I started this blog primarily because I hoped it would force me to write reviews of the books I was reading which, I crossed my fingers, would help me remember them for longer than a week. Happily the blog has turned out to have had some unforeseen and delightful side effects (i.e. you, dear subscribers, commenters and occasional passers-by) and I’ve found that writing the reviews, chore though it has sometimes been, has indeed been a great help. It’s not only their content that jogs my ailing memory when I re-read them but it seems that the very fact of writing the review makes the details of each reviewed book stick in my head more than the details of an un-reviewed book.

I have what feel like concrete evidence of this (though scientists would scoff, at best it’s anecdotal). Since the beginning of March I’ve read 15 books, 12 of which I’ve written reviews of and 3 of which I meant to write reviews of but never quite made it. Tonight I looked at that list of 3 books and realised I didn’t have enough sensible memories of any of them to write much more than “I liked it”.

Sigh.

I suppose it does me good to be reminded that I have to work at having a better recall of the books I read (I’m making a new April resolution to write a review within 2 days of finishing each book), and at least it’s only three books that have fallen through the cracks of my faulty memory.

For the record I liked all three books (in my database the first two are rated 3.5 and the last one a 3) but I can’t tell you much more than one was a Norwegian police procedural about hate crimes (and I can recall thinking I would have something to say on that particular issue in my review as I have real problems with the very notion), the next a psychological suspense tale of a woman who had been a party girl (of the kind I dislike rather a lot) until she unwittingly invited a monster into her life (a fate I would not wish even on drunken party girls) and the last a fun cosy set in and around a White House almost littered with deceased persons.

There has been much talk in book-ish circles here in Australia recently about the place of women in the publishing industry – as writers, reviewers and readers. One event which has helped spark discussion was the announcement of the 8 books (one from each state in the country) chosen in a public vote to represent ‘Our Story’ for the country’s national year of reading and the fact that only one of them is by a woman. This fact has been discussed in disparate snippets in the press and and radio but this Crikey piece gives a fairly balanced take on the complicated issue. The response by organisers of the National Year of Reading to any criticism is, not unreasonably, that the voting was open to the general public. However they’ve been far less forthcoming about how the shortlists were chosen (shadowy ‘independent panels’ were involved) and there were 48 books on the shortlist (6 for each state) and only 18 of those were by women.

Another factor prompting discussion of this issue was the release of a second year’s worth of figures from the US showing the percentage of books written by women being reviewed in the media and also delving into the gender of the reviewers themselves. Locally the ABC’s new daily Books & Arts show took a look at the Australian perspective on this subject last week with a lively discussion between Monica Dux (board member of the new Stella Prize), Jason Steger (The Age literary editor) and Linda Leith (a Canadian writer and publisher). The discussion went for about 20 minutes and is a good one if you are interested in this subject, and the Australian version of the US figures also make for interesting reading.

Of course it could be a coincidence but surely mine are not the only eyebrows to have raised at the announcement of this year’s Miles Franklin Award longlist. The Awards’ historical domination by male authors, including an all-male shortlist last year, was part of the impetus for the establishment of the Stella Prize (an annual prize for Australian women’s writing) but this year its longlist of 11 books contains 6 books by female authors! I am, of course, a crusty old cynic but I can’t help wondering if the Miles Franklin people haven’t been tempted to take the wind out of the sales of the Stella people.

Or it could be that all the discussion of this issue over the past year or so has made everyone, including the judges, more award of author gender as an issue which in turn has had an impact on their thinking. Much of the commentary about this issue has revolved around the idea that the bias towards male authors in many spheres of reading is the result mostly of unconscious biases in all of us so the mere fact of raising awareness of this issue must be having an impact. Surely?

And if you’re worried that you might be suffering an unconscious bias of your own why not join the Australian Women Writers reading and reviewing challenge? It can be as easy or as arduous as you choose and it’s a good way to motivate yourself to read books you might not otherwise read.

“When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.” G.K. Chesterton

I have always been a reader. Someone for whom reading is not just something to do when there’s nothing else but an activity deliberately chosen, squeezed into even the busiest days, accompanying me on even the most exotic holidays. Someone for whom picking up a book and becoming lost in another place or time is as natural as getting dressed in the morning. So being unable to read for several weeks had a distinctly unpleasant feel to it.

