Review: The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. by Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland

I knew as soon as I stumbled across this book online that we were destined to be together. A chunky book about a time-travelling government department attempting to reinstate magic? Yes please. DEFINITELY yes. So when I accidentally stumbled across a signed copy in London's Forbidden Planet, I honestly didn't shut up about it for days. I got home, read it immediately... and still haven't shut up about it. Sorry everyone (but not that sorry).

Plot summary:
1851 England
The Great Exhibition at London’s Crystal Palace has opened, celebrating the rise of technology and commerce. With it the power of magic – in decline since the industrial revolution began – is completely snuffed out. The existence of magic begins its gradual devolution into mere myth.
21st Century America
Magic has faded from the minds of mankind, until an encounter between Melisande Stokes, linguistics expert at Harvard, and Tristan Lyons, shadowy agent of government, leads to the uncovering of a distant past.
After translating a series of ancient texts, Melisande and Tristan discover the connection between science, magic and time travel and so the Department of Diachronic Operations – D.O.D.O. – is hastily brought into existence. Its mission: to develop a device that will send their agents back to the past, where they can stop magic from disappearing and alter the course of history.
But when you interfere with the past, there’s no telling what you might find in your future…

I loved this book. Loved, loved, loved this book. I always knew I was going to, but I feel like it defied even my highest of expectations.

It's almost like a way more detailed and technical version of The Chronicles of St Mary's series - I always complained that the concept was great but it was hugely lacking in detail - and now we have The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. In this book, we get to see the creation of the organisation from the ground up, as the machines are invented and the concept of D.O.D.O. (Department of Diachronic Operations) comes together. It could be boring, but it's not. It's time travel and so I will suck up every scrap of detail and love it.

It's told through a variety of different formats, but not so many that it becomes wearing (I'm looking at you, Illuminae). We mostly see mission reports and journal entries, but there's the odd internal company memo or policy briefing to add a dry and fun sense of humour. I wasn't over keen on the letters from Grainne O'Malley (a 16th Century witch) as I really didn't like her and they dragged on a bit but, looking back, they probably were necessary to the overarching plot, so I won't complain too much.

Ohhhhhh, the plot. It's ingenious. A lot of time is spent on setting the scene and I loved every second. However, the actual over-arching point of the novel is deeply hidden and quite subtle, so that you start to feel genuine little twinges of anxiety before you even really know what's going on. It's hard to pinpoint, but it's there. When it really gets going, towards the end, my stomach actually hurt, I cared so deeply about the characters.  It's honestly a masterpiece.

Of course you get some detail of their time-travelling exploits - what's the point of a time travel book otherwise!? I loved Melisande travelling back to bury a rare book, and managing to navigate the 16th Century slightly better every time she headed back. I'd probably have liked more of that, but not at the expense of the amazing plot so I'll pipe down. There's a reasonable amount there anyway, in fairness.

I can only imagine how long it took Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland to plan this book. Not only the set-up of D.O.D.O. but the intertwining threads of narrative that come together to make absolute sense. It is time travel, after all - it's not meant to be simple. This is the only book I've read by these authors, but I've already added a few more to my wishlist.

The only problem with The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. is that I was torn between frantically needing to read it, but then not wanting to read it because then I'd have finished it and couldn't read it anymore... *breathes into a paper bag*

Visit Neal Stephenson's website here, or find him on Twitter. 
Nicole Galland can be found here. 
NOW READ THEIR BOOK. 

Review: The Radium Girls by Kate Moore

Arrrrrrgh, this book. This book, this book, this book. I've been putting off reviewing it for ages because my notes are a garbled mess of exclamation points, page numbers and quotes, and every time I think about this book my heart (and head) hurt all over again. It's a brilliant, brilliant book and, even if you can't make it to the end of this mess of a review, I really encourage you to read it.

Summary: 1917. As a war raged across the world, young American women flocked to work, painting watches, clocks and military dials with a special luminous substance made from radium. It was a fun job, lucrative and glamorous – the girls themselves shone brightly in the dark, covered head to toe in the dust from the paint. They were the radium girls.

As the years passed, the women began to suffer from mysterious and crippling illnesses. The very thing that had made them feel alive – their work – was in fact slowly killing them: they had been poisoned by the radium paint. Yet their employers denied all responsibility. And so, in the face of unimaginable suffering – in the face of death – these courageous women refused to accept their fate quietly, and instead became determined to fight for justice.

