A new review of Northanger Abbey (part 1 of The Austen Series)

I'm an unashamed fan of Jane Austen and my only regret is that she didn't write more than the six novels she left behind as a legacy.

For the past 20 or so years, I've read and re-read Pride and Prejudice the most (I estimate I probably read it over 35 times), followed fairly closely by Emma, then Persuasion, then Sense and Sensibility. I read Mansfield Park perhaps twice, and Northanger Abbey only once, because the two heroines Fanny Price and Catherine Morland annoyed me with their passivity and lack of wit - so unlike my favourite Elizabeth Bennett!

Anyway, having done a re-read of all her six works in recent months, I've decided to review them all through fresh eyes. Let's start with the one least travelled by.

Northanger Abbey

Perhaps more than any of her other books, re-reading this one surprised me the most because I realised my memory of it was so imperfect and prejudiced. I probably read it for the first time at around age 16, so coming back to it two decades later gave me an entirely new perspective.

I realised that Austen was doing something completely different with this book than her others. It's not just a straightforward novel - it's in fact a tongue-in-cheek parody of the gothic novels that were so popular at the time. It pokes fun of gothic sensibilities - the expectation of dark horrors in every empty wing of a large estate - through the very virginal and supremely innocent eyes of Catherine (Kitty) Morland. So influenced is she by these novels, that she makes a fool of herself in front of Henry Tilney, the love interest in the book.

The interesting thing about Northanger Abbey is how the tone is so different from her usual slightly detached but affectionate and wry narrative voice. There's something almost comedic in her tone, and this really saves the book from becoming insipid. I have to admit I missed it the first time and found it quite unlikeable. Because Kitty is so witless and innocent, it's easy to mistake Northanger Abbey as the same, but I found a new enjoyment of it this time and was much more charmed by it than before.

Prospect Park West, Amy Sohn: book review

I have to apologise for the brevity and vagueness of this review, but I read this book around two months ago and just haven't had the chance to blog about it. However I'm resolved to review all the books I read as part of the Great Library Challenge so I'll try to dig into the recesses of my memory and give a quick review.

Prospect Park West is about first-time moms in a particularly yuppie area of Brooklyn that seems overly populated with young at-home mothers. There's bored and sex-starved Rebecca who laments her glamorous old life, 'hasbian' Lizzie whose lesbian tendencies begin to return as her husband's work-related absences increase, freakily intense Karen who will stop at nothing to get a Prospect Park West postcode for her son, and beautiful but insecure movie star Melora, whose entire life, including her adopted child, seems to be a public relations exercise.

The story is fast-paced and laced with a dark wit that's not exactly mean-spirited, but far from kind in its portrayal of at-home mums. The characters swing between the type that's obsessed by their kids (Karen) to the mum who almost seems to fear being in the same room alone with their child (Melora), but in every case there's some type of self-destructive behaviour linked to a sense of lost personal identity stemming from the birth (or adoption) of their child.

It's a theme that appears almost despite itself, as Sohn busies herself with witty observations and poking fun at her characters. The book seems to be in a rush to end, and certain storylines are left hanging and unresolved, so there's a sense of unfinished business at the end. Apparently Sohn is writing a sequel, but I doubt I'll be coming back for seconds.

Murder at the Academy Awards, Joan Rivers

Author R for the Great Library Challenge.

I've been somewhat fascinated by Joan Rivers since reading all the profiles and reviews that came in the wake of the documentary, Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work. What's most fascinating is that she's so candid about her desperation to be the centre of attention in Hollywood and her shameless antics for staying there.

With a career that literally spans decades in front of the camera, Ms Rivers has turned her hand to writing and along with Jerrilyn Farmer (the author of the Madeline Bean culinary mystery series) penned this novel, which I vaguely understand may be turned into a series.

In Murder at the Academy Awards, the protagonist Maxine Taylor is the extremely-thin veiled literary doppelganger of Rivers herself. She and her daughter Drew do what Rivers and her daughter Melissa do in real life: stalk celebrities on the red carpet for interviews as they head into the Academy Awards ceremony.

The mystery begins when one of Hollywood's brightest young starlets, who also happens to have been a close school friend of Drew's, drops dead on the red carpet mid-interview with Max Taylor. Very soon, Max is on the chase, using her wiles to enter rehab under false pretences and crash glamorous parties to find the murderer and clear her daughter's name.

