Abbie’s husband Nick disappeared six years ago. Since then she has barely left her flat, going through rituals each time she does, leaving notes and familiar items out, in case he comes back and to entice him to stay. She searches for him every day, giving out leaflets and calling old friends. She is simply existing. She met Nick when she was in her early teens and theirs is a story of young love and a desperation to be together against the odds. We learn about their relationship through flashbacks told from Abbie’s perspective.
Owen is recently separated and moves in upstairs from Abbie. He’s having a hard time adjusting and misses his children. He is drawn to Abbie, feeling sorry for her and her lonely life. But Owen’s presence has an affect on Abbie too. Her routine is interrupted and she is forced to interact with people when she doesn’t want to. Unpleasant memories of Nick start to resurface and we realise their relationship was not as perfect as Abbie would like to believe.
There’s a lot about this book I didn’t like. The writing is good, and the characters are decent enough, but I was never sold on Abbie and Nick’s relationship. I don’t like either of them, and I think I’m supposed to, or at least Abbie, and to feel sorry for her and empathise with her situation. I can understand how horrible it must be to lose someone you love, especially when you don’t know what happened to them. Your imagination would run wild with all the terrible things they could be going through, and your life would stand still in hopes of them returning. But Nick just isn’t worth that wait. Nothing we’re told about him ever made me think ‘Yes, I would react in this way, I could not live without this person.’ Even in the beginning when we’re supposed to be shown his best side and how loving he is to her, he’s still pretty much a self-absorbed ass. And later the things he does to her…ugh. I couldn’t help thinking she was better off and I was hoping she had murdered him and buried him in the garden. No such luck.
But then there’s Abbie too. I found her almost completely unsympathetic, hiding out in her hovel of a flat. I found her almost gross at times too, for want of a better word. There’s just something really unappealing about her. She slightly redeems herself in the end, but by then it was too late, I didn’t care what happened to her.
It’s a very readable book, and nice in that you think you can tell where it’s going and then it takes a different turn. It doesn’t rely on the tried and tested formulas, which is something I suppose. I found Owen’s parts more enjoyable to read, and he seemed much more well drawn, though their stories don’t really mesh too well. I’m not sure I’d read any more of Sarah Jackman’s books after this.
I’ve read one Jacquelyn Mitchard book before, The Deep End of the Ocean, but that was after watching the film, and although I enjoyed it, I didn’t find it anything special. Cage of Stars was much better, and it had quite an emotional impact on me. At times while reading it I felt like I wanted to cry, not necessarily at the parts you would think. I just felt for the narrator and how she spoke and dealt with things was very touching.
Veronica (Ronnie) Swan lives in a Mormon community in Utah with her parents and two younger sisters. The book opens with the incident that changes all their lives: the murder of her sisters. Playing hide and seek one day, Ronnie is in the shed when all goes quiet. Coming out, she sees two little bodies on the ground, and their murderer sitting at her picnic table. Scott Early is suffering from schizophrenia and his sentence is too light for Ronnie. The first part of the book deals with the Swan family coming to terms, as much as they can, with what has happened, and how it almost tears them apart. There’s talk of their faith and religion, but in a way you can relate to. Ronnie takes on more family responsibilities as her mother and father disappear into their own worlds, and she is forced to grow up more quickly than she should. Later, when the pieces are being put back together, her parents decide to forgive Early, while Ronnie refuses. She makes the decision to find Scott Early and make sure he never hurts anyone else again.
It’s a sad book, and I also found myself very tense for a lot of it. Ronnie is telling the story from her present, and she alludes to something she did in regards to Scott Early, but we’re not given the full picture until the end. It’s definitely a page turner, I really wanted to find out what she would do, but also worried for her and what the consequences would be. Little things do give away that it probably won’t be as bad as expected, and the ending is somewhat of an anti-climax, but getting there is worth it. Ronnie’s story is both of revenge and forgiveness, but also a coming-of-age tale, and I think the sweetness overcomes the sadness in the end.
I guess a lot of people are going to be writing about this today. I woke up this morning to the news that Michael Jackson had died last night. I was shocked. I can’t really call myself a fan, although I think I was, when I was younger. Maybe because back then he was everywhere. I think we even saw Moonwalker at the cinema. Anyway, it’s very sad, especially as he has three children who just lost their dad. I know there has been so much said about his personal life, but you know, I don’t know what’s fact and what’s fiction, so I’d just rather remember this:
Man, that kid could sing.
