Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney

By Howard Sounces

Four out of Five Stars

I’ve pretty much been a lifelong Beatles fan; a fan that has also grown to appreciate the music John, Paul, George and Ringo (yes, Ringo) made as solo artists. I’ve read a lot of books on the Beatles, and have several lined up to read in the future. It’s a compulsion, as, despite the fact the story never changes, and I know it so well, I still continue to read the books. Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney, at least allowed me to not only read about his Beatle years, but also his solo career, which I haven’t thoroughly explored – so at least, I knew there’d be something different here.

Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney by Howard Sounes, was a solid read – one I enjoyed. The trick to writing a book about a Beatle these days, is to say your book offers new insights, but based on the amount that has been written about them, these new insights are often negligible. Fab is no different in this regard, and those insights were not that exciting, at least for me. I have to remember though, if you’re just starting to explore the world of the Beatles, everything in this book is new, and as such, interesting.

Howard Sounes is an excellent writer, with an easy-going style. He reports on aspects of Paul’s life, without falling into the trap some writers do when writing about musicians, of over-analyzing their musical work. He does comment on the songs and their strengths, and I do agree with him that lacking John Lennon’s contribution, a lot of Paul’s work with Wings, and as a solo artist, didn’t have the same impact. In fairness to Paul, however, we can say the same for John’s work; the two seemed to counter balance one another beautifully. That’s not to take away from moments of brilliance in song writing – it’s just when you look at that brilliance over the ten years of the Beatles, the solo years seemed leaner.

The book did give me a new appreciation of Paul as a family man, and one can’t help feeling bad about his experiences with second wife Heather Mills, after a long and successful marriage with the Lovely Linda. Heather does not not come off well in the book; seeing as she recently criticized Paul after he worked with Kanye West, saying he was irrelevant, I tend to believe her character skews towards what Howard Sounes has written about her. Maybe it’s time she let go of the anger.

Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney is a great place for anyone to start, if they’re exploring the Beatles as both a band and solo artists; for those of us well entrenched in their lives, it’s still a solid read. Some may disagree; all I can say was I enjoyed the read, and in the long run, as a reader that’s all that really counts.

Remembering Those Who Inspired

June 8, 2015

I’ve been working hard re-writing and polishing my fourth novel, Barkerton. Trying to balance that with blogging and getting on Twitter, and...well...failing. Yesterday, however, I was given pause to think and reflect. It was four years ago, June 7th, that my Father passed away. I know they say time heals all wounds, but no matter how much I appear to be coping, his loss, and that of my Mother still hits me hard.

My Mom has been gone for eleven years now. It was a loss that struck me to the core of my being; I had a great relationship with my Mom, and she provided a voice and guidance that I could turn to when life became complicated – or just when I wanted someone to talk to. If your Mom is still around, do not underestimate the value of being able to pick up the phone and call her; for me, it is now just a dream.

My Mother dedicated herself to raising her kids, and gave her all to us. Now that I look back, I honestly believe she was a frustrated writer; it was my Mother that instilled a love of reading and writing in me. She wrote well, and I can’t help but wonder what she would have written if she’d actually nurtured her talent. Instead she nurtured my talent. I believe she sacrificed her dreams, to give me my dream; she set me on the path, that has now developed into novel writing, and that is a gift I am unable to truly thank her for, as I’ve realized all of this only after her passing.

Dad, well, Dad was a presence; he was a giant of a man with a good heart. He never failed to help others, and did so because he really truly cared. Dad wasn’t an avid reader of books, but he consumed newspapers on a daily basis, as well as magazines devoted to history. In his own way, he was a well-read and intelligent man. What he gave me is whatever strength of character I currently have. He showed me what it was to be a good human being, and while I know I’ll never completely measure up to him, by making me strive to do so, he has made me a better man. My Dad and I were close, and his passing still haunts me to this day. You see, when Mom became sick with cancer, Dad was her main caretaker, and it wasn’t until that wretched disease afflicted him, and my wife and I became his main caretaker, that I realized all he had done for her and all he had gone through – with grace, dignity and no complaints.

Don’t get me wrong, my parents were not perfect, but from what I do know, in being born as their son, I did win a biological lottery. So much of whom and what they were, makes me who and what I am today. I believe that is reflected in my writing and my ability to have become a writer.

I miss them.