The Ammuchi Puchi by Sharanya Manivannan and Nerina Canzi

review by Maryom


When Anjali and Aditya were very small they were a little frightened by the ghost stories told by their grandmother, Ammuchi, but as they grew up they came to love them, and join in making tales of their own. When their grandmother dies though, the whole family is left feeling sad, and not even telling her stories can make them feel better. Then something strange and maybe a little magical happens, as if Grandmother Ammuchi has come back to them as one of the ghosts from her stories.



Flicking through the Lantana Publishing catalogue, what first caught my attention about this book were Nerina Canzi's vibrant illustrations - the rich, bright colours and exotic flowers and foliage which leap out from almost every page - but then I saw that behind those attractive pictures was a story trying to make sense of something very hard for a child to understand - the death of a loved family member.

Sharanya Manivannan's words tell of two children, their love of their grandmother and their grief following her death - but suggest a way through that painful time and hold out the possibility that maybe our loved ones are always there watching over us.

Despite the subject matter, this isn't a glum, depressing book - helped no doubt by the enchanting, exuberant pictures, it comes over as joyous and full of life - and, while it will help children come to terms with their feelings of loss, I think it would also be enjoyed as 'just' a story.


The publishers suggest a reading age of 7 to 9, but the bright pictures will appeal to younger children, who could share it with a parent or older sibling.

Publisher - Lantana
genre - children's picture book, 7-9, bereavement

The Museum of You by Carys Bray

review by Maryom

Twelve year old Clover Quinn is looking for answers.

Her mother, Becky, died shortly after Clover was born, and there is so much about her that Clover doesn't know.  Although he's done his best to be both father and mother to Clover, her dad, Darren, has always been reluctant to talk about Becky. Encouraged by his friends, he's tried to move on with life, but the spare room is still full of things he intends to clear out - and in there Clover believes are clues to her mother's life, to who she really was. So this summer, the first she's been allowed to spend time at home alone, Clover intends to sort through the boxes and rubbish bags, organise the things she feels are worth keeping, and create a museum of her mother.
Darren meanwhile is fully immersed in his role of father. He tries to pre-empt all Clover's needs, from pencil cases for school, to treats to cheer her on sad days, to venturing into a bookshop to buy a book on being a woman. He's kind, caring and takes his responsibility as parent far more seriously than many do.

In this her second novel, Carys Bray again explores the relationships within a family coping with loss. Told from the alternating perspectives of Clover and Darren,The Museum of You builds a picture of a close loving father/daughter relationship which sadly still has a hole at its heart - the void left by Becky's death. Again, the family unit plays an important part in the story - but this isn't a standard 'Mum, Dad, two kids' family, but instead a looser structure with Darren and Clover at its centre and an extended family surrounding them - Darren's own rather withdrawn father, his best friend Colin, Becky's brother Jim, elderly neighbour, grandmother-substitute Mrs Mackerel, and potential girlfriend Kelly and her two boisterous boys.
In the re-tellings of her family history, Clover's birth has always been described as a surprise - and surprises come in two kinds - the good and the bad. Darren's life seems to have been filled with the latter - disrupting first the ambitious plans he had as a teenager, then the future he imagined with Becky - but even so he's kept a certain level of cheerfulness about him, whereas another man might have turned bitter and resentful. His kindness shines through in so many ways but especially in his thoughtfulness in looking after Clover and the way he's taken on the extra responsibility of caring for Becky's troubled brother Jim. At times I found myself smiling at Darren's over-eagerness to be the perfect dad, but it was always fondly and with an admiration for his efforts.
Clover herself is an independent twelve year old, seeming at times wiser than her years but still quaintly child-like in the way she goes about setting up her 'museum' and her misinterpretation of the things she chooses as exhibits.
Both were characters I grew to sympathise with and care for. The author captures the tiny details of their days - the tending of the allotment, the route Darren drives on his bus, their joint ritual of finding three happy things in each day - and brings them to life, almost ready to walk off the page.

