blog? there's no time for blog!!!

I am too busy watching this over and over again.

( and yes, the dog is canon)

Is Hearing an Author Read before Reading their books the same as watching a movie before reading the book...................

[me and Sir Ian]

I tip my cap at Linwood Barclay today because he really is brilliant and charming and funny and last night he was in a sticky spot the: I’M SIGNING WITH RANKIN spot. This has been a kerfuffle in the past, as well. Author who is offered a spot with Rankin can look at it in two ways: 1.) great exposure with ( what an usher last night told me) was the biggest signing of the festival ( and most usually is) 2.) a lot of sitting by yourself at a table with a bottle of water and a few stragglers who heard you read and hit up the Ben McNally booth.

As I was standing in line waiting for Rankin, I kept looking over at good-natured Linwood and reminding myself exactly how pitch-perfect his reading and chat earlier in the evening were. He was funny, down-to-earth, Canadian, bright, intelligent and though I tend to prefer my hardboiled ( or soft boiled in the way of tea cosy) UK mystery authors, Barclay inspired me to hunt down his fiction.

I stood and shifted my weight and wondered, having read none other than his magnificent Toronto Star columns , would his fiction be the same? Last night’s intro and readings were entertaining and amusing because he emphasized, cajoled and teetered with his prose in a comfortable way that, he: the author, could slip into like an old University hoody.

Would the Linwood Barclay I saw at the Norma Fleck Dance Theatre: the Barclay of great dialogue, nuance, script and humorous undertone, translate to book form?

Is seeing an author live before reading their book the same as watching a movie before reading the book?

Hmmm. Barclay’s a fantastic reader, does that ruin the reading experience if I detach his prose from his presence?

I got to thinking about the good, the bad, and the ugly of IFOA readings during my half a dozen years of attendance.

Rankin is always a hit with the audience because he has this lackadaisical rock-star thing going. Very much like Neil Gaiman, his mere presence asserts an immediate sit-up-in-seat reaction. I had read him long before I saw him and seeing him read again and again just heightens and rounds-out my love for his fiction.

Kenneth Oppel’s reading of Airborn was the most innovative I had ever been to. The kids in the audience were mesmerized as he donned a white lab coat, and used a meter stick to point out the different parts of an airship on an overhead screen. He was the zany scientist: a thorough geek who loved his subject matter and had the kids in awed giggles. When I was midway through Oppel’s Starclimber and felt he was unforgiving in his departure from great adventure story to stodgy: “must round out Matt and Kate relationship” I called this moment to the book’s defense and let Oppel off the hook. Personalized moment=influencing book.

Then you have Michael Crummey who was born to spin a yarn ( and is, as you know, Canada ’s cutest author--- hate to be superficial, but its true) and invites you into a long oral trajectory from St. John’s--- all down-to-earth, clear and engaging like the audience is sitting round a campfire listening to something that strings them along....

And CC Humphreys who knows he is a good reader and uses that confident flair ( and British accent) to present dramatically in a very captivating way.

If we go back to Dickens and Twain we know that an author’s on-stage marketing of their work ( and simultaneously themselves) is not something new. Heck, even Coleridge and Wordsworth were considered celebrities. Had spunky Jane Austen and eruditely unique Charlotte Bronte decided to unlatch their pseudonyms, I have a feeling they would have been wonderfully eloquent in drawing rooms.

Also, I don't usually get my picture taken with authors (read:this is the first time. But, Ian Rankin is a ROCK STAR)

Just Some Shameless Anthony Horowitz Love

Anthony Horowitz: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

1.) Foyle’s War
2.) Foyle’s War
3.) Alex RIDER ( even the stupid ones near the end and Mickey Roarke in the film!)
4.) The Diamond Bros ( the Falcon’s Malteser! Hello!)
5.) The most atmospheric Shakespearian tale for young readers on the market The Devil and His Boy
6.) Those scary books that people keep sending me ARCs of---what are those called? ---anyways, those are good too…
7.) Foyle’s War
8.) Midsomer Murders (!!)
9.) Groosham Grange!


Oh Groosham Grange you are the funniest thing I have read in ages. I was killing myself on the subway this morning. The word play! The heebee jeebees. The “note to booksellers” ( in this ARC) expressing that this is the most personal of his work because he went to a boarding school at age 8 and was fairly convinced that all of his teachers were monsters.


