Sunday Summary: Do It Anyway

Happy new year to you all. (Is it too late to be saying this now?) I hope you're all not too gloomy about Christmas being all over now and the return to normality - although Christmas isn't really over until the last of the snack food is gone. Fact. Or if you're a fellow retailer, perhaps you're relieved.

I quite like the beginning of a new year. The empty pages in the calendar with their infinite possibility; though I don't really do resolutions, I like to take the time to look over my life and see what has been a success in the last 12 months, and what changes I could make. This year has a massive change on the cards: I've handed in my notice at work, and will be leaving in four weeks' time. There is still a lot I love about my bookshop job, and I'm very proud of what I've achieved there in the last eight years, but I'm afraid of stagnating, and all the signs seem to be pointing towards it being time for me to say goodbye. But I'm leaving without anything certain to go to yet, which is almost as frightening. Financially I'll be OK for a while, as long as I only buy necessities, but of course the sooner I find a new job, the better. (In the spirit of "Do It Anyway," I've promised myself the reward of a trip to visit a friend in Canada if he's still there when I'm back in work.)

With the dark grey weather and long evenings, it's a good time to get back into my books, and Jessie Burton's The Muse is easing me out of my recent reading slump. I really loved her debut novel The Miniaturist, and The Muse is shaping up to be just as good, although I've reached a perspective-shift and need to adjust to the new characters and setting.

With my change in financial circumstances I'm going to be very strict with my spending and am enforcing a partial book-buying-ban (though I do intend to go to Bex's second London Bookshop Crawl next month, mostly for the social element and with a strict budget.) There are a few books out now or coming soon that I want to buy, such as Juno Dawson's new book Margot and Me, and the short "Spinster Club" book And A Happy New Year by Holly Bourne. But I shall also be making more use of the library and second-hand bookshops this year (as well as continuing the battle with my to-read pile and all the books I want to reread.)

I recently watched Netflix's surprise series The OA, which turned up with little fanfare. I'm not really sure what to make of it. It's the story of a young woman who reappears after going missing seven years previously. But she used to be blind and now she can see! As she struggles to adjust back to living an ordinary life, she meets with a few other people and tells them the story of her strange experiences in captivity. But how reliable is she? I'm not really sure if The OA was a bit good or really, really (but endearingly) bad. Certainly there were some elements that were utterly ridiculous; in particular the "movements" that were supposed to have mystical powers. But as much as I laughed at the weird interpretative dance scenes, I was left pondering over questions of reality and narrative, and thinking about the characters after the credits had finished.

Also there was the return of BBC's Sherlock on New Year's Eve, with another episode tonight and a third next Sunday. I wrote a rave review of the first series of Sherlock all the way back in 2010 when it first aired. I was a huge admirer of Stephen Moffat, one of the series' creators and also head writer of Doctor Who. But Moffat has come under fire a lot in the past few years, and his Doctor Who and Sherlock with it; although I don't agree with a lot of the things I read, I can't help but keep in mind some of the criticism when viewing his work, and I think my enjoyment of the stories has suffered as a result. And the series has never reached the heights of the first episode "A Study in Pink." I think that the rules of TV mean that each story has to be bigger than the last, the stakes higher, the conflict darker, and it has moved away from the source material a bit. Last week's episode was a thriller more than a mystery, and it employed an egregious use of a much-criticised narrative trope that I don't think is likely to be forgiven any time soon. I understand some of the reasons why the writers made the decision that they did, but it's disappointing. A good writer has awareness of the tools of their trade; not just their words, but the character archetypes, tropes, cliches to avoid, common narratives to subvert. And unfortunately in that regard, Moffat and Gatiss are perhaps not quite such great storytellers as I used to believe.

Edited later: Although I still haven't forgiven them for last week's "twist," this week's episode, "The Lying Detective" was pretty epic, with a genuinely creepy villain and some real shockers - some that I'd foreseen in part, others that I think were deliberately written to make you kick yourself for not seeing and exposing even the supposedly savvy viewers' internalised prejudices and assumptions. Okay, Moffat and Gattiss, you win round 2.

One more episode of the season, and although I do enjoy Sherlock over all, I kind of hope this'll be the last series, to leave us wanting more instead of carrying on past its welcome, as too often happens with popular series. Best to go out on top, I think.

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: May in Review

Wow, it feels like ages since I've written anything on here! Everything's fine, I just haven't felt much like writing reviews lately; I've read plenty of books but not had all that much to say about them. But I might ramble a little about a few of them in this post, we'll see.

