tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7360021384001509002024-02-06T18:10:45.217-08:00The Reader of BooksMrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.comBlogger256125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-15604729724388814302020-03-15T02:13:00.001-07:002020-03-15T02:15:38.061-07:00Books for an Uncertain WorldI thought I would dust off the blog to share some ideas for good reads in a crisis, and for good reads for a potential enforced period of incarceration in our houses. More to come as and when they occur to me.<br />
<br />
For taking your mind off things:<br />
<br />
The Darling Buds of May by H.E Bates: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Darling-Buds-of-May-by-H-E-Bates/9780141029672">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Darling-Buds-of-May-by-H-E-Bates/9780141029672</a> I have an omnibus version called the Pop Larkin chronicles, which might well be available on eBay, with a wonderful cover illustration by Beryl Cook. These books are my ultimate comfort reading. Bad things end up not being so bad after all, and everybody eats a lot of lovely food, and enjoy a great deal of wonderful-sounding drinks.<br />
<br />
The Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Assassins-Apprentice-by-Robin-Hobb-author/9780008363710">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Assassins-Apprentice-by-Robin-Hobb-author/9780008363710</a> An entirely different world. Fitz, the said apprentice, can be profoundly irritating but the stories are spell-binding. If you enjoy this one, it is the first in an extremely long series!<br />
<br />
<br />
For dwelling on fear and terror:<br />
<br />
The Enemy series by Charlie Higson: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Enemy-by-Charles-Higson/9780141325019">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Enemy-by-Charles-Higson/9780141325019</a><br />
A series of astonishing brilliance, following the fortunes of groups of teenagers in a world where everyone over the age of 14 has developed an illness, rendering them into zombies. Good for teens too, although they are very scary and quite violent, so perhaps worth reading yourself first just to check.<br />
<br />
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/I-Am-Legend-by-Richard-Matheson/9780575094161">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/I-Am-Legend-by-Richard-Matheson/9780575094161</a> A classic of the "last human alive" genre.<br />
<br />
<br />
Speedy reads for when your concentration is ebbing away:<br />
<br />
The Poetry Pharmacy and The Poetry Pharmacy Returns by William Sieghart: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Poetry-Pharmacy-by-William-Sieghart-author/9781846149542">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Poetry-Pharmacy-by-William-Sieghart-author/9781846149542</a> <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Poetry-Pharmacy-Returns-by-William-Sieghart-author/9780241419052">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Poetry-Pharmacy-Returns-by-William-Sieghart-author/9780241419052</a><br />
<br />
William Sieghart prescribes poems for various ailments of the heart: hopelessness, dissatisfaction with life, and unrequited love, to name but a few.<br />
<br />
Marianne Dreams by Catherine Storr: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/Marianne-Dreams-by-Catherine-Storr-Marjorie-Ann-Watts-illustrator/9780571313273">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/Marianne-Dreams-by-Catherine-Storr-Marjorie-Ann-Watts-illustrator/9780571313273</a><br />
<br />
A young girl is quarantined, due to illness. Strange things ensue...<br />
<br />
Tom's Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/Toms-Midnight-Garden-by-Philippa-Pearce-Jaime-Zollars-illustrator/9780062696588">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/Toms-Midnight-Garden-by-Philippa-Pearce-Jaime-Zollars-illustrator/9780062696588</a> A boy is sent away from home as his brother is ill. Strange things ensue...<br />
<br />
<br />
Something to get your teeth into:<br />
<br />
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas: <a href="https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Count-of-Monte-Cristo-by-Alexandre-Dumas-David-Coward/9780199219650">https://blackwells.co.uk/bookshop/product/The-Count-of-Monte-Cristo-by-Alexandre-Dumas-David-Coward/9780199219650</a><br />
<br />
A man is jailed without trial for a crime he did not commit. This is crazily long, but completely brilliant. The Audible version is 52 hours long, but is completely wonderful.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-68327467386107841972019-01-01T09:44:00.001-08:002019-01-01T09:44:22.268-08:00My favourite reads of 2018I enjoyed almost every book I read this year (176 in total, for those who are interested) - those I did not enjoy were an exercise in patience, which I greatly need. Here are my favourites from the year, split into books written for adults and books written for children and young people.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>FOR ADULTS:</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Although this is not a newly published book, I had not come across it before. This was the first book I read in 2018, and it set the bar very high. Long and involved, but certainly worth the effort.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Soviet Bus Stops by Christopher Herwig</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm not going to lie, this is niche, but I absolutely loved it. If you like looking at pictures of unusual public structures in places you'll probably never go, then you might love it too. If you do, follow it with Made in North Korea by Nick Bonner, which I also loved.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gower</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Similar to Jonathan Strange - classic in style, long and involved, completely brilliant.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Assassin's Fate by Robin Hobb</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
I have never loved a series of fantasy novels like I have loved the Farseer novels by Robin Hobb. Absolutely beautiful, and I am a little sad that there will be no more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Educated by Tara Westover</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
A fantastic autobiography that gives an insider perspective on an unusual life. Highly recommended.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<b>The Godfather by Mario Puzo</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
I enjoyed this a great deal more than the films.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Murder of my Aunt by Richard Hull</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Written in 1934, and republished by the British Library. Recommended by my step mum. Clever, and absolutely hilarious.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Psychology of Time Travel by Kate Mascherenhas</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Time travel, strong women, multiple perspectives = everything I love in a novel.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Cows by Dawn O'Porter</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Hilarious and clever.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Life and Rhymes of Benjamin Zephaniah</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Very evocative and always interesting.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Bird Box by Josh Malerman</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
If you liked the film, you'll love the book. Excellent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Beneath a Scarlet Sky by Mark T Sullivan</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
A deeply moving, fantastically researched historical novel based heavily on the life of a young Italian soldier spy recruited by the Nazis in WW2.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Colour of Time by Dan Jones</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Fascinating. Colour has been added to iconic old photographs, to bring them more readily into the present.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Diary of a Bookseller by Shaun Bythell</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Hilarious, moving, interesting.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Year One by Nora Roberts</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Absolutely brilliant fantasy dystopia.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>A Dark Adapted Eye by Barbara Vine</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
I loved this. I remember my Mum and Dad getting very excited about the TV adaptation, and now I understand why: spare, compelling, excellent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>FOR CHILDREN AND YOUNG PEOPLE:</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Explorer by Katherine Rundell. </b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Timeless and brilliant. The story of some children, lost in the Amazon, and how they manage to survive.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Release by Patrick Ness</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
An important book, and also a wonderful story. Not for young children!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Iron Man by Ted Hughes</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
I had never read this, but it is truly wonderful.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Land of Neverendings by Kate Saunders</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Utterly beautiful. I cried through most of it. The story of a girl whose disabled sister has died, and her adventures with her sister's bear. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Moonrise by Sarah Crossan</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Made me very sad and angry, as great books for teenagers often do. I love Crossan's verse novels, and this does not disappoint.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>One of Us is Lying by Karen M McManus</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Excellent murder mystery aimed at young teens.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Podkin One-Ear by Kieran Larwood</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
Wonderful rabbit myth tale. Really enjoyable.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-13955969908668882702018-06-16T13:12:00.001-07:002018-06-16T13:12:34.092-07:00However many books I read this year...I still somehow have at least seven books on my Currently Reading shelf on Goodreads. Admittedly, one of them has been there for many, many months, but I did recently read an entire chapter of it, so I'm not prepared to give up on it yet. Also, in fairness, there are generally no more than two fiction books on there at once, and I try to make them very different from each other, after the confusion where I was reading two books about mixed race adopted boys at the same time, which was challenging.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I am up to book number 68 of my challenge. A short precis of each, and whether or not I think it's worth reading follows.<br />
<br />
31) The Vaccine Race by Meredith Wadman.<br />
<br />
Really interesting bits, could have done, for me, with being about half of the length.<br />
<br />
32) The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot.<br />
<br />
COMPLETELY brilliant. Definitely one of my books of the year so far. The story of how a poor African American woman became the catalyst for huge medical advances at great personal pain to her family.<br />
<br />
33) The Writing Revolution by Judith Hochman<br />
