despite everything it's put me through - and taking care of it is top priority. So hearing that these books not only help with anxiety and focus (which is why I began colouring in the first place!) but also your memory and cognitive functions...I am thrilled beyond belief and I needed them in my life immediately! The tagline is 'draw your way to a younger brain', meaning you'll be more alert and retain more information. That's magical!
Dream Jobs..........plural!
23 January 2016 • career, colleagues, dream job, dream jobs, Fantasy, future, gracie's life, ideas, job, jobs, life, passions, plans, workplace
Growing up, I went through a lot of
'dream job' phases.
I fancied being an artist from an early
age, for some reason I thought I could make it big and get my artwork
out there to the masses...bless baby Grace.
Then I moved on to 'author'...if I'm
honest, I haven't quite grown out of this just yet. But we'll get to
that later on.
When choosing my subjects for A Level
studies, I toyed with the idea of doing Psychology, or Philosophy. I
ignored the fact that my brain doesn't work* in the way required to
take those subjects. I had it in my head to 'get realistic' with my
career aims. So obviously I was thinking of becoming a Drama
Therapist. Or an Art Therapist. Someone who helps those in dire need
of counselling and direction with the aid of art and dramatics...a
great thing in theory, but I am nowhere near equipped for that! My
goodness.
A rather cool job would be putting on an art exhibit in London which every piece is made from LEGO...(Art of the Brick, Nathan Sawaya)
After seeing a live show in Seaworld,
Australia, I was suddenly desperate to become a fully qualified
dolphin trainer. One of the team of gorgeous tanned professionals who
rode the dolphins across the pool and sent them soaring into the
skies while the crowds applauded.
I definitely went through the 'acting'
phase. I took GCSE then A Level Drama & Theatre Studies, got
perfect grades and stupidly thought this was it, I was made for a
life in the spotlight. Then I had my first ever Drama lecture at uni
(doing my degree in Drama & Creative Writing combined honours)
and met my fellow students, all of whom took their acting so so
super-seriously, and planned on attending Drama schools in London
following the BA graduation. They could all dance and sing, too. I
just enjoyed acting – I wasn't even all that good at it, really.
Not when compared to my most excellent theatrical peers. So yeah, I
decided against going down the acting route very soon after starting
my degree. Luckily, the Creative Writing part of it reminded me just
how badly I wanted to be a writer. So that was a huge win!
I am currently working as a barista –
which is an instant tick on the Dream Jobs list! I've always loved
and been fascinated by coffee; I blame and thank my parents for
taking me and my sister to all the best high street cafes in our
younger years. Anyway, making caffeinated drinks is an incredible act
of artistry. I am so terrified I don't measure up some days – then
I remember I was a Regional Finalist for Nero's Barista of the Year.
*brushes shoulder*
Yes, my ultimate career goal is...WRITER.
I am so determined and so passionate about this. It's something I
must do. I doubt I could do much else, to be honest. Nothing else
gets me as fired up, as excited and inspired. It's a little scary how
much I want it.
However, I realised some time ago that I
don't have to be just that, and that alone, for my entire life. I can
do other things, too. I can have my list of dream jobs – just jobs,
not necessarily careers – and I can do them all on my way or
alongside being a hot-shot writer. Right?
So, here they are...
Celebrant.
This idea came to me when I saw my auntie
get married (in a wild nature reserve, in Australia, about seven
years ago) by a civil celebrant. A woman in a stunning cream suit
with a high-tech Gwen Stefani wireless mic, who married my auntie and
uncle without any priestly powers or religious affiliation.
And then one of my neighbours got trained
up to be a celebrant – it made so much sense, she's beautiful and
dynamic and down-to-earth!
Celebrants do weddings, yes, but also
funerals...that would be the one snag for me. I've only been to two
funerals in my life, and only one of them really hurt me, but it hurt
enough for me to never ever want to go to a funeral again. I know
I'll have to, but I won't if I can help it. I'm an emotional wreck!
If I had to head up a funeral, I'd weep relentlessly. More than any
of the family members present.
The idea of marrying two people, though.
That's magical.
Social Worker Person @ a charity.
When I was introduced to the hospital in
which I'd have my radiotherapy treatment, I was also introduced to
Elsa, the social worker/magical human who works for Clic Sargent in
dealing with struggling young people/children with horrible
diagnoses.
She sat with my mum and I, going through
all our awesome options regarding care – she told me I was eligible
for appointments with any and all specialists in the entire hospital
(I wish I'd made an effort with the dietician...) and then presented
me with all manner of leaflets. This is how I first discovered the
Little Princess Trust – because I was eligible for one of their
beautiful real-hair wigs! I declined as politely as I could because
my gosh, save that amazing stuff for the little kiddies! It was what
inspired me to donate my hair and over £2,000 in friends' donations,
though...
Anyway, Elsa was an angel, an actual
angel. I'd love to have a job like that; a job in which I have to be
there for people, take care of them and offer them all the lovely
things they are so totally entitled to.
It helps that I've had this awful
experience – sometimes that's what inspires you to follow these
paths in life. I have a friend I met in outpatients once, who
struggled with a tumour just like I did, and he is now determined and
destined to be a physiotherapist after being taught how to walk again
after his surgery. Amazing, right?
Publishing.
I don't care what I do, I have to work in
publishing. I simply must. It's the most amazing field – even just
tweeting my pals in publishing and receiving book mail from a couple
of publishing houses blows my mind. I would absolutely love to work
in an office with the gorgeous people who make, distribute and
publicize books. I'd work so so hard, and of course go nuts all over
social media. Ooh, I'd make an excellent social media manager...
News reporter.
I'm aware that this is a little out of
reach, especially since a lot of my pals who did Journalism at uni
had to have special training in presenting news in front of a camera
– and even then, only a few of them could do it!
