Kathryn's Inbox

Woot! It's time once again for Feature and Follow Friday, that completely awesome meme hosted by Alison Can Read and Parajunkie that is designed to help like-minded bloggers connect and share their opinions on all things bookish. This week's all-important question is: Q: Activity! Who is your to-die-for book crush? What do you think they look like? Add an image to make us all happy. Okay, my crush is Jon Arbuckle from the Garfield comics. I mean who could resist a guy like this: Just kidding! My to-die for crush, as many of you will know already is a Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy from Jane Austen's wonderful novel, Pride and Prejudice. And I always imagined that he looked like Colin Firth, even before I saw the BBC television adaption with Colin Firth. But just because I cannot get enough of this particular individual, I'm going to post a picture: Mmm, lovely ... So who is your book related crush?

Don't get me wrong. I really enjoy using facebook. I enjoy catching up with family and friends, hearing the latest news, sharing in their successes and hoping that I can say or do something to ease the pain during troubled times. I like exchanging funny photographs, getting to know people better and a whole lot of other good things that come with the site. But with the good comes the bad, and I don't just mean repeated photographs of pets or babies doing something funny with an equally ridiculous caption to go alongside. And really, there is only so many times I can look of a photograph of Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka with a smart arsed caption underneath before I grow bored. No, this latest trifling piece of annoying is the sheer number of hoaxes and scams that I see on my newsfeed every day. (And on a related topic, my compassion is not measurable by liking or sharing a photograph of a sick child/abused animal/senior citizen being deprived of their Jim Reeves record collectio

It is eight o'clock on a Tuesday evening. And where am I right now? Sitting at my desk, watching the sun set over the tiny patch of ocean that can be seen from my window and wondering why am I still bothering to do this. By this I mean, my blog, my books, my facebook page, anything else that is even vaguely associated with writing or the written word. Or more to the point, my written words. Who am I? What am I doing, really? I slave away at this, feverishly writing, meticulously editing and doing my best to promote my work in an already saturated market, filled with indie writers, many of them far more extroverted and willing to put it all out there than I. And I cannot, simply cannot imagine life any other way. I love what I do. I love expressing my internal thoughts, fears and feelings through the written word. I love to write about the things that I have read and the things that have somehow captured my imagination. Sometimes I write to make sense of various events tha

As regular followers will know, I did a short piece on BSC character Mallory Pike recently. I've decided to follow that one up with a piece on her best friend, Jessi Ramsey. Jessica "Jessi" Ramsey was the seventh person to join the Babysitters Club (not counting associate members Logan Bruno and Shannon Kilbourne,) and first appeared in Hello Mallory as the new girl in Stoneybrook. Her family had bought Stacey McGill's old house and at first had some difficulty settling in as they were the first black family to settle in the predominantly white, middle-class Stoneybrook. (I say predominantly as the Kishi family are one notable exception.) This would later lead Jessi to falsely believe that anyone who did not like her was doing so out of racial prejudice, such as when she encounters a standoffish girl at the school winter camp. Jessi was said to be a talented ballerina who practiced in the family basement daily and took weekly lessons in Stamford. The firs

Don't ask me why I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia, because apart from a minor subplot of small social change in Ireland in the late 20th century, there is nothing terribly remarkable about this book. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that, like Naomi Campbell's Swan or Disco Daddy by Morag Prunty, I am constantly seeing copies of it inside various secondhand bookstores. (Sidenote: My uncle used to own a secondhand bookstore. He once told me that if he ever sees "that bloody Naomi Campbell book" again, he will scream.) If I recall right, I first read this one at about the time I graduated from high school. I found it on the shelves at my local Target and took it home, simply because I had exhausted the stores supply of Anne Rice and V.C. Andrews novels.  Racing the Moon tells the story of fraternal twins, Sophia and Darcy. Beautiful Sophia is almost angelic in her behaviour, Darcy is her opposite in every way. The blurb would have you believe that

A compelling study of one young woman's struggle to stand tall and do what is right in the face of adversity. Question: What book did I just review?  Answer: The Naughtiest Girl is a Monitor by Enid Blyton.  The real blurb for this one reads: When Elizabeth Allen is chosen to be a school monitor, she's delighted. But she soon finds out just what a responsible job it is. The harder she tries, the worse she behaves! Will the naughtiest girl in the school EVER learn to be good? Well before I started this blog, actually probably around the time I started reading, I discovered one inescapable truth. Book reviews are a highly subjective business. With a strong grasp of the English language and the ability to manipulate evidence to prove your argument, you can write a good or bad review on practically any book you please.  But does that make for a good book review? Of course not. The general public are not stupid. One sincere review for a novel is always goin

It is time once again for Feature and Follow Friday, a fun weekly meme hosted by Alison Can Read  and Parajunkie  which is designed to help like-minded bloggers connect and have some fun. This weeks all important (and somewhat American,) task is to feature a blog that we are thankful for. This is going to take me a mighty long time to choose, so I'm going to highlight a few blogs that I stop by regularly and think that you should check out: O E Books  always has something interesting and intelligent to discuss. Write Now  doesn't update regularly any more, but there is still much great advice to be found there for aspiring writers. Nicole Suzanne Brown  always has something interesting and encouraging to say. The Readdicts  is fast becoming one of my favourites for their great reviews. Australian Bookshelf  for consistently intelligent reviews. And I could probably go on. Feel free to share links of your favourite blogs and your Follow Fridays.

