Monday, 28 March 2016

Storytelling's New Frontier?

Today I want to talk a little bit about storytelling and narrative in non-traditional mediums. Specifically, in computer and video games. 

I’ve been an avid gamer since being introduced to a PlayStation back in the late 90s and am currently part of a 6 console household, with myself and my hubby owning a PS2, Nintendo Wii, Xbox 360, PlayStation 4, a Nintendo DS and a Nintendo 3DS between us. That’s three generations of consoles represented (four if you count the backwards compatibility of the PS2 that allows it to play original PlayStation games) and it’s really interesting to note the different attitudes towards storytelling and narrative drive between the older games and those now appearing on the newer console iterations.

Sam & Max Hit the Road artwork.jpgBack in the day, when I first became aware of computers and computer games, the medium was still relatively basic. Console classics such as Sonic The Hedgehog and Super Mario Bros were massively popular but most console titles didn’t really go in for narrative. I mean, does anyone really understand why Bowser keeps kidnapping Princess Peach? And, more importantly, does anyone really care? I think it’s fair to say most people didn’t play Mario for the story. If you wanted a game with a little more narrative depth, you had to look to your computer; long the home of text-based narrative titles and point-and-click adventures such as Broken Sword, Sam and Max Hit the Road (pictured right, with artwork by Steve Purcell) and The Day of the Tentacle.

As consoles developed and became capable of more complex games, it’s surprising of how the focus remained largely on gameplay as opposed to story. I was, and remain, a huge fan of TombRaider II but I can’t say that I was driven to play it by the plot which, if I remember correctly, revolves around a magical dagger that can turn people into dragons (yes, really). And I love the Resident Evil franchise but I’d be the first to admit that story isn’t one of its strong points and efforts to introduce a complex narrative in more recent titles has led the series so far down the rabbit hole that it’s struggling to retain its fan base. You play Resident Evil to shoot zombies in the head is all I’m saying.

Image result for final fantasy vii charactersAdmittedly, there were exceptions to the rule. J-RPGs such as the Final Fantasy series (pictured left) have been telling amazing, complicated and often downright weird stories for many years. And The Legend of Zelda and Metal Gear series' have both put serious investment into their story arcs over the years. But I can definitely see why critics and storytellers stuck their noses up at computer games and saw them as a less complicated narrative form.

Image result for everybody's gone to the raptureAll of that has changed in recent years, particularly in the most recent console generation. The game that prompted this post is a curious recent release by developers The Chinese Room called Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture (pictured right), part of a new breed of games known as ‘walking simulators’ (although I prefer ‘interactive narrative, which seems less dismissive) in which the player is placed in an extremely pretty environment and left to explore, with story emerging as you do so. 

The Midwich CuckoosEverybody’s Gone to the Rapture takes place in the 1970s in a sleepy English country village where everybody seems to have disappeared, leaving in their wake a mysterious trail of light that encourages you to follow it. The game is unashamedly influenced by classic British sci-fi and playing it led me to the work of John Wyndham, specifically to ‘The Midwich Cuckoos’, his classic tale of aliens in our midst set in, you guessed it, a sleepy English village. In all my long history of playing games and reading books this is the first time that a game has ever led me to a book and, importantly, that the narrative of that game has lived up to the narrative of a book which is very similar in both tone and theme. ‘The Midwich Cuckoos’ is an excellent book and Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture is an excellent game. Both of them tell their stories in quietly sinister, creeping way and you get a sense of mounting horror as you progress through both. In short, both are excellent stories.

Image result for bioshock infiniteIt is possible to argue that walking simulators are not really games. Many gamers see them more as interactive stories and it is true that there is little agency or player directive in Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture. But, in recent years, there have been a wealth of games that offer similar narrative depth with more traditional gameplay mechanics. The Bioshock series (pictured right) is almost as famous for its deeply involved, extremely complicated lore (which has definite Lovecraftian overtures) as it is for its immense enemies and cool plasmids. The recently re-booted Tomb Raider franchise has a story written by Rhianna Pratchett, which sees Lara Croft develop relationships with other characters and places real emotional force behind your dealings with both them and with her. Even previously gung-ho titles such as first-person shooter series Call of Duty have realised that it pays to have some decent story elements in your single player campaign if you want to encourage people to actually play it.

