Chapter 13

This chapter is you at your best. I thought it was superb. I don’t even know if I can explain why other than there’s a subtlety of feeling here, undercurrents, realisations, recognitions and momentum of plot conveyed with skill and beauty. Fabulous, just fabulous. view book

Chapter 12

Things I loved:

‘The crisis with the shops had been resolved but the difference of opinion it had generated between Marion and Pete had not and it hung in the hot, greasy air between them. Too exhausted by the symptom to debate its cause, they fell back instead on the comfort of repetition – daily routines performed without words, without argument, without even conscious thought – the unspoken issue of Chrissy filling any remaining pockets of air; the atmosphere behind the counter compressing in slow suffocation.’

Very well expressed. Especially ‘too exhausted by the symptom to debate its cause, they fell back instead on the comfort of repetition – daily routines performed without words, without argument, without even conscious thought’. Yep. That’s how life can be sometimes, that’s how it is, what helps people get through.

‘The air was too thick, the unspoken too belligerent’ I liked this. Something about ‘the unspoken too belligerent’

‘there are no pockets in a shroud’ I haven’t heard this expression before. It made me smile.

‘All well and good saving for the future, but a person needed to know where that future started.’

‘Somewhere in the midst of such practicalities dreams are lost.’ Indeed they are.

‘Stature mimicking success, growing fat, growing comfortable, growing, growing, growing.’

‘Any fool can fall in love, it’s perseverance that counts. ‘ Wry smile.

‘But the reality of marriage, the subconscious learning to live with unimagined normality – it’s a progressive condition. There is no fixed reference point, no norm, just a constantly shifting baseline for good and bad.’ Neat observation (you make me smile comparing it to chronic arthritis!)

You describe Marion’s frustration with Pete, with her life very well, slowly building up and spilling over. The connection with Chrissy too. The cause of her dad’s death also killed her dreams.

‘And nobody remembers how to care beyond the needs of their personal cocoon. Once dampened, community spirit is difficult to rekindle.’

‘Then Chrissy returned.

Something changed.

And now it was fighting relentlessly with all Marion held true. She still believed in the community. Still believed their efforts had been worthwhile. She did believe that. She could still look back and see good deeds, smiles, friendships and kindnesses and know that she had, in some small way, made the lives of others brighter. But that foolish teenage dream was no longer opaque and obtuse. It was sharp and vivid again and it jostled with the conviction – taunting, resisting compression – what if, what if, what if.’

You really do build up very nicely to this. So many of us ‘settle for’, subsume ourselves, and for ever wonder what might have been.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before but I like the knack you have of ascribing thoughts and opinions to your characters and presenting them as statements when you are writing about them. Their Truths.

Things I wondered about:

Had to look up ‘eremitic’ though it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t; the context gives the gist.
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Chapter 11

Things I loved:

I don’t know if you do it on purpose but I loved your opening paragraph again and am beginning to appreciate the peeling away of wallpaper and the peeling away of years analogy.

‘These were the snapshots that didn’t make the album but were never thrown away.’ This and the whole of the paragraph.

‘The longer I stayed, the more I would be consumed.’ Yep.

‘Lovers do that. Absorb you – ink into blotting paper – until you no longer exist in any external context.’ It makes me ache inside to read this. It’s so, so true. (OK, so maybe I am sentimental).

‘Drawing and seeping two lives into one. Beginnings can look so very beautiful.’ Christ, the seeping got to me here. Someone once wrote something to me/for me about ‘seeping’.

‘But it’s a human compulsion to pick things apart. To look around every corner, into every crevice, examine and question, discover its core. Become resentful of independence, frustrated by mismatched edges, critical of imperfections. Put it back together in a better way, as part of a bigger whole, with edges matching. A two-piece jigsaw, its beauty absorbed and contained. Tighter. Tighter.

Grow bored.

Disappointed something so special could become so mundane.’

Fuck me. Two, maybe three glasses of red in and ain’t this the Truth. Again, picking at the edges of wallpaper and picking at the edges of relationships.

‘Here, still, because if I left, what would happen to Alice?’
Her justification. Her excuse to herself for staying.

‘kicking through the debris like a kid in an autumn wood.’ Yes.

“Are you staying?”

“People want plain rooms.”
Won’t commit. Avoiding the question.

‘Like a cobra, he was luring his prey; drawing me into foolish advance, soothing all logic with captivating eyes and a steady sway.’ Hhmmm. Lovely. ( No doubt our very own recently qualified Miss Brodie, always was quick to point out phallic symbols, would have seen one here).

Liked the flashback, but more later.

Loved the description of the school. Just how they were (or some of them). Delicate brush strokes but so much conveyed.

Things I wondered about:

God (exasperation with myself). I didn’t know what ‘sospirando’ meant (first paragraph) and had to look it up. Again, not in the online dictionary I chose, but again found it in a musical dictionary. Beginning to realise my musical knowledge is lacking. Then think ‘ah, soupir- sigh’ yes.

(As an aside I had a French pen friend who was quite an advanced – or so it seemed to me at thirteen -piano player. I loved something she played by Beethoven called, I thought because I’d read it on her sheet music, ‘Adagio Sostenuto’. My mother searched high and low for it ‘ Do you have Adagio Sostenuto by Beethoven?’ and eventually found that it was the beginning of his Moonlight Sonata. Still love it to this day. Pathetique and Apassionata were on the same LP, love those too)

I didn’t think I knew what ‘Parian marble’ was so googled it. Turns out I do. I know about Parian ware and Belleek pottery (except I thought it was ‘belique’).

I liked the slowness of the short Fen paragraph, loved the repetition of ‘when I remembered’ but wasn’t sure about
‘When I remembered mine and Pat’s poems.’ It might just be me being pedantic.

I enjoyed the description of the school, so real and deftly portrayed, but had to look up ‘Antaean’ and, bloody hell, ‘Cocytian’. Help! Starting to feel that I’ve been complacent, that my vocabulary is lacking. Fantastic paragraph though.
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Chapter 10

Things I loved:
Great opening to this chapter. I love the single lines:

‘Home. To me it had been so many things.’