Funny stuff! From David’s log to the ghastly and grisly conditions imparted to those on the roll ( no parents allowed at this school cast off on an ominous island near Norfolk: lest they can swim; no punishments or penalties; but one vacation day granted a year). This is gold for the grades 4-6 crowd. Coupled with Half Minute Horrors ( a collection of perfect little tales crafted to snatch the imagination of reluctant readers and keep them chilled ), there is a lot of wondrous fright available for the young reader.

I could pinpoint what insane and zany moments would inspire the most giggles from 8-10 year olds. Perhaps the hymn-singing priest who has a heart attack of sheer fright when he hears the words “ Groosham Grange” uttered or Gregor: the hunchback who stepped out of those horrific lab-experiment-frankenstein stories and into this world or the headmaster who cannot see his own reflection in a mirror or the teacher who has nice teeth—which she keeps in a jar on her desk.


This is giddy, terrific fun and I had a hoot reading it.

Anthony Horowitz: you rock my socks. Always have! And on behalf of people dedicated to finding perfect solutions for those reluctant boy readers, you have solved many a problem!

Kids clamor for the Alex Rider series and they should clamor for this too!

Lots of good clamoring to be had!

Dreaming Anastasia or I Dreamed This Anastasia would be a lot better than it was

Dreaming Anastasia was given a great marketing campaign from SourceBooks in the form of a rampant blog tour which infiltrated my google reader for the course of a few days.

Courtney and I did one of our book swaps at Word on the Street, I was pleased to steal off with this one. I was in the mood for some Romanovs and I always hanker after enchanting stories about the lost Duchess.

Unfortunately, my appetite was not whet. At all.

Now, you all know my favourite thing to do is gush about books. I love finding books that I can talk non-stop about for days. Advertise. Coddle. Adore.

Every once in awhile, a book comes along that frustrates me. This one did.

I wasn’t in the mood for slipshod writing, convoluted perspectives, wooden dialogue and a heroine who was not so much endearingly vulnerable as not-so-bright.

The book just doesn’t work. I applaud Preble for her renaissance of a subject a lot of YA readers would easily jump on a bandwagon for: the Anastasia legend is embedded in intrigue, mysticism and romance and, with that platform, competent and imaginative writers can spin many a lustrous web.

Unfortunately, this web was tangled. Too tangled.

Anne is a lithe ballerina and typical high school girl who is still grieving the loss of her brother while trying to come to terms with a new and eerie presence at school ( the brooding Ethan: trying so hard to be Edward Cullen it made my eye twitch), midterms, ballet class and dreams about a Russian duchess.

That’s right: the lost Duchess is alive and well and infiltrating Anne’s dreams.


Intermixed with this oft confusing and bordering on sheer ridiculous tale we have infusions of Anastasia’s letters. Now this is not at all the author’s fault, but, in ephemera-gone-bad, Anastasia’s “cursive” is nearly illegible in print and I had to squint ( with reading glasses on) to decipher this code.


Far be it for me to stomp on a first novelist. I know, I KNOW how difficult writing intriguing and different YA can be --- especially when infused with history and I applaud Joy Preble ( a high school teacher, at that) for her creativity.

It just doesn’t work. Perhaps if all of the different patterns had been sewn in a different quilt….


The problem is I read a lot ( hundreds ) of YA books a year and I like finding those that fit into my handful of “DROP EVERYTHING AND READ!”

I ended up looking up from the last page while reading on the subway this morning thinking: “I just don’t have time for this.”

In trying to be original and at the same time appealing to the Twilight-audience, Preble has set out to unravel a gorgeous and illustrious facet of history and, ironically, fashioned herself a cliché.

This doesn't mean I won't try Joy Preble out again in the future: she HAS potential.

Sylvanus Now by Donna Morrissey

Donna Morrissey is a goddess. Just so you all know. She is a CanLit goddess.

I love her.

I thought I loved her when I read Kit's Law and I thought I loved her when I read Downhill Chance but, woe, I was so young and naiive in my love and it took my recent reading of Sylvanus Now for my love to come full circle and for me to fully realize the power of Morrissey's craft.

Oh Rachel-of-yesteryear--- you were so young, you merely appreciated her taut page turners---- her compulsively readable yarns of familial saga;of the scope of Newfoundland: of relationships tested and tossed ( like the waves she speaks so proudly of).

