Holiday Reading Plans

Holy smokes it’s been quiet round these parts has it not?! What’s that about. I blame myself, because it’s my blog and who else is there to even blame? (I also blame The Boy a little bit because it’s hard to blog about books when you’re finding it rather hard to read them. I WANT MY READING MOJO BACK.)

I’m actually reading Kirsty Logan’s stunning novel The Gracekeepers at the moment, which, well. I love it. I love it in that kind of way where I’m trying to drag it out and not finish it because then it will be over and I will be sad. It’s so many different kinds of amazing, you don’t even know. Keep your eyes peeled actually for a proper review of that, which I shall endeavour to post next week from my lovely cottage by the sea, providing that the coastal WiFi isn’t too sketchy.

Yep, I’m going on holiday. Me, my bro and our parents are taking ourselves off to Anglesey (North Wales) for a week in what seems like it might be a recreation of all our childhood holidays. It was Dad’s 70^th in May, and Mum will be 60 in July and what better way for them to celebrate than with their offspring. I’m just, I’m so ready for a week away from work and away from my life and a week of wine and coastal footpaths and a cottage with an Aga. AN AGA. God, just take me there already. Drew (the brother) and I are travelling down together which will be awesome. I’ve put him in charge of the road trip playlist because left up to me we’d just listen to Taylor Swift the whole drive and I feel like perhaps he wouldn’t be cool with that. Or maybe he would. He surprises me quite often with his musical tastes my baby brother. I say ‘baby’, he’s actually 27 and 6ft a million and awesome. These are our faces.

So, a week away from work means ALL THE READING. I hope, I hope that’s what it means, and I already have my holiday reading list planned which I'ma totally tell you aaaalll about because I'm nice like that. 

First up, The Good Luck of Right Now which is by Matthew Quick of Silver Linings Playbook fame. S'about about a man trying to find his place after losing his Mum and it sounds beautiful. I loved Silver Linings and I’ve been really wanting to read more of Quick’s work so I’m looking forward to this

Uprooted is by Naomi Novik, it was released last week and it sounds wonderful; it’s all about a world where a village borders a wood full of evil powers, and as such the people rely on The Dragon to keep the wood under control. Every ten years a woman from the village is sent to serve The Dragon, as payment for his help. The next choosing is approaching and our heroine Agnieszka is terrified that The Dragon will take her bestest friend….its had awesome reviews and I am super super excited about it.

Seed is a YA book all about life within a cult and I read that it’s reminiscent of Handmaid’s which, well I’m trying not to think about that too much because otherwise my expectations will be unfairly high, but it’s about Pearl who has grown up within a nature-worshipping community, and how her life changes with the arrival of outsiders.

I Let You Go is on the list because every holiday needs a thriller, right? And this one has had folks saying all the good things

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North was released on May 19^th and it’s the story of an enigmatic film director as told by the people that loved her the most. I think it sounds super excellent

Prisoner of Night and Fog has been on my TBR for a while and I have a review copy if the sequel which I think gives me the perfect excuse to bump this one up to the top of the pile. It’s set in Nazi Germany, which yes, I know, call me predictable but it’s from a different side: Gretchen is swept up in the excitement of 1930’s Munich, she’s embraced the life that her father died to give her – he was a senior Nazi officer and he died to save the life of Hitler, which, awesome. Not. BUT THEN Gretchen gets an anonymous letter and it causes her to question everything and why has it taken me so long to read this book?? Yep, looking forward to that one.

The Book of Speculation is due for release towards the end of June if you want to pre-order. You probably do want to pre-order because it sounds so freaking good. It’s about carnivals and mysterious books and travelling circuses; about dead parents and doomed love stories and a family history that seems to follow a tragic pattern – death by drowning and always on 24^th July and it just sounds so good. So much better than I am making it sound here I know.

Quality of Silence is the new book from Rosamund Lupton and I am practically giddy with excitement about it. PRACTICALLY GIDDY. I loved Sister so damn hard (I liked Afterwards a little less) and this one sounds like it could be amazing. It’s about Yasmin and her deaf daughter and their travels across Alaska looking for Ruby’s father, driving deeper into a frozen silent world where as the blurb tells you, the night will last for another 54 days and someone is watching them in the dark. Yep. GIDDY WITH EXCITEMENT.

Fingers crossed I manage to read ALL OF THEM, because that’s what I want to do, I want to sit on the decking with a glass of wine and some crisps and look out to sea and read. Two more sleeps. 

The 2015 Book Challenge: January

Happy happy Friday! Friday’s always a good day, right? It is in my world anyway, where it marks the end of my working week and the start of 2 glorious days of weekend. Today I am extra giddy about it because at 4.30 tomorrow morning (Oh God, so early, so very early) I shall be heading off on my first ski holiday in 7 whole years and I am so excited I can barely contain myself. I’ll be taking my February Book Challenge envelope with me, which makes it all even more exciting.

Anyway, earlier this month I posted about the rather excellent Christmas present my pal Sarah got me – the book challenge – and how the first book was Bill Bryson’s One Summer: America 1927

Well, I’ve read it, and I am taking a quick ten minutes before I go on holiday (I'm going skiing. Did I say?) to jot down my thoughts about it because that is the point of the the whole thing, right?

I feel like I need to bake Sarah a cake or something oh my God, because I really liked this book. The following information came as a shock to her and so if it comes as a shock to you too then PLEASE DON’T JUDGE ME: I’ve never read any Bill Bryson before. I’ve picked up Notes from a Small Island about a gazillon times, and thought ‘yes, this is a thing I want to read….one day’ but one day never came because I am all about the novel and there are always so very many novels I want to read and I wasn’t really sure if travel writing was really my thing and so poor old Bill remained on my list of authors I might read, eventually.

