The book that divided our book group: Close my Eyes by Sophie McKenzie

Sophie McKenzie's Close my Eyes: Did you love it or loathe it?

It was book group at my place this morning. On the menu: coffee, blueberry muffins and Sophie McKenzie's Close my Eyes. It's the story of a novelist who is struggling to cope with life after her baby was stillborn eight years ago and then hears out of the blue that her child didn't die, but was stolen. It's a gripping tale with plenty of action (but happily not much gore) and the plot keeps you guessing until the very last page. Reading a female-centric thriller is refreshing and the book's ending is truly chilling. I actually thought it was the best part of the book and would have started reading the sequel straight away if there was one. 

Most of the women in our group loved it. One of us just couldn't get into it and had given up - but she went away from the group thinking she would try again. 

What I liked less, and this is a common criticism of thrillers of course, is that I found the characters in the book two-dimensional and couldn't engage with any of them. I kept reading because I really wanted to know how the story panned out but, to be honest, I didn't really care about any of the people in the story - even the heroine. That surprised me because, as a writer and mother myself, I fully expected to empathise with her.

Having said that, if you like a good psychological thriller, I'd recommend this book. It's original, gripping while you're reading it and haunts you afterwards. Read it and see for yourself. I'd love to hear what you think...

Walking on the (literary) dark side

A. M. Homes: is the truth darker than her fiction?

A. M. Homes prize-winning novel May We Be Forgiven is ‘breathtakingly dark’ according to Mark Brown, art correspondent for the The Guardian. I haven’t read it yet but, according to Brown, May We Be Forgiven: ‘has a devastating car crash, adultery and a murder within the space of the first 14 pages.’ Does that sound like too much? I, for one, don’t think so.

I’ve never been a fan of horror movies or thrillers. I don’t like to see blood spill or heads roll; I get frustrated with whodunnits because I’m more interested in the whydunnit. Yet I’m tempted to the dark side when reading – and writing – because books help us explore and interpret that darkness. Many great novels, Emma Donoghue’s Room or Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk about Kevin, for example, don’t just have a dark side, but were in fact inspired by heinous human deeds. We all know life can be cruel, so why wouldn’t we expect or want our literature to reflect that? These books have the potential to shine a light into the darkness and help us understand the incomprehensible. The best novels give us both light and shade, the light all the more lovely in contrast to the gloom.

My own novel Burned has been described as dark. To start with I was surprised, I thought I’d written a book celebrating the transforming power of parental love. Now, on reflection, I’m pleased to hear that adjective applied to my writing. Not so long ago I was browsing The Reading Chronicle online and read that someone had committed the very crime that lies at the heart of my book. So to anyone who says they aren’t comfortable with dark novels, I’d simply say: ‘don’t read them.’ But don’t kid yourself: the truth, if I may rephrase an old saying, is darker than fiction.

The reading forecast: 5 great wet weather reads

What's the reading forecast?

It's wet and wild here in Sydney. Frankly, I just want to hibernate. The only good thing about being forced to stay indoors is the extra guilt-free reading time it brings. Fortunately, I've got several books on my to-read list and, as soon as my work is done, I'll be curling up with a hot water bottle and one of these:

1. And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini
All I know about Hosseini's new book is that, like his previous novels, The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns, it begins in Afghanistan. I loved both these books so that's enough for me. I'll let you know how I get on.

2. Close My Eyes by Sophie McKenzie
Described as a 'riveting psychological thriller about a grieving mother who finds out years after her daughter's death that her child may still be alive,' this book intrigues me for several reasons. The book's subject matter, of course, sounds gripping and I'm sure it will be beautifully written too; McKenzie is a very successful journalist turned author. Who knows, I might even pick up a few tips from her.

3. The Twins by Saskia Sarginson
I lived and worked in London in the '80's. Sarginson did too - she was the editor of Company, a glossy magazine for young women; while I was in PR, trying to garner publicity in magazines such as hers. I didn't really know her, but I did recognise her name when I saw it on the front cover of The Twins. I heard she excelled in her MA in creative writing and am sure this book, probably just the first from this talented Brit, will be a joy to read.

