Tag: writers

Posted in bloggers, family, Parenting, women

Blabbaholic and Baby

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

For the first time in my life I finally had a productive Valentine’s Day this year; not in the romantic sense unfortunately but at least its the first year since hitting puberty that I’ve not been sat at home moaning about the state of my love life.

No, this year I agreed to babysit one of my closest friend’s beautiful baby boy so that she can take her mum to Cirque de Soleil. Let me tell you, I was terrified as hell. When she asked if anyone was available, I agreed without hesitation AND without giving full thought to what I was actually agreeing to do.

Now its not like babies hate me. I’m not as bad as others who make babies cry if they so much as stand within 3 feet of them. I get on well with babies and I’m a nurse for crying out loud, I’ve spent numerous shifts earlier in my career in the neonatal and paeds unit (not voluntarily, always because I had no choice but hey, I did it). Its just that no one has ever shown so much faith and trust in my ability to care for another individual before.

Fortunately, my friend Cat also agreed to be my partner in crime for the night so I at least had back-up. And it turned out alright – he was the most behaved baby boy in the world – but I have to say I now have so much more respect for mothers the world over and my own mum. These people should be sainted, given awards, lauded, recognised for their silent contribution to humanity for more than just that one day a year.

Anyway, I just wanted to share some of the few things I learned while babysitting.

Babies are heavy.

I don’t know why I’m just realising this now when part of our responsibilities as nurses in the delivery room is to weigh the cute tiny humans. They weigh something like 8-10 lbs when they’re born and they become exponentially heavier as the months pass. And when they cry, carrying and rocking them is just about the only thing that will calm them down – apart from feeding them of course. I truly felt like I had a workout the day after.

I can change diapers like a champ.

This totally surprised me. I was amazed at myself. I changed the baby’s nappies for a grand total time of 5 minutes and I only had to take a second to figure out which way was up. And really, I don’t know how or why but babies just don’t smell. Even when they should. Babies have world-class pheromones.

I can feed myself but apparently not babies

I had a moment of panic an hour into babysitting duties. My friend was running late and I had to take care of Caleb on my own for the first hour or so. I was feeling so smug because I got him to sleep and I was just sitting there chilling and watching The Night We Met on Netflix (predictable but fun, no need for brain cells – perfect for babysitting night lol). And then inevitably the baby becomes hungry and I had to feed him with the expressed breastmilk his mum so helpfully prepared before she left.

And he wouldn’t suck.

I couldn’t believe it. I must be the only person in the world who can’t feed a baby. I tried everything, every position I knew, but he just wouldn’t take the milk. He was crying and I wanted to cry because I was feeling like such an idiot. I knew instinctively that he was hungry but I didn’t know how to get him to take the milk. Thankfully, my friend Cat arrived just in time. I buzzed her in and handed the baby over in record time and she had him drinking in minutes. Clap, clap, clap, CLAP.

It takes a village.

On the heels of the feeding incident I now realise how difficult it must be to do that on your own, raising kids I mean. We only babysat for three hours but Cat and I knew that we couldn’t have done it without the other. Forget about the fact that we needed to take turns carrying and feeding the baby so that the other can have dinner or a bit of a rest, I think that goes without saying. But no, I think its just the comfort that comes with knowing that there’s another person in the room, another pair of eyes, someone else to help you make the important decisions; it’s a big comfort to simply know you’re not alone.

I now understand why couples with babies will think carefully about where they want to settle; some will probably move closer to home because you really need that support system. If I’m ever blessed with a child, I’ll also be adopting my mum who is a champ at all things babies. I now have so much more respect for single mothers – they truly are unsung heroes. Kudos to you guys.

Babies will make you realise your capacity to care for another individual

I don’t know if it was just because it was V-day and I was feeling more maudlin than usual, but caring for Caleb that night genuinely made me feel like there was nothing I wouldn’t do for this baby. And whenever he smiled because I was putting Aveeno cream on his cute little face, I felt like I hung the moon on the sky. I guess that’s why I always think that having a baby is a big decision and you have to be sure you’re ready and you’re at the right state of mind for it. Because having one means losing your right (and desire) to only think about yourself. There’s lots of challenges, lots of sacrifices, but the rewards must be amazing.