<br />
The best teaching book I've read so far this year. I've already used it, and seen brilliant consequences, in the classroom.<br />
<br />
34) Saint Death by Marcus Sedgwick.<br />
<br />
Sedgwick has clearly given up on actually winning the Carnegie and is going for the Amnesty prize this year (good luck with that when The Hate You Give is also on the shortlist). This was very tense, and had some really powerful moments, but it was very, very worthy. It set out its agenda from page 1 with a quote about only understanding things if we assume the stories are about us. Anyway, I hope it doesn't win, frankly. It felt like he watched Breaking Bad, had an idea and did a nice bit of cultural appropriation under the disguise of awareness-building.<br />
<br />
35) Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes<br />
<br />
Recommended to Mr M as an excellent book for medical students to read - answers and poses many tricky ethical questions.<br />
<br />
36) The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon<br />
<br />
I tried this a few years ago, and couldn't get into it at all. I am determined to finish all the books in my Audible library, though, and after the first few pedestrian chapters, I loved it. Great characters, especially the tramp. Made me want to visit Barcelona.<br />
<br />
37) Release by Patrick Ness, which I blogged about separately.<br />
<br />
38) Therese Raquin by Emile Zola<br />
<br />
Awesome. Audible edition read completely by Kate Winslet.<br />
<br />
39) All Our Wrong Todays by Elan Mastai<br />
<br />
I really liked this, but there were elements that just seemed a tad bizarre. Loved the reality of time travel, second time around, but felt more could have been done with that section.<br />
<br />
40) Closing the Vocabulary Gap by Alex Quigley<br />
<br />
Brilliant. I have downloaded a Latin app on the strength of this, and I feel much more confident to do "boring" etymology and explicit vocabulary instruction.<br />
<br />
41) Rook by Anthony McGowan<br />
<br />
Barrington Stoke. Excellent. Moving, with believable characters. Didn't seem like an easy read, but was. Fantastic. C loved it.<br />
<br />
42) Dubliners by James Joyce<br />
<br />
15 short stories, which I'm sure I have read at uni, but didn't take in. Was a Daily Deal on Audible, and it was rather fabulous.<br />
<br />
43) Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor<br />
<br />
I found this a little tough-going. Interesting characters and stories, and a different perspective on sci-fi, but more than a little depressing.<br />
<br />
44) Joe All Alone by Joanna Nadin<br />
<br />
Fabulous, Described as Jacqueline Wilson meets Home Alone, but I think it's a lot cleverer than that. <br />
45) Mend the Living by Maylis de Kerangal<br />
<br />
Fabulous. Translated from French. About a heart transplant, following the characters over 24 hours. Very powerful. Wellcome Trust Book Prize winner 2017.<br />
<br />
46) Why Don't Students Like School? by Daniel T Willingham<br />
<br />
Informative, interesting and useful in the classroom - how cognitive science can be applied by teachers.<br />
<br />
47) The Story of the Jews Vol 1 by Simon Schama<br />
<br />
A bit boring in places, but horribly depressing - describing how Jews have basically been history's scapegoats. Made me despair of what humans can do to other humans in the name of religion.<br />
<br />
48) What Does This Look Like in the Classroom<br />
<br />
Good - an informative precis of lots of different research.<br />
<br />
49) Holidays in Soviet Sanatoriums by Maryam Omidi<br />
<br />
Completely awesome. Like a weekend break for a tenner.<br />
<br />
50) The Book of Joan by Lidia Yuknavitch<br />
<br />
A nice idea, bizarrely rendered.<br />
<br />
51) The Good Immigrant by Nikesh Shukla<br />
<br />
Could have done with better editing, repetitive in places. Very thought-provoking.<br />
<br />
52) The Ultimate Guide to Differentiation by Sue Cowley<br />
<br />
Was very good for showing me what I already do!<br />
<br />
53) Brutal London by Simon Phipps<br />
<br />
Fascinating - more places added to the Brutalist architecture tour I am going to take myself on one of these days in London.<br />
<br />
54) Cleverlands by Lucy Crehan<br />
<br />
Really interesting and thought-provoking exploration of the best international education systems.<br />
<br />
55) The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks<br />
<br />
Really clever, but so, so dark!<br />
<br />
56) Modernist Estates by Stefi Orazi<br />
<br />
Would have been SO much more interesting if she'd interviewed people who weren't exactly like her!<br />
<br />
57) And The Weak Suffer What They Must? by Yanis Varoufakis<br />
<br />
SO boring. A true feat of endurance.<br />
<br />
58) The Passage by Justin Cronin<br />
<br />
LOVED it. Perhaps should have been a self-contained novel, rather than an obvious part 1.<br />
<br />
59) Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden<br />
<br />
Potentially politically problematic (white male purports to write as Eastern female) but SO good.<br />
<br />
60) Almost Love by Louise O'Neill<br />
<br />
Hideous protagonist (she's supposed to be). Not a patch on Only Ever Yours.<br />
<br />
61) Teaching Poetry by Amanda Naylor<br />
<br />
Some good insights, a little dull, Took me about 9 months to read!<br />
<br />
62) Assassin's Fate by Robin Hobb<br />
<br />
A wonderful end to the 3 trilogies, sad to have reached the end of these great books.<br />
<br />
63) The Twelve by Justin Cronin<br />
<br />
Did Not Finish - Googled the plot - nowhere near as good as The Passage - I wanted to know what happened, but was not prepared to read several hundred pages for it.<br />
<br />
64) The Unit by Ninni Holmqvist<br />
<br />
Really brilliant dystopia. Would have liked a little more backstory.<br />
<br />
65) Overheard in a Tower Block by Joseph Coelho<br />
<br />
Loved the poems about reading particularly.<br />
<br />
66) Whistle in the Dark by Emma Healey<br />
<br />
Absolutely, painfully brilliant. Very true depiction of parenting children with mental health issues.<br />
<br />
67) Gardening with Junk by Adam Caplin<br />
<br />
Some lovely ideas, some bonkers ones. The tin cans simply looked like tin cans. The teapot herbs were fab though.<br />
<br />
68) Slow Teaching by Jamie Thom<br />
<br />
Some good ideas, but having read tons of teaching books this year, nothing that's particularly new.<br />
<br />
Right. Off to clear some more off my Currently Reading Shelf.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-24972645950578333402018-04-20T02:39:00.002-07:002018-04-20T02:39:56.620-07:00Release by Patrick Ness Patrick Ness writes in his acknowledgements "The spirit of Virginia Woolf's <i>Mrs Dalloway</i> and Judy Blume's <i>Forever</i> suffuse Release." A very high-brow way of saying "You can blame the crap bits of this book on <i>Mrs Dalloway</i> and the sex bits on<i> Forever."</i><br />
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Probably like 90% of other women my age, I can only remember reading about 12 pages of <i>Forever</i>. Those who have read it will know which pages they are. Those that haven't, ask a woman in their 30s for a brief precis. I don't know if I even actually read the rest of the novel. I really liked Judy Blume, but I didn't think <i>Forever</i> was her finest hour. And, even in her finest hour, she is not as powerful a writer as Ness. But I think it is great that he has acknowledged her continuing cultural legacy. She is certainly an important writer.</div>
<div>
<br /><i>Release</i> is two stories in one. I *think* the mythical, bizarre-o Dalloway-inspired bit is supposed to be a spiritual counterpoint to the harsh "folksy" religion of the parents on the main character. I think. I'm not sure, and, frankly, I sort of think the novel would have been better without it. However, it certainly doesn't detract from the huge power of the main story.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Adam is 18, and he is gay. His parents are the sort to pray the gay away, to put it mildly. The book follows Adam over just one day where he has to go to work, meet his boyfriend, help his Dad at the Church, and go to a get-together. A great deal happens on this day, including sex with his boyfriend. It is relatively explicit - it's certainly not for young children, and I would be tempted to give it a read yourself if you're unsure if your child is ready. A wants to read it, which is fine (she's 14), C also wants to read it, but when I told him it contained explicit sexual intercourse, he changed his mind. He is still squeamish about that kind of thing. He then uttered something about "porn", and was given a very long, probably very boring talking to about how writing about sex doesn't have to be porn. I am sure he was very grateful for this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I cannot really overstate how great this book is. I hope it becomes famous in the way that Forever became famous, but I hope teens read the whole book, rather than just the sex bit. There is so much that's brilliant about how relationships alter in your teens, not just with romantic partners, but with friends, and family. The main character's best friend who, if I'm going to criticise any of the characters, is slightly irritatingly perfect, says at one point "They're your parents. They're meant to love you because. Never in spite." A powerful message for us all, I think.</div>
MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-30772679727168625672018-04-07T03:46:00.001-07:002018-04-07T16:55:00.294-07:00My "Stop Procrastinating on Your Phone" 2018 book challenge<div>
Ah, faffing about on your phone. The completely free (apart from all the stuff you buy), mindless activity, that requires no major investment of brain power, and sucks hours, weeks, potentially decades from lives. I LOVE it, but I do it far, far too much. I decided that in 2018 I was going to set myself a target to read 100 books, in an attempt to distract myself from the demon phone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Cunningly, I downloaded Audible, so that the phone can be complicit in the undoing of my ridiculous procrastination. If I'm listening to Audible, I can't follow Mumsnet properly. I have prioritised Audible, because I find I absolutely love it. There are so many books I want to read, Audible forces them down my ears. I've included the books I've listened to, which may be cheating, but I rather think not.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So here I present my list of books I've read in 2018 so far, why I read them, and what I thought:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
1) Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Whilst I love my brother in law dearly, we do not generally share a taste in books. He likes great books, and I can tell they are great, and I can see why he likes them, generally, but I don't. I am thrilled to announce that, after knowing him for 18 years, he recommended a book that I not only liked, but loved.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's a very long and involved book, but totally brilliant. I loved the weaving in of magic with something that reads like standard historical fiction.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