4. The Light Between Oceans by M L Stedman
I was given this book a little while ago and haven't yet gotten around to reading it, possibly because I know I'm going to love it and don't want to fritter it away in 10-minute breaks between jobs. It's described as 'a mesmerising novel of loyalty, love and unbearable choices.' I know it will be one to savour.

Andy Mulligan's The Boy with Two Heads: a book worth sharing?

5. The Boy with Two Heads by Andy Mulligan
I love reading to my two boys and am always on the look out for the next book we can share. The book blurb says: 'How would you feel if you woke up and found another head growing out of your neck? ... a living, breathing, talking head with a rude, sharp tongue and an evil sense of humour. It knows all your darkest thoughts and it's not afraid to say what it thinks.' It sounds like the old Richard E. Grant movie, How to Get Ahead in Advertising - reinterpreted for kids. That's fine with us. It's a great idea for a story and somehow I think Mulligan's version might be even more entertaining.

What's on your to-read list this winter?

Nigella and Charles: is this their final chapter?

Nigella Lawson: time for a fresh start?

Dark, voluptuous and a great cook, Nigella Lawson is everything I'm not and I like her all the more for it. We don't hear too much about her in Sydney but when we do, she reminds me of my life in London. 

My husband and I were given How to Eat as a wedding present and I bought How to be a Domestic Goddess when I was pregnant with my first son. I loved her elegant and rather camp writing style as much as I loved her recipes. She was part of London weekends too. When The Times  plopped through the letterbox each Saturday morning, I would go straight to the magazine. For her column about beauty and make-up (wittier and more intelligent than you might think) and her first husband, John Diamond's column about his battle with oral cancer. Reading them both was a Saturday morning ritual and I joined the nation in mourning when John died. More than a decade later, I still have Nigella's books on a shelf in my kitchen and dip into them regularly, especially when I'm planning on baking.

She hasn't been much on my radar over the last few years. Those Twinings ads are enough to make me want to give up tea altogether and I haven't bought any of her recent books. But I couldn't have been more horrified to see her on the news this week, with her husband, Charles Saatchi's hands around her throat. I read that Saatchi has now been cautioned by police yet, bizarrely, he claims no real harm has been done:

"Nigella's tears were because we both hate arguing, not because she had been hurt."

If that's what he thinks, Saatchi evidently knows more about fiction than the rest of us. I was relieved to hear that Nigella and her children from her first marriage had left the family home. I hope they don't return. Nigella has already lost her mother, Vanessa; her sister, Thomasina; and her first husband, John. After so much sadness in her life, I'd like to think her story will have a happy ending. After what's unfolded this week, Saatchi is no hero in my book. I hope to God, he isn't in hers.

What do you think?

The wonder of Wonder: 5 reasons I love this book

May was madness in our house. The combination of a well-above average number of writing projects, the kids' school and sports commitments, the impending publication of Burned and all of us bar the dog falling sick, meant my stress levels were at an all-time high. Trying to squeeze more productive hours out of each day, I got up too early, went to bed too late, and ditched every task I deemed 'non-essential'. Sadly, reading was one of the casualties.

So it has taken me weeks to read R. J. Palacio's Wonder. I read the last few pages this morning and am so glad I did. It's one of the best books I've read in ages. Here's why:

1. It's a simple story, beautifully told. The language is restrained, understated and all the more powerful for it. Here's the most famous example:

'My name is August. I won't describe what I look like. Whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse.' 

2. The story allows us to inhabit the minds of kids and adults. As we follow August's journey through fifth grade, we see his story from several points of view. It's a great technique and skillfully used here - all our questions are answered but with the lightest of touches.

3. It's an elegantly structured book - the story arc follows the school year and each bite-sized chapter leaves you wanting more.

4. Its simplicity is deceptive. As I say, in many ways Wonder is a simple tale, but it does pose bigger questions. 'Which side of the fence would I be on in this situation?' for starters.

