Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde

The opening paragraph of Jasper Fforde's Shades of Grey:

It began with my father not waning to see the Last Rabbit and ended up with my being eaten by a carnivorous plant. It wasn't really what I'd planned for myself--I'd hoped to marry into the Oxbloods and join their dynastic string empire. But that was four days ago, before I met Jande, retrieved the Varavaggio and explored High Saffron. So instead of enjoying aspirations of Chromatic advancement, I was wholly immersed within the digestive soup of a yateveo tree It was all very inconvenient.

I laughed. I was so confused--what happened to the writer's oath of "never confuse" or maybe Jasper Fforde has built up enough cache so that he can indeed confuse but make people read more--but  also so tickled that I had to read on. I mean how can one be eaten by a carnivorous plant and call it merely inconvenient?

What about you? would you be put off by the many questions--what's the Last Rabbit and how does one get eaten by a plant and for goodness sakes, what does it mean to retrieve the Caravaggio and explore High Saffron and what are these things anyway?--or would you be intrigued enough to want to read on?

Frankly, I would have passed except I knew Jasper Fforde and I have enough information about the narrator that I am curious to see how my questions would be answered. What do I know about this guy? Well, that he had a dream dashed/postponed, that he is somewhat accommodating to his father, that Jane is an important person in his life. Probably the most pressing question right now for me is: how did he survive being digested to tell his story?

And also, because it made me laugh.

My Spring Break Writing Retreat Day

My family took a 2-day ski-vacation to start off the children's Spring Break. I have skied a few times in my life but it's not my preferred mode of strengthening my heart and lungs. I still have bruises and embarrassing stories--don't ask me about the time I fell backwards off a poma down the slope, or the number of boulders and trees I "found" while skiing, or about the pair of glasses I broke, or the skiers I took down while waiting in line because I fell, and especially about the time I was "rescued" from the top of a green slope -- that made me convince the husband to take both kids by himself to the slopes.  

What was I left with? An empty condo, hours by myself, and this view.

Hello, Writing Retreat Day!

Without distraction from housework and the lure of the internets and the pantry, I scribbled a good number of pages by lunch time. 


 
There is something about writing in long hand that helps my thinking flow. So I continued to write, pass the hand cramps, till the chapter ended.

 















I decided to go for a walk. I thought I would look at some shops, hopefully unique ones that can feed my creative brain. No, I didn't make that up; I believe it's called an artist's walk. 

The backdrop was beautiful, but I really didn't want shop at chains. I made it my mission to seek out cute boutiques and quaint toy shops or used-book stores. Alas, I found more national chains and 5 banks within walking distance. And thankfully, two furniture consignment shops.

Here are some of my finds.
Vintage skis








                             Book shaped accessory

 











Gorgeous antique cabinets

    



   I could do with this in my house:







 
But not this:  












Then it's a stop at a local bakery for more writing. Believe it or not, the little jaunt into the furniture consignment shops fueled another good hour of writing. 

 










 Or maybe it was the sugar.






  



Oh, all right, I did step into Pier1 Imports, where feathered friends ruled:  
 

 












So, what do I take away from this day?

• I should write in long hand more often
• There is something about being in a different location that helps me write
• I wish I had bought the hazlenut torte whole when they said they didn't serve it in single slices.
• There will be more Daddy + kids days.
• Staying off the computer is possible, and very good.
• Pier 1 Imports can carry some old-looking trunks and cabinets but they are not the real deal.       

Re-reading Favorites

 Elizabeth Strout has a new book out, The Burgess Boys. Amazon and Barnes and Noble and other bookish places are sending me emails and offering special pre-order prices. 

 This just makes me want to revisit Olive Kitteridge.

I loved it the first time I read it and now as I think about re-reading it, I am filled with...trepidation. Will I love it as much? What is I get disappointed? Why don't I just leave it the way it is?

Strange that I don't feel any excitement about discovering something else to love. 

Can anyone relate to this?    

My name is Asher Lev

I have only just begun to read My name is Asher Lev, and by page 20, I already know that this is one I will read slowly so as not to miss anything, in the writing and in the story.