It's an easy to read, light-hearted romp that basically expounds the cleverness of Max Taylor and her love for her daughter Drew. However, Rivers' sharp wit doesn't translate that well in written form, and many of the gags seem rather belaboured. It's all in the name of fun though, and if you can wade through the heavy name dropping and you don't mind the re-imagining of Hollywood with Rivers and her daughter as the nucleus, you may enjoy it.

Here's an interview with Rivers from Amazon editorial:


Q: What kinds of books do you enjoy?
A: At my age, anything in large print.

Q: Is it true when they say that you should “write what you know”?
A: Absolutely, which is why my next book is about having thighs that are visible from outer space.

Q: What is it like having a novel published at the age of 75?
A: I am so old, even the spine of my book has osteoporosis.

Q: Computer, typewriter or pen and paper. What tools did you use to write your first book? 
A: Chisel and stone.

Q: Are you one of those writers who work at home in a dirty old bathrobe without showering for days? 
A: Yes, except for the part about working at home.

Q: What’s the first step in getting a publisher interested in your book?
A: A check for fifty grand made out to “cash”.

Air Kisses, Zoe Foster

This is a hard review to write, because I really like Zoe Foster. She's the type of person I'd like to have as a friend.

I know she can write, because I follow her beauty blog at primped and I'm not even keen on beauty products. I read it because her posts are funny and informative. From what I can tell, she's funny, self-deprecating and rather charming, so I had high expectations for this book.

Air Kisses is about unlikely beauty editor Hannah Atkins, who works at Gloss magazine and is a thoroughly modern young woman. Like the best chicklit heroines, she's not too highly polished. She's a little klutzy, well grounded and pretty-despite-herself (we know this because of the number of times she spills food on her clothes, and is informed by other characters how adorable she is).

The book starts with Hannah getting dumped by her hunky newsreader boyfriend, but we don't feel anything particularly about this because we (the readers) haven't met him. She then blunders through a number of unnecessary and unfulfilling relationships before ending up in the arms of the guy we knew she should be with all along, causing agonising tedium and predictability along the way.

Parts of the novel have Foster's own brand of charm (the little humorous asides and observations), but much of it is cluttered with unnecessary details that don't progress the plot, increase our understanding of the heroine or even act as a humorous anecdote. Case in point: something about toenail polish in a taxi and wearing strange slippers. Wha...?? It's like one of those times your friend tells you something HILARIOUS that happened to them and falls over laughing, but it's a you-had-to-be-there moment that loses its humour in the telling.

As a result, the book is way too long and meandering. The most satisfying bit, the part you wait for the entire book, is then shuffled into the last few paragraphs on the last page. The guy she ends up with is the only one she has practically no meaningful contact with throughout the book, which again leads to us not caring very much instead of oohing and aahing like we're supposed to.

Hannah as a heroine is mostly likeable but too weak to admire or aspire to, and every single stereotype you could possibly imagine in chicklit is represented here: the one-dimensional glossy working girls, the supportive best friend, the gay pal who gives bitchy advice, the good-looking guy who falls in love with the heroine, the second good-looking guy who falls in love with the heroine... you've seen them all and you've seen them better.

The best part of the book are the little beauty editorial bits that begin each chapter. For example, did you know that you can kill a cold sore with nail polish remover? 

As I've said, I know Zoe Foster can write. What I think she needs is a good editor to bounce the plot, pacing and characters off. It's like this book came straight from her computer without the necessary shuffling and editing and re-editing that a good book needs. There are lots of examples but the one I can think of off the top of my head is where Hannah wryly mentions that her best friend's word of the month is 'fierce', but she only uses it once, then Hannah uses it several times throughout the book herself in the narrative. I know it's a little thing, but it's these sorts of inconsistencies repeated that the editor is meant to pick up on. Someone needs to be ruthless with the manuscript to turn it into good reading material.

With Air Kisses, the bare bones are there but they haven't been sculpted into anything worthwhile. Just, unfortunately, more blah in a genre overloaded with it already.

The Shopaholic Series - 3-in-1 review, Sophie Kinsella (The Great Library Challenge author K)

When I got to K in my great library challenge, I decided to go with Sophie Kinsella because her novels are so hugely popular and I wanted to know what the big deal was.