‘I was tired. I’d come full circle.’
Everything about it. Especially:

,shared lodgings plucked from an evening paper,
‘the warmth of strangers’ beds. Freedom.’
‘But home had never been more than a moment in time. A brief stay, a long stay, a stranger’s spare room, a friend’s sofa, a lover’s bed’

In that first paragraph, in a few spare words, you encapsulate her life.

‘– faded echoes of a life once led, a purpose once in evidence’. Lovely.

‘The place screamed mundane at a level even the two radios and their staggered output could not drown.’
Nice

‘I was drawn to them. I was one of them. I’d always managed better than this.
But had I escaped? I was here after all.’

Seems a funny thing to say but reading your book has made me realise how important spaces are. How effective they can be. Something I hadn’t really thought of before. I like your single lines set slightly apart from the rest.

I like the way your flashbacks are unravelling and their pull on the story but you’ve asked for separate feedback on them so I’m saving that till later.

‘Spencer and Pat were always destined to be brief, glorious flourishes of colour on life’s canvas. Too much time would have diluted them. They were flashes. Sparks. Fireworks. Intended to be unique memories.
Pat probably did jump off the lifeboat house – it was the sort of mad thing she’d do. Spencer’s nihilistic bent would certainly have seen him off years ago.’
Like this.

Touching to read:
‘I liked to imagine I’d still be around, albeit one of the walking wounded, with perhaps a limb missing or a slightly weakened immune system – some sign I’d not been as interesting as I’d thought.’

And

‘The only fly in the ointment had been me – failing to make an impact, failing to know which side I was on.

Sloppy Christine, do it again’

Not so tough then. Christine pretending to be Chrissy.

‘There was no anything to be had. He was fluent and persistent when speaking of this illusion, and Pat believed what she believed with fervour. To be stuck between the two was to be confined in the tightest ‘of spaces. It was bound to end badly – we were all far too sharp around the edges.’

– we are nothing in the end. Gone. No more than a good idea, a fleeting muse.’

‘words that will never be fully understood. It’s all debris in the end.’

‘But I’d kept moving. I’d realised quite quickly it was the only way. To keep on finding the unexplored, the potential. To keep on walking. When each landscape looks different, you can believe you’re somewhere new. Time to move on when you realise you are actually nowhere new at all. That each turn, each fresh length of road is merely what has gone before in a different disguise. Every step on a new adventure is a repetition of someone else’s dream, someone else’s anticipation, someone else’s disappointment. And behind you are more itchy feet waiting to echo the tapping steps of your own.’
Bloody hell. You’ve gone all philosophical on me again. Love it!

Really liked the description of the nurses and their progress down the ward ‘fresh of face and lithe of body,’ ‘Nor did they seem aware that not all they touched was inanimate.’ Particularly stand out.

‘Death slinks into view with enough time for regret, too little to atone,’ Very good.

‘Take Alice. Take every Alice.’ Again, a lot said in a little.

It’s interesting to see her becoming more involved with Alice, starting to care despite herself. (And then a little later feeling she’s becoming too involved and needing to distance herself again).

“Merv?”
“You’ll never be ready, sweetheart. Never.”

I love the paragraph beginning ‘I’d always known what I didn’t want’
Very good. Really. Very good.

I like ‘our many selves’ so true.

‘Or whether we could be content to be the briefest of touches where two lives meet; neither ever knowing the other’s whole, neither holding the complete album of the other’s life.’

‘barren frivolity’ good. Great juxtaposition.

‘captivate, copulate, replicate and die.’ Very good. I like this a lot. Sounds brilliant if you say it aloud. Fantastic beat to it.

‘The complexities with which we pass the time, justify our presence, convince ourselves we’re different, are a fallacy.’ Again, I really enjoy your observations on life.


Things I wondered about:

In the first paragraph you have ‘bed’ twice. I love them both, just noted it is all. ‘the warmth of strangers’ beds’ and ‘a lover’s bed’ I don’t know I would want to change either ‘the warmth of strangers’ beds’ says so much about her.

I noticed three ‘mundane’s quite close, either side and during the Spencer flashback. (I only noticed them
because I liked the first one so much).

‘Ritualistic procedure’ wasn’t sure about this but think it’s just me.

‘A game. We are all just part of a cosmic game. At the mercy of vengeful, petulant gods warring with human life, tit for tat. A relentless game of human chess. Is it any wonder we grab what we can?’
I really liked this but just wondered about ‘human chess’. It’s a nice analogy but quite often used.

You repeat ‘detritus’ quite closely either side of the ‘sloppy Christine’ line, on first reading just a fleeting, querying thought, wonder briefly (“maybe ‘debris’ for one of them”), then a bit further along you use ‘debris’ and I realise why. You repeat that too (twice), and it’s needed, done for emphasis. It works. My first thought was wrong. (I don’t know that this has got us anywhere, it’s just what I thought as I read!)


I’m getting absorbed by this now. Thinking about different aspects in my spare moments. I forgot to say earlier, ‘In My Life’ must be one of my favourite Beatles' songs. Haunting and beautiful.

Great chapter title too. view book

Chapter 6

Things I loved:

I liked the conversation between Malcolm and Roger. It seemed very natural.

You get an excellent picture of Malcolm/Fen with ‘Malcolm Fenchurch had never known chaos’ with the implication that he soon will!

‘Sometimes, when the odour of those years could be vaguely detected seeping from walls warmed by hot sun, it would remind him of his own choices, his own limitations, his own small place in this world. He didn’t welcome this sort of morose self-indulgence, though he’d been aware of the odour more often of late’

Really liked this, especially , ‘though he’d been aware of the odour more often of late’ –again, much conveyed in just a few words.

‘Almost every memory the old boy once possessed had been stolen from him by Alzheimer’s. Strangely enough, he could always remember Malcolm’s name though he could never define their relationship. In a way, it had always been like that.’
Clever, and I very much liked the almost throw-away ‘In a way, it had always been like that.’