Anyway, it was an awesome night. Thanks Katie for trusting me with your beautiful baby boy. As I said, I’m available for babysitting duties anytime. And I promise to get better at the feeding thing.

Now I’m going to call my mum and tell her how much I love her.

Posted in Books, Feminism, Reviews, Women's literature

Book Review: The Natural Way of Things – Charlotte Wood

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Last year, Hollywood was rocked by a continous stream of scandals that saw well-known actors and producers accused of everything from harassment to molestation and even outright rape.

Suddenly women in show business were either speaking up about their own experience at the hands of these predators-masquearing-as-gentlemen or calling out their male counterparts whenever they felt like women weren’t being given fair and equal treatment.

All of a sudden there were a lot of hashtag “me too’s” going around all social media platforms, finally culminating in Oprah Winfrey’s powerful and rousing speech during this year’s Golden Globe ceremony.

I always think of myself as a baby feminist. Certainly I appreciate all the comforts of being a woman in the progressive 21st century; I don’t think I could have borne being a Stepford Wife wannabe. I do not have it in me to sit at home, do household chores and have dinner waiting for my husband when he comes home from doing a full day’s work. I think we’ve already established that I do not subscribe to the school of thought that your worth as a woman is somehow diminished because you’re neither a wife or a mother. I firmly believe in ever woman’s right to make her own choices and that being an attractive woman doesn’t give any man the right to assume she welcomes unwanted attentions. 

So yeah, in that sense, I am all for feminism. So when I saw this book by Charlotte Wood on the counter of my local Waterstones with a glowing review saying that this book was the height of feminist literature (high praise!), I could not help but be intrigued. The blurb seemed eerily similar to The Handmaid’s Tale.

Ten women suddenly find themselves imprisoned in the middle of nowhere with no phones, no modern conveniences and no clue why or how they got there; the guards have shaved their heads, have had them changed into the most unbecoming and uncomfortable clothes and basically have them living in the worst conditions possible.

All the while they are being subjected to hard, manual labour and constant abuse from the guards and the one “nurse”. They eventually figured out that all of them have been involved in some kind of sex scandal with a powerful man and that that was probably the reason why they’ve been taken from their homes and family into, well, hell on earth really.

I didn’t realise when I picked this up that this had been written by an Australian author and that it was set in Australia. There were a lot of words, slangs and descriptions of wildlife that I’ve had to ask some of my Aussie friends to translate just to make sure I did not miss any context. But apart from that minor hitch in my reading, I went into this with full speed ahead because I was just so darned intrigued.

There’s a reason why we have a lot of books with this subject matter: simply put, sex and infidelity sells. Since the beginning of time, people have loved to read about lurid scandals and the consequences that befall those who dare to give in to their sexual desires, propriety be damned. Initially I was a little confused as to how this is a feminist novel because I really felt like there was a whole lot of slut-shaming going on. Those women were being judged simply because they made the mistake of sleeping with men who were either married, extremely powerful or in the case of one girl, a pillar of the Catholic church.

I also had to sort out my own feelings about these women because I always find it hard to relate to women who have been involved in any form of cheating. I fervently believe that there is a special place in hell for women who don’t respect their fellow women enough to not steal their man. However, I’ve always hesitated to unequivocally condemn those women because I am of the opinion that you never really know how you’re going to act in any situation until you’ve faced it yourself. So no one can really say for sure that they won’t be tempted to participate in infidelity, especially if love and lust are involved. I’d like to think I’d be able to resist temptation but we all know love (or the illusion of it anyway) can make people do stupid things.

So I guess the highest praise that I can give this novel is that it will raise questions and generate discussions; it may confuse the hell out of you while reading it but goodness knows that you it will get some kind of reaction out of you. Its hard not to be affected by these women’s experiences and even harder not to sympathise with them despite what you know about their past. You might even find yourself rooting for them as they struggle to survive and escape their imprisonment. In the end, its really not about who they’ve slept with or the journey they’ve taken to get where they are; its about the journey that they will take to get to a better place.