Games media and pre-release information increasingly focuses on the story as much as it does on the graphics and the gameplay. Developers have realised that a good story helps fans to invest emotionally in the world and that, in turn, encourages them to spend more time in it and to play more games and, hopefully, to buy the next one. Divergent story arcs, dialogue choices and multiple endings, once the preserve only of specialist RPGs, have become the norm across so many games that, to be lauded for your storytelling, developers now have to really push the boat out. I’m not going to say that storytelling in games is as developed as that in a novel or book series just yet because it’s definitely not. But games certainly aren’t cases of style over narrative substance any more. There are some fantastic stories out there just waiting to be discovered and, hopefully, many more still to come.


Do you agree that games have become more narrative driven? Do you see interactive narratives as possible competitors to traditional mediums? Or is a book a book and a game a game and never the twain shall meet? I’d be interested to know your thoughts so drop me a comment down below, tweet me @amyinstaffs or find me on Goodreads

Thursday, 17 March 2016

February Wrap Up 2016

Yes, I am aware that we're halfway through March but I figured better late than never! February was a month of two halves for me. I started the month by rapidly reading the four really enjoyable books that form this wrap up. I then hit a slump about halfway through when I started 'Gold Fame Citrus', which was a worthwhile but somewhat sluggish read so have, as a result, read very little in the last ten days or so. As a result, my wrap up is slightly shorter for February than usual – but it’s quality and not quantity that counts, right?!

The Midwich CuckoosThe Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham

I’m not usually a huge reader of science fiction and, as a result, most of the classics of British sci-fi have passed me by. Having been drawn to Wyndham’s work by my experience playing the PS4 game ‘Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture’ (more on that in an upcoming post) however, I decided it was high time to experience his writing for myself, especially given that Penguin Books have just republished a number of his works in paperback with gorgeously illustrated covers.

The Midwich Cuckoos follows events in the sleepy English village of Midwich following the events of ‘Dayout’, a 24-hour period in which all of the residents fell asleep and, after which, all of the women find themselves inexplicably pregnant. Taking place both immediately after the events of the Dayout and then returning 9 years later, once The Children of Midwich have grown, the novel is a classic tale of aliens in our midst and the extent that a species will go to in order to survive.

I immediately liked the way that Wyndham combined an alien invasion with the conventional concerns of a quintessential 1950s English village. Whilst undoubtedly frightening and horrific in places, there is a wry humour running throughout the book, which works both to lighten the mood and also to provide a contrast between the warm humanity of the Midwich villagers and the cold otherness of The Children that they have unwittingly played host to. The book raises some interesting questions about how we perceive and deal with the ‘Other’, both as individuals and as a society, and the ending, whilst grimly inevitable, does not provide easy answers to these questions. Packing in a lot more than its slim appearance would suggest, ‘The Midwich Cuckoos’ is an enjoyable and thought-provoking slice of British sci-fi and I look forward to reading more of Wyndham’s work.


Ali Smith is a writer who I have always heard praised but have never got around to reading despite having both ‘The Accidental’ and ‘How to be Both’ on my shelves. Having tried to begin her work in the past, I was put off by the lack of punctuation (Smith isn’t a fan of defining speech in her work) and the occasionally diversion into the realms of the literary highbrow. Basically, I have to date found her work a little daunting.

However, with the release of this; her latest collection of short stories, I decided to bite the bullet and really give Ali Smith a go and I’m so glad I did. The collection, which celebrates the power of the written word and the importance of libraries, intersperses Smith’s weird and wonderful stories with short interviews and quotations from famous types explaining the importance of maintaining and cultivating library services. The two mediums bounce off each other very nicely, with the stories providing a mirror to the interviews. The transformative power of words is an overarching theme, from the opening story in which a woman’s struggle for expression results in her sprouting leaves to the amusing contrast between a complaint to customer services and the long-standing correspondence between two writers.