‘….was just the same as life elsewhere. That eventually a person realised this. That eventually a person saw how every situation could be broken into just two states: anticipation and disappointment. Then she laughed, less effusively, and asked him to refill her glass’
Lovely. I like the use of ‘a person’ here. Something sad about the ‘laughed, less effusively’. I also like the ‘just two states: anticipation and disappointment’ but as I mentioned before you say something similar in Chapter 1.

Chrissy raised her sunglasses, looked at Fenchurch.“Let’s take this and go,” she said. “Finish it on the beach.” “We can’t take the glasses.” She arched her brows, challenging, teasing. “Yes we can.”

Doesn’t this just sum up the difference between them, emphasised a little later by:

‘He planned to take glasses back to the pub tomorrow, and knew he would. He was also sure she wouldn’t have bothered.’

I thought the whole of the getting drunk together was well described and realistic.

‘She turned, smiled, trailed a cool hand along his arm. “Strange sort of lawyer who takes the word of a client as truth,” she said. “Wouldn’t you rather check the evidence personally?”
Like it! Neatly done and a good ending to the chapter. (On a slightly flippant note, I do wonder after all that booze quite how it turned out. Or maybe I’ve just been unlucky!)


Things I wondered about:

Heavy duty tires – Heavy duty tyres?

‘It was an old fashioned pub, popular with the less upmarket holidaymakers whose taste in cuisine stretched no further than steak and ale pie with chips and high calorific puddings drowning in custard. It was certainly a suitable venue for a clandestine meeting if avoiding being seen was the order of the day.’

I thought this described the kind of pub it was very well but when I first read it queried in my mind ‘order of the day’ as perhaps being a bit clichéd. Then I thought maybe it was very clever, ‘order of the day’ in relation to the kind of menu on offer. I’m still unsure about it but, if I had to come down either way, would go with my first instinct. (If indeed, this being a writers’ site you can have a ‘first’ instinct.)

I wondered if ‘now dead some five years’ was important to know, similarly do you need ‘anticipating a negative response’ ? (you already have ‘queried the possibility’ rather than ‘ordered’ which (I think) implies the same thing.

Chapter 7

Things I loved:

‘I could barely take my eyes off Alice’s boots. They belied the fragility of her body, as though grim determination alone might be capable of halting the decay. Solid and thick, with treads that wouldn’t be out of place on a truck, holding up her wasted frame, their ferocity tempered by a tender roll of wool against brittle ankles.’

Love this especially ‘They belied the fragility of her body, as though grim determination alone might be capable of halting the decay.’ and ‘their ferocity tempered by a tender roll of wool against brittle ankles.’

‘Obviously far too big. Obviously not intended for a woman, even before the wasting.’
I like this, the repetition of ‘obviously’ works nicely.

‘Maybe in the intervening years there’d been a husband.

Or a lover.

Or both.’
I like this too, very effective the way you set it out with the little thought-gaps.

‘.. find in her movement any trace of the glorious flesh she used to carry. There was now so little of her left, she’d probably vanish before Death could grasp her.’

You really ‘do’ Chrissy very well, her edginess and spikiness. (I sometimes find my self smirking at something she says/thinks, at the same time thinking ‘I really shouldn’t be smiling at this’)

‘utter embracing of purpose’
Very nice

‘She insisted the box go in the bag too. Wedged to one side by the foil-wrapped parcels, balanced at the other by the weight of the grey flask. Death and sustenance sharing space’

I liked this, ‘Death and sustenance sharing space’.

‘I felt good. Fenchurch had proved a timely antidote’. Yes. A lot expressed in a little.

I though it was interesting her father improved when she left. (Or was he slowly improving anyway? Is that just my perception?)

‘It’s a shame you never called or wrote,’
So very true. That’s just the kind of thing people say to pile on the guilt.

I thought the abortive phone call was well described, real and I liked’ For that brief moment, I’d thought it mattered’. (You repeat ‘mattered’ in the next paragraph, is that done intentionally for emphasis?)

‘For her generation, not having married is the sort of anomaly that warrants an explanation.’ Another neat observation. (But see later in my wonderings, do you contradict this a bit later in the chapter and is it done on purpose?).

‘– whilst the mother hung back, clinging onto smug detachment for as long as she could.’ Hahah. Yep! Can just picture the scene.

I really liked the paragraph beginning ‘Alice struggles with her memory’

‘so I sing along with the rest. I love, I lose and I carry on,’
I love this. The sort of resigned sentiment a person can identify with.

‘ Spencer knew all there was to know about the final truth and had kindly imparted his wisdom to the rest of us, which isn’t something you ever forget.’
Love the irony of ‘kindly’

“Tell me,” he said, “what you think you see?” He waved a hand, arcing it over the landscape of beach and people.
“I see families, enjoying the beach, the weather, swimming. Kids playing in the sand. The usual seaside stuff.”
He laughed. Short, sneering, disappointed. “What I see and what you also see were you to properly look, is the mindless repetition of a species too stupid to see their own futility.”

I’ve known Spencers in my time and at that age you hang on to their every utterance as being the ultimate Truth. You are infatuated by them, shelter behind their certainty of Life, fall in love with them sometimes, quote them to others because you know their thoughts are Truths and can’t understand why others can’t see this too. Later you become more discerning. Well drawn, Sandie.
‘
I never looked at people the same again’ I like the simplicity and resignation in this.

‘She said she was rested, we could carry on. She said the view further along was breathtaking. She sounded like an advertisement. She looks across that void and only counts colours, shapes, the lack of concrete. She doesn’t hear the ancient screams lingering in the wind, doesn’t feel the water’s icy shock, the vile suck as life is dragged down into darkness. The water is not blue. The sky is not blue. I’m not even sure the hills are green.’

Another paragraph I really liked. It also seems an important paragraph. I think it could stand out more, have more impact; it just seems to get a little lost where it is.