I have to admit that my expectations were low. So very sadly low, reflecting the state of chicklit, in my opinion. Good ones are very few and far between. But Kinsella delivers on every count: slightly dizzy but very endearing character? Check. Romance? Check. Funny-slash-disastrous situations that make you laugh? Double and triple check. And this is where the books really win out: Kinsella has masterful comic timing and uses it to great effect.

The heroine is the shopaholic herself: disaster-prone Becky Bloomwood, who starts off in the first book (The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic (also published as Confessions of a Shopaholic)) as a bored journalist at a money magazine who is unable to curtail her love of shopping, despite threatening letters from the bank and maxed out store cards. She's irresponsible and a bit ostriche-head-in-sand when it comes to finances, leading her into impending disaster, which of course she'll bounce out of better than ever, and with a super-hot boyfriend to boot.

What did you expect? I told you it was chicklit, right?

In the second novel, Shopaholic Takes Manhattan, her adventures take her to the Big Apple, where super-hot boyfriend Luke Brandon is starting a new branch of his super-successful business. But her super-spending (amongst other things) takes their relationship to the brink of disaster, which she deftly handles in the end, learning a little something along the way.

In the third novel, Shopaholic Ties the Knot, Becky digs herself further and further into a hole with her dithering as Luke comes to terms with his feelings for his birth mother, and two weddings are organised in different continents on the same day.

I have to admit, if Becky was my friend I'd give her a good shake and a talking to, because common sense seems to elude her until she's forced into a position to make good, but it does make for great comic fodder. And despite her dithering and disaster-proneness, she has a good heart. By the end of each novel she seems to grow and develop in character, but at the start of the next novel, she stumbles again, which is probably actually very realistic but could be frustrating if you cared too much.

There are classic chicklit elements that could get tiresome awfully fast (like the impossibly good looking and successful boyfriend, the ability to fall head over ass into good fortune), but Kinsella reinforces Becky's underdog status, ensuring that she remains endearing and flawed, and thus relatable.

In certain respects, Shopaholic reminded me of Bridget Jones's Diary, as Sophie Kinsella and Helen Fielding appear to have very similar comic sensibilities. Personally I think they're both really good writers (which shows in their books), and thankfully they redeem the overwhelming hovel of crap that chicklit tends to attract. Their heroines are larger than life versions of ourselves, and their adventures have a bigger arc with greater romantic rewards than you'd find in reality, which make them a great escape.

I'd highly recommend the Shopaholic series for light reading, suitable for holidays, on the beach, in-flight and when you're feeling down and need a pick up. I only meant to read one but ended up reading three!

There are three more books out now (Shopaholic and Sister, Shopaholic and  Baby and Mini-Shopaholic) but I think I'll space them out to avoid overdosing. Thank goodness for Christmas holidays!

Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert: book and movie review (also the Great Library Challenge author G)

Eat Pray Love the book

It wasn't the easiest thing to get into and I must admit I would've left it only half-finished if the movie wasn't coming out so soon. However, I'm glad I finished it because the latter half was better than the first.

It's as though Elizabeth Gilbert distilled her personal diary to write this book – it has the intimacy and warmth of someone not holding anything back, but it's also very beautifully written so you know she's crafted her words and stories carefully to bring the best of her experience to paper.

I started off skeptical – after all, it's about a privileged New Yorker running out on her marriage and real life to spend a year in exotic locations 'finding herself' – but I ended up won over. It's not just about her running away, but also running towards. She's seeking something more than herself (God) while seeking to find herself, and it becomes a spiritual journey where, by the end, she discovers contentment and a self-identity that she seems not to have had before. Who can argue with that?

Eat Pray Love the movie

Despite the presence of Julia Roberts and the lush international scenery, Eat Pray Love doesn't really work as a movie because ultimately the story is boring to watch on screen. It's such an intimate spiritual journey that most of the action happens in the interior, which doesn't translate well to an audience who expects a climactic movie experience.

Apart from the breakdown of her marriage in the beginning, there are no major highs or lows – it's all a very linear journey of self-discovery. At times, especially the beginning, the movie felt like a string of 'this is a re-enactment' scenes from a reality TV show – especially the use of that hazy filter and backlighting the first time she goes to Bali. Then the showdown scene between her and Felipe (Javier Bardem) at the end just didn't ring true to me at all. Maybe it's because it didn't happen in the book, but I was totally prepared for them to deviate from the plot of the book (in fact I expected it), but even then the whole scene seemed rather a false attempt to create some dynamic in an otherwise flat movie plot.