Some of the things I've done

My work shifts have been all over the place the last few months, although fingers crossed they'll be getting back to something like normality from now on. We've got a new girl just starting at work, doing Sundays and a couple of afternoons in the week, and my manager told me she reminded her of a younger version of me. Having met her, briefly, I sort of agree. In about a two-minute conversation we compared our to-read piles, favourite books, and I already promised to lend her one of my four copies of Anne of Green Gables. I think reading that book is a quick way to get to know me! Must find out what her equivalent book is. I'm sure she'll have one.

When I haven't been at work I've been writing; I've picked up the children's story I began for NaNoWriMo last year and am giving serious thought to submitting it to Mslexia magazine's First Children's Book competition in the autumn. I've nearly finished the first draft, but have discovered I'm already over the suggested word count for a children's book!

I had a week off a couple of weeks ago and spent a couple of days up in London, staying with my sister Jenny. While she was at work I did some exploring, and some book shopping - although only on the first day. I also went up to Camden Market, which is awesome, and as it was a lovely sunny day, I walked up the road to Primrose Hill, where I spent the afternoon sitting on the grass and reading. The Primrose Hill bookshop is one of my new favourites; it's small and cosy. While I was in there, the bookseller, Chrissie, was whizzing around the shop finding recommendations for one of her regulars who wanted some holiday reading.

By some fortuitous chance, an old friend, Anna, happened to be in London the same week, and had got in touch with Jenny suggesting meeting up for drinks. So we found a nice little pub next to the British Library, called the Rocket, and spent a lovely evening between there and Pizza Express reminiscing about our schooldays, making little confessions about being horrid teenagers (only a little horrid, as teenagers go, but I think we were all a little relieved to find the others had no memory of the wrongs we'd felt terrible for years for doing to each other.)

And the following day, as a belated birthday treat for Jenny, we went to Shoreditch to Lady Dinah's Cat Emporium for tea: a cafe where cats roam free and say hello to and play with all the visitors. The cats are very well looked after - the entry fee pays for their welfare, they get days off and all have their own members of staff, and there are all sorts of toys and climbing apparatus to keep them amused (although one of the kittens liked nothing better than a scruffy piece of string. Because cat.)

I'm back on the Island now, for the time being, and am enjoying the summer sunshine. It's a bank holiday weekend, and tomorrow I'm heading for the beach. We're nearly into June and it's been quite warm; let's see if I'm brave enough to go in  the sea yet. I've sorted through my to-read shelf and pulled my science fiction books to the front, because for some reason I've come to think of that genre as good beach reading. I've got sci-fi classics (Iain M. Banks, Bradbury, Asimov, H. G. Wells) shiny new or newish books (The Book of Strange New Things, The Peripheral, Speak) and some weird and probably dreadful old books I've found in second-hand bookshops, which I will not name and shame in case I slander unrecognised gems.


Some of the Books I've read:

Beside Myself by Ann Morgan, and When I Was Invisible by Dorothy Koomson

These were publishers' proof copies that my sister got from work, and it was interesting to read them one after the other, because they shared several themes. In Beside Myself, a set of twins swap places as a prank one day - but then one of them refuses to switch back. Towards the end, one of the characters asked something along the lines of "What does it matter? You're twins, you live the same life, what does it matter which name you are called?" But even from a very early age, different expectations are put on Ellie and Helen. One is a leader, one is a follower. One is perceived as a good girl, the other as a troublemaker. People respond to the twins' actions in different ways according to who is perceived to be doing them. It was a dark, troubling read.

Meanwhile, When I Was Invisible follows the lives of best friends Roni and Nika (Both Veronica/ka Harper) whose lives take very different directions after a shared ordeal leads to one betraying the other. Roni returns home after spending several years as a nun, while Nika is trying to rebuild her life after witnessing a terrible crime. Also a rather heavy read, but I found it much more satisfying than Beside Myself.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Sparks

What I expected: A gender-flipped, feminist Dead Poet's Society. Progressive teacher shakes up the establishment but earns undying loyalty from her best students.
What I got: Miss Brodie shakes up the establishment, all right, but she is a manipulative, capricious and sharp-tongued woman who has affairs with other members of staff and sends some of her pupils down destructive paths. The narrative is curious, flitting between past and future and casually revealing what the girls' futures hold while they are still schoolgirls. Miss Brodie is rather more interesting and unsettling than the usual inspiring, unconventional schoolteacher figure, a deconstruction of the trope - except for the fact that she pre-dates many of the iconic examples!

Anne of Avonlea by L. M. Montgomery

Being the second book in my Anne of Green Gables omnibus, I used to read the two books back-to-back as a child, and Avonlea was just as much a favourite as its predecessor. Nowadays, though, I read it less often than Green Gables and Anne of the Island. It's a very episodic book, although the romance between Miss Lavendar Lewis and Stephen Irving towards the end foreshadows Anne and Gilbert's relationship (which for many readers - not this cynical old maid, though - is the main story of Anne.) It was lovely to reread after a few years, to meet Mr Harrison, to spend time seeing the Avonlea Village Improvement Society, to just spend the time with some old friends.

