Conscious of the fact that I want and need to improve my own personal essay writing skills, I’m launching my own weekly essay series, entitled Robservations. In these essays I will endeavour to mainly cover the subject of reading and writing, but in the sprit of Montaigne and with total reverence for him, my topics will often be random, wide-ranging and inward looking. I begin with absolute randomness, by taking a brief look at the condition known as checkout blindness.

*****

When heading towards the checkouts in the supermarket I’m often amazed by the number of shoppers who seem blighted by a condition that causes temporary blindess to their peripheral vision. The condition – which I like to call ‘checkout blindness’ – seems mainly to occur when the tills are busy and queues have formed, or when a single checkout is free of customers. Staring blindly in a forwardly direction as though blinkered, the poor souls who are afflicted with the condition fail to notice anyone else in the vicinity, and they become particularly ignorant of anyone who is heading to the same checkout lane that they are.

It appears that when checkout blindness strikes, single-mindedness grips the individual. The sufferer craves nothing more than victory, and they put on a subtle yet obvious burst of speed to ensure that they reach the queue or the empty checkout lane, ahead of all those who they are blind to.

I’ll admit to succumbing once or twice in the past to checkout blindness myself, but in engaging so I’ve never once felt like celebrating whatever ‘victory’ I’ve achieved. Rather, I feel ashamed and disappointed with myself for having played host to such trivialities, and for not having the strength of character to stave off such selfish compulsion.

Loss of peripheral vision may blight many a self-serving and inconsiderate shopper, but there is an even more serious form of checkout blindness that seems to cause almost total sight loss. An attack is triggered when an operator announces that an adjoining unused checkout is becoming available to the next customer. Not only do the shoppers at the end of the queue determine ‘next’ to mean them – they are completely checkout blind to those in front of them – but they, along with a number of others, rush rabble-like to the left or to the right, completely oblivious to one another.

Despite the one or two weak moments I’ve had, I feel myself to be completely immune to checkout blindness. I care not one bit about getting to a checkout ahead of somebody else, preferring instead to look upon sufferers of checkout blindness with pity, as I pause to let them pass before me. They may smugly celebrate their short and sharp victory at having pipped me at the post, but the real triumph is mine. Not only am I able to hold my head high having prevented myself from succumbing to what is a most inconsiderate ailment, but I also get to take comfort in the fact that karma watches all.

Caroline Smailes (author of Like Bees to Honey – The Friday Project), Nik Perring (author of Not So Perfect – Roast Books), and illustrator Darren Craske (author of The Cornelius Quaint Chronicles – The Friday Project) have joined together to create a story collection like no other. Lavishly illustrated throughout, FREAKS is a collection of 50 (yep, 50) very short stories which explore ordinary characters who have been gifted with an extraordinary ability.

To be found within the pages FREAKS is a woman called ‘The Photocopier’ who can reproduce herself at will. There’s also a zombie hairdresser who’s able to reanimate herself every time she dies. Then there’s a man who is able to break into the dreams of his lover. And perhaps most disturbing of all, there’s a woman who wears My Little Pony pants who…nah I’ll let you discover this woman’s quirk for yourself .

Now, I don’t normally plug a book in this way on RobAroundBooks unless I’m in the midst of reviewing it (and I will be, in good time), but I have good reason to speak about FREAKS at this time. You see, the publisher has allowed me to feature one of the stories, and the illustration by Darren that accompanies it. It’s the story I’m told which perhaps best illustrates the flavour and tone of FREAKS, and although we don’t know whether it was Nik or Caroline who penned this particular story (they’ve chosen to keep the author of each story a secret), I do know that it’s a powerful and affecting one. Go ahead, read it for yourself (click on illustration to see an enlarged version of it):

Invisible 

[Super Power: The ability to make oneself unseen to the naked eye]

If I stay totally still,

if I stand right tall,

with me back against the school wall,

close to the science room’s window,

with me feet together,

pointing straight,

aiming forward,

if I make me hands into tight fists,

make me arms dead straight,

 if I push me arms into me sides,

if I squeeze me thighs,

stop me wee,

if me belly doesn’t shake,

if me boobs don’t wobble,

if I close me eyes tight,

so tight that it makes me whole face scrunch,

if I push me lips into me mouth,

if I make me teeth bite me lips together,

if I hardly breathe,

if I don’t say a word.

Then,

I’ll magic meself invisible,

and them lasses will leave me alone.

FREAKS is available to buy right now from all good bookshops. An electronic version of FREAKS is also available to buy. Check out the publisher’s website for further details.

Before I go I just want to reaffirm that I will be reviewing FREAKS myself, in good time. I know I probably sound way too positive about this one, even before I’ve read it, but I have good reason. You may remember I’ve featured Nik Perring on RobAroundBooks quite extensively in the past, in my still to be concluded (*blush*) Flash Clash challenge? I can vouch both for Nik’s ingenuity and his amazing ability to make the shortest of short story forms zing with life and meaning. Caroline Smailes I’ve never read, but I know she is setting the publishing world on fire right now with some very clever writing (her 99 Reasons Why novel, for instance). Darren Craske I don’t know at all, but he’s a comic book illustrator for God’s sake. How much more creative can a mind me? So my excitement for FREAKS may be premature, but hopefully you can see why.

