Verdigris Deep by Frances Hardinge

How lovely to be able to tell you all about books that I have picked off the shelves.  Books whose covers have captured my imagination or whose blurbs have sparked an interest or maybe even ones I have found whilst on my daily trawls through cyberspace.

The first book I have chosen to share with you is going to be one I’ve loved.  This situation may not continue because I am not easily pleased.  I am a fickle reader who regularly launches tomes against the wall in frustration.  I may soon share a collective review of the horrors I have failed to finish. 

However, not this time. Verdigris Deep by Frances Hardinge is a joy to read.  Okay I am not her target audience (9 – 11 year olds), I’m not even close.  I miss the target by about *mumble, mumble* years.  But I’m sure I can be forgiven since I enjoyed every minute of this glorious book. 

Ryan, Josh and Chelle need their bus fare home.  An enterprising Josh encourages them to steal coins from a wishing well and their adventures begin.  The Well Witch wants revenge and gives each of them a special power in connection with their character.  The three must fulfil the wishes they have stolen in order to regain normality.  As their lives descend to ever increasing levels of horror their situation divides friendships and eventually puts lives at risk. 

The plot is exhilarating and exciting, the characters are well defined and wholly realised and the backdrop is realistic and rich.  None of these things are what defined this book for me.  What I loved most of all was the descriptive prose.  Okay, I’m a writer so it stands to reason that metaphors and images that leap of the page and almost smack you round the chops to get your attention are stimulating for me.  There may be places on occasion where there are perhaps one too many for the reader, I of course ignored that.  Instead I revelled in a narrative voice that sang music to my ears, fed pictures in glorious Technicolor direct to my brain and shoved scents right up each nostril.  My senses were electrified with writing so crisp and so distinct that I had to share with whichever of my poor children was hanging around at the time. ‘But listen to this…’ was a regular refrain as I shouted snippets of prose to retreating backs, ‘isn’t that just a wonderful way to say that…  …you’re not listening to me!’ 

I have passed Verdigris Deep onto said children and check on an hourly basis whether they have picked it up yet.  They won’t be able to resist me much longer, I can be very persuasive.