November was the month I finally accepted that I am no superwoman.
All my good intentions to catch up on my backlog of reviews remained just that — good intentions. Instead of making inroads, the backlog is actually getting longer each month. And I really can’t see that changing in the next few weeks unless someone magically stretches each day and gives me a few extra hours.
When I should could have been writing blogs and reading posts from the scores of bloggers I follow, I had my foot to the pedal on my sewing machine. Quilting has consumed my spare time in a way I never could have imagined just two years ago when I joined a charity called Project Linus that donates quilts to youngsters who are having a hard time.
It’s hugely rewarding but some of the requests we get are time sensitive — a child about to undergo extensive heart surgery, another youngster being moved out of an abusive home. It’s not a case of “drop everything else” but I hate the thought of a child losing out on a moment of comfort if I can help it. Hence why my posts have been rather sporadic this last few months and why I’ve not been as active in commenting on all the wonderful people I’ve “met” through blogging.
Somehow or other I need to find a way to do both next year… Don’t ask me how because I have no idea yet!
So in lieu of review posts, here’s a snapshot of life in the Booker Talk corner of the world in November.
Favourite Book of the Month
Oh dear, I can’t just pick one. So I’m going for two very different works of fiction.
Anything is Possible by Elizabeth Strout. My love of Strout’s work continued unabated with this wonderful book. It’s a collection of stories which are all largely set in the (fictional) rural backwater of Amgash, Illinois. This setting gives the book a cohesion that I find lacking in most short story collections. Though each is self-contained there are links to characters in earlier novels — most particularly to Lucy Barton, a girl from a poor Amgash family who became a best selling author in New York. I love the way Strout combines small, inconsequential details of everyday life with broader issues about dreams unfulfilled and relationships broken.
Kate Atkinson’s latest novel, Death at the Sign of the Rook, is a hoot from start to finish. It marks the return of her private investigator Jackson Brodie with a plot that pays homage to the plotting skills of Agatha Christie. Brodie is called in to help solve a case of a stolen painting and somehow ends up in a tumbly-down country house in the middle of a snow storm. There are coincidences galore and plenty of eccentric characters (I particularly liked the vicar who has to mime his services because he’s lost his voice). None of it is meant to be taken seriously.
The Ones That Got Away
Two disappointing experiences this month, both with authors whose previous works I’ve enjoyed. The Virgin Blue was Tracy Chevalier’s first novel and is not a patch on her later work. I did manage to scramble some thoughts together to explain why it didn’t hit the mark for me. I’m going to be curious what other members of our book club thought of this one.
At least I finished the Chevalier which was not the case with And So I Roar by Abi Daré. This is a sequel to The Girl With the Louding Voice which was terrific so I’d been waiting with great anticipation for the newest book to become available in the library. Sadly, I got to about page 100 and decided that was enough. Though I was interested in what happens to the central character of Adunni when she’s forced back to her village and accused of murder, there was too much in the novel about her westernised friend Miss Tia.
The Newcomers
Most of the books I’ve read lately have come from the library or my own bookshelves. There was only one addition to my TBR — Close to Home by Michael Magee which begins with an act of violence and turns into a portrait of working-class Ireland during the Troubles.
I found a pristine copy of this novel in the bookshop of the National Trust where I volunteer and it was only £1 so I couldn’t resist. When I opened it back home I found that the previous owner had used a till receipt as a bookmark. So reassuring to know that I’m not the only reader who uses whatever is close to hand in lieu of a proper bookmark. The receipt is for a meal at Birmingham airport so now I’m imagining the person bought the book to read on their trip. There are no crease marks on the spine so either the person didn’t enjoy the book enough to finish it or they are a very careful reader.
That’s it for this month. By the time I get around to writing the next update, we’ll be in 2025. Sounds scary doesn’t it??
We're all friends here. Come and join the conversation