But still...I would love sitting at the
BBC desk reading out the headlines. Maybe for South East Today. Maybe
next time I make Polly a double macchiato, I can ask her about job
opportunities...Loads of my friends have said in the past that they
can see me doing this, and while I wonder why, I'd hate to disappoint
them!
Something abroad.
I have friends who have uprooted and
moved to gorgeous places all over the planet for epic new jobs –
the whole TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) has taken
off, and so many of my friends are now out there in
Japan/Korea/Thailand teaching lovely kids how to speak our language.
That is amazing. I'd love to do something like that...but then again,
I cannot teach. Nope, never.
Obviously
I'd love to maybe work for a publishing company, or a newspaper, or a
TV channel, abroad. But nothing too stressful, nothing that would
spoil the whole 'abroad' experience. I plan on travelling in this
beautiful new year 2016, and I hope my barista skills will stand me
in good stead for casual jobs here and there...
So, those are my aims, my goals. Who
knows how many of these awesome jobs I'll manage to tick off my list?
I'd be happy with just one or two...preferably the 'author' one...
Keep your fingers crossed for me,
friends!
And please oh please tell me what your
dream jobs are!
Twitter: @GracieActually
Instagram: @gracieactually
*yes, I am aware that my brain doesn't
work very well at all. Silly old brain, growing things here and
there, and then soiling itself repeatedly mood-wise. Ughh.
I have a syndrome!?
22 January 2016 • bedtime, brain, dreams, personal, plans, radio, radiotherapy, side effects, sleepy, somnolence syndrome, the tumour tale, tiredness, update
The
other day I found myself stirring in my lovely bed,
cat by my side obviously, and the sun was streaming through my
window. How odd, I remember
thinking. It's not light early these days...
Then
I hear the radio trickle through my muddled consciousness from the
next room. That'll be a good indicator of the time! I
smile smugly at my brilliance. I don't even have to reach over (and risk a snooty glare from the cat) to grab my phone from the bedside table and see what time it is!
I strain and hear an old-school Scottish accent – forever reminding me of a budget edition of Terry Wogan –
oh, Ken! Right so that means it's after 9:30...then
I hear a female recorded voice shout 'THREE in TEN!!' and I spring up
in bed. That's the final part of Popmaster! It must be
10:45 or 10:50! Shit! How did I sleep in this late?!
Somnolence
Syndrome. That's my lot, that's what I got. I'm so happy there's a legitimate-sounding name for my
current condition. Just saying 'tiredness' seems lame, or worse,
fake. Saying 'radiotherapy-induced tiredness' sounds a little
serious, and yet at the same time silly...? I've said 'the radio sleeps' a few times, that
seems cool and offhand enough while at the same time oddly legit...
Basically,
I'm mega tired and constantly sleeping, and it's down to my
radiotherapy. Yes, I am aware that my radiotherapy ended 8 weeks ago
(wait, that's 2 months!? Holy sh--) and that I was supposed to expect
the tiredness kicking in as the treatment went on; literally every
consultation with a specialist during the treatment they'd say 'You
will lose hair soon/you will get tired soon/you will get SICK SO VERY
SICK SO SOON BE AFRAID GRACIE' and yet nothing was happening for the
first five weeks. In fact, it wasn't until the car journey home after
my last complete week (with only two little days left the following
week) that I found some hair was coming out in my hands as I ran my
fingers through. I actually thought oh, FINALLY.
Same when I started sleeping more heavily at night – 10 hours
errrry night! – and even when I started getting sad. When The Sads
returned, I worked up the courage to mention it to the radiographers
and they were delighted almost to tell me that it's normal and not
nice but totally expected...the nicer cells get a whack from the
radiation too, and all that.
The
one thing I didn't get, however, was the tiredness. Like, not just
the heavy night-time sleeping, no the actual overwhelming tiredness
day-to-day. It never happened. I couldn't help but think 'Well, my
surgeon said I'd sail through this, so...'
I
was duly warned that sometimes symptoms take a while to catch up with
you, that often patients would find they'd get the tiredness up to 10
weeks down the line. That sounded horrific – I'd hate to have
things catch up with me! No,
thank you. I banished that thought and for the last few weeks (as
y'all may know) I've been planning the future and generally getting
my shit together. Booking events, arranging meetings with the manager
at work, writing more and more...also I am currently looking into
travel insurance so I can fly (the consultant the other day told me I
could fly and I legit freaked out with happiness) out with some pals
on another magical Euro expedition. It's all go.
So
obviously, this is when it hits me.
I
can't remember when exactly it struck, but I do remember having
action-packed days one week, back and forth from London, walking
anywhere and everywhere, seeing theatrical marvels, getting drunk and
disorderly in my precious little town, and meeting up with old
friends, new friends, all of the friends...I'm not scientifically
sure, but I'm fairly suspicious that my extra activities were what
brought it on all the more. Like y'know, girls, how extra exercising
brings on the periods? Just like that!
One
day I napped unexpectedly in the afternoon for three hours solid –
no waking up and rolling over, even, I'm talking hardcore heavy
sleeping. I woke up for dinner and panicked that I'd be up half the
night having napped...nope. I slept the whole night through as well.
Then the next day I had real trouble getting out of bed in the
morning. The cat came in and snuggled with me – as he's been doing
constantly lately, because I maintain he is psychic –
and I fell back to sleep. I got out of bed around midday. Then the
next day, which I recall was a Sunday, I stayed in bed all day.
Almost. I got out once, to make myself some sandwiches despite not
being hungry, and I fell over onto the kitchen floor. I was so weak
and wobbly, I had to crawl back upstairs with my plate. The parents
were out, in case you were wondering – they've been rocks, as per,
since this started. I have food made for me and baths run for me; I
get walked up and down the stairs, tucked in on the sofa, and I'm
never urged to get up and out because they know the feels are real.
