Wednesday, 25 June 2025

We Can’t All Be Astronauts, Tim Clare

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In Clare’s debut book, we follow him on his journey to publication. His friends are all excelling, getting book deals, sometimes hugely lucrative ones, and he’s the only one that doesn’t seem to be succeeding in the craft he has convinced himself is his destiny. As he repeatedly reminds himself and us, he has leaned so heavily into this dream that he really isn’t qualified for anything else. Living with his parents after a relationship breakdown, he descends into a pit of depression, horribly jealous of his friends’ successes and tired of hearing about their latest wins. With a book launch party on the near horizon he gives himself an ultimatum - get a book deal or quit trying. The very fact you’re reading a published book penned by him gives you a clue as to how it will end, but the journey is an interesting one.

In his attempts to break into the seemingly exclusive world of publishing he finds himself heading up a show for Channel 4 in which he has to carry out such ridiculous activities as handing out blank pieces of paper pretending they are promotional material for his book, even to those who might be interested in the book, and practically stalking those with power in the industry. It is cringeworthy stuff but also reveals the vulnerability of those who take part in such endeavours. Desperate to make a name for himself he feels compelled to go along with the schemes, big names feigning interest for the cameras, only to be left out in the cold once the crew have gone home. Later, we see him awkwardly shuffling around the London Book Fair, pretending to be a publisher in the hope of getting at its beating heart. All he really discovers is that the practicalities of the deals are quite boring, and that there are many more deluded authors out there just as desperate for success as him. It sobers him, realising all the passion and enthusiasm in the world doesn’t necessarily mean you will have success.


Indeed, in the many conversations he has with writers, publishers, and TV producers influencing the world to read different books, he doesn’t get the golden nugget he’s seeking to make everything clear to him. Writers talk about how difficult it is, how you can have had many books published but still need a day job, those working in the book industry often seem to have had some aspirations to write themselves, but for many it becomes a burden and they choose to stop pursuing it. Those he imagined to be hard-nosed business people end up being lovely. There is a remarkable amount of generosity with people’s willingness to talk to him and share their experiences. On a more personal level, although retaining his jealousies of his friends for the most part, when he visits them at Edinburgh Fringe he does have a moment of realisation that they’re all working really hard for not much reward, that they’re all on the same journey and there’s nothing wrong with being a few steps behind.


It feels almost unbelievable at times that all his friends are becoming published, that all these bigwigs will give him time to discuss publishing and the author’s journey, that he gets away with some of his more outrageous schemes. He doesn’t shy away from his less admirable moments. He is honest about the shallowness of jealousy, of the feelings of failure, but also acknowledges that he is lucky to have good family and friends, a home, and the luxury to explore his dreams. For any aspiring writers this is a realistic exploration of the struggles of authorship, of the myth of the Big Author, and that sometimes you need honest feedback, not just simpering encouragement. 


The main section of the book ends with the launch party, with him having gained some perspective and a greater appreciation for the people around him. It feels like a satisfying ending, and then we are given an epilogue to explain how the book came into being. Curiosity is only vaguely satisfied with this as the matter is dealt with fairly swiftly, the bulk of this final section being a moving account of his final visit to his Pa and a reflection on how brilliant his parents are. 


An interesting read by an author who is willing to put his worst face forward in the name of authorial integrity. This honesty makes him relatable; we’ve all had unadmirable thoughts and felt jealous of those who seem to be living the life we want. Many will also relate to the feeling that they’ve found exactly what they want to do with their life, the trouble is getting someone to agree to pay you to spend your days doing it. This is not an aspirational, rags to riches story, but one in which Clare grafts, puts himself in excruciating situations, and is swayed by success away from writing people enjoy to overly pretentious prose which nobody wants to read. It is, in some ways, a coming of age tale for those in the difficult post-graduation years trying to find a path through life. 