Drawing on previously unpublished sources – including diaries, letters and court transcripts, as well as original interviews with the women’s relatives – The Radium Girls is an intimate narrative account of an unforgettable true story. It is the powerful tale of a group of ordinary women from the Roaring Twenties, who themselves learned how to roar.

This is technically a non-fiction work about the women who earned a living by painting luminescent dials on watches in the 1920s. I say 'technically,' because I have never cried this much over a non-fiction book (or any fiction book either, in fairness). The tone is a rarely-seen perfect mix of the emotional and the technical - although every single page contains near constant quotes from the women and their families, the remaining text tells the women's story with a very sympathetic narrative.

That's not a criticism. I never felt like I was being emotionally manipulated and it would be very, very difficult to write a book of this nature and be objective. Aside from the original horror of the women being told to put radium in their mouths in the first place, they were lied to nigh-on continuously by the company and even so-called medical experts. Their bodies collapsed, their hearts broke and their bank accounts emptied, but the company continued to Appeal, even after the Courts had already made a decision.

The tone of the text is light and very accessible, but the subject is not. Their jaw bones literally fell out of their mouths. There are photographs in the middle of the book - most are included to emphasise that these women were real, human, living people (temporarily, at any rate) but there are a few that show the size of tumours, disintegrated bones, etc. There is one particular photo that I kept turning back to and I cried every single time I looked at it. One of the women collapsed during a Court hearing after she was told that her condition was fatal (her well-intentioned doctors had decided to keep this information from her) and a photographer somehow got a shot mid-collapse. It really demonstrates the lack of knowledge provided to these women and their emotional state at that time.

There aren't words to describe how much these women suffered. It's not just the physical horrors, but the way they were treated. One woman was posthumously slapped with a 'syphilis' label even though there was no indication of any sexually transmitted disease and another woman's body was pretty much stolen from the hospital by the organisation before the family could pay their respects. They were shunned by their communities for creating trouble for the factories that provided jobs for local people and some of the women's husbands became jealous of their (later) wealth and threatened to gas them.

I cried on a train, I cried on a bus and I cried in a cafe. This was real, this happened and people did nothing. My eyes are watering with angry tears as I write this six weeks after I read it.

It's very hard to separate the topic from the book, but I'm going to try because I don't think Kate Moore's skill deserves to be overshadowed by the tragedy she writes about. She writes very well - to say that a good 300 pages of The Radium Girls is about a legal battle, it flows, it's interesting and it's engrossing. She has clearly put a tremendous amount of effort into research and interviewing the relatives of the deceased, and she appears to genuinely care about the plight suffered of the radium girls. 

And Grace Fryer was never forgotten. She is still remembered now – you are still remembering her now. As a dial-painter, she glowed gloriously from the radium powder; but as a woman, she shines through history with an even brighter glory: stronger than the bones that broke inside her body; more powerful than the radium that killed her or the company that shamelessly lied through its teeth; living longer than she ever did on earth, because she now lives on in the hearts and memories of those who know her only from her story.

Please read this book. Firstly, it's important that we acknowledge these brave and strong individuals who were so profoundly abused in so many different ways. Their bodies and their fight went on to form the basis of ground-breaking legislation that is still in place in the US today, and allowed for progress to be made with preventing radiation toxicity in others. They were ignored and shunned when they were alive, and that was not acceptable. At least now we can look back and retrospectively apologise.

Secondly, I'm desperate to talk about this book so hurry up and read it! I want to talk about the women, the people and especially how radium affected the whole town. The factory was eventually used as a meat locker - so naturally everybody who ate the meat became severely ill. After that the factory was knocked down... and the rubble was deposited around town. Dogs died prematurely, citizens developed an inordinate amount of tumours... you get the idea. I want to talk about it. 

Lastly, it's just a brilliant, brilliant book. Kate Moore is a wonderful writer who has tackled an extremely difficult subject with dignity and grace. Every second that I wasn't reading this book, I wanted to be. It's riveting and completely engrossing.

So there, you go. Read The Radium Girls because it's important, discussion-provoking and enjoyable.
  

Read Ellie's review of The Radium Girls at Curiosity Killed the Bookworm. 

Review: My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier

In my defence, I bought this in 2013 and obviously not because of any current Rachel Weisz-starring film. However, to my detriment, I will admit that the aforementioned film is pretty much entirely the reason I'm reading it now.