With the winner of this year’s Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award being announced tomorrow (30th March), I thought I’d take a timely look at the six shortlisted stories, and pass on my thoughts with regards to who I think may take the top prize of £30,000.

There’s no denying that the shortlist for 2012 is, as in previous years, incredibly strong. All of the shortlisted stories have the potential to easily win on their own merit – which is exactly what they’ll have to do of course, in order to win – but before I go on to tentatively suggest which of the stories I think will triumph, let me introduce you to all six, while sharing my brief afterthoughts for each one:

Title: Beer Trip to Llandudno by Kevin Barry.
Briefly: A party of close-knit ale loving Liverpudlians hit Wales, in search of the perfect tipple.
Afterthoughts: Regulars readers of RobAroundBooks will know that I find it impossible to speak highly enough of this larger-than-life Irish writer. Barry’s short stories have never failed to amuse and entertain me thus far, and Beer Trip to Llandudno is no exception. It’s a story that exudes pace, energy, warmth, humour and friendship – much like any other story that comes from the pen of Barry – and it’s one that illustrates perfectly just how much of a pure entertainer Kevin Barry is. I defy anyone to read Beer Trip to Llandudno and not like it.

The train scooted along the fried coast. We made solid headway into the Marston’s. Mo was down a testicle since the spring. We’d called in at the Royal the night of his operation. We’d stopped at the Ship and Mitre on the way – they’d a handsome bitter from Clitheroe on guest tap. We needed the fortification: when Real Ale Club boys parade down hospital wards, we tend to draw worried glances from the whitecoats. We are shaped like those chaps in the warning illustrations on cardiac charts, We gathered around Mo and breathed a nice fog of bitter over the lad and we joshed him but gently.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

*****

Title: The Hunt by Emma Donoghue.
Briefly: It’s the time of the American War of Independence, and British troops are ravishing the New Jersey countryside in search of rebels, and their sympathisers. These troops are also ravishing local women, in an abhorrent pastime known as ‘The Hunt’. A fifteen-year-old soldier called ‘Half-Bosch’ is about to get an unforgettable first taste.

Afterthoughts: It’s clear that Donoghue has set out to shock with this story, and she does so which much prowess and power as one would expect from such a competent storyteller. The shock element is flecked throughout, but Donoghue really brings it home in the final paragraph, when the reader walks away reeling from that which is revealed.

What makes the story all the more chilling and affecting, is the fact that Donoghue got her inspiration for this one from real-life events which actually took place during the Revolutionary War. It’s enough to make the old spine tingle, and mine most certainly did.

What he tells Williams and Houghton and Byrne, when he finds them upstairs filling their packs with silver plate, is that he heard voices in the barn. Williams whacks him on the back so hard it hurts. “we’ve got ourselves a good little hunting dog,” he tells the others. “Bosch bloodhounds can’t be beat.”

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

*****

Title: Where the Gods Fly by Jean Kwok.
Briefly: Fearful that she may be losing touch with her, and that she may be losing all that is inherent in her culture, a Chinese mother takes the drastic step of removing her daughter from ballet school.
Afterthoughts: This is a deeply moving and intimate story about an immigrant mother who is faced with the dilemma of trying to raise a young daughter safely and securely in a foreign country, where strong influences can strip a person of their cultural identity. It’s a situation made all the more harrowing for the mother, not only because she exacerbates the problem in the first place by allowing her daughter to take up a scholarship in a ballet school as a short term solution to an immediate problem, but also because she (the mother) finds herself as time goes on, becoming more isolated and alone in this foreign land, as her daughter becomes more and more acculturated, and entrenched in her artistic studies.

Kwok tells this story beautifully. It’s deliciously literary and I’ve rarely read anything that’s as deeply compassionate.

Given that Kwok was an immigrant herself – she moved with her parents from Hong Kong to Brooklyn when she was five – one cannot help but think that there’s more of the author in this story than might be imagined. And this is a notion that’s further reinforced through the strength of warmth and intimacy that comes from Where the Gods Fly.

When I looked upon Pearl at the factory, idly playing with a few spools the seamstresses had laid aside, it was as if I saw her entire life pulled taut before her like a thread – her thin fingers worn callused and red by years of sewing in the factory, then, if she was lucky, marriage to some office clerk, a pack of children, and finally, Pearl the woman submerged under the struggle to feed and clothe them all. I constantly entertained hopes of Pearl’s escape from the factory – if only we could afford a tutor for her, I thought, or a babysitter.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

*****

Title: The Current by Tom Lee.
Briefly: Following recovery from a serious illness, a father begins to show a ‘second wind’ with regards to living his life. This brings about a change in relationship between the father and his two sons, and it’s a relationship that becomes even more profound when the father and one of the sons take off on an impulsive trip to visit the battlefields of northern France.
Afterthoughts: Apparently this story was drawn from the author’s own experiences, from a time when he too had a sick father who suddenly became well again. It’s clearly evident that Lee is drawing from within, because there’s an intimacy in this story that would be impossible to embed, were it not written from the heart.