My conclusion

I thought that the critics were unduly harsh about the story when the first movie reviews came out, but I can see why they would have come to that conclusion now. In the movie, you don't get the full in-depth experience that you do with the book, so it's easy to overlook the whole thing as the self-indulgent whims of a Western woman.

In fact to be honest, that's how I first felt when the book topped all the bestseller lists and caused such a scene in the book-reading world. I avoided it for a long time and only decided to read it finally because I watched Elizabeth Gilbert's TED talk and thought she sounded awfully wise and well-grounded.

After reading her book, I'm more convinced of that assessment. It is a wise book, full of lessons learned and lots of humour too. She has a great writing voice, and there were a lot of moments that resonated with me as a reader, which I'm sure is why the book was so popular.

Now onto H of my Great Library Challenge. I decided on Matt Haig and wanted to read The Radleys, but the library didn't have it so I'm now waiting for my book to arrive from the Book Depository. Any suggestions for an author beginning with 'I' would be appreciated because Surry Hills library only has a single short shelf for I, which consists of approximately 11 books only. Help!

Badly cobbled fiction

Badly written fiction is so disappointing. Yes I'm looking at you, Alyson Noel. I recently read her chicklit book Fly Me to the Moon, and I'd be hard pressed to think of 2 more painful hours passed in recent history. The characters were stereotyped, the narrative amateurish and the climax LAME LAME LAME.

So why did I keep reading? If the whole thing was crappy I would've trashed it faster than last year's ballet flats, but it was just humorous enough, just romantic enough, just interesting enough that I read it through. In my defence, I speed read it. And I didn't have any other books on hand, having just finished my two most recent purchases. And I bought it for $3.95 at a discount book store. But I wish to God I'd just bought myself another Easy Way bubble tea with the money instead.

Enough excuses. Back to badly written fiction. It's disappointing because we expect publishers and editors to weed out the trash for us, but we should know from experience that publishers aren't always known for their literary taste, but their shark-like ability to smell money in the water. That leads me to the chicklit genre. Where there is demand, there will always be a scramble to supply, and I think this is how something like Fly Me to the Moon gets published. It has a hook (the heroine is a flight attendant so we get a sneak peek behind the matronly hair and polyester uniforms), it ostensibly has a plot (she finds her soon-to-be fiance in bed with another man and now has to rebuild her life), it has sex (modest scenes but at least we know the heroine has a libido) and most importantly in chicklit, the heroine is the underdog - the type of girl who trips over and embarrasses herself, who is attracted to but simultaneously hates the obvious hero for some perceived slight, and who has a sense of humour. Someone we might all relate to.

In short, it ticks all the right boxes. But it still sucks. Despite adhering to formula, despite falling into a popular genre and being possibly no worse than other crappy books (and there are a LOT in chicklit), this book fails because it's badly cobbled together. The heroine might travel to romantic faraway places but ultimately, it's like the teenage romance in which the guy brings his sister to the dance but the girl mistakes it as a date and throws punch in his face. Only worse and even more lame because this heroine is meant to be an adult.

The troubling thing is, Alyson Noel can write. No doubt if she wrote short stories and articles they would be a good read, but sustaining a whole novel proved too much for her with this storyline. This could have been a much better book with a better editor. Someone to tell her that the crux of the plot is lame, to give depth to her characters and cut out the more meandering parts of the novel.

Perhaps it's only in my romantic imagination that editors still do that sort of work? Refiners, so to speak, of published works. Because not all good writers make good novelists. And bad novelists write bad fiction. And bad fiction = cranky readers. Like me.

Curse of the Spellmans

This is the second book in the Spellman series by Lisa Lutz, and it's just as funny as the first one, The Spellman Files.

Isabelle Spellman now has her eye on John Brown, the new next-door neighbour who, with his 'conveniently common name' evidently has a secret to hide. When a temporary restraining order bars her from the Spellman offices, she turns to her octogenarian friend Morty Shilling to help save her PI licence whilst getting to the bottom of the John Brown mystery, keeping younger sister Rae from driving policeman friend Henry crazy after having run him over, and finding the copy-cat culprits of a series of pranks that bear her own juvenile trademark.

I'm now a big fan of Lisa Lutz's writing and can't wait to receive the third part of the series, Revenge of the Spellmans, which I've ordered from the Book Depository. The Spellmans are pure comic relief that relies on wit rather than farce. Highly recommended reading.