You could not, dear Rachel, have anticipated the gut-wrenching; heart-breaking; mind-numbing-palm-sweaty-and-eyes-watering-and-brain-reeling-sheer-POWER of Sylvanus Now.

I latched onto every sentence for dear life.

Funny, I was looking for a book to take on the plane with me leaving St. John's last weekend. I had read all of the books I had with me because when I travel alone I always bring a book with me for when I eat out. I ploughed through all I had.

In the airport bookstore, I knew I wanted something from Newfoundland and there it was: a compact mass market ready to be read.

I loved Sylvanus Now. Loved every heart-wrenching page. I loved that it made me perspire with anticipation: made me actually taste the bile and salt young Addie encounters in her treacherous work with the "flakes."

In fact, the story of fishermen and fisheries ----specificially one fisherman and his trapped wife---were a representation of the changing way of life. After the Second World War with large international vessels populating and ravaging the waters surrounding Newfoundland, residents of the outports were forced into a world crass and new. Gone were the days of slaving only to the Mother ( the great ocean whose bountiful fruit provided industry and survival in primitive form); gone the oral tales and the language of sea and sky; of living from the land for the land; of appreciating a culture and tradition dating back centuries.

The world sped up and swept Sylvanus, a proud fisherman, and all of the outport men of his ilk with it.

I was thoroughly outraged by what was presented in the novel. Outraged that somehow the sea became free reign for modernization; machination; crude infiltration of factories and technology to rid the water of what Sylvanus and his family had carefully wrought for generations.

The Mother becomes less and less fruitful as Sylvanus' skiff bopped over waves once plentiful of food and promise and the sea foam became a haunting, watery grave for bloated fish carcasses: an emblem of man's extremes.

As a paradox, Sylvanus' proud wife Addie suffers numerous stillbirths: almost as if the glassy water surrounding the port is offering a mirror in which her plight is reflected.

A powerful and gripping story of love and loss.

As turbulent as Sylvanus' relationship with the sea and the new factory-life sprouting around the province, so is his relationship with his beloved Adelaide.

Their courtship is tame and lovely: a young fisherman who has worked endless hours to buy a suit: (who, because of this revered garment, is hired to stand in at weddings and funerals to loan respectability) in order to woo and marry a girl pursues her and attempts to show her the poetry in the region she disdains: beauty and promise and a house of her own in a region she longs to leave for a life as a missionary.

Sylvanus watches the seemingly haughty Addie at a party one night; her lithe frame erect, her nose stuck in the air. Sylvanus spends the entirety of the novel attempting to make good on his promise to provide her everything she needs. Addie accepts and, though the two rift at cross-purposes throughout the novel, there persistence and stamina reminded me of the locals who will not be moved by industry or modernization.

This novel has such a huge scope it is hard to condense and compartmentalize it here for you.

All you need to know is that I recommend it ever so highly. I loved each page and held on for dear life.

I finished it the day I started and, though somewhat emotionally distressed, was better for the profound experience.

Donna Morrissey: I love you! Damn! You can write a book.

The pages flew through my fingertips.

Imaginary Author Interviews: Stephenie Meyer

[disclaimer: are these imaginary author interviews a little silly? Yes. I do them in the spirit of frivolous bookish love for a lark. Please note I do not have a mean spirit, nor do I disrespect the authors featured. Its all in the name of booklove!]

Well. Well. Our friend requested an Imaginary Author Interview with Internationally Best-Selling Phenomenon Author Stephenie Meyer.

I am thrilled to oblige as interacting with numerous authors is a privilege. A rare privilege and one that makes this job ever so much more exhilerating.

R: yours truly

SM: Stephenie Meyer

R: Stephenie Meyer! You are a busy woman! All this love! All screaming teenage girls and custom made t-shirts and glitter and Robert Pattison love. Tell me, does RPatts really look like the Edward of your mind?

SM: No. My Edward was a little less scary-looking and a little more golden. Think Neil Patrick Harris.

R: NPH? Well, in that case, would you be open to considering Twilight: The Musical?

SM: Absolutely. In fact, in my spare time ( which isn't a lot, y'know, these days because the world is in love with me and I spend a lot of time straightening my perfectly glossy brown hair), I have scribbled a few potential ditties......

R: Such as?