I particularly like the idea of exploring how human beings will react and respond to being placed in extreme situations. Its almost Darwinian really; only the fittest can and will survive. And as seasons changed and food rations became shorter and shorter, some people emerged as leaders, others simply fell apart whereas other people did things they otherwise wouldn’t have done – all in the name of survival. In a way, its ironic; we become the animals that scientific theory says we originated from when circumstances require us to survive. What does that say about us?

While I did not like the ending and I didn’t think it made any particular sense (it left so many questions unanswered!) I did like the overall theme of the book. I think it was worth my time to read it; it was thought-provoking, atmospheric and hey, I was on holiday and had nothing better to do with my time.

Overall: 3 put of 5 stars.

This book is getting a lot of word of mouth recommendations so let me know what you guys think if you ever decide to read it. Check it out on Amazon by clicking the image below!

Cheers, bookworms! xx

Posted in friendship, Lifestyle, relationships

The Road To Hell is Paved With Good Intentions

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

If there’s one lesson that I learned the hard way in 2017 its that not everyone will understand or appreciate your help, especially if its unsolicited, therefore sometimes the best thing to do is to mind your own business.

I used to be really good friends with a girl from work, until I took it upon myself to resolve a situation on her behalf when apparently, all she was doing was airing out her feelings. She didn’t really want nor did she expect me to do anything about it.

Unfortunately I am (or at least, I was) the kind of friend who will feel the need to defend and fight battles when I feel like my friends are being unfairly treated, especially if they don’t feel like they can speak up for themselves whereas I might be in the position to do something about it.

In hindsight, maybe I should have kept in mind that not everyone is as comfortable rocking the boat as I am. For some, its easier to be mad and to simmer for a day or two (or you know, whinge about it until the end of time) than to go through the longer and perhaps more difficult process of really doing something to change how things are.

I also should have kept in mind that no matter how well-intentioned my assistance is, at the end of the day I’m not personally involved in the situation and, again, it really is none of my business. I do not need to be at the forefront of a battle that no one wants to fight.

These days, as much as it pains me to be passive, I only offer help when people ask for it. I realise that, in a way, its a way of showing respect for the other person’s freedom to make his or her own choices, even if I feel like they’re digging themselves a hole that would be difficult to get out of. Its none. of. my. business.

I realised that I don’t have to take on other people’s problems on my shoulders; I’ve got enough of my own thank you very much. Learning this lesson allowed me to be more patient and to realise that sometimes what the other person really needs is simply a sounding board. Sometimes you help just by being there and by really listening to what they’re saying.

It can be hard to listen when you’re already formulating an action plan in your head about what they should be doing to solve the problem. That’s not always what they want from you. Sometimes they just need you to listen and to let them talk. I always have to consciously remind myself nowadays to let other people talk for at least 15 minutes straight before I even think of butting in with my own two cents. I’m sure it comes as a surprise to no one if I say that I tend to forget that other people need to talk too.

Its hard to find the balance between giving a helping hand and just being an annoying, interfering busybody. I don’t know what it is about human beings that we always think we’re so superior as to assume we know better than other people. We don’t. And even if we do, its none of our freakin’ business unless they explicitly ask.

That’s not to say I don’t occasionally intervene, but only in dire times and only with people who are obligated to love me despite my meddling, like my sister for example. And never without telling her or asking her first whether she needed (or wanted) my help or not.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that my own experience is a cautionary tale against putting your nose in other people’s business. Leave them be. As unfair as it may seem, there is a road to hell that is lined with all our good intentions and sometimes its just not worth it.

As someone who’s been on both ends of this argument, believe me when I say that discretion is often the better part of valour…or something like that. Simply put, life is too short to be stressed all the time let alone to be stressed about other people’s affairs. At the end of the day, we each have a life to live and a choice on how we live it. Mind you own damned business, you’ll be much happier for it.

Posted in bloggers

Oooops!

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Just a quick note to say I’ve completely screwed up and showed myself to be a total noob despite having used WordPress for almost 6 months now. This is a cautionary tale that you should just leave well enough alone.

I don’t know what it is I did but I somehow managed to erase all the media on my previous posts so I’ve had to take those down, revert them to draft and I will re-publish them once I’m happy that they’re once again presentable.

