Review – Into The Water

I’ll start this one off by making something clear – I enjoyed this book and I think Paula Hawkins is very talented. But, having said that, I do feel a bit sorry for her as an author. I imagine she feels like Hugh Grant’s dad in About a Boy, who wrote that really successful song and spent the rest of his life trying to top its success with a better one. It’s like when Nirvana stopped playing Smells Like Teen Spirit, but some of us like Smells Like Teen Spirit and unfortunately, it’s the general consensus that it is their best song.

Personally, I thought Girl on the Train was amazing. I know a few clever cloggs managed to figure out the twist before the end but sorry, I wasn’t one of you. I liked Girl on the Train so much that I wish I hadn’t already read it, just so I can have that experience of reading it for the first time all over again. This, I think, is the sole reason that I finished Into the Water by feeling a little bit…flat.

Into the Water follows quite a similar formula to Girl on the Train, in that it is told by different people’s perspectives and the reader has to piece all of this together to follow the story – and I do think this is a great way of building the suspense and keeping the reader’s interest. However, Into the Water it told by about six different perspectives, and that of some additional quite minor characters, so I must admit I spent the first two thirds of the book referring back to the ‘who’s who’ guide which sits before the prologue. Sorry, but if your reader is still doing this two thirds in, there are simply too many main characters to keep track of. Each character, no matter how minor, had a rich history to them, which in itself is absolutely not a bad thing (quite the opposite), but when you have so many main characters there just is not room for such depth to each one and it starts to weigh quite heavily on the reader’s head. The plot had more complexities than Girl on the Train as well, because it includes flashbacks to completely different eras as well as different characters’ past experiences, so it was just a bit too much to follow.

The plot itself was great, a lot of things happened early on that made me think ‘no way is this going to be made relevant at the end, there’s no chance that all of these pieces are going to come together’, but they did. Paula Hawkins would not get seven years of bad luck if she dropped a mirror because she’d piece that glass back together perfectly in less than an hour – I have no doubt about that. I do however feel that there wasn’t a need for some of the sub plots, for example I don’t think Helen needed so much of a role in the story, and the whole conflict between Nell and Jude didn’t feel that relevant to the overall mystery. It felt to me like their conflict was there to justify Robbie’s place in the story, and he seemed to exist only as a means of throwing the reader off the scent of the actual killer – much like the therapist in Girl on the Train. But, having read Girl on the Train first, I was too familiar with Paula Hawkins’ mind games. So, even though on paper Robbie seemed like the obvious culprit, I knew that the obvious one would turn out to be totally irrelevant in the end, and he only seemed to feature a couple of times in the story. My logic was that if he was in any way important to the ending, he would be featured in it far more than he actually is, so when Jules went to the garage to challenge him over his involvement, the tension just wasn’t there for me.

On the whole I did enjoy Into the Water, but it followed the typical plot of this genre so personally I found the twist very easy to guess and the mystery very easy to solve. But, the success of Girl on the Train must have created immense pressure for the author, and it definitely wouldn’t put me off reading anything she publishes in the future. Even though you know what’s coming, Hawkins’ ability to draw the reader in and make you see, smell, hear and feel the surroundings that the character does means I will still be spending many a Sunday afternoon getting lost in her characters’ worlds, as long as she keeps creating them.

Review – My Mum Tracy Beaker

Like all Millennials, particularly those like me who didn’t tend to get out much, I grew up reading Jacqueline Wilson’s eclectic oeuvre of tragically depressing yet addictive stories about kids on the fringes of society. Maybe this is why our generation grew up to love Corbyn so much? That is definitely something that needs to be explored. But I digress. So yes, here I was, twenty four and way too old to be reading books with illustrations, but the announcement that there was going to be a new Tracy Beaker story immediately reverted me back to being ten years old and immersing myself in a great book for hours on end without the guilt of ‘I really should hoover today’ or ‘I should probably use this time to go to the gym’. Ah, youth.

As is the case with many sequels, this excitement also came with a degree of apprehension. ‘The Story of Tracy Beaker’, ‘The Dare Game’ and ‘Starring Tracy Beaker’ were all released in a moderately paced succession, but it’s been twelve years since we last checked in with Tracy and Cam and, frankly, I was a bit worried that this one was going to feel forced and ruin the magic of the first three; but for the first time in recorded history – I was wrong.