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Tuesday, 17 June 2025

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

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Kundera’s famous novel opens with a discussion of philosophy - Nietzsche’s thought experiment of the Eternal Return in which he questions how you’d react if every moment of your life, every decision you made, would be repeated ad infinitum. He goes on to explore the idea of lightness and weight. Does the fact that we know our lives don’t repeat, that we will never be able to make the same decision again, or know what would have happened if we had done the opposite, mean that our lives are meaningless? This might seem a heavy subject for a book, and certainly the setting of it, the Prague Spring of 1968 in which the Soviet Union invaded then Czechoslovakia, adds additional heaviness, but it is not as dense as this might suggest. We meet a host of characters trying to navigate life in difficult circumstances, yet continuing along in situations relatable across the years - relationships, infidelity, sense of self, and identity.


Tomas is a serial womaniser and when he unexpectedly falls in love with Tereza finds himself unable to give up sex with others. He believes that love and lust are two separate things and so it is perfectly possible to love Tereza completely while continuing in his sexual liaisons with others. However, Tereza struggles with his infidelities, and he does feel some guilt, reaching a point where he has to drink in order to sleep with others, but the smell of alcohol gives away his actions. His longest-running extra-marital relationship is with Sabina, an artist who also has other partners. She is happily uncommitted, and when another lover leaves his wife for her she leaves without a trace. 


Tereza has a difficult upbringing with a mother who did not conform to social norms, and whose ideas about privacy and the body were damaging to her daughter. She refused to let Tereza lock the bathroom door, and was more concerned about her desire for privacy than the fact her own partner would frequently go into the bathroom while Tereza was naked. Tereza came to feel that all bodies were equal and in Tomas she wanted to feel special, unique. His infidelities led her to despair that he saw no distinction between her and other women’s bodies. We see frequently in her disturbing dreams how she sees herself through Tomas’s eyes, that she understands the power he has over her and her desire to please him, but also that she does not believe he wants the best for her. Her dreams appear throughout without warning or indication that we are reading a dream, which can be disorienting due to the darkness of the contents of them. Her trajectory feels sad, from a painful childhood and family life, to hope that Tomas will be a gateway into a different better life, to resignation. She is a talented photographer and takes courageous photographs of the reality of occupation, but she feels cowed by Tomas, realising when they leave Prague that he does not provide everything she needs, that their relationship only works when she has the other familiar routines of daily life.


There is also a sense of paranoia and claustrophobia as anyone with any kind of public position is at risk of being condemned for their opinions or actions. Tomas tries to avoid committing to either side to avoid any kind of consequences but he is unsuccessful, his licence to practice surgery is removed and he instead spends his days as a window cleaner, which offers him ample opportunity for yet more sexual relations, and very little actual window cleaning. He has a general air of lack of consequence. He had formerly been married and has a son but never sees him nor does he have any desire to be in his life. He does not consider the effect his actions have on those connected to him, determinedly living a life of lightness, with not a thought to the heaviness he imposes on those around him as a consequence. 


The narrative flits between characters, between the dreamworld and the real, and at times the narrator speaks to us directly as the reader. It is not a conventional narrative style but it is interesting, and as we approach the end we see the same events from different perspectives. An interesting read which explores gender relations and identity, personal responsibility, and uses the historical context, which was still very relevant at the time of publication, to add a sense of finality to decisions. A book which you can enjoy as a standalone piece, but which is likely to inspire a deeper dive into some of the ideas, events, and issues explored. 


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Wednesday, 4 June 2025

A Symphony of Echoes, Jodi Taylor

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Book two in The Chronicles of St. Mary's gives us a chance to catch up with Max, promoted to Chief Operations Officer but just as hot headed. We find her in Victorian London on the hunt for Jack the Ripper. It’s Kalinda Black’s final jump (for those rare few who make it, they’re able to pick where they’d like to go), but it soon becomes clear that going looking for one of history’s most notorious killers might not have been the best idea, and they’re getting more than they bargained for.


Fast-paced as ever, Taylor whizzes us off on a dodo hunt, to the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh, and sixteenth century Scotland to try and get history back on track. Amid all the adventure is the usual camaraderie between colleagues and the explosive relationship between Max and Leon. Our heroes are not the only returning players though, with some familiar villains hiding in time and causing chaos and destruction at every opportunity.


