The Ocean at the End of the Lane, book review. (Neil Gaiman)

During a visit to the area where he grew up (for a family funeral), our narrator is drawn back to his old stomping ground where he re-experiences a childhood summer living up the lane from Hempstock Farm, Old Mrs Hempstock, her daughter and her granddaughter, Lettie.
The year he met Lettie, Ursula Monkton, and death for the first time, was full of the weird and wonderful, scary and sad, from the opal miner who had recently taken lodgings in his bedroom (meaning he had to share with his sister), killing himself in his parent's car, to a spirit giving out money (which seemed to be the only thing that made humans happy), to Old Mrs Hempstock and her daughter, cooking the most amazing pies, breads, soups and cakes which were so well described I could almost smell them on the page.
Lettie (who appears to be just a few years older than our narrator but has lived a thousand years many times over, has a pond in her garden that she calls an ocean [which, with the assistance of Old Mrs Hempstock, manages to transfer to a bucket later in the story], as well as curling cat tails protruding from the grass which, if you give them a firm enough tug, pull up kittens), takes our narrator with her when she goes to bind the money giving spirit and send it back to its own realm.
When our narrator gets scared and lets go of Lettie’s hand whilst she’s binding the spirit, a worm lodges itself into his foot and, although he manages to get most of it out (in a superbly written but rather gruesome episode in the bathroom), just enough remains, which forms a connection between realms which allows the spirit (Ursula Monkton) to stay, with dire consequences.
As Ursula gets bolder and more powerful, Old Mrs Hempstock has to summons the hunger birds. As the rain lashes and the winds howl, the hunger birds devour the spirit and you think everything is rebalanced but the birds need the tiny piece of worm (Ursula) that’s still inside our narrator, which has worked its way from his foot to his heart. In spite of Old Mrs Hempstock's attempts to banishes the hunger birds, she only succeeds after Lettie makes the ultimate sacrifice to save her friend and so, with deep sadness, she is laid to rest for a while in the ocean - which is back in its rightful place - with the promise that she may return one day.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a mix of fear, loss, loneliness and bitter memories of a time gone by, which Gaiman manages to weave into a tale that can be enjoyed by all. There's fantasy, magic, good and evil, all expertly mixed with a reality that bend the rules, and it’s a rollercoaster of love, wonder and amazement with a cold chill running down your neck, accompanied by the most beautifully threatening illustrations and, like the best books, takes you on a journey that is difficult to forget.
Four Stars for, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, then; the book that has hopefully, got me blogging again.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.

Mad Mike's Writing blog, book of the year 2024

Welcome friends, book bloggers and avid readers alike, to my annual book of the year post. As usual, this post is not about books written or published in 2024, it’s about books I have read. I won’t bore you with a full list, for that you can look me up on Goodreads so, without further ado,

In at number five is: The Familiars by Stacey Halls

Great characters, superb writing and centred around an episode in history I knew nothing about - The Pendle Witch trials of 1612 - The Familiars is a fast-paced historical thriller which drips with secrets, intrigue, fear, hypocrisy and witches, with a constant inference of injustice, in spite the tenacious efforts of or heroine, seventeen-year-old mother to be, Fleetwood Shuttleworth.

The power struggle betwixt Fleetwood and her philandering husband and the pace and tone of the writing reminded me very much of the late great de Maurier and Frenchman’s Creek, which is why this superb debut novel earnt itself four stars and a place in my top five.

 

In fourth place: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Magical.

Scary, too, but magical.

Mixed with fear, lose, loneliness and bitter memories of a time gone by, Gaiman manages to weave a tail that can be enjoyed by everybody. There’s fantasy, magic, good and evil, all expertly mixed with a reality that still seems to bend the rules and it’s a rollercoaster of emotion, from love, wonder and amazement to that cold chill that sometimes runs down the back of your neck. All told, this book is stunning – I read the illustrated edition which wowed me visually, too – and like all good books, takes you on a journey that is difficult to forget. Four stars.

