Mo Fanning - British writer and comic

Reading

My top five don’t read list for 2021

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No reading

While the world and his wife/partner/best friend with benefits is busy telling you which (non-romantic fiction) books you absolutely must read, I thought I’d look back on 2021 as the year I reduced my reading materials and write instead about things you might also like to consider no longer reading.

Emails

Reading spamWay back when, email was going to be the game changer. No longer would you need pen and paper, an envelope, a postage stamp and the services of the Post Office (other mail delivery services are available) to tell someone what you had for your lunch. Email was going to do it all for you. And faster. Often using fewer words. In 2021, I stopped reading almost every email sent my way. The only exception being my business email inbox, and even then, I stayed selective. 95% of emails addressed to me were deleted unread. We’ve got smart home security Every time it detects movement I get an email. Recently, I had sixty-seven emails about a spider.

In my (non-writing) day job, I’ve made it clear I regard emails as ‘for information only’ and if anyone needs me to do something, they should pick up the phone and call (or connect through one of the now many chat applications I’m forced to maintain). I suggest you do the same. Unsubscribe from any and every mailing list – there’s not one that ever matters (except for my lovely and increasingly rare newsletters), set up an auto-reply that lays down the law about how you won’t be doing a darn thing based on an email, so speak to me if it matters and delete every other message you get. It may help to know I have cultured the reputation of a crotchety so-and-so in the workplace, but it means I get to do actual work and make a difference.

Leaflets and junk mail

Each time I buy a magazine, I find an in-store bin and shake free all the inserts. It’s the same when one arrives through the post. 4 out of 5 dentists agree. What does the fifth one think? Brush your teeth with a lollipop. I have the most awful impulse buying habit and I realise I am the precise target of these special offers and dubious claims. It’s best I don’t see them. The same goes for any junk mail – and indeed any mail that isn’t a bill or statement or the offer to buy film rights to Rebuilding Alexandra Small. Rid yourself of the meaningless words and wasted paper. Recycle them. Save trees. And don’t get me started on petitions. They never work. I might start one: Rewrite Hamlet so his dad doesn’t die. And everyone gets two hours of their life back.

The news

Disaster headlineOne of my other dreadful habits is that I over-consume the news. I can’t sleep at night until I’ve checked at least three or four major news outlet websites. Twice. I have two settings: worried for the world and craving cheese. I realise this sort of reading means I’m setting myself up for a bad night with so much screen time exposure, but something inside me remains convinced that if I don’t keep an eye on the world, it’ll blow itself up. Putting Boris Johnson in charge of the country is a bit like employing Prince Andrew as a babysitter. Every few months, I’ve managed to swear myself off and take what I call a news blackout. I refuse to listen to, read or talk about the news for two whole weeks. These are the good weeks where writing happens, the house gets a spring clean and I sleep like an overfed baby. I also realise I should do this more often or ration my intake. I could give it up tomorrow. It’s no big deal. Honest.

Warning labels on medicines

I am a hypochondriac. There, I admitted it. I am the sort of person who’d take a broad spectrum antibiotic as his desert island disc luxury item. There’s little more beloved of my sort of people than reading those little folded up sheets of paper written by lawyers that come with every pill or potion you buy or collect from a pharmacy. It’s not the ‘may cause death’ thing that bothers me. So can eating pizza. It’s the rare side effects that I home in on and within days convince myself I have at least half. COVID-19 has been huge in my head. Even bigger than in the real world. With each new variant, there’s a list of revised symptoms and I get them all. I’ve worked my way through many a box of self tests. The inside of my nose must be squeaky clean from regular use of cotton buds. This needs to end. Now.

BTL

Daily Mail BTL typicalBelow-the-line comments. Often found on newspaper websites, but also the same sort of content makes up 99.9% of Twitter. It’s like glimpsing the soiled underwear of a nation. These are people who lost their teeth to Mountain Dew. The Daily Mail website is like someone put Mein Kampf on shuffle. It’s the home of the stupid.