Smith’s writing is very beautiful and I very much enjoyed her style, although it does sometimes benefit from a little careful unpicking to really get beneath the surface of the words to the meaning. This makes the collection one to dip into and out of, savouring each story rather than wolfing them down in one go. And I still really do prefer to have speech marks and a full range of punctuation as guidance when reading!


My quest to read more excellent graphic novels and comics continued this month with this fabulously funny fantasy, which combines Tolkien-esque questing and mythical beasties with a lot of swearing, sex and ass-kicking fun! The series follows Elven mage Hannah, Dwarven fighter Violet, atheist Human cleric Dee and rogueish Smidgen Betty as they uncover a conspiracy that could bring down the world around them and result in them being turned into troll doo-doo faster than any of them can down a pint.

Filled with wit, sass and, yes, a fair amount of sorcery, this volume collects issues 1 – 5 of the comic and builds the story nicely, introducing the reader to ‘the Queens’, their messy lives and loves and also to the wider world and story arc around them. The writing is quick, sharp and filled to the brim with adult humour, and the art style is colourful and active, with plenty to occupy the eye in each frame.

My first encounter with an ongoing comic series, ‘Rat Queens’ is definitely a step on from the YA realms of ‘Nimona’. This is definitely an adult comic, with swearing, sex and violence aplenty – although it’s never gratuitous and I loved how the characters stayed at the fore of the story at all times. I’ve already purchased Volume 2 (which collects issues 6 – 10) of this series and believe Volume 3 is too follow shortly. On the basis of the opening, ‘Rat Queens’ is definitely a series to stick with and I’m looking forward to joining Hannah, Vi, Dee and Betty on their next adventure!

The Tomb in Turkey (Fethering, #16)The Tomb in Turkey by Simon Brett

I’ve spoken previously about my love of Simon Brett’s cosy mysteries, which always provide an easy-to-read, welcome distraction from the trials and tribulations of everyday life. ‘The Tomb in Turkey’ is the fourteenth in Brett’s ‘Fethering’ series of mysteries and follows laid-back, hippie healer Jude and her uptight, anxiety-stricken neighbour Carol as they take up an offer from the not-at-all-dodgy property tycoon Barney Wilmington to spend a couple of weeks in the sunshine at his luxury villa. It’s not long before the intrepid duo stumble across a tomb that’s far more recently occupied than it should be and, with a disappearing body and a personal vendetta to complicate matters, it soon looks as if Carol and Jude’s holiday is going to be dangerous business!


As always, Brett’s writing is fun, relaxed and wryly observant. Whilst the Fethering mysteries are never too taxing, there are a fair number of false leads and red herrings before the real culprit is revealed and, in ‘The Tomb in Turkey’, the whole thing is bathed in sunshine and a real sense of the summer. Another enjoyable read for fans of cosy mysteries from one of the modern masters of the genre! 

Sunday, 6 March 2016

REVIEW: Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins

Gold Fame CitrusI have to admit to being a sucker for a good post-apocalyptic novel, so the premise of Claire Vaye Watkins’ novel ‘Gold Fame Citrus’ had me instantly hooked. Desert sands have laid waste to the south-west of America and the vast, rolling waves of the Amargosa Dune Sea have left California, and anyone still living there, stranded. Luz and Ray, survivors of the Mojave population, are not leaving. They survive on water rations, black market food and each other. Then Ig explodes into their fragile lives. Two years old, undernourished and wild, Ig needs Luz more than anyone ever has before. So Luz and Ray steal her and now the only way to survive is to escape the wasteland. Venturing into the dark heart of the Amargosa, Luz and Ray must hunt for a better life for themselves and for Ig. For in the middle of the dunes, there is supposed to be a camp of believers. And they are supposed to be led by a man who can find water.

From the outset of the novel it is clear that, whilst the setting is post-apocalyptic, Watkins is more concerned with exploring the frontiers of the heart than the desert frontier that her characters find themselves in. There is a surprising lack of world-building in the first part of the novel and, at first, I did find myself struggling to understand what was going in. Watkins throws terminology (Mojave, Amargosa, Raindance) around without ever really explaining it and, at first, I felt bombarded with words and situations without anything to ground me in the world of the novel. It also doesn’t help that, at the start of the book at least, Ray and Luz are also frustratingly bland characters, their sole purposes in life to be needed and to be needy respectively.

