Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

“Absolutely captivating.”
— Kirkus, starred review

“A funny and tender coming-of-age story that’s also the story of a writer finding her voice.”
— Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Rowell manages to capture both the wildly popular universe of fanfic and the inside of an 18-year-old’s head. Consider me a fangirl of this charming coming-of-age tale.”
— Entertainment Weekly

“As funny as it is embarrassing, and as charming as it is true-to-geek-life … Fangirl is a cute and poignant read for fangirls and fanboys of all ages.”
— Tor.com

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, published first in the US in 2013, is flying off the bookshelves. So much so, that after hearing about it for weeks from my course mates, I had to go to my two different local Waterstones twice before I managed to arrive on a day when they had one left in stock. Even the clerk in the shop loved it, she told me that her other half had taken her away for a romantic getaway weekend and she ignored him for half the trip just so she could finish the young adult book. 

I wrote fan fiction avidly, my whole way through secondary school, usually surrounding me and my favourite bands so when I read Rowell's book of a nerdy girl at University avidly writing her own fan fiction, on a series that sound stone loosely based on Harry Potter, I felt cool. My inner nerd shrivelled down a little and I felt cool; the nerdiness of fan fiction in Fangirl is turned into passion, talent and the unwillingness to let some of or favourite characters go.  

I enjoyed it immensely and even though my copy has gorgeous drawings by Noelle Stevenson, I couldn't help but imagine the main character Cather as the girl who first told me about the book. Her name is Grace and she reminds me entirely of Cather. In a wonderful way. 

The plot moved on quick enough so I didn't get bored and the characters are almost more loveable than my real life friends. Makes me wish I had a twin sister of my own, even if it was just to bounce ideas off. 

Next up, Paper Towns by John Green. I enjoyed The Fault In Or Stars, so I have high hopes for this one.

Warm Guns

The wooden drawer in my bedisde table came out with the sound of the trollies scraping along the frame. It was a quick sharp pull that made all the books and loose pennies slide forward with a jolt.
Under the books, I felt around in the darkness and dust until I found what I was looking for. I slid the barrel back as quietly as I could and settled the gun into the V of my right hand, all whilst my eyes were glued to the staircase in the corner of my room.
There was someone downstairs and I felt safer knowing I had my gun.

I wouldn't kill anyone, I knew that. Maybe a few warning shots and then if they started to come at me, or they were armed, I'd get him in the leg or something.
It was the middle of the night, so in my black boxers, old paint splatted t-shirt and my hair in a messy top knot, I padded down the stairs - gun out and up.
I wasn't expecting visitors.

My house is a nice house. I have a lot of books which are stacked up pretty high everywhere but aside from that it's tidy. It does however look strangely eeire with nothing but the street light coming in through the window on the landing.

As my feet crept along the carpet, I realised I had neglected my hoovering chores. Looking around the corner, gun first, I followed my bare feet across the corridor and listened at the door to the lounge. I could feel the breeze on my ankles at the crack of the door jam.
I edged the door open a little.
I felt a breeze across my face as I looked through the gap; the windows in the lounge were open.
Even thought he gun had slept unused for months now, it felt safe and warm in my hand, my palm slightly clammy against the hard grip.

Mentally, I counted down...

5

4

3

2

"Get down, I have a gun!" I shouted out into the darkness, the door swinging open. Silence.
I waited and heard nothing still. With my gun still up I flicked the lightswitch on with my elbow. The room flooded with llight and the blinds knocked against the open window.
My arms fell to my sides. I lef the window open when I was smoking in here this afternoon and must've forgotten to lock it closed again.
I did not have visitors.

The Silencing of my Lamb.

The baby screamed, and I was tired.
Screaming, screaming, screaming.
The highest pitch; the most blood curdling wail.
"I'm coming" I hissed into the darkness, knowing she wouldn't hear me nor understand.
Opening her bedroom door, the screams did not falter.
"Shh, now. Shhhh" My pleading whisper fell away into the darkness as I lifted the writhing screaming bundle to my chest and held her close.

"Shh now. Sleep. Shh my little lamb."

Screaming, screaming, screaming - I rocked her back and forwards, holding her closer and closer. I felt her gasp for breath in between screaming and still I held her closer. Her face so close to my chest. Tight.
Muffling, stifling and then nothing.
There was silence at last. Silence from the screaming.