Today I'm paying tribute to one of the more ahem, troubled, members of the Babysitters Club, Mallory Pike. Although Mallory was one of the less interesting characters in the series (let's face it, she didn't wear weird clothing like Claudia did,) Babysitters Club author Ann M. Martin surprised the now grown-up fans of the series when she stated that she had no strong feelings about Mallory Pike. (Read more about it here .) But who is Mallory Pike really, and what did she contribute to the BSC? Mallory Pike debuted as a ten-year-old sitting charge in the first book in the series, Kristy's Great Idea . The oldest of eight kids, Mallory was annoyed that she still had to have a babysitter. As the series progressed, the members of the BSC released that Mallory was mature for her age and eventually asked her to help out as a junior helper at a playgroup that they established one summer. Later, after Mallory had turned eleven and Stacey left the club to return to New Y

Trip to my local suburban bookstore this weekend. Now, being an Adelaide girl, my local bookstore is actually located quite some distance from my house, but that is a sad reflection of the time and era I live in. For the past four or so years, no bookstore has existed within the confines of my local shopping centre, meaning that I have to bus it to another, much larger shopping centre in order to experience a visit to a real, bricks and mortar bookstore. (Or cement with plaster inside walls, as the case is.) Anyway, the trip itself was a bit of a disappointment. I was hoping to find a copy of the new Virginia Andrews novel Daughter of Light  so that I could read it, get mad at the crappy writing and then review it. The store had plenty of other Virginia Andrews novels in stock, including a pretty awesome looking edition of Petals on the Wind with an updated cover but, alas, there were no copies of Daughter of Light to be found anywhere. In fact, there wasn't anything else there

Just for fun, I thought that I would share an extract from my latest novella, Best Forgotten . Part 1 The Killer April 16 2010 Purse. Car keys. Textbook. Mobile. Okay, I can do this. Act cool. Pretend everything is normal. I slip on my sunglasses and dump my satchel on the front passenger seat of the Hyundai. I take a deep breath. So far, so good. It is amazing, really, just how ordinary everything seems today. Here I am, going about my morning routine like nothing strange or out of the ordinary happened last night. Like I’m still the same innocent, untainted girl who stood in this same place, at exactly this time yesterday. I wonder if anyone knows that I killed a man between now and then? I cast my eyes across the car park, just to see if anyone from the flats is out and about yet. On the other side of the fence, at the front of an old weatherboard shack, James is trying to persuade his son to get into the car so that he can go to school. ‘I do

Found this awesome image, and I just had to share. Like my favourite tubby tabby, I've never been much of a fan of Mondays and often regard the day as a shadow closing in on me. My own fear/hatred of Mondays harks all the way back to my primary school days, when I used feel physically sick as I walked inside the classroom, wondering what run-ins I'd have with that dreadful Mrs Pettingill this week. (Damn her for confiscating my special Garfield and Odie lead pencil that had the pink eraser on top. Oh well, at least I had the good sense to steal it back.) 

Just had to share another of my favourite Daria clips. As always, I love the truth in her words.

With the new VC Andrews novel Daughter of Light being released in Australia later this week I thought that now was a fitting time to review its prequel, Daughter of Darkness which was released in late 2010. Daughter of Darkness was the first V.C. Andrews novel to stray from the gothic fairytale (or Sci-Fi, if one is to count Gods of Green Mountain) theme and venture into the paranormal. And this all happened perhaps not-so-coincidentally after the release and fanfare of Twilight . And like all novels baring the V.C. Andrews name, it had an interesting concept. Three adopted daughters, all raised to find and trap bait for their adoptive father, who just happens to be a vampire. Unfortunately, all the usual plot-holes of the modern V.C. Andrews novels (think people chanting impishly, bratty/bitchy siblings who detract rather than add to the plot, weirdos with skewed sexual morals and a lack of understanding of female behaviour and conversation,) get in the way. The novel itself tel

It is time once again for Feature and Follow Friday. Hosted by Alison Can Read and Parajunkie's View, this awesome meme is designed to help us like-minded bloggers connect and talk about our favourite things--books and reading! This week's all-important question is: Q: What is a deal breaker for you in a book? For example, do you abhor love triangles? Or can't deal with bad editing? Hmm. Bad editing definitely annoys me, but if it's a great plot I'm willing to overlook it. A well-written love triangle can be a good thing, but I dislike it when the author includes one when that particular subplot isn't necessary. (I always felt the love triangle in The Hunger Games was a little unnecessary, for example. Come on, honestly what did Gale even bring to the plot, except to prove how bitter and twisted some people can be. And he had sixteen years to develop a relationship with Katniss.) Anyway, to actually answer the question, one thing that gets unde