It's
overwhelming. I really mean that. It's like a magical spell – like
I've been cursed to sleep forever! I
can't explain it, really...it's like if I laid down on the sofa right
now and shut my eyes, I'd be out in minutes. I am never not tired. My
legs are jelly, my head is heavy and my yawning is constant and
eternal. I yawn for actual minutes, now. Also my dreams are the most
vivid they've ever been, which would be cool if they weren't also the
most realistic they've
ever been...eeek.
A lot of the time I keep
dreaming that I just...get up in the morning. Seriously. I am
constantly dreaming that my sunny alarm tune (Bill Withers, obvs) kicks in, I sit up and
get out of bed, go down the hall and shower, then crack on with my
day. These dreams are so freakishly spot-on for my routines and
movements when I'm not flat on my back trapped in sleepiness, I do
wonder why they're popping into my head. Is it my brain torturing me
even further? Is it normal for somnolence sufferers? I wonder.
The
specialist tells me it should last 2-3 weeks. That's fine, it's
already been just shy of 2, and I do have days now when I can stay
awake and sit up more, so it must be getting better...maybe.
I
made it to an event in Tottenham Court Road last night, so that's
definite progress! (to be fair, I was never going to miss out on that
exciting event for the new non-fiction Mind Your Head at a
brand new Waterstones, oh no!)
Next
week I have a lot more on, and the week after even more...so it's
like I'm expecting to be better by then! Like I know somehow that
I'll be waking up next Wednesday morning and skipping out the front
door. I admire my idiotic optimism, sometimes. Or is it body
intuition?! Let's hope so...
Panther: review & interview!
16 January 2016 • author, author interview, book, book review, bookish, bookworm, David Owen, gracie actually interviews, gracie actually reads, interview, Panther, review
Oh hey there, bookish friends and wanderers who have stumbled across this blog. Ready for a book review??
Book reviews are such fun to write, and I have been trying to do more lately. Part of the reason this one has come into being is that the author of the book has suggested most subtly that I do one, the fool...well actually, he knows he's safe as this most excellent tale made it into my 2015 Best Reads post. Here's a little more on why...
So, I met David at the UKYA Lit Weekender at the Southbank Centre some months ago (he spoke on the most excellent panel about mental health – and general health – in fiction) and we chattered for a little too long (sorry, I can be intense) about the wonderful city of Winchester and the uni, our shared alma mater. I bought Panther from a stall at the event, partly because I was so wowed by the reading and then discussion on the panel, and partly because my pal Jack was tweeting me about how great the book was, and basically insisting that I buy it. I take his word as gospel. Oh also, I was fascinated by the story. Obvs.
So, I was able to email the excellent David Owen and ask him a few questions about the book...
~ Where did the initial idea for Panther spring from? Was it a moment, a discussion or a maybe just a word?
I grew up on the border between Penge and Beckenham in south east London, and one of the only things of note (except that the latter is where David Bowie did his first performances, *sniff*) about these suburbs is the persistent rumour of a wild panther on the loose. It's been spotted enough for the rumour to have some credence, and the police have even been out with a helicopter to look for it (remind you of anything from the book?) Plus a friend of mine, who is rational as they come, thinks he saw it, and can't offer any other explanation.
So! I always a bit taken by this idea, and wanted to fit it into a story for a long time. Separate to that, depression is something that has affected my family for many, many years. My older sister suffered with it very badly as a teenager, and at that age I really struggled to understand just what the heck was going on. It was only later, when I was diagnosed with it myself, that I really began to understand.
Somewhere along the way it struck me that the panther was a perfect metaphor for depression: dark, powerful, lurking under the surface of daily life, something many people refuse to believe exists. I used the idea to draw on my personal experience, and that's how the book happened!
~ The suburb in which the story takes place seemed rather specifically designed; did you see a certain place that you liked for the story, or maybe do any location scouting to help inspire?
It's based really heavily on my childhood home, which I'm sitting in right now, in fact! It's suburbia, and there's an allotment out the back, where the panther has been sighted a couple of times. In writing the book I made a lot of changes, specifically making the allotment much bigger, but it is altogether similar.
~ What made you want to tell a story of the family of someone with depression? Rather than having a main character with mental health issues?
As mentioned in my first answer, depression is something I've seen from both sides. There were times growing up when it really felt like depression would tear my family apart, and I felt really powerless. And baffled! I just couldn't understand it. What did she have to be depressed about?! So instead of being supportive, and trying to help, I almost certainly made it harder for her. It's only later that I realised how terribly I behaved.
I hope that by focusing on the family around the person directly suffering, and how they fail to understand and communicate, it might encourage people to do the opposite of that. There's still huge stigma around depression and mental health, and by being more open and supportive, more willing to talk and understand, we can start to dispel that.
~ Why did that thing happen at the end that broke my heart? (Legit question)
~ And finally, I have to ask this one obvs...where is your favourite spot in Winchester? Any perfect writing spots in that funny old city?
It's not terribly original, but I think my favourite place on the planet is the top of St Catherine's Hill on a sunny day. I've been up there with friends to muck about or sunbathe, I've been up there alone when I was heartbroken, and it used to be part of my running route (in my fitter days!). It's a beautiful spot, and it means so much to me. Oh, Winchester ❤
Book reviews are such fun to write, and I have been trying to do more lately. Part of the reason this one has come into being is that the author of the book has suggested most subtly that I do one, the fool...well actually, he knows he's safe as this most excellent tale made it into my 2015 Best Reads post. Here's a little more on why...
The picture is of a panther AND A BOY. V cool. Took me a while to see, ngl.
So, I met David at the UKYA Lit Weekender at the Southbank Centre some months ago (he spoke on the most excellent panel about mental health – and general health – in fiction) and we chattered for a little too long (sorry, I can be intense) about the wonderful city of Winchester and the uni, our shared alma mater. I bought Panther from a stall at the event, partly because I was so wowed by the reading and then discussion on the panel, and partly because my pal Jack was tweeting me about how great the book was, and basically insisting that I buy it. I take his word as gospel. Oh also, I was fascinated by the story. Obvs.
