What Are You Like

‘Sadie had stepped out of her comfort zone but it was cold out there so she went back in.’


What Are You Like published by Postbox Press, the literary fiction imprint of Red Squirrel Press.

Shelley Day’s debut novel The Confession of Stella Moon published in 2014 took on challenging subject. A killer released from prison had returned home to a decaying, deserted boarding house choked with weeds and foreboding. Memories of strange rituals, gruesome secrets and shame hang heavy in the air, exerting a brooding power over young Stella Moon. She was eager to restart her life but first had to confront the ghosts of her macabre family history and her own shocking crime. All seemed ambiguous as guilt, paranoia and manipulation spun a tangled web of truth and lies. Stella Moon was certain of only one thing: that she had killed her own mother.

The psychological aspects and darkness of mind weave their way into the collection of short stories aptly titled What Are You Like where Stella appears again. But is she the same person? The interlinked vivid tales are akin to tiny gems, all individually polished and shiny and separate in their own right yet fitting perfectly together, creating an unusual exploration of themes close to anyone’s heart: love, loss, family, friendship. As the author continues to travel through time, social attitudes and own reflections on life and world, various voices enter and add to the intricate unforgettable portraits of situations and emotions. Such as the complex relationship between two ‘chalk and cheese’ sisters Sadie and Cara and that incomprehensive untamed monster of depression that engulfs one of them:

‘I used to wonder whether blood actually was thicker than water. Because when you think of it, families are where shit happens. I mean that seriously, you’ve more likely to be murdered by in your family than in some dark alleyway, more likely to be killed by a rello than by a deranged stranger. I mean blood can literally be blood.’

Deftly rendered thoughts and images bring a strong sense of various Norwegian and North England’s locations, detailed depictions of distinctive areas, and the dialects representative of social groups. Imaginative miniature visual masterpieces surprise with metaphors: ‘And once again the bag is packed; there, on the floor, it gapes its wound, its innards spilling out. Or vulval, it’s private parts exposed to my current indecision.’

Some of the stories set in Norway show deep passion for the generosity and inspiration of the landscape, changing seasons and the enteral power of nature. My favourite tale must be Svarverkjær which is a delicate yet compelling stunning love story between a small wooden house named Svarverkjær and the Elk; story about passage of time, of natural cycles of nature; of care and understanding how humans, animals and objects fit within the specific environment. It is touching and moving and so sensitively drawn you can sense the sunshine, hear the rain on the decrepit roof, tremble in the freezing cold, and taste the memories of summer just as the Elk eats the fallen apples and the old house worries about the huge majestic animal losing its status in the ancient forest. Pure poetry!

From her prose you can glean the way Shelley Day feels about the eternal want for learning from the greats and their mastery of words, her passion for language and its mysteries. To slightly paraphrase her own writing: ‘You always like to re-read on holiday because a different time a different place makes the words entirely new’, this collection will be calling you back.

One thought on “What Are You Like

Leave a Reply to bertyboy123 Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s