Last night I went out with Jenna for something to eat and to see The Hangover. As she’d paid for the tickets I was paying for dinner. I gave the (rather rude) server my card to pay, and I could see over Jen’s shoulder that she was having some issues with it. It wouldn’t read. Annoying, since I didn’t have any cash, but I figured it was their reader’s problem, because, hey, there’s nothing wrong with my card right? And I’ve definitely got money in there…
So I go to the cashpoint to get some money. ‘We cannot process your transaction at this point.’ OK, not to worry, I’ve had problems with Lloyd’s before, the calm, rational side of my brain says. Different bank. Same problem. Right. Something’s wrong here. The rational side of my brain says there’s probably something wrong with the card itself, the strip or the chip. It’s not like I have no money.
We go and sit outside the cinema because we’re a bit early, and Jenna’s talking to me and all I’m doing in my head is ‘ARGH! Oh my god, someone is stealing my money out from under me as I sit here. Cannot concentrate. What is Jenna saying?’ The rational side lost. I had to call my bank. I know it’s probably ridiculous of me to worry like that but the one thing that can set off my panic button is the idea of being without money. I got through to the bank and went through the automated bit and it says ‘Your current balance is…’
Oh please oh please oh please…
‘…exactly what you thought it would be.’
Oh my god, I might die of relief. I could hardly press the right buttons on the phone I was so shaky. I then talked to a friendly chap who told me I had just tried to take out 30 quid (which is a bit too Big Brotherish for me) and yes, most likely there was a fault with the card as my account is perfectly fine. They’ll send me a new one. Yay! In about five days. Huh. And it’ll be a Visa Debit card. What the hell is that? What happened to Maestro? I have always had Maestro! Also, I am not a Visa girl, I’m a Mastercard girl (a Mastercard girl who doesn’t know her Mastercard PIN, but whatever).
After buying milk on the way home I have about a fiver to last me that five days. Tis fine, I will raid the petty cash at work and leave a bandit-like ‘IOU’.
The Hangover, however, was excellent and exactly what I needed. It’s brilliant! It’s the best time I’ve had at the cinema in ages and you should go and see it! I keep replaying my favourite line and making myself chuckle. Also, I want the baby! (Not the one they keep switching it for, cos you can totally tell they’re not the same baby, but the proper one, he’s amazing). I loved that it didn’t rely on cheesy, predictable jokes that you’ve heard a billion times before. Other than one part, I couldn’t tell where it was going at all. Much much fun and all the cast were fantastic.
20 Something Bloggers is doing a thing where if you post an entry from the first two months of your blog you can win Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. I’m not taking part in that, but I liked the idea of reposting an entry from my earlier days. It’s not that long ago, but I think it does sum up my mentality pretty well.
A Conversation Between Two Geeks first posted October 25, 2007:
I stopped by Max’s on my way home to pick up some more of my TV shows. Somehow, and I can’t remember why, but we got to talking about Star Trek. Now, back in the day, I was a huge Star Trek fan. Well, I still am I guess, but I don’t watch it like I used to, mainly because nothing good has come out of the franchise for a while. So, after a short conversation and quoting Picard saying ‘Engage’ etc, and me searching my ever addled brain for the name of Worf’s weapon of choice (a Bat’leth, in case you wondered), and Max asking if I know any Klingon (I don’t), Max decided to tell me a joke. Oh, and note, Max has never watched Star Trek.
M: Ok, so, Picard has got a sewing machine and it’s broken…
C: Why doesn’t he use the Replicator?
M: What’s a Replicator?
C: It can make anything you need.
M: He’s sewing
C: But if Picard needed a garment he would just go to the Replicator and say ‘Hey, Replicator, I would like a jumper’, and he would have it.
M: The Replicators are broken. So he takes the sewing machine to this guy…
C: Why wouldn’t he take it to Data?
M: Who’s Data?
C: A character on the show!
M: Data can’t fix it.
C: Data can fix anything! He’s an Android, he has a computer for a brain!
M: Big Sigh.
C: Now, if Picard was on another planet say, without Replicators or Data, then I could understand the need for a sewing machine. If you’d just put a little back story in, this joke would work much better.
M: Fine. He’s on Earth…
C: Not Earth. Earth in Star Trek is very advanced.