SM: Stake a Claim On My Heart; The Volturi Waltz of Treachery; All That Glitters is Vamp; Werewolf Hunt ( sounds a bit, I might add, like the Kill the Beast song in Beauty and the Beast)

R: I wanted to write a Battlestar Galactica Musical. We would need a lot of tinfoil, though. What would your musical require?

SM: sparkly glitter dust. And some of those fake plastic fangs you can buy at a costume shop before Hallowe'en.

R: The ones that taste like wax?

SM: yes.

R: So, tell me about Jasper Hale. Is he named for any special eccentric inventor one might recognize from a popular Canadian television series based on a series of short stories and two novels by LM Montgomery?

SM: You mean Jasper Dale from Road to Avonlea? Yes! Where else could I come up with such a similar sounding name? And to be sure, the character looks a lot like RH Thomson!---at least in my head

R: Isn't RH a little older?

SM: I de-age him in my mind

R: It is so nice to talk to another LM Montgomery fan. Now, a delicate subject, were you offended by this ?

SM: Otahyoni talking about Edward's Toes? No! I thought it was a brilliant Twilight parody and a rollicking good time

R: I said that!, for the record, I said that all along! Those crazy little teenie girls were getting their claws out and I knew you would be good sport. Tell me, once and for all : Edward or Jacob?

SM: Jacob! Sparkly people are scary....

R: Mr. Darcy doesn't sparkle

SM: no. No. he doesn't quite.

R: What is next on your list?

SM: Well, I am thinking of re-telling Road to Avonlea where Jasper Dale is a vampire. True Blood is just so popular. Vamps in small towns is a great idea!

R: *Gasps* Seeeeeeeeriously?

SM: *nods* uh-huh! and JDale wreaks havoc on Hetty King and there is blood. and mayhem. and zombies.

R: Wicked-awesome. Finally, do you know that the only scene I really remember from the ARC of Twilight I read a dinosaur's age ago is where she is eating mushroom ravioli and drinking coke. I guess you described that mushroom ravioli very carefully.

SM: Yes. That and the vampire baseball scene where the two most pivotal moments thematically in my grand opus.

R:Fascinating. *extends virtual hand* Thanks SMeyer. You're a real peach!

Imaginary Interviews Series: the Eoin Colfer Edition

[disclaimer: are these imaginary author interviews a little silly? Yes. I do them in the spirit of frivolous bookish love for a lark. Please note I do not have a mean spirit, nor do I disrespect the authors featured. Its all in the name of booklove!]

Greetings friends,

First off, I am thrilled that the renowned author of Artemis Fowl and ( my personal favourite) Half-Moon Investigations and a bunch of other cool stuff ( including a long-awaited addition to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) will be in my darling Toronto for the International Festival of Authors (hereafter acronymed as IFOA). We love Eoin Colfer and think his Artemis Fowl Grapic Novel is a determined way to get reluctant boys to read!

After sending out a request to you, fair readers, to tell me WHO you would like me to (imaginarily) interview, I was pleased that Jess put forth: Eoin Colfer.

Of course, Jess knows far more about Mr. Colfer than I do: follows him on twitter; met him at comicon. Whereas I, intrepid blogger, am erm.... a bit of a laodicean ( don't know that term? read ye your Colossians) when it comes to his work: meaning I am familiar in a lukewarm sort of way. I have read a few of his books.

Nonetheless, I queried and discovered there were some pressing questions Jess wanted me to ask Mr. Colfer and I, of course, as your gracious host of Imaginary Author Interviews was happy to oblige:

R:yours truly

EC: Eoin Colfer

R: Mr. Colfer, it is such a pleasure to have you here today. All the way from ...*looks up where he is from in Wikipedia* from WEXFORD, Ireland. A real treat.

EC: I am not really here

R: We have so much to discuss--- mostly literary things. First off, tell us the meaning of life! The ultimate answer to the universe.... in your opinion?

EC: 42

R: Excellent. Next, if you find yourself being fastly approached by a saber-toothed space alligator, what would you recommend as the most stable course of action?

EC: Don't panic!

R: Very sage, Mr. Colfer, Very sage. If you are packing for a trip what are you most likely to throw into your suitcase before anything else?

EC: my towel, of course. You're blarmy!

R: *Claps hands* this is going sooo well! I just want to reiterate what a treat it is to have you here. Especially because you mean so much to my friend Jessica. You are like her ...erm... Arthur Slade or Catherine Webb or some such....