‘I wonder whether she ever once questioned her vision of self-contained happiness in the colder months, when that little girl was poking at the ground in the rain. But I suppose she never looked over the fence in winter.’

I really liked the tempo of this, the poignancy of ‘But I suppose she never looked over the fence in winter’.

Things I wondered about:

Two ‘development’ things got me wondering. What changed Chrissy’s mind about where to scatter the ashes (I thought she wanted to scatter them in the garden) and what happened to soften Chrissy’s attitude towards Alice? Is it that she can now see some of the ‘old Alice’, has her connection with Fenwick forged a deeper connection with the place and the present?
It could well be something I’ve missed whilst reading rather than lack of clarity on your part.

Another wonder: I wondered if you’d re-written/added this paragraph at some stage. I struggled with it a bit though there a parts of it I really like.

‘We sat on the wooden bench. Alice sipped her tea contentedly, pointed to wild flowers and grasses, commented on the clarity of the sky. I wondered why the nicest people never have children, why it only seems to be the ungrateful ones who do. I wanted to know why she didn’t find another young man, why she chose to spend more than sixty years alone, but I didn’t ask. Some anomalies don’t really need explanation. We’d come back to the song, to Love. There must be more dirges about it than all other topics combined. Its loss, its gain, its duplicitous nature, the longing, the loathing, the expectation, the futility. It’s an international obsession. Songs do their best, but they all have the same starting point – an assumption of Love as Truth. People think they’ve got it covered, there isn’t a lyric unwritten, but it all hangs on that acceptance of Love’s existence, its form. Without that not one of it makes sense. Where are the songs about Love’s fallacy? It’s less aesthetic biological drive?’

Before the flashback about the 105 steps you say ‘We continued the ascent. There was a wooden bench at the top of the steps – a thoughtful later addition for a weaker generation of climbers – and we sat for a while.’

Then straight after the flashback we have:

‘Shall we have a cup of tea?” I said to Alice. “Rest up for a minute?”
“That would be lovely, dear” .We sat on the wooden bench. Alice sipped her tea contentedly’
Weren’t they already sitting on the bench?

In the paragraph I quoted above you say ‘We’d come back to the song,’ Is this figurative?

You also say ‘Some anomalies don’t really need explanation’. Yet earlier in the chapter we have
‘For her generation, not having married is the sort of anomaly that warrants an explanation’ Is this a deliberate contradiction? A subtlety I’ve missed. (A later musing: (see how these things linger!) if it is a deliberate contradiction, then ‘No, some anomalies don’t really need explanation’ would have made that clearer to me, I think.)

Not sure about ‘It’s an international obsession’ though I know exactly what you’re saying.

‘Without that not one of it makes sense.’ Should this be ‘Without that none of it makes sense’

‘It’s less aesthetic biological drive?’ Again, I didn’t quite get this and found myself re-reading.

Though from the same paragraph I did love ‘the longing, the loathing, the expectation, the futility.’
and really liked ‘People think they’ve got it covered, there isn’t a lyric unwritten, but it all hangs on that acceptance of Love’s existence, its form.’
Sorry if I’m being obtuse with this paragraph. It’s more likely me reading it wrong.

You use ‘Fallacy’ twice close together.

Further thoughts on Chapter 7.
This has been tumbling around at the back of my mind for a couple of days now. I think what I am saying is that:

‘She said she was rested, we could carry on. She said the view further along was breathtaking. She sounded like an advertisement. She looks across that void and only counts colours, shapes, the lack of concrete. She doesn’t hear the ancient screams lingering in the wind, doesn’t feel the water’s icy shock, the vile suck as life is dragged down into darkness. The water is not blue. The sky is not blue. I’m not even sure the hills are green.’

is a really strong paragraph (your title too) and for me it would work even better if the climb to the cliff top, Alice’s back story and Chrissy’s thoughts during that section were condensed a little more. I offer this hesitantly.

Chapter 8

Things I loved:

‘The wind stole away her muttering as I hung back and checked my phone.’
I really liked ‘The wind stole away her muttering’ and later in the paragraph:

‘He signed off with an F and a kiss. I laughed. I’d called him Fen last night at the pub – told him Malcolm wasn’t a great name – but hadn’t called him anything later, in his bed, with Battle of Evermore filling my senses, his weight subduing the urge to soar, his penetration anchoring me to earth. A lover’s name, like the prostitute’s kiss is not something to be expended lightly’

It made me think. We do that, don’t we, change the names of our lovers and sometimes ourselves. Frees us sometimes when otherwise we might not make so free.

I wasn’t familiar with ‘The Battle of Evermore’ but had to smile when I googled and listened to it on Youtube. I bought ‘Raising Sand’ when that came out a few years ago– played it all that summer, often loud and often cavorting round the kitchen after a few glasses. Target reader?!

I love ‘fuck away the past’

‘I am no longer sure which of us was the most damaged. I’d always assumed it was him. That he was the failure, he was the man without a life – all messy past and no future – and I was the one who had broken free.’
Nice reflection.

You really do have relationships nailed. I’m reading the Chrissy and Pat, child and teenager section now, but
also Marion and Pete, Chrissy’s mum and dad…


‘I realised then.’ Simple but effective.
‘So I ask Alice now – at the grand old age of fifty – whether I’d been an accident. It was mildly pathetic to hear myself but I need to know.’ Adds another dimension

The scattering scene. Chrissy’s irreverence and concern with the practicalities, messiness contrasted with Alice’s quiet dignity.

‘ “What did she ever do wrong?” Alice said. “Yes, I know he wasn’t easy, I know that, but what did she do?” She was trying to hold herself still, trying to hang onto that measured tone, but there was venom within.’
‘
Alice might have thought the view justified a double-page spread in the tourist brochures, but I didn’t. It’s a desolate hell-hole frequented by nutters and poor sods who can’t walk their dogs on the beaches in summer.’ She’s caustic and cynical but she makes me smile. I think it is the irreverence.