 

In bronze medal position, then: Mosquito by Rowland White

WWII has begun, but in a remote village in Hertfordshire a self-taught aviator, Geoffrey de Havilland, has a plan. He has what he believes the Royal Air Force needs, a twin engine 400 mph fighter, bomber, reconnaissance aeroplane that will take the fight to the enemy and, it’s made of wood!!

In spite the scepticism from the MOD (ministry of defence), de Havilland pressed on and creates possibly the best aeroplane ever made. It was faster than the Spitfire of the time and could carry the fight – with bombs, rockets, cameras or agents – to the enemy, and performed some off the most daring raids of the war.

Mixing history and facts with the first hand accounts of the men who flew the thousands of missions at treetop level over enemy territory, night after night, week after week, month after month for four years, this book takes you to the heart of the battle, be it the quietude of a moonlit field in Zealand, or the smoke filled cockpit of a doomed Mosquito, you get to smell, hear and feel everything and learn what fortitude, valour and hero, really mean.

Four and a Half Stars.

 

So, the runners: Someone Like Me by M. R. Carey

This is a book about domestic abuse, murder in self-defence, kidnapping, multiple personalities, mental health, young love and an imaginary fox, written with a delicacy I wasn't expecting.

From Beth's rise behind Liz's calm exterior, to Beth's cold-blooded ability to not just kill Liz's (her) ex-husband but to dispose of him with such composure is brilliantly executed. As is the relationship between Francine and Jinx, her imaginary animated fox friend that happened to turn up the day she woke after being kidnapped as a young girl. The way they speak, interact - Fran even holds doors open for her fox when she's going to see her therapist - is again, clever and very well executed as is the book in general.

With multiple perspectives: teenagers, adults, the real and the ethereal, the fictional and the fantastical, and the fear, the horror and the tranquillity, I fell that I’ve found an unexpected gem that needs shouting about. Four and a half stars.

 

And the winner: Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid

I have a confession. I was a big tennis fan when I was younger, mid-80s to mid-90s – used to camp on the street to get Wimbledon tickets – which might have skewed my opinion, but let’s face it, this author writes superb books.

Carrie Soto won everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, so, when the new kid on the block closes in on her all-time Grand Slam record, Carrie Soto doesn’t take it lying down and we learn just how hard it is to be at the top: the fastest, fittest, the best.

Told from two timelines, the before and the now, we follow Carrie through the lows, the highs, the sweat and tears, the injury, self-doubt, the constant berating from the media: that she’s passed it, shouldn’t have come out of retirement, is embarrassing herself.

There’s her relationship with her father, the lose of her mother, the possible old flame/love interest and it’s frenetic to say the least, chapters passing in the blink of an eye – it took me just 9 days to read, I just couldn’t put it down.

So, like Daisy Jones & the Six, where you don’t need to be mad on music to enjoy it, I don’t think you need to be a tennis fan to enjoy this, it’s just a fantastically fast paced story full of emotion wrapped up in a sporting environment and is, by me at least, heartily recommended. Five stars.

To finish, I would just like to wish you all the best for 2025 and hope you find happiness in whatever form that takes.

Who & what do you read? Questions I get asked as a book blogger (Pt II) Michael J Richardson

Well we've covered the classics, horror and apocalyptic (see 03/10 post), so what's left?