But the character of Paul Irving has come to irritate me no end, although with a feeling of guilt because he is in many ways a lot like Anne. Do different expectations for boys and girls influence what traits one can allow? But then Walter Blythe, in the later books, takes after his mother too, and he is one of my favourite characters. Walter has more depth of character, though, a melancholic temperament, inner turmoil, while Paul's ongoing struggle is with eating all his porridge. He's just so sickeningly good, and the "poetic" temperament Anne sees in him reminds me of nothing so much as Madeleine Bassett from Jeeves and Wooster as an eight-year-old boy.

Currently reading: The Time Machine by H. G. Wells

The original time-travel adventure. I'm only a few chapters in so far, but it reads surprisingly fresh and contemporary, with its succinct explanation of the Fourth Dimension, and the Time Traveller's theories of the future evolution of mankind into a gentle, physically frail and unambitious race living in a paradise - or so it seems at first! This is a book that shaped science fiction as we know it: without it there would be no Doctor Who, no Back to the Future, and everything else would be quite different too!

I'm not sure when I'll get back to blogging regularly; probably not until I've finished my first draft of my work in progress, but watch this space. I will be back!

Sunday Summary: January in review

The last month has been a fairly quiet one after the madness that is working the Christmas season in retail, and now I get some recovery time in my first holiday since the beginning of November. Next Saturday is the London Bookshop Crawl which Bex has been organising, and which I am so excited for. A big group of us are getting together to stock up on books and cake, beginning at Foyle's and ending at the big Waterstone's in Piccadilly before heading off to Pizza Express afterwards. I've met Bex and Laura before, last year, and I recently found out one of the other attendees, Hannah, also lives on the Isle of Wight, so we met up for coffee the other day to get to know each other a little, and ended up geeking out wildly about books in general, and TV and Netflix series - always a good starting point for a new friendship. And I'm very excited to meet a couple of people who I've "known" online for years but never met.

So, how did I do with my January reading?

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet - Becky Chambers (In progress)

Upstairs at the Party - Linda Grant

The Drawing of the Three - Stephen King

Silence is Goldfish - Annabel Pitcher

The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness

Disclaimer - Renee Knight

Career of Evil - "Robert Galbraith"

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (reread)

Our Mutual Friend - Charles Dickens

Also Read:

The Ghost Hunters - Neil Spring (begun December 2015)

Sofia Khan is Not Obliged - Ayisha Malik

Second Term at Trebizon - Anne Digby

The Tree of Seasons - Stephen Gately

The Trebizon boarding school stories were one of my favourite series when I was growing up, alongside the Chalet School and Malory Towers books, but they were rather lesser-known than the others, marking the very end of the school story fashion. So imagine my delight when I learned that Egmont have started reprinting the books again. I found this out through Robin Steven's Twitter feed, and practically started screaming with excitement. I'm pretty sure that Miss Stevens must be at least partly to thank for this rediscovery, with the success of her Wells and Wong mysteries making old-fashioned boarding schools cool again. Yes, I do own all but one of the series already, but I actually quite like the modern-style covers a lot more than, say, the Enid Blyton redesigns which I have grumbled about before, and I'm so pleased that a new generation will get to meet Rebecca, Tish, Sue and the others. I've no intention of buying second copies of all of the books, but I do need to show my support of the reprint, don't I? (Plus one or two of my old editions are very battered.)

February To-Read Pile

Note: I don't expect to stick closely to this list, what with the bookshop crawl expected to add at least another half-dozen books to my shelf, but these are some of the books I'd like to read in the not-too-distant future:

Left over from January:

• The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness
• The Drawing of the Three - Stephen King
• Upstairs at the Party - Linda Grant
• Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - Susanna Clark

New or re-entries:

• A Place Called Winter - Patrick Gale
• The Book of Strange New Things - Michel Faber

Books I want to reread soon:

• The Charioteer - Mary Renault
• American Gods - Neil Gaiman. 

American Gods was on my shortlist but not read on Bex's last Rereadathon (are we going to do another one this spring?) With the work apparently coming along nicely on the TV adaptation, and the casting of Ricky Whittle as Shadow, (not someone I know, but he looks the part more than any other actor I've seen suggested) that book has made its way back onto my to-read list. I've read most of Gaiman's books several times, and American Gods seems to come out every two or three years or so. It's time once more.

