Tag: book review

Creative Reading

I was particularly, especially, thrilled to be invited to read some of my work at the December 2023 ‘Wintertide’ festival arranged by the Mandy Apple Collective – imaginative, enthusiastic, talented creatives in Scarborough. Thanks to Nell Williams for the invite and the other writers who performed on the night. Honestly, they were such an inspiration of funny, thought provoking, poignant. A lovely night.

 I was ‘especially’ happy about the invitation because I certainly needed energy and vision of other writers. My writing was/is going through a dry period. I have no trouble finding words, or indeed stories, but stories with a satisfying arc alluded me. (Thanks to Matt Cooper for the photo).

As Christmas came and went I tried to ignore the growing anxiety and even resentfulness of feeling writing as a nagging chore. Partly because my partner bought me an all-course pass for BBC Maestro and I do like a course to busy myself with. I typically got a stack of books (of course). Also, it was Christmas – a break right? Maybe it was just time to give up writing? But then my fabulous friend Fin McMorran who makes amazing art and animations reminded me that we do what we do because of the joy in it. Not for audience, or reward or some external thing but for the fun and somewhere along the way, I’d lost the thrill of finding just exactly the right word and the surprise when a story takes an unexpected turn. Writing is fabulous fun –playing with imaginary friends in games I make up in my imaginary playground is the best! (Thanks for the reminder Fin).

Reading inspires me and once again the Guardian had a ‘Books to look out for in 2024’ feature. Way back in 2019 I decided to review their review of ‘books to look forward to’ for the forthcoming year. I chose their suggested books for every month across the year and though the list was ‘partial’ to say the least (see my analysis of the data drawn from their suggested list) it was actually a reading adventure. I read a great many books I would just not have picked up at Waterstones. The new 2024 Guardian list was as good a place as any to look for inspiration.

The Guardian recommendations for January included The Vulnerables. By Sigrid Nunez (Virago) and I Seek a Kind Person: My Father, Seven Children and the Adverts That Helped Them Escape the Holocaust by Julian Borger (John Murray).

The Vulnerables has been richly reviewed by Sam Byers in the Guardian and, for the most part, any words I might write about it would echo theirs but I will add that I enjoyed it. It is written in an unusual style. A writer, talking about changes to their way of life in the context of lockdown, wonders if any kind of literature still serves us in uncertain times.

It was a good one to start the year with and kick started a reading binge. So far this month I have read six books and discarded a seventh quarter of the way through. (I haven’t yet started the Borger book – it is next on my list).

Books read in January

  • The Vulnerables by Sigrid Nunez (Virago)
  • 61 Hours by Lee Child (Random House)
  • The Last List of Mabel Beaumont by Laura Pearson (Boldwood Books)
  • Spare by Prince Harry (Penguin Random House)
  • After That Night by Karen Slaughter (Harper Collins)
  • The Bad Weather Friend by Dean Koontz (advance copy) (Thomas and Mercer)
  • Meditation by Marcus Aurelius (Penguin Random House)

The one I gave up was the Karen Slaughter. My tolerance for violence against women and misogyny in crime novels is thoroughly exhausted. I listened to ’61 Hours’ as an audio book. I have not, in the past, taken to audio books but gave this title a go specifically to listen to the way the story is written, for the techniques, for the craft. It was a useful exercise listening rather than reading it, but also, I had forgotten what ripping yarns Lee Child writes and what an amazing character Jack Reacher is.

Stephen King and Lee Child (amongst many others) say that good writers must be committed readers. Each encourage an eclectic approach to the reading choices we make. I think my list would count as eclectic! For the record, mock if you will, I really enjoyed ‘Spare’ and have completely changed my opinion of HRH Harry – in a positive direction.

I am never sure how inspiration actually works but I started writing a story – it is a ploddy mess but woke up one morning with a flash of ‘this is what it needs’ and am enjoying re-writing it. I also committed to doing two new (paid) pieces of writing to an April deadline and there is nothing like a deadline to motivate.

I wouldn’t say my writing mojo is fully back (though I am writing a blog post for the first time in *ahem* a while) but I am thoroughly enjoying curating an abundant reading list which is a fabulous place to re-find fun in the written word.

Queer Spaces Live! Its back!!!