Panther is about a teenage boy, Derrick, who is suffering in his family home as his older sister is depressed. She's even attempted suicide (his mum is now hiding all the sharp kitchen utensils). What's more his parents are split up, his best friend has turned on him with all the moronic meat-heads at his school, and he's suddenly seriously overweight. So...things are rather shit for Derrick. Then he hears news of a wild animal roaming his suburb, being hunted but never caught by the authorities. An invisible beast, a panther. Derrick takes it upon himself to catch it.
I found this a fascinating read as it provides another angle on depression; the family of the one who is afflicted, and how it affects them. How heartbroken it makes them and at times downright resentful they are towards her. The story communicates how much of an effect depression can have on a person - Derrick complains that Charlotte's always crying, always locked away in her room screaming. For no reason, allegedly.
A favourite part of mine was when Derrick had a proper discussion with his dad about personal matters; without spoiler-ing here, the dad of the family had some personal struggles of his own and said that they may have contributed to the end of the marriage between the parents.
Another favourite part was, weirdly, when the best friend got his come-uppance for betraying poor Derrick. What he did was just totally uncool. Hearing Hadley (the girl Derrick always crushed on) say 'all he did was stick it in and lie there' was oddly satisfying, too. Maybe because Derrick enjoyed hearing it so much...
Yes, my empathy for Derrick was immense as the story continued. An interesting thing I found was that the book was written in third person and yet Derrick's inner monologue, his hopes and fears, his thoughts that became actions, were so perfectly communicated! His personal reasons for eating a whole lot more suddenly and as a result putting on loads of weight - ultimately his need for control and this being the best way he could get it - are somehow completely understandable. As is his yearning to catch this beast in his suburb - he needs the personal victory, to be hailed a hero in his town and of course impress others. The school bullies maybe, the girl he loves...his family, too.
One other genius factor in the tale has to be the panther, the beast in the shadows, and its use at times as the perfect metaphor for depression. Derrick's obsession with defeating it, capturing the thing that's causing such drama and pain...well, it was much like his sister's dark diagnosis. At times it felt like Derrick was so upset and angry that he couldn't control that awful thing in his life, so he had to take on a project, something else he actually could exert a little power over. Maybe. Could he?
A favourite part of mine was when Derrick had a proper discussion with his dad about personal matters; without spoiler-ing here, the dad of the family had some personal struggles of his own and said that they may have contributed to the end of the marriage between the parents.
Another favourite part was, weirdly, when the best friend got his come-uppance for betraying poor Derrick. What he did was just totally uncool. Hearing Hadley (the girl Derrick always crushed on) say 'all he did was stick it in and lie there' was oddly satisfying, too. Maybe because Derrick enjoyed hearing it so much...
Yes, my empathy for Derrick was immense as the story continued. An interesting thing I found was that the book was written in third person and yet Derrick's inner monologue, his hopes and fears, his thoughts that became actions, were so perfectly communicated! His personal reasons for eating a whole lot more suddenly and as a result putting on loads of weight - ultimately his need for control and this being the best way he could get it - are somehow completely understandable. As is his yearning to catch this beast in his suburb - he needs the personal victory, to be hailed a hero in his town and of course impress others. The school bullies maybe, the girl he loves...his family, too.
One other genius factor in the tale has to be the panther, the beast in the shadows, and its use at times as the perfect metaphor for depression. Derrick's obsession with defeating it, capturing the thing that's causing such drama and pain...well, it was much like his sister's dark diagnosis. At times it felt like Derrick was so upset and angry that he couldn't control that awful thing in his life, so he had to take on a project, something else he actually could exert a little power over. Maybe. Could he?
~ Where did the initial idea for Panther spring from? Was it a moment, a discussion or a maybe just a word?
I grew up on the border between Penge and Beckenham in south east London, and one of the only things of note (except that the latter is where David Bowie did his first performances, *sniff*) about these suburbs is the persistent rumour of a wild panther on the loose. It's been spotted enough for the rumour to have some credence, and the police have even been out with a helicopter to look for it (remind you of anything from the book?) Plus a friend of mine, who is rational as they come, thinks he saw it, and can't offer any other explanation.
So! I always a bit taken by this idea, and wanted to fit it into a story for a long time. Separate to that, depression is something that has affected my family for many, many years. My older sister suffered with it very badly as a teenager, and at that age I really struggled to understand just what the heck was going on. It was only later, when I was diagnosed with it myself, that I really began to understand.
Somewhere along the way it struck me that the panther was a perfect metaphor for depression: dark, powerful, lurking under the surface of daily life, something many people refuse to believe exists. I used the idea to draw on my personal experience, and that's how the book happened!
~ The suburb in which the story takes place seemed rather specifically designed; did you see a certain place that you liked for the story, or maybe do any location scouting to help inspire?
It's based really heavily on my childhood home, which I'm sitting in right now, in fact! It's suburbia, and there's an allotment out the back, where the panther has been sighted a couple of times. In writing the book I made a lot of changes, specifically making the allotment much bigger, but it is altogether similar.
~ What made you want to tell a story of the family of someone with depression? Rather than having a main character with mental health issues?
As mentioned in my first answer, depression is something I've seen from both sides. There were times growing up when it really felt like depression would tear my family apart, and I felt really powerless. And baffled! I just couldn't understand it. What did she have to be depressed about?! So instead of being supportive, and trying to help, I almost certainly made it harder for her. It's only later that I realised how terribly I behaved.
I hope that by focusing on the family around the person directly suffering, and how they fail to understand and communicate, it might encourage people to do the opposite of that. There's still huge stigma around depression and mental health, and by being more open and supportive, more willing to talk and understand, we can start to dispel that.
It's also something of an apology to my sister. Thankfully things didn't end quite so badly for us, but it was a close thing at times, and I wish I'd done more to help. I don't want anybody else to make the same mistake.