I don't really read crime or thrillers as the few I have read over the years seemed rather formulaic, and I don't read much Sci-fi (although what I have read has mostly been entertaining) but I do read Literary Fiction, authors like Ishiguro, McEwan (Enduring Love being a firm favourite) Cormac McCarthy's sublime No Country for Old Men, Ali & Zadie Smith and Jesmyn Ward to name but a few and although short in length, most have left lasting impressions.
Y/A (Young Adult), books like, Since You've been Gone, Thirteen Reasons Why, We Were Liars, Emma Cline's, The Girls, All The Bright Places, The Hate U Give, After the Fire and of course, John Green's back catalogue (Looking For Alaska being my favourite), have also entertained beyond maybe what I thought they would and are well worth checking out - most of what I write is in the Y/A genre so maybe I'm being slightly biased there - but I often find books in that category have far more substance than their initial subject matter might imply.
Book series then, like Justin Cronin's The Passage, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings (I'll blog about that one soon, after another reread), Ben Aaronovitch with his witty magical Rivers of London novels, Stephen King's Dark Tower, the aforementioned Harry Potters series and Carlos Ruiz Zafon's (yes him again), stunning Cemetery of Forgotten Books collective are some of my all-time favourites, so much so that I have read most of them more than once and some of them too many times to actually remember, and will no doubt do them all again one day.
I also love history and so, Robert Harris and his superb back catalogue is one I can whole heartedly recommend, The Office and the Spy probably being my all-time favourite of his but it's not all fiction. James Holland's Fortress Malta and The Battle of Britain, rate alongside Antony Beevor's Stalingrad and Max Hastings' All Hell Let Lose, as some of the most horrific five star books I have ever had the pleasure (if you can call it that), of reading and are books I'll never hesitate to recommend.
So where does that leave us?
Anywhere I suppose. Which is where I recommend you let your mind wander the next time you're in a bookshop (physical of virtual). Bypass the shelf you think you want, mix it up a bit, pick the book next to the one you thought you wanted, the one in the plain brown wrapping that some shops now sell, and see where it takes you, and if you've got a birthday coming up and someone asks you what they can get you, ask them to surprise you because, if it's any of the above and you've not read them yet, you're in for one hell of a ride.

Happy reading.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books to see if I have read them and if I haven't, why not message me with your recommendations.

Weaveworld, book review. (Clive Barker)

Another throwback to my youth this one. Hellraiser had just been released - the film, not the book - A Nightmare on Elm Street was on its third of fourth sequel, Jason was still murdering at will and we teens' were lost in a whirlwind of blood drenched horror, and then - Weaveworld.

Wow!

It was in the horror section so it had to be horror, right? Right? 

Wrong.

This book is an epic (in both depth and length) and begins in a little Victorian house in the heart of Liverpool, backing onto a railway with the soft cooing of racing pigeons in their loft and takes you on one hell of a journey to the secluded vales of the Scottish highlands, through African deserts, the rolling hills of the West Country via the fantastic and magical depths of the Fugue - a land of such wonders and delights, such beauty, that it has been hidden in the weave of a carpet these last hundred years for safekeeping.

When Cal accidently chances upon the carpet as it is being removed from its dead guardian's (Mimi) house and gazes briefly into its depth, he is hooked, addicted, and so it begins.

Shadwell, the charming salesman who's been searching for the Weave, along with the incantatrix Immacolata, for quite some time, soon arrive on the scene - Immacolata is from the Fugue and can sense its presence but has never quite been able to find it whilst Mimi was alive - and with his jacket of wonders (the shimmering inner-lining mesmerises all who gaze upon it when they see their hearts desires) Shadwell and the incantatrix have the advantage.

Mimi had little family and no friends, so when she felt the end was nigh, she summonsed her grand-daughter, Suzanna, but she's too late. Mimi is too far gone and the secret of the carpet and what it houses is lost, or so we think.

With Cal on its trail, he and Suzanna soon cross paths but there is a confrontation and Immacolata and Shadwell take the carpet. During the tussle a small piece is torn off and some of the Seerkind - people who live in the Fugue/Weave - are freed.

With so much magic flying around and general destruction - Cal is lucky to escape his own garden when Immacolata attacks - it's Hobart, a dodgy cop (who likes nothing more than to beat a confession from people) who is assigned to the case, and with Cal on the run and Susanna arrested, there seems little hope; but what's this? What's happening? What can she feel, how can she . . .?

