To finish or not to finish?

Among the countless “best of 2012” lists out there, Laura Miller’s recent piece for Salon, “Five Books I Bailed On in 2012” caught my attention. Every serious reader I know, myself included, has given up on a book before. Some of us feel unreasonable guilt about this; some will only give up right away, or not at all; some force themselves to read at least halfway before jumping ship. But, we try to convince ourselves, we are reading for pleasure. No one is forcing us to finish every book we start, and in fact, isn’t our time better spent finding and reading books we truly enjoy?

These unfinished books linger in limbo, on our “partially-read” or “on the back burner” shelves on Goodreads. Maybe we’ll return to them someday; some of them we’ll never open again. I consulted my own shelf of unfinished books to make a “books I bailed on” list like Laura Miller’s. I should note that (a) these were books I started in 2012, not necessarily books that were published in 2012, and (b) the experience of reading is, of course, entirely subjective; feel free to disagree with my opinions.

landinglightherebulletLanding Light by Don Paterson and Here, Bullet by Brian Turner.

These volumes have nothing in common except that they are both books of poetry that I ordered from the library.  However, I find it necessary to read poems in small doses; I’ve never read a book of poems straight through, because I need time to absorb and reflect. But then I put the book down and pick up something else…and then it’s time to return it to the library. (This is why I prefer owning books of poetry rather than borrowing them.) A more disciplined approach – one poem a night before bed, or one every morning before getting up – is a great idea in theory, but not one I’ve been able to pull off. However, the fact that I didn’t finish these books doesn’t mean I didn’t like them; I’d recommend both.

Paterson is a Scottish poet; Turner is an American soldier who fought in Iraq and who holds an MFA from the University of Oregon. I first read about Landing Light in the New York Times and the poem included in the article, “Luing,” is one of my favorites, especially the last three lines. I discovered Here, Bullet via the Times as well; I collected fragments from various poems in the collection in my Goodreads review.

whitedressesGirls in White Dresses by Jennifer Close

I was tricked into picking this up by the flap copy (which made it sound like literary fiction instead of chick lit) and inexplicably good reviews (“genuinely empathetic…richly satisfying” –Booklist, “modern and funny…original” –Library Journal, “artfully spare prose” –Publishers Weekly). I found it to be frustratingly superficial, and put it down after 47 pages.

woulditkillyouWould It Kill You to Stop Doing That: A Modern Guide to Manners by Henry Alford

I enjoyed this, but was eager to move on to other books. Alford is intelligent and pleasant to read, but if you have to choose between this rant on manners and Lynn Truss’ excellent Talk to the Hand, I’d recommend the latter.

whiteforestThe White Forest by Adam McOmber

This book’s flap copy, cover, and reviews all drew me in; it looked like exactly the kind of book I would like, if not love. Yet after 15 pages, I wasn’t drawn into the story or compelled by the characters. I may pick it up again in the future – maybe it was just one of those “right book at the wrong time” cases – but probably not.

dovekeepersThe Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman

This is one I may come back to at some point. I’ve liked Alice Hoffman’s books in the past (Practical MagicThe Story Sisters), and I didn’t dislike this one; it just didn’t grab me, and I had a few other books I was more excited about reading at the time.

telegraphaveTelegraph Avenue by Michael Chabon

This is the big one. With the exception of Wonder Boys, I have loved every Michael Chabon book I’ve read, and so I had high hopes for Telegraph Avenue, and yet, on page 199, I threw in the towel. The bones of a good story are there, and the foundations of good characters; I especially liked Aviva and Gwen, the wives of the two main adult male characters, and main characters in their own right. I’m also sympathetic to the plight of independent stores to big corporate stores (as are many of Chabon’s readers, I suspect). So why did I put it down? It seemed as though the writing, instead of revealing the story, was obscuring it. I’m all for writing that is both intellectual, colorful, and poetic, but this was just too over the top for me. It was with regret but also relief that I put it down unfinished.

Agree? Disagree? What books linger on your back burner?

Cross-posted on the Robbins Library blog.

Edited to add: Tim Parks wrote an article (“Why Finish Books?”) for the New York Review of Books blog on March 13, 2012 that touches on a different aspect of the “to finish or not to finish” question. Parks clearly agrees that if you are not enjoying a book, it is perfectly okay to stop reading and pick up a book you will enjoy instead; however, he also posits that some readers might stop reading books that they are enjoying, and that does not necessarily mean that the book was bad or that the reader didn’t like it, just that the reader had had enough. It is an interesting article, whether or not you agree. -4/18/13

More 2012 favorites

Cross-posted as “Favorites of 2012” on the Robbins Library blog.

My colleague Linda posted her favorite reads of the year a few days ago, and we’ve definitely enjoyed some of the same ones: I too would highly recommend the fresh and funny Where’d You Go, Bernadette?the wise, wonderful and heartbreaking The Fault in Our Stars, the paranoia-inducing Gone Girl, and the erudite essays in More Baths, Less Talking.

To these, I’ll add a few of my own, with links to reviews (below). These are books I’ve read in 2012, not necessarily books published in 2012, though many of them were.

Fiction

gold2 Gold by Chris Cleave

The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman

Cascade by Maryanne O’Hara (this is our Staff Picks book for February, and Maryanne herself will be joining us for the discussion!)

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

rulesofcivility Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain

Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel (sequel to Wolf Hall; both books won the Booker Prize)

Arcadia by Lauren Groff


The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet
by David Mitchell (author of Cloud Atlas)

Vaclav and Lena by Haley Tanner

Maine by J. Courtney Sullivan

Fault in our Stars The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher

Nonfiction

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir by Jenny Lawson (a.k.a. The Bloggess)

The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell (I listened to the audiobook)

Agree? Disagree? What are some of your recent favorites? Leave a comment!

Favorite Books of 2012

Today at work, I got an e-mail requesting staff send in their picks for favorite books of 2012. (Have I mentioned how much I like working in a library?) We were to submit no more than three each, which as every avid reader knows is a difficult-to-impossible task. However, it’s easier to think of it as “three of your favorite books” rather than “your three favorite books.”

With that caveat in mind, I headed over to my Goodreads page (I ❤ Goodreads) and sorted my shelf of books I had read by date read. Mentally, I filtered out books that were published before 2012; this meant I couldn’t include obvious shoo-in Rules of Civility by Amor Towles or The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh, both published in 2011.

And yet: so many good books came out this year! The marvelous John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars, Maria Semple’s fresh and original Where’d You Go, Bernadette?, Hilary Mantel’s Bring Up the Bodies, the much-feted sequel to Wolf Hall…and then there are the nonfiction books, such as Jenny Lawson’s laughter-and-tears-inducing memoir, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, and Ken Jennings’ clever Because I Said So: The Truth Behind the Myths, Tales, and Warnings Every Generation Passes Down to Its Kids.

Yet in the end, here are the three I chose:

gold2GOLD by Chris Cleave
Set before and during the London Olympics, Gold is timely; yet it is timeless in the way that it represents people’s best and worst natures, particularly the struggle between career ambitions and family life. Kate and Zoe are close friends and rival cyclists, competing for one spot on the London Olympic team. Zoe is focused solely on training, while Kate has a family: her husband Jack, another Olympian, and their eight-year-old daughter Sophie, who is battling leukemia. Flashbacks to earlier periods in the characters’ lives reveal crucial backstory in this wrenching novel.

lightbetweenoceansTHE LIGHT BETWEEN OCEANS by M.L. Stedman
This is a beautiful book with strong characters and a thought-provoking central dilemma. Tom Sherbourne returns from fighting in the Great War and takes a job as a lighthouse keeper on a remote island of the coast of Australia; he and his wife, Isabel, are deeply in love, but Isabel is inconsolable over her inability to have a child. When a lifeboat washes up on their beach containing a dead man and a live baby, Isabel begs Tom to keep it. The Light Between Oceans is the extraordinary story of that decision, and of how to act in the present when the past cannot be changed.

cascadeCASCADE by Maryanne O’Hara
“Life is full of tough choices between less-than-perfect alternatives,” says one character in this Depression-era novel, and that about sums it up for twenty-six-year-old Desdemona Hart. Dez married Asa Spaulding to provide stability for her ailing father, who died a few months later. Asa doesn’t understand Dez’s reluctance to start a family, but traveling artist Jacob does: Dez wants to go to New York City to pursue her career in art. On top of this dilemma, the town of Cascade is itself at risk: men from Boston visit the town as a potential site for a new reservoir. Will Dez fight to save the town and her father’s famous playhouse, or will she flee to follow her dream? The historical setting is vivid, and Dez is a compelling character; the decision she must make is one that many people still face today.

