Tag Archives: mental health

Meeting old friends again

I’ve been knee-deep in a very sticky first draft for most of this week (second-book syndrome; it has been kicking my backside), so reading time has been limited. Imagine my joy on Thursday evening when I finally got to write the magical words “The End”!

Cover of Olivia Wildenstein's The MasterkeyAfter that stress and strain, I was delighted to relax with Olivia Wildenstein’s The Masterkey. I love Olivia’s writing and was thrilled to find another book in the series. I read The Masterpiecers and The Masterminds a while ago now, and I think The Masterkey, although set chronologically earlier than the others, is a new addition to the world. It’s also utterly fabulous. The Masterkey focuses on Aster, Masterpiecer Ivy’s twin sister. Aster is heartbreakingly lovely and damaged, and Josh is simply a poppet (probably don’t tell him; he might not be flattered).

I’ve mentioned before my perception that everything’s part of a series now, and yes, sometimes that’s annoying, but The Masterkey reminded me that it can be a really good thing. As a reader, when you find a world you enjoy, you want to spend more time there. I know it felt like a real treat to get back with Ivy and Aster again. So now I’ve got the opposite problem of being sad that there isn’t more to read about them – never happy us readers, are we?

G is for … Gorgeous Goldfish

This was recommended to me the significant 12-year-old in my life, and I – a YA-loving adult – utterly fell in love with it.

goldfish-boy-cover

Diverse writing and writing about mental illness is “on trend” right now (a good thing, imo), and The Goldfish Boy deserves all the success it gets. It’s a very convincing account of a boy with OCD. I especially loved (and ached for) the moments when he could see how ridiculous his behaviour was – but that insight wasn’t enough to enable him to stop it. Also fabulous was the way the cast of characters reflected what a very wide range there is within the “normal” label. Difference is all around and nothing to be feared here.

The highest accolade I can ever give a book is when it engages my involuntary emotions – when I laugh or cry or gasp. The Goldfish Boy did so. Matty is heartbreaking, without becoming an object of pity.

This has set the bar high for my next read – check in next week to see what I’ve found for my ‘H’ read.