Get over the first third of the book however and ‘Gold Fame Citrus’ really takes flight. From the discovery of Levi - a prophet-like dowser - and his camp of followers who roam across the desert, moving with the rhythms of the Dune Sea; the novel turns into an examination of the myths that we tell about ourselves and others, the fiercely selfish things that we will do to survive and the ways in which the will to survive leads both the needed and the needy to exploit those around them. Luz in particular, develops enormously as a character as we see her struggle (not always successfully) to develop her own place in the world, one in which she is no longer simply a dependant of those around her. Levi is also an interesting character, both charming and sinister all at once and it is easy to see how he has gathered followers around him, with his romantic tales of the Amargosa and the life it contains.

Watkins’ writing throughout ‘Gold Fame Citrus’ is undoubtedly literary. Her prose is often bare, even verging at times on the vulgar (if you’re not a fan of the f-bomb, the c-bomb and purple prose sex scenes, this might not be the book for you), but for the most part it is effective in conveying her meaning and themes. Sex features prominently in the book for example, and Watkins’ doesn’t hold back in her portrayal of this, but it is always used cleverly as a way for characters to connect with each other in ways they cannot seem to reach though words. It serves a purpose, and it’s often not a romantic one, and is very skilfully done. Unfortunately, other passages do not work quite as well. There are many lists – whole paragraphs or pages where a character is reciting everything they can see or can remember – and this gets terribly dull after a while. And sometimes you can’t help but wish that Watkins would just use a simple word instead of regurgitating a dictionary.

Ultimately ‘Gold Fame Citrus’ was a really mixed bag for me. If I hadn’t been reading for review, I doubt whether I would have made it past the first 100 pages, which I really don’t think work as an opening; but I did very much enjoy the latter stages of the book when it became apparent what Watkins was doing with her characters, her world and her overarching themes. Luz and Ray aren’t likeable protagonists but they become very human, especially Luz, and it is worth sticking with them and becomes very interesting to watch them both develop in unexpected ways. And whilst the language and style didn’t always work for me, Watkins can clearly write, and write extremely well. I’d certainly read more from her in the future, even if ‘Gold Fame Citrus’ wasn’t for me, an unmitigated success.


Gold Fame Citrus’ by Claire Vaye Watkins is published by Quercus and is available now in hardback from all good booksellers and libraries. My thanks go to the publisher and to the Real Readers scheme for supplying me with a copy of the novel in return for an unbiased review. 

Monday, 29 February 2016

REVIEW: Wolf Winter by Cecilia Ekbäck

Wolf WinterWe recently had a small sprinkling of the white stuff here in the UK. Nothing to compare with the snowstorm that ravaged the east coast of the USA to be sure, but enough to put me in a wintery mood and make me hunt out a ‘snowy’ book. Given that it has winter in the title, I was hoping for good things from ‘Wolf Winter’ - which has been warming my actual Shelf of Unread Books since early last year – and it didn’t disappoint, providing a perfect slow burn, curl-up-by-the-fire-with-a-mug-of-tea kind of read.

Set in 1717, the novel follows a family of settlers – Paavo, Maija and their two daughters Frederika and Dorotea – as they survive their first winter on Blackåsen Mountain in Swedish Lapland. A day’s journey from the nearest town, the inhabitants of the six homesteads on Blackåsen have learnt to ignore their secrets. But when a man is found dead not half an hour’s walk from Paavo and Maija’s homestead, Maija cannot believe that a wolf is the cause. For what wild animal cuts a body so clean? As the chill of winter cuts evermore harshly and Maija digs ever deeper into the lives of those around her, secrets are uncovered, old superstitions are aroused and the darkness of Blackåsen begins to take hold of everyone.

