The Secret History of Moscow by Ekaterina Sedia

First disclaimer: I don’t read books I don’t like. Life is too short… you know, the ‘so many books, so little time’ thing. There really are so many things to do, books to read, gardens to weed, and then there’s all that time wasted, sleeping. So, if I read a chapter or two, and I just can’t get into it, I put the book down. Even if it is a gift from my best friend; I do not like to waste my reading time.

I had great expectations for The Secret History of Moscow when I read Neil Gaiman’s comment,

A lovely, disconcerting book that does for Moscow what I hope my own Neverwhere may have done to London… the prose and the atmosphere is beautiful and decaying, and everything’s grey with astonishing little bursts of unforgettable colour… deep dark, remarkable stuff.

And then when I read the blurb on the back of the book, I thought, wow. This is a book for me,

Every city contains secret places. Moscow in the tumultuous 1990’s is no different, its citizens seeking safety in a world below the streets – a dark, cavernous world of magic, weeping trees, and albino jackdaws, where exiled pagan deities and fairytale creatures whisper strange tales to those who would listen.
Galina is a young woman caught, like her contemporaries, in the seeming lawlessness of the new Russia. In the midst of this chaos, her sister Maria turns into a jackdaw and flies away - prompting Galina to join Yakov, a policeman investigating a rash of recent disappearances. Their search will take them to the underground realm of hidden truths and archetypes, to find themselves between reality and myth, past and present, honor and betrayal…in the secret history of Moscow.

Second disclaimer: I don’t like to say bad things about books I … don’t care for. I appreciate how very difficult it is to write a book. What a challenge it is to find an agent. How hard the agent has to work to sell a book to a publisher. I don’t think bad books get published. Who am I to malign something that people have been so dedicated to, that people have spent so much time working on? So if I can’t say wonderful things about a book, I just don’t say anything at all.

I felt I had to stick with this book. It was on my Once Upon a Time Challenge II list, for one thing. I really wanted to like it, for another. I loved Neverwhere, I really like urban fantasy. Unfortunately, this story just didn’t work for me.

One big problem was I could not become fond of any of the characters. One of the gods in the underworld was a cow! Cows, in my opinion, are just not revere-able. When this cow was milked, it splat out stars. I just couldn’t see it. I didn’t have much empathy for the main character, Galina, or any of her side kicks, either.

There was so much Russian history, I was completely clueless. I had to skim over lots of the historical stuff. Another problem for me was I could see Moscow, but I just could not picture the world below the city. There was a lot going on: Russian mafia, fairy tales, gypsies, politics, capitalist Russia, mental institution/prisons, and on and on. It was smatterings of so much different stuff, I became impatient and could read only little bits at a time.

Sedia’s writing is beautiful, but I simply didn’t like the story very much. Sorry. If you are interested, Sedia has a website you can visit.

Photo by Tait Chirenje

Small press books - Black Pennell Press

Once again, Carl at Stainless Steel Droppings has jettisoned me back to another time in my life. I had to search across bookshelves and through boxes, and finally found two volumes I purchased in the 1980’s from The Black Pennell Press. This photo of the last page tells you what makes these particular small press books nonpareil. These limited edition volumes were hand-set, printed on handmade paper, and hand-bound. That means the printer painstakingly, most definitely lovingly, set every single letter and space marker from individual metal letters to print this book, and each page was printed by hand.

In 1439, Johann Gutenberg invented metal, movable type, which greatly simplified the existing method of book production, which was handwritten manuscripts. For the next 500 years, virtually all printed matter was produced on letterpress equipment.

Printing is primarily divided into three main categories depending on whether the image surface that gets inked is indented - engraving, or flat - lithography, or raised - letterpress. In letterpress, the image is raised metal, cast backwards, then inked and pressed onto the paper. If you run your hand over the page, you can feel the indentation of the letters.

To get an idea of the complexity of letterpress printing, watch this short documentary of Firefly Press. You can learn more about the press at Elsa Photos.

Though letterpress is no longer an economically significant segment of the printing market, it continues to live on as the heart and soul of a wonderful world known as the private press movement.

