THE BOOKWORMERY
Christie, clusterf*ckery, creativity
First of all, my apologies for this arriving on Sunday rather than Saturday. This week has been whatever the polite word for “a clusterf*ck” is. But now I am back home, headache tablets downed, a bit of sun outside, the child wreathed in post-exam contentment, ready meals for all for dinner even though it’s Sunday and I can honestly feel my late grandma’s disapproving stare wherever I go, and it is at last time to commune with my lovely books and my lovely readers once again – hello, and thank you for waiting.
The bright spots of the week have included:
The news that a dedicated romantasy bookshop is opening in Oxford very soon – more thoughts on romantasy in general beyond the paywall – and I am always here for a new bookshop opening, especially for a specific fandom, even if I am not necessarily part of it.
The news that a new stationery shop is opening soon in Forest Hill, SE23 which is near enough my old manor (Catford, SE6) for me to feel proprietorial as well as excited about it. Notebooks are second only to book-books as my greatest financial outlay and weakness) and I can’t wait to visit.
And once I’ve done that, I’m going to try and get to the House of Stories exhibition at Chatsworth House because amongst the many, many other things on offer, I really want to hear the reading of The Canterbury Tales as it was spoke. It’s on til October, which is good as the idea of me getting anywhere beyond my own back garden within three months has not been a realistic prospect since, I would say, I turned 45 or so. I don’t even lead a busy life. I only have one child, and I’m a terrible mother. How do other people manage to do so many things, let alone so well?
Finding my copy of Eleanor Parker’s Winters in the World: A Journey Through the Anglo-Saxon Year which I have been looking for ever since the heatwave (though it now seems to belong to the distant past) began. Partly because I began it last year and then lost momentum with it somehow (this is almost always due to stupid Life and almost never to The Book and certainly was not The Book in this case) and have been wanting to get back to it ever since. And partly because it is the perfect armour against summer, for those of us who are at war with temperatures over 25 degrees. It delights in all the seasons, but the cooler ones especially, and conjures up the past so beautifully throughout that it makes summer sound bearable too.
I now have 25 apple-of-Peru seedlings, have potted up my first one and it seems to have survived. I think I shall reward myself by re-reading these Beverley Nichols
Ignore the war books behind. They’re my husband’s. I sent out the latest batch of book bundles to founder members of The Bookwormery. I got a bit carried away so the postage costs mean this endeavour is now running at a loss but I hope you each find something in yours that hits the spot. They are a joy to do, but I just have to hope that they land – literally and metaphorically – all right.
Ditto
Beneath the paywall, in addition to my romantasy ruminations, are thoughts on reading my first Agatha Christie, my report on the week’s book acquisitions and consumption, and a chunk about book writing too. I was also planning to include an attempt to get my feelings about AI in order, but my mental and emotional resources proved too depleted. I kept putting my head down on the keyboard and then finding I didn’t even have it in me to cry. I’ll give it another go next week - the writing about AI, not the crying. Hopefully.
Happy reading, everyone!
Love,
Lucy