The Bride Stripped Bare, Anonymous (Nikki Gemmell)

The Bride Stripped Bare delivers what the title promises: complete and explicit disclosure on the most intimate thoughts of a new bride. After overhearing a conversation implicating her husband in an affair with her best friend, the anonymous bride (whom everyone considers 'the good wife') embarks on a journey of sexual liberation in some pretty lit-erotic scenes.

The book purports to be a manuscript written by the bride, a modern day parallel to a sixteenth century text called Woman's Worth, also a manuscript of liberation written by an anonymous housewife. Using a very intimate second-person narration (‘Your husband doesn't know you're writing this. It's quite easy to write it under his nose. Just as easy, perhaps, as sleeping with other people.’) in a series of 'lessons' (instead of chapters), the writing is lyrical and even almost poetic at times. It conveys the sensitivity and insecurities of the anonymous bride, even as she revels in living out her sexual fantasies in a range of illicit activities.

The author (now outed as Nikki Gemmell) said she published the book as anonymous because it allowed her to write without reservation or embarrassment (although she's now had plenty of both, as well as royalties to boot). I can see why that might be – it’s easy to assume that she’s channeling her own sexual fantasies and living vicariously through her character. But to her credit, the book has more depth than just ‘the sex parts’. The bride struggles to contain her conflicting desires – her love for her husband (who doesn’t fulfill her sexually) and engaging in an adulterous affair (which meets her every sexual need) – and it is this internal struggle that lies at the core of The Bride Stripped Bare. It's the age old question of Madonna or whore – submissive wife or sexual aggressor – told using a different perspective.

One big thing that I don't think works in this book is the 'grab' that sandwiches the contents – we are informed that the bride has suddenly disappeared. It's intriguing at first, but ultimately it's a flimsy device that doesn't quite have the intended effect because her disappearance isn't anchored to any event in the book, leaving us with a big ‘huh?’ at the end.

The Bride Stripped Bare is like reading the journal of an extremely insecure and confused 30-something woman – something that many chicklit readers may relate to and enjoy. Personally I couldn't relate to the character's point in life at all, but still enjoyed the book. Recommended.

The Spellman Files, Lisa Lutz

I like my comedies funny, and bookwise, they don't get much funnier than this. The kooky Spellmans are a family of private investigators (Spellman Investigations) who are completely and utterly endearing. Mum and Dad Spellman fell in love over a stake-out many years ago and the kids grew up learning how to pick locks, tail suspects and solve mysteries.

Lisa Lutz's narrative voice is pitch-perfect as Izzy (Isabelle) Spellman, 30-year old wild-child with a perfect lawyer brother and adorably precocious younger sister. Izzy considers herself the family screw-up, but it's obvious to see the PI genes run thick in her blood, as she's not afraid to get into some tough corners to solve a case.

You'd be excused in thinking that Izzy may have ADHD, because the book has chapters and sections that seem to jump all over the place, but the underlying thread being unravelled is the story of the Spellmans through Izzy's eyes, and her place in the family. When baby sister Rae goes missing, she is launched into the most personal case of her life.

The Spellman Files is highly recommended if you like a laugh and are in the mood for a quick and funny read. There are two sequels: Curse of the Spellmans and Revenge of the Spellmans, both of which I've ordered from the Book Depository, so expect to hear more about the Spellmans from me.

You may also enjoy:

• The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, Alexander McCall-Smith
• The Stephanie Plum series, Janet Evanovich

Love and Punishment, Wendy Harmer

The heroine of Love and Punishment, written by comedian-turned-author Wendy Harmer, is an everygirl called Francie – a normal, not overly-ambitious, somewhat mousy agony aunt columnist, who is dumped by her long-term boyfriend Nick, an aspiring actor. Having supported him for years and ready to bear his child, Francie is devastated when he takes up with cougar Poppy Sommerville-Smith, the doyenne of Australian film and theatre. Pushed to the wall, Francie finally breaks out and takes revenge – a breathtakingly nasty piece of revenge.

Love and Punishment is a humorous book that is easy to read and has a refreshing approach to chicklit – rather than the usual empty-headed love story with impossibly attractive characters, this realistically frazzled heroine is seriously pissed off and needs to learn how to deal with this huge impact point in her life. There are no obvious goodies and baddies, just people trying to live life, find love and make their way in the world.

