Keris Stainton's Blog, page 62

My favourite book from childhood

Day 16 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a favourite book from childhood'.

Enid Blyton was a big fave as a child. Oddly not the Famous Five – I don't even remember reading them – but the Secret Seven, Malory Towers, St Clare's and, of course, the Faraway Tree series.

But I've chosen a book that I've got on my shelf to reread asap: The Cricket in Times Square by George Selden. I don't remember very much about it, but I remember that it made me long to visit New York and, um, live in a drain pipe in Times Square.

(Ooh, just thought of another book that made me yearny – this time for London – The Swish of the Curtain by Pamela Brown.)

What was your favourite childhood book?

WIN: (un)like a Virgin by Lucy-Anne Holmes

I read a proof of this book a while ago and absolutely loved it. It's one of my favourite books of the year so far. So when I was sent a finished copy too, I thought I'd give someone else the chance to love it as much as I did. (What I mean by that is I'm giving it away in a competition.) (In case that wasn't clear.)

So! If you'd like to win a copy of (un)like a Virgin please leave a comment under this post before 25 September (midnight GMT). UK only please.

If you'd like to tell me about something you've recently done "for the very first time" that would be entertaining, but not necessary. (And not if it's something in the bedroom. I blush easily.)

What's your most-read book?

Day 15 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a book that I have read the most number of times'.

Hmm. I'm not sure. The book I've read the most times lately is Catherine Newman's Waiting for Birdy (it's probably the book I've mentioned the most on this blog too).

As a child I probably read Enid Blyton's Malory Towers series the most.

As a teen it was Thinking of You by Jeanette Nobile, which I wrote about for Girls Heart Books.

What's your most-read book?

A favourite 19th Century novel

Day 14 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a favourite 19th Century novel'.

Just the words 'a favourite 19th Century novel' strike fear into my heart. I was asked this very question in my university interview and my brain went into immediate meltdown, shouting "Austen? Brontes? Austen's not 19th Century you idiot! What if he asks which Bronte? Which Bronte wrote which book?! Dickens! Say Dickens!"

As it turns out the answer is none of the above, it's actually The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. Atmospheric, gripping, exciting. I read it at university and absolutely loved it.

What's your favourite 19th Century novel?

Books that make you laugh out loud

Day 13 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a book that made you laugh out loud'.

Much with the books that made me cry, I can't just choose one.

Susie Day's The Big Woo! made me laugh a lot (on a train – people looked at me funny).

The first time I read Frank Skinner's autobiography it made me cry laughing, but I reread it recently and I didn't laugh out loud at all (but it did make me cry – both times).

The Best a Man Can Get by John O'Farrell made me weep with laughter as did Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About by Mil Millington.

Attack of the Theatre People by Marc Acito made me laugh a lot as did My Lucky Star by Joe Keenan and 50 Ways to Find a Lover by Lucy-Anne Holmes.

There are lots more, obviously, but they were the first that sprang to mind.

Which books have made you laugh out loud? 

The 3 Rs: Romantic comedy, retarded and rape

I saw Friends With Benefits the other night. I didn't have high hopes – I tend not to have very high hopes for any romantic comedy these days – but I actually really loved it. The two leads were charming and funny with great chemistry, New York looked gorgeous, they dissed Katherine Heigl, John Mayer and Nicholas Sparks (and also George Clooney, but in a good way), and there was a flashmob. You know I love a flashmob.

But.

There were two moments that pulled me out of the story, made me go "WTF?!" and that I'm still fuming about a couple of days later. The first is this (Jamie is played by Mila Kunis, Dylan by Timberlake):

Jamie: Okay. So, what is your type anyway?

Dylan: [sarcastically] Oh, no. I don't have a type. It's more about what's inside.

Jamie: Oh, please! Okay. What about her?

[points to a woman standing on some steps reading]

Dylan: Yeah! I could get to know her inside. And she's reading a book.