Under recipes, you find gems like: “This was NOT GOOD. I didn’t have eggs, so I substituted jalepeños and the batter wouldn’t hold. Also, I was out of white sugar so I substituted anthrax. Hubby died! But so did my stepson, who I hated. 2 stars.”. Before memes there were bumper stickers. Before that was the renaissance or some shit. I posted, ‘Hey everyone what’s your favourite doughnut?‘ It took just under a minute for superwowgirl77 to reply ‘I can only dream of them as unfortunately I am a celiac.‘ People weighed in, some to argue she was missing out, some to call her a killjoy, then the tide turned I became the evil one. I was cancelled.

2020: That was the year that was

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2020 - a view from my writing room
A view from my writing room

So, how’s about that 2020, then? It’s been a LONG twelve months. I’m going to avoid the elephant doing tricks on a beach ball in the corner of my writing room and stick to events non-Covid.

Why am I even bothering to tell you this? Because 2020 is a year I want to file away and not always for the worst of reasons – though let’s start with that. Things can only get better.

New Year’s Eve 2019 brought a phone call from The Royal Sussex Hospital for Mr Fanning. Something about how his previous test results somehow ‘got lost’, and would he come in urgently as the doctors spotted precancerous cells in his throat. If ever there came a clue as to the year that would follow… He’s now on every kind of medicine and in a ‘wait and worry’ non-critical state, but the fear sits in my mind, waiting to pounce.

A week earlier another hospital had called to say they’d admitted my mother. But not to fret, she’d be fine. On 15 February, my world suffered a huge blow as she passed away. On the bright side, she got great palliative care once free of the undignified horrors inflicted by Russells Hall Hospital; something she would never have received if Covid moved faster.

My regular cancer check-ups continued, and the powers that be decided my likely benign brain tumour could stay as it is. I’m still not sure I’ve dealt with this.

Big Girl Small Town - 2020 Book of the Year2020 Reading

Reading remained a constant pleasure. I devoured some great books in 2020. Jane Fallon always features on my year-end list. ‘Queen Bee’ was no exception. I got through it in days and revisited the story twice more. Kirsten Johnson’s ‘Guts’ turned into a gripping read and helped me sort out the mind of the lead character in my next novel. Richard Osman delighted me with ‘The Thursday Murder Club’ and if you haven’t already dipped your toe, can I recommend Lesley Manville’s Audible reading. A special mention for ‘The Wrong Knickers’ by Bryony Gordon and my absolute novel of the year (if not decade) ‘Big Girl, Small Town’ by Michelle Gallen.

2020 Writing

I Zoomed my way into two writing workshops this year. One from sitcom supremo Bennett Arron and the other my God of Comedy Logan Murray. I made online friends with some brilliant writers from the latter, and although I’ve been incredibly lazy about staying in touch, I plan to do more on that front. Their talent leaves me in awe.

Rebuilding Alexandra SmallRebuilding Alexandra Small by Mo Fanning finally came together after years of dithering under different titles and my putting writing off until my head was ready. I’m still not sure it is, but I need to move on. So many new ideas are clamouring for air. I might do a Kate Bush and stun you with two in one year in 2021. Though I probably won’t. Don’t hold your breath. It’s bad for you.

Standup took a backseat and is likely to remain thus. With Tier 4 looking set to settle awhile, pubs and clubs are shut, and as a novice, the online world provides nothing useful in the way of feedback. You can’t feel how well a joke lands in a virtual comedy show, given the audience are mostly other comics waiting to do their bit. I haven’t closed the door on this forever and am recording jokes for future use, but I know that if I revive things, it has to be a cold start. I must treat stand-up comedy like I’m a total newcomer with zero stage experience if I’m to get this right.

2020 Vision

And that’s been my year. I’ve moved from Brighton to the Black Country, though not fully. I gained a garden and a dedicated writing room. All my books came out in new covers and (to my surprise) sold well despite their age. Coming soon ‘Rebuilding Alexandra Small’ and if you’re up for reading advance chapters and special offers, please join my mailing list.

The first TEN people to sign up will be sent a Kindle version of ‘The Armchair Bride’ absolutely FREE.

Rebuilding Alexandra Small will be published in 2021. The Armchair Bride is now available now from all good websites and bookstores. If you’d like to support my work, consider using Patreon.

My top six books of 2018

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I’ve read many books this year. I toyed with picking my top five just before the tree went up, and then my pedantic partner pointed out two weeks remained of the year. I could easily read a book or two more. And he was right. I did. One absolutely dire (it’s topping best seller lists even now), the other a zinger and featured below.

