The Craft Room
by Dave Holwill

Goodreads

 

Sylvia Blackwell is tired. Her grandchildren are being kept away from her, and the expected inheritance that might finally get her middle-aged son to move out has failed to materialize – thanks to her mother’s cat. It is becoming increasingly difficult to remain composed. On a romantic clifftop walk for her 47th Wedding Anniversary, an unexpected opportunity leads to a momentous decision that will irretrievably change the course of her life.

The Craft Room is a darkly comic tale of sex, crepe paper, murder and knitting in a sleepy Devon town, with a ‘truly original’ premise and genuinely jaw-dropping moments. What would you do if unexpectedly freed from bondage you never knew you were in? How would your children cope? How far would you go to protect them from an uncomfortable truth? You can only push a grandmother so far…

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

His back prevented him from doing any heavy lifting (though not from swinging golf clubs or working on his vintage Aston Martin) so he was acting as driver, organiser and supervisor. He decided to exercise his supervisory skills, straightened his tie in the mirror, and hopped out again to rally the team. An hour of encouraging sarcasm, withering looks and occasional shouts of ‘come on!’ later, the van was loaded and they headed off… He made the best of it, helping them along with encouraging remarks like, ‘careful those stringy arms of yours don’t come out of their sockets son,’ and, ‘I think your mother’ll have to carry this one, it’s probably a bit heavy for you.’

 

‘It’s almost funny you know,’ Ron said, as the silence grew oppressive, ‘we probably won’t be out of debt now until one of us dies!’ ‘Ron!’ Sylvia exclaimed, ‘you shouldn’t even joke about that.’ She tried not to overdo her shock – in case Ron realised she had already started work on his eulogy.

 

Those people were incredibly dull, and refused to accept that Batman: Year One is credible literature – bloody snobs… I wanted to love that book group Frank, I have read all the Hardy Boys mysteries, did they care?

 

… looking at the sad, impaled remains of what to him would always be a tweedy, waist-coated, wise old friend (rather than a big, vicious bastard that would bite your hand off if you stuck it in the wrong hedge). Don was not really a country boy at heart, and his only experience with wildlife came from books and cartoons.

 

My Review:

 

This book and its main character were superbly crafty, in every sense of the word. Laced with wry wit and wickedly clever humor, this cunningly observant and insightfully written book was found treasure. I am having a hard time classifying the genre beyond literary fiction. The storylines were highly entertaining, well integrated and smartly paced.   While the narrative was skillfully written and slyly amusing, the humor was dark, furtively devious, and brilliantly stealthy. The pace was slow yet pleasantly relaxing while secrets were gradually uncovered and the body count quietly ticked up.

 

I relished this well-honed book from start to finish. The characters were well-drawn, fascinatingly flawed, and rather loathsome, even the ones I admired or pitied the most. Yet I was captivated and my curiosity was on red button high alert. I took great delight in the author’s artful handling of the inner musings of the undetected and repressed sociopathic characteristics of Sylvia.   Sylvia was the craftiest of the crafters, a dependable and stalwart community participant and longtime Sunday School teacher who had diligently plotted and schemed  while she  labored tirelessly to maintain her position as the reigning community queen bee for decades – until her latest entry was ranked as second place. Gasp! This painful slight seemed to signal the turning of the tide for Sylvia as her patience, and apparently, her conscience had worn thin. Soon thereafter, she seemed to be uncannily present during a series of accidental deaths. Not all of which were her fault, although she nimbly and resourcefully may have hastened them, just a bit.

 

Author Bio

Dave Holwill was born in Guildford in 1977 and quickly decided that he preferred the Westcountry – moving to Devon in 1983 (with some input from his parents).
After an expensive (and possibly wasted) education there, he has worked variously as a postman, a framer, and a print department manager (though if you are the only person in the department then can you really be called a manager?) all whilst continuing to play in every kind of band imaginable on most instruments you can think of.

His debut novel, Weekend Rockstars, was published in August 2016 to favorable reviews and his second The Craft Room (a very dark comedy concerning death through misadventure) came out in August 2017. He is currently in editing hell with the third.

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