As the weather turned nice, we reorganised part of the garden. We now have three seating areas, one on the terrace, one under the pergola. We also moved the roses (in pots) to a more secluded area where they seem to do better, and put a bench on the outside of the pergola (where the roses were) in case we want to sit in some late afternoon sun, by which time most of the sunshine has gone to the front. Not terribly exciting, but then life isn’t at the moment for those of us keeping safe and waiting out the second wave of this pandemic.
Finished watching everything we started last month and delved into the last season of Peaky Blinders, and the second season of Sex Education, which is worth watching for the views of the Welsh countryside alone. Watched the last season of Ash Vs The Evil Dead on DVD. None of my friends would understand my love of this B-movie style horror comedy films or series, but my love of Bruce Campbell and Sam Raimi’s work is enduring for which I make no apologies.
It’s been a good month reading wise.
The Tent, The Bucket and Me, Emma Kennedy
A sometimes funny, a sometimes cover your eyes and peep through your fingers cascade of family holiday disasters, this book is also a nostalgic ride for those who lived through the 70s especially if your parents ever dragged you camping. Fortunately, my memories aren’t as horrendous as Emma’s but none have ever made me wish to go sit in a field in a tent again. At times, I really felt for her and recollected that moment when parents become embarrassing.
The English Monster, Lloyd Shepherd
Written with more tell than show, and the omnipresent head-hopping and change of point of view meant the style didn’t quite work for me but this is the only negative. A shadowy murder thriller in dark shady alleyways of old London, at others a swashbuckling adventure on the high seas. Best described as a historical thriller, this is a detective story told over more than one century following two separate paths that join strangely, but I love a different way of storytelling and in this the author has excelled.
The House of Thunder, Dean Koontz
A strange story of a woman caught in the possible grip of madness, trapped in a real or personal Hell. A reread for me and I’d completely forgotten this story so didn’t know the outcome, although I partially guessed the direction in which it was heading. This is one to read for the buildup, especially if you love creepy tales, which, in this instance, Koontz weaves well. Though I found the horror a little cheesy in one spot, I sped through this book in two days. An easy, absorbing ‘fun’ read.
After You With the Pistol, Kyril Bonfiglioli
The second Mordecai novel is easier to read and funnier than the first, though I struggled to overlook a distasteful account of what should be a woman’s response to rape. I can attribute this to other times as I’m not one to judge people from the past by today’s standards, but it spoilt an otherwise entertaining read.
Tainaron, Leena Krohn
First, the copy I have is of a small hardback book that’s a delight to hold with an eye-catching slip cover, and drawings dotted throughout; a fast read at only 124 pages. The story from this Finnish prize-winning author is a fantasy told in a series of letters written by a foreign visitor and sent from an insect city. There’s no plot. We never know the recipient of these letters and only get to know the writer obliquely. I’ve heard the character writing the letters is female, but I never picked up on that and saw the letter writer as male, lost and adrift, having travelled to Tainaron seeking a promise that may never be fulfilled unless it’s found within. The most obvious nuance is one of change. There’s something visceral in the narrative, making this a book with an amorphous emotional impact. I’m sure many will find this nonsensical, bizarre, maybe pointless, yet there’s something memorable and almost poetic about the book. And, like a poem, will have significance for some, be meaningless to others.
The Shepherd’s Crown, Terry Pratchett
A strange experience reading the last Discworld novel, though it’s not the last Discworld novel I have to read. I’m in the dubious position of knowing there are no more books than those I have on my shelves and I should finish them. But once I do, there are no more. While I will spend time before getting around to the last few, there are still Discworld books for me to look forward to. Terry Pratchett was without doubt my most beloved author and reading his last work would always be difficult, which is part of the reason I procrastinated. The four Tiffany Aching books aren’t my favourite, though I love the Feegles and own a Rob Anybody. This is a poignant end to the Discworld series and as a farewell from Terry.
Big Damn Hero (Firefly), James Lovegrove
I want to start by saying I found this a lovely paperback. The cover has an excellent design and texture with flaps like a dust jacket. There are even small touches such as an image of Serenity similar to a watermark on the pages at each chapter. Alas, there were half a dozen typos within which pull me out of the story somewhat, but it’s worth overlooking those slight errors to enjoy another episode of Firefly. And that’s how this book reads — like a missing episode, particularly as we get to know more about the characters, especially Shepherd Book. Maybe a hard one to recommend, and no, it will never be like watching the series, but as a die hard Firefly fan I’ll take the novel over nothing and will pick up more as they’re released.
I received edits and the cover for An Act of Generosity, which re-releases in June with JMS books. I’ve also been writing and plotting for another book in a series (not romance) that I’m unable to talk about yet. I’ve yet to run the idea by the publisher to see whether they’ll be interested.
Stay Well and Happy Reading!