Plot summary: Orphaned at an early age, Philip Ashley is raised by his benevolent older cousin, Ambrose. Resolutely single, Ambrose delights in Philip as his heir, a man who will love his grand home as much as he does himself. But the cosy world the two construct is shattered when Ambrose sets off on a trip to Florence. There he falls in love and marries - and there he dies suddenly. 

Jealous of his marriage, racked by suspicion at the hints in Ambrose's letters, and grief-stricken by his death, Philip prepares to meet his cousin's widow with hatred in his heart. Despite himself, Philip is drawn to this beautiful, sophisticated, mysterious Rachel like a moth to the flame. And yet... might she have had a hand in Ambrose's death?

I've had My Cousin Rachel summed up to me by numerous friends as 'Like Rebecca, but not as good.' Luckily, it's been years since I've read Rebecca so I wasn't able to compare the two. Whilst I recognise that the tone and prose are very similar, I can't help thinking that My Cousin Rachel might actually be, you know... better?

I LOVED this book. I've heard complaints that it's very slow moving and I suppose it is, but it's almost purposeful. You can't pick up a du Maurier and expect constant action, violence and scenes of a sexual nature. It's slow, I suppose, but it has to be, and the pages flew past me regardless. The beauty lies in the gradual layering of information and context, each page adding a new shadow and new depth to your perception of the characters.

That's the key to My Cousin Rachel, the characters. Even more so than Rebecca, the plot relies completely on two people, Philip and Rachel. I have never seen such perfectly nuanced characters in the whole of fiction. I feel as if I have known these two people for always - I've been so engrossed in their world and in their minds that I swear I have relatives I don't know this well.

The importance is the interpretation, however. The most obvious question that arises throughout the book is 'Did Rachel kill her husband?' We know that, that's fine (although presumably not for Ambrose). But there are so many other questions as well - Is Philip a reliable narrator? Has he been swayed by his feelings? Was it Rachel's fault or unavoidable? Was the ending intentional? None of these questions are resolved by the narrative and they've been driving me mad ever since.

It could go so many different ways depending on your interpretation of the novel, and for this reason I think it might be more masterful even than Rebecca. I love that book, don't get me wrong, but it's pretty clear cut what happened by the end. Not so much here. I discussed it with the one other person I knew who had read it, and naturally she'd understood it completely differently to me (although this is the person with whom I nearly came to blows over We Need To Talk About Kevin) so we don't trust her view entirely ;)

One interpretation (which I admit didn't occur to me as I was reading) is that My Cousin Rachel is a feminist masterpiece, a pre-emptive strike against the sexist notion of friend-zoning. Rachel did nothing wrong - you only see her through the eyes of Philip, who comes to resent her beauty and charm, and her lack of willingness to marry him. I'm not so sure of this concept, but it highlights the many, many different lights in which this book can be viewed.

I do know that Philip Ashley needs a shake. He infuriated me. Don't get me wrong, he was perfectly crafted, but he was such a naive, wet, sulking little brat.I appreciated the masterful way in which he was written, but that appreciation didn't stop me from simultaneously wanting to throttle him.

Please read this. I don't care if you've read Rebecca or seen the Rachel Weisz film, or you're allergic to authors called Daphne. Go away and read this, and then come back immediately and talk to me about it.

What do you think? Was Rachel guilty?   

The Ten Best Books of Mid-2017

I seriously can't believe that we're nearly at the end of June 2017. An awful, awful lot has changed since January in both positive and negative ways, but we're more interested in books, so let's talk about that!

It was actually sort of a struggle to put this list together. It's not that I haven't read some great books this year, because I have, but several of them have been series and I only really count them as one entity. I couldn't actually come up with ten individual books to make up this list, so I clearly need to up my reading game for the second half of the year! 

Books read: 39

Rereads: 9  

Pre-2017 books: 13  

Non-fiction: 3

  Average date of publication: 1993

I've clearly re-read an awful lot this year! Such is the advantage of reading whatever the hell I want. Not so much non-fiction, but that's fine, and I'm happy with my average publication date as well. I've read more newer releases than I normally would (See What I Have Done, for example) which has dragged my average date forward a bit. Ah well.

Hanna's Best Books of Mid-2017

1) Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

 
'I CRIED. I actually sat there and properly cried. It's an actually perfect ending that suited all the characters. I loved that it wasn't perfect, that not everybody got a happy ending and that it wasn't what I had hoped would happen - it was better than that. It was brave and awful and amazing and... ARGH.'