~ Why did that thing happen at the end that broke my heart? (Legit question)
Okay, so, I've got a bit of stick for this, and I genuinely think it might have hurt the commercial prospects of the book, because I think most YA readers want hope and happy endings. But that wouldn't have been right for Panther. There may be spoilers ahead!
That thing happens because I thought it was important to show that it's a very real possibility if depressed people do not have help and support. Suicide is responsible for something like 20% of deaths in young people. Which is ridiculous. It's a horrible thing to do in the book, and it was so painful to write, but I felt it was the only honest outcome. All the characters around Charlotte are convinced that if she gets her grades, and goes to university, her depression will magically disappear. They pin their hopes on external circumstances, and fail to understand that it's so much more profound than that. If she was alright in the end, after getting her grades, it would have proved them right. It would have felt like a magical solution, something which simply doesn't exist. This family doesn't communicate properly, so they can't understand and offer support, and what happens is a very real possible consequence.
That thing happens because I thought it was important to show that it's a very real possibility if depressed people do not have help and support. Suicide is responsible for something like 20% of deaths in young people. Which is ridiculous. It's a horrible thing to do in the book, and it was so painful to write, but I felt it was the only honest outcome. All the characters around Charlotte are convinced that if she gets her grades, and goes to university, her depression will magically disappear. They pin their hopes on external circumstances, and fail to understand that it's so much more profound than that. If she was alright in the end, after getting her grades, it would have proved them right. It would have felt like a magical solution, something which simply doesn't exist. This family doesn't communicate properly, so they can't understand and offer support, and what happens is a very real possible consequence.
Some reviews have said that they read it as depressed people having no hope, no other possible outcome. If it reads that way, I am so, so sorry. That isn't my intention at all. Suicide is never the solution. But it still happens in huge numbers, and I had show that. It's too important to ignore.
~ And finally, I have to ask this one obvs...where is your favourite spot in Winchester? Any perfect writing spots in that funny old city?
It's not terribly original, but I think my favourite place on the planet is the top of St Catherine's Hill on a sunny day. I've been up there with friends to muck about or sunbathe, I've been up there alone when I was heartbroken, and it used to be part of my running route (in my fitter days!). It's a beautiful spot, and it means so much to me. Oh, Winchester ❤
~ See other reviews & buy Panther here! ~
~ Follow David Owen. Do it. He is brilliant, funny and has a cute cat. ~
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All about the words.
14 January 2016 • articulate, author, favourite, favourite word, favourite words, favourites, friends, gracie's life, life, tweet, tweets, Twitter, word, words
So
the other day in hospital, where many of my best stories occur, I was
asked while waiting for some exciting blood forms to be filled out
what my favourite word is.
And
my mind went blank.
My
first thought that fell onto the thick white snow inside my mind was
'what kind of writer am I if I can't think of my favourite word?!'
I've
since come to the conclusion that I couldn't think of a word at that
moment because I was put on the spot; I'm so awful when put on the
spot! I panic and yes, more often than not I leg it in pure, hot
terror. I'm trying to get better at it, though, I swear. I mean, if I
plan on someday working for a magazine or newspaper, or taking part
in Mock the Week's Scenes We'd Like To See round with my fellow
ingenious stand-ups (just a silly little fantasy, no biggie)...I'll
need to up my on-the-spot game, for sure.
Anyway,
I then of course tweeted about this terrible moment, asking my
totally rad and completely articulate followers what their favourite
words are. I then promptly napped after sending the tweet out (that
was one nap of four yesterday; radiotherapy side effects have well
and truly caught up with me, at last) and awoke to 20+ replies! All
of them excellent, of course. Here are some of my favourites of my
friends' favourite words...
Some
people (@TheGeorgeLester, @rorotbd) actually said 'fuck'. Their
reasoning being 'it is applicable in any situation', which is true!
It can be totally fucking good, it can be downright fucking vicious.
See?
Hold
on, I'm jumping on a tangent – what's everyone's favourite swear
word? Mine is either 'shit' (so satisfying, I mean hello!) or
'bollocks' (preferably said in my mama's Aussie accent).
And
what about the least favourite? Mine is probably the C word. Not
because of the way it sounds – it sounds awesome – no, because it
carries too much power. That's why I've only uttered it aloud twice
in my life, and both times I absolutely meant it. That's exactly
what's wrong! Having said that I also hate it when 'ladz' are
constantly saying it and calling one another it...ugh, such a tangled
web of words.
Tangent
ending in 5, 4, 3, 2...
I
realise how words can often be tainted by the sense in which they are
used; or whom is using them. For instance, I have an aversion to the
word 'excess' after hearing it said repeatedly (always pronounced
incorrectly) by a slimeball while he was throwing grapes into his gob
onstage.
I also detest, slightly more understandably I reckon, the word 'tumour'. Even before I learned that I had one, I hated that word. I remember Frank Jr Jr saying it in Friends 'He's like my old dog, Tumour!' (para) and thinking why the frick would you call your pet TUMOUR?! I mean, really! It's just a yucky word. I realise I give it a lot of power, mind you, because I deliberately avoid saying it as much as possible - which takes a lot of skill in my situation. Even now, typing it on my laptop, I'm blushing and squirming.
I also detest, slightly more understandably I reckon, the word 'tumour'. Even before I learned that I had one, I hated that word. I remember Frank Jr Jr saying it in Friends 'He's like my old dog, Tumour!' (para) and thinking why the frick would you call your pet TUMOUR?! I mean, really! It's just a yucky word. I realise I give it a lot of power, mind you, because I deliberately avoid saying it as much as possible - which takes a lot of skill in my situation. Even now, typing it on my laptop, I'm blushing and squirming.
Also, a Brit's most hated word, it seems...that word. The 'M' word. The
word that indicates something is...damp, wet, soluble? A face can
become this word if a specific type of cream is used; a cake on GBBO
often has an issue being too much this word or not this word
enough...y'all know what word I mean now? Good. So I don't have to
type it. Or say it*. Ever.
