If I Stay Review (Spoiler free!)

I have so many books in my bag at the moment, this GIF pretty much sums up my life! But the one I finished most recently is here for a review - so let's get on with it!

If I Stay - Gayle Forman

Just listen, Adam says with a voice that sounds like shrapnel.
I open my eyes wide now.I sit up as much as I can.And I listen.
Stay, he says.
Choices. Seventeen-year-old Mia is faced with some tough ones: Stay true to her first love—music—even if it means losing her boyfriend and leaving her family and friends behind?
Then one February morning Mia goes for a drive with her family, and in an instant, everything changes. Suddenly, all the choices are gone, except one. And it's the only one that matters.
If I Stay is a heartachingly beautiful book about the power of love, the true meaning of family, and the choices we all make

 - Goodreads Synopsis

Let's just start of with this: If I Stay was not the Augustus Waters of books that I had thought it might be. I wasn't exactly satisfied by the ending - perhaps because the novel is largely focused on the past and when we're suddenly catapulted into the present I was still trying to get to know Mia as a character.

That's not to say that it wasn't an enjoyable read, though, especially if you don't mind a bit of gloom in your books. Forman creates an incredibly empathetic narrative, although I personally felt that the hints of humour which peppered the novel were not quite enough to balance out the grief (which was more like shoving a chili pepper into your sandwich, if we're going to carry on the meal-time metaphor).

Had I read this book when I was 16, I think I would have been smitten with it - completely and without a doubt. 20 year old me, unfortunately, found it hard to connect to a character who was introduced and isolated so quickly. This is just my personal opinion, though! Overall, the book was very readable in its language and structure, as well as providing a great new take on the coming of age story, and the consequences of our our choices.

Fans of the Young Adult genre and books like The Lovely Bones and My Sister's Keeper - I recommend this to you particularly.

This novel gets 3 stars from me!



So, until next time: keep reading, and keep BakingBookies!

The Name of the Wind Review (Spoiler free!)

Hey there, internet! Belle says it best - I just finished The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss.

First off, let me just say that I've been looking for a high fantasy novel to love the way I love this novel my whole life.

Gosh.

TNotW, where have you been all this time? I guess I've been pretty unfortunate with this kind of story in the past; you know, page upon page of wordy description, language so elevated that you need a stepladder to even begin to understand...

Luckily for me, this wasn't one of those books! Rothfuss has this really wonderful skill of using perfectly understandable and readable language to create a world just as vivid as any other high fantasy novel I've ever read. Only, this time, the pages seemed to fly by rather more effortlessly.

I will admit that the beginning was a tad bit slower than I would have liked, but it soon gives way to the full force of Rothfuss' story-telling ability. The further into the book I got, the more I understood the need for the opening to be such a different pace to the rest. This, I think, is another of Rothfuss' great talents: foreshadowing and recalling pieces of information placed so subtly that you probably ought to read the whole thing again. And again.

Another factor which really cemented my high opinion of this book was the balancing of the elements of fantasy and romance. Really, when I'm searching for a good fantasy novel I'm not really thinking about romance particularly, and I know quite a few people who might hesitate to read something billed as 'fantasy romance'. TNotW surprised me by inadvertently not-quite-sort-of falling into this category. Though, for the love of good books, don't let this stop you reading it. Whilst romance does play a part in the narrative of the story, it is by no means the driving force of the novel. It's natural. It has its own place in the writing.

I think saying any more about this might begin to constitute spoilers, so I'll leave it at this: The Name of the Wind is, in my humble opinion, a wonderfully written novel which deserves to be read by as many people as possible. I especially recommend it to fans of the fantasy genre in general, fans of urban fantasy, Harry Potter fans, etc. People who like adventure, school stories, coming of age, magic, music - you name it, we've got it.

TNotW gets five stars from me!



Happy reading!

A Sneaky Peak

What you've all been waiting for! Or at least, what I've been waiting to feel ready to post...

A sneaky peak at the new fantasy novel I'm working on - happy reading!

Of The Night Sky

Tamrin had lived a fairly normal life. She had a mother, and a father, and a small horde of brothers and sisters. They had lived frugally, but happily. 

At least, Tamrin thought they had been happy.

One day, figures in hooded cloaks of night sky had come to the village; they had touched her auburn hair and gazed keenly into her wide, blue eyes.