Recent Reads: Fiction

I will never get through my “to-read” list, because writers keep writing books and publishers keep publishing them. Alas! Here are a few new-ish novels that I’ve read recently and really enjoyed. Somewhat incidentally, all but one feature teen narrators, and that one (Accelerated) has an eight-year-old character.

 Son by Lois Lowry

Son is the final book in The Giver quartet: The Giver, Gathering Blue, and Messenger. After The Giver, it is my favorite; it ties every strand of story and character together. It begins with Claire, a Birthmother in the community where Jonas lived in The Giver. In fact, Claire is only a few years older than Jonas, and it is her son, Gabe, who Jonas takes with him when he leaves for Elsewhere. Due to an oversight, Claire does not receive the emotion-suppressing pills that all other community members take, and she grieves over Gabe’s disappearance; the rest of the book is her journey to find him again. Dark and heart-wrenching, this is a satisfying end to the quartet, though I believe it can also stand alone.

 Where’d You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple

I read this on the strength of Ken Jennings’ recommendation, and loved it. Precocious, teenage Bee narrates: her father is a high-ranking Microsoft employee and her mother, the titular Bernadette, is an award-winning – but reclusive and eccentric – architect. Bee narrates, but the narrative is interspersed with letters, e-mails, and official documents to and from the adults in her life. The settings come alive as well: tech-savvy, hippie-filled Seattle; competitive, nutty Southern California; a peek into an east coast boarding school; and of course, Antarctica. Where’d You Go, Bernadette? is Bee’s unraveling of that very question: she is in search of her mother, figuratively and literally. A smart, funny book that also delves into deeper issues, such as mental illness and mother-daughter relationships.

 Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt

In Westchester, NY, in 1987, thirteen-year-old June Elbus is grieving over her uncle (and godfather) Finn, who died from AIDS. Her family, especially her mother and sister, don’t think June’s grief is appropriate, but Finn’s “special friend” Toby reaches out to June, and after a few awkward hitches, they form a friendship. From Toby, June begins to learn things her family has kept her in the dark about, and some things that even her family doesn’t know. The author evokes the power and complication of sibling relationships, both between June and her sister Greta, and their mother and her brother Finn. The treatment of AIDS, especially the fear, stigma, and ignorance surrounding it, is a compelling reminder of they way things were twenty-five years ago.

 Accelerated by Bronwen Hruska

Sean’s wife Ellie has left him and their eight-year-old son, Toby. Sean struggles along in single-dad mode, but Toby’s private prep school – paid for by Ellie’s parents – is pressuring Sean to have Toby evaluated for ADD/ADHD and put on drugs that Sean doesn’t think Toby needs. Eventually he knuckles under, with disastrous consequences, which spur him to investigate why so many of the kids at the Bradley School are on these meds. He enlists the help of Toby’s new teacher, Jess, and the two of them become romantically entangled as well. This is a literary novel with some thriller elements. Certain aspects require a willing suspension of disbelief, but the larger issue of medication in education remains.

What makes a good book club book?

First off: this question assumes that at least one of the main purposes of a book club is to discuss a book with friends and acquaintances whose opinions and ideas you respect. Other purposes can certainly include wine, cheese, chocolate, gossip, etc., but in the context of this post, “book club” refers to a group whose members read (at least partially) and discuss (at least for a while) books on a semi-regular schedule.

 So you are in, or want to start, a book club: how do you choose a book? There are all kinds of processes, from democratic to dictatorial, but I’m not going into that here. Whatever your process, the real question is: how do you make sure your selected book can fuel a discussion?

There are books I have enjoyed, but about which I have had very little to say; there are books I have loved, but have not been able to talk about well. It is often easier to identify what you dislike about a book, and harder to say what makes you love one; however, you don’t want to choose a book you think you’ll hate, just for the purpose of discussion.