Liked the exchange between Chrissy and Alice re: selfishness

Things I wondered about:

A point I’d not thought of. ‘Red Indian – Native American’. Difficult for you. As a reader (not a writer) it’s something you tend not to think about but I guess you have to qualify so as not to risk causing offence.

Ah. ‘Judy’s dog’. So it is important we remember that particular dog. That’s why you introduce ‘Judy’ so we remember the dog. Would we remember it as well if it was defined by a particular characteristic rather than its owner? Does she appear again?

‘Aged wood, carved in capitals, jutting out with the sort of importance that suggested it was a major throughput’. I liked this but wondered if ‘throughput’ should be ‘thoroughfare’

Chapter 9

Things I loved:

Back with Mervyn, I really liked the change of pace, location and characters.

‘But Danny always motors, which is why he’s gone so far in the business and which, with a face like his, has got to be the right policy.’
Made me smile

‘It was the one deadline he feared.’ Striking

‘She and Danny have been with him forever. The others come and go. The others need managing. Constantly.’
Liked the brevity of the sentences.

Mug with the (MC) pig and the way it faces, a nice touch.

‘The dead sister he’d never got to know’
Has Chrissy told him Pat was her sister? Got me thinking.

The whole of the section about his feelings for Chrissy, the complexity, and the development of their relationship is very well done.

‘The lifestyle had sucked her in. He should never have done it; should have known. He’d saved her from one fate only to consign her to its glamorous twin. A person doesn’t walk away from that.’
I really liked this. (I do like the way you use ‘a person’, I know I’ve said it before, but I do).

‘Marion and Pete didn’t often argue. Unresolved differences were generally left to stagnate and eventually they too would drop and lie in a dormant silt of other pointless conversations that had never taken place. Arguing is unnecessary where compromise reigns.’

Hahah, brilliant! Another great observation and very well expressed. Flies on walls.

‘Phyllis extracted coins from a worn purse, one at a time, checking both sides before placing them on the counter tails up, poking them into an orderly row with a curled rheumatic finger. Marion eyed the queue, smiled apologetically and shifted back onto the right foot. Her ankles were killing her, feet swollen against the straps of her sandals, their flesh bulging out of the gaps.’

Great vignette with Phyllis Evans – nicely observed. I can just picture it. The mounting frustration ‘but that too was unacceptable. The correct action was to wait patiently,’ Love it!

‘The world was full of unjustified complaint’. Yep.

This family as with the family in chapter seven, the wife silently getting her own back. Made me smile.

‘the road to death was still a distant horizon and they were fools to focus on its hazy shimmer.’ I love the ‘they were fools to focus on its hazy shimmer’.

Things I wondered about:

‘chocolate fireguard’ Cliché? (or does it work because of the context. Not sure)

“Two sixty you say, love?”
I found myself thinking, ‘ooh, that seems cheap for fish and chips,’ then thinking ‘perhaps she has a pensioner’s special’. It kind of distracted me a bit.

Fair bit of ‘retirement’.


I'm still really enjoying this, wondering how it's all going to pan out. I find it very easy to get absorbed in your writing and love your style.

More later view book

I’m so pleased to have had the opportunity of reading this, I’ve been itching to for a while now and it’s been so frustrating that things elsewhere have got in the way to prevent me. This is fabulous writing, polished and well edited with some brilliant and often wry little observations. Your style seems natural and unselfconscious and your storyline makes me want to read on. Ranks amongst the most accomplished and ‘finished’ I’ve read here.

When I really like something I find myself ‘oooh, ooohing’ and frantically copying sentences, phrases, words that I like. I’ve copied whole chunks. This is just in tidied-up note form so I hope you can follow it.

Chapter 1

Things I loved:

‘I’d long ceased to be a riddle worth solving’.

‘Clothes that had once touched curves hung pathetically over sharp shoulders, dragging her towards the ground in future readiness.’ Very poignant, very visual.

I like the short staccato sentences.

‘She handed over a rigid cardboard box, lighter than her shaky hands suggested, and waited to be invited in. “What’s this?” An opaque mist clouded the old girl’s eyes. Marine blue viewed through a mid-day haze. She paused, lips moving in tiny, silent quivers, echoing the question, holding it still long enough to work a reply.“It’s your mother, Christine.”

Wow. “It’s your mother, Christine.” Gave me a sharp intake of breath. Brilliant line.

‘I liked her when I was little’
A lot contained in a little. You have the ability to do this over and over. Just a few words to describe whole concepts.

I thought the vignette with Alice on the beach was very touching.

‘Surfaces imbued with the steam of domestic effort. Simple menus learned with raw marital enthusiasm, perfected over decades, served and consumed in apathetic routine.’
Ooh, yes, yes, yes.

‘Whilst I waited, half-listening to half a conversation, I paced the rooms. Looking but not touching – part-visitor, part-curator – struck by both strangeness and familiarity, noting the location of objects long forgotten.’ Nice.

‘– and he’d be standing behind, rigid. Anger waiting for release. I hadn’t looked in the cupboard but I knew the pressure cooker would still be there.’
I liked the pressure cooker/ exploding anger analogy.

‘He sounded tired. He used to thrive on deadlines, now they were killing him.’

‘Twenty-one hundred hours’
– the man in a nutshell, says it all then following same theme ‘absent without leave’. Very good and again a whole character summed up in a few words.

‘She would have tidied my room, he would have gone to his shed to paint more relics, burn his gaze into
his own mistakes for a change.’
I love that you use ‘she’ and ‘he’ and ‘burn his gaze into his own mistakes for a change.’ an almost throw-away line but very effective.

‘The present is all we have – the rest is only anticipation or disappointment’
I really liked this. Is it an original or a quote from somewhere? (Great line but there’s a similar one in a later chapter which dilutes it a bit – Chapter 6).

‘the wooden hairbrush with its eerie embedded strands of white,’ so much conveyed in so few words

Evocative ‘copy of Jackie’

‘He was a man damaged by his own expectations.’ another brilliant line.

‘Banal calm’ lovely juxtaposition. Makes you feel calm just saying it.

