Laughing in the wrong places?

Or were we? I'm not sure. And did it matter? Oh, yes, yes, yes it DID!

I'm talking about All My Colors by David Quantick (yes, it's that book again - I can't get it out of my mind).

I was walking to a meeting this morning, sunny day, a bit cool and I was thinking about the book and how much the author didn't want us to laugh in the wrong places. He said it at the book launch and then again in an interview.

But I think he thought we were laughing at the grisly bits, the pieces of nightmare that bind the book together. Well, I don't know about the other readers but those were not the bits that I was laughing at. The scenes of horror were nightmarish, not funny. I was laughing at all kinds of other bits in between, the way he described somebody starting to laugh, for instance, and his characters' everyday interactions.

It seems important to the author that the horror - the punishment that Todd receives - remains nasty. The author wants him punished - not for what the reader expects him to be punished for - but for what the author thinks that Todd needs to be punished for. There is no redemption in sight.

This book works on so many levels and I thought as I got to my meeting place that one of the levels is all about guilt..... writer's guilt...

And I do think it's important to laugh together - all in sync with each other - like getting the rhythm right with feet tapping, hearts beating together ...