Although at times Harmer's writing slips into 'telling not showing' (a flaw for many first-time writers), Love and Punishment is an enjoyable quick read, and Francie's journey is both humorously and poignantly developed. Recommended reading for people who enjoy a bit of quality chicklit.

Village bride of Beverly Hills, Kavita Daswani

Like a cleaned up Bollywood version of The Devil Wears Prada, The Village Bride of Beverly Hills is about a young woman thrust virtually unwillingly into a glamorous high-flying career in the magazine world. The hook in this novel, however, is that the heroine is a young Indian bride in LA - a genuinely nice person who, through a series of somewhat unbelievable events, is led to the career she's always wanted. Leaving her saris behind, Priya becomes a hot new name in the media world and is forced into a double life which she hides from her very traditional new in-laws and rather diffident husband.

Kavita Daswani does a nice job with this light-hearted story, but the lack of realism and extremely light attempt to portray Priya's emotional growth prevent it from being a work of any substance.

Rating: A passable afternoon read.

Vince and Joy, Lisa Jewell

Another (less trustworthy) book blogger said of this book, 'can't get better than', but I think it'd be a sad day for readers everywhere if that really was the case. Vince and Joy is a book about fated love, but the main characters are hardly the star-crossed lovers they're made out to be. There's no passion, no excitement - it's like a very mundane, drawn out car ride to a destination we all know we're going to (no surprises there), but the driver's trying to hype up the ride. If the events they faced between the time they first met until they finally get together at the end actually developed or formed their characters in any way, it might be a more forgivable book... interesting even. But that's not the case - they're the same wet people they were at 19 (when they first lost their virginity to one another) as they are when they finally meet again almost 20 years later. A very drawn out process for very little reward.

31 Dream Street, Lisa Jewell

Verdict: funny and charming light reading. While definitely falling into the chick-lit genre, 31 Dream Street doesn't try to be swanky or ultra-modern, nor does it mistake sex for sexy, and its heroes are anything but all of the above.

Toby is an unpublished (read 'failed') poet and gentle soul who rents out the rooms of his beautiful but run-down house in London to artists and down-and-outers who need a place to lay their heads in the in-between periods of their lives. His current occupants include Ruby, the wannabe rockstar, Joanne, the mysterious out-of-work actor, Con, the postboy who longs to be a pilot, Con's mum Melinda, and the ancient and unkown Gus.

Across the road lives Leah Pilgrim, a thorougly capable, intelligent and curious person whose interest is piqued by the strange comings and going at the house across the road. Through circumstance and death, the balance of Toby's house is disturbed and he turns to Leah for assistance - suddenly he is forced to go against his sense of propriety and meddle in the lives of his tenants to help them move forward and leave their sanctuary - whether this means finding love, facing their past or just plain growing up.

31 Dream Street is a gentle and funny read that had me smiling and even laughing out loud along the way. The plot is not dramatic but manages to keep up a good pace so it's easy to read and easily enjoyable. The secondary characters are a little one-dimensional, but Toby and Leah are wonderfully drawn and wholly believable. This novel probably won't win any major prizes, but it may just win your heart.

Three Wishes, Liane Moriarty

This is a homegrown novel about the Kettle triplets who live very different lives right here in Sydney. There's strong-willed Cat who discovers that her husband has been unfaithful, super-organised Lyn whose glossy magazine lifestyle comes at the expense of silent panic attacks, and flighty Gemma whose serial monogamy hides a deeper secret.

The book begins at a restaurant where the girls have gathered to celebrate their 34^th birthdays, when an argument ensues – one throws a fondue fork which lands in her pregnant sister's stomach and promptly faints, breaking her jaw. The third sister calmly calls the ambulance. From this point on, we're taken back to the events that led to this incident.

Liane Moriarty's writing is smooth and unhurried, slowly unfolding memories and anecdotes that fill out the story and pace the plot steadily and incrementally. In between chapters are little snippets offering random third-party viewpoints about the girls, ensuring that the book is never too insular. I'm not sure that this literary device really works (at times it can be distracting from the main plot) but at least it's interesting and gives some food for thought as to how ordinary people can impact those around them without ever knowing it.

Three Wishes omits the fairy-tale element present in so much of modern chick-literature and I think is a better novel for it. A very enjoyable warm read.