2) Persuasion by Jane Austen</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I love an episode of A Good Read on Radio 4. I was listening to the episode with Mel and Sue, from ages ago, and one of them talked about Persuasion by Jane Austen. In my formative years, I considered myself a pre-eminent Austen scholar, having won £90 for an essay about buildings and social status in 2000, which I spent on jeans and sparkly belts from Oasis, as all self-respecting serious academics do. To my shame, I realised, that, several years later, and that £90 being literally the peak of my academic prowess, I haven't even actually read Persuasion. This probably limits my ability to deem myself an expert. I read it, liked it, and was extremely glad that I didn't have to write an essay about it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
3) Brother in the Land by Robert Swindells</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Another book that I heard about on A Good Read, that I assumed I had read, but actually hadn't. I made a vague mental note to read it, and then discovered it on the shelf of my own classroom, in a lovely 1990s copy with a font I really like. Fate. I took it home and read it in one evening. Like Children of the Dust, it utterly defied scientific reality, but was exceptionally powerful.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
4) The Other Mrs Walker by Mary Paulson Ellis</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lent to me by my lovely friend at work, I really wanted to like this, because it was a great idea for a story, but it was so over-written. Clumsy imagery, confusing ending, too much co-incidence.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
5) Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I loved the flawed, interesting characters, but was annoyed by the twist, which I felt was totally unnecessary.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
6) La Belle Sauvage by Philip Pullman</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I absolutely loved this, mainly because I loved the first trilogy, but also because I grew up taking walks to Godstow with my family, because my Nan lived in Wolvercote. I think I would have loved it anyway, but it always helps to know where you are, even if the novel is set in an alternative reality. Childhood often feels like an alternative reality at any rate.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
7) The Girl with All the Gifts by MR Carey</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This was like a dumbed down version of all seven books of Charlie Higson's The Enemy series. Higson for beginners! Really good villain in the evil Doctor character.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
8) North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Third in the series of Books I Thought I'd Already Read this year is this one. Over-written, in the style of a book that was originally written for a magazine, this is an interesting read, with an annoying main character, and a good love story. I was amused by an audio copy I found on YouTube, read by an American, where the Yorkshire folk had a very interesting hybrid Irish accent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
9) The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Read this for Book Group. A fab idea, which was slightly ruined by the writer feeling the need to share everything she's ever learned about Derrida.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
10) Fatherland by Robert Harris</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A thread on Mumsnet (OK, I'm not fully cured yet) prompted me to read this. I was sure that my Dad and MIL both had a copy, but apparently they both went to the charity shop years ago, so I downloaded it on the kindle. It took a while to get into, but was rather brilliant. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
11) Soviet Bus Stops by Christopher Herwig</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I heard about this on Radio 4, and was so glad I bought it. A glimpse into a totally unfamiliar world, showing the art in the mundane. Fabulous.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
12) Wed Wabbit by Lissa Evans </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Part of my Carnegie reading for this year, but mainly bought because I loved Small Change for Stuart so very much. This is great, hilarious, thought-provoking. C loved it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
13) Acts of Kindness From Your Armchair by Anita Nelson</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Somebody recommended this on Mumsnet as a book to read at night to calm anxiety, so I bought it for C. Some bits will be useful, he says. It was a little on the woo side for me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
14) The Call by Peadar O'Guillin</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carnegie Longlist, but not eventually shortlisted, which is a shame. It's a wonderful mix of Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, The Hunger Games and The Secret History with Old Irish Myths. It might as well have been called Part 1, though, so obviously was it part of a trilogy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
15) Ketchup Clouds by Annable Pitcher </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A recommendation from A. Clever epistolary novel with a slightly depressing ending.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
16) Marianne Dreams by Catherine Storr</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was inspired to read this by a Mumsnet thread about "inappropriate books you read as a child". Along with Virginia Andrews, Danielle Steele, Jilly Cooper, etc, there were several mentions of this, which is, apparently, terrifying.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I knew enough about the book from the thread not to be scared, but I know I'd have loved it as a child. Like a menacing Moondial. Unsettling ending. Just fabulous.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
17) The Explorer</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I loved this so very much that I dusted down the blog for it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
18) When the Adults Change Everything Changes by Paul Dix</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Key word being "adults". I really liked this, but it's a bit irritating to read about initiatives that have full-staff consistency as a guiding principle when I can't enforce this. Will implement some things though.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
19) The Alice Network by Kate Quinn</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Another one for the book group. The main character annoyed me greatly, and the motifs were heavy handed, but the story was a good one.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
20) Flawed by Cecelia Ahern.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suffice to say that this is very aptly named. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
21) The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gower</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
LOVED this. It took me ages to read, because it was so involved. Similar vein to Golden Hill, but better.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
22) The End We Start From by Megan Hunter. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Almost more of a prose poem than a novel. I loved it, and wanted it to be longer. Will definitely look out for anything else she writes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
23) The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This really made me want to go on a random walking adventure, and I have promised myself that one day I will. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
24) The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Brutal. Slightly disappointing ending.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
25) Where the World Ends by Geraldine McCaughrean</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carnegie Shortlist 2018. I don't understand why this was shortlisted and The Explorer wasn't. Same sort of thing, but not as good. Like Lord of the Flies with puffins.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
26) After the Fire by Will Hill</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carnegie Shortlist 2018. Excellent. A really important topic, well written about here. I think The Hate U Give will win, but this would be a worthy winner too.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
27) The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Glad I listened to this one, as it was a bit rambling. Great characters, unpleasant plot. The kind of thing MrM might watch on TV. Reminded me of Days Without End, but better.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
28) Beetle Boy by MG Leonard</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Read to C. Good idea, but slow-moving. Neither of us have any great desire to read the rest of the trilogy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
29) Turn of Mind by Alice LaPlante</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have discovered that the Wellcome Collection (one of my favourite London places to visit, and definitely one of my favourite bookshops) have a book prize. I bought one of the shortlist for this year (I have 200 pages left), and then bought most of the previous winners second-hand or on the kindle. This was the winner in 2011, and is brilliant. Like Elizabeth is Missing, but better-written, and with zero feel-good factor. Great twist.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
30) The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Just amazing. So, so awful that this could happen. Incredibly moving. Everyone should be obligated to read it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My currently reading shelf on Goodreads has 9 books on it! My anti-procrastination book fest does appear to be working...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-61684002662635177582018-02-28T07:27:00.002-08:002018-02-28T07:28:03.337-08:00The Explorer by Katherine RundellThis book is so completely brilliant, that I have been compelled to post about it on my sadly extremely neglected blog. It's on the Carnegie Longlist for this year, which I have been steadily working my way through, and if it doesn't get on the shortlist, I will be both very surprised, and very cross. Especially given that Rooftoppers did get on the shortlist, and it's SO much better than that. And that was quite good.<br />
<br />
I thought this was called The Explorers at first, as it's the tale of 4 children stranded in the Amazon rainforest. It's not, it's The Explorer, singular, and is named for a character that we never know the name of, that we meet about half way through the book, who is the best old man in a children's novel since Mister Tom. Who is one of my very favourite people of all time, despite the fact that he never existed, and even if he had, would have been long dead before I was born.<br />
<br />
The characters in this are outstanding, even the ones that only have one line at the very end. They are flawed, but likeable. There are unbelievable elements, like the fact that one of them befriends a baby sloth, and it becomes her companion, but I don't think it's supposed to be grittily realistic.<br />
<br />
It's a story of adventure, risks, and learning to care for others. There's enough mild peril to keep it extremely interesting, but enough clues that everything will be OK in the end, that you don't fear it's going to go all dark and depressing on you.<br />
<br />
The language is a thing of absolute beauty. I am grateful to Katherine Rundell to providing me with many quotes that I am going to write on my board and ask my students to admire and to use to improve their own writing. A few tasters, that won't spoil the book for you:<br />
<br />
"The fire made a noise like an idea being born, a crackle that sounded like hope."<br />
<br />