I wish I could read this fantasy duology for the first time all over again. I couldn't even finish the author's Grisha series as I really wasn't a fan, but it's hard to tell that this series is even by the same author. It's dark  and unique and has so many twists that I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. A genuinely perfect fantasy series.
  

2) Smoke Gets in Your Eyes and Other Lessons from the Crematorium by Caitlin Doughty 

'This is not a book for those of a sensitive disposition. We read about decay, leaking and mechanisms for keeping the eyes of the deceased firmly closed (spoiler alert: they use caps with spikes on). I like that about this book though. I like that it goes slightly beyond the realms of propriety to explain the details that I had never considered were an issue.'

Whilst this might seem an odd choice for a Top Ten list, it really blew me away. Not only did it make me laugh out loud with hilarious anecdotes, it also made me really think about the culture of death denial perpetuated in Western civilisation. I couldn't get it out of my head for days afterwards and this book deserves to be on that list for purely that reason.

3) My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier

 

Alright, so I haven't actually finish reading this yet, but I know it's going to annoy me when I finish this tomorrow but couldn't add it to my list.

I love it. I've had it for years and it irritates me that I didn't pick it up sooner, because I could have had this creepy, mysterious pleasure years ago.

It's just so du Maurier-y. And yes, that is an excellent quote that I'm sure the publishers will be adding to the cover of the latest edition. There's an aura of sinister innocence, somehow, that just seeps off the pages and I LOVE IT.

4) The Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson

 

'It's what I'd call 'proper' fantasy. There's a completely developed world with its own class system and politics, and the characters spend a lot of time sitting around discussing the latest plot development to really give you an in-depth understanding of what's going on. There's lots and lots of dialogue and scheming, with no sex and no pointless, graphic violence for shock value.'

Whilst I had some issues with the characterisation in the second and third Mistborn books (and despised the ending), this series remains one of my favourite reads of this year. It was completely engrossing, the magic system was fantastic and the lore of the Kandra was some of the most interesting I've ever seen in a fantasy series. Read my review for more fence-sitting!

5) The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles 

 
'The beauty with this novel, however, isn't the plot, it's the beauty and ingenuity of the prose. It's sort of meta, or it would be if that didn't seem an inappropriate word to use regarding a setting of 1867. The narrator spends a lot of time talking directly to the reader, with phrases such as 'you'll have to excuse Charles, he was merely a product of his time.'' 

The ending was sort of bizarre in this book as well (it's a theme of 2017 apparently) but, like I said above, you don't read this novel for the plot, you read it for the wonderful tone and beautiful prose. It's as if you put Crimson Petal and the White and The Collector in a bag, and then shook them up. Absolutely wonderful, if slightly meta. 

 6) Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson
 
'I particularly appreciated that when The Person In Question obtains new magical ability, she is not suddenly an expert, contrary to the Mistborn series and honestly 85% of all fantasy novels I've ever read.'

Another Brandon Sanderson. This is a standalone novel (or so I believe) that I think I sort of liked more than the Mistborn books, but considering that most of my issues with that series were in the latter books, it isn't really fair to judge Warbreaker and that series on the same standard. Anyway, I loved this book and would happily read the remainder of the books if it did turn into a series.

7) The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins  

'I love how the characters all now know who stole the diamond as they're writing their narratives but have been forbidding from setting it out. It results in them sort of bickering amongst themselves as they criticise decisions that have already been made and indignantly rant about accusations levied at the time. It's so petty and clever and perfectly done.' 

This is the first time that I've ever included a re-read on a 'Best Books' list, but I don't care. I just had to talk about The Moonstone some more. I originally read it as part of a read-a-long but reading it in one large chunk just makes it wonderful. It's hilarious, clever and ingenious, so I really, really recommend picking this one up.

__________________________________________________

Well, it makes a pleasant change to have actually already reviewed almost everything on one of these lists! Fingers crossed I'll be back in December with a complete list, actually making it all the way to ten books!

See you n December!  

Review: The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins

The Moonstone has to be one of my all-time favourite books. I originally read it as part of a read-a-long hosted by Lit Nerd in 2013 (!) and I subsequently read The Woman in White, which I liked but possibly not quite as much. As I'm now participating in a read-a-long of a biography of Wilkie Collins (see my first check-in post) and, as I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself anyway, I thought that re-reading The Moonstone alongside might be just the thing to cheer me up.