I liked the ‘Attended to the detail’

‘And I was sure, had either man known in the heat of things what actually lay beyond that noise, they’d have willingly swapped survival for eternal glory. ‘ Great way to end the first chapter.

Things I wondered about:

‘Like a much loved blanket’ I wasn’t quite so keen on that, thought it might be a bit of a cliché

I’m not sure about ‘triteness personified’

Re: the dog dying. Do we need to know the owner is Judy?

Not sure about ‘no wonder the wallpaper looked depressed’

Not sure about ‘uber-modern’

I wondered what I’d missed when you used a capital for ‘Regret’

‘detritus’ you use this twice close together


Chapter 2

Things I loved:

This is a Marion chapter, written at a slower pace, clever of you to differentiate and help define the characters this way.

‘“Amen.” The rumble of voices punctuated the prayers with a full stop. Pews rattled as those able to kneel pushed themselves back into a seated position. Marion no longer took to her knees to pray, her bulk these days likely to wedge between the seat and the back of the neighbouring pew, but did at least lean forward uncomfortably – in solidarity with the more nimble, if nothing else.’
Hah, neatly observed.

‘Sunday was now the only day they had together, alone, as a couple, with no social responsibilities beyond morning church attendance. Sundays were a guilty treat. Sundays were their marital salvation. There had been a time when these precious afternoons – even in the summer months – were spent in bed, naked bodies fused in sunlight though open curtains, tenderness reconnecting two as one at the end of the working week, reinforcing love for the start of the next. But Marion was far too self-conscious for daylight sex now. These days they were more likely to take a walk on the beach, read the papers over tea in the garden or, in the colder months, light a fire and sit in silent togetherness. They’d once joked about being like an old couple and its echo had lingered, an uncomfortable truth.’

Loved ‘marital salvation’. This is so sad, so true, so poignant, makes me a bit teary if I think about it too long. Searingly heart-aching.

‘There’s an almost instinctive tendency to stop touching the elderly and it’s a loss they feel.’
D’you know I hadn’t thought about this before, but you’re right. I think that’s the mark of a good writer, to jolt the reader a little, make them recognise the previously unrecognised.

‘So, Chrissy had travelled. Or had she just kept running’

‘She felt her eyes prick; a heaviness pressing her down. A desire to ask him to just drive and keep on driving, until it grew dark and they ran out of fuel and she broke properly. But how many miles would that take? She’d already travelled thirty years on half-empty. ‘
Particularly liked the ‘She’d already travelled thirty years on half-empty’. (Now I see regrets with a capital R but maybe they’re my own).

You lead very nicely up to:

‘ “Who is she?” “The bitch who caused dad’s heart attack. I don’t want to talk about her.’

Things I wondered about:

You have ‘cradling a flower arrangement, its scent cloying in the stuffy air.’ is close to ‘sickening herself with the heavy scent of the bouquet.’


Ch3

Things I loved:

‘had I known when I met him how high he’d rise, I might not have bothered pursuing the dream. Might just have settled on a slightly overweight, chain-smoking ticket to security. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.’
Sure is! I like this.

‘Add this to the wave’s crest, that absolute peak of success, and it’s impossible to see weakness, all you see is strength.’

‘You’d think only a fool would screw things up when they’ve achieved so much. It’s only later, when you’re in way too deep, that you discover you picked that fool.’
Great lines.

‘the new soft leather of her boots outclassing its weary fabric, pitted with cigarette burns and sticky with
old beer spills.’
Very good. Love the ‘outclassing’.

Clever writing. You don’t say ‘Chrissie has long blond hair’ You do have someone call her ‘Blondie’ and have her hair grazing the floor. Neat

I like the paragraphs from:
‘I’m travelling backwards again’…. to ……. ‘So I told her I wanted to put them in the garden.’
Great characterisation and emphasising the contrast with Marion.

‘Chrissy’ and ‘Christine’. I like the way you differentiate. I wonder if there’s a Chrissy and Christine in us all. The Chrissy in me has sneaked off to write this; the Christine should be hoovering before the family come over for lunch.

‘The girl says nothing. In punishing her mother she does not affect her father, but still she says nothing. Somebody has to feel it. She can’t bear all of this alone’
So true.

‘You can either move forward in the fog and never understand why life hurts so much, or you can start to think about the whole damn truth again, in reverse, until the muddle fades and you’re back where you first started – although by now, half your life has gone and you’re not sure you can be arsed to plod through the rest’
Bloody hell. Ever thought about taking up philosophy?! That’s just how it is.

Things I wondered about:

Not sure about ‘at the top of their game’


Chapter 4

Things I loved:

‘But people invent their own histories, one way or another. Selectively editing the past to impress or amuse or garner pity. It’s the way we tell stories.’
Love it

‘a wilful removal of the mundane’
Lovely phrase and I know just what you mean. ‘ My Pictures’, all holidays, Christmases and family gatherings – Ha, see you say virtually the same thing.


I liked (her father’s) ‘Disapproving flow’.

‘A desire to capture the truth ultimately only traps an insular lie, holds it for eternity – for endless interpretation – and the past becomes whatever the present desires.’
Yep!

‘Even now, I feel him, smell him, see his eyes, taste his mouth, hear his words. I knew that passion. It was real. There are times I can reach out a hand in the dark and swear I touch him. And Pat. So brutally close. A furious loyalty. A measure of all I was and all I was not. Every clear recollection I have from those days hangs on these two passions. To have once felt so fiercely for other human beings is surreal to me now. To have lost it, even more so.’
I love ‘furious loyalty’ and ‘felt so fiercely’ and especially the final, deadening ‘To have lost it, even more so’

Things I wondered about:

Really sorry but didn’t know what ‘incalzando’ meant and had to look it up. Couldn’t find it in an online dictionary but did in a musical one. Me being thick probably. I would have guessed at something like ‘ebbing and flowing’ or ‘pulsating’.

‘And if I had to describe my teenage years in one word, it would be surreal.’

