Raw Blue in the UK!!

MATE GUESS WHAT?!!!! RAW BLUE IS BEING PUBLISHED IN THE UK!!!!1!!!!!!!!!

Yes, you read that right. The lovely people over at Catnip Books have commissioned the book to be published here on 1 August 2012!!! Just look at the cover! isn't it just divine? I love the colours and the fact that it is SO relevant to the story and check Carly out! just sitting on her surf board. ILY CARLY. 

  

I can't even explain how happy this makes me! Raw Blue is without a doubt, hands down, one of my all time favourite books (in case you guys hadn't already got that figured out! oh and appropriate review pimp here). And this means the book is going to be accessible to SO many more people now! and hey you guys in America? can I get a WHAT WHAT for book depository and the fact that you ALSO CAN BUY THE BOOK!! best news ever right? you are so totally welcome! so a great big HOORAY to both Kirsty and Catnip for breathing some fresh British air into this brilliant book. Can't wait to see it just sitting all fancy pants on a bookshelf in the store just like yeah no big. HOORAY!!

Something Like Normal by Trish Doller

Sometimes you finish reading a book and you don't quite know what to do with yourself. You sit in the quiet and thoughts are richocheting off each other in your mind and your heart aches from happiness, you then you get that feeling.  You know the one.  Where it feels like something has planted roots inside you and it's growing, growing, growing. And it grows so fast and quick that before you know it, it's everywhere.  All inside you.  It's in your head and it's in your heart and it's under your skin. That's this book. 

What can I say that hasn't been said hundreds of times about hundreds of books. Read this book? nope, not strong enough. A promising debut? nah, too trite. I love this book, and so will you! true, but not quite what I'm looking for. I'm trying hard to not just type the words "love" and leave it at that, because really, that's all I want you guys to know.  That I love this book. I love this book so much that I can't forget it. So much that I don't want to forget it.  So much that I have carried it around with me ever since I finished.  And I think you will love it to, and I'm going to tell you why.

Travis is home on leave after spending the past year in Afghanistan wearing a really sexy uniform serving his country in the marines. His family are waiting at the airport, except, this is weird right? this shouldn't feel so strange to Travis, this is home, but this is some fucking weird shit. His mom is super YAY happy to see him (ILY Travis's mom!!), his dad is a major dickface as per usual and his brother is being a total dude and banging his "girlfriend", so basically it's a shite welcome home.  Not to mention that his comrade and BFF 4 LYF Charlie died in combat, which blows chunks the size of fists. Throw in the fact that he can't handle life in this town where guns aren't shooting and bombs aren't blasting and nightmares are tearing him to shreds and well, Travis is a bit, shall we say.....fucked.  And there is the matter of a hot girl who has a mean right hook aka Harper aka The Boss aka The Shit aka BE MY FRIEND PLEASE?

Travis? I would hit that like a freight train. 

Ahem.

Trish has a way of intoxicating you with her characters.  You start off with Travis and you're like, oh shit, this burns a little and it's hard to swallow and it makes you shudder and do weird hand gestures.  Then you want some more and now it doesn't burn so much, now it's smooth skin with a bit of a kick. And it goes down so good that before you know it you feel all buzzed and excited.  Then you get a taste of Harper and you're like WELL HOLY SHIT, she's like straight up tequila shots right to your brain.  And by this point you're like I LOVE YOU ALL.  I LOVE EVERYTHING. GROUP HUG.  Because you're all drunk off these characters.

