Tears, laughter and Insomnia
My year in books.
I have always been a reader. I cannot remember learning to read, I can only remember the piles of books that have surrounded me from the very beginning. I remember getting a tin of words to learn from school, and refusing to look at them, on the grounds that they were not stories. I love to read stories.
I read continually, I packed books in my hospital bag both times I gave birth. I read as a student, stumbling in a little drunk at three in the morning and still losing myself for twenty minutes or so as I lay in bed, mascara smeared across my pillowcase, waiting for the room to stop spinning.
There will never be no room in my life for reading. Just the thought makes me sad.
This year I had a bash at writing a book of my own. I had tried numerous times before but would frequently lose my way, stop, find a window to gaze out of and the laptop or notebook would begin to gather dust again.
This year was different, it flew out of my fingers at a rate of knots. Beginning on New Years Day, I had finished my first draft by Mothers Day. I loved it. But I couldn’t have done it without reading. Without reading, you can’t be a decent writer.
2016 has been a good reading year for me and I just wanted to share my favourite ten books that I have read this year, for the first time. They are not all new books, but they are the best ten that I have discovered and loved this year. There were many more that I loved, but sadly I think even ten may be pushing it for a blog.
The ten books are in no particular order (that would be beyond me) and five will be in this post, and the other five will follow in another post. Otherwise this may be longer than some of the books featured, and nobody wants that.
On writing – Stephen King
For Christmas, my husband bought me this book. One that I had meant to read for years. The ideas for my novel were already quietly bubbling below the surface, but this book turned the heat up and filled me with a passion, direction and fire for my story that I would never have expected. I started it on Boxing day, finished it on the 30th of December and on New Years Eve, in between cross country trips to visit friends and family, I wrote down what became the first 800 words of my novel. I had my three main characters, my format and my story. For the next three months I wrote at least a thousand words every day.
If you want to write, read it. If you have no desire to be a writer, read it. His story is fantastic, his advice clear and pomp free. Read a lot, write a lot. He made the business of writing remarkably simple, although he did make my day job, which involves teaching children about adverbs, rather more conflicted.
“Being swept away by a combination of great story and great writing – of being flattened, in fact – is part of every writer’s necessary formation. You cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it had been done to you.” Stephen King
The following books have all swept me away.
All the light we cannot see – Anthony Doerr
2016 was the year I finally joined a book club. This was the second book we read as a group and my favourite (new) book that we read together. It is the story of a young Parisian girl, Marie-Laure, and a German orphan, Werner, and spans eight decades – but is mostly set during World War Two.
It is an epic tale, written with such style, elegance and a lightness of touch which left me occasionally wanting to burst into spontaneous applause. The story was utterly consuming and the themes of light, hope and goodness against the odds were so beautifully realised without veering anywhere close to sentimentality, although I personally adore a generous amount of sentiment more often than not.
If you are drowning in hopelessness at this increasingly horrendous year, you could do a lot worse, these dark evenings, than turn off your phone, light a few candles, grab a blanket and get caught up in this story of love, the complexities of humanity and the small acts of bravery that really matter. ‘All the light we cannot see’ is an excellent anecdote to hatred and despair.
I may need to reread…
I Could Ride all Day in My Cool Blue Train – Peter Hobbs
I adore short stories and was ecstatic to come across this collection in our very lovely local bookshop, in the second-hand section. Short stories are so over-looked, but a great short story anthology is a wonderful thing to possess. This selection by Peter Hobbs was utterly fabulous and caused me the most reading-based insomnia of the year.
They were not stories that you wanted to race through. They didn’t keep me awake because I was desperate to read just one more page. It is the first, and so far, only, book I have read where the beauty of the words, the rhythm of the sentences and the feel of them in my mouth, kept me awake. Let me share with you two of my favourite sentences ever written.
“I live in a town full of rain, a liquid city. We’ve got water up to our gills and I’m having trouble breathing.”
Those two sentences, and the title of the anthology, kept me awake in bed, distracted at the dinner table and quietly muttering to myself around the supermarket. I have never read prose that sounded as much like rap or performance poetry, whilst somehow telling varied, interesting and totally readable stories.
If you never read short stories, give them a go. If this one sounds a bit much then try Joanne Harris ‘Jigs and Reels’ or one of my all-time favourite books ever by a very famous children’s writer, but more on that book another time. Let yourself be surprised by Peter Hobbs, this book was joyous, smart and deserves a bigger audience.
The Poisonwood Bible – Barbara Kingsolver
2016 was also the year that I fell in love again. I started a new relationship and I think it will be for life. I fell in love with radio 4. One of my favourite things on radio 4 is ‘A good read’, listening to that makes tedious dinner prep a secretive pleasure. I discovered this book on that programme and decided to seek it out.
I was intrigued by it, as each chapter was written by one of four sisters, with a few sections written by the Mother. My novel, which had been fully completed by this stage, was written in a similar way, three sisters, a Mum and a Dad. The guests on radio 4 were unanimous in their praise for how distinct each voice was, something I had carefully considered when doing my first draft.
The voice is what I found truly exceptional about this book – the voices, really. From the first line, I could distinctly hear this deep, frail, southern accent, reaching out to me from the pages. The voice was so strong that at times I felt as if I was listening to an audio book, rather than reading it myself. My pace slowed with the Mother and raced with Leah, I meandered with Ruth May and was aloof with Rachel.
By the time I had finished I was more than ready to go back and reread and redraft little parts of my own novel, more acutely aware of the places where my characters voice slipped and stuttered. Reading great books makes you a better writer; it can also turn you into a sobbing, insecure wreck, but it’s worth it.
This would be a great book to read at any time, but if you are off somewhere hot and sunny, this would be a great book to slip in your suitcase for a slightly meatier holiday read. Also, if you are unfortunate enough to dread family gatherings over the festive period, try reading this, I guarantee you’ll appreciate your family more!
Reasons to stay alive – Matt Haig
Halfway through my books of the year, and my final one for this post, is this little treasure. A short non-fiction account of the author’s (Matt Haig) depression, breakdown and subsequent success as he learned how to live, and how to live well.
I thought for a long time that this book wasn’t for me, I have never suffered depression, although I do undoubtedly have a very thin skin and am the definition of a sensitive soul whose emotions veer wildly from despair to joy, and everything in between, regularly. But I eventually picked it up and was delighted that I did.
Matt Haig writes so beautifully, honestly and hopefully about his darkest times that I really think everyone should read this book, whether you have suffered with any mental illness or not. We are all human and this is a book about more than just depression, it is about the essence of humanity, who we are, how we all suffer and how we all can thrive.
I felt that somehow, he had climbed inside my soul and written down so much of what lies within me, so much that I often keep hidden and his writing helped me see the worth, strength and beauty of my flawed personality. Nearly every page is dog eared and marked in some way, I could happily quote the entire book, but then you wouldn’t need to go out and buy it – and you really must go out and buy it.
I will leave you with one of my favourite sections, that exemplarises why I love books, art, music and people.
“People place so much value on thought, but feeling is as essential. I want to read books that make me laugh and cry and fear and hope and punch the air in triumph. I want a book to hug me or grab me by the scruff of my neck. I don’t even mind if it punches me in the gut. Because we are here to feel.
I want life.
I want to read it and write it and feel it and live it.
I want, for as much of the time as possible in this blink-of-an-eye existence we have, to feel all that can be felt.”
That is what I love about books, and about life. Come back for my next five gut-punching and beautiful reads soon.
internalkindness 