I may be mass publishing one of these days but it won’t be all new content, I’m just reposting the posts I’ve fixed. Mea culpa. Lesson learned! Hahaha dear followers, please have patience I’m still getting the hang of this thing.

Cheers! Xx

Posted in dating, relationships

Cruel To Be Kind

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

I am not the type to play games. I consider myself to be a straightforward person in most aspects of my life, but especially when it comes to dating (or not dating, as the case may be).

The thing is, I’ve been on the other end of the equation far too many times to ever be cavalier about another person’s feelings. I’ve been strung along and lured into believing there’s something there when there isn’t; I’ve been on the receiving end of too many “non-rejections” because the other person was too afraid of hurting my feelings to be honest with me.

I think sometimes the hardest part is not knowing. Its like waiting for any test results, its the waiting itself that’s agonising; you really just want to know if you’ve passed or failed so that you can move on with your life one way or another. I think people, more than anything, just want certainty.

I get it though. Any conversation where there’s a chance of hurting the other person’s feelings is bound to be awkward. There is no kind way of saying, actually, I can’t see this working out between us. People, myself included, resort to tactics like simply ignoring texts (“ghosting” as one of my other dates called it), giving off “friend vibes” during dates (such as refusing to hold their hand during a long movie; note to self – do not ever watch any instalment of LOTR or The Hobbit unless you’re really sure of your bloody date) or just simply going off the other person’s radar.

I read a blog once that said that our generation, The Tinder Generation, tend to see dates as disposable. Its apparently so easy to get dates these days – as easy as swiping right with your index finger – that dating itself has lost much of its value. Just like everything else in the 21st century, we’ve found a way to make something that used to take so much work and effort into a fast, efficient and effective (for some anyway) machine.

While I disagree with the whole dating is easy thing (even with Tinder I struggle), I can’t deny that I’ve absorbed just a little the mentality of “oh if it doesn’t work out, you can always swipe right for the next guy“. I’d like to think I put in an effort for every date, but is it easier to date because you know there’s a safety net of an app that has already lined up a plethora of other choices for you?

I’m ashamed to say there was a time when I resorted to ghosting someone who had gotten too intense too soon. And then I read that article and I was filled with so much remorse because if I put myself in that other person’s shoes, that’s not how I want to be treated. So as painful as it was to have an honest conversation with the guy, I managed to get through it.

I was honest about having second thoughts and why I was having them; I was magnanimous enough to say I’m happy to try a second date but that I though our basic incompatibility was just too big a hurdle to overcome. I don’t think he was very pleased with that decision, but he appreciated the honesty and I slept better at night for having had the guts to just say ‘not interested’.

If I have one wish, its that we need not go through so much overanalyses when it comes to dating. I mean, maybe the uncertainty is part of the allure for some. But all the misconstruing just leads to unnecessary stress and heartache; a lot of our problems can be avoided if we just say what we mean and mean what we say. Its not rocket science people. You like someone, you say it. You don’t like someone, don’t date them.

I personally don’t subscribe to this whole giving-them-a-chance nonsense. I think you know straight out of the gate if there’s potential or not. And I’m now at that age where I don’t want to waste my time with someone (and potentially lead them on) all in the name of kindness. If I’ve been on a date, especially if its gone past the first date, its because I’ve wanted to be there.

I go with my gut instinct most of the time, and its never failed me. Yes I’m still single, but I’m also not stuck in an unhappy relationship just because I was in love with the idea of one (or just because I was pressured by society!). I think the worst thing to be is to find yourself in a hole of your own making just because you didn’t have the guts to be alone and hold out for the right guy.

I guess I’m just writing this to reaffirm some of my personal dating credo. I know scruples and principles don’t mean much anymore, but my conscience simply won’t allow me to date without them.

Don’t lead them on.

Say what you mean, mean what you say.

Don’t force yourself to feel what you don’t feel.

If its right, its easy.

Don’t think yourself shallow just because you need to be attracted to whoever you’re dating. If it works out, you’re potentially going to wake up seeing that mug every morning. That’s a huge decision to make!