Okay, in all seriousness, Trish knows where it's at when it comes to realistic characters.  I have never wanted to punch a fictional dude in the face so badly. Because Travis! Y U NO LISTEN. He makes bad choices and does some stupid things and I'm like, duuuuuuuuude what gives? And Harper is so kick ass it is not even funny.  She's feisty and sassy and in my head she wears a leather jacket and smokes cigarettes and listens to 80's rock and drives a convertible that's all black and shiny (leave me be! that's what my brain thinks is cool!!!!1!) She doesn't actually do any of those things but whatevs, that's not the point.  My point is this - never before have I known characters to feel so real to me.  I think should they stroll into my house right this second, well, I wouldn't even bat an eyelid.  They're so genuine that I have a hard time believing they're not real. (no jokes, I spent a good half hour convinced they were real and Trish was playing a joke on us). They are flawed and engaging and so full of love it fucking hurts.  
I had this whole speil in my head about Travis and Harper and you know what, I don't even want to tell you guys.  Because the best things are left unsaid and this isn't something you want to read about here; that's something waiting for you to discover.  So go find the treasure.

And the writing is a dream. Proper lush.  Lush enough to devour in one go without stopping for breath. And to say it packs a punch is an understatement.  It will kick you relentlessly, it will tear at your heart and squeeze and sqeeze until you feel like you're going to burst.  Then it will soothe you with hugs and tender touches.  It is in a word; devastating.  Her writing is devastating to behold. One of the best books I have ever read.

I'm stopping now, I promise (soz for the rambling folks). But let me just leave you with this - Words are funny things. They can be shared and passed along.  They can form connections between people, no matter the distance. They have power. They can light sparks of thought in your minds and set fire to your heart. They can start wars and end them. And they can be put together into sentences, to make paragraphs, which then become books.  And when they're put together in the right way by the right person, they can become something amazing. And that is this book.  This book isn't something like normal.  It isn't even something like amazing.  It's something the likes of which you have never read before. And you are going to love it.

Review - When You Were Mine by Rebecca Serle

I've never been much of a Romeo and Juliet fan. Not even 12 year old me was swayed by the movie adaptation featuring my one true love, Leo DiCaprio.  In fact, it only made me loathe Juliet more – I still believe that if Angela Chase wasn’t brought into my life, I would still be harboring some serious resentment towards Claire Danes. Because how dare Romeo forget all about Rosaline! (who sounds like a riot) Such a guy move! So I never appreciated the story because I was solidly, unmovingly on Team Rosaline and well, Juliet could go swivel. Then along comes When You Were Mine and it was like fist pumping central!! A book after my own heart!  A modern day re-telling from Rosalines perspective!! SHAZAM! WE HAVE A WINNER.

Okay, so Rosaline and Rob have been best friends forever. But it’s the kind of friendship where you’re just waiting for the match to strike and set it on fire with hotness. And it’s almost happening!! They’re crackling and popping! When they kiss it’s like kablam, everything forever changed by this one moment.  And then he asks her out and it’s perfect, it’s meant to be! Let the epic love commence! (I utterly convinced myself that Juliet wouldn’t show up, naïve as I am, even though I really don't like Rob). But Juliet, Rose’s estranged cousin, is back in town and she makes it quite clear that she wants Rob, and what Juliet wants she gets (rage!!). All Rose can do is watch as the boy that’s meant to be hers slip out of her fingers.

You guys, I completely, utterly, LOVED THIS BOOK. Serle takes everything we know about the play and spins it right on its head – everything is fundamentally altered, and you may *think* you know the characters but you DON’T! And it is AMAZING. Take Rob – he is our Romeo and everyone loves Romeo right? WRONG! I loved this new spin on his character, stupid vapid boy that he is. Am I sympathetic to his plight for true love? Not in the slightest, in fact, I would quite like to kick him in his good stuff.  Do I want Juliet to get the man that she loves (whatevs!) – do I bugger, in fact, I would quite like to kick her too.

And Rose? I would totally have been friends with Rose in high school. Yes, she had her flaws and sometimes the over analyzing of every. single. thing.  made me want to tell her to CALM THE CRAP DOWN. But then I realised, not only did the guy she thought she was her Epic Love drop her faster than Britney’s first marriage, she is also just a teenage girl dealing with a broken heart. I love her and to be quite frank, Rob never did deserve her and I’m glad Juliet came along. THERE I SAID IT.