Taylor continues the series with flair and good humour, and although at times this doesn’t feel quite as strong as book one, it’s still hugely enjoyable. The locations and times that they visit are varied and interesting, and Max gets herself in some sticky situations you’re not sure how she’ll escape from. A few new aspects are added to the mix - a jump forward in time, and a mission to the past where they actually want to interfere with the outcome. This provides some new conundrums and also offers Max the opportunity to really step up. Seeing events from her perspective with added comments from the benefit of hindsight, we see when she realises she’s made an error. The team prove themselves strong, loyal and brave time and again, and repeatedly do everything they can to ensure nobody is left behind. 


Whether you’ve always wondered at the true identity of Jack the Ripper, or questioned how alluring Bothwell really was, this book has some fun takes on our historic household names. The drawing of the different eras and geographies is rich and evocative, and the little details about, for example, how difficult the dress of the day made it to get around, make it feel believable. It is the history that takes centre stage and once more Taylor presents it to us in an engaging, humorous style. I’m looking forward to finding out where they all end up next. 


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Tuesday, 27 May 2025

The Life Impossible, Matt Haig

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Seventy-two year old Grace Winters is recently widowed, living a life without joy, and quietly fading. When a former student writes sharing his hardships with her without any expectation of a response, he receives a fantastical tale, which she swears is true, explaining how her life radically changed when a former colleague left her her house in Ibiza. Still wracked with guilt over the death of her son decades earlier, Grace has convinced herself she doesn’t deserve happiness. The unexpected inheritance pushes her out of her comfort zone and into a mysterious world. Christina disappeared in mysterious circumstances and the people in the know don’t even seem sure she’s actually died. The home she’s been left is not grand but shows the life Christina had, imperfect but largely happy, doing what she loved. Grace is warned away from Alberto Ribas, but soon finds herself so intrigued that she’s out on the water in the middle of the night with him, where she encounters La Presencia. Her life will never be the same again. 


Bestowed with new talents - the ability to read people’s minds, and more so, to change their behaviour. To start with she uses her new powers in small ways - stopping obnoxious customers being difficult, freeing sealife destined for the frying pan, and getting people to move out of her way. Soon however, she realises that the precious Es Vedrà is at risk of redevelopment, destroying the natural habitat and a place of spiritual importance to the local population. Will her powers allow her to overcome an opponent whose powers seem to be just as strong, and whose ruthlessness has got him far?


The letter from Maurice, Grace’s former student, at the beginning of the novel raises a number of themes that recur throughout - grief, guilt, responsibility, but also worries about the future of the planet. Grace’s journey exposes a side of Ibiza that tourists rarely see, and considers the importance of preserving the natural world. Art’s previous developments, while pretending to be eco-friendly, have laid waste to natural flora and fauna, and his arrogant belief that people do not care enough to show up in great numbers to prevent the same being done to his latest target on Ibiza is a damning indictment against those who put personal wealth above the health of the planet, and thus the very future of humanity and all the other living things that call this planet home. Thankfully, there are those who are willing to fight even when it feels hopeless, and maybe, just maybe, with Grace on their side they stand a chance. 


It takes a lot for Grace to move to Ibiza, but more so to open her mind to La Presencia and accept the strange reality of her new talents. She has a logical, mathematical mind, and La Presencia demands she let go of logic. In so doing, with a bit of a nudge, her world view begins to change and she opens herself up to new possibilities. There are heavy moments in this novel, Grace’s sense of herself is dark. ‘You see, the problem was this: I sincerely believed I wasn’t a good person who deserved happiness. … And that guilt got into my soul and convinced me I was faulty at a fundamental level. And when you believe that, you act on it. … Don’t get me wrong. My capacity for guilt pre-dated Daniel … But Daniel’s death solidified guilt as my defining feature. Something I had to carry forever.’ Her son had wanted to go to the shops with her but she said no, instead he went out on his bike in the rain and she never saw him alive again. Her grief and guilt is written painfully throughout. The tragedy of her son’s death is raw, but perhaps more so the half life she lived as a result, the marriage that never regained its happiness, the torture of blaming herself forever for something that wasn’t her fault. La Presencia allows her the opportunity to see Christina again, perhaps it can also help her to finally lay old ghosts to rest. We see time and again how Grace feels about herself, how little value she feels, yet it’s clear that she matters to those she knows. She showed Christina kindness that stayed with her without even thinking about it. Kindness that changed the course of her life. Maurice too, obviously values her opinion and experiences. Twenty year olds don’t often write to former teachers unless they have touched their lives. We can see the goodness in her and how she is doing herself a disservice in dwelling on her mistakes, real or imagined. She feels her lack of happiness more strongly on Ibiza too, where happiness is ingrained in everything, the contrast is stronger than in her old bungalow. In Ibiza, age doesn’t matter, octogenarians go clubbing with twenty year olds and nobody bats an eyelid. It is invigorating and freeing when you aren’t defined by expectation. As the book progresses we see Grace open herself up to this.


