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Posts tagged ‘depression’

ACCENT PRESS – THE DEEPEST CUT BY NATALIE FLYNN

Time for book review number 6 for my 52 Books by 52 Publishers reading challenge. Today’s publisher is…

 

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Accent Press!

Accent Press is a feisty, independent publishing company.

 Founded by Hazel Cushion in 2003, Accent Press is an award-winning independent publisher which has become a major name for dynamic trade publishing. The company publishes a range of fiction and non-fiction titles across four imprints.  Accent Press was named Specialist Publisher of the Year and was shortlisted for Independent Publisher of the Year at the IPG Awards.  

The company is divided into four imprints:

  • Accent Press – The mainstream publishing imprint provides a wide range of fiction and non-fiction titles.
  • Xcite Books – This erotic imprint was started in 2007, becoming the UK’s largest erotic publisher and winning multiple ETO Awards.
  • Cariad – mainstream romance publishing sexy, contemporary women’s fiction.
  • Accent YA – There’s a new YA publisher in town. This exciting new list aimed at young adults launches in Spring 2016.

Find out more about accent press here.

 

And the book I’m reviewing is…

 

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‘You haven’t said a single word since you’ve been here. Is it on purpose?’ I tried to answer David but I couldn’t … my brain wanted to speak but my throat wouldn’t cooperate…

Adam blames himself for his best friend’s death. After attempting suicide, he is put in the care of a local mental health facility. There, too traumatized to speak, he begins to write notebooks detailing the events leading up to Jake’s murder, trying to understand who is really responsible and cope with how needless it was as a petty argument spiralled out of control and peer pressure took hold.

Sad but unsentimental, this is a moving story of friendship and the aftermath of its destruction.

I’ve been so lucky so far in that I’ve really loved every book I’ve read so far this year for my reading challenge. All but two of them have been independent publishers. What does that tell you? Yep, that indies pack a punch and are producing some of the best literature we have out there today.

The Deepest Cut is a young adult novel. No matter how old you are, I really think it’s enriching to read young adult novels. They really are something special, and with the huge popularity it has enjoyed over the last few years, it’s only getting better.

This book is sad, yes, and it made me bawl my eyes out on more than one occasion. It’s about a boy who lost his best friend to knife crime, after all. But it’s not just about the sadness. It’s about deep, undying male platonic love. It’s about the strength of friendship and about how no human being is infallible. It’s about grief and support and mental illness, specifically Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s about peer pressure and the fragility of teenager friendships. It’s about confusion and not really knowing who you are as a kid. It’s about craving acceptance and yearning for what once was. It’s about the difficulties of dealing with change.

What I especially love is that Natalie Flynn has managed to capture the voice of a teenage boy, a troubled teenage boy, so accurately and convincingly. I was a teenager only ten years ago, and I remember having some of the same worries and thoughts and feelings that the kids do in this book, and so it felt really authentic. Equally, his mental anguish felt very authentic too. It was particularly effective because for much of the narrative the focus is on simple teenager issues, and is then contrasted with very unusual ones, which deals an emotional blow.

The sheer contrast between the Adam before Jake’s murder and the Adam after his murder makes for quite heartbreaking reading. He just suddenly cares about nothing, except Jake. Life doesn’t matter to him anymore. He’s angry and resentful at his father for not caring about him and betraying him. He’s upset and terrified of people finding out how and why he’s complicit in Jake’s murder. He’s angry at people for not understanding him. And he’s angry at everyone who won’t just let him end his own life.

The story of Jake’s murder is told over a series of diary entries which Adam is writing for his psychotherapist to read in the mental hospital. These are interspersed with current-day narratives about Adam’s life in the present, post-murder and post- Adam’s mental breakdown. This kept me absolutely hooked as a reader, desperate to know who murdered Jake and why.

The most effective aspect of Flynn’s writing, for me, was how she brought Adam and Jake’s friendship to life. Their love for each other just radiates off the page. It makes the whole tragedy even more powerful to read about. It’s very good writing.

I think it would be especially important for teenagers to read this book as it highlights, very dramatically and colourfully, how important seemingly unimportant things are, at that age. It demonstrates the danger that can befall absolutely anyone. And it emphasises the seriousness of fighting and knife crime, which is often underestimated by young teens who sometimes feel invincible.

This book is a fantastic read for people of any age. Definitely one for your shelf. Well done Natalie Flynn and Accent press. I’ll be returning for more!

 

five stars

 

 

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Little Girl Gone by Alexandra Burt

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I’ve been hearing a lot of people saying they’re tired of hearing about books with ‘girl’ and ‘gone’ in the title – but ignore them. This book is powerful and breathtaking and you’d be missing out on something very special if you didn’t pick it up due to its title!

A baby goes missing. But does her mother want her back?

When Estelle’s baby daughter is taken from her cot, she doesn’t report her missing. Days later, Estelle is found in a wrecked car, with a wound to her head and no memory.