If you are interested in letterpress printing, you can learn everything you need to know from this introduction at Five Roses.

The Black Pennell Press is located in Greenock, Scotland. It was established in 1982 by Thomas Rae after he retired from other printing business. Thomas Rae also produced books under the Grian-aig Press and the Signet Press names. I scoured the internet, but could find no recent mention of Thomas Rae. I did find a number of his books (just like my books) in university, small press books collections.

My Book House - memories of my childhood library

My father was a teacher, thus of course he had friends who were teachers. One of his older colleagues died and left her library to him. My father never read any of the books, but he valued the collection. They were housed in our basement on old, solid wood library shelves that had been discarded at his school. The basement was also my lair, with a mattress on the floor, a collection of unusual artifacts, a stuffed and mounted owl (my Archimedes), and art projects in various states of completion. Whilst escaping to my private lair, I of course checked out this newly inherited library. The books were from before my time, mostly published in the 1930’s, but I didn’t notice that. Their titles intrigued me: Beverly Gray In the Orient, Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies, Penny Nichols and the Mystery of the Lost Key, and The Merriweather Girls on Camper’s Trail.

I had read Nancy Drew and Trixie Beldon mysteries, but these found books were for older girls. I started reading, and I didn’t stop reading until I had read them all. These volumes took me out of my world, and I was fantastically rich from the experience. A section of my current library, devoted to some of the books from this time in my life, reminds me of the color-organized books of Stainless Carl’s bookshelf steps.

There was one set of books in this collection for which I felt particular affection. It was called My Book House. There were twelve books in the set, starting out light green and ending with dark blue. They are eighty-six years old now, and have faded a bit.

Each of the twelve volumes had an enticing title: Through Fairy Halls, From the Tower Window, and The Treasure Chest are a few. Volume One was the easiest to read, with simple nursery rhymes, songs, and folktales. Hans Christian Anderson, William Blake, The Gingerbread Man, and John Keats:

Over the hill and over the dale,
And over the Bourne to Dawlish,
Where gingerbread wives have a scanty sale,
And gingerbread nuts are smallish.

Isn’t that delightful?
Through Fairy Halls included Shakespeare, Sir Walter Scott, and Hansel and Gretel.

From The Tower Window had Chaucer, the Odyssey (retold), and The Legend of William Tell. They were a complete education!

My Book House was edited by Olive Beaupré Miller, published in 1921 by The Book House for Children in Chicago.

In memory of my father,

Richard Wiedemann

1932 - 1987

Southeast Asian Junket - starring Colin Cotterill

I love themes. Themes are adventure that let you delve deeper into a subject, help you acquire more information, and become more intimate with… whatever. For me, themes are about being immersed and they are quite gratifying. My thematic search a while back was Southeast Asia, with the focus then spiraling down on Laos and Thailand. Southeast Asia is a place I have no interest in visiting, physically, but I still find it fascinating.

Of course, the adventure was by book, the specific genre being mystery. During this theme research, I discovered Colin Cotterill. Born in London in 1952, Cotterill eventually gravitated to the Far East: Australia, Japan, and then Thailand, where he now lives. He wrote a series of mysteries which star Dr. Siri Paiboun, the national coroner of Laos. An unusual detective to begin with, the fact that he is in his 70’s is pretty unheard of in today’s mysteries. Cotteril explains why he chose Laos to write about in an interview by Houston’s Murder by the Book - bookstore:

Laos has always been at war with invaders and colonists and with itself. Yet it’s a place populated with some of the calmest and most peaceful people I’ve met anywhere. I wondered how such nice people always managed to find themselves in a battlefield, and soon came to realize the majority of the Lao didn’t really know what was going on. They were eternal victims of bullies. All they asked was to work their fields and raise their children. In the early seventies, the Royalists and the Pathet Lao signed a cease-fire and for the first time anyone could remember, the fighting stopped. People liked the idea of peace, whatever the price. So, when the communist PL took over the country in 1975, most people agreed they couldn’t do much worse than their corrupt predecessors. The new government, fresh from the caves of the northeast with backing from the powerful Vietnamese, could pretty much do what it liked. The intellectuals and administrators of the old regime had escaped to Thailand so the reds found themselves with a country to run and few ideas of how to go about it. They were scared, and fear leads to paranoia. The Coroner’s Lunch is set amid this period of political upheaval. It was a time when even the most banal activities became difficult, when you couldn’t sell a chicken without written permission. It added a new dimension to a mystery story, like a boxer going into a ring with his feet tied together. The books follow the chronology of Lao history through these times and refers to real events that I found fascinating.