A little sense of humour goes a long way.

If he doesn’t understand sarcasm, run the other way. Lol

And always, always, be honest.

Be honest about what you want and what you don’t want.Kindness is very subjective, but I think we can all agree that its kinder to reject than to string along; its kinder to rip off the band-aid with the truth, than to leave a wound to fester underneath. Its kinder to say no right now than to say no later down the road when you’ve already invested real emotions.

And really, you’re being kinder to yourself if you allow yourself to be happy in your own company while you wait for the right person, than to subject yourself to the agony of “settling”. And whatever lies you tell yourself, bowing to the dictates of others and making a decision you wouldn’t normally make just because you feel pressured and you want to be “kind” is settling.

Like the old saying goes, sometimes you just have to be cruel (even to yourself) in order to be kind.

Posted in dating, Feminism, Filipino, relationships, Self-Discovery

Where’s Your Boyfriend?

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Every time I come for a visit to the Philippines – and especially as I reach that age where everyone you know is either a wife or a mother – there’s just that little bit of anxiety and a touch of resentment mixed in with the all the excitement.

You see, I come from a culture where its more or less expected, nay, required for a woman to be either in a serious relationship if not married by the age of 25. For a long long time I bought into the whole Stepford wife illusion of white picket fences, loving husband and 2.5 babies. That to me was THE goal.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, moving to London saved my life.

The Giving Tree

I once volunteered to help less fortunate children to read and one of the books we read was The Giving Tree. I must have been 27 at the time and I remember trying my best to keep it together and to keep my emotions in check so that I wouldn’t blubber like a nutter in front of all those kids who had so much more to worry about than my love life.

I was in a very self-destructive, unhealthy and pathetically one-sided relationship in college that gave new meaning to the word friend zone. I lost myself completely in my misguided quest to make another person love me. I was stupid enough to believe, just like that bloody giving tree, that if you give of yourself enough that other person will love you back.

It took me about 8 years to realise that love doesn’t work that way. You shouldn’t have to work so hard to make someone else love you. You don’t need to lose yourself in a relationship. Even as you become partners in all things, its still healthy to retain that sense of individuality, and the sense of who you are as a person outside of the relationship. In short, to be able to truly give yourself to someone, you have to be whole, and you have to know and love yourself first.

This was not an easy lesson for me to learn and in a way, I’m probably still in the process of learning it. Its hard for me not to be a giver (I probably always will be) and it was so hard for me to gain back my self-esteem and my self-respect.

That’s one of the main reasons why I’ve remained single for a long long time. I date, sure, but at the back of my mind I know that my head wasn’t in the right place for me to even think about starting anything serious. I had so much to discover about myself, so much lost time to make up for, so many things that I still need to do and a boyfriend would just get in the way.

I’ve probably been a bit self-absorbed for the last 6 years or so – about the length of time that I’ve lived and worked in London. It was all about what I want to do, what I need to learn, where I need to go. I enjoyed the freedom of having no one to think about apart from myself. If I make mistakes no one else needs to suffer from it.

And to be honest that was probably a good thing. My experimental forays into trying things that are outside my comfort zone have gained me new skills, new friends and new experiences that cannot be bought by any kind of money. I have a job I love even as it often gives me stress, a side job that pays me to do one of the things I enjoy most, a blog that keeps me sane, a comfortable flat, and the kind of life that if I really think about it, brings me happiness. I’m one application (and 2 thousand pounds) away from being British. I’m so damn proud of all my achievements and I’ve never had any reason to doubt myself and my life choices. Until I come home to the Philippines of course.

I’m Alone…But Not Lonely

Look, I date okay. Not that I need to explain myself to anyone, but I do in fact go on several dates a year. The quality of those dates are sometimes suspect and none of them have panned out yet, but I’ve yet to lose hope that I’ll meet that someone and I’ll just know it was worth waiting and holding out for something more meaningful than a one-night stand.

I know, I know, I turned 30 and I’m losing fertile eggs as we speak. But seriously, the notion that being a wife or a mother is the measure of how successful a woman is is really outdated. I came home this year and people start to look at me funny because I don’t have a man by my side or an infant in my arms. No one wants to hear about every thing else I’ve done or what I have achieved, they just want to look at my finger to see if anyone’s put a ring on it.

