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The Sky is Not Blue
A dark tale of oppressive friendship and the fallibility of memory.
Photographer Chrissy returns home for the first time in 34 years, unsure if she caused the death of her best friend, Pat, in 1973.
Her parents now dead, she plans to sell up quickly and leave. But the past returns, unbidden and cloudy. Elderly neighbour Alice and childhood friend Marion seem unable or unwilling to fill in the gaps. And Spencer, the nihilistic lover she’d assumed dead, is alive and producing commercial art for tourists.
Memories of events leading up to Pat’s death must be recovered if Chrissy is to find out what it is she's been running from all those years.
Photographer Chrissy returns home for the first time in 34 years, unsure if she caused the death of her best friend, Pat, in 1973.
Her parents now dead, she plans to sell up quickly and leave. But the past returns, unbidden and cloudy. Elderly neighbour Alice and childhood friend Marion seem unable or unwilling to fill in the gaps. And Spencer, the nihilistic lover she’d assumed dead, is alive and producing commercial art for tourists.
Memories of events leading up to Pat’s death must be recovered if Chrissy is to find out what it is she's been running from all those years.
334 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 30, 2013
9 people want to read
About the author
Sandie Zand
4 books14 followersBorn in Lancashire, a stone’s throw from the infamous witches’ cairn on Pendle Hill, Sandie was educated at the local grammar school where she excelled in English, Art, History and Detention.
She lived in various parts of the UK for 33 years - earning her keep in business development and project management roles - before returning to her witchy roots, where she now works as a management consultant and writes non-work stuff when she can.
Writing as Sandie Zand, she has had short stories published in the Words to Music (2011) collection. Her début novel The Sky is not Blue was published by Mad Bear Books in July 2013 and her second novel, the town that danced was published in 2015. She blogs at Thoughts from the Shed (www.sandiezand.com) and can also be found, sporadically, on Twitter.
She lived in various parts of the UK for 33 years - earning her keep in business development and project management roles - before returning to her witchy roots, where she now works as a management consultant and writes non-work stuff when she can.
Writing as Sandie Zand, she has had short stories published in the Words to Music (2011) collection. Her début novel The Sky is not Blue was published by Mad Bear Books in July 2013 and her second novel, the town that danced was published in 2015. She blogs at Thoughts from the Shed (www.sandiezand.com) and can also be found, sporadically, on Twitter.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
September 3, 2013
Exquisitely written …
I quickly came to admire the protagonist’s distinct, acerbic voice for its authenticity. Her story takes up in the house of her mother, whose death necessitated the daughter’s return after three decades of absence. Haunted by blanks in her memory Chrissie attempts to crush realms of thoughts into brief lines. This is done so well it captures the reader for the next 325 pages.
‘The Sky is not Blue’ is a powerful retrospective of an only child who dreamt of being able to fly away from unbearable tensions to find her true home.
The little girl with mousy hair was born into the after-WW2 ambience, where men, particularly those with a sensitive and creative disposition, would return from the battlefield with deep psychological wounds. The emotionally withdrawn fathers, father’s caught in their obsession for control, the explosively angry fathers, the severely disturbed fathers, they are familiar to many children – even today – who inherit the untold and are left with scars.
In recurrent flashbacks, interspersed like drumbeats in the narrative, we get snippets of Chrissie’s brush with death in an unresolved love/hate scene with a girl called Pat. And we learn of a spirited child, suffocated by rigid rules. Her transgressions of these rules slowly emerge as pivotal moments leading up to the traumatic incident at 16, after which Chrissie slips away and puts her past on ice, only to return when her mother’s estate needs sorting.
Chrissie's examination of herself and others in her coastal village is mercilessly harsh, but congruent throughout. She think herself not the sentimental type, she doesn't travel backwards. When she caught that last train after the traumatic night she had distanced herself, left the whole mess behind, her claustrophobic home, Spencer, he artist lover, and Marion, the school friend and admirer, both anchor and source of frustration. When Chrissie’s life as partner to a mega rock star becomes public knowledge, Marion resigns herself to a mundane life, cooks up resentment and blames her old friend for her father’s heart attack.
During the peeling away, of wallpaper in her parent’s house, and her layers of fixed perceptions, Chrissie relies on phone calls from Mervyn, the fatherly businessman who had initially found her stranded at a train station after she escaped. A faithful friend, he held her emotionally through years of fame and excess, during which time he himself clocked up a number of failed marriages. He still hopes that Chrissie will commit to a relationship with him, but she won’t settle for nauseating togetherness, she desires what she can’t name.
