Time Travel in Glasgow

Daisy on the Outer Line – Ross Sayers, Book Review

Daisy is a 19 year old Strathclyde Uni student who works in Boots. She has a steadily increasing alcohol problem and drives away anyone who cares for her before they can reject her. Her stepdad has just died, and Daisy has rampaged her way through his purvey (a post funeral reception), because if everyone’s going to expect the worst of her then she can’t let them down can she? And she never even knew him anyway so what’s the big deal?

Daisy on the Outer Line Cover is featured in a garden next to a small loch

Daisy, Oh Daisy, what are we going to do with you? Stick you on a mysterious, after hours train on the Outer Line of the Glasgow Underground and send you back in time to act as a witness to your own follies is what.

At her darkest moment, Daisy is taken under the wing of her very own Clarence-like angel – Yotta and sent rattling back 16 days. Her mission? To undo some unknown wrong, and under no circumstances be seen by her past self. But with no money, nowhere to stay and no idea what she’s doing, can Daisy overcome her own fuckwittery and find her way home?

Daisy on the Outer Line has been lined up as one of my must reads for 2020 since last November – I’ve been raving about it since I heard it was coming out for one simple reason – Ross Sayers makes me laugh. Hard. More than that, his writing is infused with kindness and takes complex imperfect characters and drills them into your heart.

His previous book Sonny and Me is still one of my “you HAVE to read this” recommendations (though that is less philosophical and more out right laugh out loud), so when I heard he was taking my favourite trope – time travel – and running with it I was THERE for it. Do I regret my anticipation? Not for a second. Despite months of daydreaming my ideal version of a Scots Time Travel comedy novel, Sayers has still exceeded my expectations, because I was not for a second anticipating a character like Daisy.

She is a lost, lonely teenage girl, disenfranchised and steadily disengaging with the world around her, which as anyone who was a Scottish teenager can attest too, very quickly leads to the bottom of a bottle, horrific mistakes and staring into the abyss wondering if there’s any point. Then the Glasgow underground rattles around and Daisy is given a gift. The journey of self-awareness that Yotta propels her on is funny, and emotional and eye opening, and life-affirming and it is written with Sayers’ trademark sense of cheesy humour. I laughed through the dark bits and cried through the joyful ones, and if that isn’t the sign of a belter of a book then I don’t know what is. I adored it and I adored Daisy and the final chapter made me squeal for joy at the potential for world building and spending more time with her.

Part of my love for this book may have been because it felt like coming home. Islanders from the Hebrides have a tendency to spend a lot of time in Glasgow – it’s very much viewed as our home away from home and there is a natural affinity there. In all of Sayers novels he has managed to turn his settings into characters in and of themselves – Skye, Stirling and now Glasgow are so strongly invoked that the locations are brought to life through not only the familiar sensations and locations, but the characters that inhabit them. Anyone who has spent an iota of time in Glasgow will find themselves transported back there with Daisy, and it’s going to be very hard to resist trying to catch the last train on the Outer Line next time I’m there. But this is not usually the case for me – I struggle with Peter May’s books because the familiarity is too jarring for me, despite others adoring them – so it is a testament to the writing and the quality of characters here that I never once felt jarred by following round the familiar landmarks, just excited to see what happened next.

I love this book so much, that I’m going to give away a copy as a prize, Just head over to either Instagram or Twitter (one or the other is fine) and follow the instructions by Saturday 14^th at 8pm (GMT) and you could win a copy of one of the best Scottish novels of the year.

The Ghost Tree by Christina Henry – Review

The Ghost Tree by Christina Henry (White cover with silhouettes) is held up against an autumnal forest scene. — The Ghost Tree by Christina Henry

1980s Small town America, and two young girls are found brutally torn apart within the unnerving forest of Smith’s Hollow. Local teenager Lauren is having debiliatating visions of the attack, despite not having witnessed it; her best friend Miranda is more interested in losing her virginity than hanging out with her; Lauren’s little brother is stoically aware of details no 4 year old should know and newly arrived big city cop Alex Lopez is nonplussed to find out just how unfazed the community is. On top of all this, Lauren’s father was also brutally murdered and not only has the murder not been solved, but Lauren seems to be the only one who still cares.

The Ghost Tree has a lot going on in it but it’s all expertly woven together into a gorey bloody horror with an intriguing narrative, particularly as the legacy of the town in uncovered. It felt a little odd to go from gorey to mythology as opposed to a psychological build up and a gorey climax, but I actually enjoyed the flip of expectation.