Estelle knows she holds the key to what happened that night – but what she doesn’t know is whether she was responsible…

Little Girl Gone is another one of those books where I completely forgot to make my usual notes as I go along because I was just far, far too engrossed in the plot line and the story. It is a harrowing tale of a woman who suffers badly with post-partum depression and it sends her spiralling into a pit of despair and desperation. Somebody has taken her baby, quite possibly murdered or hurt her, and even Estelle knows that there is a distinct likelihood that she has done it.

Waking up from a horrific car accident and finding out that her baby has gone missing, Estelle doesn’t remember a single thing about the whole episode. All she knows is that there is no sign of Mia anywhere and very few clues as to what might have happened. As a result, she is admitted into a psychiatric ward and must probe into the depths of her psyche, with the help of her counsellor Dr Ari, to figure out what happened and if she is responsible for her baby’s disappearance, or whether there is someone else involved.

Delving deeper into the labyrinth of Estelle’s mind is an emotional roller coaster and just endlessly fascinating and intriguing. This book encapsulates perfectly just how complicated and mysterious and fragile the human mind can be, especially when that person is going through depression or an incredibly difficult time. It explores the different psychological mechanisms and afflictions that are associated with trauma and actually teaches the reader a lot about the human condition.

I’ve known and heard about people who have had such massive traumas in their lives that their minds have just completely wiped their memories of them in order to cope. But what this book does is show us how and why that process happens. In the book, we have no idea what to believe and whether or not to trust Estelle’s version of events. She can’t even trust herself.

My heart bled for Estelle with every syllable of this book that I read. She hasn’t got a clue what is up or down any more. She feels like she wants to hurt her baby, but we know that it is just the depression getting to her and she’s aware that these thoughts are horrifying and wrong. She can’t trust anybody around her and she can’t trust herself. The author has done an amazing job on conveying what it is like inside her head: you can almost feel the despair weighing on your own shoulders and wrapping itself around your heart as you read through the book.

Estelle’s husband Jack is a difficult man to weigh up: he most definitely has his faults in that he can be controlling and condescending, and throughout the book he does often come across as a real jerk. But I did also feel a strong degree of sympathy for him. Though he handles it utterly appallingly, he does also suffer when Estelle’s depression hits and, having dealt with family depression in the past, I know only too well how upsetting it is. It is not always within the family member’s power to get everything right: they are suffering too. For that reason, I did understand Jack more than I really wanted to. After all, it is also his baby daughter that has gone missing and his instinctive inclination to blame Estelle can’t be entirely blamed.

I won’t give away what actually happens to Mia, but my god, the story is just mind-blowing. I was on the edge of my seat throughout the whole thing. There are few books where I have wanted to skip to the ending as much, although I did restrain myself.

You will adore this book, especially if you are a mystery or crime fiction fan. Little Girl Gone is action-packed, tense, and leaves an impression on you long after you finish reading. It is a stunning book.

Nutters by P.J. Davy

This was one of the books I bought from the Book Sale at the Hull Central Library. I got it at a bargain at £1 – especially since I later found it for sale at W.H Smith at around £8. Definitely couldn’t grumble at that!

I do love finding and reading books by independent publishers. They prove to me time and time again that the indies can publish just as well as the Big Five and bigger companies.

So, today’s review is about this book:

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Nutters by P.J. Davy is published by Snowbooks.

Mental illness is extremely topical – now more than ever, as society tries to find more effective ways to increase awareness and understanding for those who suffer. It’s for this reason that this book caught my eye. It looked to address an important subject but in a light-hearted and comical matter, which made it more appealing. Not to say that I’m not open to reading more serious books on the matter, but that was part of why I was interested in buying the book.

Rufus Waters has had enough of being labelled a loon. Enough of medication and therapy. Enough of the pitying looks and nervous changes of subject. Enough of being stood up and turned down. Enough, in short, of being a nutter.

‘I choose sanity,’ he informs his erstwhile girlfriend, bi-polar Kate. Rufus shrugs off Kate’s misgivings and forges ahead with his plans for the New Improved Rufus Waters. He bins his medication, sacks his glamorous psychiatrist, and quickly acquires both job and new girlfriend in a matter of days.

This promising start is, however, a false dawn. Soon his re-invented self, in his freshly-picked sane world, is falling apart and it takes the wisdom of a drug-addled Latin professor to bring some sense into his world once more.

The strongest attribute of this novel is its wonderful array of interesting and flawed characters. Because, let’s face it, they’re what keep life interesting. Rufus, the main character, is from a middle-class, well-off family, and is a brilliant representation of how mental illness can befall anyone in any circumstance, not just those who come from disadvantaged backgrounds. When he first meets his future girlfriend Kate, a girl who comes from a more modest working-class family, he has to fight hard against her stereotypes. They meet at a support group and she gives him a hard time for being there.

‘Depression my arse. What have you ever had to be depressed about? He’s had everything, all his life. Posh school, posh house, shed loads of money. Skiing every year, shouldn’t bloody wonder. Doesn’t even have to get a job.’

