Endless chick-lit

Still the talk goes on about how the women's commercial fiction genre is in recession with the genre's household names watching their sales fall. Jodi Picoult's name crops up in several articles, and though I wouldn’t have classed her as a chick-lit author she certainly comes in under women’s commercial fiction.

The facts are plain. Her book Picture Perfect (Hodder Paperback, June 2010) sold 238,832 copies in its first two months on shelves, but with Harvesting the Heart (Hodder Paperback, June 2011) sales fell by almost 50% to just 120,235 copies.

I’ve read a couple of Picoult’s titles and have heard her speak at Hexham Literary Festival. The first few titles I enjoyed, but it’s an odd kind of enjoyment when the characters are so tortured, and to be honest I can’t face having my emotions wrenched about any more. Perhaps other readers feel the same, and Picoult’s vogue has passed. This may be the answer in general. After all, how many titles in a similar genre can you read before ennui sets in? By the time I’d ploughed my way through all the James Bond stories, I think I’d be heartily sick of them and wouldn’t want another. I’ve read a good few Nora Roberts but now pass them by on the shelves because I know how she develops her characters and ties up her stories. Perhaps the charm and success of Jane Austen is that hers is a limited output, so small that the reader is left wanting more. Had she written twenty-five novels, we’d maybe tire of her writing too.

Thunderstorms and Libraries

We have a thunderstorm rolling around above us
right now so I guess Whittle Dene burn will soon be flowing a good deal faster than it was the other day!
I read my first Jodi Picoult book last week. I've seen her name in the best seller lists for some time now and finally succumbed to curiosity. The Tenth Circle held my interest to the last page but it was one of those stories where the author withholds certain prime facts that alter the whole perception of the work. All the way through it was fairly obvious that something was not quite right about the juvenile lead character - "there's a rabbit off 'ere somewhere," as my dad used to say - and the parents are suspect in more ways than one, but we were not allowed enough clues to work it out for ourselves.
Remember me? on the other hand, is Sophie Kinsella doing very well. I have not read enough of hers to say it is her best, but this one seemed a little more than chick-lit to me. Imagine waking up after an accident, and finding you don't recognise yourself, and can't remember the last three years during which you evidently changed your entire personality. Good premise? I enjoyed it.
The French Gardener (Montefiore) is the story of a love affair. Quiet, reflective, and a pleasure to read. Sometimes sad, sometimes funny, always magical.

Went into Newcastle to day to view the newly opened City Library, and was impressed. The old building closed mid 2006 and the new one opened on 7th June. Click here to check it out. Though I do not live in the city, nor even in the Tyne and Wear district, I was eligible to join and so I did. We tried coffee and a scone in the restaurant that is on a separate floor to the books, and visited the Local History and Interest level where I succeeded in drawing attention to myself by knocking a steel shelf marker onto the floor. Within seconds a member of staff appeared, asking if it had struck my toe. Good job it didn't, as the wretched thing was heavy. I also managed to shove my card into the computer and then look silly when it wouldn't accept it, do anything with it or regurgitate it. All borrowing is automated. With the help of one of the "floating staff" I managed to borrow a book - Writing Movies by Gotham Writers' Workshop.