In the best book club discussions I’ve been part of, there have been lots of mixed opinions. A character might inspire sympathy in some readers, indifference in others; an author’s writing style might be praised as poetic by some, while others will dismiss it as too flowery. Differences in opinion drive discussion, but these differences have more to do with the book’s readers than the book itself.

What about the book itself? I look for the thought-provoking book: the book with a central moral dilemma, where the characters must make difficult decisions or deal with unfamiliar situations. Ann Patchett is one author who excels at putting wonderfully real characters into settings that are strange or uncomfortable for them: a Jewish woman from Los Angeles in Nebraska with her in-laws, a shy scientist searching for her lost coworker in the Amazon, opera lovers held hostage in a South American country. Chris Cleave, on the other hand, is a master of the moral dilemma: family or ambition, sacrifice or cowardice?

Other books explore the future, or alternative versions of the present, and these books are thought-provoking in their own ways. Examples of these are A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan, Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker, and The World Without Us by Alan Weisman (nonfiction). The beauty of these books is that they subtly encourage you to put yourself in the character’s shoes, to compare the character’s actions and thoughts with what you imagine your actions and thoughts might be in his or her place.

 Other books are simply unique in some way. Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell has an inventive structure: it consists of six related narratives told in halves (in the first half of the book, each narrative is interrupted by its successor; in the second half of the book, “each interruption is recontinued, in order”).

Other stories are unique because of their premise: Room by Emma Donoghue not only features a five-year-old narrator, but one who has lived with his mother in one room for his whole life. Arcadia by Lauren Groff is the story of Bit, a child born on a commune, who at age fourteen is plunged into the real world when the utopian community dissolves.

 Depending on the preferences of your group’s members, you might decide to focus on a subset of literature. You might choose a nonfiction area like science or history, or decide to revisit the classics, or read just one author’s work. “Not so young adult” groups read books aimed at teens or children (e.g. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky). The book clubs I’ve been part of have focused on contemporary fiction, with occasional classics and nonfiction. Some of the criteria we consider are:

-Page count: most people don’t have the time for thousand-page tomes.

-Availability: Are your book club members willing to buy the book, or is everyone going to get it from the library? Something to consider before choosing that brand-new hardcover bestseller.

-Description/interest: the description of the book should appeal to a majority of the group; reviews need not be stellar but should be at least promising.

-Awards: If you have no idea where to start, there are plenty of awards lists, including the Pulitzer, the Booker, and the National Book Award, as well as genre awards like the Hugo, Edgar, and Nebula. Remember that awards are a good guideline, but they are also subjective.

-New vs. re-reading: book clubs can be great for re-hashing old favorites, but they’re also a great place to try new things and tackle challenging works that wouldn’t appeal to you solo. I might never have read Cloud Atlas on my own, but I loved it. Also, with a well-read bunch, it can be hard to find a book that everyone is interested in reading but that no one has read yet, so a willingness to re-read is a plus.

What are your book club success stories? Flops? What books do you think inspire discussion? Add suggestions and discuss in the comments.

Because I Said So! by Ken Jennings

 Because I Said So!: The truth behind the myths, tales, and warnings every generation passes down to its kids by Ken Jennings is perhaps the only book I can think of that I can wholeheartedly, unreservedly, recommend to EVERYONE, even those who usually don’t read nonfiction. Young or old, male or female, left brain or right brain, parent or child, skeptical or gullible, superstitious or scientific, this book is for you. Really.

The subtitle sums it up: this is the Mythbusters of books (with, alas, fewer explosions). Jennings takes dozens of myths, tales, and warnings, from “don’t swim after eating” to “put on a sweater, I’m cold,” and does the legwork to discover where they came from, and whether they’re true or false; sometimes, it turns out to be a little of both. Debunking or affirming each claim in just a few pages, his writing is clear, concise, and often amusing. For example, here’s a snippet of how he debunks the “no swimming after eating” warning:

“It is true that when we eat, our body diverts blood to the stomach to aid in digestion, but, as you may have noticed after every meal you ever ate in your life, that doesn’t immediately immobilize your arms and legs….Not one water death has ever been attributed to post-meal cramping.”