Jamie: It's probably Nicholas Sparks.

Dylan: I'm gonna go talk to her.

Jamie: What?

Dylan: What do you mean 'what'? You said we need to learn to date again. I'm gonna go talk to her.

Jamie: Now? Here? In front of all these people?

Dylan: I didn't say I was gonna rape her. I'm just gonna talk to her.

Gosh, that's funny, isn't it? The way he just dropped 'rape' into the conversation. Because he's not going to rape her, obviously, he's just going to talk to her. That's why it's funny!

Wait. I don't get it.

The thing that shocks me about this is not that it's a rubbish line that made me instantly dislike Dylan, it's not that Jamie – who is generally a pretty no bullshit character – giggled rather than saying, "Wow. What an asshole" (and in fact later in the movie starts to repeat the line, but doesn't make it to the end), it's that no one at any point in the making of this movie thought, "Do you know what? If someone's watching this and they've actually been raped, that line's not going to come off as charming as we think it is."

And then there was this:

Jamie: I'll go next. See if I still have game.

Dylan: Okay.

[as he spots a guy]

Dylan: Ooh! Okay.

Jamie: Yes.

Dylan: Right here. Eleven o'clock. Iced coffee.

[referring to man standing ahead of them drinking iced coffee]

Jamie: Handsome, but doesn't know it. Staring at a tree, which means he's actually in the park for nature and not to watch women sun bathe.

Dylan: Or he's retarded.

Jamie: Don't care. I'm goin' in.

Ah "retarded". Always a comedy staple. A really lazy comedy staple (see Caitlin Moran's otherwise wonderful book How to be A Woman.) Gemma Varnom wrote an excellent blog post about the word "retard" in relation to Moran's book and she explains just why it's offensive much better than I ever could: Weapon-words, Caitlin Moran and the Responsibilities of the Writer.

The thing I find really shocking about Friends With Benefits is that in all other respects it seems to be going out of its way to be as current as possible. You can have all the mocking of rom-com cliches, flashmobs and iPads you like, but there's just no place for jokes like this in 2011. Seriously.

My favourite historical novel

Day 12 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a favourite historical novel'. 

Rose Tremain's Restoration was the first book that sprang to mind, but then I had a look at my shelves and decided on Lauren Belfer's City of Light instead. Set at the turn of the 20th Century, it's about hydro-electricity and politics and Niagara Falls, which, I grant you, doesn't sound all that appealing, but it's a mystery and a romance and a thriller and I adored it.

Over the past ten years or so I've checked every now and then to see if Belfer had written anything else, but no joy. And then I checked today for this post and found that she had a new novel out last year, called A Fierce Radiance. I LOVE the cover and it's set in New York during World War II. Can't wait to read it (although I'm going to have to wait cos I'm on a book buying ban).

Running commentary

One of my favourite things about walking to school with the boys is the running commentary that Harry keeps up. Sometimes it's more of a chat, but sometimes – like this morning when I haven't had breakfast or even a cup of tea – Harry's more than happy to hold his own. I wrote down as much as I could remember as soon as I got home… I'll be glad of this in a few years when he's only communicating in grunts

It's Monday, 12th September 2011 and it's raining. And windy and cloudy.

What are we doing this week? I've got swimming on Wednesday. The lady last week told us what we need to take and we need shorts and a towel in a plastic bag. We have registration and lessons in the morning. At 10 o'clock it's literacy till 10.45 and then I think Maths and then we have a bit of our lunchtime play, I'm not sure about that. And then we have to get all our stuff together and walk down to the coach and the man or woman driving the coach will be waiting for us. And there are 45 seats.

It's going to be so good. We'll see trees and cars and people and convertibles putting their roofs up and other things. And we get to sit with our friends. I LOVE going on coaches. It's going to be absolutely brilliant! And when we get to the swimming pool we have to go in and the boys get changed in one room and the girls get changed in another room and then we go to the secret swimming pool that I can't tell you about. Don't ask me because it's a secret swimming pool just for us.