Note: In March 2022 Roots Touring company gave me the opportunity to write and perform my own work as part of their ‘Queer Spaces Live!’ show. It was such a wonderful experience. I wrote about it here

‘Queer Spaces Live!’ is back this year at both the Stephen Joseph Theatre Scarborough on 22nd February  and York Theatre Royal on 3rd March.

I know it will be absolutely fabulous. Book tickets before they all go!

March ‘book to look forward to’: Invisible Women: Exposing data bias in a world designed for men. Caroline Criado Perez

(Chatto).  Kindle edition downloaded 7 March 2019, £9.99

The brief book description added on the Literary Review Calendar of ‘books to look forward to’ for March said:

‘The activist and journalist on the discriminatory consequences of men being treated as the default and women as atypical, in a book that casts new light on homes, workplaces and public buildings’.

Feminism and I unexpectedly tripped over each other in the early 1980’s and without getting into major biography, feminism changed every single element of my existence with enormous and enduring impact. Through the 80’s and 90’s I read every feminist book I could get hold of hitting strident radical outrage and non-violent direct action along the way. For the past 20 or so years, having bought the many and varied t-shirts (some of which have now become cleaning cloths – oh the irony) my interest in such books waned. I read the books I needed to read for my professional life dutifully, to ensure my power-points stayed relevant and current but I had mellowed beyond outrage and indeed, slogan t-shirts. I chose this book from the March ‘books to look forward to’ list because of the others in the non-fiction group it looked a) the least dull and b) my semi-un-conscious bias kicked in.

Everything about this book is quite simply wonderful.

This assertion might be dismissed with a roll of an eye and a weary ‘of course you would say that’ but in fact, the opposite would be true.  I am a well-read feminist and I have read some turkey’s, which frankly did the women’s movement(s) no favors, but this is very certainly not one of them.  I have read enough to know the difference and I loved this book! 

The book considers the absence of women in the data that defines and shapes the algorithms, policies, designs and laws in the world, our understanding of them across time. It considers our lives, opportunities and dangers inherent in it – and by ‘ours’ she means all humans. The ones most disadvantaged by the absence of women in data are of course women who have equipment which doesn’t fit or cannot be safely used because it is not made for their bodies, who cannot use public transport because the standard use which informs timetable planning is that of the male commuter and does not take account of carer responsibility and so very many other examples across the home, the workplace and in general public life. The book makes clear, however, that all of society are disadvantaged by the uni-focused narrative of male defined data sets.

The book has potential to be a preachy call to arms but it is not – Perez manages to make this eminently readable book engaging, humorous and informative.  She takes us to the heart of how we understand our world and in doing so highlights false assumptions and the absence of other perspectives.  At one point she asks (a little tongue in cheek) whether women are even human at all!  Her question comes from analysis of data about the evolution of humankind being predicated on understanding of the centrality of ‘man the hunter’.  What were women doing when humankind was being built, (allegedly), by hunters?  Do we even fit into this narrative and if so, in what ways do we influence that prevailing story?  She gives another example of a warrior skeleton being steadfastly identified and labeled as a male by museum curators, despite indisputable DNA bone analysis showing she was a female, simply on the grounds that she was found with weapons and high ranking afterlife kit.  They apparently were unable to comprehend the notion of a high-ranking warrior woman and so refused to believe it.  In doing so, the educative purpose of the museum is shamefully compromised and yet again, women are denied the opportunity to know our history.  Perez, sadly gives example after example after example.

This book is exhausting reading. It is hard not to have one’s feminist fury re-ignited by it.

Fury – rightful as it may be – is not the most useful outcome of this work. It is a very well considered, well researched, evidence based discussion. I hope it can contribute now to a broader discussion which always, always, always considers ways in which data is defined only by a male view with female perspectives being either silenced or ‘othered’. If we want to understand and learn and plan in the most healthy and positive ways for humanity and our planet we need the best data and this means inclusive data that from which male bias is eradicated. I am taking a wild guess about which gender(s) are the most likely to take this opportunity on board…

Note all images copywrite Chatto

  • Personal anecdote: I once worked in a secure mental health environment.  The women complained they wanted paper towels back because the newly installed, air-blow hand driers had been fitted by a six foot three maintenance man. When the women tried to use the too-high driers, it caused water from their hands to run down their arms and make their sleeves soggy.  I have noticed ever since how stupid-high most air blowers are in women’s toilets.