‘What is contained in this book is a collection that responded to moments in time, or urges to express desperation, or are a simple observation of sometimes everyday experiences and aspirations that I yearn for. Hopefully they will sometimes gladden you, the reader, and on others annoy you, or make you sorrowful, and maybe through a couple of examples, terrify the life in you.’

Waiting Spaces: A Collection of Poems Describing our Life’s Thoughts, Feelings and Experiences covers an impressive total of seventy-eight pieces of poetry by the Irish-born poet, David Hollywood; each ranges in length from a few lines to much longer pieces.

As a reader, my initial impressions focused on the simplicity of the poetry. Sometimes, the rhyming patterns involve a basic a-b, a-b or ab-ab style, although this is by no means indicative of the whole book. Personally, I absolutely loved this element as it emphasises a key aspect of why I enjoyed the essence of this book.  

Namely, it is easy to read. It allows – and effortlessly draws – the reader into the mind of the poet’s thinking and expression, something which always personally alerts me towards the skill of the writer. For me, this is summed up in one of the two essays written at the beginning of the book, one focusing on the question of ‘What is Poetry?’ and another asking ‘Is Poetry the Poor Relative of Prose?’ In the latter introductory essay, David Hollywood creates a poem which I found to be very poignant and reflective of the book ahead.

What has happened to worn chairs and wooden tables?

With a carafe of wine and old oranges,

In a garden together with friends,

Who greet you with their welcome,

And support of each other.

It belongs to some other time!

Imagine a walk through a thin wood,

To the edge of a rise,

To discover the finest of views in the morning,

Finding dew in the middle of your thoughts,

And the sun has already started to warm.

At the end I should love the world to be elegant!

To know that my company was anticipated,

Enough to say ‘good day’,

Fine manners and good behaviour,

With the best of company,

And only that which is true and noble.

And nothing of these times!

The carefree world that the opening lines create sum up the essence of this collection of poetry, for each poem holds a tone which suggests not someone preaching their intensive views to an audience, but rather the gentle voices of friends meeting in a relaxed, tranquil setting, sharing thoughts and laughter over a glass of fine wine and enjoying the company of kindred souls. As such, everything is easy to understand and relate to. At no point does the reader wonder where they are, what is happening and why.

Ultimately, creating poetry appearing to be so simple and straight-forward perhaps runs the criticism from some quarters of lacking literary skill or craft. Certainly not so here, for David Hollywood’s words shine out from every piece, ranging from the shorter, four-line creations, such as ‘Past Tomorrows’ and ‘Traffic Jams’ (‘When driving in Dublin…Avoid the Quickest routes…Because they always take you…Down the slowest streets’), to longer pieces such as ‘Youths for Profits, Without Sin’, covering a wide range of thoughts and emotions, including poetry involving the complexities of love and romance, towards more philosophical and contemplative topics.

Again, within each poem, David Hollywood’s inner voice is loud, yet never overbearing…deep, yet never remote, and, as previously stated, best consumed in the company of one’s finest allies, easily inspired by exposure to excellent poetry.  

Waiting Spaces: A Collection of Poems Describing our Life’s Thoughts, Feelings and Experiences may be one of the longer titles we’ve covered here at Ink Pantry, but ultimately this collection delivers – doing exactly what it says on the tin.

“About six weeks,” says the doctor. “It’s hard to say. We don’t like to say. Everyone is different. But not long. Not six months. Although that happens sometimes. Rarely. Six weeks is typical.”

With this opening paragraph, we are soberly introduced to the world of George and a medical diagnosis that would strike fear into any individual, brought to us by Mark Sheeky in his book, The Many Beautiful Worlds of Death.  

True, George is apparently not long for this world. Yet George is not a soul to accept this news and decides to fight back against his fatal prognosis; his major weapon is in the knowledge that he can utilise his talents as a successful inventor, to create ‘Plan A’: namely, the construction of a time machine. Once successful, ‘Plan B’ will involve travelling back through history to consult with the most brilliant minds ever born in the entire universe, with the ultimate goal of defeating his terminal illness.