Things that made me happy this week

Hello and happy Sunday! This week I've decided to borrow Ellie Lit Nerd's blogging idea. I'll start by being honest and say that I've been struggling a bit this week. Not entirely unhappy, but work has been getting me down, bringing a return of anxiety and that sinking feeling when I wake up which I'd been glad to leave behind after high school. But I've still been able to focus on the little things that bring me joy, and that's what I'm going to write about today.

1. Uncovering my first "novels" stashed away in a box. When I was ten years old I wrote a book heavily influenced by ripped off from Enid Blyton's Malory Towers series, about a girl called Alice Thomas who goes away to boarding school. This was written in pencil in a Lion King notebook, and followed up by two or three sequels, before I abandoned the series for good. I plan to type the stories up before the pencil fades away completely.
2. Late starts, early finishes. True, a six-hour working day doesn't feel that much shorter than an eight-hour one, so despite working more days than usual, I won't get paid any more, but it's been very pleasant being able to sleep in until 8AM (much more civilised than 7) and read a few chapters over a leisurely breakfast. 
3. Summer is here at last! And thanks to the aforementioned shorter days, I'm not missing all the sun from being at work; I've been able to sit outside in the garden with a book in the evenings. Time for beach trips and barbecues, I think.
4. Chatting about books. Customers, don't expect to be able to sneak a Neil Gaiman book past me without me pouncing on you and fangirling wildly. It won't happen! And on Friday I didn't have time to eat all of my lunch as my favourite colleague Simon was in the staffroom reading The Silkworm, and we ended up having a long conversation about J. K. Rowling, Game of Thrones, Terry Pratchett and adaptations of all of the above. 
5. The MixRadio app on my phone. You select a couple of musicians, and it plays a load of suggestions based on your choices. My playlist came up with quite a variety; lots of Bob Dylan, Amanda Palmer, David Bowie, Evanescence (which brought back a lot of memories from my angsty high school days) as well as songs from Spamalot and Rocky Horror and much more. And all from just a couple of suggestions.

What has made you happy this week?

Sunday Summary: Migraines, steam trains and Shakespeare... IN SPACE!

Well, here we are on another Sunday afternoon, and LOOK! THERE IS A SHINY YELLOW THING IN THE SKY! (Which reminds me, I have a machine full of soggy washing that needs to go out on the line - which I'm sure you really don't need to know about.) I've had a bit of a rough week, with the migraine to end all migraines - it started up on Good Friday and lasted at least a week. At some point it probably stopped being a migraine but even now there's just enough residual effects to say, "Get used to me, this is your head now." Thanks, brain.

So last Saturday, the day before Easter I had to take the day off from work, meaning that I inadvertently had the whole bank holiday weekend off, though I couldn't really enjoy it, being tucked up in bed, unable to sleep, but also unable to read or watch DVDs or do anything that involved looking at things. 


Monday I was a bit better, and me, my sister, two cousins and one cousin's fiancee went out to the Isle of Wight Steam Railway for the day. When my mum was growing up, her family owned an old train carriage, which had been turned into a holiday chalet called Sunny Siding, and lived in a field near the sea. I never got to visit it as a holiday home, as it was sold back to the railway when the farmer wanted his field back, and it spent a long time being restored, with added disabled access (subtly hidden in the period design) and went back on the rails in the early 2000s, with a big family outing for the official opening. Unfortunately I was off on a university visit that day. But my cousin's fiancee Libby is a big steam train nerd (she will fit right at home in our family) and so we spent a lovely bank holiday at the steam railway centre at Haven Street, which also had a falconry display, my sister got to hold a tiny little owl called Chive, and there was a very attractive man working there who was dressed as a pirate for reasons I was unable to determine. Then, after our train ride (in the family carriage, naturally) it was off to the local carvery for a very late lunch or perhaps early dinner. 

Me, Jenny, Stewart and Jeremy

What else I've been up to:

Reading: Mostly sci-fi magazines, rather than books, thanks to the aforementioned migraine, though I was most displeased with Morrison's for displaying them under "Men's interest." Fortunately, the other shops' magazine departments are - mostly - displayed by subject rather than gender. I also read the second Geek Girl book by Holly Smale - how has it taken me so long to read this brilliant series? - and finished Tess Gerritson's Gravity, a thriller set on the International Space Station. There is a high body count, but a satisfying resolution, although perhaps best not read when you're ill. Also, the main character is called Emma Watson, so of course I pictured the actress, if a bit older and with an American accent.

Watching: Dabbling about on Netflix, watching odd episodes of Buffy. I also caught part of the new Thunderbirds Are Go! The original Thunderbirds was the first of many obsessions when I was seven, and I'm very suspicious of any remake, especially when they've made the famous puppet characters into brightly-coloured CGI and (possibly) killed off Jeff Tracy! What I saw did not fill my purist heart with confidence, but I'll watch a few episodes properly before making any judgement. It can't be worse than if they were to make a live-action adaptation, make Alan Tracy a teenager and focus all the attention on him. Which of course would never happen. Nope.


