Our Endless Numbered Days

It feels like it was a while since I picked up a fictional book that I really liked. I don’t even remember how I came across Claire Fuller but I started following her blog and that is how I found out about her debut book Our Endless Numbered Days. To my surprise I found a copy at my local library. Hurray for libraries!

It’s good to read a book by someone you know nothing about and where you know little about the story. You have no expectations and no preconseived notion of what the book is going to be like. From the start of this story though, you know that nothing is going to be what it appears to be.

The story is told through the perspective of Peggy, a 8-year old who lives in North London at the beginning of the story. Both her parents have their odd ways but everything has the appearance of being quite normal. However, by the time Peggy’s father leaves their home together with Peggy you know that this is not a normal family.

On the cover of the book it says: “Every parent lies. But some lies are bigger than others.” The consequences of the lies and the hidden truths in this story is impossible to preceive as you follow Peggy’s story. And I don’t think I have ever before in my life felt a need to re-read the last two chapters just to make sure I really understood it. Did it really end the way I first read it? It’s unusual that an author writes an ending that jars with you enough that you’re not sure you can trust what you just read.

There are so many interesting themes in this book as well, but just to name them feels like I would give away too much of the story. In the end, the only thing you can be sure of is that nothing is what you preceive it to be, even up to the last sentence of the book.

 

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Poetry and Spoken Words Night

In a week, I will have done my first poetry and spoken words night. I have read my poetry in public before but this time I’m part of the organisers and will try my best to keep track of everyone else reading, not just my own pieces and time slot.

Like with all arts, it’s important go challenge yourself to go out there and let other people know that you exist. No one is going to buy your book, your art work or your music if they don’t know it’s there to be bought. In general, we want to put a face to the name. Or get a taster of what we could buy. Poetry lends itself well to being spoken, not just read. I read surprisingly little poetry myself, but often attend open mic nights for the sake of hearing other poets.

I don’t particularly enjoy doing reading of my own work. I never feel like I’m prepared enough. My weak voice don’t carry my words. I don’t give enough soul and meaning to what I’ve written. Many writers will agree with me that we are happiest in our own little bubble tapping away on your computers – or scribbling with pen and papper. Other people can fight for the lime light.

Whether you enjoy the spotlight or, like me, dread it a bit, if you are near Woolwich on May 17, we’d be happy for you to join us, just as a listener or a reader.

 

Poetry and spoken words night