Tag Archives: book-review

Two Unputdownable Books

I don’t know about you, but as time goes by it’s increasingly seldom that I find books that are genuinely hard to put down. In fact, it seems more and more common for me to discard a book if it hasn’t grabbed me by at least page one hundred. So imagine my glee when I find myself reading two books that are unputdownable. Don’t judge me. The fact is, I usually “read” two books at a time. The reason read is in quotes is that one of the books will be either a physical book or an eBook, and the other an audio book. When I sit down to read, I’ll generally pick up the print book. When I’m walking, cleaning, or whatever, I’ll often listen to the audio book. The psychologist in me finds it fascinating that I never get confused about what happened or who appears in which book. Perhaps it’s the fact that the input modalities are different. But I digress.

The first of the two books that I’m particularly enjoying at the moment is Labyrinth of the Spirits by Carlos Ruiz Zafron, the fourth and final book in the Cemetery of Forgotten Books series. It has been a long, long time since I’ve encountered an author whose prose has this level of beauty, whose characters are so well developed, and whose stories so relentlessly draw you in. The books are part literary novel and part mystery with, possibly, a touch of fantasy. It depends on how you interpret them. For me, the first and fourth books are the strongest, both equally compelling. I’ve recently finished my third reading of the first, The Shadow of the Wind, and I’m on my second reading of the fourth. This time around, I’ve read the books in order. The second and third books, The Angels Game and The Prisoner of Heaven, are weaker in my opinion, especially Prisoner, though that book, at the very least, sets things up for the fourth. Angels is very good, but confusing, as I wasn’t sure at times whether the story was unfolding as written or whether the protagonist was simply caught up in a story of his own creation.

The second book I’m loving right now is The Evolutionary Void, the third in the Void trilogy by Peter F. Hamilton. Here’s the thing: when you read a trilogy by Hamilton, you need to realize that the story is going to be big. Really big. And there are many, many characters and locales, and many subplots that will, miraculously it seems, come together at the end. The Void books represent the second trilogy of Hamilton’s that I’ve read. In both cases, I wondered as I read the first book whether the author wasn’t just pot boiling for the sake of producing a thick book. In both cases, I was dead wrong. The first book, as it should, introduces characters and situations and conflicts and get things going. Things start looking pretty bleak in the second book, and in the third, well, I’m not finished Evolutionary yet but I have hopes for a satisfying conclusion.

I hope that’s enough to entice you to check out these books. I’d make this a longer post, but I really need to get back to my reading …

Being There

This Summer Will Be Different is a novel by Canadian writer Carley Fortune. More specifically, it’s a romance novel.

As you might know, romance isn’t my go-to genre. I explored romance a bit when I was trying to find myself as a writer. You see, my most popular fan fiction stories were the “mature” ones, the ones where amorous things happened. Was I a budding romance writer? After sampling a few novels in the genre, I decided that no, I wasn’t.

So, with that in mind, why did I choose to read this novel? And why did I enjoy it so much?

It started with an article on the CBC’s website about the author. Specifically, it was about Fortune’s use of setting to put the reader there, so that you see, smell, and feel the emotional reaction of the protagonist to the setting.

This interested me greatly. Even though my current project is a thriller, surely the thrill would only improve to the extent that the reader feels part of the action. If they are there.

The setting for This Summer Will Be Different is alternately Toronto and Prince Edward Island over the course of several years. When we meet PEI for the first time, it is described thusly:

Water glittering like sapphires beneath rust-coloured cliffs. Seaweed lying in knotty nests on a strip of sandy shoreline. A wood-sided restaurant. Stacks of lobster traps. A man in hip waders.

Sea brine filled my nose and the putt-putt of a fishing boat my ears. A salt-kissed breeze sent the skirt of my dress flapping against my calves, and I smiled.

This was protagonist Lucy Ashby’s first impression of PEI, and I think we’ve got pretty much all the senses accounted for. More importantly, you can imagine yourself right there with her. In the story, PEI is more than a place. It’s almost another character, one with the power to calm and heal.

In Toronto, Lucy, the owner of a flower shop, is always working, always micromanaging, always worrying. This contrasts to her time in PEI, where she can stop to breathe in the smells of the ocean and the local flowers and walk barefoot in the red-tinged sand. The contrast between the two settings is very effective.

As for the actual characters in Summer, I found them believable, fleshed-out, and three-dimensional. My only quibble is with Lucy’s love-to-be, who’s maybe too perfect, with his long, wavy hair, blue eyes, muscular, cleft in chin, facial stubble, and did he have washboard abs? Probably.

With Felix and Lucy, it was definitely a case of lust at first sight. But what about later? Their relationship has ups and downs and it feels believable. They both grow and change, but Lucy has the most growing up to do. In particular, she needs to work out how to let go, how to trust, and how to understand what she really wants from life.

A romance novel needs to be quite sensual, not just in terms of sex, but in the way it fills the senses. The smell of a place. The taste of the food. The sound of the surroundings. The pace is more leisurely and there’s space for a lot of description and internal monologue. As I mentioned, my current project is a thriller, a novel called A Familiar Voice. For a thriller, the pace is faster, and too much lingering, too much descriptive prose runs the risk of the reader losing interest.

It’s going to be interesting to find the right balance. I do want the novel to have a palpable sense of place, just as long as I can keep everyone interested in reading to find out what happens next.

I’m glad I read This Summer Will Be Different and encourage other writers to leave your comfort zone and treat your senses with this novel.