5. Wonder is, without question, a great read for adults or kids. Better still you can enjoy it together - I'm going to start it with my boys tonight.

There is so much I can learn from this book, as a writer and as a human being. I saw on Twitter that Wonder is being made into a movie. I'll be first in the queue.

Shouty Dad starts a new chapter

Don't ask me to look after your avocado

I was never too keen on Friends Reunited. Of course, it's always lovely when people first get in touch; the first email or two can be quite exciting. But once you're past the catch-up phase and have relived a few great memories in old stomping grounds, you usually realise why you lost touch in the first place - you simply don't have anything in common any more and you have to let the friendship die all over again...

But then along came Twitter, a much better way to look up auld acquaintance and see if a connection can be dusted down and made good again. And that's how Shouty Dad and I rekindled our friendship. Once upon a time were both reading English at Sussex Uni in the UK. We moved in different circles and didn't see each other all that much, but we did get on well and I'm not sure why we eventually lost touch. It might have been because he got married or perhaps it was because I killed his avocado plant while he went traveling. Either way, our paths diverged for a decade or two.

By the time we bumped into each other again on Twitter, I'd moved to Australia. But I was delighted to run into him online and greatly enjoy reading his dry, witty blog about family life: shoutydad.com/

When Burned was picked up by Random House, I thought about asking Shouty if he'd like to read it. Of course, I valued his opinion, he's no mean writer himself, but I knew things could be a little awkward if he didn't like it. As it happens I needn't have worried. Here's his review:

'An act of revolting violence done to a homeless man lies at the heart of this stunning debut novel. 

As the impact of the attack ripples out - the apparent pointlessness of the brutality making it seem all the more plausible - Persephone Nicholas picks apart with forensic skill the lives of those affected. 

In a gripping story that switches seamlessly between characters, countries and the passing of time, she focuses on Noah Daniels, a young lad who witnesses the attack.

As he falls under police suspicion, Noah’s innocent and gentle life begins to fall apart - and in one of the book’s many subtle echoes, he too becomes violent, lashing out against those closest to him.

Burned is thoroughly absorbing, its writing mature and assured, especially so for a first novel. There's not a misplaced or superfluous word throughout, and Nicholas keeps the story bowling along with short chapters and frequent changes of location between Sydney and England.

Her characters are totally believable - especially slimy Rich, Noah's feckless dad - and she gets inside the head of young people and adults alike with convincing accuracy.

Long after you’ve finished the last page, the personalities and places stay in your mind. You won’t visit Salisbury again without being reminded of the nasty underbelly present even in England’s prettiest city. Nor will you pass a homeless man without thinking that he, too, once had a different life.

This powerful book by a new writer with a glittering future deserves to be read.'

Burned will be out on Amazon kindle on May 29 and in print from August. I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Who the hell is Ida Pollock?

Loving these vintage covers..

If you'd asked me a few weeks ago what I thought of Ida Pollock, I would probably have said: 'Who the hell is Ida Pollock?

I'd never heard of her until I read Simon de Bruxelles' recent piece in The Times. Not surprising perhaps given she has numerous noms de plume and began her writing career more than 90 years ago. The surprising thing is that she's still going. Yes, at 105, Ida Pollock, who started writing at the age of 14 and already has 123 novels under her belt, is publishing two more this year.

Her stories are romances - she's written 70 books just for Mills & Boon - and may not be everyone's cup of tea but I for one admire Ida. Here's why:

1. She knew what she wanted to do from an early age - and did it.

2. She's found her niche and made herself at home there.

3. Her output is prodigious - she focuses on the job and gets it done.

4. Her books are romantic escapism pure and simple.  Ida says she loves writing them and I'm sure her readers enjoy them all the more because she does.

5. There's not a butt plug in sight.

Ida is an inspiration. When she turned 105 last month, The Romantic Novelists' Association (which she founded) made her their honorary vice president.

I'd like to add my best wishes too. Ida Pollock, Rose Burghley, Mary Whistler, Marguerite Bell, Joan Allen - whoever you are, I salute you. Many happy returns.

Who's inspiring you this week? I'd love to know...