EC: Is that a good thing?

R: depends. So, tell us a little about the new book. Was it hard to take up where Douglas Adams left off?

EC: Did you know Richard Dawkins dedicated a book to Douglas Adams?

R: Why in fact I did.

EC: I just tried to re-write the Hitchhiker lore in the way I thought would be most appealing to fans....

R: Which was?....

EC: Throw in Holly, Artemis and Butler

R: Say WHA?

EC: Yep. If you read the book backward and every other line omitting every third "and" you have yourself a whizbang of a grand Artemis Fowl adventure!

R: You.Don't.SAY!!

EC: I do! I do say! Did you know Artemis Fowl is an anti-hero?

R: Yes. I have a job writing lesson plans for elementary teachers and it has oft been the focal point.

EC: I don't think Arthur Dent is an anti-hero though.

R: Very perceptive. Listen, perhaps we can up the literary notch here a bit and slide in some Scott Lynch.

EC: Whom?

R: Do you think Artemis would outsmart conniving con Locke Lamora?

EC: I really can't... I don't....

R:*shrugs* Ne'er mind, I told someone I would throw that in. Also, do you have a chesterfield?

EC: A chesterfield?

R: That's Canadian for couch. You ARE a canaphile?

EC: A cross between a cannibal and an anglophile?

R: A person who loves any and all things Canadian. You are or you wouldn't be here....

EC: well. my publicist arranged for this and ....

R: Moving right along. Back to the chesterfield thing, do you own one?

EC: I can confirm tha there is a chesterfield in my house, yes.

R: Perfect. I think you might soon have a house guest. Next, how many rocks can Butler lift at a time?

EC: Two, maybe? Hey. How big are the rocks?

R: Just wondering. Well Mr. Colfer *extends virtual hand* You are a delight. We all love your accent and your books and wish you all the very best.

EC: Erm... was I even here?

R: don't sound so perplexed. Of course you were. My friend Jessica especially thanks you.

EC: That's a common name.

R: the one who follows you on twitter.

EC: *rolls eyes* oh yah.... 'cause THAT narrows it down.

R: have fun in *checks Wikipedia again* WEXFORD

Purist: For a REAL interview with Eoin Colfer go here

Champions of the World: Michael Crummey on Youtube(!!); imaginary author interview requests

Kids,

So much to talk about today in sunny St. John's. So much going on. So many books!

So, fortunately, one of my favourite times of year is fast approaching: IFOA (aka getting Ian Rankin to Toronto one author festival at a time). And, as you know from years past I like to run a little haphazard and seriously ridiculous series called Imaginary Author Conversations where I interview authors whether I know them, have actually met them or not.

I am taking requests this year. NOTE: Catherine Webb is off bounds but the rest of the world is open. Who should I interview? No limits. All fun.

Whew! so much to get through....

Last night, I wrote my friend and informed her that I keep expecting Michael Crummey to show up when I eat out here in Newfoundland at the table adjacent. He hasn't but I don't want to deprive you of one of Canada's finest, so here is a youtube interview ( M.Crummey has a wide range of sweater options as you will soon decipher from every author photo and appearance)

And a review of Danny, Champion of The World by Roald Dahl

Danny and his "sparky" father live in a caravan behind the filling station they work at. From a young age, Danny learns all about engines, mechanics and he and his young, understand, perfectly compassionate father have a multitude of larks. Then, Dad spills a secret: he likes poaching pheasants to stick it to rich landowners and because its fun SOOOO Danny and Dad unleash the world's perfect pheasant poaching caper: brainless, really, because pheasants are fond of raisins ( obviously) and boiling raisins, sticking sleeping pill powder in and popping them at pheasants is enough to bring the birds out of the sky and into their hands and earn Danny the Champion of the World title he so deserves.

This book was fast and funny and rather sweetly unexpected and I read it in one sitting. Serious timbres included the absence of Danny's mum (due to an untimely death) and Danny being strapped at school for supposed cheating ( of course we can tell Dahl admonishes corporal punishment by Dad's insane reaction).

And, for you Dahlites out there, the BFG shows up. If only for a cameo.

Signing off from beautiful and sunny St. John's.

[keep you posted on any Crummey sightings but I have a feeling he is touring for Galore]