I
weirdly love the word 'loathe'. It's delicious. They say 'hate' is a
strong word...'Loathe' is stronger, and better. Yum.
Also,
'silver'. And 'sliver'. Both supple and slippery words, both can easily be applied
in perfect situations, e.g.: 'silver jewellery' or 'a sliver of lemon
poppyseed cake'.
I
also find I go through phases using a certain word more than usual,
and right now that word is 'excellent'. Usually prefixed by 'most'.
Most excellent. No idea why I am loving that phrase right now, but
I'm rolling with it. Yes, 'rolling with it' is a favourite phrase
too.
Quite
a few folks also said 'iridescent'. And 'serendipitous'. Both lovely!
Reminded me that I love the words 'descent' and 'serene'.
So
I still don't know what my favourite word is. Yes, my blank snowy
mind is looking clearer now and that's not the problem. I now have
too many options for a favourite word!
Oh
also, anyone who didn't reply to that tweet...what's your fave word?
This
is definitely a question I'll be asking famous folks one day when I'm
interviewing them on the red carpet or in a hotel over coffee between
snaps on their big shoots...
*I
don't actually dislike the word 'moist'; I just don't want to offend
anyone by typing it. Sorry, disclaimer readers.
Welcome to January.
11 January 2016 • 2016, back to work, gracie's life, hangover, January, new year, new year new me, new year same old, new year's day, new year's eve, nye, same old
I
can't be the only one who woke up on Boxing Day thinking 'oh shit, I
have to get my life in order!' Can I?! I feel that is perfectly
normal.
I was panicking all day on the 26th, listing all
the things I had to do like, ASAP. Things like complete the fledgling first novel, queue up 10+ blog posts, read 20+ books...and also clear out
my wardrobe, tidy up and tone down my hair, fill up my diary with
awesome events, and maybe whack out my hardly-used aerobics step at
least once a day from now on. The alarm bells were going off: it was
time for a re-model, a re-think...a gosh-darned revival of ME.
And it had to happen immediately.
I
spent the empty, mind-numbing Limbo DaysTM (December 26th
– 31st; I mean seriously, what do we do with those days except eat leftovers, watch endless films when they're shown on TV despite having the DVDs and/or Netflix, drink at lunchtime and just feel generally unusual and lost?!) planning out the 2016 Gracie; the girl who had
no health concerns and no personal drama, the girl who could read
four books in a matter of hours, the shimmering force of positivity,
the soon-to-be-discovered legendary author, the girl who signs off
emails with her blog URL and the name Gracie rather than boring old
Grace...there was a lot to plan out and a lot to put into action.
Fortunately,
I could palm off the grand reveal of the new me and all the work that
came with it until...January. January was a magical faraway land full
of promise and self-pride. Everyone was feeling it – friends,
family, even strangers in the street, all of them buying indulgent
products they weren't given for Christmas and making coffee dates in
sparkling new diaries, oh yes. 2016 was set to be OUR YEAR, folks. I
had my own reasons for thinking this, for actually jumping on board
with the New Year New Me nonsense, but I did get swept up all the
more in all the excitement surrounding me. Bring on January!
Well,
here we are. January. *blows little kazoo*
Has
anyone else felt their New Year hype die down lately? Or is that just
me? It was suddenly squashed and packed away just the other day, I swear.
Again,
I have my own reasons for feeling this way (my radiotherapy
after-effects have finally caught up with me and I am tired all
the damn time, like literally having four naps a day or just not
even leaving my bed, such a buzzkill am I right?!) but it's not just
me. Other friends have all told me that they're still feeling
positive and optimistic as can be, however right now they're up
against it. Why? I think I know why...
It's
a January HangoverTM!! Much like New Year's Eve itself,
when the countdown finishes and you've all stopped singing drunkenly,
arms linked, this anti-climax tidal wave hits you and it's really
quite hideous. I'll admit I didn't get that this year, miraculously,
because I was at a kick-ass party in London with some quality people,
but still. I remember having that feeling every other year. I think
it follows a pattern, y'know.
We
have the sinking feeling after midnight NYE, then New Year's Day, the
day of aimless hungover wandering questioning everything that's
happening in your life; then the first week or so of January you are
properly hyped and happy, excited for the promise of the year ahead.
There's a slight blip on the radar which is going back to work...all
my proper allegedly adult friends with 9-5 lifestyles went back on
the 4th January this year, and homies I was feeling for
ya. I really was. In my favourite coffee shop. Having the best cake. Mmm.
Then
of course when everyone makes it through the first week back at work
they're doubly hyped and overjoyed; they celebrate and decide that
they're off to a good start in this new year thing.
And
then, slowly but surely, you realise that this new year thing is
overrated and you're still the same person you've always been, just
with a slightly better grip on reality and a fresher mindset. And
hopefully a stronger urge to do fun things! For instance, I've decided
to see one gig or theatrical thing every month (not a huge aim I
know, but that would be more than last year!). Plus I've booked in
(via the most excellent Jim, obvs) so many exciting book launches and events, oh my! I'll
be blogging about each and every one of those... Also I'll be doing
ALL of the writer-type work experience weeks, here there and
everywhere! So yes, 2016 will be exciting and different, in the best
way. I'll be different, too. Hopefully in the best way. Just right
now I'm overcome with those muddled January feels...
Best Reads of 2015 & Must-Reads 2016.
2 January 2016 • 2015, 2016, amreading, book blogger, bookish, books, gracie actually reads, last year, new year, reading, reads, tbr, to be read, top reads of 2015
So,
we all know I can be truly tragic at time-keeping, right? Well, if
you didn't know that about me I suppose you do now. Oops. It's one of
my many new years resolutions to fix this; I have a feeling that this
will be the resolution that falls by the wayside as I focus on the
much more exciting and important ones, but the intention is there, I
swear...