We first meet grown-up Tracy through the eyes of her daughter Jess Beaker, who has all of Tracy’s well-hidden good qualities – she’s thoughtful and puts everyone else’s needs before her own, which I think Tracy does deep down but it’s usually masked by her harsh outer shell. Jess is how I imagine the love child of Tracy and Peter Ingham would be, and given how this installment ends, that may well become a reality if there is a further book…

Tracy thankfully hasn’t lost her feisty streak – even as a mother she still hates authority, shouts at teachers and flies completely off the handle whenever she sees red. Having said that, she is fiercely protective of her daughter and very aware of how Carly treated her so she steers vigorously away from that cycle for Jess which adds so much depth to Tracy’s character and reminds you that her vulnerability is still there beneath the angst.

Tracy then falls head over heels for a boy (I know, ick!), and is convinced this is her ticket to the life she always dreamed her mum would give her with fame, fortune and even the pink Cadillac she’s dreamed of since book one. Nice touch there, Ms Wilson! I had reservations about the idea of Tracy being all loved up with a boyfriend, it just didn’t seem realistic to me and I went into this book with great cynicism towards that. However, trying not to reveal too many spoilers here, the boyfriend she has is actually a character we’ve met before – one I always thought there was something a little bit ‘off’ about when we first met him in ‘The Dare Game’. Throughout their relationship, Tracy’s guard is gradually let down and it was so endearing to see that side of her in such a big dose. It seemed like as she’s become an adult Tracy started to lose that sixth sense she always seemed to have about people’s character and her ability to spot a potential baddie within seconds, but thankfully, this is a quality she passed on to Jess – who is not so easily fooled.

Although this book would still be a great read as a standalone, it’s far more special for readers who are familiar with Tracy’s journey as all the previous significant characters make a return either directly or by reference from Tracy or another principal character. And the return of the Mickey Mouse alarm clock was just a nostalgia overdose for me, along with the several other subtle nods to Tracy’s formative yeas.

Naturally Cam is still here as the port of sensibleness in Tracy’s chaotic life, and her relationship with Jess is absolutely perfect and so touching to read. Cam actually has a more significant role in this installment, and becomes more of a character in herself rather than being formed through Tracy’s eyes from the pedestal on which she placed Cam after their first meeting; and her role is a really important consistency for the readers who have followed Tracy’s story from the start. Having Tracy transition into an adult without anyone from her younger years staying in her life wouldn’t really have worked, and also it would be difficult for fans of the series to believe that Cam wouldn’t have remained a part of Tracy’s story. There are some interesting developments with Cam’s character as well, and one pretty big one which is quite amusing as it is discovered through Jess’ observations, but Jess is a bit too naive to understand quite what this storyline implies. This part actually made me really want to go back and re-read the first three, in case this was implied earlier and I just didn’t pick up on it because I, too, was naive when I first read them.

As with all the classic Jacqueline Wilson books, the darker themes like poverty, bullying and to an extent domestic violence were still very prominent, but are narrated through Jess’ innocent perspective so it is somewhat softened and doesn’t feel like a really depressing, gloomy story. And, as ever, you’re still always rooting for Tracy to come out on top even when she is making some monumental mistakes. But of course, as she always does, Tracy comes out on top in the end despite all the struggles, and I love her even more for it. As much as I would love this series to go on and on because Tracy Beaker feels like an old friend with whom I grew up, the ending of this book is so fitting and satisfying that I don’t know where another one could feasibly go – thought I’m sure if anyone can manage it it’s Jacqueline Wilson. Tracy’s reunion with Peter really signified to me that she has come full circle and done the growing up that she needed to in order to appreciate him for the friend he always tried to be for her; and, wherever that relationship goes, it remains a perfect end point for Tracy and Jess’ journey. Plus, it is always nice to leave the door open for readers to make up their own mind about what Tracy might do next.

Do I Heart Lindsey Kelk?