It's REALLY windy. I thought the hurricane was ages ago and you said it had blown out. And how is New York? I remember you said they were starting a clean-up, but that was ages ago. Ooh! A bit of blue sky. If it dries up all the puddles I will give a trophy to the world! To the North Pole! A man will go up in a rocket and… Good morning, ducks! 

Books that made me cry

Day 11 of the 40 day book challenge is 'a book that made me cry'. 

Rather than just one, I thought I'd go with a bunch of books that made me cry. Just a few that spring immediately to mind. There are lots more…

The World According to Garp by John Irving. If you've read this, you'll probably know the bit I mean… Something happens and then the point of view shifts and so you don't know the outcome. I couldn't wait to find out – I flicked forward, learned the outcome and then cried and cried. Had to put the book down I was crying so much.

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I didn't want to read this – it didn't sound like my kind of thing at all, probably because I don't actually like books that are marketed as "tearjerkers" – but I absolutely loved it. I finished it sitting in Starbucks on Deansgate, Manchester, before work and doing proper gulping sobs. Embarrassing.

Anybody Out There by Marian Keyes. Read it on a plane. Proper gulping sobs. Embarrassing.

Dear Zoe by Philip Beard. Also read this on a plane. Again, made a total show of myself. When will I learn?!

What books have made you cry? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? 

Ten years ago today

We'd just got back from six weeks in America. We'd flown back from Chicago because we'd run out of money. The original plan had been to travel from Chicago down the East coast and fly back from Miami. Maybe we would have reached New York by 11 September, I don't know.

Instead, I was in my sister's car when we heard the news that a plane had hit the World Trade Centre. I pictured a tiny biplane. I remember saying "What did the pilot think he was doing?" We left the car at my sister's house and walked to the shops. It was as we passed a TV shop, showing the news on every screen, that we saw it wasn't a biplane and it was much worse than we'd imagined. I kept thinking "Poor New York." Over and over. At that point I hadn't thought about the people in the buildings. I think as we walked away from the shop the second plane hit – other people were watching through the windows and we heard their reaction – and we ran back. I think that's the moment I started to feel frightened. We went back to my sister's house. I phoned David (he was at my Dad's house) and told him to put the TV on.

We sat down and watched. I remember neither of us being able to speak. I remember having my hand over my mouth and struggling to catch my breath. And then the first building fell. I don't remember crying, but I'm sure I must have done. By then, of course, the news was talking about how many people were in the buildings. I was still thinking about the buildings themselves – the first time we went to New York, in 1999, we stayed at the Milennium Hilton, directly opposite the World Trade Center. In the morning the top of the towers were in the clouds. I would sit in the window and watch them clear and the upper floors appear. We went to the viewing platform and couldn't believe you could actually go further and stand on the very top. It was incredible. I thought the buildings were beautiful. It was unimaginable to me that they were gone.

The news reports were talking about other planes that were "unaccounted for". They said a plane in Pennsylvania had been shot down (I absolutely remember them saying it had been shot down). They talked about car bombs in Madrid and elsewhere. In my sister's Merseyside living room I didn't feel safe. I thought it was the end of the world.

And then as the days went on, I stopped thinking about New York and the buildings and the skyline and the unimaginable horror of it all and I started thinking about the people.

A couple of years ago I read 102 Minutes: The untold story of the fight to survive inside the Twin Towers. Despite the awful subtitle, I actually found it quite a life-affirming book. Of course it's profoundly sad – how could it not be? – but so many people behaved incredibly that day. The kindness, tenderness, bravery and basic goodness of people was just overwhelming. People who chose not to leave the towers but to stay to help others escape. People who refused to leave friends who, for whatever reason, couldn't get out. Many others who didn't die, who managed to get out of the towers and who, along the way, saved, comforted or encouraged strangers. I'm so glad I read it.