As you read this, I’ll be ironing my pyjamas and checking every few minutes we’ve enough milk, given the shops might shut tomorrow. It’s anti-party central at the Fanning home. I might even find my first book for next year.

Six titles really stuck in my mind this year, and I’d like to recommend them if you’re shopping around for something to read while Jools Holland keeps his mates in appearance fees. Keep in mind, I’m (un)fashionably late to any party, so none of these are likely to be found on the hot new title displays in your local bookshop.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely FineElinor Oliphant is completely fine – Gail Honeyman

I’d heard so much about Gail’s debut novel. Not only did it win dusty fusty awards, but normal people seemed to like it too – and rarely do the two things happen. It’s while since I found myself gripped from the first chapter. When I found Elinor, I was struggling to finish any book. I’d been through the old cancer thing and convinced myself the drugs pumped into me would lead my mind giving up the ghost. (And yes, I do tend to grandstand the personal anguish). Gail Honeyman wrote a book that kicked my reading head back into shape and for that I can never thank her enough. Elinor is a fascinating woman. I see a lot of workplace me in her. Watching her evolve from someone bewildered by the sudden speed and impersonal conventions of society into someone who finds her way to fit in proved fascinating. I could cringe with recognition one minute, be angry with her (and me) the next and then disarmed by her kindness. This is a rare book. I’d take it to any desert island. And so should you.

Promising young womenPromising young women – Caroline O’Donoghue

The opening chapters suggested this to be a light and frothy slice of women’s commercial fiction. Well-written but not one I’d remember. Because I didn’t bother with Caroline’s supporting interviews or think pieces, I was in no way prepared for the depths the story plumbed as more layers of dignity were ripped from Jane Peters. I don’t want to spoil things for anyone, so I won’t reveal more, but ‘Promising Young Women’ swings from one place to another with no hint of a warning. And my feelings for Jane changed too. This book kept me awake late at night, promising myself one more chapter. I can’t wait for what Caroline does next.

The CactusThe cactus – Sarah Haywood

I sort of held off on this one, feeling it might be too much like Elinor Oliphant, and in doing so, nearly missed out on adding this to my year-end list. Susan Green isn’t your typical cat hair, furry booted crotchety office knitter. She doesn’t even seem to know who she is or how she fits in. There’s intrigue in knowing who put such an old and careful head on these shoulders. As prickly as you might expect from the title, it’s only when something in her life gradually becomes tangible, that the walls shift. And the ending packs a powerful but satisfying punch.

Friend RequestFriend request – Laura Marshall

This title was already past its hype period when someone told me I had to read it. The period detail was spot on and stirred in me visceral hate for social media as it turned the torch on the damage caused by childhood bullies. Add in a cracking whodunnit story line and you’ve something that’s hard to put down. Despite the raw subject matter, Laura’s writing stayed warm and entirely accessible. The ending felt satisfying – if a teeny tiny bit over-signposted. It’s a quick read, but well worth your while. Laura’s new book actually came out this year and it’s on my ‘to read’ list for 2019.

After you’d gone – Maggie O’Farrell

This is one of the oldest books I picked up this year. I’d heard of Maggie, but never quite found the time or space to read her. Thanks to the literary awards piled on her plate, I suspected I might find her words overwrought. ‘After you’d gone’ is a stark and incredible read. I raced through it unable to stop. I went on and read ‘My lover’s lover’ right after and found it a huge letdown, but it won’t put me off reading more from her. In fact I already dipped my toe in ‘Esme Lennox” (that sounded better in my head than it does now) and it’s the next cab off my reading rank.

The Break – Marian Keyes

There’s something so dependable about any book by Marian Keyes. Before I pick it up, I know I’ll identify with at least one of her characters. I know I’ll smile. I suspect at some point I’ll be thrown by the depths of despair that rises from an otherwise ordinary event. ‘The Break’ didn’t disappoint. If anything, it’s one of her strongest tales. Beautifully written, with characters that used a new economy of words – but don’t worry that doesn’t make it feel any the less Marian. She might not pump the books out so much these days, but every title is worth the wait. Why isn’t she compulsory reading at every school in every land?

The Armchair Bride