You use ‘surreal’ here and it crops up again, quite close, in the paragraph I quoted earlier

‘Even now, I feel him, smell him, see his eyes, taste his mouth, hear his words. I knew that passion. It was real. There are times I can reach out a hand in the dark and swear I touch him. And Pat. So brutally close. A furious loyalty. A measure of all I was and all I was not. Every clear recollection I have from those days hangs on these two passions. To have once felt so fiercely for other human beings is surreal to me now. To have lost it, even more so.’

Chapter 5

Things I loved:
‘Our edges are, shall we say, very irregular. It probably riled him to realise at that point how a twenty-year sporadic affair had revealed no more than flesh’
Wry smile. Another observation that has me shaking my head in acknowledgement.

‘I just needed him. He got a seat on a plane the next morning, broke his vows to Mrs Levy the Fourth, and my world readjusted at a pace of one day for each spoiled year.~ As he seems to have the knack of righting me when I tip,’
Very neat. So much conveyed in ‘broke his vows to Mrs Levy the Fourth’. Clever.

‘Various songs have appropriately summed up my life over the years. There isn’t one constant. I have favourites, or should I say a few regulars seek me out from time to time. It’s ironic, given my dislike of the backward glance, to appreciate words which emphasise the past. Words which hurt.’

I could have quoted any of the paragraphs relating to songs and recollections here. They all got to me. I particularly like here ‘a few regulars seek me out from time to time’,( yep, they creep up on us don’t they, not always when we expect them to, plunge us into an orgy of nostalgia) and’ It’s ironic, given my dislike of the backward glance, to appreciate words which emphasise the past.’

More later... view book

You had me captivated from your first sentence and by the end of your first paragraph you had me completely. Such fluid writing, so natural, I love the immediacy of it, the way I was drawn immediately into Simon’s mind, Simon’s world. I’ve read all that you have posted here and would love to read more, there’s a kind of effortless, elegant simplicity about it. Very good. Very, very good, Fontaine.

All the best
Ellie view book

Hello Jeffrey

I looked at this briefly several months ago and have come back and now read all you have posted here. For me from (your) chapter 2 it really came alive, grabbed my interest, held me; the story rattles along, you hold several threads together and I would want to read on. There are a few typos but generally it’s pretty well edited. (I noticed somewhere you refer to ‘pounds of eggs’. Do you buy them by the weight in U.S. or were you being figurative? Also a reference to Princess Diana which although contemporary with your story now seems a bit dated).

It would be easy to leave it there but you asked me to read and I would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t point out the things that didn’t work quite so well for me as well as the things that did.

‘A farmer and biologist investigating cattle mutilations discover the source of the attacks.’ I don’t think this does you any favours – seems a bit dry.

I have do admit skimming and then skipping your prologue/poem, it just didn’t hold my attention. I’m really sorry but I found the start to your chapter 1 a little too rich; I speak as someone who loves poetic prose, the fusion of the two but for me it seemed a bit too finely wrought for the context, almost trying too hard. Apologies. By the time you introduce the cowhands I’m wavering, so many people to take in.

I think what I am saying is that had you not asked me to read, on the strength of your pitch, prologue and first chapter I probably would have given up which would have been such, such a shame. I thought the start of (your) chapter 2 was brilliant and liked the book very much from that point where you combine the robust and the delicate with a fluid easy style.

Sorry if this offends. I will remove it if you would like me too.

Regards
Ellie view book

What an imagination you have here and how well sustained, such beautiful writing too but not at all showy, never overwhelming the story, simply great quality. I’ve ventured beyond my comfort zone with this and you had me riveted. Very well done view book

I wasn’t looking for a distraction here, my watchlist is full to brimming and there’s so much I should be doing elsewhere but your title caught my eye, intrigued me, then your pitch held me so I dipped in. You said you wanted constructive feed back so I started slowly taking notes as I went along but by the time I reached chapter three I’d ditched that approach and just read for the pleasure of it. The short answer then to your question is yes, this does have legs, yes, I do want to read on but you say this is a work in progress so I will post my observations such as they are.

Ah, the great title debate. I thought it was fabulous but I know others disagree. I don’t know what the current thinking is on titles and have no experience of writing or expertise in this at all I can only speak as a reader and how it felt to me. If it wasn’t for your title I wouldn’t have looked at your book but listen to a few people who you know and admire then go with what you feel. (I know I tend towards the purple in this sort of thing, go for look and sound above meaning sometimes). Your pitch was compelling too otherwise, again, I would have just clicked and clicked onwards.

So, from the few notes I did take as I went along:

Chapter One

I loved the happenstance, flutter of a butterfly wing introduction which then slipped seamlessly into the narrative.

I liked ‘strode his usual loose-limbed bounce’.

Wasn’t sure about the dialogue which seemed a bit stilted.

Not keen on the ‘tentatively’ stroking her back.

I loved, absolutely loved the description of the house.

Not so keen on ‘he said eagerly, urgently’, nor ‘almond-shaped eyes wide’.

I thought ‘this break had been about forgetting, about building bridges. Maybe this place was our bridge’ was really lovely.

Didn’t like ‘the agent agreeing with alacrity’ – in fact the whole of the estate agent, house viewing extract didn’t read true.

I loved ‘the total derelict insanity of it’ and ‘it felt . . . right somehow, like a long forgotten memory, like a song that plays on the edge of your mind, tantalising with its elusive melody’ but then spoilt for me a little by the brutal ‘this place and I … we had business’ .

Upon reflection when I’d read all that you’ve posted here I felt that Chapter one was your weakest chapter. However, it was still good enough to make me want to read on.

Chapter Two

By now I’ve stopped noting the passages I particularly like because I’ve settled into your writing, love your descriptions and like your style, even little things like ‘lazy loops’ are a pleasure.

However, I didn’t care for ‘my long chestnut hair’ nor ‘smiled weakly’ and wasn’t sure about ‘soft Italianate lips’. You say ‘clocked’ too which seemed a bit out of character.

By the end of Chapter Two you’ve thrown a few things in to hook the reader and ‘still married’ made me think.