I simply adored this story, not only because of the warm feeling it invokes when reading about the profound relationship between father and son, but also because of the extraordinary empathy that one feels for the father, as he doggedly attempts to stick to the obvious decision he’s made, to live every day to the full.

I felt this story on a deeper level, and I admire any writer who have the ability to invoke that kind of power into their stories.

A month after we picked him up from Dorset, perhaps with memories of that expedition still fresh in his mind, he called to suggest we take a trip to the First World War battlefields and cemeteries in northern France. His own father had fought at the Somme and the Battle of Amiens and in the past, before he had been ill, we had sometimes talked of exactly this, a kind of pilgrimage. He had already spoken to my brother who had pleaded work and family commitments, no doubt truthfully.

“Given your situation,” he said to me, “I imagine you are more flexible.”

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

*****

Title: El Aziz: Some Pages from His Notebooks by Robert Minhinnick.
Briefly: A series of notebook entries come together to tell a story of an immigrant living on the margins in the UK, where he is trying to make ends meet.
Afterthoughts: From the outset it’s clear that this story has been written by a poet. Robert Minhinnick’s prose is colourful and evocative, and it rings with poetic resonance. I also like the format for this story which is not only inventive, but it works too. Presented in the way that it is, one gets a real sense of how mundane and drab this person’s life is, with the snatches of notes standing as minor highlights in a less than eventful life.

I know this tale is from a larger collection of interlocking stories (The Keys of Babylon (Seren Books)), which explore the immigration experience. And as such I think this story is at its most potent in that collection. As powerful as this story is, it feels somewhat diluted when it is away from the others. Don’;t get me wrong, it remains an incredible story – it’s supremely well written – but some of its strength is lost when it stands on its own.

I used to sell the Big Issue near Woolworths. I used to tell the people who I was and that I had come here for a better life. Across the road, outside Streets nightclub, a woman older than my mother would play the accordion, its white teeth brown as nicotine. She knew only one tune. Then Woolworths closed. Then the nightclub closed. Some boys took her accordion and stepped on it. How it groaned in terror. I heard its protest and went to help. The boys were gone and I was glad. Those boys in their hoods, their trackwear, glancing at their screens.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

*****

Title: Nickel Mines Hardware by Linda Oatman High.
Briefly: Katie Zook is haunted by the memories of a school shooting, and a particular visitor who paid a visit to the hardware store she works in, during the minutes leading up to the shooting.
Afterthoughts: Told from a unique perspective, Oatman High’s dramatisation of a real event that tore the heart of an Amish community in 2006 in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, is chilling and sympathetic in equal measure.

Rather than sensationalise the school shooting by having her principal character ‘on scene’ as an eyewitness, Oatman High tells the story through the eyes of an eighteen-year-old teenager who was close to the scene working in an hardware store, but never actually in attendance at the shooting itself. This is a genius move by Oatman High because it not only allows her to show how the tendrils of such an incident quickly spreads out to affect everyone, but it also allows her to focus on the more peripheral but no less affecting detail, and on the fleeting retrospective moments that haunt people, and chill them inside when they stop to think about them.

As a journalist Oatman High covered the real story of what was dubbed the ‘Amish 9/11″, for a newspaper in the county in which the tragedy happened. It’s clear the whole incident affected her deeply (as one would expect), because she brings her emotions wholly into play in this unforgettable and quietening story.

There wasn’t much space between Katie and those girls. All that came between them was the milkman, a mile of road and sky, and not very many minutes. Katie saw those wild crazy set-for-slaughter eyes and not much later the girls saw them, too. Those eyes and those hands tied them together: the little girls and Katie Zook. Katies wished she could have stopped him, could have kept the milkman at the store somehow. If only she had known what was to come. If only she had known.

Flex ties, plastic, two bags. Eye bolts. Nails, tubes, clamps. These are the things he bought. These are the things Katie sold.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

*****

So we’ve arrived (finally) at the big question – which one of these six stories is going to emerge triumphant as this year’s Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award winner? Well, there is nothing in a technical sense to fault any of these stories. They’re all exemplary in a technical sense (as they are in an engaging sense), and so it’s down solely I think to the mood of the judges.

If they’re in a jovial mood then they will undoubtedly go for Kevin Barry, because his is the most humourous story of the bunch (it’s noted that Tom Lee’s story has its magical comical moments too).

Now, let’s have a bit of fun and speculate on a winner should the judges not be feeling so jovial:

Traditionally (I say ‘traditionally’ but the prize has only been running for two years ), the top prize has gone to ‘lesser knowns’, so based on this ridiculously irrelevant fact we will eliminate Emma Donoghue (even though Joanne Trollope will be rooting for her given her love for historical fiction) and, because he’s such a well known poet, Robert Minhinnick.