Following George’s journey, the reader is transported into a delightfully surreal future world. We learn that George shares his world with Pauline, a wife who spends more time and conversation with the flowers in her garden than with her husband – along with the attentions of a handsome neighbour, Roger. We’re also quickly under no misapprehensions as to George’s inventing talents, as their house is also shared by a robotic son, Adam, constructed by George.  

Within this family trio, it’s impossible not to feel sorrow for George’s predicament at his most desperate time – a wife who loves him, yet seeks guidance from sunflowers, along with a robot son who lacks emotional empathy and understanding. This book is George’s personal journey, and we are swept along with it, including how his illness affects himself and those closest to him.  

‘The curtains blew into the room once more, waltzing graciously for one dramatic curl before being sucked back, pulled towards the window, covering it with their cotton film, showing each angle and sharp edge of the window frame. Marking the contours of the architecture like a brass rubbing that grasps at reality but never attains it. The light outside was now dim, and rain had begun to fall heavily, casting streaking shadows on the thin yellow drapes and hissing, dripping, making a periodic yet irregular tam tam sound on the glass panes of the open window, unseen.’

The writing style of The Many Beautiful Worlds of Death is often intriguing. As a very successful and talented artist, the descriptive elements of Mark Sheeky’s book are reminiscent to me of viewing – or being inside – a massive painting; something I personally found fascinating. At times, Mark is literally ‘painting with words’ and the effect draws the reader into each scene with further depth and interest with well-constructed sensory observations.  

Also, I have to say that I adored the opening chapter – essentially a short poem, along with musical notation, so that the poem could be played, or sung – once again demonstrating Mark’s musical creativity as a composer. Inserting this as an opening chapter is genius…and yes, I both sang and played it on the piano; something I would highly recommend.

In many ways this opening musical piece sets the scene for the rest of the book, as the author demonstrates creative freedom and expression on every page. What I enjoyed most about the book is that I’ve never come across a book written in the same style. It’s unique and different; something I adore within any creative genre.  

Visually inspiring, highly imaginative and often deeply moving, touching on psychologically thought-provoking and metaphysical elements. Love it.   

Get your copy here

Ink Pantry are hosting a special book launch with Mark Sheeky and his wonderful novella The Many Beautiful Worlds of Death in Leicester on Saturday 22nd October from 1pm at Café Mbriki. We invite you to come and meet Mark, who will be signing his books on the day, and the Inky elves who work behind the scenes. Come and join our Inky Jamboree and eat cake!

Lonely is an often poignant and touching poetry and short story compilation, put together by publisher and writer Robin Barratt. In the compilation there are 118 contributions from 57 writers, each with their own unique and culturally different way of writing.

Why a compilation on loneliness, one might ask?  Robin’s answer is simple:

‘Whether we admit it to ourselves or not, and no matter what sort of lives we have led, or are leading, most of us at some point have felt, or feel, lonely or alone.’

Loss, is of course, a key theme, and one which many of the writers in Lonely chose to describe, such as in Courtney Speedy’s short story ‘But I Loved You All the Same’.  The story describes in vivid and unusual rhyming prose the loss of one man’s wife to mental illness. The reader gets a real insight into how bright and wonderful and chaotic everything was before the woman’s mind deteriorated, and how, even though he has moved on, the narrator still yearns for her.

‘I can still smell you on my pillow and taste you in my morning coffee.’

‘Dad’ by Maire Malone explores the theme of loss of a parent in her short but sweet poem.  Gentle memories of a father lend the lines a dreamlike quality that lets the reader observe small yet poignant snapshots of someone’s life.

‘I was a child again running down the lane

For your ounce of Condor or packet of Gillette’s’

Although lots of the poems and stories are full of descriptive, emotive and provoking language, some of my favourites are those which are subtle and thought-provoking in the way they almost matter-of-factly describe the feeling of being lonely.

‘Loneliness’ by Margaret Clough illustrates this in such a way.