Plot summary: When Rachel Verinder receives a gift of an astonishing yellow diamond from her bitter old uncle for her eighteenth birthday, she has no idea that the stone brings great danger with it. When the diamond goes missing during the night the ensuing investigations gradually bring to light the sinister history of the jewel and the passions and plots of those close to Rachel.
  
Whilst that is an accurate summary, it's almost irrelevant. The fascination with The Moonstone isn't the plot or the mystery; it's how wonderfully it was written.

The basic premise is that the mystery of the diamond has now been concluded, but one of the principal characters is now trying to put together a file on what happened and has asked several other characters to relate their understanding in a sensible, logical manner. We're left with a chronological narrative, from the (extremely biased) perspectives of several changing points of view.

Some parts of this novel are downright hilarious. My favourite characters are Mr Betteredge, a gently sexist butler with absolute loyalty to his Lady, and Miss Clack, an extremely devout and irritating younger relative. It makes me happy that I bookmarked the same quotes this time as I did during my first reading.

From Mr Betteredge:

It is a maxim of mine that men (being superior creatures) are bound to improve women - if they can. When a woman wants me to do anything (my daughter, or not, it doesn't matter), I always insist on knowing why. The oftener you make them rummage their own minds for a reason, the more manageable you will find them in all relations of life. It isn't their fault (poor wretches!) that they act first, and think afterwards; it's the fault of the fools who humour them.  

From Miss Clack:

Here was a golden opportunity! I seized it on the spot. In other words, I instantly opened my bag, and took out the top publication. It proved to be an early edition - only the twenty-fifth - of the famous anonymous work (believed to be my precious Miss Bellows), entitled The Serpent at Home. The design of the book - with which the wordly reader may not be acquainted - is to show how the Evil One lies in wait for us in all the most apparantly innocent actions of our daily lives. The chapters best adapted to female perusal are 'Satan in the Hair Brush'; 'Satan behind the Looking Glass'; 'Satan under the Tea Table'; 'Satan out of the Window' - and many others. 

I love how the characters all now know who stole the diamond as they're writing their narratives but have been forbidding from setting it out. It results in them sort of bickering amongst themselves as they criticise decisions that have already been made and indignantly rant about accusations levied at the time. It's so petty and clever and perfectly done. I love (and sympathise with) Miss Clack's petty hatred of Rachel Verinder especially.

It's funny and an absolute joy to read. Reading Wilkie Collins' biography alongside this book has provided a slight insight into certain matters. Druscilla Clack, for example, highlights Mr Collins' distaste for the religion into which his parents tried to force him and the strong female characters throughout the novel confirm (as the biography alleges) that he was quite sympathetic towards women in general. Unlike Mr Betteredge, clearly.

The Moonstone isn't all fun and games, however. It's quite dark in parts - a cursed diamond is stolen, sinister 'Hindoo' men are lurking about, massive debts are entered and hearts are broken. It's lauded as being one of the first modern detective novels (it preceded Sherlock Holmes by 19 years) and I can absolutely see why. There's an all-seeing detective who is never taken seriously, a locked room mystery and witness accounts almost always hold something back. For all that, though, it has dated really well and I still couldn't figure out whodunnit until the very end.

Speaking of timelessness, the thing that impressed me the most about this book was the ending. For a novel about a precious jewel that was stolen from an Indian tribe, the ending is very respectful towards different cultures. It was something that I expected to jar with me throughout my reading, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Very ahead of its time.

I can't explain how much I adore this book and it has to be on my Top Ten Favourite books ever. The characters are delightful (even if you wouldn't exactly want to have dinner with them), the mystery is riveting and the writing is hilarious. Please, please read The Moonstone and then immediately come back here and talk to me about it.

Review: Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

I finished the second book in this duology, Crooked Kingdom, literally about five minutes ago and I have to talk about this series immediately. I feel sad, nauseous and a little bit giddy, all at the same time. This series, especially the second book, is the best I've read in a long, long time.

Plot summary: Criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker has been offered wealth beyond his wildest dreams. But to claim it, he'll have to pull off a seemingly impossible heist:Break into the notorious Ice Court
(a military stronghold that has never been breached)

Retrieve a hostage
(who could unleash magical havoc on the world)

Survive long enough to collect his reward
(and spend it)

Kaz needs a crew desperate enough to take on this suicide mission and dangerous enough to get the job done - and he knows exactly who: six of the deadliest outcasts the city has to offer. Together, they just might be unstoppable - if they don't kill each other first.