Truly, I recommend this to everyone. And, the scheduled publication date is December 4, just in time for the holidays. Usually, I try to avoid giving books as gifts (partly because I’m a librarian and people expect it), but I’ll probably be buying this for at least one person. So there: it has the librarian stamp of approval!

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

An alternative title for this post, taken from author Madeline Miller’s event last night at Porter Square Books, could be: Mythological Fiction: “Am I really having a centaur in my novel?”

 “Mythological fiction” is how Miller categorizes her novel, The Song of Achilles, rather than historical fiction or simply literary fiction, and it’s apt: The Song of Achilles is a retelling of part of Homer’s Iliad, complete with heroes, gods, and mortals. Authors who choose to adapt or retell myths have a choice, said Miller, to write the gods as characters or to explain away their presence (e.g., Was it Poseidon or an earthquake?). Miller chose to include the gods as characters, notably Achilles’ sea-nymph mother Thetis, and his and Patroclus’ teacher, the centaur Chiron.

 Miller’s impetus for writing The Song of Achilles was Achilles’ extreme grief over Patroclus’ death in the Iliad. To explain Achilles’ reaction to Patroclus’ fate, she writes about their adolescence and coming of age together from Patroclus’ point of view. The Song of Achilles tells an ancient story in an accessible way; the writing is both modern and lyric. Of adapting Homer’s original material, Miller said, “Great artists [such as Homer] understand human nature…the stories in the past illuminate the present…great art has great psychological insight.” The story seems modern because human nature has not changed: pride, love, grief, and revenge are as familiar to us now as they were three thousand years ago.

 

From Jane Eyre to Gemma Hardy

Last night, I had the pleasure of hosting Margot Livesey at the library for a reading and booktalk. You know that Sourcebooks T-shirt, Authors Are My Rockstars? That pretty much sums it up for me, but I think I managed to be somewhat graceful and well-spoken (keeping the “likes” and “ums” to a minimum). Margot herself was just lovely (you can listen to an interview with her on the Leonard Lopate Show if you missed last night’s event), and I was so excited to do this program with her.

Check out the library blog post to read more about the books we discussed and recommended: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain, Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel, Rules of Civility by Amor Towles, and Gold by Chris Cleave.

After reading from The Flight of Gemma Hardy and recommending some other books, Livesey answered questions from the audience. One person asked how autobiographical the novel was; Livesey said, “Like Charlotte Bronte, I stole from my own life…I borrowed recklessly and exaggerated wildly.”

Livesey also discussed why she chose to “re-imagine a novel” that was published in 1847 and hasn’t been out of print since (165 years)? “It’s preposterous,” she allowed, but the story clearly has “enduring appeal,” the nature of which has to do with the combination of two old and powerful narratives: that of the orphan and that of the pilgrim/traveler on a journey. Jane Eyre – and Gemma Hardy – combine these two into one.

Also, by setting the story in the 1950s-1960s, Livesey was able to “write back” to Bronte, showing how far women have come (though, as she noted last night and in the interview linked to above, the “swinging ’60s” didn’t reach parts of Scotland until the 1970s). As a reader, it was deeply satisfying to see Gemma standing up for herself in ways that Jane couldn’t.

So, if you haven’t already read it, do add The Flight of Gemma Hardy (and also perhaps my other favorite Livesey novel, Eva Moves the Furniture) to your to-read list.

The Light Between Oceans

M.L. Stedman’s debut novel The Light Between Oceans is published today. I had the opportunity to read an advance copy of the book this past spring, and it was fantastic; I reviewed it on Goodreads at the time, but here it is again for those who are interested:

In the aftermath of the Great War, Tom Sherbourne returns to Australia, and works alone on an island as a lighthouse keeper. On occasional trips back to the mainland, he meets and then marries Isabel Graysmark; they return to the island together, where Isabel conceives and miscarries three times.

Shortly after the third miscarriage, a boat washes up on the island, containing a dead man and a living baby. Isabel persuades Tom not to report it – to bury the man and keep the baby as their own. He uneasily agrees; but back on the mainland, the baby’s mother grieves for her lost husband and son.

The Light Between Oceans is an extraordinary story of the difference one decision makes; how the future must be lived when the past cannot be changed; of right and wrong and love. Not only is it a beautiful book with strong characters, its thought-provoking central dilemma makes it a great discussion starter and excellent book club pick. Also: bonus points for a gorgeous cover.