I have had the first three I Heart books on my shelf for god knows how long. I read The Single Girl’s To Do List about six years ago and loved it, but just never got round to reading any more of Lindsey Kelk’s work. After seeing her at a signing a couple of months ago, I was reminded of how much I’d enjoyed that book, so I started on the I Heart series and finished them all in a fairly quick succession. So, I’m going to do my best to de-tangle them in my head (much like after a particularly vigorous spin cycle on the washing machine) to give my verdict on each, and on the series overall.

I Heart New York is the first instalment in the series, where we meet Angela as a broken hearted mess who spontaneously gets on a plane to JFK with a carry on case and the clothes on her back. This one felt very much like a rom com, with spontaneity that completely defied logic – how did she get on a plane to New York with no visa? How did she really afford all that expensive make up and designer clothes? Why was she not at all bothered about getting her share of the house she bought with Mark? Surely that could’ve solved her financial problems, but logic seems to have no place in Angela’s mind. However, like a good rom-com, I found myself overlooking the technicalities and just enjoying the overall story – and who wants to read a book that’s too much like real life anyway? If I wanted to read about credit card debt and career disasters I would start a diary of my own life.

Next comes I Heart Hollywood which, to be brutally honest, doesn’t need to be in the series. I really don’t like to be negative about books because I know someone spent a long time pouring their heart into it and it feels petty and unnecessary to ruin that, but this one was a bit forgettable if I’m totally honest. I Heart New York could very easily have been a standalone book, so the sequel was always going to be difficult to get just right, but I really didn’t get the whole idea of James Jacobs. He was being a complete twat to Angela the entire time, and as much as I’m sure it wasn’t meant like this, the issue of his sexuality and him covering it up with all these ‘beards’ came across as a bit stereotypical and erring on the edge of homophobic. It was all intended as part of an intriguing plot twist, which it was, but for me James’ controlling manager wanting to cover everything up and the George Michael-ing in the toilets did come across as a little bit cliché – as if gay men automatically have to be massive sluts. Again, Lindsey Kelk is a lovely person who I’m sure did not intend for that to be implied, but my interpretation of this book is that it was a bit plotless and slightly insensitive.

I Heart Paris is where it started to really feel like a series to me, as regular characters were starting to become more familiar and given deeper back stories so I became quite invested by this point and was actively wanting to finish the whole series and find out what journeys the characters embarked on. There was very little of Jenny in this book which is possibly why I enjoyed it so much, but it probably had more to do with Angela and Alex’s relationship starting to get quite serious and I became quite invested in that. It was important at this stage to start seeing Alex as an entity in himself and not as Angela’s boyfriend, otherwise the series probably couldn’t last as long, so it was a good palette cleanser learning about his back story and getting to know his personality and more about his life outside of being with Angela.

I Heart Vegas would probably be ranked just above I Heart Hollywood for being a bit of a filler book. Parts of it felt a bit irrelevant, for example all of Angela’s partying with James Jacobs and Jenny’s model friends really made me start to dislike her and it seemed to me like she stopped caring about her career or her relationship with Alex as much, and wanted to have a little ‘woe is me’ pity party. However, as I will elaborate on later, it is good to have a flawed main character that you start to root for to do better. If I was Angela’s friend, I would certainly have been sitting her down with a cup of tea at this stage and talking to her about her poor decisions. Alex certainly puts up with a lot from her overall, but especially so in this one. Having said that though, the proposal at the end is unbelievably cute and one hundred percent hashtag goals.

I heart London is definitely in the runnings for my favourite in the I Heart series. The main thought I’d had until this point about Angela was that I didn’t quite understand how she could just drop everything and move abroad and abandon her friends and family with no real explanation as to why. I had assumed from the first book when Angela’s mum stayed in her room after Louboutin-gate that they had a close relationship, and I never really understood her relationship with Louisa and her never telling Angela about Mark and his mistress. It was necessary at this point in the series to delve into who Angela was before she came to New York, and definitely put all her thoughts and feelings into proper context for me as a reader. Similarly, seeing Jenny so vulnerable throughout this book (and her being put in her place by Louisa which was a personal highlight), definitely made me appreciate her character much more than I had I previous instalments. Yes, I still don’t like her overall as a person, but after I Heart London I started to understand why she has certain flaws and how she can come across as quite harsh and controlling but that this is more of a front to protect herself.