Also, the message this book gives you as a reader is what every teenage girl needs to hear. Not everything can happen how you want it to happen; especially not relationships. And you wanting something to work out doesn’t necessarily mean that it will, not when there are other people factored into the equation. And that was NAILED in the narrative, in the characters reactions to events and most importantly, in the execution of certain scenes.  I laughed, I cried, I got so angry I wanted to punch my own reflection (and I kind of have good feelings about my face) and I swooned.  YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT.  I am not even going to tell you *anything* about the swoon, just know that it was hot. Hot enough that I was singing “it’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes” TO MYSELF.

As achingly beautiful and tragically romantic (for some…..HA!!) as this story is, mainly it’s about having the hope and strength to know that even when it seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, it’s always there, just waiting for you to have the courage to find it. 

In which The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo makes me ROAR

I have tried really hard not to post spoilers.  But, alas, they are probably in here somewhere.  So, watch out and all that jazz.  

Firstly - this title is ridiculous.  The fact that Salander has a dragon tattoo has no impact or bearing on the story whatsoever.  It's pointless and silly.  This book for all intents and purposes could've been called the girl with the leather coat.  Which Salander also has, which also has nothing at all to do with the story.  

Secondly - this is a book very much written by a man about women.  Everything about this book screms I HAVE A PENIS.  From the start we know that Lisabeth is pretty much willing to throw down her clothes and fuck you senseless.  We know that she is irrevocably damaged to the point where you feel a like your going to barf so hard it comes out of your nose.  She's skinny to the point where she is described by a number of characters as being anorexic looking.  She herself knows she is no match physically for any bodily attack she might find herself under.  She's tiny and frail and broken.  Incomplete.  Not a whole person, but a damaged girl waiting for the right kind of care and attention to be bestowed upon her.  What a fucking load of misogynistic crap.

Thirdly - this book fascinated me to the point that I couldn't really concentrate on other things until I had read the whole book.  Because I do not truly get why we are given the impression that Lisabeth is a heroine.  She cuts herself off, she's introverted and socially awkward.  She rejects emotional support.  She refuses help from the people she has known the longest.  She doesn't tolerate other human beings and she shies away from any form of physical contact.  She is in one word: repressed.  And she remains so at the end of the book.  She is a character that exists solely as a kind of revenge fantasy.  She is a girl that never faces any of her problems, just uses them as ammo.

Fourthly - I gather from the numerous, to the point of wanting to poke my eyes out, references to the way Lisabeth dressed, I was supposed to judge her character based on her appearance. We are told too many times to count that she has sex tattoos.  And what? I have a friend who is the epitome of a playboy bunny, fake boobs and bleached hair to boot, who has 10 tattoos.  She has piercings and wears a lot of black.  And what? this is the 21st century, so do a large percentage of the population.  I guess I was supposed to believe she chose this outward appearance to make people keep their distance and to be wary of her.  But what a load of bullshit.  She is described as being slim and short, hardly the time of girl to depict fear in people because she dresses like a goth.  Please.  

Fifthy - Never have I read a book that degrades women so much. They are beaten and raped and manipulated to the point where I wanted to scream.  The low opinion the author seems to have for women just leaks out of the pages.  They're either weak, or frivolous, or always ready to drop their pants to fuck anything that walks.  

Sixthly - the violence in this book is extremely explicit and graphic.  They are almost gratuitous.  They are grossly mishandled.  

Seventhly - I get the feeling that I am supposed to be sexually attracked to Mikael.  In fact, I found him rather tiresome.  I have no interest in the financial well being of large compaines, nor trying to plot their demise by investigating rumors of tomfoolery.  The females in the book existed too as to solidify his sexual prowess and to let us know that even though every other male in the book under 70 was a misogynistic fuckhead, the he was the nice guy who would make love to you only if you wanted him to.  He existed merely as a means to an end, the token hot guy who helps the damaged broken girl and maybe shows her that love, yes love, is really all you need.  Pass me that bucket whilst I blow chunks of feminist rage.