Haig writes in his characteristic blend of people and situations that sear themselves into your heart and slightly fantastical scenarios. This book felt more fantastical than his previous work but at the heart of it all are humans trying to find their way. We see in the characters around Grace the truth that you don’t have to be perfect to be worthy of happiness, and that every life touches those around them. The mystery of what happened to Christina, and the drama around Art and Es Vedrà add intrigue and excitement. An unusual but enjoyable book that makes you question what kind of mark you are leaving on this Earth. 


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Sunday, 18 May 2025

Surrey New Writers Festival, 2025

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Each Spring, budding writers and recently published authors descend on the University of Surrey for a day of inspiring talks and growing TBRs. This was my second time attending, and although I do always feel like a bit of an interloper as neither a student nor faculty, it is a brilliant day.


First up were Jenny Mustard and Michael Amherst, discussing their new books which both deal with coming-of-age themes. In Mustard’s What A Time To Be Alive twenty-one year old Sickan struggles to adjust to life at Stockholm University. Although she finds it difficult to form bonds with people she’s also determined to make a fresh start for herself, create a new version of herself. Amherst’s protagonist in The Boyhood of Cain is younger at twelve years old but he is similarly trying to find his place in the world amid upheaval and looks to others for guidance. Both authors spoke of starting with their protagonist and building the story and world around them. They also spoke of the importance of humour to counteract the darkness, something which intensifies it in its contrast. There were also similarities in the supporting characters, each having one that borders on being the enemy of our main focus, but also there being something about them which makes it appear they move through the world easily, a trait our protagonists envy and would like to emulate.

Their books may have some overlap, but their writing process couldn’t be more different. Mustard spoke about meticulously planning out the novel on a spreadsheet. Rather than finding this constricting it gave her a sense of freedom to just focus on the scene she was writing rather than worrying about where the story was going next. Amherst on the other hand falls much more into the pantser category, following the narrative as the characters guide. 


Next was a discussion by mother and daughter writing duo Cressida Connolly and Nell Hudson, who discussed how coming from literary families have impacted their writing practice. Connolly’s father was also a well known author while she was growing up and it put her off the idea of writing, but she eventually succumbed to the urge. Hudson had also experienced some reluctance, turning instead to acting as an outlet for her creativity but coming back to writing for the freedom it gives. 


Connolly tends to write historic fiction (although she admits it often feels contemporary to her while she writes it) and talks about the importance for authors of deciding whether they’re going to write post- or pre-technology. They talked about how technology can age a novel instantly, and how it can impact the storytelling. Many mysteries, for example, will find ways to remove technology even if it’s set more recently as they can cause plot problems. Hudson, on the other hand, writes in the contemporary world, wanting to write what she knows, although quips that she’s spent so much time acting in eighteenth century dramas she could probably write a story set then without having to do too much research. 


One of the most impactful moments for me was in response to an audience question about how they overcame reluctance to share their work. They both admit to having initially found it difficult to let anyone read their books, even each other, but now enjoy sharing the writing experience. The simple answer was, the more you write the easier it becomes. If you’ve only written one piece, to share it and receive feedback is excruciating, but once you’ve built up more of a body of work it is less so. They also made the excellent point that even excellent writers write bad stories sometimes. 