So here we have an author who can write about historical events with accuracy, has a great sense of humor, and writes about endearing characters. The Coroner’s Lunch is an unusual mix of mysticism, violent death, and gently satiric humor. What more could a reader ask for?

The Coroner’s Lunch, was followed by Thirty-Three Teeth, Disco for the Departed, and Anarchy and Old Dogs. The Curse of the Pogo Stick is his newest release, and I am anxiously awaiting its arrival at my library.

Cotterill has an entertaining website definitely worth a visit. You will see he is also a cartoonist. There is a nice little biography here. He is a pretty interesting chap, trying to make a difference in the world.

The venture next led me to Bangkok 8, written by John Burdett in 2003. This is a very dissimilar, more gritty, series. Obviously, the stories take place in Thailand. The blurb for Bangkok 8 reads:

Detective Sonchai Jitplecheep, the son of a GI and a Thai bar girl and an honest Bangkok cop, investigates the murder of a charismatic African-American Marine sergeant, killed by a python and a swarm of cobras in a locked car. At the same time, Sonchair must investigate the subsequent death of his partner, making his way through a world of illicit drugs, prostitution, and corruption, to find a vicious killer.

This book is followed by Bangkok Tattoo and Bangkok Haunts. Bangkok Haunts was a little bit difficult for me to read, but it is a great series, nonetheless.

Next port on the Southeast Asia trip was The Secret Agent by Francine Mathews. The blurb for this book says:

Mathews takes us deep into the baffling history of a maverick American’s glittering life and his sudden, cataclysmic disappearance. Propelling us masterfully through half a century, from Manhattan to the Alps to the colorful and treacherous heart of Bangkok, and based on the life of American expatriate Jim Thompson, The Secret Agent is at once a murder mystery, a touching love story, and a lavishly atmospheric journey through the exotic landscape of love and history–an historical thriller of the first rank.

This was a good book. Mathews has a number of espionage novels to her credit; I plan to read more of her work soon.

You may be familiar with Lawrence Block, a prolific New York writer. He has written the series about Matthew Scudder, the cop turned private detective who still goes to AA meetings many times a week after twenty years of sobriety; serious stuff. Block also writes the Bernie Rhodenbarr series about a professional thief with a conscience. They are pretty tongue in cheek funny. I like both of those characters, but I think the funniest Block has written is the Evan Tanner series; the spy who never sleeps. Tanner lost the ability to sleep when he was wounded in Korea. He’s been awake ever since—learning languages, writing term papers and theses for lazy scholars, and supporting political lost causes and national splinter groups and movements. In The Scoreless Spy,

Tanner is in Thailand with a partially baked plan and a butterfly net, hoping to snare a beautiful missing chanteuse who’s metamorphosed into an international jewel thief. Tanner hopes everyone will buy his disguise as a rare butterfly researcher. And everyone does . . . except the guerilla band holding him captive.

Last stop on my Southeast Asia trip is The Thai Amulet by Lyn Hamilton:

Bangkok, a city of contradictions, where the heady scents of jasmine and frangipane hang in the stifling heat and golden-spired palaces overlook seedy strip clubs. Yet it never fails to inspire Lara’s spirit of adventure, which is why she has agreed to search for a missing antiques dealer while on vacation. Armed with only a fifty-year-old newspaper clipping about a murder and broken terracotta amulets, she heads to his last known address.

This was good, light, reading.

On the heavier, more horror-driven side, is a Thai movie with English subtitles, The Victim. It sounds like a very strange movie, but I was really creeped out by the poster, so I just had to show it here.