As I said at the beginning of this review, this is a slow burn book. Ekbäck throws you right into the story and doesn’t take a lot of time to explain the setting, time and place or characters. Instead the reader has to let the novel slowly unravel to reveal these things, which can be a little disconcerting at first as the beliefs and social structure of Swedish Lapland at this period are quite different to our own. The political situation in Sweden at the time also becomes very important as the book progresses but, again, the reader is largely left to infer this and to develop an understanding of it as the plot unravels. After a while I really didn’t mind this and actually felt it added to the way the story was told, but it did make the book somewhat difficult to get into at first and I imagine it might put some readers off. At the end of my copy of the book (the Hodder & Stoughton hardback, published 2015), there was a really interesting author’s note and author interview which explained more about the setting of the novel and the historical context so this filled in any blanks I still had remaining and was a nice piece of additional reading.

Once you get past the initial confusion however, the novel develops into a multi-layered, suspenseful literary thriller which is dark, eerie and skillfully written. Although the pace remains relatively slow, so much is happening beneath the surface that every conversation that the characters have and every action that they take becomes imbued with meaning. It is this gradual enveloping of the reader, at first disconcerting but later so immersing, that gives real strength to the writing. Seemingly incidental observations and remarks become all-important later on and, as a reader, this can really knock the wind out of you as you realise that both you and the characters have passed up on an important clue. 

The characters themselves also operate in a complex and multi-layered way. There are no one-dimensional stereotypes here, with each of the three narrators (Maija, her daughter Frederika and the local priest Olaus) having their own individual traits and flaws and their own world views. I liked Olaus the best, although at first he seems stuffy and judgmental; and really enjoyed following him as he grew into greater self-knowledge and awareness of the world around him. He goes from being a passive observer to an active agent in the story and, possibly, in the future of the country and I’d have loved to know what he was going to do next at the end of the novel! Maija is a very forthright character but, for someone so determined, she is also running away from an important part of herself and her past. This made her a frustrating person to be in the head of sometimes because, as reader, you can see what she is trying to ignore but are unable to make her act on it. That said, Ekbäck does an excellent job of keeping you on her side by gradually revealing what has made her the way she is. In contrast, Frederika is probably the character who changes the most as the book progresses. At first she is very much a child, unsure of herself and her place in the world but she really becomes a force in her own right and is the character who becomes most connected to the shamanistic spirituality that has a hold on the mountain, which was a really interesting strand of the book for me. The clash between her developing personality and that of her mother Maija was also extremely well-observed. 

Before I wrap this review up, I should also mention Ekbäck’s writing itself which is wonderfully poetic and very visual. You get a real sense of the mountain and the landscape and the writing imbues the setting with a sense of underlying magic that adds to the creeping realization that all is not well with this world. It’s very skillfully done.

All in all, this was a really good read for me and I enjoyed it immensely. It’s definitely a book that requires considered reading and you do need to invest some time and effort to really get the most out of it but I certainly think that is worth doing. The first 50 pages or so are admittedly quite slow but, once you’ve got a grasp of the characters and their situations, the novel really takes hold and pulls you further and further into the lives of this very insular community and the secrets held within. Similar in tone to Eowyn Ivey’s ‘The Snow Child’ (another great winter book if you haven’t already read it), I have also heard ‘Wolf Winter’ mentioned in the same breath as Hannah Kent’s ‘Burial Rites’ (which has also been warming my TBR shelf for a while) so would imagine it will appeal to fans of both as well as to anyone who likes their Scandi crime to come with a dash of the poetic. 

'Wolf Winter' is published by Hodder & Stoughton and is available now in paperback from all good bookshops, online retailers and libraries!

Monday, 15 February 2016

January Wrap Up

January has been a really frantic month for me. It’s always a busy time of year in the day job so I seem to have to admit to having felt as if I’ve been living at the office for a good portion of the month. It’s therefore been a real challenge to stay focused and keep motivated on my reading. Even for an avid book nerd like myself, it is all too easy at the end of a stressful day to choose vegging out in front of the TV or catching up with some Youtube videos over actively engaging with a book. Fortunately, I’ve had some good books to keep me on track and managed to keep my reading goals and resolutions at the forefront of my mind – those 75 books aren’t going to read themselves! I was also boosted by taking part in the #AYearAThon Readathon challenge, which ran from the 4th – 10th January; the theme of which was ‘Benchwarmers’ (i.e. books that had been sitting on your shelf for over a year) and, as a result, got two books – both of which I’ve been meaning to read forever – finished in that week alone. The first of which was…