I admit, I had my moment of panic when I turned 30. For maybe a day. And then I gave myself a kick in the arse and reminded myself that first of all, its not a race to the finish and second of all, 30 isn’t exactly ancient. I’ve had dates that never would have taken me as seriously at 27 as they do now. My life isn’t over, its not quite time for me to think about adopting cats yet.

The Measure of Success

It drives me mad to think that there are people who think I’m somehow less just because I’m “still” single. I have all the admiration in the world for mothers and for women who have chosen to start a family even at the expense of having a career – I think those women should be celebrated (sainted, really). But equally, credit should be given to those women who chose the other fork in the road and have fought to build a career despite the challenges and yes, despite being alone for most of it.

And its not like motherhood is not part of the plan. I, for one, would like to see my genes propagated (is that the right word?), but I’m not sitting around twiddling my thumbs while waiting for the future Mr. Angela. Its part of my bigger plan, its not my only plan. So yes, I do want to get married eventually and this is the first time that I can honestly say I’m ready for it (cue Taylor Swift music) so the answer to that question is a “not yet” rather than a hard “no”.

I hate having to defend my life choices to other people, I promised myself that I would rise above the weight of society’s expectations (I absolutely knew this was coming). It sickens me to think that I can still be affected by other people’s small minds and narrow world-views. I sometimes want to scream in frustration that there is a world out there bigger than the very small circle in which your lives revolve, but I don’t want to seem like I’m belittling anyone’s life or the choices they have made. I just wish they’d exercise the same caution when they choose to judge mine.

Where’s Your Boyfriend?

I don’t know. I don’t know where my boyfriend is. Twice in the past 6 years I thought I’ve found him but it turned out I haven’t. I haven’t met him yet, but I can feel myself getting closer. I’m enjoying the roundabout journey I’m taking to find him. It might take me a little longer, but when I meet him he can be sure that I’m whole, I’m ready, and I’m excited to share my passions, my dreams, and my life with him and to have him share his with me in turn.

Like I said, there’s a great big world out there for me to see. Life is one very exciting adventure and it would sure be grand to be holding someone’s hand as I live through it.

So for all you women out there who get asked the same questions from well-meaning and sometimes not so well-meaning friends and family: DO NOT GIVE IN. DO NOT SETTLE. And absolutely DO NOT let it be a factor in your decisions. You will come to it in your own damn time, and in your own way. Be strong.

Posted in Books, Reviews

Book Review: Sirens – Joseph Knox

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

There are only really three things that I know for sure after having read this book:

  1. I will probably think twice before I ever volunteer to visit Manchester.
  2. I will never understand why some people would choose to take drugs
  3. I should think twice before opting to take such a gruesome crime novel with me whilst I’m on holiday

Joseph Knox spins a tale about a detective who has gone undercover to investigate some kind of drug cartel in Manchester and at the same time to look into the disappearance of an MP’s teenage daughter.

Detective Aiden Waits is a shady character at best, and he comes close to answering the age old question about whether a cop and a criminal are two sides of the same coin. If you spend the majority of your time trying to think like a criminal, how much more can you take before you are unable to distinguish yourself from the people whose crimes you’re trying to stop?

The good detective made some phenomenally bad choices throughout this book; he wasn’t the kind of main character I could really get behind on. He alternated between being stupidly arrogant and pitifully weak; he couldn’t figure out what was really going on until the last possible minute (neither could I, but I’m not a detective) and he almost seemed to play into the hands of the true perpetrators for about 70% of the book. So, no, he wasn’t the strongest point of this story.

The development of the rest of the supporting characters, however, fairly overshadowed that of Detective Waits. It takes much for me to sympathise with drug dealers and corrupt officials, but Joseph Knox did such a good job of showing their different backgrounds without bogging the story down. He offers no excuses for their actions, merely asking the readers to empathise and understand the life choices that have brought them to their present circumstances.

Its easier to judge people from behind glass houses, not so easy when you’re knee deep in shite with no other way out. We are all, I think, victims of our personal circumstances. Some of us just do better at rising against bad circumstances than others. But if you put yourself in other people’s shoes for a moment and think about how your own life could have been so different if you had to walk a mile in their shoes…you wouldn’t be so quick to judge.

The twists and turns of the story happened at breakneck speed; its such a page-turner that I finished it in a day (the weather was bad and I could not go to the beach as planned). Everything was set against the horrifyingly detailed backdrop of the underbelly of Manchester; Joseph Knox had no qualms about describing the city’s drug scene in all its glory, making me question just how much truth went into this and if so, that must have been some harrowing months of research (although I think I read somewhere that he grew up in Manchester).

The inevitable payoff and solving of the mystery was a little bit anti-climactic; I don’t think the ending was as satisfying as I would have liked. No one was really given an ending, and I’m not sure justice was really served in the end. But I guess that’s the reality of life isn’t it? The good guys don’t always win and the bad guys sometimes go free. Life goes on either way.

Overall, this was a good read! 3 out of 5 stars.

P.S. I think the play on the word ‘Sirens’ and its different meanings as the story progressed was very very clever. I would love to hear what you guys think! Buy the book on amazon for a good deal by clicking the photo below.

Posted in Books, Fantasy, Reviews

Book Review: A Darker Shade of Magic

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Originally posted sometime last year but had to be taken off the site because of my stupidity. Lol. I’ve decided to repost my review of VE Schwab’s books because I’m about to finish another one of her weird, interesting, quirky and altogether original books. Enjoy re-reading this guys! 

 

darker

Fantasy is a genre that relies on an author having an original idea, unparalleled imagination and the ability to create worlds that take us away from our own lives for the 5 hours or so that it takes to finish the book. V.E. Schwab succeeds with all that and more in the first book of her Shades of Magic Trilogy.

In this book. she introduces us to three different worlds, their only common thread being that in all these worlds there is always a city named London. The main character, Kell, is an antari – a group of people who are “blessed” with magic and whose blood enables them to travel through those worlds as long as they have a “token”, usually an object that belongs to that world.

Kell differentiates the three Londons by assigning colours to them: Red London, the city where magic is alive and thriving; Grey London, where no one believes that magic really exists;  and White London, where magic used to exist but has long gone, leaving its people starving for just the taste of it (and starving for food as well, most likely). There was a fourth London where magic existed in its purest, strongest form, ultimately leading to that city’s destruction; Kell calls this city of legends Black London.

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I am utterly enamoured of the concept of this book. It goes without saying that I will automatically love a book that’s set in London, but Ms Schwab takes it further by giving us three (for now) different version of this city. The world building in this book is amazing in its descriptiveness. I feel like its almost itching for a movie adaptation, and let’s be honest, that is the dream isn’t it? I, for one, would love to see Red London – with its  castle floating on the river Thames itself, and a bustling and vibrant market on the banks – up on the big screen.

Apart from the world-building, this book also introduces the delightful, though sometimes annoying, Delilah Bard. Although Kell is meant to be the main protagonist of this book, Lila steals the show every time she appears. Unapologetically brash and driven by self-gratification and selfish purposes, she is the perfect foil to Kell’s strong sense of duty. A common thief originally from Grey London, she’s the kind of woman who marches to the beat of her own drum and doesn’t let society dictate her actions. She is determined to make her mark on the world, to have adventures and to see what else is out there. She refuses to be a victim of her own narrative: just because she was born poor doesn’t mean she’ll stay poor.

Lila is a character whose arc is sure to be explored in the next books and I’m quite excited to learn the secrets of her past, some of which are already hinted at in this book. As for Kell, I feel like his character wasn’t as well-developed as Lila’s. Either that or I haven’t really paid attention because he’s carved from the same mould as many other male protagonists in other fantasy series. VE Schwab is yet to add something to his character that will make readers stand up and take notice, but there is potential there.

The real winner in this book is the writing. It flows so seamlessly that you will find yourself turning page after page and not noticing that you’re halfway through the book. VE Schwab keeps its simple. This book doesn’t attempt to be literary or wordy, it embraces and celebrates the fact that its a fantasy novel. Ms Schwab simply tells the story in the best way she knows how and somehow it just works.