Henry explores small town divisions, racism, misogyny and the repercussions of letting hate and anger guide your decisions in an original new fairytale full of witches; curses; monsters; the pain of coming of age and re-shaping your relationships with friends and family as you grow in and out of them.

A great October read full of atmosphere, tension and blood.

The Dragon Awakes – Night of the Dragon book review

I have to open this review with a massive – MAHOOSIVE – apology. I was on the blog tour for this book a couple of weeks ago and was kindly sent a copy to review and was preparing to begin it and then Boom. The world went to shit, and my brain very quickly followed.

There has been bags of discussion online about the effects of anxiety and what impact the “new normal” (god I hate that phrase, almost as much as I’ve come to hate the word ‘unprecedented’) has on mental health so I’m not going to get into it as I’m sure you’re all trying to manage your own stuff – you don’t need to manage mine too! But, needless to say, reading has not been going well for me the last few weeks.

All those caveats out of the way; we can get down to business and the reason you are here – a better-late-than-never review of the beautiful and glorious Night of the Dragon by Julie Kagawa.

Night of the Dragon

First thing’s first. Night of the Dragon is the final part of the Shadow of the Fox trilogy, so you are likely in one of two camps: You’ve read the first two and been waiting on tender hooks for the conclusion or you’ve not touched the series. In which case GET ON IT.

The Shadow of the Fox trilogy concerns itself with a young half Yokai named Yumeko who inadvertently and tragically finds herself as the protector of the infamous Dragon Scroll – an ancient and mysterious prayer which can summon the Great Immortal Dragon once every 1000 years for a single, world changing wish. Along the way her kindness and innocence attract a band of loyal followers, Okame the disgraced Ronin, Daisuke the minor Royal and expert swordsman, Reika the stern Shrine Attendant and Tatsumi, the brooding half-demon assassin who is tasked with finding the scroll for his own clan’s use.

In the enthralling conclusion, Night of the Dragon, Yumeko and her rag tag group must journey to the territory of the mysterious and illusive Moon clan and stop the Master of Demons from summoning evil and darkness into the world. What they don’t know is that the Master of Demons is not their greatest threat and that there is an even more sinister game at play. One they are not prepared for.

The Story of Yumeko and her friends has kept me gripped from start to finish. Essentially a road trip novel through the sprawling hypnotic land of Iwagoto, the mythology that is built and obstacles that are faced are perfect escapism into a captivating world of fantasy. Yumeko’s naivety is at times a little grating, but never enough to turn you off the story. And this conclusion proves that no one is safe and earns more than a few tears as it ratchets up the consequences of the epic power struggle.

This is a sprawling beautiful, exciting tale with engaging characters and a genuine sense of jeopardy as the heroes fight to prevent their world literally turning into hell. But definitely start with the first one. There is so much depth to this story, it would be a shame to miss any of it.

Crime Thriller puzzles for the perfect escapism – Book Review

IMG_20200405_005112_028 — Arrowood and the Thames Corpses by Mick Finlay

In the underbelly of 19th century London, the downtrodden and overlooked don’t have the same access to the protections and justice offered to the higher echelons of society. So while Holmes searches out treasure and unravels mysteries worthy of front page news, those living in the slums and sewers have only one recourse open to them – William Arrowood and his hired muscle Norman Barnett.

Living a hand to mouth existence themselves, Arrowood and Barnett are desperate for work, feel the impacts of their vices both financially and mentally and find themselves emotionally raw when it comes to relationships and family.

So when Captain Moon and his daughter come to them with a seemingly straightforward tale of professional rivalry and sabotage, the sleuths for hire jump at the chance to earn some earn and much needed cash. But they are not prepared for the web of murder and revenge in which they find themselves entangled.

Arrowood and the Thames Corpses by Mick Finlay is a mystery thriller for fans of historic crime: it’s no mistake that it’s set in the same universe as Sherlock, but it does offer more depth than any Arthur Conan Doyle tale I’ve read. While I enjoy a Holmes classic, I always get frustrated by the conclusions based on the flimsiest of assumptions, the giant leaps of logic and the thin characterisation. Arrowood fixes all those problems for me.

The puzzle is as complex and maze-like as you would expect, but the route to unravelling it is logical, believable and heartbreakingly tragic in some places. Neither Arrowood nor Barnett are overly likeable, drowning as they are in their self-pity, ego and often brutal manipulations of the surrounding characters, but they are fully realised, flawed men and their breadth of character pulls you into the story and engages you fully.

At times, the wealth of supporting characters can get confusing, especially the burly men and characters whose threads are left hanging. But the stench and poverty of London’s darker side is tanglible and the tragedy of people, particularly children, who are trying to scrape some semblance of a life together in the face of constant fear and danger is particularly well depicted.

Some revelations you will see coming a mile away, but mostly the information is provided on a need to know basis, allowing the story to unfold and most of the reveals to happen as Arrowood and Barnett themselves figure them out.

All in all, a grim, dark but satisfyingly escapist crime mystery.

Arrowood and the Thames Corpses was published on 2 April 2020 and is available now.

A wild tale of Brexit and power – Book Review of Echo Cycle

I suck at languages. My memory is awful so I can never remember vocab for any length of time. Ask me to tell you my favourite joke and I literally go blank. So as a kid I decided that rather than picking a useful live language that I was guaranteed to fail at I was going to spend 6 years at school studying Latin. This did two things: – it allowed me to have a dictionary (more of a blow by blow word list) in exams and it made me completely and utterly obsessed with ancient Rome.

To this day I couldn’t translate any Latin for you (except to tell you that Canis is dog!) but I am still completely obsessed with the ancient Roman period, so Echo Cycle by Pa

Echo Cycle

trick Edwards was exactly my bag.

In the near future (2050) Winston Monk is on one of the last trips permitted to travel abroad as Britain becomes ever more isolationist. He is hoping to make his escape more permanent before Britain shuts it’s borders for good, but he receives devastating news causing him to go on an epic bender taking out his class bullies while he’s at it.

Then while nursing his hangover and trying to build up the courage to face the consequences of his actions, something insane happens: Monk falls through a time rip, landing him in the Ancient Rome he has long obsessed over. But no matter his knowledge and instinct for survival he is a fish out of water in a brutal and unforgiving time.

Jump forward 20 years to 2070 and Monk’s only friend from school, Banks, has made it back to Rome as part of a diplomatic mission tentatively feeling out the possibilities for reopening the borders. While beginning to question the choices that Britain has made he bumps into a vagrant bearing an uncanny resemblance to the friend who disappeared 20 years earlier and with a wild and improbable story to tell involving slaves, gladiators and ancient magic.

There is so so much going on in this book that I was worried it would be too much. There’s futuristic utopias and dystopias; a heavy handed post Brexit political critique; time travel; Ancient classics; history lessons; magical realism; power mad villains; strong LGBTQIA representation; political rhetoric on refugees and environmentalism and echoes of ancient legends as well as a couple of main characters that should rightly be unlikeable. Monk is fairly arrogant and well satisfied with himself, and Banks is a drippy middle aged man who’s self-pity is not the most attractive quality…and yet: all these things are blended and swirled together so beautifully and expertly that what emerges is a mad-cap insane belter of an adventure that sweeps you along from the first page and which you are never entirely sure where it’s going to land or what’s going to happen next – even with only 20 pages to go.

Monk’s arrogance gives just enough leeway to make him a possible unreliable narrator – causing enough uncertainty that you are never sure if his crazy story is possible or if he’s, as Banks comes to believe, delusional; but it also gives him enough force to make his story compelling and possible.

Banks’ limp and apologetic presentation and transformation under the gentle encouragement of foreign nationals serves as an allegory for Britain itself as it begins to look more outward after a dark period of stubborn denial of its own flaws.

And Sporus is…cruel and loyal and mad and ethereal and completely and utterly captivating.

Echo Cycle is insane, and it’s not going to be for everyone (If you believe that Britain and America are beyond reproach and are absolutely making the right decisions at the moment, this book is not for you.). But it’s a beautiful mix of Blade Runner meets Gladiator and a ridiculously enjoyable ride.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Don’t mess with the librarians – Book Review of The Library of the Unwritten

Claire is not a Librarian, she’s an ex-human book wrangler. And in Hell’s library that’s an extreme sport.

20200211_085535 Hell’s Library is vast; filled with all the books that have been dreamt up but left incomplete or never written. It’s a treasure trove of abandoned possibilities which may yet come to fruition. But every so often the books get restless of waiting and they wake up. Claire’s job is to keep them from escaping before their time and unleashing chaos; a job which has kept her so busy that she’s forgotten that she also protects this pot of powerful imagination from some of the worst denizens across the afterlife dimensions. Demons who would do anything to get their hands in the raw power contained on her shelves.

Such is the set up for The Library of the Unwritten, the first in a new fantasy series by A.J. Hackwick with a sizzling concept.

Claire and her library assistant, ex-muse Brevity, are perfect as the leads supported by nervous newbie demon Leto. Full of doubt, regrets and self-recrimination yet having to find some self-awareness and fight through their own issues to protect the inter-dimensional library system from apocalyptic upheaval.

In fact, Claire and her Library team were so charismatic and engaging that it left other characters in the dust. Ramiel and the hubris of angels was the weak link in the story for me, as I found myself desperate to get past those chapters which didn’t follow Claire. But his arc leaves him in a place that is more promising for future instalments. Hero as well spends much of his development in what feels like a set up for future books, and again one that I’m excited to see the pay off.

Despite the glamourous inter-dimensional hopping through afterlives old and older, it’s the more personal character moments and stories that give this story its heart, and a surprising amount of emotional resonance in a twist which you think you see coming, but then it ducks and weaves through its own narrative self-awareness to become something new. And better.

As a new series it’s a little slow to get going; there’s a lot of complex and very big ideas to establish and explain before the story can really start to run, but once it does find itself it soars, promising a thrilling series ahead. While I may have struggled a little to begin with, by the end I was pre-ordering the next in the series (and rather excited to find it’s out later this year).

And again I’m a sucker for anything to do with rebellious and subversive librarians!

The Library of the Unwritten is published today (11 February 2020) by Titan Books

Book Review – The Stars We Steal by Alexa Donne

A Black and Blue book cover with silver sparkles. Placed on a black table cloth with gemstones around it. — This may be the prettiest book that I have ever been sent.

Take a dash of Austen social comedy, the trappings of the European aristocracy and the complications of family drama and first love and throw them into a space ship some 200 years in the future and you’ve got the sumptuous romance adventure The Stars We Steal by Alexa Donne.

Following a sudden global ice age that renders Earth uninhabitable, the survivors of humanity are orbiting the planet on an ageing and crumbling fleet. Against a backdrop of rising insurgency and depleting resources, the rich and privileged are coming together for their once every four years engagement ritual – the Valg – a month of intense dating events intended to shore up the wealth and power of those at the top of the social hierarchy.

Princess Leo Kolburg us reluctantly taking part in order to save her family’s ailing ship, but love is the last thing on her mind, until her first love and once fiance Elliot Wentworth appears with a new found fortune, a mysterious business venture and a large chip on his shoulder, immediately becoming the most eligible bachelor of the season.

As a romance novel the key thing I look for is the chemistry between the main romantic pairing and Leo and Elliot had it in spades. Elliot is prickly to say the least, and Leo is privileged and ridiculously blind to what’s going on around her. Both of these are recognisable Austen character types (not a surprise as The Stars We Steal takes Persuasion as its narrative template.) But where other books which try to replicate these character tropes end up making their leads unlikeable and irritating, Donne manages too walk that fine line where, despite their flaws, you genuinely root for Leo and Elliot to overcome their differences and misunderstandings and find their way back to each other.

That some side characters and their feelings may be treated as disposable in this journey is too often the case with romance stories; they are there as obstacles after all, but Donne manages to keep this on the right side of palatable with some deft character choices.

What was a little more jarring was the contrast between the archaic social rules, the traditions of yore and the grandiose space elements of sci-fi. Even with character acknowledging this and commenting on the old fashioned-ness of it all, these elements didn’t gel as much as I could have wished for. But I love Austen and I love sci-fi so I was disposed to forgiving this, suspending disbelief and just enjoying the ride.

And it was a pretty enjoyable ride. I cared about the characters, the end was satissfying and the chemistry was tangible. A definite read for fans of romance; think the 100 meets Jane Austen.

⭐⭐⭐

The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters – Book Review

Never having read any of the Amir Sisters’ series before, despite being an avid fan of

20200111_145035

author Nadyia Hussain’s Bake Off career, I was nervous that I would be playing catch up with this – the third in the series. But I shouldn’t have worried.

Told from the point of view of Mae Amir, the youngest daughter of a large Bengali family The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters is a humorous, heartwarming romp through family life as Mae tries to figure out her place in the world and her new position in the family she is tentatively spreading her wings from.

Struggling with loneliness and self-confidence issues Mae finds herself starting to make choices she is not always comfortable with but unable to turn to anyone for support – as she is usually the foundation they lean on – a situation which is no longer tenable as Mae grows up, and yet no one seems to have noticed.

There’s a lot going on in the story, and references made to previous stories, but I never felt lost. Despite being part of an ongoing series, Hopes and Triumphs made an excellent stand alone book (although I am keen to catch up on the rest of the series now) and Mae was a balanced compassionate heroine with an identifiable struggle of feeling overwhelmed with finding her own identity outside of a family of very big personalities.

But despite the apparent lightness of the story it doesn’t shy away from more serious subject matter –racism, unnoticed prejudices, micro-aggressions and the dangers of sexual assault, are all touched on as well as the cultural barriers Mae faces to being allowed to spread her wings and explore the bigger world beyond the Amir households.

It’s a lovely, funny, satisfying story with loveable, fully realised characters and genuine relatable family drama. Can’t wait to read the rest of the series!

⭐⭐⭐⭐

She by HC Warner

20200119_131934 (1) Ben and Bella appear to be the perfect couple. Ben is nursing a broken heart after getting out of a long term relationship, and then flirty, sexy Bella pops up in his life and things just seem to click. At least on paper. In reality the red flags start to pop up and Ben finds his life spiralling and his family being torn apart. But it’s just a coincidence. Right?

There are elements of She by HC Warner which really merit a gripping thriller. The complexities of domestic violence committed against men and the hard time people around them have accepting it for instance warranted a more in depth look at the patriarchal constructs that prevent men accessing support and the terror that can arise from unexpected places. But honestly that’s trying to wring something out of what is essentially a competent but ultimately fairly boring thriller.

She is a colour by numbers tale drowning under adjectives and misogynistic clichés. Women are continually compared and pitted against each other. Bella’s psychosis is not really depicted as anything other than over the top vengeance, and despite nearly two thirds of the book being written from a woman’s point of view, the female characters never felt like anything more than 2 dimensional characters fighting over some men. One of whom really wasn’t worth fighting over.

The story is broken into three parts, the first told from Ben’s point of view, and the second a repeat from Bella’s point of view, the third is told from a more omniprescent point of view but at least goes beyond the plot points of the first two chapters. While the shifting viewpoints provides some interest, you’ll likely spot the bulk of the twist coming by the end of the first section and from that point it does get very repetitive, and increasingly desperate to try and throw some sort of scandal in, to the point that it jumps the shark somewhat.

A decent read, but not one I’d rush to recommend.

Who needs friends when you can have followers? – Book Review

The shiny brightly coloured cover of Followers by Megan Angelo hides beneath it a dark tale of corruption and the skewing of reality in a neat representation of the social and moral questions the book asks with regard to Social Media.

20191214_101557 — Reading Followers next to the River Ness in Inverness, Scotland

Followers juxtaposes two different timelines: one in 2015 where two young ambitious women, Orla and Floss, find common ground in the creation of a social media personality and become intoxicated with the power and notoriety it brings; the second is much further in the future, in 2051 after a mysterious world-changing event known as the Spill. Marlow has grown up in the public eye, in the media city of Constellation; a place reminiscent of the Truman Show but with full awareness by the participants. Here volunteers have stepped up to be watched and commented on by the American public in a fully pervasive government run form of reality TV. The media world has broken into extremes since the events of the Spill – professional content makers and those that avoid it completely. The general public no longer trusts the internet and is generally much more tech averse causing a desperate Government to go to extremes to encourage them to make use of the state run services.

Marlow entered Constellation as a child with her parents and has only faint memories of life before. But a new “story line” she is presented by her network starts her asking questions about what constitutes her life, what she wants from it and what the past, that her mother has worked so hard to run from, is, setting her on a quest to find answers.

Harper Collins is describing Followers as 1984 for the Instagram generation. It’s not a bad analogy, though like the social media followers its’ heroines have to navigate, it remains to be seen if Followers will stick around long enough to warrant the comparison.

What seems a more fitting comparison is an episode of Black Mirror; very well written, unsettling and horrifying; a stark demonstration of the dystopian paths we risk with our reliance on different forms of technology and obsessions with social media.

It’s a complex plot which is neatly laid out so that you know there is a link between the two timelines, but you’re never entirely sure of what that link is until the book wants you to know.

None of the characters should be likeable. Floss is narcissistic, manipulative and shallow; Orla is at times insipid, always desperate and fairly selfish and Marlow, as a result of her upbringing, struggles to demonstrate any sense of agency or opinion. They have all done bad things, from the carelessly uncaring to the downright unforgiveable, and yet these women are compelling in their flaws and complexity. We all know hundreds of people like Floss and Orla (although the combination of the two women is clearly toxic), we may even have acted like them from time to time, and so even in the depths of their mistakes they are identifiable. Marlow is less recognisable as her storyline is a warning of possible consequences – but one which many children growing up now may face (albeit in a milder form) as they encounter their parents’ social media presence.

It’s an engaging and thought –provoking read but also highly entertaining.

Followers by Megan Angelou is released today: 9 February 2020