Secrets and Shadows (Mary Nickson)****

Why do characters who are writers make such unappealing protagonists? You’d think I’d love them. Apart from the fact that it’s writers that produce all those books I like to read, I like writing myself, so you’d think I’d find it easy to identify with writer characters.

Usually, it doesn’t work that way. There’s something about books within a book that I struggle with. In a way, it’s a compliment to the writer of the real book. If I’m enjoying their story, I want to keep on reading it. The last thing I want to do is sit down with someone else’s book. An exception would be something like Adele Geras’ A Hidden Life, where the featured book tells you the story of a dead major character. In a way, this is not so much extracts from a book as a flashback.

So you’d think I’d hate Secrets and Shadows. It’s all about a group of people who meet on a creative writing course. At the first session, examples of work are read out, (which I suppose is one way of getting to know such very different people’s inner thoughts and experiences). After that, the writing isn’t really important. It was just a means of getting the relevant characters together.

But I will have a couple of moans while I’m here. Why did everyone have to make it so obvious that they think Louisa (although, to be fair, she does have too many talents already) isn’t a good writer? Admiration of particular writing styles is such a personal thing. I actually found Louisa’s writing much more more readable than that of Marnie, for example, who is generally seen to be good.

Also, why is there such a strong feeling that only a few of the creative writers ought to carry on writing after they leave the course? Okay, not many of them have a chance of getting published. But what does that matter?

In the first place, there are lots of bad writers who get published – being talented won’t always give you an advantage. And secondly, and most importantly, writing is first and foremost an activity to be enjoyed. It doesn’t matter if you’re Jane Austen or… well, someone who had better remain nameless because I don’t want all their fans jumping all over me, but, just to clarify, I don’t mean Mary Nickson. If you enjoy writing stories, they are worth writing. It doesn’t matter if no-one ever reads the stories. If you enjoy writing, you should write.

While I’m on the subject of writing styles, I’ll say I do like Mary Nickson’s. Her style is quite poetic, with many clauses, but is relatively easy to read. I have read some books like that where I’ve had to read sentences three times before they begin to make sense. Secrets and Shadows is not an amusing book, but it’s thrilling and exciting, and some of the relationships between the characters are wonderfully done – you can tell a lot about them from very little conversation.

Nickson is also great at characters – I love the accidentally-abrasive Marnie; Christopher with his dark secret, (which is really sympathetically presented); married couple Isobel and Giles, whose relationship is based on a genuine friendship, as well as sexual attraction. (Nickson also writes the sex bits really well: usually I either get the giggles, or feel so embarrassed I skip these bits, but Nickson’s really sensitive about it, only using it to make a point and never going into unnecessary detail.) All the characters are wonderfully distinct. It’s a shame they all dislike Stanley so much, though – I’m sure part of the reason he’s so horrible is because he’s really insecure.

Louisa seems to be, in many ways, the heroine of the book, but I couldn’t help wondering whether the book would be better without her. Her instinctive ability to socialise with anyone is definitely not something everyone can identify with, and her jealousy of some of the other characters is not presented in a particularly attractive way. Louisa has had a horribly difficult life, but that alone isn’t enough to make me like her as a character. And then, in the end, it’s difficult to know what to think. I’m not at all sure whether I believe her.

I also have problems with the presentation of Isobel’s autistic son Edward. The autism itself is beautifully done – I guessed he was autistic as soon as he was mentioned, although the term wasn’t used until some time later. It was really heartening to read that he is happy (none of that glass box crap) and that he has an imagination – a lot of people think autistics don’t have an imagination, but I can assure you we do.

However, the way Isobel kept talking sadly about Edward and how he ‘might have been’ is really quite offensive. I love Isobel, but seriously babe, forget what he might have been. Look at what he is. He is a lovely boy; very loving towards his family; very gentle with his six year old cousin; astonishingly well-adjusted. He comes home from school to find the house full of strangers, and doesn’t seem in the least worried by it. You should be proud of him.

I certainly prefer him to musical genius twin sister Amy, who seems more than a little bit conceited. But Amy is treated in a similar way: Isobel spends the whole time talking about what she ‘will be’. So what will it be like for the poor girl if she fails to make a career as a successful musician? The chances are, she won’t. There are more gifted young people in the world than there are career opportunities, especially considering Amy is a violinist. Forget what Edward might have been; forget what Amy might be going to be. It’s who they are that matters. (And Amy’s up herself, so do something about it.)

But the problems weren’t bothering me throughout the book. Edward is barely in it; even Louisa’s importance diminishes as the book continues. There is so much else to enjoy, I mostly forgot what I didn’t like, and just got on with the story.