A few days ago I went to Louisa McCormack's book launch for The Catch, the followup to her fab debut novel, Six Weeks to Toxic.
Louisa is positively lovely and full of energy and the launch at Type Books was great fun, filled with Chippy's chips, and prizes (!) such as lobster soap and lobster gummies and lobster earrings. And who doesn't love a kitschy prize? (I love any sort of prize, kitsch or not, actually).
The Catch takes place mostly in PEI, where Louisa's also living at the moment (and where she was living while writing the book), yes, with Anne. Anne Shirley. That's all I'm going to say about the plot, because if you want more you can go here or here or here. I hate spoiling a plot and since I don't even read the backs of books because they spoil it too much for me, I would only be able to tell you what I've read so far, which is about one-third of the book. So far, so, so excellent. Louisa does an impeccable job of capturing the essence of PEI - so that if you've never been, it's like you're on a little getaway, and if you're from the east coast, it might feel like a little piece of home (not that I'm generalizing that all east coast towns in all east coast provinces and states feel the same...!).
Speaking of the east coast in all its generality (because actually, I'm not quite sure where on the east coast this next place is...), I'm putting The Catch on hold for one week because next weekend we're trading turkey for tides and stuffing for sand and spending Thanksgiving in Cape Cod. I've never been* but in my head I expect it to romantic** and wispy and windy and lovely and I think that The Catch will make for a perfect literary soundtrack to the long weekend away. Bring on the argyle and scarves!
Want to win your own copy of The Catch? More is having a contest. Good luck!
* When I told my dad I was going to Cape Cod and had never been, he said "Yes, you have..." Oh. Oops! Apparently, I was the babe in tow when he and my mom still thought camping was a vacation. That lasted until I was about two, at which point they swapped sleeping bags for actual sleep in a bed inside, out of the rain, and promptly passed both their camping equipment on to friends and the anti-camping gene on to me (for which I'm grateful, actually, even though I'm positive it's because I don't camp that I don't like beer). So although I HAVE been to Cape Cod, Daddy-O, I don't exactly remember it. Whatever, we'll call it a homecoming.
** Mostly I chose Cape Cod because it seemed romantic (ahhh... The Cape) and also because the Ghost Hunters found some haunted houses there (and I love a good haunting). But I actually don't know anything about the Cape or what to do there. Any ideas? Send them to me and I'll bring you back something lobster-like!