A review of the movie on DVDTown.com says,

The Victim is another run-of-the-mill film churned out by the juggernaut that is the Asian horror genre. Unlike most of second-rate movies cut from the same cloth, “Victim” has an extremely interesting premise, one that doesn´t involve an everyday, ordinary object being haunted by a ghostly girl with long, black hair. At least, not initially. Apparently, in Thailand, the Royal Police Force stage re-enactments of crimes in front of the public and the press. They return to the scene of the crime with an actor portraying the victim and the actual criminal handcuffed and in tow. The police tell the criminal to give them a detailed, blow-by-blow account of his deeds. Crowds gather around to watch as reporters snap photos for the front page of their newspapers.

Is that a scary picture or what? I won’t post the rest of the review because it will give away too much. If you like unusual, scary, movies, you might like this. Aren’t the Thai words on the poster beautiful?

To end on a high note, Thailand is an exotic, lovely place. Well, maybe I would want to visit there…..

And here is a blog, Charlie’s Travels, with beautiful photos of Southeast Asia.  Check it out.

Self-Portrait

No book review today. I’ve been reading and writing, but I was in the mood to do something different.

An artist’s portrayal of him or herself has always been one of my favored art forms. I visited the Vincent Van Gogh Museum in Den Hague, the Netherlands several years ago. Seeing so many of his self-portraits in one building was incredible.

Another self-portraitist high on my favorites list is Frida Kahlo, who has a phenomenally intense style of painting.

My all time favorite self-portrait, however, is of Albrecht Dürer. He is an astonishing artist in a number of mediums, and in addition, quite a mysterious character. Is this not gorgeous?

I have been working on my own self-portrait for about four years. At present, there are five frames completed. The pieces are collage: a medium I have a passion for. The pictures are from magazines or are photocopies of famous paintings. Each frame is built with three different layers. Areas are cut out, and objects or pictures are embedded in the openings. Each piece also has a miniature, hand-made book in one of the openings, representing what I was reading at the time. Most of the other three dimensional objects were made by me. Books, music, people, and whatever else was going on in my life during the time period represented, are included in each frame.

If you click on the picture, you can see a slightly enlarged, clearer photograph. The frames are each 8.5 x 8.5 inches. I really had a lot of fun with this project. I hope you enjoy looking at them.

Alan Campbell Interview on ‘Fantasy Book Critic’

An update on information for Alan Campbell: there is an author interview on the Fantasy Book Critic blog posted on Friday, April 18th. I had no idea Alan Campbell was the designer/programmer of Grand Theft Auto video games. I guess I never thought about the fact that somebody has to do that.

Fantasy Book Critic is a great book review blog which often has author interviews, and as an extra treat, has numerous book giveaways!

In the review of Lye Street posted April 12th, I listed Campbell’s blog address. I failed to add there is also an Alan Campbell website.

Lye Street by Alan Campbell, cover illustration by Dave McKean

I stepped off the planned trail while hanging out in the stacks and came upon something I found intriguing. The cover is what captured me. I already had my Stainless Steel Droppings Once Upon a Time Challenge list setup, but the cover of this book….

My favorite style of art is the Nederlandish period, during the 1400’s. In the Dutch town of Hertogenbosch there lived a painter who was called Hieronymous Bosch. Very little is know about him, other than he died in 1516, and had become famous for his powers of depicting evil incarnate. Here was an artist, who, for the first time, gave observable shape to the fears that haunted the minds of men and women in the Middle Ages. His most famous works (and my favorite) show agony piled upon anguish, fire, and torment. There are various species of demons, half animal, half human or half machine, who plague and punish the poor sinners for eternity. I am not sure why they are my favorite, I haven’t really inspected it. I am certainly not a gloomy person, plagued by fear of sin or punishment or hell. Maybe it is just the fantasy aspect of it I am attracted to. Do you see the similarities to the book cover here?