That leaves Lee, Kwok and Oatman High. The judging panel as a whole seem more literary than most I think, and although I can see judge, Ian Hart championing Tom Lee (I think he can see a part for himself in the role of the chief protagonist of this story – the son of the father), I can see Hart being outvoted by the others. It’s down to two then, a huge decision between Kwok and Oatman High. Certainly both stories are powerful and highly emotive, so this really is a tough one to call. However, given the strength and unresolved nature of the cultural tussle in Kwok’s story, I can just see her just snatching the prize over Oatman High.

So the winner of the 2012 Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award, if my outrageous method of elimination is anything to go by, is either going to be Kevin Barry or Jean Kwok (funnily enough that’s the two stories that I’ve rated the highest. A coincidence> I think not! ).

All hearsay and speculation I know, but we’ve not long to wait because the real winner is announced tomorrow. I wish all shortlisted authors the best of luck, and I thank you all for colouring my month of March with the most wonderful of stories. It’s cliched to say that you all deserve to win, but I truly believe it.

Over to you dear reader. Who do you think is going to take the top prize in this year’s Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award? Drop your comments below.

Oh and before I go, one more thing. If you’ve not done so already, you can still (I hope) pick up a copy of the 2012 Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award anthology at your local Waterstones branch (it appears not to be available any more online). I hope you manage to pick up a copy, because if you don’t then you’re missing out on something pretty special.

I apologise ahead of time for the length of this piece, but I feel that the effort needed to read it is well worth it. This is Maupassant writing himself about Flaubert’s literary principles, but it should be noted that there may be some of Maupassant’s own principles jumbled into the mix:

“If you have originality,” he [Flaubert] used to say, “the essential is to release it; if you haven’t you must acquire it.”

It is a matter of considering long and attentively what you want to express, so that you may discover an aspect of it that has never before been noticed or reported. There is a part of everything that remains unexplored, for we have fallen into the habit of remembering, whenever we use our eyes, what people before us have thought of the thing we are looking at. Even the slightest thing contains a little that is unknown. We must find it. To describe a blazing fire or a tree in a plain, we must remain before that fire or that tree until they no longer resemble for us any other tree or any other fire.

That is the way to be original.

After repeating over and over again this truth, that there are not in the entire world two grains of sand, two flies, two hands or two noses that are exactly the same, he made me describe, in a few sentences, a being or an object in such a way as to particularlise it clearly, to distinguish it from all the other beings or all the other objects of the same race or kind.

“When you pass a grocer sitting in his doorway,” he used to tell me, “or a concierge smoking his pipe, or a cab-stand, show me that grocer and that concierge, the way they are sitting or standing, their entire physical appearance, making it by the skilfulness of your portrayal embody all their moral nature as well, so that I cannot confuse them with any other grocer or any other concierge; and make me see, by means of a single word, wherein one cab-horse does not resemble the fifty others ahead of it or behind it.”

Whatever you want to say, there is only one word that will express it, one verb to make it move, one adjective to qualify it. You must seek that word, that verb, and that adjective, and never be satisfied with approximations, never resort to tricks, even clever ones, or to verbal pirouettes to escape the difficulty.

Spoken, like a true master I’m sure you’ll agree. If I discover any more ‘golden nuggets’ in Steegmuller’s biography of Maupassant, then I’ll be sure to pass them on.

What bibliophile could resist the lure of a bookshop where the weight of books inside is so much that the owner has to take to displaying his stock outside? This is Keith Fawkes bookshop, the subject for this week’s Bookshelf of the Week, and it has sat in a back street location in Hampstead London, for over 40 years.

This shot, as captured by John Keogh aka jovike, may not show the hustle and bustle of the interior of the Fawkes’ bookporium (this shot hints at it), but it speaks volumes in letting people know (in a simple yet effective way I think) that this is the kind of place that one has to rummage through in order to find anything.

And if further proof were needed that this particular bookshop is bursting at the seams with bookish booty, then this description from The Randomness Guide to London will surely suffice:

This place is one of those quintessential ramshackle shops, poky and dark as every available space is filled floor to ceiling with shelves threatening to crumble under the weight of all the collected tomes. More newly acquired books are in piles on the floor wherever there’s a space, and there’s some particularly large piles of art books. The many piles and very cramped spaces make it difficult to sometimes see what’s available.

Absolute bliss! I can think no finer place to wile away a cold and dreary Saturday afternoon. I’m sure you agree? Perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to spend a hour or two rooting around in Keith Fawkes bookshop, yourself. If you have then I’d love to hear from you. Comments below. Thank you.