Then She Found Me, Elinor Lipman

Imagine you grew up as part of a loving adopted family. Your adoptive parents pass away (they were pretty old) and suddenly you're contacted by Kerri-Ann Kennerly. She says you're her long-lost daughter, torn from her tender 17 year-old bosom, and now she wants a relationship with you.

This is the situation that faces April Epner, protagonist of Then She Found Me. April is a realist - a quiet school teacher who isn't interested in fashion or fortune. Her birth mother, it transpires, is a flashy fashionista who hosts a third-rate talk show and loves fame and all its trappings. Having reached a 'certain point' in her life, Bernice makes contact with her only child, which is the catalyst that sets the story in motion.

Elinor Lipman is an old hand at bringing everyday, flawed characters to life, and she does so again with true mastery in Then She Found Me. Bernice is wonderfully drawn and colourful as a conflicted drama queen who wants to redeem herself with April, despite the selfishness with which she's lived the past 36 years since giving her up. There's also a surprising love interest for April, and only Lipman could make this guy endearing so that you're actually rooting for him.

Then She Found Me is written with a great balance of light wit and deep pathos, and recommended for people who don't need Hollywood excesses in their stories (tear-jerking dramatics, violin-inducing romance, etc).

Oh and yes, it's Helen Hunt and Bette Midler you see in the image. Helent Hunt both directs and plays April in the movie version, and it's pretty good. Low key. Midler's great.

The Jane Austen Book Club, book review

My third read in around a year and a half, and it improves each time. The first time I was a bit offended because it seemed that the plot had very little to do with Austen, but the second time it grew on me, and the third time I really enjoyed the subtleties I didn't pick up the first time (because I was so busy being offended).

The Jane Austen Book Club is about a group of people - mostly female, mostly older - who gather each month to read and discuss a different Jane Austen novel. Karen Joy Fowler, the author, obviously knows and loves her Austen, skillfully weaving the themes and ideas of the novels into each chapter. So subtly, in fact, that I failed to pick up some of it in my first read.

She uses an interesting method of first-person narrative in writing as a member the book club ('us', 'we'), yet the narrator is clearly none of the members themselves. It's as though the narrator is the collective consciousness of the club, and this makes you feel part of the group without intruding on them.

The characters are all very different, but drawn together by their love of Austen... mostly. There's the efficient and brisk Jocelyn who started the club, the I'm-letting-myself-deliberately-go older member Bernadette, Prudie the French teacher who likes to drop un petit peu of Français into each conversation, Jocelyn's best friend and recently-separated Sylvia, her beautiful self-centred lesbian daughter Allegra, and Grigg, the only male member -

She [Jocelyn] introduced us all to Grigg. He had brought the Gramercy edition of the complete novels, which suggested that Austen was merely a recent whim. We really could not approve of someone who showed up with an obviously new book, of someone who had the complete novels on his lap when only Emma was under discussion. Whenever he first spoke, whatever he said, one of us would have to put him in his place.

There's nothing big or loud about The Jane Austen Book Club. Instead, it's very enjoyable for its quiet wit and unobtrusive narrative. Yet, in true Jane Austen style, the characters find love, forgiveness and all the good things that make us human. Big thumbs up from me.

Oh, and the movie's pretty good too.

Isabel's Bed, Elinor Lipman

I find Elinor Lipman's books interesting, humorous in a low-key kind of way (more English than American) and full of generously portrayed characters, but I can't help the feeling that there's more to them than I'm getting, because so many reviewers seem to rave about them.

My second Lipman book, Isabel's Bed is about wannabe writer Harriet Mahoney, who gets kicked out of her apartment after beind dumped by her live-in lover for a younger woman. She takes a ghost-writing job with glamorous tabloid slut Isabel Krug, famous for being caught in the act with her rich adulterous lover when his wife burst in on them and fatally shot him. Harriet becomes absorbed into Isabel's architect-designed multi-million dollar home and eccentric life while trying to maintain her writer-sensibilities, which tend more towards Remains of the Day than the sensational besteller she's been hired to write.

Isabel's Bed is full of wry egocentric observations by Harriet and a handful of absorbing and well-etched characters. Lipman very successfully positions herself at the more intelligent end of the chicklit spectrum. An enjoyable read.

