Book Review: Former.ly-The Rise and Fall of a Social Network by Dane Cobain

In UK-based author Dane Cobain’s novel Formerly: The Rise and Fall of Social Network, protagonist Dan Roberts is living in London with his journalist girlfriend, Sarah, and trying to eek out a living as a freelance computer programmer. Dan is passionate about programming, but it’s not exactly doing a lot to pay the bills or pay for the flat he shares with Sarah.

Low on funds, Dan is desperate for a full-time job, so he’s pretty happy to get a steady gig as a programmer with the social media platform Former.ly even though the interview process is less than orthodox (drinking is involved). Former.ly is a website where people can share their innermost secrets, yet, the caveat is that these secrets won’t be made available until the person dies. Yes, Former.ly relies on death. Death is imperative to Former.ly’s success.

Dan has no idea what he’s exactly getting into, but he’s happy to accept a regular paycheck. At the helm of Former.ly are its two founders, John and Peter. John and Peter are at first shrouded in mystery, but it isn’t long before Dan realizes (as do the ready) that both of them have nefarious things in mind. John has a vicious temper and is a total control freak. Peter is also a control freak, but he seems (on the surface) to be more measured than his fellow founder of Former.ly.

Dan’s co-workers include Felicity, who goes by the nickname Flick. Flick works as Former.ly’s office manager/PR girl. Abhi is a fellow coder. Kerry is the media guy who films the people for their video diaries. And later on, comes along Nate who is Former.ly’s custodian, but knows a lot more than he initially lets on, and Elaine who works on the financials of Former.ly. Elaine is a bit of an outlier at Former.ly considering she’s in her fifties and has grandchildren.

It isn’t long before Dan’s job at Former.ly takes over his own life. He’s working ungodly long hours and spending more time with his coworkers than with his beleaguered girlfriend. Dan and Sarah agree to break up; their relationship long past repair.

Former.ly is getting more and more successful, and the founders decide it’s time to go public. After a launch party, one of the journalists dies under very mysterious circumstances. At first Dan and his coworkers think the journalist’s death is just an unfortunate circumstance, but they soon turn suspicious of John and Peter, and the going ons at Former.ly. Yet, at this point their livelihood is of utmost importance. They need their jobs.

John and Peter decide some changes need to be made at Former.ly. They want to move Former.ly from Jolly Old England to Palo Alto, California, one of the epicenters of all things tech. Yes, this means most of the staff of Former.ly have to move to Palo Alto. Moving is never exactly uncomplicated, especially when one is moving to a whole new country. Dan’s fellow coder, Abhi, expresses hesitancy over moving to Palo Alto. He has family in England, and his wife is expecting a baby. But somehow Abhi is supposed to be more committed to Former.ly than his pregnant wife. Abhi never ends up in Palo Alto. Instead, his lifeless body is found in the River Thames. Could it be a tragic coincidence or something far more sinister?

Despite his reluctance, Dan moves to Palo Alto and gets sucked up even more into the high tech world (he ends up driving a Tesla), but he is convinced something completely evil is going on with John and Peter. And he’s committed to get into the crux of what is really happening at Former.ly and Nate, the custodian (and so much more) is along for the ride. Former.ly continues to be riddled with death, break-ins, and lots of other wicked activities. And it doesn’t help the police are getting involved. Will Dan be able to find out what is really going on at Former.ly or will he end up in huge trouble or ever worse, dead?

Former.ly is a fascinating look at tech culture and how it overwhelms the people who work in this very high-stakes world. The mysterious thriller aspect just makes Former.ly so much more interesting, and it has a twist at the end that truly had me shocked. I’m usually not a fan of tech bros, but Dan Roberts is a rather compelling reluctant hero.

Funny Girl by Nick Hornby

In Nick Hornby’s novel Funny Girl (not at all related to the musical and movie of the same name), Barbara Parker has just been crowned Miss Blackpool. But the tiara won’t stay on her head for long. Instead of being a beauty queen, Barbara wants to be a famous comedic actress like her idol Lucille Ball. But this isn’t going to happen in a town in north England in 1964.

Rejecting the crown and the title, Barbara leaves Blackpool and moves to London where everything is happening and she hopes she’ll become a successful and famous actress, the British Lucille Ball. Barbara soon gets a job at a department store cosmetics counter (where the store always puts the pretty girls) and lives with one of her co-workers, Marjorie, in a dumpy bedsit.

Being the gorgeous lass she is, Barbara gets a lot of attention. And during a night on the town, Barbara meets talent agent Brian Debenham. Don’t worry. Brian isn’t some sleazebag with nefarious designs on Barbara. He’s truly legit.

Proving to be more than a pretty face, Barbara convinces Brian she has the talent and drive to be a comedic actress. Barbara auditions for a sitcom that ultimately gets named Barbara (and Jim). She is cast as Barbara and her name is changed to Sophie Straw. And we learn making a sitcom is no easy task. The writers, Tony and Bill, agonize over the scripts like its brain surgery.

Barbara (and Jim) becomes a huge hit and Sophie becomes a big star. The media wants to interview her, women want to be her, and men want to get into her knickers. Sophie even gets engaged to her co-star, Clive, though it’s not meant to be. But don’t fret. Sophie does find love, and has a long marriage. She also tries to prove herself as an actress and a women at a time just before second wave feminism. And as Funny Girl ends, Sophie is older and considered an icon of British television.

Funny Girl also conveys England changing from the staid, uptight post-war 1950s to the more fun, adventurous swinging 1960s. The Beatles and the Rolling Stones are name dropped. The sexual revolution is gaining steam, but homosexuality is still considered a crime. Some gay men do marry women and have children and others are on the downlow having secretive trysts.