"People do not tell you that love is so terrifying. It is less like rainbows and butterflies and more like jumping on to the back of a moving dragon."<br />
<br />
"Would you like some more?" "No, thank you, It tastes too much like being electrocuted."<br />
<br />
I just loved it. I was very sad when I finished it. I am going to nag both of my older children until they read it, and then I am going to nag all of the children I teach until they read it too.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-30188074784855176012017-10-14T07:54:00.001-07:002017-10-14T07:54:21.934-07:00The Giver by Lois LowryAs I've said on here before, choosing which books to read next is one of the little daily pleasures that make my life better. I particularly love it when I find a brilliant book which I've overlooked for years (decades in this case) that comes, like a gift, from an unexpected source.<br />
<br />
Over the summer I read a quarter of a book called Making Every English Lesson Count: Six principles for supporting great reading and writing. I was so bored by the end of the second principle, that I decided that someone who had bored me so rigid, that I was looking around for extra dusting to do to avoid reading his words, probably didn't have an awful lot to teach me about getting other people to write well. However, the book did reference another called Reading Reconsidered by Doug Lemov, which sounded good and useful, and was. It's written for American teachers, but the principles are absolutely pertinent to the English classroom too. I have learned a great deal from it, and the children in my classroom are benefitting already. There were many references in the book to The Giver by Lois Lowry, which I had never read, but the more I read about the exercises related to it, the more I wanted to read it.<br />
<br />
Published in 1993, it's an accessible dystopian novel, disturbing but not violent, utterly thought-provoking. Suitable for age 10+, it's the story of Jonas, who discovers that his perfect community, is masking horrific secrets, and has brainwashed participants to commit inhuman acts.<br />
<br />
Apparently it's the first of many set in the world, although I haven't got round to reading any of the others yet - and it didn't feel anything other than a complete book in itself. Highly recommended. The boring six principles book, not so much...MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-42924031935100252052017-06-10T08:45:00.000-07:002017-06-10T08:45:15.134-07:00Alex Wheatle at the Derby Book FestivalI posted a while ago about finding Crongton Knights to read when I was trying to second-guess the Carnegie shortlist. It was a brilliant find, and I have since recommended it to my own children, and to some students I teach. Predictably, my own kids completely ignored me, but some of my students have now read, and enjoyed both Liccle Bit and Crongton Knights.<br />
<br />
The other week in the library, I was handed a programme for the Derby Book Festival. I think it's now in its third year, but I was slightly too caught-up in baby and toddler-ness to organise myself to go to anything before this year. I was thrilled to discover that Alex Wheatle was coming to the festival, and book tickets, not only for me, but for A and C too, knowing that they would enjoy it, even if they didn't.<br />
<br />
We arrived early. I'm not quite sure what I expected from a provincial book festival. My only experience of a book festival are the sessions I've attended at the Imagine Children's Festival at the South Bank centre. Everything has been utterly packed and, although all the sessions we've been to have had some value and merit, they were not what could be described as intimate. In sharp contrast, today we were shown through to a small room at the independent cinema in Derby, with comfy sofas, and there were few enough people that there were only three rows. We were right at the front. This, and the big bag of Minstrels I bought beforehand, were enough to persuade A and C that this was somewhere they wanted to be.<br />
<br />
What an absolute inspiration Alex Wheatle is. Having talked about the creation of his imaginary South London town of Crongton, and read an extract from his newly published <i>Straight Outta Crongton </i>(I would like to point out for posterity that I anticipated that one of the books in this series would have this name), Alex told a little about his life. Brought up in care, Alex was in trouble with the police, and even had a spell in prison. He told how writing had been a way of releasing all of the negativity and the poisonous feelings, and had turned into something that he wanted to do as a career.<br />
<br />
His story really is incredibly impressive, and he told it in the same warm, funny, self-deprecating voice that comes across so clearly in his novels. He answered questions honestly, and with feeling, and A and C both left the talk feeling buoyed-up to use what he had said to help them with their own writing. Needless to say, they are both now going to read all of the books, including the signed copy which we left clutching.<br />
<br />
"Honestly though", said C as we left, "you didn't have to insult him!" What? How could what I said possibly be taken as an insult? Alex was asked by a young man if he thought he wrote well from a female perspective, and basically answered that he does his best. I told him as he signed our book that when I read Liccle Bit and Crongton Knights I assumed he was a woman in his twenties. "That wasn't the insult Mum! The insult was when you then added "so when I booked tickets I wondered who the picture of the middle-aged man was!" You can't go round pointing out that people are middle-aged!" So, apologies for that indiscretion Alex, I think you are utterly brilliant, and I am very much looking forward to reading the next installment.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-63950007596750404302017-04-18T13:08:00.002-07:002017-04-18T13:08:58.178-07:00The 2017 Carnegie ShortlistThere have been several contributing factors to my having read all but one of the shortlisted novels for the Carnegie Medal already this year. Firstly, I have been on a couple of trips away for several nights without WiFi, which has led to me rapidly using up an entire month's supply of roaming data. This led to my realisation that without WiFi, my motivation to read is greatly increased, and that, actually, I really love reading. I think the reason that the phone gets picked up rather than the Kindle or book, is that it just seems like so much more effort to read something more complex that Mumsnet, but I'd forgotten how utterly worth it it is. This is good news for my intellect and my ability to discuss the latest releases in literature, quite possibly bad news for my bank balance.<br />
<br />
Secondly, I read an article a while ago about how sitting down is the new smoking. I decided that I would do a dual-pronged attack on my love of checking Facebook on my phone, and of sitting on my bottom, by only looking at my phone when standing up. This has further dramatically reduced my inane phone use, it's a bit less tempting when I have to stand to use it.<br />
<br />
So, all but one of the books read, and since I'm not reading the last one, I'm done for the year. I've chosen not to read Beck by Mal Peet, because A is shadowing the award with school, and I've told her she can't read it, and, since she can't read it, I've promised I won't either. It's not appropriate for her age group and, although I am very far from her age group, I understand her annoyance that she won't be able to "complete" the reading list, and I want to show her that I understand by giving myself the same problem.<br />
<br />
This leaves us with seven. I've already written on this blog about The Smell of Other People's Houses and The Bone Sparrow. I would be happy enough if the first of these won, but The Bone Sparrow was definitely among my least favourites of this year's offerings so I hope it doesn't. Neither A nor C could get past the first couple of chapters, which is hardly a shining recommendation from the youth vote either (yes, I know, sample size of two, but both are avid readers and both found it utterly dull, as did I).<br />
<br />
My favourite this year was Railhead by Philip Reeve. I've not read anything by him before, but I certainly will after this offering, which I thought was great. Dystopian steampunk with lovable but flawed characters and a really interesting setting. I'm hoping that Raven will remind C enough of Skullduggery Pleasant that he'll make it through the initial couple of relatively pedestrian chapters to the good stuff. Would recommend for boys and girls, 10 ish plus.<br />
<br />
I also expected to and did love Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys, who I felt should have won for Between Shades of Grey a few years ago. In fact, I wonder if the only reason she didn't was that I, and everybody else I knew who read it, kept calling it 50 Shades of Grey by mistake. Anyway, I didn't love this quite as much. I felt the Nazi character was so odiously awful that he was more of a caricature (obviously I am aware that Nazis on the whole were odiously awful, but he seemed such a puppet compared to the other characters that it jarred horribly with the other narrators, whose stories all harmonised in a very pleasing way.) Good for lovers of war fiction, and those who like different viewpoints about the same events.<br />
<br />
I also loved Sputnik's Guide to Life on Earth by Frank Cottrell Boyce. C was disappointed with it, as he loves Cosmic and Millions, and this was aimed at younger readers (8+), and he is not yet of an age where he can let this go. Anything aimed at lower juniors is a no go area when you're a eminent Year 6. I thought it was rather beautiful though. Like all his books, it doesn't shy away from the darker side of life, but the reader is left with a wonderful sense of hope. It's about a boy in care and, rather confusingly I read it at the same time as My Name is Leon by Kit de Waal, which also features a boy in care, and is also great, but does not feature an alien that everyone else sees as a dog. I found myself weaving threads of the two plots together in a rather confusing manner, so I'd recommend them both, but perhaps not at the same time.<br />
<br />
I finished Wolf Hollow today. It started VERY slowly, and if it had not been on the shortlist, and I'd got it out the library, so had no financial investment in it, it would have been returned from whence it came forthwith. However, it was an excellent novel in the end, there are a lot of people who end up dead at the end, but it's quite gentle still. It's set in rural Second World War America, which was interesting, if a touch Steinbeck-for-kids in places.<br />
<br />
I didn't particularly like The Stars At Oktober Bend. The narrative voice was trying to be interesting, but I'm not sure it had the effect that the author was looking for, because it didn't seem to ring true and just ended up being an irritant. The love story was absurdly unlikely, making The Smell of Other People's Houses seem humdrum and down-to-earth. The characters were either unbelievable or two-dimensional, and I found I didn't really care whether any or all of them died when the denouement came. In fact, I only read it a fortnight ago, and I can't remember. Needless to say, I hope this one doesn't win!<br />
<br />
So, good luck to all, apart from the one I can't read, and the two I wish I hadn't!<br />
<br />