His Dark Materials (His Dark Materials, #1-3)The Subtle Knife by Phillip Pullman

Finally! I’ve had this on my TBR for about 10 years now (since I first read ‘Northern Lights’) and have picked it up and put it down again on countless occasions. With the help of the absolutely gorgeous combined Everyman edition and the #JenandHollyHDM readalong on Twitter and Booktube however, I have finally got to the end of the second book in Pullman’s epic fantasy series. Having now finished the book, I can see why I’ve previously found it so hard to get through. 

Following the dramatic climax at the end of ‘Northern Lights’, the start of ‘The Subtle Knife’ seems slow and, if I’m being honest, just a little bit dull in places. There’s a lot of world-building at work here, with Pullman pulling together the many strands that are going to move the trilogy from just being Lyra’s story (as it is in ‘Northern Lights’) into an epic adventure encompassing many different characters across a number of different worlds. Get over that initial shift of pace however and the story really gets going, turning into a genuinely dangerous and complicated mixture of power, politics and a fight to define the future. 

By the end of ‘The Subtle Knife’ I was absolutely gripped and I cannot wait to finish Lyra and Will’s adventures in the concluding novel ‘The Amber Spyglass’.


I have long admired Stephen Collins’ astute and amusing cartoons in The Guardian’s Weekend magazine. His art style is simple and clean but very effective in getting across a point, and he has an acute sense of the absurd that puts an extraordinary spin onto ordinary events. So when I found out at that he had released a graphic novel, I thought this would be a good place to start in my quest to read more in this format through 2016. Plus it has the most amazing title ever – who in their right mind wouldn’t buy a book about a gigantic evil beard?! 

The book is a beautiful chunky hardback filled with Collins’ fabulous black and white pencil drawings. The story revolves around the inhabitants of a place called Here. Here is neat, ordered, beardless. Everybody knows what is expected of them and everyone does exactly that. Surrounding here is an unknown place called There. There is the home of disorder, untidiness and unpredictability. Everything that Here is not. Which is why it is so frightening when, one day, ordinary resident of Here Dave, bald except for a single hair, is assailed by a beard. A terrifying unstoppable beard. Where did it come from? What does it want? As the residents of Here struggle with these questions, the reader is invited to examine how we treat those who do not conform to social norms, the right to free expression in society and the role of creativity in our lives. 

Dark, unusual and unique, this is a Roald Dahl-esque fable for the modern world. It’s also about a gigantic beard so, seriously, go out and read it already.


A Window OpensA Window Opens (Audiobook) by Elisabeth Egan, read by Julia Whelan

It seems to have taken me forever to listen to this audiobook. It is by no means long (having a run time of 11 hours and 40 minutes) and is excellently narrated by Julia Whelan, who brings out the wry humour and acerbic wit at the heart of the novel. Similarly the story, which follows wife and mother-of-three Alice Pearce as she moves from a job as a part-time books editor to a full-time publishing professional with hipster startup Scroll, is, for the most part, light and easy to follow. So, if I enjoyed it (which, ultimately, I did), why has it taken my nearly three months to listen to this book? 

I think it’s probably because I really have to be in the right mood for this kind of book. Although well told, Elizabeth Egan isn’t doing anything that hasn’t been done before with ‘A Window Opens’. Woman gets new well-paid job and becomes major breadwinner. Woman struggles with balancing work and home life. Woman becomes alienated from her family and friends. Woman re-evaluates what is important to her. So far, so ‘I Don’t Know How She Does It’, ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ and countless others. 

Which is not to say the book is without substance – it does raise some genuinely interesting questions about the pressures of modern life, the intricate juggling of marriage, parenthood and work and the increasing demands that ever-connected modern businesses make on their employees. Alice is also, for the most part, a likeable narrator – although her passivity and tolerance towards her idiot husband Nicholas (who veers between supportive spouse, emasculated doormat and grade-A jerk), did have me shouting at the audio from time to time. I really loved the snide look at the modern workplace environment that is Scroll, a workplace that is replete with a buzzword for everything (‘carbon-based reading material’ anyone?), and the snarky take on some of the more unusual modern publishing trends. 

