Some Kind of Fairy Tale by Graham Joyce
Saturday. Rain is dumping from the heavens. I have a good book, an empty house, no obligations. Sabbath. I make a breakfast bagel, peel a tangerine, settle in a chair.
Occasionally I arise to make more food, shuffle laundry, noodle on the piano, walk the dog. I do this not only to keep from cramping, to give my eyes a break, but also to extend the pleasure. It’s tempting to read this book in one greedy gulp, but then it would be over.
The set up of Some Kind of Fairy Tale is that a young teen, Tara, disappears in the woods. The things you’d expect to happen do: searches, police, boyfriend suspect. Then she returns, 20 years later. Only she’s still a teen. She says that she was taken by fairies. Not that she calls them fairies. They wouldn’t like that. The things you’d expect to happen do: parents and sibling responses, psychiatrists, doctors, boyfriend. . .
It is a compelling, mult-ilayered book. A stealth book. Not squeaky clean. Some language and sexuality as the movie biz says. Still, a well written look at how people believe. Or don’t. Terrific.
Now it's over. Sigh. For a bit in there I was afraid it would end badly, but it didn’t. Graham Joyce brought it home. What a gift. I would write him a lovely letter, but he up and died two years ago. I’ll have to wait til the great crossing to give my appreciation. What else has he written?
One of the loveliest things about The Word Shop is the way books pass from hand to hand. “I think you'd like this,” Carol had said, giving me the book. I did. She’s in our First Tuesday Writers Group. You could be too.
Meanwhile, the Literary Party theme this month is Trashy Books. As in," one man’s trash is another man's treasure." Some Kind of Fairy Tale doesn’t qualify.
"When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract positive thinking." – Albert Einstein