With Susanna escaping custody - in rather spectacular fashion I might add - she and Cal track the Weave to an auction in a stately home, and from there, where Susanna cuts the Weave at its heart and it begins to unravel, to the vales of Scotland, where we experience the Fugue in all its amazing depth, meet the Seerkind and the myriad creatures that live in its folds, through the cold dark nights and searing days of the African desert - where Shadwell has gone in search of the Scourge (an Angel he hopes will destroy the Seerkind, once and for all) to the knee deep snow of the frozen West Country, this book never ceases to amaze, thrill and entertain.

Barker's writing throughout is a triumph, from character believability to the world he creates in the fabric of the Weave, and although slightly dated in some aspects, the book is simply superb. There is horror and destruction, death and pain but there is love and hope, too and in the cold snow blanketed hills and vales at the end, when good faces evil, you get the feeling that only a truly excellent book can give . . . the feeling that you just don't want it to end. 

It's been near on thirty years since I first read this book (which I always remembered liking) but now, having reread it, I love it. Four and half stars. Pure escapism and highly recommended.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them yet why not message me with your recommendations.

The Thief of Always, book review. (Clive Barker)

As a lot of people are at home at the moment with their children, I thought, why not do a post for the kids.
It's been twenty-plus years since I last read this little gem of a book and I wish I hadn't left it so long.

Being a little bored and annoyed with all the chores his mother has given him, Harvey Swick is in a foul mood, so when Rictus appears in his bedroom, offering to take him to Mr. Hood's holiday house, a house that has stood for a thousand years and is only just the other side of town, where he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants, where he'll never go hungry, do chores or be bored again, Harvey decides to take him up on the offer.
Of course, this being Clive Barker, all is not quite as it seems. His first day is full of fun and frivolity and passes without incident, and whilst waking to spring the next morning, having summer in the afternoon, Autumn and a Halloween feast for dinner and going to sleep with Christmas, the next day is like a dream. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, there's the pool for a start, the deep dark foreboding pool, where one of Harvey's new friend is spending more and more of her time, looking ever more melancholy with each passing day.

Then, there's Rictus's siblings, his huge fat ugly sister, who wants to transform Harvey with makeup and clothes, so he can play tricks on his friends, nasty horrible, callous tricks, tricks that will truly scare them, and there's nothing fun about that, is there? And Rictus's brother - Mr. Hood's deputy if you will - who lives for nothing more than to see the children's fear and pain as they become more detached from reality and ever more ensconced in the house, the pool, the . . .

Time passes, but with each day being the same, no chores, whatever food you want, whenever you want it, Christmas every evening, Harvey is getting bored and decides to leave, only he can't, because Rictus and his siblings have other ideas, and they have their orders. Orders from Mr Hood, strict orders . . . No-one ever leaves.

What a great novel this is; starting as child's fantasy and ending in such (child friendly) horror, and what a clever book too, for children and adults alike, reminding us that we should all be careful about what we wish for and that maybe we should look closer at what we already have before giving in to temptation.

Written in Barker's usual fantastical style but somewhat toned for a younger audience, this book could be enjoyed by anyone, so if you've never read Clive Barker but don't want to invest the time it would take to read one of his more ambitious creations (although I recommend that you do that too as I have liked everything of his that I have read so far) then you won't go far wrong with, The Thief of Always.

Four stars then and I certainly won't be leaving it this long to re-visit some of this author's other books. Enjoy.

Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights, book review. (Salman Rushdie)

Okay, so where does one start with a book like this?

I know, a quote from the cover: '...it is unlike not only anything you may have read by Rushdie but by anyone anywhere'. Which sums up, Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights, completely, so thanks for reading, see you next time . . .

No, not really, but I can't really say it much better.

I have read hundreds of books in my time and this one really is, unlike anything I have ever read before, and for that alone it is brilliant. It is also very strange, disconcerting, horrific, comical and leaves you feeling somewhat confused, but I suppose if you read a book about jinn, fae, demons and alternate worlds, where a century on Earth is but a few weeks in Peristan, (where the jinn live and spend most of their lives having sex but rarely producing offspring) you might expect it to be all of the above and more, and this book is.