As the lead runner in this trilogy, this book picks up the baton with aplomb and sets the scene for passing it to the next book in the series. It takes readers through a delightful pub crawl-like romp through the worlds the author has created. It ends on a high note and with enough hints of what more there is to come to quickly send readers to the nearest bookstore to buy the next instalment, which is exactly what I will be doing today.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Posted in Books, Horror, Reviews

Seven Reasons Why I Should Never Have Read The Shining

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Remember that scene in F.R.I.E.N.D.S when viewers found out that Joey got so scared while reading The Shining that he placed the book in the freezer?

Yep. I now totally get why he did that.

Because I didn’t feel like dressing up for Halloween, I thought I’d celebrate in my own way by finally reading what some people call “the scariest book in the world”: The Shining by Stephen King. While it seemed like a good idea at the time, I will forever regret that decision because this book is scary as hell. I don’t know how I even got through it, except to say that my electricity bill must have gone up because I slept with the lights on for the entire week that I was reading this book. Here’s why I NEVER should have done it:

 

  1. The setting. I have always loved hotels; there’s something about it that fulfils my need to have someone at my beck and call (read: room service), and they always seem to have the comfiest pillows. However, after reading this book, I will never quite look at hotels in the same way again.
  2. The isolation. Jack Torrance, the main character, is asked to be a caretaker of The Overlook Hotel while it closes for the winter season (I didn’t even know this was a thing). He brings his wife and son Danny with him and because of the weather, the roads leading to the hotel are completely blocked. I am a city girl; I’ve chosen to live in one of the busiest areas of London because I like the noise and the hustle and bustle. I cannot spend months cooped up in a massive, creepy hotel with only two other people for company. I understand a little bit why Jack slowly starts to lose it.
  3. The haunting. The Overlook Hotel has been around for more than 60 years and its witnessed some pretty horrible stuff: crimes of passion, crimes of greed and others. So its probably only natural that some of those ghosts will linger in the confines of the hotel. Seriously, in the future every time I enter a hotel room I will now be thinking about the person/s who have been in that room before me and what their life was like. Jeepers.
  4. The slow deterioration of Jack Torrance’s sanity. Poor Jack. Abused as a kid, always down on his luck, never quite catching a break…I think life had set him up to fail. It would have taken a man of extraordinary character to overcome his less-than-ideal beginnings and be able to turn his life around. Jack does not have that character. He let his history defeat him and he could never quite take full responsibility for his part in the destruction of his career, marriage and his life in general. It’s understandable why he, out of the three people in that hotel, is most susceptible to possession by malignant spirits.
  5. The moments of clarity. I think that this is where the book will always have an advantage over the movie adaptation. The movie is apparently scary, but the book makes more of an impact because we get a glimpse into Jack’s thought process. And he has these moments of lucidity where his love for his son comes through and it just breaks my heart. It makes the other scenes, when he goes stark raving mad, all the more horrible because we know that this man, given half a chance, would have been a good man and a good father.
  6. Danny Torrance. Danny has psychic abilities, what the characters in the book call ‘the shining’ and he’s able to read people’s minds, look into the future and other weird things. The kid is creepy as hell; he has these weird dreams where his imaginary friend ‘Tony’ shows him visions. He dreamt about the happenings in the hotel long before they ever moved there. Later we find out who Tony really is and we understand these visions better, and I have no words for how incredibly creepy it is. Sorry, I keep repeating that word but it was just sooooo creepy.
  7. REDRUM. When the reader finally finds out what REDRUM means (and I smacked myself for not getting it sooner!), you just know that the book is about to reach its inevitable conclusion and it ain’t gonna be pretty. I can almost hear a horror movie score in the background when the climax of the book played out and I swear the hair on my arms stood on end. It was very well written!

 

Stephen King is a master storyteller. I can’t say I’m a big fan of his writing style, I sometimes find it a bit disjointed and jarring but I can’t deny that he knows how to write a freakin’ page turner that will have you up at night hearing a voice saying ‘HEEEEEREEEEE’S JOHNNNNYYYY!’

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Damn you, Stephen King. Lol