…whether or not I need somebody with the human touch is none of your business.
Spice Girls and my eternal loneliness aside, hello. Three packets of crisps and one diet coke later and that fifth gin last night is feeling more memory than physical, I’m finally feeling a desire to write.
After a long period of, “GOD, WHY DON’T I WANT TO READ!?!” I’ve binged some crime fiction and am very excited to read The Lessons by Naomi Alderman. I didn’t like The Power (I know, I’m sorry – great concept, boring book) but The Lessons seems as though it could hook me.
Here are some mini-reviews of stuff what I have read recently. Please bear in mind that Gin has ruined my sleep, so these opinions are combined with a deep-seated despair.
The Owl Always Hunts At Night by Samuel Bjørk
Second in the crime series by Bjørk, set six months after I’m Travelling Alone. It was enthralling, very easy to read, though at times frustrating in that it followed similar patterns to the first novel. Surely only so much can happen to one family.
How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are: Love, Style, and Bad Habits by Anne Berest
Witty, beautiful and generally a wonderful coffee table book.
The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F**k by Sarah Knight
100 pages too long, amusing, not as helpful as I had hoped. It felt like something anyone vaguely amusing could write, so it has inspired me to see if I can do something similar. After all, I am vaguely amusing (well, I make myself laugh, but that’s probably not the same).
Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson
Not at all what I was expecting, I spent reading the novel interrupting my flatmate with theories. I don’t usually cope well with memory loss stories, but this was very clever.
Now I need to go catch up on other blogs. Fair thee well, reader.