It is not an easy read, and with many strange and unusual names throughout (which, if you follow my blog, you will know annoys the hell out of me sometimes) a sense of flow is hard to achieve, but the juxtaposition of worlds and how the individuals within them interact is fascinating and pushes you through.

Starting hundreds of years ago, when Dunia falls in love with and produces many children with the mortal, Ibn Rushd, before slipping back through the slits between our worlds, the majority of the story happens in the here and now, where the slits have reopened and the jinn are causing trouble.

Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights is a story about the few, the powerful, controlling the masses and seeking to divide, create panic, sow fear amongst the less fortunate, feeding off of their desperation for power and wealth, and it feels so relevant for today's society, and although this book has many aspects of fantasy and of mythical culture woven within it, it is still firmly rooted in the present day and is very thought-provoking.

I can best describe the writing style as juddering, as it hopes back and forth from characters that are simple and easy to understand, to others (the jinn mainly) who flitter back and forth between worlds, and are harder to grasp, but for me, and in this instance, having to close the door and isolate myself so I could get fully immersed in the story, was when I realised that it not making sense, seemed to suddenly make sense! Go figure.

So, four stars for this one then but go in with your eyes open as it will require your full attention.

The Dark Tower, (PtVI), Wizard and Glass, book review. (Stephen King)

WOW, wow and er . . . okay then!

In this, the fourth part of Roland's quest for the dark tower, we are treated to possibly the longest flashback in any book I've ever read, and it is here that the wows are aimed. The rest of the book doesn't really move the story on that much hence the er, but it does deal with Blane the Mono from book three - rather poorly in my opinion - as if the author ran out of really tough riddles to fool the Mono and had to result to stupidity. Then there's the Wizard of Oz style ending where our quintet tackle the Emerald City and get back on the beam, but you can ignore all that really because the bones of this book are in the six hundred plus pages of flashback, in Mejis, when Roland was a child and fell in love and . . .

There are gun-toting cowboys guarding oil derricks and tankers full of the black stuff hauled by oxen. There is the witch, Rhea of the Coos, who is bewitched by the wizard's glass and sees all. There is Roland and his ka-tet, Cuthbert, and Alain, who have been sent to the outer reaches of Mid-World on the pretence of counting anything that can be counted, when really they have been sent away to protect them from trouble back home. Then there is Susan Delgado, the most beautiful maiden in all of Mid-World and it doesn't take long for her and Roland to become entwined in a love affair, an affair that will bring death and dishonour to many and haunt Roland for the rest of his days.

As Blood Moon gives way to the Kissing Moon and the world spins, Roland and his ka-tet begin counting, but it isn't long before the suspicions of the sheriff and his lawmen are raised. There is a standoff, which goes in the ka-tet's favour, Rhea sees Susan losing something that had been promised to the Mayor, and there is a suspicious amount of activity in the woods where the crude oil still flows.

Asides from the beginning, where Eddie beats Blane with a riddle that isn't a riddle, you just fall into the narrative and can't wait to get to the Reaping fair. There are a lot of characters in this book but they all differ in ways that keeps the reader entertained and never confused. There is death, dishonour, love, fear, and pain, but the writing is some of the author’s very best so as you speed through the near nine hundred pages, you too fall in love with Susan, fear for Roland, wonder at Alain and Cuthbert's abilities, all whilst wondering how they will ever get the better of the sheriff and his men and survive.

If a book can have you on the edge of your seat, this one can. If a book can have you gasping, biting your nails in anticipation and leave you feeling completely empty, this one can and if it wasn't for the lacklustre beginning and okay ending, it would have been another five star Stephen King classic, as it is though I'll give this one four and a half stars.

The Dark Tower, (PtIII), The Waste Lands, book review. (Stephen King)

So, book three in the series, and this one feels a little disjointed, like a play of three acts: a beginning, a middle and an end, all good, but the intervals, the bathroom breaks if you like, are a bit lacking.

Let me explain.