Chapter Three
Stopped with the picky bits now and just enjoying the story and your writing. Does it have legs? Definitely.

End of notes.

I read to the end and liked it very much; the erotic bit was well done (didn’t jar clumsily like those passages sometimes can) and the online exchanges which must resonate with many, was soft and eerie, delicately written. You convey her wanting to look and not wanting to look very well. The atmosphere and character of the house is developing strongly too.

You have loads of ideas, a lot going on here and I guess by the end of the book everything will be tied up but at this stage it just seems, to me at least, as though all your ideas are struggling, fighting to get out and be put down on paper and maybe need tightening up a bit. I’ve never written, for all I know this might be part of the writing process, get it all out of you and then sort it out later. I think you have the makings of something good here and you seem, in the nicest way possible, to have been round the block a few times, so with your talent for promotion (which is not at all a criticism – there are several fantastic books here which may never see the light of day solely through lack of promotion) I’m sure you will do very well. It will be interesting to see the final version.

Regards
Ellie view book

An outstanding opening chapter, vivid, vibrant with great momentum. I really liked the ‘King and Queen’ imagery and the contrast between the inner and outer world, perception and reality. Your writing seems natural and unforced and you carried me along with the beat and pace of it. In the second chapter you subtly adapt the tone and rhythm to reflect the more ordinary, mundane circumstances and surroundings which I thought was clever and neat, and I loved the opening paragraph and following two lines. There is an unobtrusive humour in your writing too which I enjoyed ‘the fourth was watching her weight’, little observations like that, almost asides. I can see why this is proving so popular, James, and wish you all the best.

Ellie view book

I was so pleased to be able to read this in one go, but what a place to leave me. It’s certainly left me wondering, thinking about it afterwards; almost an ending in itself. Intriguing. You drew me in completely from the start, deftly delineating the characters of Tim and Naomi and the nature of their exclusive friendship without wasting a word. The friends to lovers theme, will they, won’t they, is enduring and always makes me smile in fond recognition so for me it works on this level alone but with the introduction of dreams and mirrors I know I’m in for so much more. What is real and what’s an illusion? I love it, Simon, and can’t wait to read on, see where it takes me.

Wishing you all the best
Ellie view book

I have only had chance to read a couple of chapters of No Kiss Good-bye but can see why you have met with the huge response you have. The narrative is compelling, the characters (I’ve met so far) are very strongly drawn and beyond that you have the personal interest aspect too.

I very much enjoyed some of your turns of phrase,

‘With a glower, she bent me into surrender.’

‘Tucked beneath appearances’

I wish I could have read more but good luck with your manuscript, I hope it gets the attention it deserves. And what a life you have led. All the best.

Ellie


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I’ve just taken a second look at The Blackberry Season and am still impressed by your writing, some lovely ‘dabs’ as Ron/Orlando would say, original word combinations, neat little turns of phrase. You engaged me from the start and carried me with you wanting to know more, to discover how it all turns out, to learn exactly what caused David’s character to change as it has. All your characters are strongly delineated and credible and you portrayal of everyday life is finely observed. I can see this appealing to a wide range of readers and, if I’m right, with the right publisher I think The Blackberry Season could become a great commercial success.

Good luck.
Ellie view book

You write with empathy and humour without ever veering towards the mawkish and crass. I liked the contrast between AJ’s adventures with Bench which seemed almost surreal in context and the very real worry and anxiety back home very effectively conveyed via email. I thought your State of mind statements were neat and clever too. I’ve read the first few chapters, the last couple and a few more randomly in between and this is quality writing throughout. I found some of the chapters a little long for reading on screen but that’s just me and I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem at all on the printed page. I don’t often read requests but in this case I’m so pleased I did. Highly starred. Good luck.

Ellie view book

This is very entertaining and a rollicking good read, reminds me of pre-adolescent summers spent furtively scanning McGill postcards; it made me laugh and giggle, a bit like I do when I see Sausage in Cider on a menu. It’s very funny, yes, but there is so much more there too and it would be an injustice to define Wilberforce and Grace by humour alone. Well done and good luck.

Ellie view book

The strength and fragility of the mind, what enables us to keep going and what tips us over the edge. Any of us. An authentic and very real account of one man amongst many trying to make sense of a scary, often hostile world. Honest, quality writing, minutely observed and brilliantly conveyed. Starred and backed. view book

Intriguing, enigmatic and quite remarkable.

We are drawn into the fascinating world of Yuko Zen and beyond, sneaking through her journal as she makes the transition into a young woman encountering good and bad, love and fear, the known and the unknown. There is a pleasing calmness about your book, whether this is the satisfying pace and flow of your writing, the tranquillity of Yuko’s mum, or the underlying philosophy I don’t know; a serenity almost, an acceptance, but with sudden jolting explosions and happenings.

I very much liked the form and structure of this, the journal (both what is written and what was written and is no longer there) holds the attention, the suspense builds and the double twist at the end is fantastic. It is thought-provoking, the flutter of a butterfly’s wing; a book for anyone who has ever wondered what might have been.

I shall be interested to read an HC review of this, it is so different and deserves to be recognised.

Ellie view book

This seems like a story that’s been inside you for ages that you just had to write, a story you know so well that it just tumbles onto the page. It has an authentic feel to it and I’m rattling through, ten chapters in without really realising. I particularly liked :

‘I can hear boxes thumping, him moving around downstairs, killing more of our house, pulling out the stuff that makes it alive.’

and

‘But old drink that smells of sick and blame’

Compelling reading, Simon, I hope this does well for you.

Ellie
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Sensual and seductive. Powerful writing, soulful, nostalgic and intensely moving. I was captivated from the moment I stepped with you into the Piazza San Marco, was gently caressed, brutally shaken and felt an overwhelming emptiness when I finished reading. I loved the weaving of fact and fiction, the atmospheric settings, moody, hazy grey interspersed with vibrant colour, flashing, cinematic. A book of longing, a book of rare brilliance, a book I shall not forget.

Ellie view book