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New Hart’s Rules: The Handbook of Style for Writers and Editors (Oxford University Press) — Although I consider myself to be very well educated (I have two degrees, one from University of St. Andrews), I’ll never be so arrogant as to think that I’ll never need to continually improve my writing. In fact, you’ve probably noticed that my writing could do with a heck of a lot of polishing up, especially with regards to grammar. And with one of my primary aims over the next 12 months being that I want to hone my writing craft to perfection (or as close as to possible to that), I’m currently focusing on stocking up the writer’s reference shelf in my library.

I have a number of good books on my writer’s reference shelf already, but shockingly I have very little in the way of grammar guidance or reference works particularly aimed at writers. And after asking around to find out which titles I should be looking out for, one of the ones that kept cropping up was New Hart’s Rules: The Handbook of Style for Writers and Editors (Oxford University Press). It seems that many consider this to be an essential for the serious writer, and if they think that then I do too. It’s rocketed to the top of my wishlist, together with a partner – the New Oxford Dictionary for Writers and Editors. I think these two together are going to be something of a killer combo. Well see, meantime if you have any further suggestions then I’d love to hear them.

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The Encyclopedia of New York City 2nd Ed., edited by Kenneth T Jackson (Yale University Press) — Well I guess everyone knows by now that I’m a huge fan of anything New York (I certainly go on about it enough ), and as a fan I have a rather extensive reference section of New York-related titles here at RobAround Manor. And one of my most favourite New york-flavoured titles in my library is undoubtedly Kenneth T. Jackson’s The Encyclopedia of New York (Yale University Press). This is undoubtedly my primary ‘go to book’, the first title I reach for whenever I need to find out about anything New York. It’s usually the only book I have to reach for too, because more and often than not the answer I need is sitting there waiting for me, in its tome-like pages. Imagine my delight then when I discovered that a second edition of The Encyclopedia of New York is coming out in November. With 800 new entries and a ton of updates to the previous one, this is the first revision of The Encyclopedia of New York, since it was originally published, 15 years ago. Am I excited? I don’t think I need to answer that!

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Writers and Their Notebooks, edited by Diana M. Raab (University of South Carolina Press) — You’ll know if you’ve seen me tussle with my own online reading journal, that I’m hugely passionate about keeping reading notes. Offline I use a Moleskine for more general note-taking, and a Midori Traveler’s Notebook for my more personal journal writing (and yes it did come all the way from Japan. There’s a pic of my one, HERE). My notebooks and journals are so valuable to me. They serve me in so many ways and on so many levels that I couldn’t imagine living without out them.

In fact I’m so fascinated by the whole concept of journal writing and notetaking, that I adore reading the notebooks and journals of others. Of course I’m not talking about snooping where one shouldn’t snoop here, but I’m happy to read those journals and notebooks which have been made public. That brings me nicely to the next title which has been added to my wishlist, Writers and Their Notebooks by Diana M. Raab.

Writers and Their Notebooks consists of a collection of essays written by professional writers, on the subject of notebooks and how they use them in their professional lives. Now, if ever there were a book that I could say was specifically written for me, then this would be it. This is absolutely, 100% my kind of thing, and I’m hugely excited about discovering this title. And if I wasn’t excited enough, than I can tell you that I almost had a heart attack when I found out that the foreword in this book is written by one of my favourite essayists, Philip Lopate. Do books get any more exciting than this? Absolutely not!

There is one slight downer to this book though – especially if you live in the UK – and that downer is PRICE. The exchange rate between US and UK has barely been taken into consideration and so the paperback edition comes in at £22.50, while the hardback edition is selling for a whopping £44.50. That’s a lot of dosh to lay down for a book that only just breaks 200 pages, and although I’m a little put off, I’ll still get around to picking a copy up. It’s just going to take a little longer than I would have hoped it would.

***

Best European Fiction 2011, edited by Aleksandar Hemon (Dalkey Archive) — Last but certainly not least in this edition of my ‘On The Radar’ series, is the upcoming 2011 edition of Dalkey Archive’s Best European Fiction anthology. You remember that I mentioned the 2010 edition of Best European Fiction in an ‘On The Radar’ post way back in August 2009. Well, despite always meaning to pick up a copy I never got to around to it, and now my good buddy Stu (blogger over at Winston’s Dad), has given me a ‘heads up’ on Twitter, letting me know that the 2011 edition is coming in November.

Edited once again by Bosnian writer Aleksandar Hemon, the 2011 edition of Best European Fiction, contains this year’s selection of European short fiction (short stories and extracts from longer works, in translation where required of course), which offer something of a snapshot as to what’s happening in the European literature scene right now. Essential reading for any fan of European literature I’d say, and I for one am certainly not going to procrastinate on this one again this year.

There’s not a lot of detail about the subject for this week’s Bookshelf of the Week – other than it was taken in Bratislava, by fiction writer Michal Hvorecky – but I don’t think it really needs any. With books flowing from wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling, and even spilling out to the next room, this picture definitely speaks for itself. And what does it say most of all? That the person who lives here (who I’m assuming to be Michal) REALLY loves books. I stand in awe!