An excerpt:

There weren't even bubbles in the bath to obscure her private parts from me, her acquaintance of less than twenty-four hours. It was not the lolling soak of Calgon commercials; this was Isabel soaping her wash cloth and scrubbing her armpits and crotch in a manner I hadn't done in front of Kenny after a decade of intimacy. I sat on a wrought iron stool at the foot of the black marble steps, which led to her elevated, sunken tub. She talked and soaked, talked and scrubbed, then talked and rinsed, while I tried to be as casual about her nudity as she was, and while many Isabels bounced off the mirrored walls.

And there was no getting around her breasts, especially in the context of Isabel as tabloid paramour, as the woman Guy VanVleet died for. They were big. Enormous. They drooped from their own weight below the bath water, then surfaced on display, areolas the size of coasters. I wanted to ask if they were real, but decided that no certified plastic surgeon would have built those. Ordinarily I'd feel sorry for a woman with water-balloon breasts, knowing the burdens they imposed, but I could see that Isabel prized them and regarded them as my first research project, as if seeing them would help me write between the lines.

Janet Evanovich, Stephanie Plum series

Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series is utterly enjoyable. After losing her job as a lingerie buyer for a B-grade department store, Stephanie is forced to become a bounty hunter for her cousin Vinnie's bail bonding business in order to pay the rent. With a combination of dumb luck, intuition and a lot of help from the mysterious Ranger and on-again-off-again cop boyfriend Joe Morelli, she manages to catch the bad guy and keep from being blown to bits in some very close calls.

With a plethora of zany characters (lycra spandex-loving, plus-size bestie Lula who's an ex-ho-turned-filing-clerk and overly-curious, adventurous grandma Mazur, to name just two), this series of novels is truly entertaining. It's better than your average chicklit detective novel, full of funny moments, climactic situations and a whole lot of sexual tension. And best of it, each book actually has a really well-thought out plot. Stephanie's a likeable character who's endearing and quite relatable - she's perpetually broke, has a weakness for junk food and occasionally has trouble doing the top button of her jeans - except perhaps for the fact that she tends to blow up cars and tackle bad guys.

It's one of those series that you wish would just keep going - and it does. At the time of writing this review, Evanovich has released 14 Stephanie Plum novels. The upside is that you want more each time you read one and she delivers each time, but the downside is that it gets a bit predictable - we know Stephanie's going to catch the bad guy and we know that she'll never be able to make up her mind between Morelli and Ranger. It's a quandary because if she DID finally decide to put the holster down and take up with one of the men in her life, you'd be totally disappointed, yet her lack of personal progress can also be frustrating.

The great thing about it is that when you want a quick, enjoyable, laugh-out-loud read, you can go back and pick up any one of the books and it's like a bite-sized piece of chocolate that hits the spot. I've been going back and forth, up and down the line of series for ages now (a few years at least) and was prompted to write this entry only because I found book #1 at St Vinnies (got it second hand for $2 - what a bargain) and read and enjoyed it all over again. It's funny seeing how Ranger has progressed from being a competent commando-style Latino bounty hunter to this laconic dark man of mystery - a cross between Batman and sex on legs.

My only word of advice is don't bother with the other Evanovich novels because they're just not as good - especially not the ones where she collaborates with another author. Stay far away. Stick with Plum.

Series titles:
One for the Money
Two for the Dough
Three to Get Deadly
Four to Score
High Five
Hot Six
Hard Eight
To the Nines
Ten Big Ones
Eleven on Top
Twelve Sharp
Lean Mean Thirteen
Fearleass Fourteen

Holiday Novellas:
Visions of Sugar Plums
Plum Lovin'

The perpetually unfinished Friday Night Knitting Club, Kate Jacobs

The Friday Night Knitting Club is one of those books that sits on my shelf while I lament the space it's taking and the money I forked out to buy it (even if I did get it with a 3 for 2 deal at Borders). I just can't get past about a quarter way, and I've given it 2 tries already.

It's a debut book by a new author and you can tell. The writing is too heavy, the situation cliched, characters one-dimensional and the plot borders on predictable and couldn't-care-less. The only redeeming feature was the premise - a single mum opens her dream shop selling yarn which attracts women from all walks who share their lives along with their patterns every Friday night. Sounds like the perfect chicklit setup for some light sparkling conversation overlaid by deep insights, but it really fails to deliver.

Apparently they've made a movie out of it with Julia Roberts. I hope it does better than the book, about which I can't comment much further as I haven't finished and don't intend to. I just wanted my two monumental attempts to read it documented.