<br />MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-8453019196951792002017-02-05T13:58:00.001-08:002017-02-05T13:58:08.581-08:00The Art of Being a Brilliant Teenager by Andy CopeI came across a recommendation for this book on Mumsnet, when I was looking for ideas for what to buy A for her birthday. I feel a little alarmed and unbelieving that my gorgeous little lovely baby girl is going to be thirteen on Friday. How this can possibly be, when I was eighteen myself a mere couple of years ago, I do not know, but, according to calendars, clocks and The Internet, it is thirteen years since 2004, so thirteen she must be.<br />
<br />
We have bought an overpriced pink polaroid camera, and one of her uncles has bought a matching case and accessories which were deemed utterly essential by A (mainly glitter and stickers from what I can see, but I guess if there's one time in your life that glitter is essential, it is when you're a teen. I find glitter sits in the "laughter lines" these days. This uncle still retains the coolness of a much younger man in A's eyes, because he is, as yet, unencumbered by children, and he lives in a trendy part of London and takes her to restaurants where you have to queue to book in, and the pizza is the size of an actual table. (Why, yes I am jealous of my own children, who have a trio of extremely awesome uncles, and no, I am not proud of it). <br />
<br />
Anyway, obviously I need to buy some books to go with it, so I decided that, since this was recommended, and has ALL THE STARS on Amazon, that I would just buy it. <br />
<br />
It came. I started to read it, mainly because it's a new book just out the packet, and that stuff is like a drug to me, but also because I thought I should take at least a cursory interest in its appropriateness. Oh my Lord, it irritated me. The introduction basically went along the lines of "Oh my God I bet your mum and teachers are SO boring. I bet they tell you what to do and all of that, and it really brings you down. You know they mean well, but... But hey! Listen to me! I'm not like them! I mean, obviously I'm a grown up, but I'm a REALLY COOL one. <br />
<br />
I stopped reading. Went back to the reviews. Apparently there IS stuff of merit in here, but I shall not be reading it. I will let A read it, although she has a tendency to judge quickly too, so we'll see how she likes his tone. It reminded me of the 22 year old teacher you get in Sixth Form who isn't quite sure if they really want to be a teacher but they DEFINITELY want ALL the kids to like them ALL THE TIME, so instead of actually teaching you the things you need to learn about your A-Level, tell you about their really cool snowboarding trip. Possibly about three kids think they are cool. The rest of the class is thinking "omg why did you go on a snowboarding trip, you're too OLD, you SAD OLD LOSER".<br />
<br />
According to Amazon, it's about making the most of your own unique personal gifts and strengths. Which I'm sure is a thing to be celebrated. But I can't help but thinking I've bought my precious daughter an assembly in book form. Sorry A. I honestly wasn't trying to be cool. I gave that up a VERY long time ago, and I'll leave that to your uncles.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-68069081600459506402017-01-17T12:22:00.002-08:002017-01-22T13:20:10.300-08:00Learning to love poemsI often think, with poetry anthologies, the packaging is so vital. By which I mean, not just the cover, but the concept behind the anthology, and what it is trying to offer you. Often, these can be depressingly glib "The Nation's Favourite Love Poems!" would do nothing for me, since "the nation" have plenty of favourite things that I think are not really very good at all, such as the Conservative Party and the X-Factor. However, the clever ones can really teach you things - a current favourite is A Poet's Guide to Britain by Owen Sheers, which offers a selection of poems which easily help me to understand what poets have felt about surroundings that are familiar to me, and allow me to perceive them in a new and interesting way.<br />
<br />
A lot of people will tell you that they hate poetry. But if you look at any post on social media that's about loss, grief, the death of someone important, people almost always post a poem. Poetry haters will often have poems at their wedding, and it's very rare to go to a funeral without hearing verse.<br />
<br />
Dissecting poetry is very much a part of GCSE English courses, and has been so since the inception of the qualification, and will probably be so forever. English is about communication, and poetry is a distilled form of communication, laced with all sorts of devices designed to help you write an ancient truth in a new way, or a modern truth in an ancient way. Some students I've taught have thought of poems as a puzzle to be dissected and reassembled, which is usually a helpful way of viewing them.<br />
<br />
What is really, really not helpful is to tell your kids you hate poetry. It's the age old complaint from maths teachers that parents put off students before they've even really got going with "I hated maths at school" or "nobody in our family is good at maths". I've never said this to my kids (well, it's not true in our case, there are loads of very talented mathematicians in our family.) And whilst I wouldn't call myself a talented mathematician, (and neither would anybody else who has ever met me), I try really hard to be positive about maths to my children. Because, actually, they've got to do it! So me moaning about how unfair and rubbish it all is is only going to entrench them in a position of animosity towards maths, and the poor buggers who have got to teach it to them. It simply is not helpful. We all have our preferences for different subjects for study, but surely it's best for our children to discover what theirs are for themselves, rather than based on our hatred of our maths teacher circa 1994, who was probably just annoyed that we spent the entire maths lesson stabbing I LOVE LEE SHARPE'S LEGS with a compass on an eraser, rather than listening to what she was saying.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I digress. With poetry, familiarity kicks out contempt. Babies and toddlers adore poems. I can't think of a toddler who doesn't love a rousing chorus of Row Row or a good reading of Bear Hunt. Keeping this going as the child grows can be challenging, but is really worthwhile. I've blogged before about good poetry books for younger children - there is lots of good stuff about.<br />
<br />
I am about to return to teaching GCSE English after a rather extended time out. What strikes me about the new syllabus is that not only is there a lot of poetry (although, like I said, there always has been), but students are no longer allowed to take the anthology of poems into the exam room with them. This means they have to remember an awful lot about an awful lot of different poems. I think this is a real shame, since it turns the exam into more of a How Good is your Memory? test, rather than a How Good are You at Communicating and Understanding Communication? test, which is what it should be. I am hopeful that by the time my children take the GCSE, there may have been some adaptations. However, for A, this is only three years away (EEEEEEK!), so there probably won't. I realised that A and C don't really read much poetry any more.<br />
<br />
Given that they both love reading, I felt I should try to increase the amount of poetry they're reading, because the more exposure they have now to different poetic forms, the easier it is going to be for them to navigate the choppy sea of GCSE. I bought A Poem for Every Night of the Year by Allie Esiri, partly because it looks great, but also because it keeps the dose of poetry short and regular, like my Nan would have administered cod liver oil. It's also designed to be read in the evening, as a kind of reflection, and sometimes in anticipation of the day to come. For example, on Sunday it was a poem by Langston Hughes, and the explanation of the poem mentioned that Martin Luther King Jr Day is around this date. It was, and C took more of an interest in it, because he had read a poem about it. A is not overly impressed, but is humouring me. C comes down to ask for his poem if I forget to read it to him. He then tells me what he thinks the poem is about. Sometimes his insights are lovely. Sometimes they make literally no sense whatsoever. However, at 10, I'm not really worried what he is saying about the poems, because any engagement is positive. And I'm sure that as time goes on, the perceptive comments will start to appear more frequently. And, most importantly, who knows how long he will let me sit a read a poem to him when he's all fresh out of the bath and in his jammies. MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-8503207819003220392017-01-12T14:04:00.000-08:002017-06-10T08:28:37.559-07:00Finding things to readI was pondering earlier how much easier it is nowadays than in my youth to find something new to read, especially for a young person.<br />
<br />
We had a school library at our school, but the librarian was one of those (sadly all too common) folk who seemed to think that the sole purpose of every other living soul was to annoy her. I remember asking her once (before I was ejected from the library once again) why she worked in a secondary school as she seemed to hate everyone, but specifically teenagers. This is a criticism that I often hear levelled at teachers (only very rarely at me, when I'm having a particularly grumpy phase). However, for her, it did seem true. Her main aim for the library seemed to be emptying it of people who might actually want to use it for, for example, borrowing or browsing books, so that she could sit alone in there, surrounded by bookiness. Which, now I think about it, sounds rather lovely. <br />
<br />
The local library was a much more welcoming and pleasant place to be, although small, and I worked my way through the entire older child and young adult section before I reached 14. WHSmiths was my main source of new reading material, and visits there seemed few and far between. They weren't, of course, but everything seems so V-E-R-Y S-L-O-W when you are young.<br />
<br />
These days, the Internet acts as amazing library and WHSmiths all rolled into one utterly fabulous package. And thanks to cookies (which I'm sure I should be more wary of, but I'm an optimistic sort who struggles to see beyond "isn't new technology WONDERFUL!) my kindle and Amazon KNOW what I want to read next! Perhaps even before I do.<br />
<br />
This is how I stumbled on the fabulous Crongton Knights by Alex Wheatle. I read The Smell of Other People's Houses and the Other People Who Finished This thingy came up with Crongton Knights. It was cheap so I downloaded it. Annoyingly, it's the second novel in a series, so I had to then download and read the first, Liccle Bit, before I could get started. No matter, they're both fabulous. Like when I read A Suitable Boy and Trainspotting back in the far flung days of Smiths and Miss Brookes, the fabulous English teacher, telling me what to read, it took me a while to get my head round the dialect it's written in (the novels are set in Brixton). However, they wouldn't work as a portrayal of life for young people in the area without the dialect, and it's all part of the flavour. They're excellent. Terrifying, exhilarating, depressing, but full of the wonders of the indomitable human spirit. I'm looking forward to any future instalments. Secondary school age plus - gang crime and naked selfies feature, although there is minimal bad language.<br />
<br />
Tonight, C stumbled upon a series of books I have a feeling he is going to love (he is unable to sleep as I write, because he is too excited about what's going to happen next, what fun I'll have getting him out to school in the morning). For the first time in the history of his life, he stumbled on something he enjoys through homework! He was doing a timeline of classical Greece, and he asked me about the epic poems. I gave a relatively comprehensive response (I thought), but my answer to his supplementary question was "I don't really know, I always found it a bit boring." <br />