Thanks for a great shot Michal

Edit: Michal, the taker of this shot and owner of the bookshelves, was kind enough to send me some details on his most wonderful library. Here’s what Michal had to say:

This is my collection of the fiction (70 percent) and non-fiction (the rest). The books are in Slovak, Czech, German and English languages. About half of them are from second hand bookstores. my real treasures are some signed copies by the writers such as William Gibson or Cormac McCarthy and Egon Bondy.

The bookshelves were build specially for this small apartment by the couple of excellent Slovak joiners, all is hand-made.

Many thanks for the extra information Michal. If I wasn’t envious before (and I was), then I am now – signed copies from Gibson and McCarthy? Ohh and have you got the phone number for those joiners? They are superb craftsmen.

It’s been a wee while since I’ve done a Cover Love post (my last one was the four-volume Ox-Tales collection from Profile Books), so what better way to bring it back than with a post celebrating eight of the titles I’m reading in my Totally Knut reading project. All published by small independent publisher Souvenir Press, the collection of eight all feature artwork from one of my favourite artists- Edvard Munch (perhaps most famous for his painting, ‘The Scream’).

I think everyone will agree that the Munch artwork really does do these covers justice. And while I’m slightly disappointed not to see exactly the same cover design carried across the entire range, the pleasure one gets from gazing upon the sublime artwork of Edvard Munch, every time one picks up one of these Souvenir Press volumes, is indescribable. What’s more the decision to use Munch’s artwork on the covers of these Hamsun novels is a stroke of genius. Because after all Edvard Munch was not only a fellow-Norwegian and contemporary of Knut Hamsun, but both men were prolific in their respective art too – a befitting tribute to both then, to pair them together.

So for the pleasure of those who may want to know more about the Munch artwork that’s been used for these covers, here’s a rundown on artwork that’s been used for each of the books, with a link to an original example:

• Mysteries (1892) – ‘Snow Falling in the Lane’, 1906.
• Victoria (1898) – ‘Moonlight’, 1895.
• Tales of Love and Loss (1890s) – ‘Despair (Fortvilelse)‘, 1892.
• Dreamers (1904) – ‘Two Human Beings. The Lonely Ones‘, 1899.
• The Growth of the Soil (1917) – ‘Winter, Kragero‘, 1912.
• The Wanderer (1906/1909) – ‘The Wave’, 1921
• The Women at the Pump (1920) – ‘Red Virginia Creeper‘, 1898-1900.
• Wayfarers (1927) – ‘Train Smoke‘, 1900

1. Lose the TV. At number two in Michael’s list of reading rules is cutting out the TV, and I wholeheartedly agree with him on this one; so much so that cutting out TV time is the absolute #1 on my own list. As we all know TV is an accomplished leecher of time, even though 99% of the stuff offered up is pointless and of little value. So if it’s reading time you’re looking for, and the TV is still a biggie in your life, then the biggest favour you could do yourself is to push the TV power button to off. You’ll be amazed at how much reading time magically becomes available without the draw of the goggle box. And if you still need something in the background in the way of noise, then go and buy a nice DAB radio, or tune into any one of a gazillion free radio channels on the Internet. I went for the former, and I haven’t looked back since.

2. Find your favourite reading place and use it as often as possible. Everyone has a favourite place for reading right, where they feel most at ease and completely receptive to the written word? My ‘place’ is usually in the bath or at the library, but I’ve also got a favourite place in the woods where I can wile away an hour or two, and get some serious, undisturbed reading done. So if you don’t have a favourite place then now may be a good time to go find one, and retreat to it whenever you can and as often as you can. Trust me you’ll find yourself flying through the pages at a rate of knots.

3. Find the most appropriate place/time for reading certain things and exploit it. I find that certain types of reading fit in better at particular times and/or places. Short stories over breakfast, where the reading is quick and the session contained. Flash fiction on the loo (perhaps that should that be flush fiction, eh folks? ), where the reading is even quicker. Thoughtful or difficult reading in the bath, in the evening, where it’s quiet and distraction-free (unless my rubber ducky’s there ). It makes a huge difference fitting particular reading into a particular time/location. Try it and I’m sure you’ll see I’m right.

4. Plan ahead. I tend to get a lot more reading done if I plan it ahead of time. I know planning for reading isn’t for everyone because some people prefer to ‘go with the flow’, but for me, planning ahead is an absolute must, and not just because I’m a book reviewer.

I mentioned in #2 that I read short stories over breakfast. Now I don’t know about you but first thing in the morning I’m a complete zombie (I’m a zombie most of the time but later in the day I’m more of an awake zombie), and decision-making isn’t high on my list of early morning abilities. So I plan the night before what I’m going to be reading the next morning, and I even go as far as to put the chosen reading on the breakfast table the night before too. Then, bleary-eyed and stumbling, I can plonk myself in front of my cornflake’s bowl in the morning, and all I have to do is reach for the book and start reading.