Looking Forward To: going to see Return to the Forbidden Planet in Portsmouth. This was going to be tomorrow, but I realised that the only way home would be by taking the midnight car ferry, arriving on the Island at 1AM, which would be fine by me, but I'm going with Judith who starts work at 7AM the next day. So we changed our tickets to Friday, which has an earlier showing. I was in a school production of that show when I was in year 8 and have such fond memories. Whenever I hear any of the songs on the radio or in a shop, it lifts my mood right up. If you're not familiar with it, Return to the Forbidden Planet is Shakespeare's The Tempest... IN SPACE. With rock'n'roll! It'll be great to watch it from the audience this time.

Other Doings: You may be aware that colouring has suddenly become an acceptable pastime for adults, just in the last few months, largely thanks to the Secret Garden colouring book by Joanna Basford. It is recommended as "art therapy," a way of de-stressing and taking your mind off things. I can confirm it really works; Friday I woke up feeling very miserable and lonely. That day my Anne of Green Gables colouring book arrived, which I had ordered through Hive, and I spent the rest of the day (and also yesterday evening) colouring in the pictures. It's got an abridged version of the story, not just pictures, and I love it. It was Anne of Green Gables, it existed, therefore I had to have it.

Sunday Summary: Miniature catastrophes and minor disappointments

Hello and good evening. I hope you've had a good week. On the blog, this week's been all about commemorating the life and works of Sir Terry Pratchett, who unfortunately passed away the other day. It's been a change for me to focus solely on one author, rather than my usual hopping between genres. From the Discworld series alone, I read an old favourite, a new favourite and one book which will never be on my favourites list - but that's okay, because there are so many excellent Discworld books out there, they can't all be the best. If you're interested in discovering the works of Terry Pratchett for the first time, but don't know where to start, Bex and Kirsti have both got good guides to the series.

Last night I rewatched the adaptation of Going Postal which Sky One produced a few years ago, following on from Hogfather (which is near-perfection) and The Colour of Magic (which I don't think I actually watched all the way through.) Going Postal is the story of a con man who is saved from the gallows under one condition: that he take an honest job getting the Ankh-Morpork Post Office up and running again. Going Postal is one of my favourite books in the series, and the Sky One production has an inspired cast, with Richard Coyle (the funny one from Coupling) as the lead, the unfortunately-named Moist Von Lipwig, Claire Foy as the equally unfortunately-named Adora Belle Dearheart, and Charles Dance as the icy, sinister Lord Vetinari. That last piece of casting in particular was sheer brilliance. However, I found that the adaptation was not as good as the cast and source material. For one thing, there was too much angst and melodrama, and not enough humour. Moist is haunted by black-and-white visions of the far-reaching consequences of his "victimless" crimes - which, yes, he needed to confront, but there was no subtlety to it. And is it the case that if TV shows a character who smokes, they have to make a Very Big Thing about it, and beat you over the head with its moral that Smoking Is Bad? Adora's smoking is presented not as a minor character trait but as a Tragic Flaw that Must Be Overcome. Is this the 21st century equivalent of the Hays code?

Going Postal is visually spectacular, and you instantly forget that this is set in a fantasy world, because it presents to you an established Ankgh-Morpork with little fanfair, and it recreates the later books' feeling of being more like Dickens' London which just so happens to contain dwarfs, werewolves, golems and banshees among its population. It just didn't quite seem offbeat enough for me. Entertaining, but the book was better.

Away from the drama in my books, tv and CD player, I had an unfortunate misadventure at work on Thursday when I got myself trapped in the lift between two floors. It was entirely my own fault, and I take full responsibility: I was taking the hoover upstairs to put away, and was a bit careless in winding up the cable. The plug got stuck in the doors, but for some reason that didn't stop the lift from moving as far as it could before shuddering to a halt. And it would not go back down again. I had to ring the bell and call for help, and it was the end of the day, we had just a couple of members of staff in and they were at the other end of the shop and didn't hear me. Eventually a customer heard me calling and fetched help. I could force the inside doors open, but the outside doors would not budge. Eventually my colleague Simon was able to reset the lift and bring it back down to the ground floor, and all in all I was only in there for maybe twenty minutes. But it is not an experience I can recommend.

Friday was my day off, and I sat outside to watch the much-hyped eclipse of the sun. It was a very British eclipse; the sky was completely clouded over, and the only difference I noticed was that the clouds turned a slightly darker shade of light grey, and it got very cold. Also the seagulls sounded very distressed when the eclipse began.

In the afternoon, of course, the sun came out and was beautiful. Judi came over after work - she works just down the road from my house, and finished at lunch time - and we set out a table in the back garden where we played Carcassonne and Trivial Pursuit (regular and Disney versions) before going indoors to watch The Empire Strikes Back. 

What have you been up to this week? Did you get a better view of the eclipse? (i.e. any view at all!)

Sunday Summary: Shopping and another sad farewell

Hello to you all on this Sunday evening (or whatever time and day it is when you're actually reading this.) It's Mother's day in the UK (though I believe some countries celebrate it later on in the year) so here's a special hello to all the mothers reading this blog, and I'd also like to spare a thought for all those who wish they were mothers, but are not, and those who no longer have their mothers with them. Here's (a picture of) some flowers for you all.

I'd only been back on the Isle of Wight for a week, but this week I felt the need to get back onto the mainland. Going back to work hit me hard - not for any discernable reason, but I've been feeling a bit of anxiety and claustrophobia. So on Monday I decided to take a day trip over to Southampton, where I met up with my friend Ruth for masses of ice cream at Sprinkles Gelato, a bit of shopping, and we ended up going to Wagamama's for dinner. It was lovely to catch up with Ruth, who is in her last year at Southampton university, and we wandered around the shops, especially Forbidden Planet and Waterstone's, where we both invested in a few of the 80th anniversary Penguin mini-books (which, at 80p, and only a few pages, do not count towards my "read three, buy two" rule for this year.) I also picked up the Secret Garden colouring postcard book that has made colouring acceptable for grown ups. I'd been planning to get a colouring book anyway - it can be very calming and therapeutic - and about the same time, Jess and Ray seem to have set a trend and made colouring cool again. (I've also ordered an Anne of Green Gables colouring book through Hive. It's Anne, it exists, therefore I must have it!

A mere fortnight after the death of Leonard Nimoy, the sci-fi and fantasy world was hit with another sad loss when Sir Terry Pratchett passed away last week. Pratchett is one of the UK's best-loved authors, and one whose books I've been reading since I was about thirteen years old. I've read nearly all of his Discworld series, and one of this year's goals was to fill in the last few gaps of his backlist. I don't feel in quite so much of a hurry now I know there won't be any more. Sir Terry had been furiously battling Alzheimer's disease for the last few years, but over the past several months it became clear that the disease was winning - a dreadful thing to happen to such a brilliant mind. When mum told me the news I was first angry, then so shaken by this second sadness that I think my brain just shut down for a while. And yet, at the same time, I don't think it's really hit me yet.

Terry Pratchett at Forbidden Planet, London, November 2005

Bex has decided to hold a Terry Pratchett reading week on her blog, and I'll be doing likewise, with reviews of his books and adaptations, a "favourite moments" post (which, I'll give you due warning, could be long) and maybe even a guest post or two.

So farewell, Sir Pterry, and thanks for the laughs, the rage, the wisdom and the punes, or plays on words. Long may your legacy continue.

Sunday Summary: I ATEN'T DEAD, or January in Books

I'm back! Not that I've been anywhere, but alas, my laptop has been awaiting repairs for a couple of weeks, leaving me fidgety and impatient, as you'll have noticed if you follow me on Twitter.

I'm working my way down my to-read pile, with a self-imposed read-3-buy-2 rule (rereads and borrowed books are not included here.) I'm also trying out the idea of giving myself a monthly to-read list, although of course it is subject to variation.

January's to-read pile

Cross Stitch - Diana Gabaldon

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland In A Ship Of Her Own Making - Catherynne M. Valante

Life After Life - Kate Atkinson

The Last Days Of Rabbit Hayes - Anna McPartlin

The First Fifteen Lives Of Harry August - Claire North

The Thirteenth Tale - Diane Setterfield

William Shakespeare's The Jedi Doth Return - Ian Doescher

Elizabeth Is Missing - Emma Healy

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring - J. R. R. Tolkien

Not bad going then! Just one book left from my to-read list, and I also reread Anne of the Island. I plan to write a post or two of mini-reviews to catch up with my blogging by the end of the week - I am very far behind already this year.

My to-read pile is now a to-read shelf for the first time in a couple of years, as I recently replaced my big bookcase with one just as tall and wide, but with extra depth so that I can shelve two rows of books instead of one.It looks very strange having a shelf full of these unread books which I haven't yet made my own by reading. It looks like someone else's bookcase, albeit someone very cool whose shelves I'd be keen on raiding.

Of course, it caused much angst and agonising over which books should be hidden behind the others. I've arranged my shelves roughly by genre, and still have a Lord of the Rings feature shelf with my Lego Mines of Moria set (and the rest of my LotR Lego on top.)

I've read seven new books last month, as well as the two rereads, and have set myself another pile for February. (Not pictured, the first Elly Griffiths thriller, which I reserved in the library.) Of course this is all subject to change.

I bought two new books in January - The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, and of course the latest Neil Gaiman short story collection called Trigger Warning. But I'll be buying no more, no matter how good the offer is, until the end of February when I'm due to meet up with Bex and Laura and hit the London bookshops. Yay!

February's to-read pile

The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August - Claire North

The House at Sea's End - Elly Griffiths 

The Elements of Eloquence - Mark Forsyth

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers - J. R. R. Tolkien

Trigger Warning: Short Fictions and Disturbances - Neil Gaiman

The Girl on the Train - Paula Hawkins

The Year I Met You - Cecelia Ahern

The Handsome Man's De Luxe Cafe - Alexander McCall Smith

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.

Sunday Summary: NaNoWriMo and fancy gadgets ancient and modern

Hi all. My laptop and I have migrated downstairs today from my bedroom to the dining room, where there is warmth and coffee. NaNoWriMo has delayed my return to proper blogging. Considering that I'd had no thoughts of doing it this year, I'm rather pleased that I've just passed 23 000 words and am getting really stuck into my story. This does mean, however, that there hasn't been much reading this week. I will get reviewing soon, I promise. At the very least, I want to rave at great length about Stephen King's 11.22.63. 

This month I've fallen back into my long-lost late-night writing habits formed during my student days, finding myself getting very productive between about 11PM and 1AM. I'm really rather excited to have got that part of me back, although it's not so good when I have an 8.30AM start at work the next day. But this month I've been working more shorter working days, which fits in my writing pattern quite well. It's such a relief to get so invested in a story of my own making again, to have the creative part of my brain ticking over even in the background - although I'm sure it's making me ditsier and more scatterbrained than ever.

One of the NaNoWriMo pep talks, from Divergent author Veronica Roth, gave some advice I took on board: to break out of one's own well-established writing habits and see if any other ways work. I've long been a strictly linear writer: start at the beginning and carry on until I get to the end (or, more often, lose interest and give up.)  This time around, I've done a little bit of skipping around in the story, writing later scenes and leaving some of the joining scenes until later. I use Scrivener writing software (after an unfortunate incident where I was accidentally saving it as an OpenOffice document to a shared dropbox, completely unsuited to the purpose, and someone else deleted it, surely having read enough to know that it was not meant to be there. NIGHTMARE!)

I fear I'm rather a hardened cynic when it comes to romance, so it's been a real challenge to switch off my inbuilt censor which screams "NO, NO, THIS IS TOO CHEESY AND PREDICTABLE!" whenever my character even, say, notices that another person is attractive and likable. I don't want to be a bitter old spinster! I am not writing a romance novel, but there are love relationships in my novel. At uni I took a course in genre-writing, and we were due to study a Mills and Boon book, but the tutor took pity on us and dropped it from the course. So now I started introducing my character's love interest and realised I didn't know how to describe them, or show growing friendship and attraction. So I've downloaded a couple of free ebooks that I probably wouldn't even get out of the library using the self-serve machines, and am reading critically, thinking about what I like and what I don't like. I can't be having with too much of the characters talking about their feelings, for example, and there needs to be more of a plot than just the mushy stuff.

Yes, you read it right. I, Katherine Edwards, ink-and-paper loyalist, have downloaded some ebooks. No, I have not been won over to the dark side and bought an e-reader, but I did invest in a shiny new smartphone and downloaded the Kobo App, for emergency bookless situations. Anne of Green Gables was, of course, my first freebie. (That's four, when added to my hardback and two paperback copies.) I'm undecided whether e-books count as additions to the to-read pile or not. I've also started an Instagram account, although so far it just has a couple of trial-selfies (with ridiculous faces) and shelfies.

I've also inherited a sewing machine. It's a vintage (read "old") Singer that my Grandma bought in the '70s, but still seems to be in good condition. Since she moved into a nursing home earlier this year, it has been passed on to me. I'll admit I'm a bit scared of sewing machines - they have a tendency to get out of hand when I try to use them. But Mum has promised to help me figure out how to use it, and I already have grand dressmaking plans, and a Great British Sewing Bee book to help me get started.

This week I have been:

Reading: The Last Battle by C.S.Lewis. Never my favourite of the Narnia books, it's got some great stuff in it but I've always found it troubling and uncomfortable.

Also the aforementioned cheesy romance novel on e-book, which I will not name and shame. It is not terrible, but it is not my cup of tea.

Watching: Not much, but a bit of Star Trek and Heroes. I'll be honest, the main reasons I'm still watching Heroes is because of Sylar being enjoyably psychotic, Hiro and Ando being adorable, and Claire's story is still a bit interesting. I'm a bit lost among the other characters and subplots, but I don't like giving up on a story partway through.

Stuck in my head: Taylor Swift: "Shake it off," Kansas: "Carry On Wayward Son," "I'll make a man out of you" from Mulan, and "Little Talks" by Of Monsters And Men. Also some of the songs from Mary Poppins.

Looking Forward To: This time next week I'll be on holiday. I wasn't planning to go away during my time off, but I found out that Cary Elwes, who was Westley in The Princess Bride - one of my favourite films of all
time - is signing a book he wrote about making that film, in Forbidden Planet in London. At first I muddled the dates and thought it was the Saturday, my last day at work, because things are always on Saturdays and it seemed inconceivable (ho ho) that it would be any other day. Then I checked again, and it's actually the following Tuesday. The book was on my Christmas list, so I decided I would break my book-buying ban and go up for the signing, and do some Christmas shopping, and see my sister all at the same time.

Sunday Summary: fly-by post 4

Well, my manic October is over and now I go back to having weekends of a sort again, even if, as is the case this week, actually in the middle of the week. Hurrah! But although I'm doing fewer hours at work, with Halloween over, the world is ready to catch up with the retail calendar and launch into Christmas, and of course things will only get busier. This Thursday I actually ran out of tasks to do. (There is never actually nothing to do, even if it's just cleaning and replenishing the shelves, but I stopped chasing my tail for a moment, making the most of the fact that this was probably going to be my last afternoon like that.

This week I have been:

Reading: 

The last part of 11.22.63. Beautiful, devastating, a wonderful book (that has already altered the way I think time travel in other fiction, such as last night's Doctor Who.) Stephen King does it again! I plan to write a proper review of this one later this week.

The Guest Cat by Takashi Hiraide, a novella about a thirty-something Japanese couple who get adopted by their neighbours' cat, and form a bond with this darling creature. A pensive, poetic read that is worth taking time over, despite its short length.

Rereading Redshirts, one of my top books of last year, and one which I recommend to anyone who has affectionately noticed the absurdity inherent in certain kinds of science fiction TV shows. A must-read if you like the film Galaxy Quest.

Watching: 

A bit more of Heroes - season two is a short one, due to the writers' strike of a few years ago.

Captain America, to remind my dad of Steve Rogers' story so far, before we watch the sequel. (The Avengers is, naturally, also on the cards.)

A bit more Star Trek: The Next Generation. There are some great, thought-provoking episodes of this series, but the fact remains that it doesn't capture my affections as much as the original series, the original cast. I do like Worf and Data, though.

 

The Addams Family, on Netflix. It seemed appropriate Halloween viewing, with hot chocolate and marshmallows, while tucked up with a rotten head cold.

Doctor Who. The first part of the season finale was powerful stuff. I've been a bit ambivalent about this season, enjoying each episode well enough, but not really hanging on to the story during the week. A recurring small character through the series really gave me the creeps in a way I term "the Umbridge Effect" - making the watching experience less enjoyable when the character is on screen. But a few weeks back, I stumbled upon someone's apparently random idea about this person which, if it were true, might make me rethink my approach to them.

Last night's episode was really powerful. An unforeseen* major event within the first minutes, some fine acting, especially from Jenna Coleman, some fantastic lines (including a reference to Peter Capaldi's most famous previous role), a journey somewhere that seemed impossible even for the TARDIS, and some huge plot twists that were unusual in being none the worse for being anticipated.

Scaring myself with: just the thought of getting scared by certain Stephen King books. Perhaps it is not a good idea to read his "Nightmare fuel" page on TV Tropes just before bed. I was the child who had to be taken out of birthday parties and school assemblies because I'd freak out when I saw a clown. Guess which book is not on my immediate to-read pile!

Can't sleep. Clown'll eat me.

But who needs Stephen King when you've got some of the stuff in that last Doctor Who episode? There was a time watching that episode that made me really wonder if the show had crossed a line, gone too far - and I like it when it goes dark. There were some ideas that will linger uncomfortably for a long time, I think.

Sneezing: A lot, especially (naturally) on my day off.

Writing: Well, I've made a start on NaNoWriMo, although I didn't even manage the wordcount for the first day. That's fine. For me it's not about reaching the 50 thousand words, so much as getting back into writing stories, and sticking with it. I don't know who I am when I can't write, and it's been such a long time.

Also, this week I hope to get back into some proper reviews for the blog, now I've (potentially) got a little more time on my hands.


SPOILER in white text >>> 

Actually, I did think for a moment, "Danny's too close to the road" before the phone went silent his end.  <<<
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