Back to the codex. The name of it was Lye Street, by Alan Campbell. Hence, after being attracted to the cover, of course I had to read the blurb inside to find out what this book was about. I had never heard of it, never seen it, knew nothing of the author. This is what the blurb said:

Alan Campbell has graced us with a 26,000 word novella, a prequel to his stunning fantasy debut, Scar Night, the first novel of the Deepgate Codex. Lye Street ends just where the novel picks up! The Greene family is cursed. Every fifty years Deepgate’s scarred angel, Carnival, returns to murder another descendant. Now, five hundred years after the first victim s death, Sal Greene is facing his own doom. His time has almost run out. In a desperate attempt to break the chain of violence and save his family, he summons a demon to the chained city: a warrior he hopes is powerful enough to stand against the angel. Yet the creature which arrives in Deepgate is not quite the legendary mercenary Sal Greene was expecting.

Sounded good, so I took it to one of the Keepers of the Books and checked it out. It is a very strange story. I think a key to this is the fact that it is a prequel to Scar Night (2006), and when I finished Lye Street, and read some reviews of Scar Night, I had a more clear understanding of its prequel. Deepgate is one very strange place. It is a city built over an apparently bottomless abyss, suspended on chains, with buildings occasionally falling in, or bodies being dumped over the edge. This is a novella, which is nice, I don’t come across many novellas, so it was a quick read. It was very, very dark. I haven’t decided if I will read Scar Night. The reviews I read are mixed. I was intrigued enough, however, to check out the author, Alan Campbell. Campbell has a quite personable blog, which I will probably add to my bookmark of “Daily Read for Writer.” He lives in that very special country of Scotland, which adds to the attraction for me. But the cover! I had to find out more about the artist, Dave McKean. I could not track down his personal website or blog, but there are numerous places you can find McKean’s work featured. He has collaborated quite a bit with Neal Gaiman (gee, he shows up everywhere!). They have done graphic novels and comics together. McKean is quite prolific, and has done many CD covers as well as other collaborative work. He has illustrated a children’s books written by Gaiman, one of which is The Wolves in the Walls, in 2003. I had actually checked it out of my school library years ago, attracted to the illustrations. I enjoyed it, and check it back in without knowing anything about author or illustrator. Tell me, do you see any influence, similarities, or connections between McKean’s work and Bosch? I am so glad I found this artist. Although I don’t do anything with Tarrot cards, I am attracted to the illustrations, and I would love to find a set of McKean’s. Very cool stuff. Check it out.

Keeper of the Books vs Monopoly by Amazon.com

“Der Bücherworm” by Carl Spitzweg

If you have been a regular here for any time, you know that I love librarians. But librarian is such a weak word to describe these gods and goddesses. In The Island of Lost Maps by Miles Harvey there is one of my favorite descriptions of these special people:

What a vapid job title our culture gives to those honorable laborers the ancient Egyptians and Sumerians variously called Learned Men of the Magic Library, Scribes of the Double House of Life, Mistresses of the House of Books, or Ordainers of the Universe. Librarian - that mouth-contorting, graceless grind of a word, that dry gulch in the dictionary between libido and licentious - it practically begs you to envision a stoop-shouldered loser, socks mismatched, eyes locked in a permanent squint from reading too much microfiche. If it were up to me, I would abolish the word entirely and turn back to the lexicological wisdom of the ancients, who saw librarians not as feeble sorters and shelvers but as heroic guardians. In Assyrian, Babylonian, and Egyptian cultures alike, those who toiled at the shelves were often bestowed with a proud, even soldierly, title: Keeper of the Books.” In the opinion of historian Barbara Tuchman, librarians believe that “books are humanity in print.” Librarians are guarding mortal flesh, and if books are not protected, the past dies.

So, Keeper of the Books it is.

Maybe you have noticed, maybe not. There is a slow crumbling of the written word in our society. At my local level, in my school, it comes as the loss of our librarian. My school has an incredible library. With grant money, our Keeper of the Books is able to purchase thousands of dollars worth of reading materials every year. She is a master at her job, because this library is fantastic. Due to budget cuts, next year this Keeper of the Books will have eight hours a week to do all the magic she does. Can you imagine that? Eight hours to choose books to purchase for the library, check out books, check in books, shelve books, advise students on what they might like to read (the most important part of their job, I believe), help teachers put together materials for their lessons, teach students how to write a research paper, etc etc etc. Eight hours?! So there goes the library. Please check and see what is going on in your local school system. Are you seeing the same trend? Voice your opinion to the school board if you are.