Act one is about a giant cyborg bear that guards the beam, (one of twelve beams that lead to the Dark Tower), and when I say giant, I mean absolutely massive. The pace, the near death experience of Eddie and Susannah, (Susannah finally becoming a gunslinger), all has you on the edge of your seat, as does act two.

Act two is where Jake is rescued from New York again, and the connection he has with Roland and his ka-tet in Mid-World, is inescapable. As Jake edges his way through the city, getting ever closer to where he thinks he needs to be, Roland, Eddie and Susannah get ready for his arrival, and it's here that things get a bit slow; or is it just that when Jake enters a derelict house, and Susannah enters a stone circle in Mid-World - letting the Demon that resides there possess her - that the writing is sooooooo crazy good, that everything else seems dull?

Possibly!

Act three, the end of the book, where our five travellers - Jake's made it through from New York and has found a friend in a Billy Bumbler, (small furry raccoon like animal with limited vocabulary) - find themselves at Lud, a city not to dissimilar to New York, but one that has suffered from hundreds, maybe thousands of years of neglect.

Act three is good, not quite the best bit in my opinion, that's Jake in the derelict house, but I think the reason for this is found on the back cover: 'Set in a world of extraordinary circumstance', it reads, and at times, even though I know I'm reading a book of fiction, it feels like some parts are just there to plug the gaps rather than enhance the story. I suppose you could level this criticism at a lot of Stephen King novels, it can almost be a part of why we enjoy reading them so much, but here, it felt contrived.

The ending of course, isn't really an ending, because this is only book three in the series, but their run through Lud and their escape from the city on Blain the Mono, is fast paced and action packed enough to make you jump straight into book four.

Overall then, not as good as book two, but with moments of pure genius, three and half stars.

The Dark Tower, (PtII), The Drawing of the Three, book review. (Stephen King)

So, the gunslinger, Roland Deschain, has survived the desert and parlayed with the Man in Black, but seeing the birth of the universe has taken its toll. (Book 1: The Gunslinger. Blog post: 22/10/17).

He lies on a beach, exhausted; days, weeks, years, millennia might have passed, he doesn't know, but when ancient lobster like creatures come with the tide and take his figures, he knows it's bad, and as their poison creeps slowly through his body, he knows it could be the end.

In desperation, he crawls along the deserted beach, and on encountering his first door, he steps across that threshold and becomes: Eddie Dean - drug addict, petty criminal, bad seed - flying back to America with thousands of dollars of Class-A drugs strapped to his body. After Eddie is acquired by the FBI, released and then picked up by the mob, (the drugs having mysteriously disappeared), there's a fantastic shootout with the drug boss and his goons, which for me, is one of the highlight of the book, but, all is not well, Eddie needs a fix. No longer being in New York, (he is in Roland's world now), his drugs are somewhat harder to come by, but what lengths will he go to, to get them?

Door two, and a disabled schizophrenic. Odetta and Detta Holmes, have occupied the same space for years, each with little idea that the other exists, and what a ride. 1960's New York, thief, wheelchair bound, (she was pushed beneath a train by the man who killed Jake in book one), and with serious attitude, and, as soon as she's in Roland's world, she's of murderous intent.

Behind the third and final door, Roland becomes the man who pushed Jake and Odetta to their fates, but with Roland at the helm, Jake survives, which is really weird.

They enter a gun shop to replenish Roland's stocks, and then a pharmacy for the drugs that Roland hopes will cure the lobstrosity infection, and again, this part of the book is exceptional, but has he done enough? Will the drugs work? Or will Odetta/Detta and Eddie kill him first?

All in all, this book is about a journey along a beach, but what Roland encounters as he crawls and walks, the issues the author puts in his way, a disabled schizophrenic being just the tip of the iceberg, makes for a thoroughly entertaining journey.

In isolation, I'd say this is very nearly a five star book, but, as it is part of a series, I'm going with four and a half stars for the time being.
Book three, The Waste Lands, awaits.