Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman (33)

Neil Gaiman is a thorough but interesting descriptor of setting and characters' thoughts. I watched the miniseries of Neverwhere that Gaiman wrote for the BBC in '96. Even ignoring the ambivalent acting, the Neverwhere TV series was flat without the constant inner monologues and strange, sometimes disgusting details.

In the novel, Gaiman created a world of life and death existing beneath our relatively safe one. He has a talent for writing repulsive gore, sympathetic and awkward heroes, and twisty adventures. I love tales of salvific journeys and renaissance revenge. There is something primal about the modern reader's yearning for medieval stories of violence and mystical experiences.

Neverwhere is not just empty enjoyment. It prompts some pondering over our cities' real underworlds. The London Below in this novel comprises the forgotten, the invisible, the outcasts, who normal people from London Above can't see. Gaiman's protagonist responds personally to an injured girl from London Below while his fiancee walks past in a hurry to dinner. Thought he fights and sojourns, and often whines and seems pathetic, Richard becomes the hero of the novel after this one small decision.

Copywriting: Successful Writing for Design, Advetising and Marketing by Mark Shaw (32)

Mark Shaw's Copywriting is pretty obviously a manual on how to write good copy for commercial purposes. The text is long, the font is tiny, and could it be any more conspicuous to read on the train (the cover is neon yellow in real life), but it was very helpful and a good start.

The best bits of this book were the examples of successful brands, including lovely photos of the products, and the interviews with copywriters and editors. I love that advertising funnels creativity in a way that can really birth something beautiful and intriguing. We all know good ads and good copy when we see them. I want to be able to know what is good before seeing it written by someone else.

Tinkers by Paul Harding (31)

Tinkers is the story of a family. The first (but also last) patriarch is George, who is dying. His family gathers around him as he fades away, hallucinates and experiences the last epileptic seizures of his life. It is a sweet and sad picture of a family as George's grandchildren read to him and shave his stubble and he recalls pieces of his life but is unable to speak and share them.

The omniscient, lyrical narrator alternates from George's death bed to his childhood home and his father, Howard. George tinkered with clocks in his retirement. Howard was a tinker by trade, fixing household items and selling wares from a mule-drawn wagon through the forests and farms. The reader also hears bits about Howard's father, a country preacher who wrote beautifully but was a bore at the pulpit. The families are different and fascinating. Epilepsy is hereditary and each generation reacts differently. Despite medical advances, the seizures are still shocking and sometimes frightening for the men who suffer from it and their loved ones.

The book is honest poetry. Sometimes Paul Harding's language is the cold meter of the cosmos, sometimes the warm and comforting rhyme of the grass and sunshine. I was lost in Harding's wandering poetic musings and detailed descriptions of clocks and tinkery items. It's been a while since I've read something written with such care.