On a national scale, we see Amazon.com trying to force a monopoly on the publishing business. This very short article from The Wall Street Journal explains it succinctly:

Amazon Tightens Grip on Printing
By Jeffrey A. Trachtenberg

Amazon.com Inc., flexing its muscles as a major book retailer, notified publishers who print books on demand that they will have to use its (Amazon’s) on-demand printing facilities if they want their books directly sold on Amazon’s Web site.
The move signals that Amazon is intent on using its position as the premier online bookseller to strengthen its presence in other phases of bookselling and manufacturing. Amazon is one of the biggest booksellers in the U.S., with a market share publishing experts estimate to be about 15%. Amazon doesn’t comment on sales.

To read more in depth information about this monopoly in the making, please go to Murder by 4 blogspot

You will also find a petition you can sign, and addresses to which you can voice your opinion. Please take the time. I am afraid that soon, our children will not have the reading opportunities that we have taken for granted. To sign this petition, you can also go directly to

http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/protectPOD?e

Stardust and Neverwhere written by Neil Gaiman

A few months ago I was enticed back to my roots after I stumbled upon the site ‘Stainless Steel Droppings’. My roots being: originally a reader of science fiction and fantasy. Aren’t almost all children’s books fantasy? Speaking animals, for heaven’s sake! Speaking of which, one of my absolute favorites was Caroline and her Friends, by Pierre Probst - don’t even think about trying to buy a copy today, they cost a fortune, if you can find one. Sadly, my copy went missing after one of many moves. Caroline (there are never any adults in sight) goes on adventures around the world with a troop of animal friends. Fond, fond memories. Does anyone have a copy of one of the Caroline books they would be willing to part with?

Around 4th grade I started reading mysteries like crazy. Suspense and mystery have definitely been my favorite, right to this very moment. Then, around eighteen or nineteen years old, I found Edgar Rice Burroughs, and I was absolutely hooked on the John Carter of Mars series. I can’t remember if someone pointed me in his direction, or if I was just haunting the stacks at the university library. I purchased a paperback set of the series, so maybe I just happened upon him at a bookstore. I still have that set, minus books one and two, which I loaned to students and never got back. (How old does a book have to be to be an antique!?)

Anyway, at that point in my life I began reading science fiction voraciously – all the regulars plus some that were off the beaten track. Another lull for quite a few years followed, and then voila, please refer to the first sentence to this lengthy introduction. The first book I read in the fantasy realm was Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. Neverwhere is a land below London, a place “that exists entirely in a subterranean labyrinth of sewer canals and abandoned subway stations.” London Below is part fantasy, part nightmare and a rather ratty (literally) clone of medieval court life. Our hero, Richard Mayhew, somehow, inadvertently, accidently, offers to help a young lady in distress to, “preserve this strange underworld kingdom from the malevolence that means to destroy it.” Believe me, that malevolence is a very nasty sort. (A British TV series was made from the book, but I found it unpalatable- just too dated and silly.)

After reading Neverwhere, I set Gaiman aside and went on to other things. Then along came the Once Upon a Time Challenge II. I thought it was time to add Stardust by Neil Gaiman to my list of books planned for the challenge. After finishing the first book on my list, The Sword in the Stone, I read Stardust. This is the story of young Tristran Thorn, who grew up in the village of Wall, which is situated through the hedge, right next to Faerie. The village men rotate so there are always two guards on the gate to keep humans from going in, and…. creatures from coming out. Except, for one weekend a year when there is a fair on the green, just inside Faerie, and the folks from both sides mingle.

I love the way the story is introduced:

There is one road from Wall, a winding track rising sharply up from the forest, where it is lined with rocks and small stones. Followed far enough south, out of the forest, the track becomes a real road, paved with asphalt; followed further the road gets larger, is packed at all hours with cars and trucks rushing from city to city. Eventually the road takes you to London, but London is a whole night’s drive from Wall.