Kicking off the afternoon panels was Ela Lee, discussing her novel Jaded, written during the Covid lockdowns. Working in law at the time, sexual misconduct had been common and had become so normalised that it was only when they shifted to working from home that Lee realised how much more relaxed she felt, how she’d been in a constant state of fight or flight in the office. Her novel explores the consequences of sexual assault and is consciously written in a way to make the reader uncomfortable, to make them question their own stance on these issues.


It also explores the experience of growing up mixed race in the UK, something Lee feels is missing in most books. Writing about such personal and sensitive topics, she spoke openly about how anxious she felt about sharing the book with the world. She researched thoroughly not just the content of the novel but also potential agents to ensure she found the right fit. 



Later in the afternoon Ralf Webb and Amy Key had an interesting discussion about writing non-fiction and the authenticity of the writer in doing so, especially when working in the memoir form. They discussed whether everything included has to be 100% factually correct and whether you should put yourself in biographies of others, something editors can encourage but doesn’t always feel appropriate. 


The final panel of the day saw Naomi Wood and Susannah Dickey discuss the experience of working in different forms - long-form prose, poetry, and short story. A comment that was repeated in some of the other panels was that short story publishing is not seen as viable in the long term, that you might get one collection but are generally encouraged toward novels. They spoke eloquently about their experiences of writing, respecting each other’s ability to create in forms the other felt unable to. Wood spoke about the long process that led to her being able to successfully craft short stories, and the difficulty in switching back to writing novels which takes so much longer and where you have to persist with it at the end of each chapter. It was felt that different topics sometimes feel more appropriate in different forms, that a subject might feel very personal and therefore can be expressed better in poetry, for example. 


Rounding up the day was a keynote talk by Daisy Johnson, who had also recently published a short story collection but who was also not encouraged to think of it as a regularly repeatable experience. She spoke honestly about how becoming a mother had impacted her writing, and how her current work-in-progress has stalled for quite some time. She also spoke about how she doesn’t usually write to a hard deadline, but has occasionally had to and the way this impacts her approach to it. She also explored the ways the land inspires and holds hidden stories which she tries to incorporate into many of her works. 

Sunday, 4 May 2025

The Cyber Effect, Mary Aiken

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It’s not uncommon to hear about people attempt a digital detox, to disconnect from technology and re-connect with the physical world around us. Many have a sense of unease about the prevalence of tech in our lives and what it means for the future of humanity, but how is it, and specifically the internet, impacting how we behave and interact? Forensic cyberpsychologist Dr. Mary Aiken guides us through how it normalises deviant behaviours, changes our children’s brains, and impacts how we find and maintain love. Published in 2016, thinking has moved on to a certain degree, technology has become even more integrated in our lives, but this remains an important, fascinating read.


Perhaps most compelling are Dr. Aiken’s chapters on babies through to teens. She talks about how parents will often ask about when it’s OK to introduce screens to their infants but almost never ask about how their own screen use impacts their baby’s development and their relationship with them. Her conclusion is that older family members being glued to their phones has huge impacts on their development. A parent staring at their phone while they feed their baby might feel like a natural multi-tasking activity, but it means the amount of eye contact the baby receives is drastically less than previous generations. Missing out on this attachment forming necessity can impact how they function in relationships for the rest of their lives. It’s not just our smartphones, having screens on in the home reduces physical interaction and play with family members which is fundamental to learning and development. Even as the child grows, Aiken explains how they come to see their parents’ smartphones as competition - studies have shown the disappointment they feel when they see their parents waiting at the school gate using their phones. Again, they crave that eye contact and attention.


As to when they should be given their own tech? It’s recommended that there be no screen time before the age of two. Before this time they can’t understand what the screen is showing them and won’t benefit from apps and videos designed to be educational. It can negatively impact their language development, sense of object permanence, and their eyesight, which develops quickly at this age. Teachers increasingly report that 5-6 year olds arrive at school with the communication skills of a 2-3 year old. Aiken reminds us that correlation does not equal causation but strongly suggests that in these instances they may well.