Ultimately, I am really glad I listened to this – it’s a fun and witty novel with a bookish twist on a well-worn theme. Interestingly, I’m not sure if I would have finished the book if I’d been reading a physical (sorry, ‘carbon-based’) copy but the narrator really added to my enjoyment and it was an easy audio to dip in and out of when the mood took me.

Elizabeth Is MissingElizabeth is Missing by Emma Healey

Another one that has been on my TBR forever now finally finished thanks to the #AYearAThon Readathon. So many people I know have raved about this book and, having finally read it, I can completely see why it has won so many admirers and garnered such acclaim. Healey inhabits the fractured and damaged mind of her mature protagonist Maud, who is struggling with the onset of a degenerative mental illness, with great skill and the bittersweet narrative voice is the real crowning achievement of this novel. 

Sadly, I just didn’t feel that the plot lived up to the promise of the characterisation. The ‘twist’ became obvious to me about a third of the way through the book and, whilst I understand that modern-day Maud would struggle to put the pieces together – the nature of her deterioration makes it increasingly hard for her to place her fragmented memories in order - I really struggle to see how young Maud, her parents and their lodger, failed to grasp exactly what had happened in the apparently ‘mysterious’ disappearance of Maud’s sister at the time. Whilst the post-war 1940s setting felt otherwise very well-realised, I do find it hard to believe that people were really quite that naïve or the police quite so incompetent. I also found it frustrating that a number of actions from the past remain tantalizingly out of reach or unexplained at the novel’s conclusion. Whilst this may well be in an attempt to show the ever increasing fracturing of Maud’s mind, it’s an annoyance in a novel where the plot was otherwise so apparent. All in all, I am glad that I read this book. The amazing way that the narrative viewpoint it handled makes it a worthwhile read and it is clear that Emma Healey is a very talented writer. 

Whilst I don’t think that ‘Elizabeth Is Missing’ is a 100% success, it deserves praise for its use of a mature narrator, its sensitive approach to mental deterioration and its well handled characterisation and, as result, I look forward to reading what Emma Healey comes up with next. 


If I could make any writer into a national treasure, it would quite probably be Bill Bryson. I love most of his books, finding his writing to be a combination of gentle grumbling, informative fact and laugh out loud absurd. He has a real gift for capturing the surreal in a given situation and maximising the potential for self-deprecation and amusement at every turn. 

In ‘The Road to Little Dribbling’, he turns his eye yet again on his adopted home country of Britain, returning to the territory that won him so many fans in ‘Notes from a Small Island’, first published some 20 years ago. As he takes another tour around this sceptered isle, Bryson looks at how Britain has changed since he first wrote about it (he thinks the NHS is undoubtedly better, a fact some may disagree with him on, but that town high streets have become mired in petty-minded saving cuts and chain stores, something most people wouldn’t!) in his gentle, wry and occasionally grumpy way. As always, his witty insight into the foibles of British life and character ring true and make the book an easy and thoroughly enjoyable romp - a bit like taking an amble through familiar territory with an old and trusted friend. There’s nothing here that Bryson hasn’t done before but, when it is done as well as this, why change the formula? Welcome back Bill, long may you observe us!

Alive, Alive Oh!: And Other Things That MatterAlive Alive Oh! by Diane Athill


Diane Athill’s previous memoir, the sublime ‘Somewhere Towards the End’, remains one of my standout non-fiction books so I was delighted to learn she was releasing another volume as she approaches her 100th year. Yet again, this is a fascinating meditation on a life lived fully and the pleasures and perils of aging. 

What always stands out for me in Athill’s writing is her honesty –she covers every subject from sex and death, to gardening and friendship, with such refreshing clarity and her smooth, descriptive prose is a joy to read. Reading one of her memoirs is like listening to an old friend recounting an excellent story. If I ever get to be anywhere near 100 myself, I can only hope to be of a similar outlook and mindset to Athill. A real piece of reading pleasure at its best from an always fascinating woman.