It’s not that I suddenly went blind (for if I did there would be my audio book collection) but rather that I allowed myself to become out of sorts with reading when I failed to enjoy (or even finish) a book from a favourite author (no more about that here, you can read about my grumpiness over here if you have a masochistic streak). In the wake of that I simply found myself unable to get my usual relaxation, escape or comfort from picking up a book (or turning on my iPod). And while I’m sure my reading withdrawal wasn’t quite as extreme as the experience of someone undergoing physical withdrawal from alcohol or another drug to which they are addicted it was noticeable to me and to those around me (causing a greater than usual crankiness on my part).

Last Friday I forced myself to start a new book by a new to me author by promising myself an end-of-week glass of wine only if I read for 30 minutes first. I’m not sure if it was the promise of a drink or the passing of time or the moon being back in the right quadrant for my particular biorhythms but it worked. I am, once again, a reader. And I am newly grateful for the return of my old friend.

The book I chose turned out to be an excellent new novel from Wendy James. It’s called THE MISTAKE and I’ve reviewed it at my other blog because Wendy is an Australian author. It’s a ripper read and I highly recommend it to all.

I’ve been on a bit of a kick since then, finishing the second book in Shamini Flint’s marvellous series featuring Inspector Singh of the Singapore police. In A BALI CONSPIRACY MOST FOUL the Inspector is sent to Bali in the wake of the 2002 bombings there which killed 38 local people and 164 of the tourists who have flocked to the island for years. The Inspector feels a bit superfluous as he doesn’t have any experience investigating terrorist activities but he becomes useful when one of the people originally thought to have died in the bombings is shown to have been killed before the bombs went off. Singh investigates this murder with the help of a brash Australian cop who has also been seconded. The book has just the right mix of gentle humour and sensitivity to set a fictional murder mystery against the backdrop of the all-too-real events and it is a great read.

My current print book is Peter May’s THE BLACKHOUSE which I have been itching to read since I saw this review at Petrona. I am a sucker for the remote island setting. I’m also back into audio books and listening to Anne Holt’s FEAR NOT which is one of the titles eligible for this year’s International Dagger for translated fiction. I have become a bit addicted to having translated books read to me as the narrators get all the people and place names right (which I am sure I never do).

I’m about a third of the way into both of these and thoroughly gripped. Just like in the good old days. In fact so thoroughly gripped that I’m going to wrap this up and go read. Very, very gratefully.

Choosing what books to read can be a curly problem. Of course we all have favourite authors whose new works we look forward to with much anticipation and I suspect most of us also have a few trusted sources of recommendations too. For me that’s a handful of book bloggers and a couple of friends whose opinions I trust. I don’t have a chart for this (yet) but I’d guess about 65-75% of my books come via one of these channels (old favourites and recommendations from trusted sources) and the vast bulk of them are good reads. Many are excellent.

The last 25-35% of reading is much more of a hit or miss affair. These are books I read because they fit some esoteric reading challenge, or someone outside my trusted circle has forced them on me, or my book club has chosen them for our discussion. About a year ago I also made a conscious effort to read more Australian crime fiction, especially by debut authors. The books that come to me via these channels are far more likely to end up  with lower ratings or, as my leisure reading time reduces, as unfinished.

Sometimes, like right now, I wonder whether it is worth bothering at all with books that come via these less failsafe channels. I could certainly keep myself well supplied with excellent reading by only using the first category of recommendations entirely skipping the challenges, the book club selections and the debut novels from Aussie writers.

This weekend for example I gave up on a book by a debut Australian author that made me really cross about the state of publishing. The book’s blurb claimed it to be ‘in the tradition of Peter Temple’ which, frankly, set the warning bells ringing. I know it probably wasn’t the author’s doing but surely publishers know the dangers inherent in comparing a brand new writer to such a highly respected author whose last book won the country’s major literary (not genre-based) award. They are big shoes to fill and the odds of a debut author managing the task are pretty small so it really is setting the book up to fail. Even disregarding the frankly ludicrous comparison though I found this particular book harder going than leisure reading ought ever to be. By about page 100 the protagonist had been the subject of sustained child abuse at a notorious orphanage, drafted into the Army for a tour of Vietnam (where an American soldier’s brains ended up in his hair), lost his wife to a terminal illness which he nursed her through, lost one son to a drug overdose, lost complete touch with his other son, become an alcoholic, been demoted from his job and posted to the back of beyond. My internal ring-of-truth-o-meter (patent pending) broke at this point and I decided that even though I’d paid full Australian retail price for the book I wasn’t going to waste another minute on a book in which the main character had experienced too much to make him even vaguely credible. Besides all that eye-rolling was playing havoc with my contact lenses.