Children who have never been given time to be bored, having devices placed in front of them constantly, naturally grow into teenagers who are not only very comfortable with tech but already quite addicted. Aiken marvels at the blasé attitude to allowing young people free reign of the internet when we know it’s all too easy to stumble into very dark places. She acknowledges that smart phones have made it much more difficult to monitor online behaviour than when a family computer was being used in a communal area of the home. She flags the lack of concern of social media companies who have access to huge amounts of information about all users but claim not to be able to ascertain if a user is underage. Recent announcements of child-friendly versions of apps for users whose age hasn’t been verified would likely be welcomed.


Aiken does not write with judgment of parents using technology to make an already difficult job feel a little easier but acknowledges how susceptible fully developed adult brains are to the addictive tech we carry with us everywhere, let alone those still trying to find their place in the world. The problem, she states, is that you can’t go cold turkey with tech, so integral has it become to our lives, but we must all strive to create healthy habits around it. It doesn’t have to be inevitable that the internet is a place of exploitation and hate. Moderation by those controlling services go a long way. The internet opens up the world and helps people connect where they might otherwise feel alone, yet we willingly give up our privacy and attention for something whose dark side is incredibly bleak. Despite the sometimes alarmist messaging, this doesn’t feel like a book of despair. Aiken offers studies and facts which can help readers decide what role tech plays in their life and re-consider what we sacrifice for convenience.


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Friday, 11 April 2025

Medea, Eilish Quin

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In this re-telling of one of mythology’s most infamous women Quin attempts to give Medea a story that will make at least some of her decisions understandable. Brought up on Kolchis with a mother who would rather return to the ocean than spend time with her family, a cruel father, and a sister who seems to fit much more easily into the world. Her mother keeps her at a distance, and when she discovers the cause is a gruesome glimpse into the future she wonders at her own capacity for evil.


Her father Aetes reluctantly begins to teach her Pharmakon when it seems he might not have a son to pass his knowledge to. When her brother Phaethon is born and she is told he will one day be brutally murdered she turns her attention to magic that might be able to save him. These experiments involve the murder and grisly dissection of animals, and she begins to worry at the darkness within her. As the book progresses her tolerance for murder seems to expand as she successfully uses it to get what she wants. Her mother’s prophecies often seem to lead her down a dark path but with time she turns to these actions in plots of her own devising. For the most part she does experience guilt and doubt but some of the cruelty she enacts is beyond any reasonable justification. She always holds on to the thought her father is evil and she wants nothing to do with him, but by the end she is forced to admit she is not all that different.


Her first flushes of romantic feeling are toward Phrixus, who lands in her world in a sorry state. His own experiences have taught him not to trust women and Medea is caught between desire and the realisation that women are frequently used only as far as they serve their purpose. He is, nonetheless, destined for her sister, Chalciope, with the help of some love magic, unwillingly administered, the first of Medea’s experiences with manipulating lives with her powers. This is also her first taste of the consequences of interfering with lives, and the distress it can cause to all involved.


Medea believes herself unsuited to marriage and motherhood but when her own mother tells her she must help Jason retrieve the golden fleece she realises, dispassionately, that marriage to Jason may be her and Phaethon’s ticket to freedom. She has preconceptions about what he will be like as a hero, and her role in the escape means he sees her in her worst moments early on in their relationship. These two angles repeatedly rear their heads and cause problems. Jason is ambitious and power-hungry and in trying to help him and protect their family Medea carries out more unspeakable acts. She finds ways to justify this but later, in her spite, she realises how extreme her behaviour has become, how terrible her actions have been, and she pays the ultimate price.


This is a well-written, engaging read. As someone not familiar with the mythology surrounding Medea I was able to enjoy the story with fresh eyes, not knowing what to expect. Others, I know, have found issue with some of the choices and anachronisms. For me it was an interesting examination of the role of women, family ties, and ambition. Medea is certainly a sympathetic character to begin with but as the book progresses she becomes increasingly difficult to relate to. Quin does humanise her sufficiently that her horror and grief at the consequences of her actions do hit an emotional spot, but there are many moments of dismay for the reader before this. 


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