A Song for Issy Bradley was one of my picks of the year when it came out, and I'd wondered how anyone would follow such a wonderful book, but Carys Bray has! The Museum of You is tender and compassionate, will make you laugh, maybe bring you to tears, and will have you rooting for Clover and Darren, hoping they can both find happiness and sense of completeness. In short, an absolute joy to read.



Maryom's review - 5 stars 
Publisher - Hutchinson
Genre - adult fiction, bereavement

Melissa by Jonathan Taylor

review by Maryom

When seven year old Melissa Comb dies in her home in Stoke on Trent, her neighbours all experience the same hallucination - at first a shrieking, headache-inducing noise, which makes them go into the street, followed by uplifting "old-fashioned" music, which spreads a mood of happiness and pride among them. For a short while, the inhabitants of the street come together, putting aside their differences and behaving as old friends. But soon the media move in, followed by scientists trying to pin down the cause of the phenomenon, then religious groups/new age believers set up a camp in the street, and this small part of Stoke becomes a destination for spiritual holiday tours. While all this is unfolding, the only family who DIDN'T hear anything, Melissa's own, are having to come to terms with their loss. Hiding behind their drawn curtains, the Comb family is slowly falling apart...

Melissa avoids the sensational, sentimental, and over-emotional traps and offers an unblinkered view  of a family trying to make sense of tragedy. So far, it's rather like Carys Bray's A Song For Issy Bradley , but whereas the Bradleys for all their differing opinions behave as a family, the Combs lack that cohesion and act as individuals, each filled with frustration, anger and grief. Melissa is definitely a darker yet quirkier read.
Having been the one most closely involved with Melissa's illness, her mother Lizzie is the one most prepared to pick life up, and start again, but another blow that comes through the media's interference almost floors her. Teenaged half-sister Serena doesn't know how to grieve; her mother is abroad, contributing only financially to Serena's life, and father Harry is lost in his own world since Melissa's death. Although they try their best, her friends just don't know how they can help her, and Serena is left to work things out alone. Harry, though, is the one who really can't cope. He just can't see how carrying on is possible but wishes that, like a piece of music, life would end; gradually he retreats into himself - from work, from communication with his family, from the world.

Melissa is a curious read -  it's told in a variety of styles (with snippets from newspapers and scientific journals), it's not as straightforward as you may like (starting with the musical phenomenon then moving back to Melissa's illness), and it only gradually seems to focus in on the real heart of the story - but its quirkiness appealed to me. Of course it's bleak - after all it's dealing with the death of a much-loved child, and the family's disintegration afterwards, but it's told with a sense of wry humour (particularly as regards the habits and 'goings-on' of the neighbours), and the 'coda' at the end leaves the reader feeling that, no matter what, life does carry on. 

Is it a book I'd say I loved? Well, it's too dark for that, but it's a quiet, slowly revealing story one I could read again and again.

Jonathan Taylor's earlier novel Entertaining Strangers didn't quite grab me when I first read it - too many ants among other things! - but I always felt it was a book worth re-reading. Having been so impressed with Melissa, it's time I did just that!

Maryom's review - 5 stars
Publisher - Salt Publishing
Genre - Adult literary fiction

A Song for Issy Bradley by Carys Bray

 review by Maryom

 A Song for Issy Bradley is the story of a Mormon family trying to come to terms with grief following the sudden death of their 4 year old daughter -
 - Dad, Ian, a bishop in the Mormon church finds consolation and strength through his faith. He firmly believes that he will meet Issy again in Heaven and all he must do is continue in his faith
 - Mum, Claire, who converted in order to marry him, cannot cope at all; she finds Mormon values too cold to help her. Swallowed by her overwhelming grief, she takes refuge on Issy's bunk bed and refuses to get up again.
 - Their teenage children, daughter Zippy (Zipporah) and son Alma are already struggling with their faith. They miss Issy desperately but both want to be 'normal', to be allowed to behave as their friends do. Zippy despite being a firm believer in Mormon values wants to wear fashionable clothes, go to parties and be allowed to date boys. Alma just wants to play football.
 - Only 7 year old Jacob can see a way to make everything right again - a miracle is needed to bring Issy back and he thinks he knows how to work one.