It’s not just breakfast reading I plan out though. I tend to think ahead all of the time, fitting in my reading as best I can. It’s a ‘rule that fits in really well with the previous rule #4, and it also fits in really well with the following rule too.

5. Harness every opportunity. How often do you find yourself hanging around waiting for something or someone, with nothing to do but clock watch? Waiting for a train. Standing in a queue. Sitting in a restaurant waiting for your hot date Sandra Bullock to turn up (I can dream. Just don’t tell Mrs. Rob ). Everyone one of these situations and more, offers an opportunity to fit in a bit of quality reading time (plus it makes you look pretty cool and composed when Ms. Bullock finally arrives, and you can look up at her nonchalantly ). This harnessing of every opportunity is where my Sony Reader has actually revolutionised things for me. The reader is so light and unobtrusive that I always have it with me, and as a consequence it’s helped me to fit in loads of reading. Big queue in the post office? No problem. Out comes the Sony! Train’s been delayed for 20 minutes? Hey, it happens! Out comes the Sony! ‘Mind if we pop into H&M for a look around the clothes Dad?’ ‘No worries, I’ll wait outside.’ Out comes the Sony! Every…opportunity…harnessed, and all thanks to the ereader.

Do you know another great opportunity, provided you don’t suffer from motion sickness? It’s a little activity I like to call ‘walk reading’, which, as the name suggests, is reading while you’re walking (pretty cryptic eh? ). Sure it may look a bit goofy walking down the street with your face in a book (or better still, an ereader because the pages don’t flap about), and there may be a bit of a knack to doing it right without causing injury to yourself or others, but if you do a lot of getting from A to B on foot (or you have a walk-obsessed Labrador like me), then there’s a load of reading opportunity to be gained from engaging in the art of ‘walk reading’.

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So there we have it folks. A quick run through on my own five rules for reading. These may not be as good as Mr. Bhaskar’s (I particularly like his #1), but these are all ‘rules’ which have helped me greatly to increase my own personal reading time. Hopefully one or two of these will be of help to you too. So what about you guys? I’m sure each and every one of you beautiful minds have your own rules for gaining a bit more reading time. And I’m also sure they’re a lot better than mine. So feel free to share them. I’d love to hear if there’s anything else I can do to squeeze out a few more hours in the week, to devote to my most precious of pastimes.

My thanks again to Michael Bhaskar, both for sharing his great ideas and for giving the inspiration for this post.

Disclaimer: Rob takes no responsible for any injuries that may be sustained while engaged in the act of ‘walk reading’. Whilst walk reading the walk reader must take extreme care not to bump into the following – people, prams, small children, dogs, other walk readers, lamp posts, bins (especially important on bin collection day), cars, trees, buildings and any other infinite number of objects.

Picture Credit: The copyright for the image used in this post belongs to Ruben Bos. It has been released under Creative Commons agreement, which allows for the image to be changed and adapted for non-commercial use.

No stranger to RobAroundBooks, I actually reviewed (and enjoyed) War on the Margins back in November 2008 when it was still a self-published work. Eight months later and courtesy of Duckworth, War on the Margins enjoys its release as a fully fledged publisher-backed novel, and I couldn’t be happier.

As much as I like War on the Margins though, it would be a bit pointless for me to completely review it again. I will say briefly having seen it, that the new Duckworth edition is a marked improvement on the original. On an aesthetic level the cover is much more appealing, but more importantly for me a problem I had with the original has been fixed. My gripe centred around the fact that the historical documents and communiques were presented verbatim in the main body of the story. I felt that their length to some extent interrupted the flow of the story, and at times everything just seemed to mingle in. Duckworth have fixed this ‘problem’ simply and elegantly – they’ve used a different typeface for the official documents. Problem solved, and although the documents are still presented in the body of the narrative as before (which makes sense because they are an inherent part of the story), they don’t seem to interrupt to the same extent as they used to.

So going back to what I could do to mark the Duckworth release of War on the Margins, and I came up with the idea of interviewing the novel’s author. I put it to her a few weeks ago and Libby kindly agreed to it. So today I get the delightful opportunity of presenting to you the writer behind War on the Margins. Sit back and enjoy a virtual sit down with Libby Cone:

Rob: War on the Margins began life as your thesis project at university before being adapted into a novel. I understand it was your advisor Professor Davis who gave you the words of encouragement to take things further. What was it about your original thesis that impressed him so much?

Libby: Well, first of all, he was the one who warmed to my idea of writing my thesis as a work of historical fiction. I think he liked the writing I had done for smaller assignments, and he was probably not looking forward to going through yet another long and depressing nonfiction thesis about the Holocaust. I was probably going to write a pretty straightforward nonfiction treatment; I had not thought about doing it in terms of gender or any other interesting angle, because the facts were interesting enough.

Rob: Now that War on the Margins has been published, I assume Professor Davis is delighted?

Libby: Oh, yes, he is! I keep him posted. I’m extremely grateful to him.

Rob: War on the Margins is of course based largely on the real-life diaries of artists Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. How did you discover these diaries, and what was it about them that made you want to use them so extensively in your work?