There are poignant encounters with the spinster Alice, the mother’s neighbour, who assumes the role of Chrissie’s conscience.
Here an excerpt of their encounter: ... Alice looked ancient … Clothes that had once touched curves hung pathetically over sharp shoulders, dragging her towards the ground … she stood on the doorstep for a minute or so before I could place her. Alice. Neighbour, childhood aunt of sorts, and my mother’s closest friend. She handed over a rigid cardboard box, lighter than her shaky hands suggested … It’s your mother, Christine ...
Later, when it comes to tossing the ashes to the wind and Chrissie recoils from touching them, Alice lets slip, ‘You really are a selfish creature.’ What follows marks a shift. I won’t give more away.
When the blank spaces in Chrissie’s memory assume meaning and the mystery unravels, she finds her home in the arms of the love she had feared.
‘The Sky is not Blue’ leaves a strong impact. It is exquisitely written, filled with the wisdom of a rich life and fine observations. I hope for more writing from Sandie Zand. She’s got a fan.
I quickly came to admire the protagonist’s distinct, acerbic voice for its authenticity. Her story takes up in the house of her mother, whose death necessitated the daughter’s return after three decades of absence. Haunted by blanks in her memory Chrissie attempts to crush realms of thoughts into brief lines. This is done so well it captures the reader for the next 325 pages.
‘The Sky is not Blue’ is a powerful retrospective of an only child who dreamt of being able to fly away from unbearable tensions to find her true home.
The little girl with mousy hair was born into the after-WW2 ambience, where men, particularly those with a sensitive and creative disposition, would return from the battlefield with deep psychological wounds. The emotionally withdrawn fathers, father’s caught in their obsession for control, the explosively angry fathers, the severely disturbed fathers, they are familiar to many children – even today – who inherit the untold and are left with scars.
In recurrent flashbacks, interspersed like drumbeats in the narrative, we get snippets of Chrissie’s brush with death in an unresolved love/hate scene with a girl called Pat. And we learn of a spirited child, suffocated by rigid rules. Her transgressions of these rules slowly emerge as pivotal moments leading up to the traumatic incident at 16, after which Chrissie slips away and puts her past on ice, only to return when her mother’s estate needs sorting.
Chrissie's examination of herself and others in her coastal village is mercilessly harsh, but congruent throughout. She think herself not the sentimental type, she doesn't travel backwards. When she caught that last train after the traumatic night she had distanced herself, left the whole mess behind, her claustrophobic home, Spencer, he artist lover, and Marion, the school friend and admirer, both anchor and source of frustration. When Chrissie’s life as partner to a mega rock star becomes public knowledge, Marion resigns herself to a mundane life, cooks up resentment and blames her old friend for her father’s heart attack.
During the peeling away, of wallpaper in her parent’s house, and her layers of fixed perceptions, Chrissie relies on phone calls from Mervyn, the fatherly businessman who had initially found her stranded at a train station after she escaped. A faithful friend, he held her emotionally through years of fame and excess, during which time he himself clocked up a number of failed marriages. He still hopes that Chrissie will commit to a relationship with him, but she won’t settle for nauseating togetherness, she desires what she can’t name.
There are poignant encounters with the spinster Alice, the mother’s neighbour, who assumes the role of Chrissie’s conscience.
Here an excerpt of their encounter: ... Alice looked ancient … Clothes that had once touched curves hung pathetically over sharp shoulders, dragging her towards the ground … she stood on the doorstep for a minute or so before I could place her. Alice. Neighbour, childhood aunt of sorts, and my mother’s closest friend. She handed over a rigid cardboard box, lighter than her shaky hands suggested … It’s your mother, Christine ...
Later, when it comes to tossing the ashes to the wind and Chrissie recoils from touching them, Alice lets slip, ‘You really are a selfish creature.’ What follows marks a shift. I won’t give more away.
When the blank spaces in Chrissie’s memory assume meaning and the mystery unravels, she finds her home in the arms of the love she had feared.
‘The Sky is not Blue’ leaves a strong impact. It is exquisitely written, filled with the wisdom of a rich life and fine observations. I hope for more writing from Sandie Zand. She’s got a fan.
September 19, 2013
Mesmerising. I will write more when I've had time to think about it. (But before I do I might start again at the beginning - it's that sort of book.)
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews