Sunday Summary: Pre-Christmas catch-up

Hello all! We're well and truly into the run-up to Christmas now; who's ready? I've bought all but maybe two of my presents, but have only written three cards so far. I spent this afternoon wrapping parcels while listening to the Elvis CD with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, which although it is only a year old has already got Christmassy associations for me. It's getting busier at work, and yesterday was quite stressful, but overall I've come to realise that I don't mind retail Christmas after all. It's late September/early October that is the worst part, when we start getting massive deliveries (and this year was the worst because our lift broke down around then. And I work upstairs. Carrying heavy boxes upstairs one at a time was not fun.) I wouldn't even mind working through everyone else's Christmas holidays if I could have plenty of time off at the same time but someone's stolen my time machine and therefore expect me to be privately grumbly underneath my jolly exterior on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day.

I keep trying to hold myself to a book-buying ban until Christmas, but when I see a bargain at the moment I just have to snap it up. And yet I've fallen into a bit of a reading slump of late; I've been reading The Passage by Justin Cronin along with my best friend and her boyfriend, but it's rather a slog, and none of us seem to be in much of a hurry to get back to the story. The only things I've really read have been Anne Digby's Trebizon books - a series of boarding-school stories from the '80s and '90s - and The Twelve Days of Dash and Lily. Meanwhile, the piles on my to-read shelf are towering reproachfully over me, telling me that despite my attempts to reduce it, I have about 20 more unread books than I did at the start of the year. Oh well. Books don't go off.

At the end of November my cousin Stewart got married, the first of our generation to tie the knot. (There are some other married cousins, but they are much older and don't quite count.) It was a lovely, wedding, with a church ceremony, then onto a hotel the other side of the Dartford crossing, Those of us who came from the Isle of Wight had rooms at the hotel, meaning that we could dance all night. (I don't dance. I can't dance. But that night I made the exception, figuring that my terrible boogying wasn't going to ruin anyone else's evening, and so I just didn't care.) It was so much fun, perhaps my best day of the year.

Yesterday I went to see local theatre group the Apollo Players put on a production of Terry Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters. The three witches were spot-on; I was particularly impressed by Magrat (who might have walked off the pages of a Paul Kidby illustration) and Nanny Ogg. Duke Felmet was gloriously hammy, but also rather horrifying as he became more and more unhinged by guilt. Wyrd Sisters' themes and commentary on the theatre made it a particular fitting story to see on the stage, and everyone enjoyed themselves immensely. I hope that the play won over some new Discworld fans. (I also realised that sometimes I have a really dirty laugh.)

And on that subject, next year, Bex will be hosting a Discworldathon, a year-long reading event for readers and bloggers to lose ourselves in Pratchett's creation. Looking at her introductory post, it looks like it'll be a huge party, with post prompts, challenges and readalongs, and several guest hosts taking charge of different events. I've been a fan of Discworld since I was about fourteen, and have read all but three or four - so in 2017 I will finally finish the series, as well as revisiting old favourites and taking part in some of the challenges. So whether you're an old fan who needs no excuse, or a newcomer wandering what the fuss is all about, I urge you check out the Discworldathon. It doesn't have to be a big commitment; you can participate as much or as little as you like, blogging, reading, joining social media discussions or taking part in other ways.  

I've mentioned Mark Does Stuff several times over the years. Mark Oshiro is a blogger who goes into popular books and series completely unspoiled, and writes about his thoughts, predictions and criticisms chapter by chapter or episode by episode. He's currently working his way through the Discworld series and his posts are a fascinating read, supported by a great, intelligent community of readers who can offer all sorts of perspectives and insight. No two people read the same book, they say, and so the discussions present familiar stories in a brand-new light.

Sunday Summary: Happy New Year

Wasn't it just last week that I was bemoaning the lack of hoverboards in "the future" of 2015? And now the future is in the past, and there are things that people will insist on calling hoverboards on sale in Maplins, and causing accidents everywhere and being banned from public places but they are not hoverboards! Give us the real thing or go home, will ya?

Anyway, 2015 is over now, for which I think we're all grateful. It was a pretty rubbish year all round I think. Personally, I think I'm in a better place mentally than I was a year ago; I survived turning 30, continued with my writing, and mostly quit whinging about my life and became content with what I've got, the people, the opportunities, the freedom (and the books.) So there's that to be said for 2015, anyway. But for the most part, I'm glad it's behind us and although I know it's just a date, it's good to have a day to say "the future hasn't been written yet, so make it a good one" once a year.

I haven't made any specific new year's resolutions this year, just to be kind and to continue with my writing, but I have started keeping not one but TWO journals: one is for Ali Edwards' "One Little Word" project - you choose a word and ponder and write/scrapbook/create things about how that word will be significant throughout the year. I chose "Peace." And I've also made a variation of the "happy jar" where you write down good things that have happened and put them into a jar - or in my case, onto my page-a-day colouring calendar, which I stick into another notebook. If at the end of the year I find myself thinking again "nothing's happened," I can look back over all the good things I've done or experienced through the year and prove the opposite. (In theory, anyway...)

Christmas was a good, but quiet one. My sister came home for about ten days, and although I was working all week (the joys of retail!) I still managed to find time in the evenings to relax, watch films, eat lots of food and spend time with family and friends.

My presents:

From my parents:
DVDs of Marvel's Agent Carter (which I have been wanting to see ever since I heard it existed, but circumstances conspired against me) and season two of Star Trek: Deep Space 9. 
Microwavable slippers! These work when nothing else will to banish cold feet forever!
(Not pictured: a new coat, laptop case, Thornton's chocolate Santa.)

From my sister:

Books: The Boy That Never Was by Karen Perry and The Geeky Chef Cookbook which has recipes for Butterbeer, Lembas, Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters and 1-Up mushroom cupcakes, among many other nerd-culture-inspired recipes. A fancy candle, and a Thunderbird 2 t-shirt. (When I was about 7 I really wanted to be Thunderbird 2 when I grew up. Not fly it. Be it.)

From Hanna:

Our little group of bloggers did a Secret Santa again this year, and Hanna sent me some amazing presents: the Tolkien's World colouring book, two YA novels: The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness and Silence is Goldfish by Annabel Pitcher, and an absolutely gorgeous infinity scarf/snood/whatever these joined-up scarves are called with a space pattern on it. I've been wearing that nearly every day since Christmas; I love it!

From other friends:

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - the illustrated edition, from Judith. I think most of my bookish friends have received copies of that this year. It's beautiful! She also got me some presents from the Literary Gift Company: a red tote bag with a quote about paradise being a library, some "Banned Books" matchbooks, a folding out "Gorjuss" photo box, and some amaretto-soaked sultanas from Hotel Chocolat. (These did not last long.) Sammy and her family bought me lots of bath and shower smellies, and two Funko Pop figures: Zoe Washburn from Firefly (taking on a dragon on my bookcase in the picture above) and a mini Eleventh Doctor on a keyring. From my uni friends I got several small things: a box of bookish pencils, a knitting brooch, some bookmarks and a little leaflet filled with writing prompts for coffee shops, which I've tucked into the back pocket of my handbag-notebook so I've got it with me wherever I go.

Bout of Books

Now that Christmas and New Year are over, the rest of winter is stretching out long and grey before us (at least, those of us in the Northern Hemisphere.) So, now that things are quietening down, what better than to snuggle up with a big mug of coffee (tea, hot chocolate or other beverage of choice) and a good book? And the Bout of Books readathon returns just in time for that tomorrow. Hurrah! I don't exactly need an excuse to be a book-dwelling hermit, but it's nice to have company (on the internet, not in the room) while doing it. So I'll be eagerly taking part and making my way through my January to-read pile. 4 books in a week is my usual readathon target, and the rest of the pile should take me through to the end of the month (although as always subject to what I feel like reading at the time.)

1. Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke. I bought this for my dad years ago and have been meaning to borrow it back for ages. I thoroughly enjoyed the BBC adaptation last year, and it was very strange for me to be the only person in the room not to have read the book it was based on - especially when it was a particularly Katie story.
2. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet - Becky Chambers
3. Upstairs at the Party - Linda Grant
4. The Drawing of the Three - Stephen King. I had a mini-splurge in Waterstone's a couple of days after Christmas. I read The Gunslinger, the first book in King's Dark Tower series. I had a bit of trouble with the first book, but enough people (especially Laura and Judith) rave about the series as a whole, and I know just enough about it, that I want to continue and see what all the fuss is about. Apparently it brings together all sorts of elements from King's entire canon, which is odd as it seems to take place in a different world (but with just enough specific details from ours to be confusing, such as "Hey Jude" in a setting reminiscent of America's Old West.)
5. Silence is Goldfish - Annabel Pitcher. I don't know much about this book except that it deals with either elective or selective mutism. I really loved Pitcher's first book, My Sister Lives on the Mantlepiece, although I found Ketchup Clouds pretty forgettable. I have high
6. The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness.  What about the kids who aren't the Chosen Ones when Things Start To Happen?
7. Disclaimer - Renee Knight. I found this one in a charity shop and had been pondering it for a while. It was supposed to be "for people who liked The Girl on the Train, but I wasn't madly in love with that one; it was okay but I expected more, considering how massive it's been. (It's been out for a year and no sign of a paperback yet. And there won't be, while people are still prepared to pay for the hardcover.) But Disclaimer has an interesting premise: someone realises that the book she's reading is based upon her own life. But who knows enough about her secrets to turn them into a novel?
8. Career of Evil - "Robert Galbraith." J. K. Rowling's third pseudonymous crime novel about private detective Cormoran Strike and his assistant Robin. I had to get that in hardback to match the first two in the series. J. K. Rowling proves herself an expert weaver of plots in every genre she's turned her hand to, and I look forward to being ensnared in her web once more.
9. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen. I am long overdue a Jane Austen reread, and actually, because I know it so well through the many adaptations and variations, Pride and Prejudice is probably the book I've read least. 
10. Our Mutual Friend - Charles Dickens. My Grandma passed on her complete Dickens set to me a few years ago, when she moved out of her house into a flat, and again, it's been a while since I've read any of his work. (The complete works of Dickens don't really count as part of the to-read pile, as they will probably take decades to get through. But I do intend to get through them all eventually.)

Sunday Summary: Christmas!

A belated Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you have had a restful few days, with good food, company and presents.

Last week, for the first time since September, I only worked my contracted part-time hours, so although I didn't get to have an actual Christmas holiday (retail is rubbish 'cause people still want to buy stuff) it felt like a break by comparison with the last months, and with previous years when I've had less time off over Christmas than in a normal week. I was quite fortunate, finishing work at 2PM Christmas Eve, and having Christmas Day and Boxing Day off.

I was less fortunate a couple of hours before I was due to finish work, by coming down with my traditional Christmas cold. I suppose it was inevitable - there had been people sneezing and coughing in the shop all through December, but there are 365 days in a year - why did it have to hit me on Christmas Eve of all those days? It's ridiculous, and I am not impressed! But all moaning aside, it was a very mild case of the sneezes, and it didn't really make me feel ill, and by evening on Boxing Day I was absolutely fine again.

My sister has come back to the Isle of Wight for her Christmas break, her longest holiday since she's been living in London, and she goes back in the new year. Christmas Eve we watched the Muppet Christmas Carol, which we have seen so many times that we were joining in with all the songs and a large amount of the dialogue. It really is one of the best adaptations out there, and has to be watched as close to Christmas Eve as possible.

My Grandma was due to come to us for Christmas dinner, but when my Mum went to collect her from her nursing home, she decided she didn't feel well enough. She's 92, and very aware of the fact. It was disappointing, although not entirely surprising, when she decided not to come for dinner, although Mum persuaded her to come up to see us for a little while, even if not for lunch. My uncle and aunt dropped in with her Christmas present too.

I received some wonderful gifts from my family and friends this year, with a very bookish, creative and nerdy flavour to them.

Books:

I've already shown these off, but from my Secret Santa (who it is probably safe to reveal as Bex now): The Rook, The Thirteenth Tale and We Should All Be Feminists, as well as a bookish tote bag and some knitting wool.

From my best friend Judith: The Bookshop Book by Jen Campbell. This was my Christmas Day read, and it made me really want to take a Grand Bookshop Tour of Britain and beyond! (Coincidentally I bought this for another friend - and although I'd planned to look at it before wrapping it, I never got around to doing so.)

From my parents: The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe by Alexander McCall Smith, the latest in his No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series. The cover claims it is signed by the author, although the pen marks on the title page resemble some form of hieroglyphics. They also bought me Terra's World, the sequel to Terra which I read in the Bout of Books readathon and which was one of my favourite books of the year.

From my sister: The Year I Met You by Cecelia Ahern, one of my favourite comfort-read authors, and The Elements of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth, a non-fiction book about what makes up good writing. She also bought me a second-hand copy of Farmer Giles of Ham by J.R.R. Tolkien, and illustrated by Pauline Baynes, who is probably best known for her illustrations of the Chronicles of Narnia series.

Judith also bought me a book token, because she's been rather ill and lost track of how many presents she bought me (plenty. Too many, probably.)

Writer's materials:

From my sister: This t-shirt:

Also a notebook/journal which is a replica of River Song's journal from Doctor Who.

From my parents: Ready, Set, Novel - a Very Useful Resource for plotting a novel, with all sorts of pages for figuring out your characters, outlining, brainstorming, etc. This is produced by the people behind NaNoWriMo.

And Judith bought me a fancy notebook too:

I was very touched by all these writerly gifts, because it made me feel that my closest friends and family have noticed me picking up my long-neglected writing, and want to encourage me in it.

Crafty:

From Judith: a cross-stitch bookmark kit
From another friend, Sharon: a make-your-own purse set - part of which I can make up with my newly-acquired sewing machine.
From my friend Esther (who is also Judith's youngest sister) some homemade chocolate brownies, and hand-made earrings and bracelet.

Nerdy:

Thor: The Dark World DVD from my parents
Starfighter cookie-cutters - put together to make a 3D cookie spaceship! Awesome. (These were from Judith too.)

Boxing Day was a traditionally lazy day, with no alarms being set, and lots of lounging around the house reading. I am very much not someone who rushes straight out to the shops as soon as the post-Christmas sales are launched. Boxing day is for family. We spent the afternoon playing a long game of Isle of Wight Monopoly. I am terrible at Monopoly, but yesterday I managed to stay in the game a lot longer than predicted, even managing to acquire some respectable properties (although I was a very close second to be declared bankrupt!)

How did you spend your Christmas?

Sunday Summary: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Morning all! For the last few years, since I've been working in retail, I haven't exactly been feeling Christmassy until it's too late. I might find myself humming Christmas carols in October (September, August...) as I unpack the festive books, but I get so caught up in the stress of retail-Christmas that I haven't really been able to enjoy the season. This year I seem to have disassociated retail-Christmas with the real thing, being able to keep the two things separate in my mind, and now I am feeling very festive indeed - and there's still a week and a half to go! I hope this lasts.

My day off was Friday this week, and I spent the afternoon decorating our tree and living and dining rooms, while watching Anne of Green Gables. I also picked up a massive parcel from the post office. Some of the UK book bloggers decided to do a Secret Santa this year, and my sender was particularly generous. I'll keep their identity a secret until everyone else has revealed their presents (and I hope it was OK to open my parcel before Christmas day.) But it was someone who knows me well! As well as three books: The Thirteenth Tale, The Rook, and We Should All Be Feminists, I received some chocolate hobnobs - my absolute favourite! - some knitting wool for making cosy winter socks, and a book bag with the instructions to use it for taking my books for a walk.

Another thing that has made me feel Christmassy has been when my feet lead me out of work and straight into Costa Coffee, to find a tasty festive hot beverage to keep me company in the cold and dark as I trudge up the hill towards my home. But I've also been experimenting with making my very own deluxe spicey hot chocolate, and as it's Christmas, I'm going to share the recipe with you:

Ingredients:

1 x small bar/ 5-6  squares of dark chocolate. (I use Bournville. I think 6 squares may make it a leetle bit too rich, so feel free to eat the last bit.)

1 x mug of whole milk. 

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1-2 cardamom pods.

Grate or finely chop the chocolate (so that it melts better). Heat the milk in a saucepan over the hob. When hot but not boiling, add the chocolate and spices, and stir until all melted. Remove cardamom, pour into mug and top with whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Et voila! Hot chocolate fit for a king.

I haven't got a lot of reading done this week, but - against my better judgement - I decided to face up to my childhood fear of clowns and read Stephen King's It. I think King was responsible for the longest book I've read this year, 11.22.63, and It is nearly twice as long. So far I've been intrigued rather than scared, but have only had the merest glimpse of the clown, and I will never ever ever be able to watch any screen adaptation. 

On the other end of the scale, a comment on a very old blog post prompted me to think of looking on the Kobo site for a book for which I've been searching for about seventeen years: the final installment of Anne Digby's Trebizon series of girls' school stories. The genre was pretty much extinct by the time the last book came to be published, with a tiny print run, and second hand copies are available for upwards of £40 in paperback. But to my joy, I found Kobo selling it for the same price a children's book would have sold for in the mid 1990s - a mere £2.99. I still can't convince my brain that reading on my phone or any other electronic device is the same activity as reading a book, but it's better than nothing, and I can gladly say I've finished the story, at last.

This week I started playing around with Grandma's old sewing machine, which is now mine. It had been at least fifteen years since I touched a sewing machine, but as I figured out how to thread it up, a lot came back to me from school, and once I'd worked out what to do with the bobbin, it was a lot simpler than it looked. I raided my mum's scrap bag to practice seams, and ended up with a patchwork cushion cover, which is not at all bad for a first try. The seams are mostly pretty straight, and I seem to have learned a bit more control over the machine than I had as a girl. The lovely thing about this cushion is that every bit of fabric has its own memories: the flowery fabric is left over from my mum's favourite dress, the polka dots were from pyjamas, and the navy blue material was a dress when I was very little.

N0S4R2 - Joe Hill

Victoria McQueen has a talent for finding things. As a little girl, she cycled across the Shorter Way Bridge near her home, to come out miles away. Throughout her turbulent youth, all she had to do was go out on her bike and the bridge would take her wherever she needed to go. But one day, an angry, teenaged Vic found Charlie Manx, kidnapper, serial killer, and vampire of sorts, and she barely escaped with her life. Sixteen years on, Manx snatches Vic's son in his vintage Rolls-Royce Wraith (number plate N0S4R2 or N0S4A2 depending on which edition of the book you're reading.) Wayne (first name Bruce) is whisked away to Manx's Christmasland, a place that promises eternal happiness, fun and innocence. But Vic McQueen will do anything to get her son back.

Vic McQueen is a messed-up character, there's no doubt about that. Combine a childhood of living with parents who loathed each other with her reality-defying gift and her near-death experience at Charlie Manx's, and it's no wonder she went off the rails. But I found it impossible not to like this tough-talking, tattooed young mother just trying to make the best of things despite her brokenness. In the aftermath of her first encounter with Manx, the adult Vic goes through various institutions, and emerges not sure of what is true and what is illusion. It is notable that Manx's return into Vic's life coincides with her running out of medication. Though it's pretty certain that N0S4R2 is a tale of the supernatural, Joe Hill subtly introduces a hint of doubt. There are times when the same scene is shown from two different points of view, each account differing just enough to make you question the narrator's reliability.

Vic is one half of the most unlikely but endearing couple, and I will continue to call them a couple though they are separated at the time of their son's abduction. Lou is the improbable knight on a shining motorbike who helps her escape from Manx; overweight and nerdy, Lou is an archetypal "loser," but he has a heart of gold and an enduring loyalty. Even when Vic and Lou are apart, their love for each other shines throughout.

In N0S4R2, Joe Hill has created characters you can really care for. Even people who appear for just a scene or two are rounded out and make you feel for them - a very dangerous thing in a horror novel. Due to the genre, you know that dreadful things are sure to happen, but I found myself aching for certain characters to be spared. Surely they must be immune? The devastating impact of each death reaffirms that no one is the expendable extra, that when a serial killer is on the loose, there is no containing the consequences of his actions. No man is an island; the redshirt is a myth.

On the other hand, the villains are repulsive. Manx is awful enough, evil and twisted enough to convince himself that he is doing what is best. But his henchman, Bing, is so much worse, utterly vile, a rapist and murderer, broken in the brain, and unlike Manx you get to see inside his mind. His point-of-view chapters made me feel defiled just by reading them.

At nearly 700 pages, N0S4R2 requires some commitment, but it is a twisty page-turner, an unusual and attention-grabbing thriller. Each chapter takes the story in a new direction. In some ways, I was hesitant to read much of the book in one sitting, for fear of what might lie in store for the characters, but that was continually overridden by the desire to get caught up in this adventure and spent my time in the world of the novel.

Lucky No. 14: Blame it on the Bloggers.

I wasn't planning to buy the book this year (whoops - I mean last year!) although I've had my eye on it since its hardback release. The current edition in the shops is the unpopular trade paperback - size of a hardback, but with a paper cover, neither one thing nor the other - and I had planned to wait for the smaller paperback. But Hanna, Sarah, Laura and perhaps some other people I've missed, kept raving about the book and as it was a Christmas-themed book, I could not wait another year. I'm very pleased I gave in: N0S4R2 was an excellent beginning to the new year. Let's see if the rest of 2014's reading can live up to this one.

Key Quotes

Christmas was almost three months in the rearview mirror, and there was something awful about Christmas music when it was nearly summer. It was like a clown in the rain, with his makeup running.

He was as tall as Lincoln and just as dead.

"What are you really scared of? Scared that you're crazy? Or scared that you aren't?"

"I am a leaf on the wind," Lou said, and the man-nurse said, "Dude, don't say that. I don't want to start crying on the job."  (Hurrah for the Serenity reference!)

He believed in his own decency with all his heart. So it was with every true monster, Vic supposed.

End of Year Reading Cram Days 13 and 14

Saturday

Phew, it's almost over. I was most unimpressed when I realised that the last Saturday before Christmas was going to be filthy wet and stormy, and gloomily predicted that town would not only be very busy, but that everyone was going to be miserable as well as stressed. It was not as bad as it could have been; only had one tantrum from a child and one supercilious disgrace to the human race among the many customers I dealt with. Though I came very close to losing my temper with the latter, overall I think my general demeanor was friendly, if not jolly.

If I'd attempted jolly, I would no doubt have scared everyone off.
Hm. Maybe an idea for next year!

But I think the worst is behind me now. Apart from an afternoon shift on Christmas Eve, that's me done until Boxing Day, so I'm counting Christmas as starting from now. I really should get some presents wrapped this evening or I will find myself having to do them all on Christmas Eve. Again.

I didn't get a lot of reading done at lunch time as I was chatting with colleagues in the staffroom, but they left halfway through my break and I got through a few pages of Perdido Street Station. A plotline I thought had unceremoniously cut short has been picked up once more, and with it, so has my interest. The story has refocused on the characters, their actions and reactions, which I found far more readable than giant moths loose in the city. 

I don't expect to get much reading done tomorrow as I'll be spending the afternoon with my friend Sam and her twin daughters, before going on to a Carols By Candlelight service in the evening. I'd like to reread The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe before Christmas, or just after, and I also hope to read the other Christmas story in my A Christmas Carol paperback. I've had this book since 1996, according to the nameplate in the front (it was a Girls Brigade award when I was 11) but I don't think I've ever actually read "The Cricket on the Hearth." Maybe this year I'll put that right!

Fangirl, my Christmas present from Ellie is planned for Christmas afternoon, when presents are opened, dinner is eaten and I'm feeling stuffed and sleepy. N0S4R2 and Mr Penumbra are also high on the to-read pile, and I really ought to read my friend's Mindstar Rising before I see him again for New Year.

Saturday Stats

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station

Number of pages read today: 61

Running total: 1362 pages
Books finished: Four: The Explorer Gene by Tom Cheshire
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 13
My life outside books: Tentatively hoping the worst is over.

Sunday night:

Not a lot of reading time today, as predicted, but I managed to squeeze in that short Dickens story, "The Cricket on the Hearth" in between carol singing, visiting and present-wrapping. "The Cricket" is a lovely little story, a definite fireside read about a middle-aged man and his young wife, who, due to half-discovered secrets and low self-esteem, fears that he's lost his wife's love. Though less than 100 pages long, the first part of "The Cricket" establishes a very happy family, and even if John Peerybingle suspects his wife's faithfulness, I don't think there's any doubt on the reader's behalf. We can rest comfortable that it's all a misunderstanding, and wait for the truth to emerge in the third act. Despite Dickens' (well-earned) reputation for being a long-winded novelist, his shorter works prove that he can be concise when he chooses, painting vivid pictures with just a few well-chosen sentences. I really had no excuse for taking seventeen years to read this lovely story.

This afternoon, I visited my friend Sam at her parents' house, where she was staying for the weekend with her twin daughters, Alice and Evelyn. The girls are three years old and every time I see them they've grown up so much. Today, they were dancing around the living room singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Jingle Bells" as well as a song about a sheep from their nursery school's nativity play. Their granny very proudly informed me that Evie had been the best singer in the play. Judith joined us a bit later, with a very well-chosen Christmas present: a marble run. I think we had just as much constructing the set as the girls did rolling the marbles down the obstacle course, and Sam and her Mum were just glad the twins could keep themselves entertained for a while. 

In the evening, I went with my family to a Carols by Candlelight service, so I am now feeling that Christmas has arrived. Every year I forget that Christmas carols can be quite a challenge to sing, especially if I've had to walk to the church in the cold air, but I'm always disappointed if I don't get to sing my old favourites. After the carol service, I came home to finish wrapping my presents - two days earlier than usual! Go me! - poured myself a generous helping of Baileys, and have settled down with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. 

What I've read today: The Cricket on the Hearth,
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Number of pages read today: 142

Running total: 1504 pages
Books finished: Five: The Explorer Gene by Tom Cheshire
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville
The Cricket on the Hearth by Charles Dickens

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 15 and a piece of a big one.
My life outside books: Honorary Aunt duties and carol singing. Feeling festive. Hurrah!

End of Year Reading Cram: Days 10-12

What a week! Of course, with a week to go before Christmas, the shops are getting busier and during peak hours all I've been able to do is stay within a few feet of the counter and serve a steady stream of customers. Most people are full of Christmas cheer, if somewhat distracted, but  I've been coming home each evening feeling shattered and somewhat grumpy. This readathon has been a good distraction for me.

Wednesday evening was pretty miserable outdoors; wind and rain raging outside, so I disappeared into A Christmas Carol in a cosy armchair in front of the fire. Even though I've read the book dozens of times, and seen many adaptations over the years, to my shame I could not fight off the tears when the Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come shows the Cratchit family facing their grief over Tiny Tim with love and courage. That gets me every time.

I think everyone is very familiar with A Christmas Carol, but this year it felt more relevant than just a cosy classic. With foodbank usage increasing tenfold on the Isle of Wight in the past two years, Scrooge comes across as the callous monster Dickens intended, rather than a mere grump. I think his "Bah, humbug" is misinterpreted a lot of the time; after all, you can buy black Santa hats with the phrase embroidered on the front. But Dickens does not condemn Scrooge for disliking magic and sparkle. Christmas, Dickens argues, is a time to stop with the navel-gazing and to remember what is important; to think of oneself as part of the larger community, the human race. Scrooge's sin is his flat refusal to do that.

Thursday and today I've been reading through Perdido Street Station, and hope to get to the end today. Although I have really enjoyed Mieville's world-building in New Crobuzon, the grimy, steampunky city full of strange creatures, I'm finding the main plot - the battle with the terrifying giant slake-moths - less interesting than that which was promised in the first half. The storylines which interested me more seem to have petered out or come to an abrupt and unsatisfying end about halfway through, and the novel has become quite slow and very verbose. I like to think I have a very good vocabulary, but Mieville's long words and complicated descriptions often leave me feeling quite overwhelmed and longing for a dictionary.

Wednesday Stats

What I've read today: A Christmas Carol

Number of pages read today: 82

Running total: 1117 pages
Books finished: Three: The Explorer Gene by Tom Cheshire
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 11
My life outside books: Hectic tiring day, cosy evening

Thursday Stats

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station

Number of pages read today: 131

Running total: 1248 pages
Books finished: Three: The Explorer Gene by Tom Cheshire
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 11
My life outside books: Zzzzzz!

Friday Stats

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station

Number of pages read today: 53

Running total: 1301 pages
Books finished: Three: The Explorer Gene by Tom Cheshire
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 11
My life outside books: Adding the finishing touches to some handmade Christmas presents

End of Year Reading Cram: Days 6-7

Saturday

In the penultimate Saturday before Christmas, of course work was ridiculously busy. The good thing about weekends is that we don't have deliveries then, so there isn't the mad rush to get that all put out before the next lot comes in, while juggling a dozen jobs and all the customers. I was pretty much tied to the counter from ten till about half past 3, but though there was a constant stream of customers, they were pretty manageable on the whole. We had enough staff in, for once, and at least the day goes quickly when you're working non-stop.

Most of my day's reading took place over lunch. I was grateful to have the staff room to myself for most of my break, so I got stuck back into The Explorer Gene, reading about Jacques, the second generation of Piccards, who took over his father's work building a "bathyscaphe" (a kind of submarine) and being one of only 3 people ever to go to the bottom of the Marianas trench. For science, of course!

Saturday evening was the shop's Christmas meal out, which was delicious, enormous and a lot of fun. My manager (nattily dressed in a Christmas snowman jumper!) brought his girlfriend along, who I actually knew from school. It was good to catch up with her after ten years. Towards the end of the evening, probably as revenge for being outed as a former kissogram (which I think was pretty much common knowledge, but she looked shocked and embarrassed for the first time since I've known her) my colleague Joan made us all share stories of things we've done after drinking too much. Simon had woken up one morning to find a pub's hanging sign at the end of his bed, while James went missing for two days while his wife was pregnant. My story, of rambling at length to a new acquaintance about all the rude bits in Chaucer and Shakespeare, must have confirmed the impression I'm convinced my colleagues have of me as a weird academic type who doesn't really know how a twenty-mumble-year-old girl is supposed to act. (To be fair, that's not an inaccurate picture of me, only I don't think I'm all that clever, I just find books more interesting than the real world.)

What I've read today: The Explorer Gene

Number of pages read today: 50

Running total: 557 pages

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 5 1/2

My life outside books: Work's Christmas meal out. We've earned it.

Sunday

7 PM: What a miserable old day it is outside. But though I love summer for its bright sunshine and outdoorsiness, I've come to appreciate the winter for lazy afternoons with a book in front of the fire, perfect conditions for a readathon. I've lit some Christmassy scented candles, put some more baubles and ornaments on the tree and tinsel everywhere, and spent the afternoon sprawled on the sofa catching up with Perdido Street Station. I'm about halfway through the book now, and Isaac and his friends have been set against the government in their quest to end the giant moths' reign of terror. There has been betrayal, the sentient hoover has made its changed condition known - though who programmed it is still a mystery - there is a capricious and crazed giant spider-creature who seeks for the world to be woven into patterns only it can see, and terror has ensued. What has not happened is a lot of action centred on the station itself, and I have yet to find out why the book is titled as it is.

10PM: Mum cooked a delicious roast beef dinner this evening, which was a lovely surprise. I carried on with Perdido Street Station for another hour or so. Isaac and his comrades have certainly got in over their heads with regards to these moths. After a shocking turn of events, the plot seemed to wander off in favour of some really horrifying parasitic hand-creatures doing battle with the dementor-moths. Mieville has a very warped imagination when it comes to peopling his world with beings other than the fantasy stereotypes. Also, the "cleaning construct" has led our protagonists to a junkyard of sorts, to a meeting of its own kind, the sentient machines. Quite what these machines have planned is not yet clear, whether they are friend or foe or have a completely alien agenda. I've started to feel my attention waning, so I'm thinking I'll get ready for bed and then put on Love Actually and do a bit of knitting. I'm not back at work until Wednesday now - nice long weekend - so I can afford a late night. 

What I've read today: Perdido Street Station

Number of pages read today: 199

Running total: 756 pages

Number of mince pies consumed during readathon: 7

My life outside books: Decking the halls with boughs of... tinsel and baubles... fa la la la la la la la.

Sunday Summary: Christmas is coming!

One of the problems of working in retail is that you spend so long knowing that it's "nearly Christmas" in shop terms from September onwards, that you don't really believe it. Then December hits and you're just about getting in the mood and then it's over. Well, this year, I've started feeling like it really is coming up for Christmas... because I've got a cold. Unfortunately, since I've been in this job, Christmas and colds seem to go hand-in-hand. I've lost my voice. It must be Christmas! I was actually glad to get ill this week, because it means I'll be better by Christmas day and be able to really enjoy the festivities. It has, however, been an interesting experience trying to communicate with customers in a busy shop when I can barely speak above a whisper. Yesterday, I was seriously tempted to hold up cards with questions like: "Do you need a bag?" on them.

I didn't write a Sunday Summary last week because I went to visit my sister in London, where I got a lot of my Christmas shopping done - hurrah! I managed to restrain myself in Foyles bookshop, only emerging with one book for myself, and that because I hadn't brought enough to read on the train. I came away with Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, which I remembered reading about Ellie and Hanna fighting over on one of their epic shopping trips.

It was good to get away from the Island for a few days - it can get a bit claustrophobic living there. Visiting London for Christmas shopping also made me appreciate how comparatively quiet even the busiest times of year are in my little town. I met up with one of my best friends, Clare, in Kingston, where we had breakfast and wandered around the shops for a bit. Then, with half an hour to kill before I had to catch the train, we made the mistake of going into the Oxfam bookshop. Did I say I was restrained? Well, I was up until that last shop. Oops.

The green bag I'm holding contains 3 books (because once you make up your mind to buy one book, you lose all self-control and find yourself taking home any other book that catches your eye.) In Oxfam I found a hardback called The Explorer Gene, a biography of three generations of the same family who, in different ways, boldly went where no man had gone before. (Sorry not sorry. The family name is Piccard. I was most disappointed that there was no use of that tagline, when writing about the first man to fly in a balloon into the stratosphere, the first man to dive deepest in the ocean, and the first man to balloon non-stop around the world. Perhaps it was too obvious.) I picked up a paperback of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I've read already this year, but which reawakened my childhood interest in space travel, and finally, a Neil Gaiman book I've never read before, a collaboration with Michael Reaves called Interworld. 

Last week was my last holiday before Christmas, and I spent a lot of the time reading. As well as The Night Strangers which I reviewed here, I read Cecelia Ahern's latest novel, How To Fall In Love. I'm not much of a chick-lit fan, but I do enjoy Ahern's books; they are girly and sweet, but have more to them than just romance, shoes and shopping. They are a cosy read on a cold and grey winter's day. I've started rereading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and once more enjoying discovering the parts of the story I'd forgotten. The Quidditch World Cup is the first time you see much of the Wizarding community outside Hogwarts, and is always a lot of fun to read - until it all turns nasty.

My train-reading was Al Ewing's The Fictional Man, which I promise I will review during the next week. It's set in a world where fictional characters can be brought to life with cloning technology, and is a fascinating study of stories and humanity, the lines between fiction and reality and whether

they are as clear as you might think, about prejudice and the art of adapting a story from one medium to another. It is engrossing and hilariously funny; I embarrassed myself a couple of times laughing out loud on the train, or talking to the book at plot twists. In Forbidden Planet in Southampton, I picked up the first of Neil Gaiman's Sandman prequel. I confess I prefer reading comics when they are combined into graphic novel format - the adverts are annoying.

I've watched some more Star Trek: The Next Generation, though it hasn't hooked me as much as the original series, and though I like Wil Wheaton as an adult, his character Wesley is every bit as insufferable as I'd been warned: the know-it-all kid who is just so misunderstood but saves the day. It is an interesting change to have crew members' families aboard the Enterprise, but I don't like it. Most unprofessional. I also re-watched the first season of Dollhouse, and noticed a lot more in it the second time around. It was a lot easier to follow the clues when you know the twists they are leading up to.

My sister showed me Now You See Me, a film about a team of magicians who use illusion and trickery to commit massive crimes, shown through the eyes of the detective who is trying to stop them. A brilliant, gripping thriller that'll keep you guessing. I predicted the twist at the end, but I didn't really believe it: "It could be anything but this, therefore it probably is this." I'd be interested to watch it again and see what I missed that was staring me right in the face, because I know of at least one thing that was hidden in plain sight, but which I did not see because my attention was misdirected. Very clever film.

I finally went to see The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, which I enjoyed better than the first, probably because, though I had read the book, the story was not so fresh in my mind that I knew exactly what was going to happen and in which order. I think that is the best way for me to watch
films based on books I love, so that I'm not constantly comparing them. Because I'd been out of the world of Panem since the last film was released, I expected to watch it with a degree of detachment, but I found myself in tears very early on, when Katniss and Peeta visited District 11 on their Victory tour. Jennifer Lawrence was naturally amazing as Katniss (though her expression in a certain lift scene was pure Jennifer, and it was wonderful.) I wasn't convinced by President Snow in the first film, but this time I found him utterly chilling. My new favourite character was Johanna. I loved her in the book, and she was brought to life perfectly by Jena Malone. Again, there is a full review still to come.

This coming week I'll be participating in Dana and Jenny's End of Year Reading Cram read-a-thon, which I am very much looking forward to. I've stocked up on chocolate oranges, Pringles (sour cream and onion) mini stollen bites and mince pies to keep me company, because what is a read-a-thon without snacks? This week my aim is to finish Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and The Explorer Gene, as well as to get stuck into China Mieville's Perdido Street Station. I'm doing a readalong of the latter with my best friend Judith; it is a fantasy novel quite unlike any other, dark and a little bit steampunkish, and instead of being set in a world peopled with the same old elves, dwarves and wizards (or elves, dwarves and wizards under different names,) Mieville has created a completely new world in the city of New Crobuzon. So far I've only read part one of eight, but I'm already hooked. Finally, I'd like to read something Christmassy, probably a reread of an old favourite, such as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or A Christmas Carol. What are your reading plans for the week? Do you have any must-read Christmas books, either old favourites or new discoveries?

Twelve Days of Christmas 12: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

A glowing lamppost in the middle of a snowy wood. A faun, wrapped in a scarf, carrying parcels and an umbrella. This is one of the images that has lodged in my mind for as long as I can remember, and which is inextricably linked with Christmas. Which is odd, because there hasn't been a Christmas in Narnia in living memory. The country has been placed under a spell which means that it is always winter, but never Christmas.

When I was little, I always wanted so much to find Narnia in my wardrobe. It is so beautifully described, and though it is supposed to be a curse, I think it is at its most beautiful when shrouded in snow and ice. Perhaps I would grow tired of it if I lived in perpetual winter - after all, in real life, I am already wishing that spring would come again. But that snowy wood with its lamppost is the first sight you get of Narnia, and that is the most special, the most iconic image of this wonderful land in the wardrobe. And every time I read this book, which I do most winters, I am transported to the innocence of childhood, when, although even then I knew the story inside out, it never lost its magic and its wonder.

And with the arrival of Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter, and the return of the Great Lion Aslan, the Witch's power begins to wane. Father Christmas is seen once more. I love the fact that, although here Christ is known as Aslan and is in the form of a Lion, Christmas is still Christmas. (It was probably brought over by the first King and Queen of Narnia, Frank the Cabby and his wife Nellie in The Magician's Nephew.) Father Christmas is instantly recogniseable, as old as time, wise as well as jolly. I was pleased to see that in the recent film adaptation, Father Christmas was an old-fashioned, graver version of today's Santa, in a darker red coat, as befits an old-fashioned British story - and yet still very much recogniseable.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is, to my mind, the classic child's fantasy story, a fairy tale not only for children, but for those who have outgrown being too old for fairy tales. It never loses its magic.

And I still check the wardrobe in every room I stay in.

Merry Christmas to you all.

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens

It's the beginning of December, and for the first time I can remember at this time of year, there is a thick layer of snow on the ground. A drunken-looking snowman named Roderick is staring through the dining room window with his brussels sprouts for eyes, wearing a college scarf and mittens. Yesterday I went shopping for Christmas nibbles: sugared almonds, turkish delight, chocolate mints, etc. It was the perfect time for my annual re-read of A Christmas Carol.

I'm not going to recap the story here, as we all know it, even if we've never read the book. If it's not Mickey Mouse, it's the Muppets - everyone knows at least one version of the Charles Dickens classic. After all, it is something that has helped to shape what we think of as an old-fashioned Christmas. The words Scrooge, and "Bah! Humbug!" are universally recognised and applied to anyone who expresses anything but unconditional joy in the festive season. But on this reading, I found myself thinking that it is not Scrooge's dislike of tinsel and plum pudding that is his doom, but his callousness towards his fellow man. To Dickens the social commentator, celebrating Christmas is more than a time to be jolly and eating a big meal with the family, before arguing about whether to watch the Queen's Speech or the EastEnders doom-and-gloom seasonal special on TV. It's more than pretending to be grateful for the socks and reindeer jumper knitted by Granny.* Scrooge's nephew puts it best:

"I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of the people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therfore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it."

Ross Kemp as Eddie Scrooge in a
21st century take on the tale.

Christmas is interchangeable with remembering the one who the festival is named for and showing unconditional love to everyone, friend or stranger, and especially those with nothing. This is the author of Oliver Twist, after all. It surprised me that it was the jolly giant, the Ghost of Christmas Present, who showed the harshest judgement of Scrooge's callousness, quoting his own lines about surplus population, prisons and workhouses, back at him while his heart has been touched for the first time in a cold, cruel life. It is the Ghost of Christmas Present who reveals mankind's starving children: Ignorance and Want, in a scene often left out of adaptations. After all, Ignorance and Want are subjects that need to be addressed now, in Christmas Present, not in some dim and distant future.

Michael Gambon and classical singer
Katherine Jenkins are set to star with
Matt Smith in this year's Doctor Who
Christmas Special.

There are so many adaptations of the book: animated and live-action, colour and black-and-white, period and modern-day, that it would be impossible,or at least, highly impractical, to watch them all over one year. The first I ever saw was a very short version, Mickey's Christmas Carol, and I recently saw for the first time last year's Disney animated film with the voice of Jim Carrey. I'm not usually a fan of Carrey's acting - he tends towards melodramatic overacting in my opinion - but this was a remarkable adaptation, taken almost word-for-word and scene-for-scene from the book. Most of the moments that you might think were added for effect were in fact taken directly from Dickens' own words, and it would be a good one to watch for someone put off by Dickens' wordy style. (This is, after all, the author who takes a page to establish that "Marley was dead, to begin with," a page to illustrate that the French revolution occurred at a time much like any other and that people couldn't describe if it was good or bad.) There is an excellent modern-day version starring Ross Kemp, once a Mitchell from EastEnders, and even Doctor Who appears to be getting in on the act for its Christmas Special this year. But there is one version that I have to watch every December, that Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without: The Muppet Christmas Carol.

All together now...
"There goes Mr. Humbug,
There goes Mr. Grim.
If they gave a prize for being mean,
The winner would be him..."

*Actually, if you look in the shops, there are a lot of jumpers with reindeer motifs and suchlike.