Asher Lev was the juncture point of two significant family lines, the apex, as it were, of a triangle seminal with Jewish potentiality and freighted with Jewish responsibility. But he was also born with a gift.

But he was also born with a gift? But?  Not and?

What an introduction to the narrator and his story. 

Asher's gift was drawing. His mother praised his early efforts but constantly pushed him to draw pretty things. His father, a serious Hassidic Jew who worked for the Rabbi, wanted him to outgrow his childish hobby.

When Asher was six, his mother turned very sick. Asher tried to cheer her up by showing her a picture, not one filled with black swirls and angry eyes that he had been drawing, but one with pretty birds and flowers he created for her. 

It backfired. That night, he had this conversation with his father:

"No one likes my drawings," I said through a fog of half sleep. "My drawings don't help."
My father said nothing. 
"I don't like to feel this way, Papa."
Gently, my father put his hand on my cheek.
"It's not a pretty world, Papa."
"I've noticed," my father said softly.

His mother finally made it out of bed to the living room, where she sat motionless and slept. Asher drew her. Then he noticed his father watching him.

I had no idea how long he had been standing in the doorway....There was fascination and perplexity on his face. He seemed awed and angry and confused and dejected, all at the same time.

That night, when his father once again said he wished Asher wouldn't spend all his time drawing, this is how Asher replied:

"I wanted to draw and light and the dark."

Somehow, this experience made him hopeful. Instead of lamenting that his drawings couldn't help, this is how he felt:

I would put all the world into light and shade, bring life to all the wide and tired world. It did not seem an impossible thing to do.

My heart starts to break.    

The Next Big Thing

I have been neglecting this blog, especially since I created a Facebook page. *Sheepish face* My friend, Nandini Bajpai, whose books are being published soon (yay, Nandini!), tagged me for this bloghop and provided me with a good reason to do some dusting off. How does this work? I answer ten questions about the book I am currently writing, my personal Next Big Thing, and tag other writers to keep the topic hopping along.


What is the title of your book?
Circle of Jade

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The story came primarily from my own experiences losing loved ones as a teen. Questions that started then are still the ones I ponder now. One of these is about redemption: how fundamental it is as a motivation, what sorts of things people do, and how well they work. And if these attempts are futile, what then? 

I realize this sounds very heavy. But life for many teenagers can be full of big questions without easy answers, and I hope some of them may find my exploration of these questions relatable. 

 Another source for this story, and perhaps for all of my stories, is the people around us: people who love us and whom we love, people who matter. In this story, it’s the love of her two friends, little brother, and mother whom she has pushed away who help her find her way  again. 

What genre does your book fall under?

YA contemporary

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I haven’t kept up with current young actors. Maybe readers can help me find an actor for Ash, whose mother is Chinese and father is Brazilian. 

Besides, the majority of the young actors are so glamorous and Hollywoodified (yes, this will be a word soon enough) that I can’t imagine any of them playing the regular kids in my book. 

Having said that, an actor just popped into my head for one of my secondary characters, Finn, whose unique blend of goofiness and compassion help Ash emerge from her grief. I love the way Jay Bruchel played the main character in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice: someone who is not attractive immediately, but whose personality and kindness and sincerity draw you to him. 

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

After a beloved grandmother’s death plunges 16-year old Ash into deep grief, she seeks redemption in serving others selflessly but finds true healing in unexpected ways. 

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

From everything I know about self-publishing, I know I’m not a good candidate, so I hope to find someone who will champion my story. 

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I don’t write in a linear fashion, so it’s hard to say when the first draft finished and the second, or third began. If you pushed me to a corner and told me my life depended on the answer, I’d say around 8 months. 

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

In YA, Blink and Caution by Tim Wynne Jones felt the closest to this story. Amy Kathleen Ryan’s Zen and Xander Undoneand Jandy Nelson’s The Sky is Everywhere both show teens dealing with grief. In general fiction, Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol RifkaBrunt has a lot of the same types of issues I am exploring in this book. 