I picture myself in London, driving the busy highway to a paved road, which leads to a track winding through the forest, going back in time as the track takes me higher, until I arrive in Wall, in another century.

Tristam enters Faerie on a quest and is gone some time. You can imagine; strange, frightening, dangerous, and wonderful things happen to him there. It is a delightful tale, very well told. I see that now there is a movie. I guess if Hollywood can make a believable Lord of the Rings, they should be able to make a decent Stardust.

Check out Neil Gaiman’s website, too. He seems a very decent chap, and his website has lots of interesting nooks and crannies to investigate.

Six Phenomenal Books by Denise Mina

My excuse for yesterday was taxes. April 15th is just around the corner, and I really have to finish them up. Somehow, I became the tax expert in the family, so now I have taxes to do for myself plus four. No fun, even with a tax program. I nearly jumped out of my skin this morning when I got an email stating “your state and federal filing have been rejected.” First thought was, “ahhhhhhhhh, audit!” But no, just an inverted number for the employee ein. Whew! So, on to books, with relief.

I am going to take care of a couple days worth of due “book reports” all at once, and review one of my favorite new (to me) authors, Denise Mina. I only found her late last year, pointed in her direction by a very dear friend. Then I had to read everything Mina had written, asap. Her books hit the mark for me on a few different levels. First, they take place in Scotland, which holds a special place in my heart. Second, they are mysteries, which is my favorite kind of book. Third, they are about women who are real. I mean, they like to eat, they have issues, and they feel fat and self-conscious, and they make mistakes. You know what I mean; real people, only bigger than life.

The first series Mina wrote is Garnet Hill, Exile, and Resolution, starring Maureen O’Donnell. From the author’s website:

“Maureen O’Donnell wasn’t born lucky. A psychiatric patient and survivor of sexual abuse, she’s stuck in a dead-end job and a secretive relationship with Douglas, a shady therapist. Her few comforts are making up stories to tell her psychiatrist, the company of friends, and the sweet balm of whisky.She is about to end her affair with Douglas when she wakes up one morning to find him in her living room with his throat slit.”

Is she human, or what? You can taste the peat-tinged whiskey, see the smoke from her fag roiling in the air, hear the beginning patter of rain on an overcast day. I love it.

Okay, next series: The Field of Blood, The Dead Hour, and Slip of the Knife (called The Last Breath in the U.K.) starring Paddy Meehan. If I had to choose, I think I would have to pick Paddy as one of my favorite characters of all time. Again, from the author’s website”

“Paddy Meehan is dreading them finding out. Her family assume that her dogsbody job at the Scottish Daily News is a stop gap between leaving school and her big Catholic wedding to Sean Ogivly, but Paddy lies in bed at night, tracing the patterns in the artexed ceiling and dreams of being a journalist, wearing smart suits and carving a place for herself among the boozy, broken-hearted idealists she fetches and carries for.”

The newsroom of a Scottish paper is very, very foreign. Mina plans to write two more books in this series, thank goodness.

A brief biography written by Mina:

“Denise Mina was born in Glasgow in 1966. Because of her father’s job as an engineer, the family followed the north sea oil boom of the seventies around Europe, moving twenty one times in eighteen years from Paris to the Hague, London, Scotland and Bergen. She left school at sixteen and did a number of poorly paid jobs: working in a meat factory, bar maid, kitchen porter and cook. Eventually she settle in auxiliary nursing for geriatric and terminal care patients. At twenty one she passed exams, got into study Law at Glasgow University and went on to research a PhD thesis at Strathclyde University on the ascription of mental illness to female offenders, teaching criminology and criminal law in the mean time. Misusing her grant she stayed at home and wrote a novel, ‘Garnethill’ when she was supposed to be studying instead.”

She also writes short stories, plays, graphic novels, and stuff for TV and radio. When asked how she does it, she said:

“…her personal grooming is shameful, her house is filthy and her children run wild in the fields. She found a mushroom in the shower the other day. What sort of woman is that?”

She has a very inviting, unpresumptuous website,

http://www.denisemina.co.uk/

All right wee hen, go on with you now; read a good book whilst you have a nice cup of tea.