Nick Hornby is usually a writer that delivers. His books High Fidelity and About a Boy are classics. But Funny Girl just falls flat. Hornby does the writerly sin of telling not showing. We are told Barbara/Sophie is a laugh riot, but I barely got a chuckle out of this book, let alone a full belly laugh. Funny Girl promised so much yet doesn’t deliver. You’re better off watching the 1968 film Funny Girl featuring another Barbra, Barbra Streisand.

Moranifesto by Caitlin Moran

It’s probably not a secret that I’m a fan of British pop culture critic, author, feminist and all-around cool British bird Caitlin Moran. Ms. Moran began writing about pop music when she was still a teenager growing up in a struggling family that lived in a council house and later hosted a TV show. Later Moran proved her feminist street cred via her funny, soul-searching, thought-provoking columns on everything from her budding sexuality as a teenager to her challenges combing marriage, child rearing and writing. She also writes about serious issues that affect women (and the men who love them) with the same aplomb she writes about pop culture. I’ve been a fan of hers ever since I picked up to of her earlier books Moranthology and How to Be a Woman. And her novel How to Build a Girl is a must read if you’ve ever been a teen-age girl (or, just human).

So when I found out Moran had released another book of essays, Moranifesto, I did a little jig in my leopard-spot flats and got myself a copy, which I can safely say is another feather in marvelous Ms. Moran’s chapeau! And it’s the perfect feminist elixir in a time of the Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief, #marketplacefeminism, Brexit, the sad loss of pop culture icons like Bowie, and a host of other issues that affect women across the big pond and women who live in your neighborhood.

Moranifesto is divided into four distinct parts:

1. The Twenty-first Century—Where We Live
2. The Feminisms
3. The Future
4. Epilogue

In The Twenty-first Century—Where We Live, Moran examines why her utter disdain for the late Margaret Thatcher to her despair over the death of David Bowie. She muses the hatred of her printer (always a letdown for writers on a strict deadline), famous people she has annoyed and taking a rather unpleasant ride through the streets of New York City. Her chapter on her love of bacon will resonate with anyone who thinks bacon is the food of the Gods. And I adored her essay on smells that remind us of childhood—our mother’s perfume, pencil shavings, calamine lotion, puppies, lilac trees—scents that make us a wee bit nostalgic for perceived simpler times when anything and everything seemed possible.

In Feminisms Moran pokes fun at her face, which she describes part potato, part thumb and asks why we have to make everything “sexy?” She implores us to find another word for rape, her support of Hillary Clinton, giving up high heels, the most sexist TV show called “Blachman,” the type of show I hope never makes our shores, and speaking of TV, spends a day with Lena Dunham on the set of “Girls.”

And in part three, Moran looks into her crystal ball to figure out the future. In this batch of musings she claims reading is fierce yet she thinks it’s okay if her children aren’t big readers. She validates the importance of libraries. She also gets serious discussing Syria and refugees. And when she muses about women who mess things up things for the rest of us you might find yourself nodding your head in agreement.

The fourth part of Moranifesto, the epilogue, is brief, yet probably the most important part of the book. The epilogue is a letter to Moran’s daughter Lizzie. In this letter, Moran is dead (yes, a wee bit morbid). Lizzie is about the turn 13 and Moran want to share some advice Lizzie might find useful. Moran tells Lizzie “try to be nice.” Niceness will always shine and bring people to you. Also, keep in mind that when you think you are on the verge of a nervous breakdown have a cup of tea and a biscuit (British term for cookie).

Other sage wisdom, choose friends in which you can be your true self and avoid trying to fix someone or avoid someone who thinks you need fixing. Though it may difficult in our shallow culture with its fixation on women’s outer shell, make peace with your body. Make people think you are amazing conversationalist by asking them questions; what they say might prove useful one day.

And probably the most powerful piece of Moran’s letter to Lizzie can be summed up in the following sentence.

“…life divides into AMAZING ENJOYABLE TIMES and APPALLINGEXPERIENCES THAT WILL MAKE FUTURE AMAZING ANECDOTES.”

True…so true.

Throughout Moranifesto, there are essays that really got under my skin, but I can’t really share why because they are way too personal; and at times, I need to keep certain experiences close to my vest. But to give you a sneak peak, these chapters include:

1. The Rich are Blithe
2. Poor People are Clever
3. Two Things Men Need to Understand About Women
4. How I Learned About Sex
5. Let Us Find Another Find Another Word For Rape

And some other interesting chapters I think a lot of women will find fascinating include:

1. The Real Equality Checklist
2. What Really Gives Me Confidence
3. All the Lists of My Life

So my lads and lasses, grab a cuppa (cup of tea), enjoy some fish and chips (or as we call it here in Wisconsin a Friday night fish fry with French fries), ring up your mates (call your besties), and keep calm and carry on (Netflix and chill). Caitlin Moran is back and better than ever!

P.S. Moran’s sister works at a perfume shop and she let Moran smell the fragrance David Bowie wore and Moran claimed it smelled of pineapple and platinum. Well, I know what pineapple smells like, but what about platinum? What does platinum smell like? I suppose it smells cool and metallic. But this Bowie were talking about. I bet it smells warm and ever ch, ch, ch, changing to whatever we desire. For me this would smell of a special amber oil in my possession, vanilla as I pour it into some cookie batter, a match after I blow it out, the lavender growing in a mug on my window sill, freshly made bread, the pages within a book, my mother’s chicken soup, and yes, bacon.