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Yet another question that doesn’t have a straightforward answer. My reason for doing things doesn’t always follow a direct cause-and-effect path. What I do tends to be the result of many different influences.

 If I must answer this question, I’d have to say it’s my teenaged self, my two friends who died young, and my grandmother.  

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Rube Goldberg contraptions? Hot dog dumplings? That Chinese calligraphy ink is smelly? Random Portuguese and Mandarin words? 

As I write, I’m thinking primarily of my character and telling her story. I am aware, of course, of my audience, but I don’t know which of the elements in the book will pique readers' interest. My belief is that if my story rings true, it will engage. 

This is a story about a teen trying to navigate through a difficult patch in her life. I suspect that many of my readers, teenagers, seek to relate. Readers who have experienced similar situations may find my book interesting. Readers who are trying to understand friends who have experienced loss in their lives may be interested. Readers who are curious about life’s many knotty questions may be interested.

Writers you’ve tagged for the NEXT BIG THING Blog Hop.

The talented duo who run the Finding Wonderland blog both have wonderful books ready to burst onto the scene. I hope they'll play. Author and part time physician, Lydia Kang, has two books coming out. Exciting stuff.


UPDATE
Turns out I should have been more conscientious about tagging, you know, asking people first. Tanita has already done this, and here it is.  

New Books in the New Year

Here are some books I'll be reading in the new year. What's on your immediate-read list?

When is a bookstore not a bookstore?

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore has something for nerds of all stripes: books nerds, Tolkien nerds, typography nerds, technology nerds, just to name a few. With a few more elements of universal appeal thrown in: friendship, romance, quest for immortality, and a mystery, and voila: a fun and engaging read. 

I do have to confess that at times, while following the narrator's line of thinking as he solved the mystery, I got slightly lost. There were quite a few Aha! moments that, for me at least, turned out to be not quite as momentous as the book portrayed them. 

This book has been compared on many end-of-year lists to Where'd You Go, Bernadette? as books that are written for an intelligent audience who may need a short reprieve from deep, thought-provoking book but still want to be transported by excellent writing. It seems like a bit of a back-handed compliment, especially for an author who touched on some Big Themes, albeit delivered in easy-going, almost slacker language. I think I understand what there readers are trying to say though, and I agree. This is a very well-written book without pretensions and affectations. I enjoyed it.

Here is a quote from the book: 

"I always thought the key to immortality would be, like, tiny robots fixing things in your brain," she said. "Not books."

  
My only question is, why is the font on the cover not in Gerritzoon?       

Life is Good

Ahhhhh!

That's the sound of a contented sigh. What brought it about? The last few books that I have read, all of which have been good. My faith in humanity is reaffirmed. 

Where'd You Go, Bernadette? and Broken Harbor are both hugely popular books, which usually means I approach them with fear and trepidation because however much I try, I always go in with heightened expectations. At the back of my mind is always that niggling naysayer. 

But both of these more than lived up to the expectations. Isn't that always such a relief?

First, Bernadette.

What is the book about? It's about the redemption of a self-absorbed woman. No, not exactly. It's a quest of a fifteen-year old to find her mom. Not totally. It's about mistakes. It's a family story. It is a mystery. It is a story told in multiple points of view via email and letters and regular prose interwoven together. It's about Microsoft and robotics and penguins and Antarctica and architecture and Seattle and artists becoming the menace of society. 

(I really would love to know the elevator pitch of this one. Or even the synopsis.)

The novel contains all of the above yet (cliche alert!) the result is not only so much more than the sum of its parts, it is a totally different species.

It is a story well told that is in part hilarious, without overt cleverness, and in part sad. The traits of the characters are scarily recognizable and unlike my prose here, not cliched-ridden. If I were told earlier on that the story would be told partially through email and letters from different povs, I'd conclude that it was a lazy choice, a gimmick. But it's not. Or maybe it is, but I didn't care. I was drawn into the story and its characters, without really identifying with Bernadette nor her daughter, Bee (just who is the main protagonist, anyway?) and was willingly being taken along for the ride. 

A great ride. A wonderful read. 

(Next up, my thoughts on Broken Harbor.)