"WHAT!?" C was aghast at me <br />
"How can you like really boring history programmes and not find classical Greece interesting? I love learning about it!" Hmmm, I thought, how can I make him have faith in me again? Recommend a book. <br />
"You should read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief. I think you'll like it." I'm like a human kindle...MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-936070274844246312017-01-01T10:06:00.001-08:002017-01-02T03:28:12.660-08:00The Smell of Other People's Houses by Bonnie-Sue HitchcockI wrote this blog post yesterday evening, after a promise to myself that I would start writing it again in the New Year. It being New Year's Day, I felt it was a little early to break a resolution, so a post, any post must be written. If I were to mark the original post (green pen, natch), it would say "please re-read, and preferably re-write, when you are not suffering from the ill effects of sloe gin and cassis flavoured fizz. This does not represent your best work." So that it what I am now doing. My actual marking will have to wait a little longer.<br />
<br />
I'm not entirely sure that my emotional response to the end of this book was entirely appropriate or proportionate, due to my tired and emotional state. Either way, I finished my first book of 2017, and it was utterly brilliant.<br />
<br />
It's for secondary school age children - there is death, teen pregnancy and domestic violence, but it isn't violent or particularly hard hitting. It's set in Alaska in 1970, and although I've never been to Alaska, and wasn't around in 1970, the reader gets a very strong sense of place and community. It's narrated through several different characters, but this doesn't make it disjointed, as they are all woven into the narrative seamlessly. Apparently, it started from an exercise at a writing class which was "write about the smell of other people's houses". And it is a little bit about that, but it's about an awful lot more too.<br />
<br />
The only criticism I would have, is that it's about as accurate about what teenage love is like as Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn, except instead of vampires, there are broken-hearted floppy-haired gorgeous runaway indie boys. In this book, all you have to do to make one of said boys fall in love with you is be a bit intuitive, good at ballet and fishing, or be pregnant and look a bit sad. I'm pretty sure young love is not actually that simple. And I say this as somebody, who, seventeen years ago around this time, feel instantly in love with a floppy haired gorgeous indie boy, and, as it felt at the time, but some miraculous aligning of the planets, he liked me too. I call it love at first sight, because it paints me in a MUCH better light than "the first time I saw him he was so impossibly gorgeous, funny and lovely that I went home and dumped my boyfriend", which makes me sound a LOT more shallow. So I'll stick with love at first sight, and that is what I shall be telling my grandchildren thank you very much.<br />
<br />
Therefore if even I think it's ludicrously unrealistic about young love, then it definitely is. I have given A the book to read, but with the above warning (taking out the bits that make her mother sound shallow, obv). I hope that one day she will remember the first time she ever saw the love of her life, and remember the first words he ever said to her ("is this seat taken?" "NO. NOT NOW NOT EVER, SIT THERE AND NEVER MOVE") but I realise that this is not everyone's experience. And actually, the first flush of excitement, however exciting and wonderful it is does get a little dulled by everyday routines and having to organise children and money and tax and going to the tip and other crap things you (usually) don't have to do when you're 20.<br />
<br />
But, hey, it's a lovely book. Don't judge it by its romanticised version of life. Sometimes we all need a little bit of unlikely and miraculous love in our lives, and if we need to get that from a novel, then so be it.<br />
<br />
<br />MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-62576498269738616752016-04-05T13:09:00.000-07:002016-04-05T13:09:06.724-07:00Whispers in the Graveyard by Theresa BreslinHaving read the entire shortlist in record quick time (for me anyway), I decided I would embark on reading every Carnegie prize winner since the prize was inaugurated (1936 as it turns out). This is not going to be a quick effort I don't think. Most of the books are still in print (which is pretty impressive, really), but some are trickier to track down.<br />
<br />
Lots of my favourites are represented. The second ever winner was The Family From One End Street, which is one of my favourite books of all time (obviously A hated it, as the fates would suggest). I would strongly encourage you to read it if you haven't already, it's short and really very good indeed. Tom's Midnight Garden, Watership Down and The Ghost of Thomas Kempe are other books I have loved.<br />
<br />
I've read lots of the classic winners, and also most of the winners from the late 1990s and early 2000s. I trained to teach English in 2003, and our tutor was very passionate about the need for us to keep up to date with YA literature, so that we can push our students on and make recommendations based on contemporary knowledge. This was fine when I was a student and had no children and not a great deal else to do. I read voraciously and with great enjoyment. <br />
<br />
I still find time to read YA literature; mainly because I now only work two days per week (more accurately, I am only *paid* to work two days a week). I honestly don't know how full-time English teachers manage to keep up with YA literature now, along with their absolutely crippling workload. And I know you'll all think - in their 13 weeks of holiday, but for teachers who are also parents, that's their time for re-introducing themselves to their own children. And catching up with the marking and planning for the term ahead. The answer is that probably most English teachers don't. Which is sad and worrying.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I started my quest with Whispers in the Graveyard, which won in 1994. I don't remember this book, but I'd say it's probably aimed at younger secondary aged children and I was at the dog end of my compulsory schooling by 1994. It's very good. It's like a Kestrel For a Knave-lite mixed with The Graveyard Book. The main character is loveable, and there is a redemptive Miss Honey figure who the reader can't help but fall in love with. Excellent for boosting the confidence of children with dyslexia, which is one of the themes of the novel. It's a very short read, so good for a holiday bedtime story.<br />
<br />
<br />MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-56194282159723858822016-04-02T05:24:00.002-07:002016-04-02T05:24:59.906-07:00Five Children on the Western Front by Kate SaundersNow that I've finished reading all of the books shortlisted for the Carnegie prize (oh yes, and burned quite a lot of toast along the way, "multi-tasking"), I have decided which one I want to win (I have never actually agreed with the panel on this front, by the way, which is a bit of a blow.)<br />
<br />
Ironically it's the one about which I said to our school librarian "I don't want to read that one. I bet it's really, really boring". She said that she'd thought it was really rather wonderful, and, in fairness, I normally agree with her about books, but my hopes were still not high. A feels the same, and said "I'll read that one last. It's the one Mrs D says is most appropriate for Year 7, so it'll probably be rubbish."<br />
<br />
Oh, but it's not. I don't know if an actual child would like it as much as I do. It's a sequel to Five Children and It. I do not have fond memories of this particular work. I never actually read it, but when I was at school the cool girl who got all the boys, and looked a bit like me but prettier, and had a figure a bit like mine but with bigger boobs, and got the solo I wanted in the choir concert, she used to call me Psammead. We're actually very good friends now, despite the fact that she looks about ten years younger than I do, and is still sickeningly good looking. She doesn't call me Psammead any more, in fairness.<br />
<br />
It's fair to say, I wouldn't have read this if it hadn't been shortlisted. The psychological scars are still too deep. However, I'm so glad I did. It made me laugh, sob, REALLY care about what was going to happen and think about the past, forgiveness, guilt and regret (I hope it makes my friend feel all these things too! Joking, obviously, I am so over it, honestly. Completely, that's why I've hardly even mentioned it in this post).<br />
<br />
It's set during WW1, with the original five children, plus their youngest sister, who was not born during the events of the first book. I don't want to ruin the plot, so won't say too much, but the threads of the story are drawn together in a hugely satisfactory way. It feels nostalgic, but not cloying. It's an incredible achievement.<br />
<br />
<br />
I really, really hope it wins. I cannot urge you strongly enough to read it to your child (I would say 8+, there is death, but in an honourable non-gory Harry Potter way.) I am going to read it as our next bedtime story, in the hope that reading the ENTIRE interminable series of Origami Sodding Yoda will make C more open to something he wouldn't normally choose. We'll see...MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-45928496125847367282016-04-02T04:55:00.001-07:002016-04-02T04:55:41.970-07:00The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick NessWell now, this one was the most expensive on Kindle, hence it was the last one I read. Over eight of your English pounds no less! And yes, I know I should have ordered it from the library and waited, but our local library is open for about an hour on the third Wednesday of the second month (this may be a slight exaggeration), and when I need to read a book, I need to read it right now. This is also the way I feel about tea. I should be glad, I think, that I never got into smoking and that red wine brutally disagrees with me.<br />
<br />
Anyway, what an amazing book. It's aimed at a YA audience, but I really think everyone should read it. Yes, everyone in the entire world, and that includes you. Assuming that at any point in your life you have felt a bit unsure of yourself, like every one of your friends is only pretending to be your friend, and actually they feel really sorry for you, and that you are actually a bit rubbish at everything you do, and that will, ultimately cause everything to go horribly wrong for you and everyone you love. If you've never felt that way, then fab, keep on keeping on, and good luck to you and all that, but I don't really trust you, by the way, not really.<br />
<br />
I'm so glad Patrick Ness thought of this idea, and not someone else, who has great ideas but not the technical skill to create a great novel out of it (see my review of <i>The Killables</i> hidden deep somewhere in this blog). I would do a link, but I'm ill in bed, and that's far too much effort, so just read the whole blog, and you'll find it. I'm sure you have time to do that, what with not having any real friends, and everything. <br />
<br />