Why bother with these debut authors I grumbled to myself? Why not just read the books recommended by those I trust and let someone else wade through the crap?

On the other hand there’s Y.A. Erskine’s THE BROTHERHOOD.Out of the 178 books I finished last year it came in at number 2 on my list of favourites for the year. It is an outstanding book and the only reason I read it was because it was a debut crime fiction novel by an Australian author, just like the book described above. I had not seen a single other review for it when I bought it and I just don’t think I’d have come across it via any other channel and that would have been my loss.

So is it true that what you lose on the swings you make up for on the roundabouts? I suspect the crap to gem ratio from this second, almost random channel of books is pretty low (again I’ve no hard data but I’d guess 1 book in 20 or 25 is very good). Should that be enough?

I haven’t really decided on an answer yet. I shall try to be more philosophical about choosing not to finish a book that’s not good even if I’ve pad hard-earned cash for it and will continue reading at least some books via these random channels (though I’ve cut back severely on reading challenges this year and have become more selective about which book club choices I read). But I do like the idea of finding the occasional undiscovered gem.

What about you? What are your trusted sources for book recommendations? Do you only read books that come via these sources or do you have some random channels that provide hits and misses? Do the misses bug you a lot or are you accepting of the idea that their presence makes the hits that much more valuable?

There’s something I miss about reading only physical books. I can’t throw eBooks or audio books at the wall when I don’t like them (Well I could I guess but I’m not prepared to hurl several hundred dollars worth of gadgetry at a wall to make a juvenille point).

Although I am willing enough to stop reading a book I am not enjoying it doesn’t happen that often these days. This year there had been about 10 incidents before yesterday but as I have read over 150 books this year it’s not a bad rate (and half of them were books I tried for the Eastern European Reading Challenge which has, I admit, stumped me). But I stopped 2 books this weekend. Is it my mood I wondered? Or coincidence? And whose fault is it anyway?

The first book was a debut one by an Australian author and I picked it because it is set in my home town (partly at any rate) and is very topical. Billed as a thriller about the escape of some inmates of the one of the detention centres in which successive governments have chosen to house people who arrive on our shores seeking refuge from turmoil in their own countries I was looking forward to the book. It actually started out fairly well, introducing a few credibly Aussie characters and setting the scene for something interesting. But at page 121 (of 343) I realised absolutely nothing of interest to me had occurred. And the book was getting clunkier by the minute. Large tracts of preaching disguised poorly as exposition had started to make my blood boil by that point and so I gave up. I should point out for the record that I agree wholeheartedly with the political leanings of the novel (I am deeply ashamed of the way we treat these refugees) but, by crikey, if you must lecture me while I read at least have the decency to entertain me as well. I figured the author had definitely lost me when I realised I was only engaged by counting how many of my home town’s major roads would be named (we were up to about 11 by the time I threw in the towel as the two main charactes drove randomly all over town doing nothing that could be remotely interpreted as thrilling).

The second book I gave up on today was also Australian. Or sort of. The author has lived here for years but this book is set partly in his native South Africa, partly in England and partly  (I think) in Germany. Or maybe Austria. Or somewhere else in Europe I really wasn’t sure. Which is the point. I was at 17 of 42 relatively short chapters of the audio book – so near enough to half way – when I realised I had virtually no idea what was going on. Not a clue. I had listened to the opening 3 or 4 chapters three times and had replayed other parts twice but if you held a gun at my head right now I could not give you a sensible synopsis of the plot. My non-sensible synopsis is that there were two blokes in two different story threads. One was a bodyguard who lost all his clients on one particularly bad day (which happened in the first 2 minutes) and then he went to England and made some phone calls. The other bloke had been a hostage (?) for a long time in Beirut. And he wasn’t happy. Some might say the problem is with the audio format but nearly one third of the books I read are in audio format so by now I’m a pretty good listener. The book just didn’t make much sense.

If you are a non-finisher of books do you blame yourself for not being smart enough to get the meaning? Or do you blame the author for not writing a better book? Or do you just chalk it up to chance and move on to something else? Want to share your latest non-finished book and the reason you didn’t finish it (you don’t have to name the book or author if you don’t want to).