I was dubious about starting this series as I did not like the Grisha books. The Shadow and Bone series wasn't bad exactly, but there was nothing particularly unique about it and it wasn't written overly well. I'm not sure if I finished the first book, but I definitely didn't carry on to the second. This series, written by the same author and featuring the same world, did therefore not exactly recommend itself to me.

Then Charlotte, whose opinion tends to echo mine in a lot of bookish things, read Six of Crows (review here), and she ended up buying it for me as a Christmas gift. Turns out that I'm really, really glad I didn't avoid these books just because I didn't like Leigh Bardugo's original serie, or I'd have missed one of my favourite books of the year so far. Admittedly it's only April, but I'm confident it'll stay a firm favourite.

I'm a sucker for books about close knit groups of wildly different people, all working towards a shared objective, bonding and bickering along the way. It's why I loved A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet so much, and other books like Theft of Swords. Six Crows and Crooked Kingdom do that perfectly. The way the relationships develop and change is so perfect and so subtle - I'm not sure I've ever seen characterisation performed so beautifully. The characters are so different, but the way their personalities interweave is wonderfully crafted.

My favourites were Kaz, the criminal mastermind with his own special brand of neuroses, Inej, the gentle but talented wraith and Wylan, the quiet demolitions expert scorned by his Father. However, and unusually for a book with changing perspectives, I was interested in every single one of the six characters. All of them. They were so wonderful and their perspectives so unique, that for once I didn't mind from whose viewpoint I was reading. It alternates every other chapter and, considering that means six perspectives, it's a difficult feat to stop the reader from getting frustrated.

Normally I hate romance in books like these - it's usually unnecessary and shoehorned in for the sake of it. Here though, it's more of a subplot of a subplot. It's so subtle and non-attention-grabbing that I actually felt the story was better for it, which is something I never actually thought I'd say. The end result of the relationships was never straightforward and yet it was always suited the couple involved to the nth degree. So, so perfect.

The story itself is wonderful too. Six of Crows is a simple heist (well, not so simple at all, but the premise is straightforward at least - 'steal some stuff') and Kingdom of Crows is a more complex plot where the characters have to deal with the less than ideal consequences of the aforementioned heist. Each book has so many twists and so many turns that I lost count of the time I wanted to gasp at how Kaz Brekker tricked me (and everybody else) again.  

The writing style is completely different to the original Grisha trilogy, to the point where I wouldn't have believed it was written by the same author. It's adult, it's complex and parts of it are simply beautiful. I don't know what happened between that series and this one, but it worked. 

Charlotte told me that Crooked Kingdom was even better than Six of Crows, but I didn't really get on board with that until close to the end. Because I read them so close together, they sort of merged into one book for me. Well, until the end of Crooked Kingdom. I CRIED. I actually sat there and properly cried. It's an actually perfect ending that suited all the characters. I loved that it wasn't perfect, that not everybody got a happy ending and that it wasn't what I had hoped would happen - it was better than that. It was brave and awful and amazing and... ARGH. It's perfect, for all the characters.

A third book hasn't been announced and, strictly speaking, the story has been concluded. However, there is scope for another book (or another hundred, fingers crossed) and I cannot wait for that day. I swear, the second that book is announced, I'm on it.

For a series I didn't even want to read, it's amazing. Hell, for a series I did want to read, it's still amazing. The prose is beautiful, the characterisation is masterful and I absolutely didn't want to put this series down for a second.

And look - I found a shop on Etsy that sells Six of Crows themed candles! You can buy a Matthias candle or a Wraith candle, and Novelly Yours have kindly offered to give all you lucky readers 10% off! Just use the code TAKEOFF10.

What has your favourite book of 2017 been?

Review: Just One Damned Thing After Another by Jodi Taylor

TIME TRAVEL. An organisation that investigates historical events by GOING TO VISIT THEM. Why did I not know this series existed!? I feel like you all seriously breached your duty of care by not informing me that these books existed. The Claim Form is in the post; expect a call from my lawyer. This is the best idea ever and I can't wait to read the rest of the Chronicles of St Mary's series.

Plot summary: Behind the seemingly innocuous façade of St Mary's, a different kind of historical research is taking place. They don't do 'time-travel' - they 'investigate major historical events in contemporary time'. Maintaining the appearance of harmless eccentrics is not always within their power - especially given their propensity for causing loud explosions when things get too quiet.

Meet the disaster-magnets of St Mary's Institute of Historical Research as they ricochet around History. Their aim is to observe and document - to try and find the answers to many of History's unanswered questions...and not to die in the process. But one wrong move and History will fight back - to the death. And, as they soon discover - it's not just History they're fighting.

Follow the catastrophe curve from 11th-century London to World War I, and from the Cretaceous Period to the destruction of the Great Library at Alexandria. For wherever Historians go, chaos is sure to follow in their wake....

This has 'Hanna' written all over it. I discovered it, bought it and immediately sat immobile for an entire day and devoured it. It has its faults and some of them did irritate me (no surprises there), but I loved, loved this book.

It's a relatively simple idea - St Mary's Institute of Historical Research is partnered with a more traditional university, who are paid to investigate aspects of certain historical events. The University contacts St Mary's, and two historians toddle off to the Cretaceous Period, or the building of West Minster Abbey, or the Somme. They come back with the data and everybody wins. It's actually quite well thought out - the safety checks, briefings, contingency plans, etc.

There is actually a detailed over-arching plot, which impressed me. I expected Just One Damned Thing After Another to be a sort of set-up book for the series, just sorting out the Institute and how Max got her job, etc. I suspect this storyline is convoluted enough to last throughout the entire series (seven books at time of writing) and it surprised me that such an idea was implemented halfway through Book One.

It's very fast paced... actually too fast paced. I would have liked it to take its time a little more, I think. Events occur in quick succession with no time to properly deal with what happened, whether a personal problem or a trip back to the past. I need more detail! It makes it difficult to care about the characters when you're essectially just given a list of what they did, in chronological order. Take some time and explain. I mean, the point of the book is that these people jump back in time but the historical events are almost skimmed over. They jump there, see a dinosaur, and jump back. I picked this up for the time travel, so why skim over it? If there were only more detail involved and the characters only had a sense of wonder, these books would be perfect.  

Ironically, this book doesn't deal with the passage of time well. Max is a trainee, but suddenly she'd finished her training and then suddenly she'd been there five years and there were new trainees. It was a little confusing as there were no indications of the time that had passed. It leads back to the lack of detail explained above, I suppose. 

The book drags on just a little too long. Something happens that would have been a perfect place to the end the book, but then Max has a revelation and we go on to deal with that. It carries on past the natural ending for the book and the tone is immediately changed. It's just... odd. I can't help but think that it would have been a better idea for that to comprise Book Two, and then Book One could have been expanded with the detail and explanation that I so desperately crave!

I did absolutely love Just One Damned Thing After Another and I already wish that I owned the rest of the series, instead of just the second book, Symphony of Echoes. It was an effort not to just pick it up and plough ahead, but I decided to give myself a little breathing room. It's a great idea, authored by somebody who clearly loves history, it just needs a little more detail and to slow the pace down somewhat.

Visit Jodi Taylor's website here, or find her on Twitter.  

The Top Ten Books of 2015

I just can't believe how quickly this year has flown by. It's been an odd year for reading, in that I got my scary, grown-up job and therefore have much less time for reading. I also started taking Russian lessons and was 'promoted' to Cub Scout Leader... whilst continuing my previous volunteer work. And attempting to have a personal life. Still, I have managed to fit some reading in.

I read 63 books this year, which is about 45 less than usual, but in my Defence... well, see above. I also spent three months on War & Peace and six weeks on Moby Dick, which didn't exactly help, although I am glad I bothered now that I've finished.

With that in mind, here are Booking in Heels' Top Ten Books of 2015.

1) Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

This book. This book this book this book.

I read it last January and I've been dying to put it in this list ever since. It's perfect, and geeky, and references Hitchhikers Guide, Pern, Ghostbusters, Middle Earth and a million other old school fandoms that I love. I already want to reread it. Please, please, please pick this up if you have any interest in anything remotely geeky.

'I hate that I never again get to have the experience of reading it for the first and it also bothers me that I have to wait a whole year before I can include it in the Best Books of 2015 list. Which I will be doing. I finished the novel with a tight, happy feeling in my stomach and the knowledge that I will buy everything that Ernest Cline writes.'
 
2) We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

I actually read The Haunting of Hill House this year as well, although it seemed unfair to add them both to the list. Of the two, We Have Always Lived in the Castle was just... well, better.

It completely blew my mind and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.  

'I was absolutely hooked by the end of the first page. It's narrated by Merricat, or Mary Katherine Blackwood, in a very formal yet oddly chatty tone. She lives with her sister, who was formerly on trial for poisoning the rest of their family, and their Uncle Julian, who somehow managed to survive the whole thing. It's one of those books where the truth is finally unearthed with little hints here and there, dotted in and amongst the narrative of their daily lives.'

3) The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

This was actually a short story in one of those little black Penguin books they released this year, but it fit nicely into my apparent dark, Gothic, mental illness phase of this year.

I'd heard of it before and I read her novel, Herland, when I was a teenager, although it probably went mostly over my head at that time. However, I still wasn't prepared for just how disturbing The Yellow Wallpaper was going to be. I read it when I was alone and promptly had trouble sleeping for a good few nights. Thought-provoking and unnerving.

4) The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon
 
This has been on and off my wishlist for quite literally years, but I finally picked it up early this year. Despite it being 600+ pages long, I flew through it in days. It's engrossing, with a twist so amazing that I actually gasped out loud.

It has a very silly-sounding plot, but it's done in such a mature way that you get on board with it after just a few pages. 

'There's just something about the tone of the book that infers a touch of respectability to a plot that could turn very silly very quickly. There's a pervading atmosphere throughout, whether Claire is on an isolated Scottish moor or in a bustling castle kitchen, it always seems so real. If I had to sum this book up in one word, it would be 'immersive.''

5) The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

A few years ago, we all read-a-longed Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone and it was great. Changing perspectives, interesting characters, a grand reveal, etc etc. I've been meaning to read The Woman in White ever since, but you know how it is. So many books, so little time.

I eventually picked this up when I was packed off to a wedding in Norfolk on my own and I fell in love with it. It has the same changing perspective device as The Moonstone but it also has a creepy house and murderous plots. Whilst I liked both, I have to say that this book is even better.

6) Miss Buncle's Book by D.E. Stevenson

This is a lovely little book about village life, but with a twist. It's the kind of book you want to snuggle down in front of the fire with and muse on how nice people are really. It's charming, but with some satirical little comments that renders it still relevant to 2015. I quite desperately want to read Ms Stevenson's other books now.
 
'It's just so nice. Even the characters who are slated in her book aren't really nasty - they just receive a gentle nudge in the right direction. Not that they see it that way, of course. However, it's also quite clever in a subtle, satirical way. Miss Buncle is naive, but Dorothy Stevenson was most certainly not.'

7) Redshirts by John Scalzi

Oh oh, Redshirts! I loved this! I read it in my Ready Player One after-glow, when I was looking for any book that even resembled the amazingness that was this book. Thus, Redshirts.

It's a sort-of Star Trek parody, but not really. It is a novel in its own right, with a plot and fully-developed characters, but one that gently pokes fun at the sci-fi genre in a very meta way. I'd recommend reading it, even if you've never seen a Star Trek episode in your life.

'Redshirts is so much more than a parody. It's funny, clever, occasionally philosophical and really made me care about characters I expected to be two-dimensional and flat.'

8) Austenland by Shannon Hale

Although it kills me to admit it and actually undermines my reading credentials somewhat, I actually did read this book because I'd already seen the Austenland film. Shut up, I know.

It's a great book and a great film, although the two are very similar so it's probably not worth bothering with both. Book. Go with book and be happy.

'I put down the novel smiling like a child (albeit a child who is ill-advisedly allowed to read adult romance and has an obsessive understanding of Jane Austen). It's just such a lovely, uplifting book that restores your faith in happy ever after.'

9) Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolic Illness by Bill Wasik and Monica Murphy
 
Doesn't everybody have a non-fiction book about rabies on their 'Best Of...' lists!?

As rabies is obviously quite a niche topic, the book branches out into all sorts of topics - vampires, werewolves, hunting dogs, vaccines, Edward Jenner, etc - and it's fascinating.

My favourite part was the chapter dealing with Louis Pasteur who not only vastly developed the field of vaccination and pasteurisation (well, obviously - the clue is in the name, people) but created the first ever effective vaccine against rabies. 
 
10) Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science by Atul Gawande

Oh, I loved this book. Not only is the content fascinating, but the writing is beautiful. Far more impressive than you'd expect from a professional who has never studied literature.

This is an informal, very accessible collection of several essays about the world of surgery and why things go wrong. 

'Complications is far from merely a collection of anecdotes about 'when things go wrong,' however, and I do think it would interest everybody. Instead, Dr Gawande examines the concepts of surgery itself and discusses the different theories behind why things go wrong and the difficulty of actually implementing improvements. It's absolutely fascinating.'

What were your favourite books of 2015?