I'm not going to say too much about the idea of the novel, because discovering that is part of the joy of this novel (I suggest you don't read the description, the blurb, or any of the reviews, apart from this one). It follows 18 year old Mikey, in the weeks leading up to his graduation. I think, even for the most tethered-to-reality of us, that's a difficult phase in your life anyway, where things become a bit less obviously planned out. A personal chord was struck for me by the fact that Mikey and his big sister Mel are both old enough to leave home that summer, leaving their 10 year old sister home with her (dysfunctional) parents. This might well be what happens to BabyM. This is one of my personal weak spots since one of my colleagues, on seeing my obvious bump said "Wow, that's a bit age gap you'll have there! I'm by far the youngest of my siblings. I've always completely hated it. It's like they had this family, and then I just came along afterwards and never really fitted in" Thanks for that. I hope it's not quite such a difficult home as theirs, but I guess the issue is we all think we're actually perfectly normal really, and that's part of the point of this novel. Also, that not being normal is actually find and OK. But not in an "Hey kids! It's OK to be just who you are!" kind of way. In a brilliant novel kind of way.<br />
<br />
I hope this doesn't win the Carnegie, because Patrick Ness has won it loads of times before, and books like this seem to win it year after year. But it is brilliant, and it possibly should win. And you, yes, you know who you are, should definitely read it. And get your kids to read it too, but not the little ones because there are adult themes (ie sex). Read it first, and then decide. I don't think you'll regret it. (You might of course, and then secretly hate me even more than you did before.)<br />
<br />MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-33291446368613798612016-03-29T13:48:00.001-07:002016-04-02T05:01:09.390-07:00The Ghosts of Heaven by Marcus Sedgwick<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Now. I know a lot of
people like depictions of the darker side of life in their cultural
consumption. There’s an awful lot of
murder, abuse, genocide in films, books, television. This is fine, each to his own and all that,
but if you’re all have a pint of very dark bitter tasting ale, I’ll have a
Malibu and pineapple with a paper umbrella in it, thanks. I mean, sometimes I’ll have a nice glass of
Burgundy, but probably with a handful of Mini Eggs, just to sweeten things up.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s not that I don’t like books that are a little dark. My
favourite book as a late teen was Wuthering Heights, which is not exactly the
epitome of all things cheery. But, here’s
the thing. Wuthering Heights was
exceptionally good. Interesting plot,
complex characters – a masterpiece. It
had something new to say about the world, and didn’t leave you feel as deflated
as a balloon that a toddler has loved.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Marcus Sedgwick is a good writer, I don’t doubt that. C absolutely loves his Raven mysteries, A
adored She is Not Invisible, I liked Midwinterblood a lot. This book is a little like the latter, in
that it’s four interlinked stories.
Well, three stories, one poem.
Unfortunately, unlike Midwinterblood, it’s not very good.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So we’ve got four tales, and the topics we cover are
genocide, executing innocent young girls, abuse and suicide of mentally ill
people, and mass murder. Linking these
four stories is the symbol of the spiral, which, Sedgwick seems to say, will
result in the same people killing and obliterating each other, ad infinitum.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This book made me too unsettled to sleep, and depressed at
the state of the world, with no redemption whatsoever, and it’s not even very
clever. The “link” between the four
stories is a clumsily added motif.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I really hope this doesn’t win the Carnegie, as it’s the
only one on the shortlist this year, that, to my mind, does not really merit
its place.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Its themes mean that I wouldn’t recommend it to under
13s. I have already suggested to A that
she leave it till last, in the hope that she’ll never actually get to it. </span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-25959174364033072172016-03-27T13:19:00.000-07:002016-03-27T13:19:15.284-07:00Fire Colour One by Jenny Valentine
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another strong female protagonist (complete with a side
order of arson issues) and a sad, complex family tale, with a bit of art thrown
in for good measure. I expect A will enjoy this one, it’s rather good for
exploring teen angst. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s the story of Iris, daughter of a selfish mother, who
only gets to know her father as he is dying.
Iris’s mother is a consummate gold digger, and, since she is broke and
still married to Iris’s father, she sees his death as the ideal opportunity to
get her hands on his priceless paintings.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A fabulous plot and some characters to care about and to
despise, this is a good read. It also encouraged
me to look into some new artists, so is a good one for any arty types. It’s not for little ones, secondary school
age plus. You may get some interesting
questions about arson.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-36910413524918236882016-03-25T13:12:00.002-07:002016-03-25T13:12:59.326-07:00There Will be Lies by Nick Lake
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There Will be Lies </span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">by
Nick Lake was the next cheapish Kindle purchase. Also, its cover makes it look like a typical
dystopian adventure, of which I am a massive fan, so I expected to love
it. I did love it, but it’s utterly not
a dystopian adventure, despite its cover looking a lot like </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Uglies</span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lake was previously shortlisted for the Carnegie for </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In Darkness</span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">. I didn’t realise this until
my friend, who happens to be the school librarian mentioned it after I told her
I’d read it. I absolutely would not have known that the author was the same
person. Looking back with the benefit of
retrospect, the expert handling of a dual narrative, although less obvious in
this novel, was employed again. I much
preferred this novel though. Although </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In Darkness</span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> was powerful, it took about
half the book before I even understood it, let alone started to enjoy it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I enjoyed this book from the very beginning. It reminded me of </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Room</span></i><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> in lots of ways, although it is more appropriate for a YA
audience than that novel. It’s a very
clever exploration of relationships and how we construct our view of
ourselves. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are twists aplenty, as the title suggests there will
be, and they all had me flummoxed. The
plot moves swiftly and is interesting, the heroine is complex and
likeable. I absolutely love it. I don’t think it will win, because it isn’t
self-consciously literary enough to win the Carnegie, but I think it’s
great. It’s not quite my winner, I don’t
think, but it’s a very, very good read.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-65499739214256486132016-03-25T05:01:00.000-07:002016-03-25T05:01:44.739-07:00Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley<span style="font-family: "calibri";">True to form, I moved on to Lies We Tell Ourselves because
it was cheap in the Kindle store. I was
a bit concerned that it was going to be a little IN YOUR FACE ISHOOS, and that
the characters might suffer as a result.
In fact, the heroine, who, like Faith in The Lie Tree, is quite an angry
young woman, is rather wonderful. The
reader is supposed to admire Faith, but I don’t think the reader is expected to
like her, since she is a rather unlikeable character. However, the success of Lies We Tell
Ourselves depends on the reader liking the heroine, Sarah. She is wonderfully drawn, the narrative
wonderfully depicts a strong and bright teenage mind in utter turmoil. Not only does Sarah have to deal with the
disgusting behaviour displayed by the white students at her new school, she
also has to deal with the realisation that she does not have the feelings she
is supposed to have for boys, but she has them for girls instead.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This, rather wonderfully, does not make for a depressing
book, although the depiction of racial hatred is often very uncomfortable to
read about. Indeed, the book is full of
hope, and of the belief that people can change the world, even if it’s a very
little bit at a time.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s for the more mature reader. For a start, there are the
issues that it deals with, along with the associated language. There is also
violence and abuse of innocent young people.
It’s a book that makes the reader angry and motivated to challenge
abuses where they are seen, but it is hard hitting.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-81556426583405221302016-03-22T15:03:00.001-07:002016-03-22T15:03:32.031-07:00The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This one felt a bit like doing my homework before it was
even set. I’d read this before the shortlist was announced. It was an impulse purchase in WHSmith when I
was a little befuddled by the hugeness of Westfield in Stratford. And when I am feeling befuddled, the smell of
a new book can help to anchor me to somewhere I feel safe, since there is
always a new book smell somewhere in my house! Anyway, this one had won a prize
in a competition that wasn’t just for children’s books, which is pretty
amazing. I had been rather nervously
looking for a book to recommend to my book group; nervously because what if everyone
else in the group thought it was rubbish? What if all the books I like are
terrible? Will I get kicked out of Book
Group? I decided that if this book was
good enough to win a prize that wasn’t a horribly literary prize for boring
books, then I’d probably be OK.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To cut a long story short, The Lie Tree is rather fab. It also has the benefit of not being about
racism or lesbians, so the questions from my eldest offspring will probably be
more along the lines of “what does vehemently mean?”, which are, on the whole,
easier to deal with during her brother’s bath-time than “but why were the
Southern states of America in the 1950s structurally racist?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Lie Tree is about feminism, but not in an ISSUES way, in
quite a clever, woven into the story kind of way. It tells the story of Faith,
daughter of a famous scientist, who is embroiled in a mystery as to why her
previously esteemed father has been disgraced. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Age 11+, but the language is difficult and old-fashioned, so for strong readers or one for parents to read out loud. Not for the very nervous.</span></div>
MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-13120716900597191762016-03-22T15:00:00.002-07:002016-03-22T15:00:54.882-07:00Carnegie Shortlist
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, I am more determined than ever to read all of the
books shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal.