I Heart Christmas was a little bit disappointing. As a self-professed Christmas enthusiast I was really excited for this one, but it didn’t feel as Christmassy as I’d hoped it would. I thought it was more just that the story happened to take place at Christmas, like Die Hard, and not a Christmas book in itself, so that was a bit of false advertising if you ask me. This story was, although enjoyable overall, a bit of a filler book. It was great seeing Angela’s magazine taking off and her becoming a career woman, and tackling the issue of whether women can have a career and a family which is relevant for so many women still, Angela’s treatment of Alex over the issue of having children was horribly selfish and really put me off her for a while. I don’t think it’s right at all to call a woman selfish for wanting a career instead of a family, and I think all women should be able to have full control over that decision, but I do think she maybe should’ve cleared that up with Alex before rushing into marrying him, and she seemed generally incapable of having an adult conversation about it so I got a bit bored of her constant pouting. Also, she really needs to stop taking advice from Jenny because she’s even worse.

I Heart Forever is the latest, and as far as I’m aware not the final, instalment of the series and is tied with I Heart London for my favourite one. This one seemed to have a great balance between career drama, friendship drama and relationship drama so I didn’t feel like any of the plots were being dragged out further than they needed to be, which has been the case with some of the earlier books. Once again, we find Jenny being a selfish bitch, this time about getting engaged, but Angela does seem to grow a backbone at this point and challenges her a bit which I did enjoy. Seeing Angela trying to deal with various crises without Alex was an interesting change of pace as well, as I hadn’t seen Angela single since about chapter three of I Heart New York, so it definitely helped the reader appreciate her as the leading lady. I’m really liking Angela’s parents playing more of a role in the story now as well, as a nice reminder of where she came from and why she does and thinks certain things.

On balance, although this is generally a more negative review than I like to write and I feel really guilty about this, I did generally enjoy the series as a whole. I wouldn’t recommend reading them as standalones, apart from possibly the first one, because I don’t think the characters can be seen to their full potential in any of the books without the context of all the others. I am looking forward to the next part of the series and to see how Angela tackles motherhood, hopefully she matures a bit more but probably won’t if Jenny is still kicking about at this point. I do think this series would make a very successful couple of films if the filler plots were cut out – if done correctly I think Angela Clark has the potential to be the millennials’ answer to Bridget Jones. Even though I rolled my eyes when Jenny went back to Craig for the umpteenth time, and tutted at Angela for being such a brat when she’s wedding planning at home in I Heart London, I understood why those two characters would behave like that within those situations. Too many authors create characters that are overly perfect and immediately get you on their side, so you can never really look at them objectively and unpick them. Until recently, it was a massive taboo to point out what a massive selfish bitch Carrie Bradshaw is, because we were all expected to want to be her and were too busy ogling over her sex life and wardrobe to step back and realise that she wasn’t living this perfect fantasy life; so it has to be said here that Lindsey Kelk does do character depth extremely well and even though you don’t always like them, you still enjoy reading about them. Overall, I’d give this series a 3/5; worth a read but I wouldn’t personally put myself out to make time to read it.

Review: Victory for the Shipyard Girls

Writing a book review without spoilers is very near impossible, but what’s the point of bigging something up and telling everyone why they should be reading it and then ruining the excitement of plot twists? So, I’m going to try my best to explain why I love this saga so much and persuade everyone to go out and buy it so I can have somebody to enthuse with; without revealing any major plot points. Sigh. Here goes.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while, as The Shipyard Girls is currently my favourite book series (having binged them all earlier this year while I was on holiday), but the latest instalment: ‘Victory for the Shipyard Girls’ is published today so it felt like a more apt time to start some Shipyard Girls hype. I actually got my copy at the weekend because I’m so very special, or Waterstones are just extremely organised with their pre-orders being shipped (probably the latter), so I spent last Saturday curled up with my trusty squad of Women Welders and, as usual, I loved every page of it. It’s really difficult to review individual books when they’re part of a series, even more so when you’re me and tend to binge a whole saga in one go, so this review is going to be a more general review of the series and explanation as to why I love it so much. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, part of my current job entails overseeing a local library so I spend a large portion of my day talking about books (aka living the dream), and other staff have given me a bit of stick for going on about how much I love The Shipyard Girls, with one person coining the series as ‘one of those old lady books’. I know you’re only as old as you feel, but at twenty four I don’t generally class myself as an ‘old lady’, or indeed as a lady most of the time, so I can say with a reasonable degree of confidence that these are not exclusively ‘old lady books’.