Anyway,
my most recent terrible time-keeping has been in blogging. I have
written so many posts lately, I've been on such a roll (and no doubt actually saying this will jinx me for several weeks).
I've
written about the importance of loving your body, the normality of,
well, loving your body mm mmm yeah, a little something
about my feelings on the traditions present in weddings, a good old
rant about friends in relationships/third wheelin', my personal
highlights of 2015 and resolutions/hopes for 2016, even a teeny piece
about how I first found out Santa was not a legit human...
..........................................................and
yet I really struggled to get this one out there, to compile this
very important list!
My Top Reads of 2015!
In
fact, I have left this so late that I have decided to simply condense
and combine it with my Desperate To Read 2016 post. My New Year TBR! Yes, that's right, yet another TBR post.
Right
so, here we go...
2015
was a big year for me in terms of books. Around the beginning of the
year I finally acknowledged and accepted that my love of YA fiction
was not a guilty pleasure, but a real genuine legitimate...pleasure.
A real love. And I mustn't be ashamed of that! YA has been such a
mind-blowing and much-needed addition to the literary world. Little
did I know that come the end of 2015 I would have not only met –
and in some cases chattered with, bought cocktails with and even
cuddled up with – some of my favourite YA authors, but we would all follow
one another on social media and a whole community of book
bloggers and booktubers would be welcoming me into their fantastical
world with open arms and perfect cuppas.
The
UKYA community has been wonderful, to say the least. I'd actually say
that back in November when I was undergoing intense radiotherapy
treatment each day, the highlight of my week was coming home on
Friday evening – because at 8pm I'd be sitting on the sofa
half-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine with
the family, but mostly engrossed in the incredible #ukyachat
discussing all things bookish and YA with all my amazing pals!
Anyway,
I could go on and on about this community for the entirety of this
post, but I must stay on task. For now.
This
year my Goodreads challenge was 35 books in a year. I surpassed that,
which was actually a shock as I'd thought what with full-time work,
my problematic brain needing medical assistance, and (finally)
writing my own novel, I'd have almost no time to read. How wrong I
was. One major helper here was whenever I was visiting friends in
other cities or towns scattered around the country I'd be travelling
on a train with headphones in and my nose in a book. I finished so
many books on three-hour train journeys – I started taking more
than two with me per trip.
I
find the Goodreads 'My Year In Books' thing so awesome. It reminds me
what I loved most, and also tells me which books are generally read
most (or liked least) by my book-loving peers.
PLEASE
NOTE: these were all books that I READ in 2015. They may not all have
been released in 2015. Cool.
Oh also, I would post a photo of all of these books in a very artistically assembled stack, however most of them are currently on loan to various friends, so...
Reasons
to Stay Alive, by Matt Haig.
I've
written about the awesomeness that is this book already in the 'BooksThat Changed My Life' post; because that's what it did. It changed my
life. I then lent my copy to all my friends and family members that I
thought would enjoy and benefit from reading it, and also needed their life changed and their brain explained (at
least in part) by Matt Haig, my Twitter friend and life guru.
This book taught me more about mental health than any medical documentation I've been given in the past; even more than all the blog posts on the subject I have read over the last couple of years combined. I saw myself in so many of Matt's experiences and feelings, yet also couldn't comprehend the intensity of his suffering.
This book taught me more about mental health than any medical documentation I've been given in the past; even more than all the blog posts on the subject I have read over the last couple of years combined. I saw myself in so many of Matt's experiences and feelings, yet also couldn't comprehend the intensity of his suffering.
Obviously
I'd recommend this book to anyone and everyone – however I also
feel like I should warn y'all before you read it. It will change you.
This
book has been a huge hit this year, and was up for the Waterstones
Book of the Year award (it should have won); right now it's
Waterstones Non-Fiction Book of the Month!
In
my house we've always joked (joked most seriously, mind you) that the
word 'normal' is ugly and unwelcome. It's a swear word. I'm so glad
to have grown up believing this, believing that 'normal' is just not
a thing, not something you can
put your finger on, but I know some kids and adults have their own
ideas about the concept and some will do whatever they can to get it.
To get normal.
This
book was the most perfect account of two teens trapped in the wrong
bodies; finding their way in the world and being oppressed by society
(perfectly represented in their playground).
David
& Leo are the most perfect misfits. David wants to be a woman. He
frequently takes notes of his observations about his body, and has
his secret goals in mind. Leo is the new kid at school, with the
mysterious past. David is determined to befriend him, to find out why
he seems so surly and angry at the world. They become unlikely pals
and tackle some of their biggest issues together.
This
is one of those books that I find hard to summarise as a) it's so
much more than the perfect story, and b) I don't want to give too
much away...
TBR
2016 (onwards): Lisa's
next novel. I'm already excited for it, and I have a feeling I will
identify with it a ridiculous amount.
BOTH
BOOKS OMG by Louise O'Neill.
Oh
c'mon, if you follow me on Twitter and/or Instagram (@gracieactually
on both, yeah) AND if you regularly read Oh No (which you totally
should) then you'll know that my love for Louise O'Neill is eternal
and knows no bounds. I tend to tweet her when tipsy. I have no shame.
I believe at one point I was even trying to set her up with one of my
uni friends/exes.
My
love for her began when I read her ingenious debut Only
Ever Yours, then rapidly
escalated when I attended the New Day New Normal tour
at Waterstones Piccadilly, and then just when I thought it could go
no further I read Asking For It and,
well...whoa.
Only
Ever Yours is
about women
in a futuristic and oppressive misogynistic world. As in, misogyny is
the norm. This is a world where females are not born, they are
designed.
They compete with each other. This story was dystopian deliciousness;
Freida will soon be
graduating
from her school, these are her final few months being taught and
trained before the Ceremony in which she and her classmates will be
put on their future paths of Companion, Concubine or Chastity.