Libby: I had not heard of Cahun and Moore before starting the project. They were given brief mentions in some of the sources I consulted. Jewish Lesbian Surrealist artists in the Resistance? If I had invented them, I would have been accused of exaggeration! I was able to get their letters and other materials from the Jersey Heritage Archive; much of the material is available online. Their story speaks to the hidden power of art and the gifts we receive from those considered marginal by the dominant culture.

Rob: Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore both feature in War on the Margins of course. But there are other characters in the novel who come across as just as well rounded i.e. Marlene, Peter, Mrs. Richardson to name but three. Are any of these characters based on real people?

Libby: Peter is based on the many unfortunates captured all over Europe and brought to the Islands to do slave labour for the Germans. I felt it very important to develop his character. So many of the enslaved prisoners died on the Islands, and most were never given a decent burial. When I visited the underground tunnels in Jersey that they built, I kept looking at the trowel marks in the concrete and thinking, “the hand of a slave made this, and he probably died here.”

Mrs. Richardson was a real person. The local authorities actually were alerted to capture her and turn her in for failing to register as a Jew.

Marlene is a fictional character; I just needed to add one more character to the list to propel the story along and to develop the theme of marginality. Most of the characters were real people; Marlene, Peter, Mary Drummond, and Pauline Barrett are composites. People really did try to intercept mail from would-be informants. People really were sent to Ravensbrück and killed for hiding escaped slave labourers. There really was a woman, the lover of a German deserter, who barely escaped execution.

Rob: You acknowledge that you had a lot of help from the Jersey Heritage Trust. I presume they are in full support of your fictional account of the Channel Islands Occupation?

Libby: I don’t know if they ‘support’ it or not; it’s just their job to curate and distribute the archived materials. They have been wonderful in answering my requests for documents.

Rob: Aside from the artist’s diaries, there are a lot of original wartime documents reproduced in War on the Margins. Did many of these come directly from the Jersey Heritage Fund or did you source them elsewhere?

Libby: The documents came from the archive. The BBC and German Overseas Radio broadcasts I described were from various sources who collect the broadcasts on CD’s. I also used three diaries written by people stuck on Jersey during the Occupation, Nan Le Ruez, Leslie Sinel, and Dr. John Lewis. I tried to cross-check everything that wasn’t a primary source. I could have written about more people, but I couldn’t corroborate their stories. Fortunately, I didn’t have to write the thesis with footnotes, but I could have.

Rob: Before Duckworth took up the rights for War on the Margins, the novel was self-published. As most writers know, it’s notoriously difficult getting most bloggers to even glance at a self-published novel, yet you credit your success at getting picked up by Duckworth as a result of you having ‘aggressively marketing War on the Margins on US and European blogs’. So how aggressive did you have to get Libby?

Libby: After coming across an article in the Observer by Jay Rayner about the ascendancy of bloggers in our culture, I took note of the literary blogger he mentioned. I emailed her and every other blogger listed on her site, asking if they ever reviewed independently-published (it sounds better than ‘self-published’) books. I did not get the impression that most bloggers won’t look at indie stuff. About half of them responded, and maybe two-thirds of those reviewed it. I kept looking for more bloggers, both in the US and the UK. I’m a very stubborn person, and when I get an idea, I don’t let it go. But I’m not obnoxious about it. Not everybody wants to read or review your book, not everybody likes it, etc. You have to accept that.

Rob: As well as a writer Libby, you’re also a full-time radiologist. How do you possibly manage to fit both of these time-consuming vocations into your life?

Libby: I’m actually part-time now. My last full-time job ended when our practice broke up after only a year. I was not up for preparing to ascend yet another ladder to partnership, so I wound up doing locum tenens. It helps that my husband and I don’t have kids, we don’t have a television, and we don’t hold impossibly high standards for housekeeping!

Rob: Finally Libby, I’ve heard it on the grapevine that your next book is about a blind kid growing up in colonial Delaware. What can you tell us about that?

Libby: I don’t remember where I got the idea! I surf the Web quite a lot, and somehow I found out about a short-lived Mennonite colony in Delaware whose founder died when the second Anglo-Dutch war came to the mid-Atlantic region of North America and towns like Niew Amsterdam and Niew Amstel became New York and Newcastle. His blind son wound up in an area of Philadelphia known as Germantown at the end of the seventeenth century. I’m interested in identity and its fluidity. In occupied Jersey, Jewish citizens were re-classified as aliens. In the Colonies, people who had always considered themselves Dutch suddenly became British. It’s fascinating.

Libby, on behalf of everyone at RobAroundBooks I thank you wholeheartedly for your time, and I wish you every conceivably success with War on the Margins.

So remember folks War on the Margins is released this week by Duckworth (details below) and is available (no doubt) in all good bookstores.

Duckworth Publishers | July 2009 | £12.99 | HARDBACK | 256 PP | ISBN 9780715638767