Tamrin could not see their faces.

The figures of the night sky paid her parents - Tamrin was not sure how much - with a shimmering sack that looked heavy with gold. And they led Tamrin away, too stunned to protest. That, it turned out, was the end of her 8 years of normal life.

***

At 18 years of age, Tamrin of the Night Sky stood at five feet and four inches, auburn hair flying behind her as she ran. This escape would be her most difficult yet; running from mortals was easy - she had only to wait until nightfall, when she would pull her cloak tight around her and disappear into the night.

Not just disappear, she reminded herself, but become a part of it.

Running from other Nighters, however, was turning out to be a lot harder. Tamrin burst round the corner, and cursed loudly.

"Light of Stars, Alveron, leave me alone!" She wished her anger would blaze gloriously, but her hair was a tangled mess from catching in the wind as she ran.

"Maybe if you stopped avoiding me, we wouldn't have to keep meeting like this," he retorted hotly, his dark hair standing on end like a cat raising its hackles. "Dark corners, away from everyone else - why are you avoiding me, Tamrin?" 

He took a step closer to her and she scowled. "As if you don't know." She could see Alveron suppressing his trademark cheshire grin. He took another step, and she felt the wall behind her.

"Do I?"

"Yes!" Tamrin stomped her foot. She wasn't proud of it; for one thing, she looked like a toddler having a tantrum. For another, magic in the halls was expressly forbidden.

"I will not say it again, Alveron: I am not in love with you. I never was. I never will be!"

Alveron's legs snapped together and he collapsed to the floor, completely rigid. Tamrin knew her magic had hit the mark, and as she sprinted away, she could hear Alveron shouting.

"Malfeasance! Malfeasance!"

It hadn't been malfeasance, Tamrin thought, but it was a serious accusation and she would definitely be in trouble - that was, if she didn't face an inquiry.

This Is A Test

Welcome to my little corner of the internet, readers! Here's an excerpt of a piece that reflects the way I feel about my writing and, by extension, all of you - happy reading!

Wrapped Up In Books

Books belong to their readers. I have always believed that. Not in the literal way – of course books belong to the people who buy them – in the figurative sense, the abstract. When you let your words go into the world of publication they don’t belong to you alone anymore, they belong to everyone who reads them. And there’s nothing you can do about it; those words that you once so carefully cultivated, built into characters and worlds and plots and nurtured into life are subject to the whims of those who read them. The most you can hope for, I suppose, is fans. Respectful fans. People who love your words so much – as much as you, maybe more – that they want them to live on past the final pages of the book. And who are you to take that away from them? You might think you’re still the god of the world you created but actually you stopped being the god of that world the minute you let it out of your hands.

And that’s okay.

***

Generally, Anna knew it was time to go to bed when she glanced up from her writing and found that her room was dark, illuminated only by the pale glow of her laptop screen. Tonight shouldn’t have been any different, but instead of closing the laptop and at least trying to get some sleep she carried on. She swept a few stray strands of auburn hair back into the bun tied messily on the back of her head. Why was it that inspiration always hit hardest after 2AM? And why did this particular 2AM have to be the night before – or maybe it was the morning of – the first day of her new job. Anna stifled a yawn; she might have felt passionate about the writing she was doing, but she definitely was not passionate about the intense tiredness that accompanied it.

Anna leant back against the headboard of her bed, digging her fingers into the mattress. It was like having an incredibly wordy waterfall constantly raging in her head lately; words poured out of her at all times of the day. The worst was during conversations – the writing seeped in through the smallest cracks and dragged the subject away in its rapid current. No one, not even writers, wanted to talk about writing all the time. Anna wondered if you could get sick of your own words – your own voice, even. 

It was becoming an increasingly conceivable possibility. 

Perhaps she would take a vow of silence. But then would the words just find another way out? Maybe she would explode. She wrinkled her nose; it was definitely time to sleep. She closed her laptop resignedly, her fingers still itching for the feel of the keys under them. It was completely and totally dark without the light of the screen to illuminate the room, and soon enough Anna felt the pull of sleep.

It seemed that only moments had passed since closing her eyes when Anna was jolted awake by her alarm. It must have been later than she had thought when she fell asleep – it felt as though she had barely slept for five minutes.