So that was January, a busy month both on the reading and the non-reading front. It's been a great start to my reading year with some really excellent and varied books so I'm really looking forward to carrying on in a similar vein as I move into February. As always, I'd love to know what you are reading at the moment and your thoughts on any of the above if you have read them. You can drop me a comment below, find my on Twitter @amyinstaffs and also on Goodreads.I hope your January was a great start to 2016 and that your February reading is progressing nicely.

Happy Reading! x 

Sunday, 31 January 2016

Reading Resolutions 2016

I am aware that it’s kind of late in the day to be making some resolutions, 2016 being well underway already, however it has taken me a while to get my house in order so to speak and to decide on the things I want to focus on with regards to my reading and writing for the coming year.

Firstly, and most importantly, this year I have decided to only read the books that I want to read. That sounds like an obvious thing to do but sometimes it’s really easy to get thrown off track and read the book that everyone else is talking about, or the one that I need to review, or the one that needs returning to the library or that has to be read for a book group or reading challenge etc etc. I spent three years as an English Literature major so I know that forced reading is sometimes necessary but, to be honest, it kills the joy and it’s something I really don’t want to do now that I don’t have to. Last year I think I got bogged down by feeling that there were certain books I had to or should read and this led to a major reading slump in the latter part of the year. So, in 2016, I want to be less prescriptive and just allow myself to pick up the books that take my fancy at a particular time. This may mean that I read and review less newly published fiction on this blog but hopefully it will result in more books read, a wider variety of content for you guys to read and more enjoyment for me. Winning all round basically!

Secondly, I want to try and read more diversely in 2016. This might sound like it contradicts the above resolution but hear me out. I recently watched a video by Jen Campbell (linked here), in which she recommends LGBTQ+ fiction and talks about why diversity in books is so important and it had a real impact on me. Reviewing my own shelves, I have noticed that a lot of what I read is mostly written by women, mostly by authors originating in the UK or America, mostly about a Western experience of the world and mostly written from a heterosexual white viewpoint. Given that books are one of the easiest ways for us to explore other cultures, world views and experiences, this seems very narrow and I’d like to actively work to counter that. So, whilst I’m not going to force myself to read a specific book just because it’s from a world view other than my own, I do want to get to some of the books stashed away on my shelves that reflect other world views in 2016.

Tying into this, I would like to try and read more books in translation this year. Again, it is very easy to only read books written by authors writing in English and to overlook those originally published in another language, many of which eventually get a UK release via small presses and imprints. I feel that one of the simplest ways for me to diversify my reading is to seek out exciting translated fiction and experience some of the publishing sensations from other parts of the globe.

Finally, for reading goals at any rate, I want to read more graphic novels, including manga. I really got into manga when I spent a summer as a camp counsellor in America, finding the pictures and text format perfect for dipping into and out of between sessions and for reading on the fly. However, when I got back to the UK, there just wasn’t the range of manga to be read – a lot of the series I had discovered in the US were hard to get hold of over here and also very expensive to buy, so I haven’t read very much in this format since. I’ve recently noticed UK bookshops stocking more manga and enlarging their graphic novel sections so I want to try and get back into this form, which I hope will enable me to keep reading even when I get very bogged down with work and can’t find the energy to follow a standard novel or book.

On the blog I would like to produce more varied content for you in 2016. I’ve largely stuck to wrap ups and reviews in the past 12 months but I’d like to do more general posts such as this one and also review my reading goals or anticipated upcoming reads throughout the year. Basically, I want to make this blog a little bit less prescriptive, which might mean a few changes in the coming month as I play around with things. Hopefully you’ll like it but, as always, drop me a comment with any thoughts on new content.

So those are my reading resolutions for 2016!  I’ll be reviewing progress on here every so often throughout the year so we’ll see how I go with them. I’ve set myself a Goodreads challenge of reading 75 books in 2016 so I hope my goals will support this aim and allow me to enjoy my reading even more in 2016. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and I’d really welcome any recommendations you have for diverse books, books in translation and graphic novels/manga that I could read. Drop me a comment down below, or tweet me @amyinstaffs. And until next time…

Happy Reading!


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