CATCH-up time, trying to reduce the pile of recent reads that have provided a mixed bag of distraction, intrigue, twisting plot-lines and unreliable narrators. Two old favourites and one comparative newbie among a clutch of authors with an unfailing ability to grip and taunt with narratives that leave you guessing to the very end. The…
TIME for reflection on this running life. For “reviewing the situation“, as the fiendish Fagin sang in the wonderful film version of Oliver, way back in the 1960s. A need to stop awhile and consider what lies ahead. Like a rambler who has tramped their way steadily to the top of a Dartmoor tor, resting…
STARTING a previously unread book is a journey into the unknown, but one full of hope and expectation. Perhaps it’s sparked by an intriguing review, or an enthusiastic word of mouth recommendation. Maybe fellow book bloggers – at least those with no axe to grind or promoters to please – have heaped praise on the…
FOR those of a certain age (i.e. anyone born in the last century) one word will be sufficient to evoke fond memories of unmissable criminal court dramas. A reminder of tantalisingly clever tales rich in humour, wry comment and a panoply of credible and almost loveable rogues. And that word is Rumpole. Horace Rumpole, barrister….
AS we hurtle towards F-Day it might pay to heed the news from Australia. If you can find it. So little is ever classed by UK editors as sufficiently noteworthy to be included in their pages. Unless, of course, it is of a bushfires, mouse plagues or shark attacks. Although the latter have now been…
BOOKING a holiday in Cornwall? Better make sure your agent puts it in writing. Think of the poor souls desperate for a summer break who decided on a couple of weeks along the sunny (?) Cornish Riviera. Suddenly they find part of their time in a holiday park perched on the North Coast cliffs could…
SURELY mine is not the only brain that has gradually turned to mush thanks to this endless lock-down. I sense previously lively little grey cells have coagulated into something resembling sago pudding. Thus my head is host to an amorphous splodge of lifeless nothingness. A once active organ languishes listless and lifeless. Bogged and befuddled,…
BOOK lovers are a stubborn and peculiar breed. They will determinedly push on to the very last word despite all the negative vibes they are receiving from their current choice of reading matter. They plough relentlessly forward, deaf to a background noise about plot, characters, writing style, inconsistencies, typos (polite word for spelling errors), plodding…
NEARLY choked on my afternoon cuppa. Spluttered and dribbled before disaster was eventually averted. Yorkshire’s finest it was, too. You know, the brew that guy with the accent as broad as the Dales is forever chuntering on about. Seems that the much adored novelist and regular tea drinker Jane Austen (pictured) has fallen foul of…
Aah . . . the sheer joy, relief, escape, freedom and get-away-from-it-all happiness of a holiday trip. These hordes are lockdown escapees from the Australian state of Victoria queuing to “enjoy” the snowfields, as pictured by the Herald Sun. Yet again I am prompted to wonder what is the sense and point of holidays. Why…