‘I hold a book that I have read before. My fingers, as they turn a page, can feel the emptiness between the lines.’

The poem gives the reader a look into the seemingly joyless and bleak life of someone living alone. The monotonousness and mundaneness of the descriptions emote a feeling of hopelessness and despair. Then the last line, in its simplicity, makes you stop and pause:

‘I have stopped listening for the phone to ring’.

‘One day in Spring’ by Kathleen Boyle is another piece of writing with artful subtleness. Kathleen’s short story deals with death and loneliness. The world is described to you through the eyes of an old woman, Joan, who knows her time on this Earth is nearly up.  The descriptions of what she observes in her last day are poignant in their beauty, for you are aware, as the character is, that this is the last time she will see them:

‘Joan acknowledged that this day, with its puffs of white cloud drifting high above the little town, the intermittent sunshine brightening pink blossomed trees and crocus strewn grass verges, was a different day.’

Joan’s transition into death is again, subtly written and moving. As the reader, you get attached to the character of Joan throughout the story. You feel her last day is lonely and not without sadness and regret, but also that she is ready and acceptant of death. The last line, understated and exquisite, gives Joan her final release.

‘Pain free, she stood and stepped away into the dark.’

Loneliness is the most human of emotions. So simple and yet also so complex in its many forms. Lonely manages to capture the essence of this, with each writer painting their own intricate picture of what they perceive loneliness to be. The reader is privileged to be able to dip into the book and step into one of these snapshots of human emotion at any time; each so different from the next.

Ultimately, this is what makes this compilation so engrossing, magical and utterly relatable. As human beings we have all felt some degree of loneliness. Whether it be the heartbreak of losing a spouse or family member, or the quietness of solitude when living alone; what makes Lonely so brilliant is that it explores these feelings from all angles and backgrounds.  

Website

Amazon

FB

Poor Boy Road is the street where Jake Caldwell, now a leg-breaker for a mafia boss, has grown up. It’s also the place he escaped from, and now, after many years, returns to in this thrilling, emotional, violent and tender story.

Initially, I was reluctant to read this – yet another macho thriller. As I feared, the book started with relentless violence in a hard criminal American environment. And yet, while the violence and general unpleasantness developed I had an odd experience: the protagonist, who was implementing the violence, interested me. Yes, he was the cliché drug-dealer-assisting tough guy, but there was more. Then, just when Jake was preparing to whack his whimpering victim’s kneecaps to useless rubble, he received a phone-call. This call was the start of Jake’s journey back to everything he left behind, and the turn that got me properly hooked.

Poor Boy Road is written mainly from Jake’s point of view, with regular changes of perspective to Willie, a small-time dealer. These different points of view not only help develop the storyline to make it both more thrilling and easier to understand, but they also offer a fascinating peek into the two characters. Jake and Willie have similar backgrounds: both were poor deprived kids in a small American town – and the author very cleverly shows the similarities and differences between the ways they were impacted by this, and how their lives unfold as a consequence of their choices.

Poor Boy Road is a hard crime thriller, with all the features of that genre. Guns, drugs, utterly immoral crime lords and their pathetic henchmen, and a significant amount of violence – it’s all there. But Poor Boy Road is more than that. The main characters have depth, and even though both Jake and Willie have done and are still doing despicable things, their personal emotional struggles are so relatable that I found myself rooting for them. I would have liked to have learned a bit more about the motivations of some of the other characters, in particular Stony, Jake’s father.
Initially I thought that the main antagonist – the drug dealer Shane – was a little too one-sidedly evil, but then I considered that it’s quite likely that he’s more realistic than I’d like to think.

A lot happens in Poor Boy Road. A wealth of characters populates several different plot lines that all intersect and impact each other, but thanks to the easy writing style and clear layout, the resulting complicated story was surprisingly easy to follow. A few plot turns were predictable, but this was not bothersome because the reactions of the characters to the events were just as interesting as the actual happenings.