A day before the announcement of the winner of this year’s CWA International Dagger Award (which happened last Friday night in the UK) I shared my thoughts on the shortlisted books I’d read and mused there was only one book I’d grizzle about if it won.

Naturally enough that book, Three Seconds, won the award.

Perhaps if it had been a different week I might have had a real grizzle (or even a fully fledged rant) about the unfairness of that decision but as it happened time provided a bit of perspective. Personally I was very crook with a bizarre stomach bug (the symptoms of which I will not bore you with) for several days so was not up to even a gentle whimper about the judges getting it all wrong. And when I did raise my head from my sick-bed it was to hear the sombre news that the world has produced yet another mass murderer with a twisted, evil agenda; this time in the peace-prize giving Norway. Even my national pride took a hit when I heard a report that several Australian right-wing politicians and conservative leaders were among the evil bastard’s heroes.

Clearly there are a lot of things I have to be more angry about in this world than which book won an award.

Happily I don’t have to dwell on this year’s Dagger disappointment  for long. I can already start speculating about next year’s award thanks to Karen Meek (one of the judges of this year’s award) (and no, I’m not holding it against her) from the excellent website Euro Crime who has already started listing the books which will be eligible. She will update that blog post regularly enough that your credit card won’t ever see the inside of your wallet but if you can’t wait for those updates you can even subscribe to the RSS feed of her Good Reads shelf on which sit all the eligible titles (you don’t have to be a Good Reads member and can use any RSS reader).

I’ve already read a couple of the eligible titles (one being the five-star read Quarry by Johan Theorin) and have several more pre-ordered. It looks like a good year of translated reading ahead and who knows, next year I might just pick a winner

When I started this blog I promised myself I would review every book I read because my primary purpose for doing this was to help me remember the books I read. No review, no memory (yes it is that bad).

For the first year I kept my promise and dutifully reviewed every book, good or bad. I know many people don’t review books they don’t like but I thought it would help me to become better at selecting books I’m more likely to like (which it did). I also think that negative reviews (if they are constructive and not mean for the sake of it) provide help to other readers. I know myself that a well-placed negative review would have saved me a bit of money and reading time over the years.

Over the past year or so though I’ve become a little more selective about what I review. I still review most books I read (more than 90% of them) but there are a few that I’ve elected not to review. They fall into two categories

Category One: Middle-ground books that are neither very good nor very bad about which I can’t summon the energy to say anything much at all. A couple of recent books which fall into this category are

• Alafair Burke’s Dead Connection which I listened to in audio format. It’s the first book in Burke’s Ellie Hatcher series, featuring a New York rookie Detective on the trail of a serial killer (of sorts). I simply cannot think of anything (not setting, characters or story) that distinguished this book from any other American police procedural featuring a serial killer (of which I have read more than a few).
• Shelia Connolly’s Rotten to the Core is the second of a cosy mystery series featuring a Massachusetts apple grower as its heroine and while very cosy is not very mysterious at all. There is the discovery of a dead body followed by 200 pages of our plucky heroine learning how to live in her new home (driving a tractor, acquiring goats, spraying her apple trees, polishing her floors etc) and a quick last few pages revealing the glaringly obvious killer.

Category Two: Books I was sent specifically for review by the author or publisher, which I have struggled through and about which I can find nothing positive to say. These are usually by lesser known authors and because of that I would feel guilty if I wrote what I really wanted to say. So I have applied the ‘if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing’ advice my father gave me all those years ago. It would defeat the purpose if I gave any examples of this category.

In a way I do worry about this category of non-reviews. Every time I see someone who can’t sing on one of those TV talent shows I wonder how it got to that point, how it is that no one ever told them they can’t sing? So shouldn’t I take the opportunity to have my say about books that aren’t up to scratch? The sad reality is that wanting to be something and working hard at it isn’t always enough. Not everyone can be a writer and if their families won’t tell them shouldn’t someone more objective do so? Probably, but my heart’s not in it.

Of course the problem with this category is finding a way to tell someone why their book won’t be reviewed here. I’m currently using the cowardly strategy of hoping they forget they’ve sent it to me and don’t come asking. If you can think of something a little braver do let me know. For the moment I’ve simply stopped accepting review copies all together. It’s not like I don’t have a gazillion books on my TBR shelves anyway, and I can do without the guilt.

Do you review everything you read? Do you have any categories that you don’t review? Do you have a nice way of saying “your book was bad” to hopeful new authors?