Last year was the first year I managed to do this, and it was wonderful
when the winner was announced to think “Yep, read that, it was good”. I think that’s the other thing too, I’ve
never read a bad book when reading the Carnegie shortlist. I’ve read some that weren’t necessarily to my
taste, but I’ve never read a bad one.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, A is joining the Carnegie Shadowing group at
school. She’s had to have a special
consent form to be allowed to do it, as she’s only in Year 7 and some of the
books have a content guide of 13+.
However, given that I was reading Danielle Steele at the age of 10, it
would have felt somewhat churlish not to sign that form. At least she’s more likely to get a
well-rounded view of love and romance from gritty teenage fiction than she is
from sub Jilly Cooper formulaic claptrap (my apologies to Ms Steele, because it
was rather fabulous claptrap, at the time.) So that’s probably another reason
to want to read all of them – so I know exactly what new things she will be
learning. There have been some
interesting discussions so far occasioned by the first book she has read, which
takes as its themes desegregation of Virginian schools and lesbianism. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I tend to look at the shortlist and have a view about which
one I am going to like the best. If I
had all the books in front of me, I’d probably start with the best, and work my
way down to the ones I’m least looking forward to reading, which is a terrible,
terrible idea. However, luckily, I have
a different method of choosing – whichever book is cheapest on kindle on the
day of shortlisting is the first book I read.
I’ve found that the prices of kindle books can change day to day, so by
the time I’ve got through the first few books, the others have generally come
down in price. And it means that I
spread out the books I’m looking forward to with the ones I don’t think I’ll
like.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That being said, I should really have learned by now that
the ones I think I’ll hate often end up being the ones I like the most…</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-67027603950803735062015-11-09T13:37:00.000-08:002015-11-09T13:37:31.884-08:00Sometimes you want a burger, not fillet steak (apparently).So, we had a bit of a discussion, C and I, about bedtime stories recently. He'd asked for <i>The Hobbit</i>,<i></i> but then had started reading it in shared reading at school, so that stalled. "Anyway", he said "I've not enjoyed the bedtime stories we've had really, since <i>Cosmic</i>."<i></i> C adored <i>Cosmic. </i>I<i></i>t was about a slightly geeky boy who liked computer games more than actual life, and who liked rollercoasters, and didn't want to be lonely. It could have been written for him.<br />
<br />
I was unsure what to do. I am evangelical about story reading to older kids, probably to the point of being quite annoying. But I didn't feel comfortable saying "But you have to have a bedtime story because it's good for you, and I say you do." C has enough of that in his life without me picking a battle about something he's supposed to enjoy!<br />
<br />
I tried a different tack, asking me to tell me about a bedtime story he enjoyed. He picked <i>Horton Halfpott</i> <i></i>by Tom Angleberger, which, invariably, was one that I thought was overwhelmingly average, at best. "He's written some about Star Wars puppets, can we have those?"<br />
<br />
I firmly believe that a major benefit of reading to older children is to give them access to books that might be too difficult for them to read independently. However, they absolutely have to be on board with this, or there's no engagement, and no point. I am hoping that this will return. However, for the moment, I am reading an entire series of books set in an American middle school about the adventures of a wise origami finger puppet in the shape of Yoda. I am attempting to see it as an exercise in comparing UK and American English. However, I think it's more likely that C is learning that unlikely romantic scenarios (the cool class beauty falling for the geek) are commonplace, and that going to school in America is much more fun than going to school here.<br />
<br />
What makes these books for which I am absolutely NOT the target audience just about manageable is that C is really enjoying his bedtime story again, and A sneaks in to listen most evenings. "It's quite a good tale really", she says. I try not to pull an unconvinced face, because, actually, this evening I was quite interested to know whether or not Origami Yoda would solve the issue of the girl in drama group with body odour. In case you're wondering, he did, but rather unsuccessfully, in my considered opinion.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-9463436816746655302015-10-06T09:01:00.003-07:002015-10-06T09:01:36.501-07:00A year on - a resolution to blog again! And some fantastic CDsIt was drawn to my attention by the On This Day Facebook app that the last time I posted to this blog was a year ago. I am not sure quite what happened - I blame mindless Internet use (for most things actually!) I am not sure how I feel about this app. Whilst I love being reminded of some wonderful moments, and adorable pictures, it kind of feels like my life slowly ebbing away, documented coldly by Facebook. Also seeing many smiling pictures of my late-twenties self is not great for the late-30s ego, especially first thing in the morning, when I tend to check it. I was also prompted by a friend, who has started to write a rather wonderful 1930s blog, which I will link to when I work out how!<br />
<br />
Anyway, I am determined to start again - I really enjoy writing this blog, and am ready to dive back in to the world of children's fiction (not that I ever left it - I just stopped blogging about it!)<br />
<br />
Our most successful recent purchase is not a book, but has led to a great love for several books. <a href="http://www.thebookpeople.co.uk/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/qs_product_tbp?productId=496909&storeId=10001&catalogId=10051&langId=100&searchTerm=join+in" target="_blank">These</a> wonderful CDs from The Book People were bought for BabyM when he was far too young to appreciate them. However now that he is two (although still, resolutely The Baby, as I fear he will remain, thanks to the 7.5 year age gap between him and his nearest sibling) he is greatly enjoying them.<br />
<br />The CDs are based around a story for young children. The story is read with musical accompaniment, and then songs and activities follow. Some are longer than others, We're Going on a Bear Hunt seems to go on for decades (disclaimer, I am the only person ever to HATE this book), and Owl Babies is too short (meaning that you have to listen to it about eight times in a journey of any length). However, they are fantastic. BabyM now knows all of the words to Owl Babies, We're Going on a Bear Hunt and Guess How Much I Love You, and loves reading those books at bedtime (the pack doesn't come with the books, but you will not be surprised to hear that we have most of them already!)<br />
<br />
We haven't listened to a couple of them yet, for example The Mousehole Cat, as I think BabyM is a little young to appreciate their subtleties. However, for £9.99, this is the perfect Christmas present for the toddler in your life. Their parents may or may not hate you, depending on their tolerance for listening to Baby Owl Bill singing "I want my Mummy" on repeat. The toddler will love you though, and that's the main thing.MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-736002138400150900.post-81501543022098495622014-10-06T12:40:00.003-07:002014-10-06T12:40:53.339-07:00"SHARE IT SHARE IT": The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister.Funny thing, sharing. When A was a toddler, she would wend her marauding way around church halls at toddler group plucking choice plastic fripperies from other small children chanting "share it share it" as she went. To her, "share it" meant "you have to give that thing to me because I want it."<br />
<br />
"You've got to share" says every parent to every small child ever. This is backed up in countless moral tales designed for little folk. Our particular favourite in this house is <em>The Rainbow Fish</em> by Marcus Pfister. We were given this as a bath book when A was a baby. We loved it from the start, mainly because the author's surname amused us. I think that's the thing when you have very small children - life can seem to be a series of fairly dull, repetitive tasks based around bodily fluids, and so any small amusement is seized upon, because godammitweneedsomethingtolaughatorwe'lljustsitdownandweep.<br />
<br />
<em>The Rainbow Fish </em>is a lovely book, and the illustrations are really very beautiful. MrM and I still remember all of the words a decade on, which suggests either that it is liltingly memorable, or that we read it every day for such an excessive number of years that it is now permanently etched into our memories. Or perhaps a bit of both. It concerns a fish who has many pretty rainbow-coloured scales. A small fish asks for a scale. Drama ensues.<br />
<br />
Two things strike me:<br />
<br />
1.There are things that it is important to share, and things that are surely not. I mean, you make a massive cake, it's better to share. You get given two books for Christmas that are the same - obviously giving one away is a sensible option. You share what you are able to, in a manner that suits you. However, in this book, the fish is being asked to give away actual bodily parts. And not just any bodily parts. Lovely shiny ones. If I were out and about, and a person I'd never met asked me to cut some of my hair off and give it to them, I would firmly, and possibly not altogether politely, decline. We expect toddlers to share all the time, I think mainly because it stops other mums giving us evils. We expect our small child to climb out of the cosy coupe and let another small child have some fun in it. But if someone came along and stood by my car menacingly and started shouting that they wanted to drive it, no way would I get out and hand the keys over! I can understand why toddlers think that sharing sucks. Even more so when this sharing involves taking off actual bits of your skin, and giving it away.<br />
<br />
2. If a fish removed a large proportion of their scales, surely that would really hurt! The fish would look really mangy, and possibly even die (disclaimer: I am not a fish health expert, but it can't be good, can it?)<br />
<br />
The message of the rainbow fish is if people ask for some of your really good stuff, give it to them, and they'll like you. If you refuse, they won't play with you. When you give them your good stuff, they will then like you, and you will all look the same, as you will have redistributed the very things that give you your unique look and persona. Obliterate the self in order that others will deign to keep you company. Well, sod that for a game of soldiers. If I were the rainbow fish, I'd be keeping every single one of those scales, not being bullied into negating my very self for the sake of "sharing". Pah. MrsMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15172897973453731571noreply@blogger.com0