Current Delights and Distractions in Genre Fiction

Well, I have promised the start of a long Dickens reading marathon, beginning with his earliest published serial novel, but I confess that my current novel-in-progress, and a couple in gestation, have led me down the rabbit hole of genre reading. (But I almost always have some Dickens reading or listening in the works anyway, and I have indeed restarted Pickwick, which always “illumines the gloom” of daily life!)

 

The Gothic…

My own work-in-revision-process is what I’d call a modern-gothic ~ and I’ve been told it’s essentially “a modern gothic romance,” but don’t ask me why I keep resisting the R-word ~ so of course I’ve been reading some congruous works. Most recently, Ruth Ware’s The Death of Mrs. Westaway, which, although not one I’ll necessarily return to for a reread, was a diverting way to spend a few lamplit evenings, with all of the du Maurieresque gothic tropes I enjoy: the unexpected inheritance, the down-and-out young heroine, the creepy estate, the twisted family secrets, the coastal setting. My main source of disappointment was that, for such a lonely heroine, there was not a stronger developing relationship to cling to as it went on. I’m not talking a romantic relationship, or not necessarily. (She needed a real friend…someone, anyone!) And honestly, it’s often the lack of a strong relationship that will keep me from picking up something again, as hopeless a rereader as I am.

 

The Mystery…

And, of course, I have to return to the mystery genre. (Two of my secondary characters in the current WIP have a backstory that involves a murder investigation, but do I really need that excuse? No way.) I’m hooked on Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad series, and recently finished  the audiobooks of The Likeness and Faithful Place (Nos. two and three in the series) and have just begun the fourth, Broken Harbor. (This will have to be a separate post of its own…)

 

YA Fantasy/Alternate History…

But I’ve also been prepping to go down the path of YA fiction in my future writing, whether or not I decide to take that turn in the revision process of my current WIP (in spite of some congruent elements). One way or another, at least 2 of my upcoming projects are absolutely made for a YA audience. So I’ve been getting distracted by the Grishaverse trilogy starting with Shadow and Bone, finishing it about a day and a half after starting, in spite of my writing and class commitments, in anticipation of the Netflix series premiering on April 23rd. It’s a page-turning, bingeworthy read. (And this Darkling…oh my. I do love a good baddie!) Naturally, I have the second and third books now, ready to start.

But really, the fact that all these genres have interest for me in my mad writing ventures, is incidental; it’s honestly nothing more than an excuse to get back to reading my guilty pleasures, especially now that my work schedule is more forgiving.

More soon. Happy reading!

On Rereading Dickens in 2021

There is something comforting in those new beginnings which feel like circling back round to something familiar. (Perhaps the rollout, albeit slow, of the vaccine, combined with the respite from daily/hourly fears of what strange new occurrence will emerge from the White House has something to do with it…? Some hope, perhaps, that a sort of “normalcy” will resume?) In any case, I’ve found that, in the midst of going back to reading Dickens’ biographies (currently, those of Michael Slater and John Forster), and reading/rereading those works of Boz that I’m less familiar with (notably, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, thanks to Dr. Pete Orford’s book on its various solutions and resolutions ~ and what fun to contribute to the solutions with a version of the Bernie’s Mittens meme), makes me long to have a more integrated, concentrated, and systematic approach to rereading Boz in the coming year.

Bernie as Dick Datchery? One of the mysteries of Edwin Drood SOLVED…?

Why do I feel the need to go back and reread everything in this way? I really don’t know. I feel like there is a Wellerism, or something like it, that I should have to hand here as a quippy response/explanation ~ but I really don’t know.

Having read all Dickens’ novels, some many many times over, I realize that my first read for each of them came at such different periods of time, in such a random fashion and in different frames of mind, that I find I keep going back to the same few ~ again and again. Whereas others, only once ~ and a long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away).

I call the former category my “Tier 1” of Dickens novels ~ not necessarily the “best” of his, but the ones that, for whatever reason, I have an itch to keep going back to: A Tale of Two Cities, The Pickwick Papers, and Little Dorrit. (I’ve read or listened to an unabridged audio of A Tale of Two Cities at least twenty times.)

Tier 2 would probably be: Dombey and Son, Our Mutual Friend, and Bleak House.

Tier 3, perhaps: David Copperfield, Nicholas Nickleby, and The Old Curiosity Shop.

Tier 4: Martin Chuzzlewit, The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

Tier 5 (and, yes, those I seem to go back to least, are some of his most known and most-often read): Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, Hard Times, and Barnaby Rudge.

Being less familiar also with his non-serial-novel works, I am looking forward to reading Pictures from Italy (1846) and American Notes (1842). I’m looking forward to attending a virtual lecture on the former in May, part of the Dickens Fellowship “programme” for 2021. (Yes, in my geekiness I’m a proud card-carrying member of the DF now. But there are so few lectures that a poor working gal can attend due to the time difference and work schedule! In this case, however, there’s enough time and motivation to schedule someone to cover me at work, and in true nerdy style, why not make a vacation day of it?)

But I have an odd fancy, as the new year is underway (and in spite of various other writing/research projects, my novel, work, and various fascinations) to reread all of Dickens’ major works in the order in which he wrote them, while at the same time, slowly, rereading one of my favorite books: Peter Ackroyd’s biography of Dickens.

This method of rereading presents a few choices to be made, as so many works were written with an overlapping timeline ~ Dickens would be working on finishing one piece while beginning another. I’ll probably opt for reading them in the order in which the serialization began. So, Pickwick having been started before Oliver Twist, I’d start with Pickwick, for example; and Barnaby Rudge wouldn’t begin serialization until four years later, though Dickens had been planning, considering, and promising it to publishers quite early on.

Anyhow, I suppose it can’t hurt to give it a go. All I know is, the spirit of the one and only Dickens continues to haunt me (pleasantly, of course), and I feel that this is the year ~ a hopeful year ~ to make it happen.