It surprised me how much I enjoyed reading this book. The concept and setting don’t appeal to me, but the story the characters and particularly the easy, down-to-Earth writing style drew me in to the point that I was sad to have reached the end.

Poor Boy Road offers action, excitement and an engaging story as well as complex characters with relatable emotions and desires and an interesting, although slightly unsettling world. In spite of the uncomfortable topics that this novel deals with, it offers an easy and entertaining read. Even if, like me, you’re not usually drawn to thrillers, I’d suggest you give this one a try – you won’t regret it.

Blog

Facebook

Lakewater Press

For people of a ‘certain age’ (myself included), there may be fond memories attached to school years, especially being assigned to a special school house – very handy for Sports Days, in which we competed against fellow classmates to secure a win for our school house and earn a chance to gain some precious popularity.

Remember also, the time in that final year of school when the Careers Officer would make an appearance and suggestions as to your future job.

Now imagine a scenario whereby your school house not only meant how many points you got in the Sports Day egg and spoon race, but actually dictated your entire life from birth to death; ranging from everything you owned, your style of clothing and the type of foods you were allowed to eat, along with your politics, your social behaviour, your friends, your career path, the types of housing you could inhabit, and even how you were allowed to decorate such dwellings.

At the age of sixteen, instead of a Careers Officer, you would be sent for an intense bout of psychometric testing, which would determine which house, or ‘faction’, you should become a part of during adult life.

Herein lies the conceptual basis of Veronica Roth’s 2011 debut novel, Divergent – the first in a series of three books based on the characters within post-apocalyptic Chicago, along with a series of five short stories based on characters from the book. It is also the source of a 2014 movie.

The story, told from a first-person perspective, is seen through the eyes of Beatrice Prior – a sixteen-year-old girl. The opening pages focus on her mental turmoil as she faces the challenges of the tests to find her ideal faction, along with her inner thoughts on how she personally wishes to spend the rest of her life.

Beatrice’s family all consist of members of the faction known as ‘Abnegation’ – a selfless group of people whose sole purpose is to devote their whole lives to the welfare of others, via kindness, compassion and service. As such, Beatrice has only known the values of her own faction, including dressing in shades of grey so as to not stand out in a crowd and draw any attention to the self, not to focus upon learning or education, but simply to find ways to serve others. All politicians are from this faction, as they are believed to be incorruptible.

At the ‘Choosing Ceremony’, Beatrice would be expected to fall in line with the wishes of her parents, although the choice is hers.

Therefore, within the very early stages of the book, we reach the first dramatic conflicts – will Beatrice stay true to her upbringing and serve the people of Chicago, or will she choose another role in life? – thereby disconnecting herself from her family, forever.

There are five main factions in this dystopian, future Chicago. Alongside Abnegation, there is ‘Erudite’ (The Intelligent) – people who live only for knowledge and education. At the Punk rocker edge of the factions are ‘Dauntless’ (The Brave) – people who would not look out of place in a ‘Mad Max’ movie and act as the security and bravado of the city. Beatrice’s other choices are ‘Amity’ (The Peaceful) – people who dress in bright colours and serve the city as counsellors and diplomats, or perhaps ‘Candor’ (The Honest) – the most truthful of all factions who generally work within law.

Outside of these groups lie the poor, unfortunate souls of the ‘The Factionless’ – people who do not fit into any faction, or those who have failed the initiation and training of their former factions. These people live outside of society and generally as vagrants, only deemed suitable for the most menial of tasks.

Only one other type of person remains – ‘The Divergent’. Those rare souls who appear to fit not just into one faction, but cross over into several different ones.

From the early pages, we learn that Beatrice Prior is such a rarity.

The writing style of the book is simple and direct, and it’s clear that Veronica Roth knows exactly how to put a compelling story together. Because of the first-person perspective, the reader is pulled more directly into the action, and the author does an excellent job of relaying all of Beatrice’s greatest hopes and fears. The situations of the characters, along with the locations, are all utterly believable, thanks largely to the descriptive writing talents of the writer. The action is steadily paced and never leaves the reader standing about for any length of time. In short, there is always something going on; invariably, it’s exciting and pushes the story forward at every opportunity.