Asking
For It (#NotAskingForIt) is the
story of Emma, a girl in a little Irish town who wakes up one morning
on her front porch after a mad party the night before. That day
photos of her, unconscious and in hideous compromising positions with
the lads from the local team, the town's sporting heroes, are
released onto social media. She was raped. Gang-raped.
The
story follows her in the aftermath of this awful occurrence, and it
is possibly the most brutal and painful read I've experienced in a
long time; it's terribly excellent. And so, so important. I want it
to be a mandatory module read someday in every school in the UK.
I
also want to be Louise when I grow up. For now I'll settle for being
her bestie/embarrassing little sis.
The Next Together, by Lauren James.
I read this book in a week – and that was only because I was savouring it so so much. The majority of it was read in the cafe on the second floor of the Natural History Museum; when sitting there I alternated between devouring Lauren's beautiful words and scribbling down ideas for my second novel (I know I know, I should really finish the first...first...)
Katy and Matt have met before. Several times. As Matthew and Kit, as Matt and Katherine...they are secretly destined to be together, to meet and get together, in so many alternate lives. Their coming together is inevitable, but their relationship is turbulent – mostly due to the disasters they face and the fatalities that occur. Sadly those fatalities are also inevitable. The powers that be try to assist as best they can, but it's rather complicated work...
The story was perfectly told through historical documents, diary entries, emails, notes and of course the loveliest prose. I fell so madly in love, again and again.
2016 TBR: The Last Beginning. Lauren's sequel to this tale that I already know will be epic and heartbreaking and gorgeous. When the last page of The Next Together featured those three words, that amazing title – and then my annotated copy (which I will treasure forever and always, thank you Lauren I properly love you) had the word SOON written beneath it...yes, I squealed.
Am
I Normal Yet? by Holly Bourne.
2015
was the year I discovered Holly Bourne. I read The
Manifesto on How To Be Interesting in
January, on my trains to and from work. I then got hooked on The Site, the rad website Holly worked on giving advice and guidance to
young adults in their day to day lives and struggles (then my wicked
friend Louise got a job there and made me a Peer Editor and omg).
Holly's style of writing is magical; funny, identifiable, insightful
and just perfectly readable.
Am
I Normal Yet? was amazing.
Teenage Evie has OCD and is on the road to recovery after a
particularly challenging time with her illness. She's feeling things
for bad boys, making friends with awesome girls who are reclaiming
the word 'spinster', and generally working hard to appear, well,
normal. This book covered so many crucial topics, and it covered them
brilliantly.
Holly
Bourne is very present in my TBR
2016: Soulmates is
already cued up on my bedside table, and in February How
Hard Can Love Be?, the next in
the Spinster series, finally makes its way onto the shelves and into
my desperate mucky hands.
I
was sceptical when I first picked up this book. Mostly because it's only 100 pages long...but
when I sneaked a peek at a few pages while browsing in the shop, I
was entranced by the writing style – and the sheer brilliance of
Kaufman's imagination.
Tom
is a normal guy. All his friends are superheroes, though.
He's even married to one, The Perfectionist. She's unfortunately been
hypnotised into believing he's not there. On their wedding day, by
her evil ex Hypno. He has to now convince her that he's really there,
before she moves away forever.
After reading this I snatched up another of his novels, The Tiny Wife, found that just as imaginative if not quite as hysterical.
Panther,
by David Owen.
I
was first introduced to David at the UKYA Lit Weekender at the
Southbank Centre some months ago; he was talking in the most
excellent panel about mental health – and general health – in
fiction. I heard he'd studied Creative Writing at Winchester uni, and
try as I might I could not play it cool upon hearing this. Then I
learned he'd done the BA, then an MA, then taught some of my friends!
So obviously we had a chat afterwards, as we are Winchies and
therefore eternally linked in life...
His
debut novel Panther is
about a boy, Derrick, who is suffering in his family home as his
sister is depressed. His parents are split up, his best friend has
turned on him, and he's suddenly seriously overweight. Then he hears
news of a wild animal roaming his suburb, being hunted but never
caught by the authorities. An invisible beast, a panther. Derrick
takes it upon himself to catch it.
I
found this a fascinating read as it provides another angle on
depression; the family of the one who is afflicted, and how it
affects them. How heartbroken and downright resentful they are.
I
did see David after finishing reading Panther,
at the prestigious event that is #DrinkYA, but couldn't work up the
nerve to ask questions...the burning question being 'why did that
thing happen at the end? No, the other thing?' I still want to
know...
One,
by Sarah Crossan.
Twins. Conjoined twins. Tippi &
Grace, Grace & Tippi. They have two separate hearts and minds,
but are simply stuck together from the waist down.
This was the last book I was reading
while having radiotherapy. I do believe I finished it on my last day
of treatment – I devoured 300 pages in one morning. The way it's
written really is something else. It's the most poetic prose. Somehow
Sarah Crossan managed to cram an immense load of feelings into just a
few words, beautifully composed on the page.
Also, this particular Grace may be my new favourite
namesake in a novel.
There are many more books I read and adored this year, obviously, but these are just a few that stood out to me. THEY ARE NOT a Top 10, I'd never be able to do that...putting books in order of preference seems barbaric and impossible.
I managed to capture a lot of my New Year TBR in my latest TBR-type post, however there are so many more I had forgotten to include...c'est la vie.
Counting Stars, by Keris Stainton (AM READING/LOVING CURRENTLY, YAY!)
The Wolf Wilder, by Katherine Rundell.
The Sin Eater's Daughter, by Melinda Salisbury.
Unbecoming, by Jenny Downham.
The Sky is Everywhere, by Jandy Nelson.
Glass Sword, by Victoria Aveyard.
The Big Lie, by Julie Mayhew.
Spectacles, by Sue Perkins.
Waiting for Callback, by Perdita & Honor Cargill.
...plus all of the amazing books my gorgeous friend Michelle sent me after I won a giveaway on her awesome blog!
And all of the perfect books my lovely and extremely generous Secret Santa (Luna!) sent me for UKBBSS...
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