Rufus found his voice. ‘Excuse me for not coming from a sink estate and being the product of a lesbian mother and an alcoholic father,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’d prefer that.’

‘It’d make more bloody sense.’

Rufus raised his eyebrows with some effort. ‘Well, well, who’d have thought it. Nutters can be bigots too…I thought, and this is must prove how mad I am, that a person who knew what it was like to be a nutter from personal experience might possibly have the teeniest bit of insight into what it was like for someone else. But no, how wrong I was. Everywhere I go it’s the same. Priveleged plus posh, plus depressed, equals whingeing failure. Dragged up in a high rise by parents with a combined IQ of room temperature, plus packs of feral children to play with, plus any fucking psychosis you like, equals poor unfortunate deserving of our sympathy. Now I know what they mean by the NHS being a postcode lottery.’

This works so effectively at demonstrating the attitude of many people today. This scene is a microcosm of what happens in society, and what genuinely needs to stop if people are to get the help they need.

Rufus’ friend Teach is another example of this. Once a well-respected and top professor in his field, with a good reputation and strong intellect, Teach has succumbed to the pressures of society and spiralled into pit a of hopelessness, homelessness, drug abuse and depression. Despite this, he continues to talk, and think, like the professor he once was. He talks with an intellectual flair and formality, but his subject matter is far removed, and he often quotes Latin and poetry incorrectly, as though he’s a slightly broken and off-kilter version of his former self. This makes him even more charming and loveable. The contrast between his filthy appearance and his speech is very funny yet very sad all at the same time.

‘In point of fact, I have indeed been aboard that conveyance of the sober and the clean. Naturally, I see the benefits of a brief period of abstaining from recreational drugs and alcohol. I stand before you evidence of the efficacy of that system. However, I am with Monsieur Descartes on this one. Cogito ergo sum – which loosely translates as “I drink, therefore I am.”‘

P.J Davy balances the humour in the book with a stark and sobering depiction of the realities of mental illness. In this way, the author doesn’t cheapen or trivialise the subject matter. Counterbalancing the kind of humour that features in the above quotation, comes brilliantly written passages such as this:

He turned to lean over the rail, the flaking paint on the rusting ironwork gritty beneath his palms. He gazed down at the angry water below. Deep, fast, deadly water. His hands tightened on the rail, his grip whitening his knuckles, his jaw set, his breath held. Then, suddenly, the fight went out of him. As if a switch had been thrown. A plug pulled. He felt such a draining of energy, such a lack of power that his legs could barely support him. He staggered back off the bridge as if under a weight so tremendous it might press him into the ground. He might lie there, suffocating beneath it, too spent, too flimsy, too insubstantial to move.

The writing is therefore honest but makes mental illness more accessible, which is definitely no mean feat.

The third protagonist in the novel, Rufus’ ex-girlfriend Kate, suffers with bi-polar disorder. She has a beautiful singing voice and such a strong passion for the choir in which she performs. When she isn’t feeling low, her zest and energy and enthusiasm for life shines through. The real tragedy with Kate is that often her medication dulls this, and often affects her performance in the choir. She finds herself in a constant battle between staving off the depression which compromises her classical music career and embracing her talents while risking real mental decline.

What is wonderful about Kate is that despite her inner demons, she always remains loyal to her friends and is never afraid to give her opinions to them straight. She wants what’s best for them and often she recognises that this involves tough love and hard truths. But ultimately it comes from love and wishing to the right thing. She understands the limitations that people like her and Rufus face.

The only thing I will say that I wasn’t too impressed with in the case of Kate’s character was the overuse of the word ‘chuffing.’ Kate is originally from Pontefract and so uses this expression a fair bit. Now I live just outside of Pontefract and so have probably come across this expression before. But in this book, whenever Kate is prominent in a particular chapter, the word ‘chuffing’ features up to and probably sometimes more than four times per page. I know different dialects feature different words but I’m just not convinced that, no matter where you’re from, anyone actually uses a regional word so often. It’s almost constant. It even appears mid-way through a particularly energetic sex scene. By the end of it I think I developed a physical tick whenever I read the word. If I never read or hear that word again, I’ll be a very happy woman!

Rufus, Kate and Teach are examples of how many people with mental illness struggle and fight the often doomed battle against their demons by themselves. The stigma attached to their problems and issues puts pressure on them to deal with things alone and ‘pull themselves together’. Kate faces discrimination and bullying at the hands of her peers who see her as a nutter and crazy rather than simply a talented girl who struggles with bi-polar disorder. Rufus faces adversity even from his own mother, who fails to understand his issues and sees him as a failure. Teach’s character, among many others in the book, provides the reader with an insight into what can derail a person’s life, often through no fault of their own.

This book is an entertaining eye-opener and an enjoyable read. The book industry needs more of this kind of book. Thank you to independent publisher Snowbooks and P.J Davy for tackling such a subject so bravely and successfully.

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