A Song for Issy Bradley is a stunning novel of death and life, faith and family, grief and hope. Knowing this was a book dealing with a child's death and the emotional impact on the family, I was half-expecting something totally depressing. It wasn't going to be like a murder-mystery where everyone achieves closure by the catching of the villain, and then gets back to their lives. This was going to be about 'real' people facing up to probably the most devastating thing that could happen to them. But as I read, I realised it wasn't going to be as devastatingly sad as I'd feared; though there are dreadfully dark moments, they're balanced with light and humour and, above all, love.

Throughout there's an amazing attention to the little things that make up life. It starts with the lead-up to Issy's death, capturing the awful ease with which a serious illness can be ignored until it's too late. The hustle and bustle of a normal day compounded by a houseful of extra children at a birthday party and Ian rushing off to help a dying church member. I found myself willing Claire to notice while there was still time to act even though I knew it was pointless.
Ian frustrated me throughout - he's always rushing around and putting others' needs before his own family's and so secure in his own faith but can't see that this isn't enough for Claire.
Teenagers always bear the brunt of any perceived 'weirdness' in their parents - and Zippy and Alma have more than an average share. Saddled with odd names, bound by the restrictions of Mormon behaviour, fitting in with their peers at school was never going to be that easy, and it isn't even possibly to argue with parents who cliam the support of God.
Jacob's faith in his miracle-working is as heart-breaking as Issy's death. He is SO confident that he can do it - with that seriousness that young children have in their approach to things - but we know it's not going to work and he's going to be devastated all over again.

 Although she's written many short stories, including a prize-winning collection, this is Carys Bray's first full length novel - and it was hard at times to believe it was a debut. Ultimately hopeful and life-affirming, this is a 'must-read' that's straight onto my Picks of the Year list.

Maryom's review - 5 stars
Publisher - Hutchinson
Genre - adult, literary fiction, bereavement

Winner of the Authors' Club First Novel Award
Shortlisted for Costa First Novel Award
Longlisted for Desmond Elliott Prize 2015 
Richard and Judy Summer2015 Book Club

Black Lake by Joanna Lane

review by Maryom

This is a story that opens with a family in crisis - Marianne has decided to fetch her daughter Kate home from boarding school, and hide out in a disused part of their rambling stately home - keeping everyone, husband John included, at bay and creating a safe haven where the world can't intrude. From this point, it backtracks to explore how the family have reached such a dreadful state of things.
Dulough (or Black Lake in English) is a mock-castle on the Donegal coast, owned and loved by generations of the Campbell family, but modern incomes don't stretch to the upkeep of old family properties. In financial desperation, John decides that the way forward is to allow the government to take over running the house and open it to the public. So the family move to a small damp cottage by the lake while visitors roam round the house and grounds - not an ideal solution and strains and stresses soon begin to tell.

Black Lake is a story of loss and a family falling apart. John's decision about the future of the house, taken without consulting his wife and children, proves to be the catalyst which brings everything tumbling down. As the story is told from varying points of view, a picture is built up of what Dulough meant to each of them and of how disoriented and adrift they felt having to leave it. The one thing none of them do though is admit any of these feelings to the other family members - instead they stumble along, barely speaking to each other, holding their feelings tight inside until something is bound to snap.
Despite the idyllic setting, and the family's deep love of their home, the dark waters of the lake, the overshadowing mountains and even the valley's name - Poison Glen, an English misinterpretation of Irish - all contribute to a brooding, foreboding atmosphere at Dulough, a feeling that tragedy is just waiting to happen.


An absorbing read and one that's bound to raise thoughts about what 'home' means, and about our ties to landscape or buildings.

Maryom's review - 4 stars
Publisher -  Tinder Press
Genre - Adult fiction, literary

Buy Black Lake from Amazon