Swifter, Higher, Stronger

Last night, I went to listen to Chris Cleave talk at the Brookline Booksmith, an excellent independent bookstore. (Earlier in the day, Cleave spoke at Porter Square Books, another lovely indie.) The talk was completely worth the crosstown trip in rush hour. Cleave is a delightful speaker; he’s energetic, articulate, intelligent, funny, and self-effacing. He talked about his writing process and about the research he did for each book, and then read a little bit from his newest, Gold, and answered questions from the audience.

Cleave’s approach, as a journalist-turned-author, is to investigate “timeless questions in a timely manner.” For Incendiary, the question was, “Why do governments take better care of rich people than poor people?” For Little Bee (published as The Other Hand in the U.K.), the question was, “Should we step outside our comfort zone to bring others into it?” And for Gold, the question was, “How much ambition should we give up in the name of love?”

Olympians, Cleave pointed out, have “a different scale of ambition.” For Olympic athletes, unlike the rest of us, it is “necessary for everyone else in the world to fail” for them to win. Rivalries are intense; but rivalry is similar to “romantic love…[it] lifts both people up better than they could have been individually.” In Gold, Zoe and Kate train together and push each other to be their best, each hoping that her best is the best.

In researching Gold, Cleave interviewed top-level athletes, as well as doctors and nurses at a children’s hospital. “These people operate at such emotional extremes….It’s my job to describe indescribable things…[to visit the] extreme edges [of] exceptional lives and report back.” Cleave also trained on a bicycle himself, discovering a “savage joy” in winning (“That’s why you do the research, to go out and find things you weren’t expecting”), as well as the “unbridgeable gulf” between top athletes and the rest of us. Cleave said that the race scenes between Kate and Zoe are the heart of the book (“reclaiming action for literary fiction”). As a reader I’m not sure I agree, though the race scenes are well-written and intense.

Of the two high-level struggles in Gold – Kate and Zoe’s rivalry, eight-year-old Sophie’s fight against leukemia – Cleave said, the characters either see the difference or they don’t. Kate, as Sophie’s mother, has more often sacrificed ambition for love than love for ambition; Zoe is the opposite, and whether she will or can change is one of the central questions of her character and of the book.

After Cleave read a brief passage from Gold (Kate and Zoe’s coach Tom Voss speaking with Zoe’s agent on the phone, early in the book), there was a Q&A period. The first question was, “How do you write children well?” As a father of three children (or “experimental subjects”), he observes closely, with special attention to speech patterns; Charlie, from Little Bee, was closely modeled on Cleave’s eldest son. “Moments are ephemeral, you have to preserve them,” he said. “I’m nostalgic for the present even before it’s become the past.”

Why, I asked, did all three of his books contain infidelity? “I’m interested in people who are in transition,” he answered. People in steady states aren’t interesting; you don’t see many novels about happy marriages. When characters are in flux/in crisis/changing, “there’s only so much you can change” – your city, your job, your partner. Infidelity isn’t one of Cleave’s “timeless questions,” and his writing about it is remarkably free of judgment.

Another woman in the audience asked how Cleave wrote women characters so well. “Well there is a lot of dressing up involved,” he joked. Asking taboo questions during interviews was one successful tactic; wearing headphones (sound off) in public was another. He then explained an early rule he set for himself: “[I’m] not writing about me.” Counter to the common advice to “write what you know,” Cleave sets out to “cross a boundary every time” he picks up a pen. “I’m very curious about people,” he said, and one can tell from his books that he is a careful listener and close observer indeed.

During the book signing after the reading and Q&A, Cleave was polite and engaging. When I asked him if he had ever considered another outcome for Sophie, he said right away that he had, in the first draft, but he changed it. “Sensitive readers,” however, will pick up on certain sentences that are so full of foreboding that they have nearly the same impact as another outcome would have done. (Sorry if that’s vague; I’m trying to avoid spoilers.)

All in all, I now have even more respect for this author than before. If he comes through your city or town on his tour, I encourage you to go see him, and of course I highly, highly recommend picking up a copy of Gold.

Read the Goodreads interview with Chris Cleave.

Chris Cleave’s books on Goodreads: