Articles, reading, Reviews

Review: The Love Story

Disclosure: I was provided with a copy of The Love Story ahead of release by the author, C. Kenny, for review purposes.

It may surprise you to see me reviewing a book with this title. It surprises me too, for I am not the expected consumer of this book’s proffered genre.

However, the fact that I read this book largely in one sitting stands testament to this book, which possesses a rare and incredible ability to traverse genre boundaries and preconceptions and tell a genuine, heartfelt and captivating story.

The Love Story, is, as the title suggests, a story of love. It introduces us to John Buckston, a twenty-something jack-the-lad who enjoys all the trappings that age presents: beers with friends down the pub, football, nights out. However, John is unlucky in love – until he visits the Winter Wonderland just before Christmas and has a chance encounter with a woman – Elena, who works on a kitsch gift stall there –  who will change both of their lives.

Where The Love Story is perhaps trite – a chance encounter between two star-crossed people who are immediately attracted to each other, and the trials and tribulations as these characters invariably miss each other through a cavalcade of misunderstanding and mistiming – it makes up for this in several areas.

First, the characters are well-developed, and it was their exploits that I became quickly invested in. John and Elena are the most well-developed. Starting with John, we learn about his family and his friends, and we find out he’s likeable and relatable. Pretty much the idealised version of the young man we all thought we were. However, he is not perfect and is not infallible, but it is through a harrowing misadventure having missed out on a chance, not just to be with Elena but to even tell her his true feelings for her that we learn his real mettle. John barely comes out of the spiral events take him down but when he does, he cements himself in the reader’s mind as a flawed but doubtless good and noble character beyond his years.

Elena, too, is a well rounded and complex protagonist – for The Love Story is told through duelling points-of-view – with her own skeletons that we see tantalisingly hinted at throughout. Her own journey is one that takes her to dark places, the opposite of where we, the reader, want her to be. She becomes torn between her head and her heart, a sense of duty glossing over the obvious faults in her situation.

I studied romance fiction at university, so I am aware that there is a familiar formula always at play. Of course, the star-crossed lovers do get to be with each other. It’s never a smooth ride. But with this book I felt taken on a journey in a very captivating and engaging way. The Love Story includes the best trait of the thriller genre in how the story is told – you just find yourself wanting to read the next page to find out what happens next. I think ultimately, we know that our lovers eventually get their happy ending from the outset, but the journey they go on – both physical and mental, plumbing some low moments, just makes that ascent to their happiness all the more rewarding and enriching.

The story is genuinely thrilling, with the stakes being upped with every moment – some moments took me by complete surprise, with a “how is the story going to get around this?!” reaction, which is in each instance deftly, but not implausibly or unsympathetically, countered, but it still makes you pause and reflect. Some moments came out of the blue, narratively speaking, and I felt my stomach dropped but the story ratcheted up from those points. It was impressively and stylishly accomplished.

There’s some truly moving moments contained in The Love Story, some harrowing moments and scenes where you’re hooked on every word, wanting to know what twist happens next. This is an ambitious and bold blending of two genres – romance and thriller – often seen as mutually exclusive, but this book presents a modern fusion that shows the versatility of both the author and the genres themselves.

The Love Story is written in fresh, unobtrusive prose that really takes you on the story of John and Elena, but doesn’t obstruct the view out of the window. That said, it’s stylish and precise, clearly written with care and attention to detail. Reading this book, especially when you push aside any notions of how “romance” books read archetypally, is a breath of fresh air. There’s no stodgy prose, or overwrought writing. The airy prose matches the story’s mood and tone rather wonderfully. The precise, delicate and intricate prose is by no means tawdry or maudlin, but takes the reader on a believable and compelling journey.

I feel that The Love Story also presents an important point and seeks to challenge a popular belief: that men do not write (and do not read) romance books. There’s a clear audience that this book aspires to satisfy and I foresee no issues in that goal. However, this book is approachable to those unfamiliar to the romance genre; it reads in a lot of places like a thriller and should appeal to those readers too.

I am not a romance reader by any stretch, yet I burned through this book in an evening – I was quickly gripped by the characters, situation, and story, like I would be with any good thriller. So don’t let your preconceptions about a love story dissuade you, and I see many good things coming from this author to come!

My rating: Highly recommended

Find out more information on The Love Story on C. Kenny’s website.

Purchase The Love Story on Amazon today! (Also available on other ebook platforms)

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reading, Reviews

Review: Displaced

Disclosure: I was provided with a copy of Displaced ahead of release by the author, Dan Hook, for review purposes.

Post-apocalyptic books, from my own experience, live or die on the strength of the imagery and world-building, but also on the strength of the characters that populate that world and the plot that befalls them. In Displaced, all of this happens with some aplomb.

Displaced is an assiduously-written adventure, with crisp, tight prose that really doesn’t impose itself upon the reader, instead laying the foundations for the characters we make acquaintances of to introduce the world and the story. That’s a great positive for me as unobtrusive, but not inelegant prose is a challenge to get right. Displaced succeeds.

We meet three main characters who have, at first glance, very different starting points: Zara, a young girl from Carbon City, one of the principle settlements in the world Dan has built, is working where she shouldn’t at Russet Dam. Quickly we are alluded to the fact that what Zara, and her accomplice, Trent are doing, isn’t quite in the spirit of helping the community they come from. Whatever clandestine task Zara has gotten herself wrapped up in goes awry and she finds herself on the wrong side of the tracks, looking for a way home.

Then we meet Shelby, whose idyllic agrarian lifestyle – living off the land on the grassy outskirts of Lornstern, portrayed as a veritable Eden – is predictably disrupted by the arrival of hostiles. These hostiles quickly disrupt Shelby’s idyllic agrarian lifestyle and threaten to turn his world inside out.

Finally, we meet Luther, head of security in Carbon City, tasked with investigating the events Zara found herself wrapped up in, and balancing the political ramifications both at home and outside with methods that raise eyebrows to say the least.

These are three distinct and diverse characters, and the narrative switches between. One of the successes of the approach Dan takes with this triumvirate of protagonists is that the reader finds themselves wanting to know what happens in each thread of the story, eager to see them coalesce together. The strands begin as separate entities but are clearly signposted as the book develops as being on a collision course, and this drives the story forward.

Dan does a great job in piecing together the world that this book takes place in – unencumbered by the geography of the present world we, the reader, are aware of, he creates a totally new world reshaped by events several centuries before. This allows total creative ability to create geography, lore and politics between the various zones.

I thought the choice to focus the characters around Carbon City was an interesting and successful one as Carbon City, despite its auspicious name, is not the crowning glory or de-facto superpower of the region: indeed, there are multiple external factors that put the settlement on the back foot and this really raises the stakes: Carbon City is in a delicate peace with the militarily-superior Eastern Legion of Trittle and trying to negotiate with Sol to gain access to their strategically-important oil resources. There are great hints that Carbon City can talk the talk more than perhaps it can walk the walk, so this keeping up of appearances adds an urgency to at least one of the main character threads.

The events of the story fall broadly into a theme of Carbon City trying to remain relevant and competitive; Zara’s guerrilla activities threaten the fragile peace with Trittle and threaten derailing the oil negotiations. On the other hand, it becomes readily apparent that Shelby is forced to participate in a clandestine, sneaky evening of the score for Carbon City against these changing odds.

If I had to pick which character’s story intrigued me the most, I would say the storyline of Luther seemed the most developed of the three: his character has the most development – we see him constantly battling against what could very well be violent and unpredictable mood swings to maintain the façade of sophistication in his interactions. Plus, I wasn’t sure for the majority of the book whether his character was good or bad – his intentions seem to be in the interest of Carbon City at the beginning but slowly more and more it seems like the opportunity to do right by the City is also an opportunity for personal political gain. Ostensibly, he is conducting an investigation that threatens to harm the efforts to maintain Carbon City’s relevance in the region but his methods and the opportunities presented in this endeavour leave these noble intentions in question throughout and we end up pondering quite what Luther’s end goals happen to be.

Overall though, the narrative is plenty intriguing to draw us, the reader, into the world of Displaced. The three threads do achieve some commonality toward to conclusion of the book and we’re left on a precipice wondering what happens next. The book is astutely titled as we do see all the main characters are displaced from the positions – physical and political – we encounter them in at the offset.

That said, if I had to think of one thing this book had lacking, it was a self-contained story that stands alone. Displaced does feel like a portal to the wider adventure we’re embarking upon, and less of a stand-alone story as we don’t reach any firm conclusions on the character. It does well to plant plenty of intrigue into what will follow up in the next book but I did feel this book was calling out for a story arc its own, especially as the rest of the series is yet to come. However, this aside, crisp writing and vivid, compelling worldbuilding and action retained my interest and left me wanting more!

I’m also hoping that Shelby and Zara’s story treads get the development and depth that Luther’s appeared to have; I want to find out what happens to them and how this ties together!

But these things aside, Displaced has a ton of positives going for it. I really enjoyed Dan’s writing style and voice, it really hit the nail – paradoxically hard-to-achieve of easy to read writing. The prose is not obstructive to the plot but it doesn’t lack style.

Overall thoughts on Displaced are that the quality of the prose and the richness of the world – combined with three intriguing and engaging plot threads, especially strongly on the part of Luther’s story – offset there not being as well-developed a stand-alone story arc for the book on its own as I feel it deserves. I see this as a very well-written and lusciously-built world and I’m eager and excited to see what Dan has planned next for the series!

My rating: Highly Recommended

Find out more information on Displaced on Dan’s website: danhook.co.uk

Displaced launches on Amazon on September 1st 2020 (paperback) and September 8th 2020 (Kindle)

reading, Reviews

Review: The Silence (Paperback)

I’m gradually learning to be a bit more adventurous with my book choices, and those efforts continue to pay dividends with The Silence.

I picked this book up not quite sure what to expect. This edition was a tie-in to a Netflix movie derived from the book that has middling reviews. I sensed something supernatural about The Silence, which may have been why it languished a little longer on my shelf than it ultimately warranted.

It’s an interesting premise: the apocalypse in The Silence is brought about not by aliens, or nuclear Armageddon, but by the unearthing in Moldova of an ancient, unknown species of reptilian creatures that have developed in the dark. Indeed, Pandora’s Box quickly opens wide and quickly these creatures, christened Vesps, begin to spread, causing havoc across Europe.

The narrative focusses on Ally and her family as they watch this disaster unfold on the news and through social media. There’s a sense of foreboding, waiting and inevitability from us, the reader, watching the Vesp menace get steadily closer to the United Kingdom. Indeed, the story unfolds over a matter of days where the world changes completely, and we follow Ally and her family, joined by Ally’s terminally-ill maternal grandfather and Ally’s father’s outdoorsman-like friends, with whom the families have coexisted in the same, small, sleepy town as the realisation sets in: to survive, the family must flee their lives as they’ve known for ever for an uncertain future far away, where safety from this unknown threat is not even assured.

So far, so good. The tension and sense of foreboding in these initial chapters is palpable, and the atmosphere – one of dread, a knowing that it’s a matter of time, and how these people cope – and don’t cope – really sends an electric tingle with every word. Indeed, scenes of panic-buying at shops in preparation for some kind of end-of-the-world scenario seemed prescient in the climate in which I write this review, with similar behaviour regarding the coronavirus pandemic the world is currently experiencing. Maybe that’s what made these brooding, dread-filled chapters resonate more – my real experience of this so recently perhaps attenuated my senses. It’s effective.

Quickly The Silence becomes a story about the journey, not the destination, but it’s less The Roadwhich I hated, and more One – a novel I adore. The journey is horrifying for various different reasons and it’s traumatic for everyone. The landscape shifts. The objective changes in the face of the facts presented on the road. Society is seen to slowly disintegrate as the journey progresses, leading to new twists.

What I liked about this was, with The Silence, along with One, and other post-apocalyptic books (The Girl With All the Gifts is a fine example) is that the story is about the journey and what it does to the characters. There is, I’ve noticed, not going to be a happy-ever-after at the story’s conclusion. The world has changed monumentally in all these stories. It’s a story of adaptation to survive, and to survive that traumatic transition from the comfortable life you and I can relate to into the horrors thrown against society and the characters we observe this through.

However, it’s not all perfect for The Silence. There’s a number of aspects and concepts I felt were good but not fully developed, which I think is a shame – they needed more time in the oven!

  • Ally decides to chronicle her experience of the Vesp invasion through a scrapbook app on her iPad, and she monitors the results of this through social media. Later in the book, as society slowly falls apart at the seams, “grey areas” without electricity develop across the country, threatening Ally’s memoir through the scourge of a dead battery, unable to be charged. This is nice but I feel it is somewhat shoehorned in as a little bit of an afterthought, with the brownouts beginning toward the last third of the book. And I don’t feel a massive affinity for Ally’s scrapbook as its knowledge being kept for posterity, and it isn’t called up on in the story in any real active way
  • One of the interesting themes is that Ally, as a protagonist, is deaf. The prose handles this pretty seamlessly – Ally “speaks”, but she signs. It’s revealed that the Vesps cannot see visually and are guided by sound. Late in the book we are introduced to a sort-of cult called The Hushed, led by a somewhat one-dimensionally ominous Reverend who want Ally to help their cause, the goals of which are unknown. We meet The Reverend for the first time at random, and he crops up in a series of increasingly-sinister vignettes until the end of the book.
  • The Vesps themselves, while having an interesting take on an origin, are essentially mindless pack animals in their hunting. I would’ve liked to have seen a more intelligent foe to contend with modern society, and I don’t think it would’ve been beyond a stretch of the suspension of disbelief from them having evolved in hidden caves to begin with.

These aren’t cardinal sins by any means – I enjoyed The Silence enough to wish that these had been done. But they’re not fatal errors or omissions by any means. The Silence is by no means a bad book – I certainly enjoyed it, but like I said before, these areas needed more time in the oven to really wring the most potential out of the story. That said, it was a punt that paid off for me and I would have no hesitation in giving it a recommendation – and I think Tim Lebbon is an author whose work I’ll be exploring more about in the future – The Silence was a vocal introduction.

Verdict: Recommended