I started the series with fairly low expectations – they’re always promoted in my local Waterstones and I was after a new book for my 24 hour round trip to America, so it seemed to fit the bill, but I was absolutely hooked before the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign had gone off. The story takes place in Sunderland which is possibly why it appealed to me – there are few things more exciting than media references to your entirely unremarkable home town and I still get a little thrill when I read about these characters exploring the streets and landmarks around which I grew up. Having said that, I wouldn’t go as far as saying this series is a favourite because it’s directly relatable to me – since it takes place during the Second World War. I am somewhat of a history nerd, but again I wouldn’t say that is the main appeal of this series, because ultimately I think Nancy Revell could write this group of girls into any time period – from the Stone Age to a post-apocalyptic world after Trump inevitably destroys us all, and you would still immediately feel like they’re friends you’ve known for years after three or four pages.

Strong characters and a good plot are the foundation of any decent read, and it certainly seems like Nancy Revell knows how to do both to the nth degree. The character development is so striking but at the same time so well paced that you don’t notice it happening until it hits you in the face (in the best way). Having had a break between finishing the first four books and waiting for the fifth to be published, I now want to go back to April Me and say ‘guess what happens with Helen?’ or ‘You’ll never guess how things pan out with Gloria and Jack!’ and April Me would be absolutely blown away. And it’s not just the depth of detail within the characters that makes the reader get so invested, but their qualities; I am rooting for every single one of these women (except Miriam, bitch), even Helen and Pearl who I absolutely hated at the start. Each of them has such a rich and complex back story that you can’t help but love them, and they’re all so ferociously strong, overcoming ridiculous traumas and obstacles while trying to make space for themselves in a male dominated world that I just want to blast Christina Aguilera’s ‘Fighter’ and shout “yessssss, queens!” from the Wearmouth Bridge. Don’t get me wrong, relatable book characters are fine, hell, Bridget Jones would make the list for my fantasy dinner party, but what makes a story better than fine are characters who are not just relatable to the reader but those who also have a real strength and endurance to them that makes you think ‘wow, she is bad ass and I wish I was that fierce’.

As a self affirmed lover of ‘chick lit’ (I embrace that term, see earlier blog post, I don’t see any level of shame or guilt in it), this series is a really great palette cleanser as it has all the crucial elements of chick lit – initial heartache but eventually winning the man, strong friendships, tears, male leads that make all our boyfriends seem inadequate; but it’s all happening in a totally different context. It’s chick lit but without the lead female being a journalist in London or a shy waitress in a village tearoom – these girls are discussing their relationship issues over live welds while literally bending metal to put ships together that ultimately defeat Hitler. That’s a little bit different to your average Paige Toon or Jill Mansell (not that I don’t still love those two authors all the same!). Plus, this story isn’t centered around one girl and her secondary character friends; there is no Kelly or Michelle in Thompson’s shipyard – everyone is Beyonce in the Women Welders squad. All the characters are central, which allows for so many intertwined stories, and is ultimately what I think makes this story last over so many books without coming close to feeling tired or done, and it could easily continue over at least another few.

Well, if you aren’t convinced at this point that this series is worth trying out then I give up. Who doesn’t love some heartache and bitchy backstabbing drama peppered with strong friendships and Feminist overtones throughout? I am actually so obsessed with this series that I really wish it would be made into a TV drama; and I have never said that about any book ever – usually nothing upsets me more than a beloved book being made into a film or TV series because they’re always sub-par (I’m looking at you, Girl on the Train) – but The Shipyard Girls is so intensely great that even a half-arsed TV version would still be amazing – though I don’t think Nancy Revell would allow such an injustice. And neither would I, unless I wasn’t cast to play Rosie…

The Shipyard Girls is best enjoyed with coffee and cake in a big comfy chair.