For all fellow students of the writing craft, it may also draw large dollops of hopeful inspiration to learn that, having written a bunch of best-selling books, along with a movie (with several more on the way) and the winner of assorted literary awards, Veronica Roth is still only 27 years old.

It may also be of interest to know that she wrote Divergent while attending a creative writing program at university, aged just 22.

Truly, there is hope for all of us.

Ottilde and Oriabel Dominax are identical twins with opposite personalities. Ottilde is a warrior trained, strong, brash, exiled from her country and imprisoned for killing her lover, Prince Chroy. Oriabel is gentle, caring, a gifted healer and much loved by the inhabitants of her home village of Corlaan.

As Ottilde, also known as prisoner 296, languishes in a jail miles from her twin, she is visited by a mysterious being who promises to help her escape. She learns that her beloved sister is in danger and will do anything to reach her. Due to Ottilde’s war criminal status, Oriabel is under the control of an overseer and royal envoy, Sir Kester Hugo, who along with his wife, only has ill intentions for the Dominax sisters.

Oriabel hides a dark secret behind her innocent eyes. She’s a witch and up until this point has only used her power for the good of her people. Corlaan is a superstitious and religious place with a history of bloodshed of those with magical abilities. Oriabel has no choice but to hide her mentor, Jacind the elderly witch, along with the truth about what she really is.

The arrival of Lord Hito Varon, sent by the King to relive Sir Hugo of his duties, turns Oriabel’s world upside down. He is handsome, noble and she responds to him in a way she has never to anyone before. Hito also has a secret of his own. He is an Onkai, a shapeshifter, the knowledge of which is only shared with his mother, Merin. As Hito and Oriabel’s relationship progresses they fall deeply in love with each other and also closer to danger.

We are drawn into a race against time as Ottilde desperately tries to reach Oriabel before the schemes of Sir Hugo reaches their evil conclusion.

The dialogue is quick and humorous, the themes dark despite the magical overtones. The relationships portrayed are complicated but believable. Some of the characterisation appears cliched in parts but R.L.Martinez is successful in creating an inviting portrait of an exciting but perilous new world

The sisters are at the heart of a tale of magic, deception, love, power and greed controlled by a force much bigger than them. The story combines witchcraft trails and superstition with other magical elements with many twists and turns to keep you engaged.

The characters of Oriabel and Ottilde compliment each other well, what one sister lacks the other possesses in abundance. It’s a winding tale of sisterly devotion and the ties of the blood.

If you’re looking for an accessible fantasy read, look no further.

‘This is not an autobiography. I would never write a history of myself. On the other hand, throughout my young days at school and just afterwards, a number of things happened to me that I have never forgotten…I didn’t have to search for any of them. All I had to do was skim them off the top of my consciousness and write them down. Some are funny. Some are painful. Some are unpleasant. I suppose that is why I remembered them so vividly. All are true.’

At some point, probably within our earlier years of life, countless of us will have been captivated and enthralled by the words of Roald Dahl – a gifted writer who brought his imaginative stories to life with a succession of memorable fictional characters in books such as: ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’, ‘The BFG’ & ‘James and the Giant Peach’.

A lesser-known book of the author – who would have celebrated his 100^th birthday in 2016 – is a 1984 autobiography, simply entitled ‘Boy’. Within these pages lie a multitude of adventures and tales from the author’s childhood during the 1920’s and 30’s. It is also the first half of Roald’s autobiographical accounts, being followed by his amazing story during World War II in a book entitled ‘Solo’ – a thoroughly recommended read.

‘Boy’ begins in his father’s native Norway and gives a fascinating account of the Dahl family.  At times, even though the accounts are true, it’s difficult not to get caught up in Roald’s writing style and wonder if he is building up more fascinating characters for a new novel. Tales abound, such as how his father lost an arm aged 14, yet successfully managed to adapt without it and never saw it as a problem in life…the only mild inconvenience ever aired being the fact that he could never manage to remove the top from a boiled egg.

Clearly, school years play a pivotal role in Roald’s childhood and it is here that we gleam fascinating insights into life during the 1920’s. In particular the reader is witness to the cruel barbarity of life within the interior of educational facilities; mostly undiscovered by the parents of the poor children enduring often-terrible treatment by vicious teachers.

Not that Roald was an angel. Carried along by his words, the reader is exposed to the planning and operation of ‘The Great Mouse Plot of 1924’ – a true escapade of naughty boys doing naughty things.  With a suitably wincing expression we can also discover how adenoids were removed in the 1920’s and also how Roald nearly lost his nose when the entire Dahl family decided to drive an early, massive car along tiny country lanes, complete with just an hour’s driving lesson. (No tests required back then).

The writing style of the book is magnetic, but then it’s Roald Dahl and perhaps we might expect nothing less from a writing master. However, there is something magical occurring between the pages of ‘Boy’. Writing this in 1984, Roald was already 68 years of age and yet the writing appears fresh; spoken like a child in a child’s wondrous, enquiring voice.

Through his words we witness the horror of public schools, with often-vile headmasters and the rigmarole of ‘fagging’. Yet we also hear of pleasant, inspiring teachers. We also visit the Norwegian fjords and delight in Roald’s innocence at encountering such natural beauty, alongside his loving, caring family.

By the time we reach the final pages of the book we have walked alongside Roald through his entire childhood and watched him arrive at a responsible adulthood, just prior to the outbreak of war in 1939. The fact that this is the easiest of processes is due to the beautiful writing structure of Roald Dahl.

Always the story-teller.

 ‘The writer walks out of his workroom in a daze. He wants a drink. He needs it. It happens to be a fact that nearly every writer of fiction in the world drinks more whisky than is good for him. He does it to give himself faith hope and courage. A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul and that I am sure is why he does it.’ 

‘Anyone who has loved two men at once knows that it’s not an abundant feeling, but mean and sweaty and undignified.’

Aemilia Bassano is an extraordinary woman in an ordinary time. Well educated and witty, possessing a sharp and brilliant mind, yet at the mercy and limitations of her gender. The story is set in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, a time when men wore entitlement like a cloak, ruling their wives and mistresses with iron fists. Reared in the court environment and a favourite of the Queen, Aemilia is in a privileged position for someone of humble origins. This is courtesy of her role as mistress to Lord Hunsdon, cousin to the Queen and a married man, who has treated Aemilia favourably for six years.

Aemilia is outspoken, talented and beautiful, attributes that are rare, making her unforgettable and highly sought after. When she meets William Shakespeare, after initial resistance, a tumultuous and all-consuming love affair begins. The result of this is a pregnancy which changes everything for her. Lord Hunsdon, unable to keep Aemilia at court and under the illusion the child is his, sets Aemilia up with a gambling husband and small house to rear the child, bringing her love affair with Shakespeare to a premature end. Aemilia refuses to tell Shakespeare that Henry, her son, is his own flesh and blood and they live separate lives until fate brings them together.

The events that follow centre around a mother’s love and devotion to her son, the downfalls of desire, and also serves as a cautionary tale to the consequences of anger. There is a strong feminist narrative throughout with Aemilia constantly questioning society and her place in it. The story often referred to throughout is of Lililth, said to be Adam’s first wife, who was created equal and refused to be subservient to Adam. There are many comparisons to Aemilia and Lilith; a woman scorned but also a woman determined to do anything to get what she wants.

The language is coarse yet poetic, the imagery visceral and honest, painting a devastating picture of Tudor London and the struggles of women of that time.

This is a story of witchcraft, women’s liberation, love and loyalty. Aemilia is loosely based on a real individual whose poems were said to be the first published by a woman. It’s an interesting story with many twists and turns that you don’t see coming. If you’re a fan of historical fiction with a twist this book is for you.

http://www.myriadeditions.com/books/dark-aemilia/

https://twitter.com/sallyoreilly