Eightly - This is the first crime novel I have ever read.  I have never read a single review, nor have I read any discussions or whatever.  And yet I managed to solve the mystery of the whole book before either Mikael or Lisabeth.  I emailed my theories to two friends when I started the book and I was right about all of them.  Maybe if more time had been took into building a more convincing and interesting story line, and less time put into gloifyingly brutal rape scenes, then maybe this 5"7, 139lb girl, with one tattoo and 5 piercings wouldn't have been able to crack this pathetically lame and boring mystery.  Also, am I supposed to care about the Vangers? because well, I could care less.  But I really don't.

Ninth - Show not Tell was obviously not something that Larsson was aware of.  I lost count of the number of times the characters make sandwiches and we get a full run down of the contents they put on the bread.  Yes, characters eat, but I do not need a full on break down every damn time they want a snack.  It was laboriously boring and dull and pointless. If something horrifically digustingly violent wasn't happening, then it was descriptions of cups of coffee and what pickle they had on their sandwich for lunch that day.  

Tenth - Reading about violently disturbing rape scenes which serve no purpose to the storyline makes me sad.  It had little to no literary purpose except to further cement the fact that this book was far from a feminist read.

Eleventh - This book was prime time fucked up.  I won't be reading the sequel.  I've had quite enough of this anti feminist, misogynistic shit.  Now, I'm going to read a book about a princess, and hope the vivid vile images retreat into thin air.  And yes, I deleted the e-book when I finished reading.  I am rather sad I christened my Kobo with it to be quite honest.  

IT'SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS NOT CHRISTMAS

So, I am still sat in my amazingly soft new black and white retro dressing gown wandering around with a glass of wine and my new kobo permanently attached to my right hand.  This is beginning to become a problem but neither hand is willing to reliquish control me.  

The holidays are offically over and I think it's safe to say that I have simply ate everything in sight and have turned into a human vacum.  I hope you all got some lubbley gifts and have some funny drunk stories to share.  I realllllllly hope you got to spend it with the people that matter and that you wasn't forced upon some smelly realtive you only ever get forced to see at holidays.  

ALSO!! YAYYYYY!! I was the only guest blogger over at The Book Smugglers for christmas day celebrating Smugglivus, so if you want to read my guest post, you can do so here and quite rightly so.  I ramble about the books I luffed this year and also about the books I am salivating all over my MacBook for next year! and an update on my predictions from last year too!!

Some obligatory pictures of what my christmas looked like.

damn you empty glass!

Hope you all had a wonderful day and are still in slight food comas! I go to France on Friday! FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAAAAAAAAA <3

Grievances, i has them

The self published authors that make it their mission in life to make my blog email feel like a visit to the fiery pits of hell.

You know, I have this little thing called a review policy.  I know what my policy is, because, well shit, I wrote it.  So when you email me and tell me about this book that you wrote that is super amaze and if it could find a publishing house then it'd be number one on the NYT bestsellers list.  Then you go on to tell me that you published it urself! on the internets! Yeah, I have mad mad propps for you, I mean, to have the guts to publish a book online that's not been edited in the slightest, y'all have got balls of steel.  But when you email me and ask me to read it, you make urself look like a lazy dumb ass, because I don't accept self published books.  It says so right there in the policy, which if you had bothered to read, you would know.  

The bloggers who act like every author should be their BFF 4 LYF because they gave them the extraordinary pleasure of a review.

HEY! I'm one of you and I totally get how excited and ZOMMMMGGGGGGGG you can get when you find your favourite author on Twitter.  I get it. I really do.  I am a bat shit crazy fan girl. CRAZY.  I even sometimes hyperventalate when an author tweets me back.  Because WHO doesn't like actually getting to speak with a writer that you admire? It's fun and when it happens it's like YAY in ur head.  But when you constantly pester an author and tweet them like fifty gajillion times a link to ur review, you're not going to get a reply.  They are going to ignore you because your showing stalker status abilities right there.  Also, when you tweet emo things like "I really wish so and so would read my review" it makes me want to buy a copy of the book you keep banging on about just so i can shove it up ur ass.

The people who over hype the shittest pile of shit books in the whole entire world.

The word hype makes me gag.  If you go on and on and on and on about a book, then I probably will do anything in my power not to read it for pleasure, but maybe for shits and giggles.  You know the never ending emails, the never ending guests posts on every. single. blog, the constant reminders that this book is going to be the next BIG THING, it makes me want to vom right into my own hands.  And they are hardly ever good! DUDES! I could totally live with hype if the books were halfway decent! but 97% of them are dribble that makes me want to tear my head right out of my head.

The bloggers who make up fake blogs to call other bloggers and generally act like supreme twats.

You realise you just made urself look like the worlds biggest dick?  Because this is a community and hell, there a lot of bloggers that probably hate me and there are a lot of bloggers that make me want to throw my computer out of the window and I love my computer that much that I gave it a name.  But srsly? You are not going to like everyone.  It's a fact of life.  But making fake blogs to spread rumours about people is plain vile.  Act like a grown up.  You don't like a blogger? fine! that's you're right as a human! you get to decide who you do and do not like, but when you start a vendetta like that online, you cross the line.  You cross the line into bullying, and dude, that's not cool.

When people don't actually say what they mean and never actually mean what they say.

I call bullshit on a lot of stuff that happens in this little bookish corner of the internet.  And that's all i've got the say about that.

Those people who add you on goodreads when they don't even have one book in common with you.

DUDE! u read books about bugs and insects and I read books about girls that are real live princesses and guys that turn into wolves.  WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON.  so fuck off yeah?

When people try to make me follow them on twitter.

Here's the deal.......I do what I like.  I am a grown up, which means that I don't have to have people boss me around anymore and that I can have a liquid brunch if I want AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME.  So when you do stuff like send me a @ reply and be like, so I tried to send you a DM but you aren't following me, you know that makes me feel like a complete and utter natsy bitch right? But the thing is, I can do what I like, hence! I can follow who I like.  Don't try to make me feel bad for not following you, because the simple point of you telling me I don't follow you, just makes me glad that I don't follow you. 

When people call me Sam.

BITCH I AM NOT CALLED SAM.  

When people call me Sam in pitches for self pubbed books.

Bish, I took kick boxing lessons for 4 years.  Do not make me come find you.


yayyyyyyy <3 I love to have a good moan, good for the soul it is!

Update

Can you beleive that it's Christmas next week? I mean, 2011 is almost over and it feels like it's not even started yet.  Whoever is stealing time needs to stop that right now.  I want my year back.  And I want it gift wrapped.  With a shiny red bow.

I go to Paris in 14 days - I will be spending New Years in the city of love with my favoruite people.  There will be champagne at midnight, feet pounding around la defense, there will be bread and wine and cheese and french boys and point zero and the notre dame.  We have tickets for the Eiffel Tower the eveving of 31st.  I could not be more excited.  

I'm going to be quiet on the blogger front - I'm spending more time with it's much hotter friend Tumblr - You ever wanted to know what stuff goes through this head of mine and what words my mind spills into my hands? Then go to my tumblr - thecrookedshelf.tumblr.com - I've been posting super small exceprts and quotes from a little something thats working it's way out of my head.  Let me know what you think if you perchance happen to swing by.

I gave in.  I got an e-reader.  A Kobo Touch to be precise.  With the baby blue quilted back.  It is to live in a red leather case.  I love it like no other.  I may be a sell out but my heart does not care for I can carry all the books!! all in one nifty little device.

I gave up couting how many books I had read earlier on in the year. Because i'm lazy!! we already know this! Then I freaked the fuck out because I HAVE TO KNOW!! so I spent an agonising amount of time trying to work it out from the top of my head and SHOCKER!! it works! the grand total so far is 117! yayyyyyyyyyyyyyy waaaahwahhhhh my brain! and I still have like 10 or so more days! I can make it to 120 surely? I mean, I DO have this little handy electronic device.

All the comments that was left on my this is not goodbye post made me cry.  I am such a girl.  I love you all.