M: Fine! He’s in Wombwell*, they’re still very backwards there.
C: Silence.
M: He takes the sewing machine to a man to get it fixed. The man says ‘What do you want me to do with it?’ And Picard says, ‘Make it sew’.**
C: You know, that’s not a very good joke.
*My hometown
**Picard’s well known catchphrase is ‘Make it so’, in case you don’t know, often followed by ‘Number 1′, cos he was talking to Riker.
I officially give up.
Initially I was ‘just taking a break’ when I put the classic down and picked up another book. I had every intention (no, I swear!) of going back to Catch-22 and having another go. Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood, maybe it needed more attention than my brain could give right now, a change is as good as a rest and all that.
Yeah…no. I’m not going back, and you can’t make me. I know, I’m a Philistine, string me up and beat me. I’m sure there are people out there (all five of you going by my stats) shaking your heads in disgust, unable to believe I haven’t relished this masterpiece. Look, you can keep it, it’s all yours, love it as much as you like. But I didn’t like it. And I could have struggled on for every page hating every goddamn word, not wanting to pick up the book, ignoring it, rereading pages after I realised I hadn’t taken a single word in, or I could admit defeat and be happy. It’s unusual for me to give up on a book, I generally keep going no matter how bad I think it is, because I like to finish what I’ve started. I think this book has changed that philosophy for me now. I just didn’t want to.
I guess I’ve missed the point, but I found the writing style very confusing, what with the billion new characters introduced every second line. And the writing itself was so heavy for me, I just felt weighed down and headachy with every word I read. Sure, there are touches of humour, but it all became so repetitive after a few pages even that couldn’t save it.
But the main thing, which is a really big problem: I just did not care. I didn’t care about anyone, not Yossarian or the umpteen other characters whose names I can’t remember who all seemed to speak the same and have the same personalities so they have become one tedious person in my mind. Nothing about any of it made me want to pick it up again once I’d put it down, and I missed that feeling, I missed the ‘Just one more chapter’ lie I tell myself as the clock ticks into the early hours and I don’t care that I have work in the morning.
Because surely, the whole point of reading is enjoyment? That’s why I read, because I enjoy it. I love it. I love getting lost in a good story and wrapped up in people’s lives, and all I could think of was the books I wasn’t reading, because I was forcing myself to read this instead. And why? What for? So I could join the ranks and say it’s the best thing since sliced bread? That it’s life changing? I’m afraid I can’t. And I’m really very ok with that.
• I am having the hardest time choosing some new glasses. I am desperate. My old frames are so old, I think I’ve had them ten years, and the lenses keep popping out. But I just can’t decide on any. Ugh, this is why I’ve had my others for so long, picking new ones is just too hard.
• On the bus last night coming home a woman got on with her two children. The youngest one (she was maybe 3) let out a scream as she got on and threw herself on the seat. I thought she was having a tantrum, and then I smelled smoke, which seemed weird. The little girl gestured to her back and her mum lifted her shirt. There was ash there and a burn mark. Someone had thrown away a cigarette and it must have got caught in her shirt and burned her as she got on the bus, hence the scream of pain. The mum went barmy at a man she believed had thrown the cigarette. He just sat there saying ‘No no no,’ and she went on and on and then at one point I swear he said something like ‘I didn’t mean to’ or similar. It seemed to me he had done it as he had said he’d been smoking before he got on the bus, but maybe he just looked uncomfortable because he was being screamed at? The mum went to the driver (not sure what he was going to do?) but the guy got off the bus. The girl was ok but did have a welt on her back. So smokers, please be really careful with your cigarettes!
• I am very fed up of having to fend off ‘helpful’ people when I go into my bank to pay in a cheque. In the one nearest to work the cashiers are downstairs, and a while ago they started shutting the doors and stationing people in front of them to ‘welcome’ you and ‘help’. It’s really frustrating every time you go in to have to try and get by them. I’m not here to solve the Riddle of the Sphinx, just let me by! And then I feel rude, but look, I know you can help me pay it in up here, but I’m old fashioned, I want to give it to a person, I don’t care if I have to queue, just leave me alone!
• I wouldn’t have to do this if my flatmate would just do online banking.
