Review: The Mother Garden and The Mercy Papers by Robin Romm

These two touching and moving books were yet again gifts from my US editor, to whom I am forever grateful. She works on wonderful books and has excellent taste but, of course, I would say that.

I'm sure you would too if you read these books. The first, The Mother Garden, is a book of short stories with a definite theme. In every story there is a mother and, in each of them, this mother is either dead or dying. The book is a smorgasboard of oxygen tanks and chemotherapy, of lives lived on but with an inevitably massive hole. Most of the stories are firmly planted in the soil of realism, except perhaps 'The Mother Garden' of the title. This slightly surreal piece contains many different mothers brought together and planted in an attempt to fill the hole left by the main character's lost mum.

The entire collection is touching and compelling. I often find short story collections tricky, enough of the stories leaving me cold to make finishing an entire book difficult, but this was definitely an exception. I was compelled to pick it up and continue until I had finished them all. Since, I've found I wanted to buy it for friends, one of the biggest compliments I could give a book, passing it on to people I care about.

It's no surprise then, that reading Romm's bio, you find pretty quickly that she did lose her mother in the recent past. The Mercy Papers is her record of that experience. It's a sad book, so very sad, but it's also incredibly honest, at turns angry, aware and vibrant. It's beautifully written in that clear concise style that seems to be such a mainstay of American publishing. Crafted. Although the subject matter is sad, and it could be depressing, I didn't feel depressed afterwards so much as full of compassion for those who have, are and will go through such things. All of us, then.

I hate to use a cliche but I feel I have to here, about these books, and that is that they are two sides of the same coin. This is an overused turn of phrase, but it does describe perfectly what I felt on reading these two pieces of writing so sod it. Romm documents what I think must be her most life changing experience so far in a memoir, then fiction. In doing so she gives the most complete picture I could ever imagine and that's as much as a writer can ever do. I am full of admiration.

I wrote a story once on this topic which I couldn't help but think of when I read Romm's books. In fact, it was my first pubished piece of fiction. I don't think for a moment it stands up to what Robin Romm has achieved. They say write what you know, and I didn't know this at all, though I could imagine it and have, as we all do, in bad dreams and moments of worry. I can imagine it whole lot better now thanks to Robin Romm's insightful and moving account.

I can't recommend these books highly enough.

All publicity?

This year, I was asked to be on the judging panel of the Authors' Club First Novel Award. The way the award works is that all members of the Authors' Club are encouraged to read the entered books and to write reports on them, and then everything is compiled and compared by the committee, who work out a shortlist and pass it on to the adjudicator, this year Philip Hensher. The entire event climaxes with a lovely dinner, and presentation of the prize by the final judge, and this happened last Monday. Chad and I went along - it was only polite and the food is always so good. It was the best night out I've had in ages, Mr Hensher was a scream, and the evening ended with Chad, myself and a couple of other miscreants in the Groucho club. I'm not sure what I was expecting the Groucho to be like, except that this wasn't it. I guess I had pictures in my head of people dressed in bright jackets and dancing on the tables. It was classy, instead, and yet relaxed, with young, arty members. I can totally see why it was seen as a breath of fresh air compared to other London Clubs.

One of the highlights of the night for me (apart from having such a laugh with cool people) was meeting the Independent on Sunday's current literary editor. I have to admit, I quite enjoyed the blanche in her cheeks when she was introduced, having run, just the day before, by far the worse review I have ever received. I won't link to it here. I'm not giving the writer of said review any publicity at all, so if you want to see it, you can find it yourself. I'm not even going to comment about the review; people can read my books and make their own minds up and I don't expect everyone to like them. In fact, I quite deliberately write fiction that provokes, and think it's a bit of a victory that there are people who can't quite deal with the worlds I create.

What I will say is the same as I said on the night, to the literary editor sat two places away at dinner. No matter what a review says, I'd rather it existed than not. I believe every mention of your name, of the book, is of vital importance. Maybe I wouldn't feel the same if there weren't plenty of good reviews out there to balance the bad, but I do know this; when the Chatto edition of Starfishing came out, it didn't pick up many reviews at all, and it was completely dispiriting. There's nothing worse than a book being more or less ignored, so I'm pleased that it's getting so much more attention this time around. I'm also pleased that most of that attention is positive, but the odd bad review, even a real stinker like the I on S printed, is still worth having.

I've been thinking a lot about that adage all publicity is good publicity. PT Barnum apparently said 'I don't care what they say about me, just make sure they spell my name right!' and I like that attitude, and it works for me as a writer. But I'm not sure we can totally follow these rules in these days of celebrity obsession.

Take poor old Lily Allen. Hounded at home, followed around, chased by cars. Does it sound familiar? I'm sure that we were all left in shock about ten years ago by a woman who was hunted and chased by the press to such an extent it was contributory to her death, in a certain tunnel in Paris. Thank god, then, that the powers that be have made a sensible move and given Lily a court order to keep the dogs from her door. Sure, she courts publicity for her work, who doesn't? And she writes good music and lives a certain lifestyle, so lots of people are interested in her. I don't think this is a fair reason to hound the girl the way the press have been doing. There has to be a limit.

And talking of that limit can only lead us to the current Princess of our Hearts, Jade Goody, and her reality TV life. I'm not sure what there is left to say about the poor woman, except that I hope there was a pre-nup and that her babies see every penny of the money squeezed out with her dying breaths. Of course, that's after OK! take their cut, and Max Clifford of course, and all the rest. Magic.

For me, the whole Jade Goody nightmare was summed up by an anonymous and provocative local artist, all over Nottingham and also here. Quality.

It is her boys I feel for. No matter how much it's providing your inheritance, losing your mum must be bad enough. To see her illness plastered all over the papers and TV and not be able to turn away from it must be too much to bear. I just hope they are left alone now to deal with their grief.

RIP Jade. Well, if you want to, though I can't help wondering if we should send a photographer down there with you babe.

Some book reviews...

How Not to Write a Novel by Howard Mittelmark and Sandra Newman
The List by Tara Ison

I received How Not to Write a Novel direct from the publisher and the title put me off to begin with; I prefer to be told 'how to' do something, in general, than deal with negativity, but the book came with a note of recommendation from somebody I know and respect, and so I decided to read it. I have to say, I was very pleasantly surprised, and I laughed a lot.

The book's structured around the various aspects of novel writing, plot, character, style etc and full of amusing examples of how to get your work rejected. It's astute, sardonic and generally very witty. Sure, it has a slightly superior tone in places, but I think it mostly avoids that, and whispers in the reader's ear 'are you sure you're not doing this?' I'm sure that if everyone who thought about sending submissions to editors or agents read this book, they could save themselves a lot of time and postage money, and improve the quality of what gets called the 'slush pile'.

I didn't agree with everything the book said and I certainly haven't always followed all its rules. For example, it said that writing about a break up was certain to get your book rejected and, in a sense, both my novels have featured one. I've just read a really great book that takes a break up as it's central subject (see below) and do think that bad relationships are too good a source of material to avoid. But I saw plenty that made sense in this book - and it's definitely one I would have recommended to my students, when I had them.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read, and filled with useful information presented in a more compelling way than the usual dry tone of the 'how to get published' or 'how to write a novel' books I've read. Recommended.

The List by Tara Ison is another book I was lucky enough to get for free - one of the biggest perks of being a published writer. This one was sent by Alexis, my US editor. She does think of me when she sees books I might like and I always enjoy them so thanks Alexis! It's taken me a wee while to get around to this one because I've had so much else I've felt I needed to read over the past year or so. It took me a good while to get to this one, but I am glad I finally did.

It's beautifully written, really elegant prose and Ison uses some complex ideas and unusual metaphors to bring the language alive. It has a small cast of characters, but they are incredible vividly drawn.

The story is almost exclusively about a break up, which apparently breaks the rules, but perhaps this book gets away with it because it's so well done. It's very, very compelling, car crash stylie, so that you know what's coming a lot of the time and don't want to see but you can't look away. You get the feeling these two people could be perfect for each other, if they were prepared to let each other go their own way. Isabel, the obsessive career surgeon, has found the perfect contented house husband if she'd just lighten up and realise that not everyone has to 'contribute' in the way she feels the need to. Al could work a little harder at explaining himself, at making sure Isabel understands why he's so contented with life, but also communicating the way he really feels about her. But then, I'm not even sure he knows he isn't. Men, innit?

The story pulls you along at quite a pace, getting darker by the page, just my kind of fiction. It's one of the best I've read for ages. The only slight negative for me was the ending. I really thought she had it just right and that I had reached the end, but there were pages left. There's not much I can say without spoilers, except that the last chapter significantly lightened the ending, and not in a way I could believe or level with. I would have left this final bit out. But, then, that's me. I'm dark, as I keep reminding my husband.

Highly recommended.