• I am currently reading Catch-22 and really not enjoying it at all. I feel bad, I know it’s a classic but it’s just all over the place, I don’t care about anyone, I can hardly understand what’s going on, and I have lots of other books I’d really rather be reading, since my lovely friend got me books for my birthday. I will stick with it a bit longer and see how I go. I hate giving up on books, but life just seems too bloody short for this.
• I have Superstar by The Carpenters stuck in my head.
My library finally got this book in after I reserved it months ago. Not an exaggeration either. I am hoping I don’t have to wait as long for the next one, because I really do enjoy these and they’re such quick reads. I know they’re not necessarily ‘great’ literature, but seeing as I’m currently reading a ‘great’ book and finding it bloody hard going, that’s not a bad thing from my point of view.
In Club Dead, Bill leaves Sookie to work on a secret project for another vampire. Soon after, he is kidnapped and Sookie learns he has betrayed her. Hurt and confused but still wanting to rescue Bill, Sookie agrees to go to Jackson, Mississippi to help look for him. She’ll use her telepathy to listen in on the humans who frequen ta notorious vampire hangout, Josephine’s (aka Club Dead). She is aided by a werewolf, Alcide Herveaux, and as usual gets caught up in all sorts of shenanigans, from disposing of dead bodies found in cupboards, to getting staked, to pretending to be Alcide’s girlfriend to make his ex jealous.
I liked Alcide. He was lovely. I also really like Eric. He’s funny, with a proper cutting wit, and he’s having issues with his desire for Sookie. You know who I don’t like? Bill. That’s a bit of a problem seeing as he’s the main love interest, but I just could not give any less of a damn about that man. He’s not fun, or interesting, and he seems to spend most of his time hurting Sookie. I think I liked this book more because Bill wasn’t in it that much, instead we got to spend more time with Eric and get to know Alcide. Much more enjoyable. I am hoping this is the end of the Sookie/Bill romance, but we will see.
I’m not quite sure where the books are headed, or if they’re actually headed anywhere really, if there is some sort of conclusion to be reached, but I am happy to go along for the ride. I know there are six (?) more books for me to read, and I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next in Sookie’s life.
“Puberty had been unkind. Whereas it had come in the night and left the other boys with chiselled, stubbly chins and deep masculine voices, I’d been left with a huge pair of knockers and the voice of a pensioner.”
Not to be confused with that self help stop you smoking dude, this is the autobiography of the comedian Alan Carr. My friend let me borrow it saying it was really funny, but I wasn’t that bothered. It was only when I ran out of books I picked it up. Funny? Why yes, it is. I have laughed to myself a fair bit while sitting on the bus heading to work of a morning. I’m sure I was one of those annoying people other passengers look at in disgust for making their presence known. Sorry folks, but you read this and if you don’t laugh you’re obviously dead inside.
Obviously this tells the story of Alan’s life. As the son of a well known football manager he was expected to be an athlete. If you’ve ever seen him on the telly, you’ll know how funny that is. He goes into detail about how rubbish he was at sports, and how he felt a bit of a disappointment to his dad. There are anecdotes from his life at school, the unforgiving puberty and the realisation he was gay, and on through university, doing shit jobs and finding his feet as a comedian.
I think what I liked most about this is how relatable it is. Sure, Russell Brand’s book was funny, but not in this way. I can’t really relate to living on someone’s floor off my head on drugs. But I have been lost after the end of university, and I have done my fair share of shit jobs in call centres, travelled about a bit trying to find some point to my life, and lived in some doss holes (like the one where I made pasta one night and poured it onto my plate to find a maggot wriggling smugly in it. I never told you about that, did I Mum? No. Well, I can laugh about it now eh?).
It’s just good fun this book. An easy, enjoyable read. Me and Alan, we’d get on well I think.
I have nothing of real interest to post about, other than slight grumbles about flatmates and why is it that they can never EVER take the bloody recycling out…but we’re not going there. Instead, have something nice and non-ranty.
Look! Look what Nin made me! (Nin would be my grandmother by the way.)
Isn’t she brilliant?! It is so snug and lovely and warm. OK, so not getting that much use since it’s summer and we’ve even had sun in England. But still, when it gets cooler at night it’s nice to wrap up in. I like to think that one day I’ll be able to knit like that, but so far my attempts are proving me wrong. God, I really am rubbish at it. Stupid arm hole shaping and picking up stitches. I keep going though. I will not give up! Or I’ll just pretend I’m awesome and pass off Nin’s stuff as my own.