Until Christmas Day. & you know what, I was delighted when I opened that book, because I probably never would have bought it for myself which is crazy, actually, because it’s a book all about 1920’s America, which, well it has my name all over it. ALL OVER IT.

So, I read it, and I loved it and well Bill Bryson, where have you been all my life?

So it is exactly what it says it is: a book about one summer in America. The summer of 1927, when Charles Lindbergh flew across the Atlantic and Babe Ruth broke his home run record; the Mississippi flooded and Sacco and Vanzetti were executed and Al Capone was at the height of his success; work started on Mt. Rushmore and the first talking film went into production and Prohibition was still in effect; production of the Ford Model T was stopped and a rather insignificant murder trial took a hold of the whole country and the Federal Reserve made the decision that precipitated the Wall Street Crash. SO MUCH HAPPENED.

So, what to tell you? Well for starters I had no clue that Henry Ford (and to a lesser extent Charles Lindbergh) was such an utter asshat. Seriously what an absolute cock.

‘He was definitely narrow-minded, barely educated and at least close to functionally illiterate. He did not like bankers, doctors, liquor, tobacco, idleness of any sort, pasteurised milk, Wall Street, overweight people, war, books or reading, J.P Morgan & Co, capital punishment, tall buildings, college graduates, Roman Catholics or Jews.’

It actually seems like the most adored public figures in 1927 were asshats in one way or another, which is unfortunate to say the least but I rather think Henry Ford was the worst of the bunch.

Bryson does an excellent job in this book of highlighting the extreme bigotry of the time, I mean, we all know how prevalant racism was, but it was interesting to see how it kept cropping up in the events of that summer – Lindbergh was racist; Ford a complete and utter hater of Jews,(and indeed EVERYONE. *insert swear word of choice here*); supposedly high brow publications published racist slurs without so much as a batted eyelid; the records for the Mississippi flood tell the exact number of cows that perished but there’s nothing about the number of humans because the majority of them were black; and the Ku Klux Klan was collecting members for fun ‘nothing better captured the expansive spirit of detestation of the period than the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan’ (and they hated everyone ever) It runs throughout the whole book and is (neatly?) tied up at the end with the terrifying statistic that batshit crazy eugenics theories led to 60,000 people being sterilised and sterilisation laws are still hanging around in 20 states TODAY. It’s messed up but still really interesting to read, you know?

 

Secondly how the fuck did Prohibition last for 13 years?! Seriously, what?

Thirdly Babe Ruth and all the baseball stuff, which there’s a lot of.  If you’d have asked me in December if I fancied reading all about the history of baseball I would have laaaaaaughed because erm , not so much and yet there I was reading this book and actually caring about the number of people going through the doors of Yankee Stadium and Babe Ruth’s stats. Also I now really want to watch a baseball game please. Can that happen?

ALSO the Sacco and Vanzetti trial. How could the whole entire US police and judicial system be so utterly incompetent, really. Talk about shocking. THERE WAS NO EVIDENCE. In fact, what evidence there was probably proved their innocence. And still they were executed. What?

I could go on forever, but this is a long book and I have a holiday to go on and you should read it for yourself anyway. (Sarah, if you're reading this then more of my thoughts will be coming in a letter to you just as soon as I can get them on paper. Keep your eyes peeled for your postie.)

It’s actually a really fascinating book – Bryson has this way of writing so that reading ‘One Summer’ was kind of like having a chat with someone that’s really really passionate about what it is they’re talking about – I couldn’t help but be swept along by his enthusiasm. I cared about what he cared about and I wanted every bit of information he had to share with me and then some because he made it all fascinating. He jumps from topic to topic and back again and he writes about the people as much as he writes about the events and it’s just really kind of fun. I’m so pleased I read it.

in which I have a wifi free weekend.

Hello folks!

I write today feeling much more relaxed than I may have been had I posted last week. Ian and I spent the bank holiday weekend in the Cotswolds with some friends and two of their three children. It was, as they say, just what the Doctor ordered. There’s just something about time spent with good friends. You know how there are some people who you just kind of click with, who it doesn't matter how long it is between visits, when you do get together it's like no time has passed? That's what it's like with these guys and the whole weekend was just full of laughter, so much that I gave myself a stitch, and finishing each others sentences and so much food.

The kids are the greatest too. Millie (she's 12) borrowed her Mum’s phone to text while we were stuck in traffic (hours and hours on theM6. Awful.)

'I'm at your service' she said 'if you want me then start your text pineapple; if you want mum then start it grapes.'  How utterly fabulous. She painted my nails, and Ian and Flynn played Top Trumps for hours and it was just, it was the best of times.

Mark is working in the Cotswolds at the moment filming the third series of Father Brown for the BBC (which you should totally watch, because it, and Mark, are excellent. The Radio Times described him as ‘a joy’ on a review of series two, which is always nice,) and we headed down for his birthday on Friday. We spent the weekend in a property owned by the Landmark Trust. The Castle, as we affectionately called it, was immense. It was actually the old banqueting suite of an old Jacobean house in Chipping Campden: the only part of the house left standing after a fire in 1645. Amazing.  When we arrived, Flynn (10) put a hand consolingly on my arm and sighed heavily. 'Theres no wifi. It's like the olden days.'

No wifi; little telephone signal; overstuffed armchairs that begged to be occupied by a girl (being me) and her book; a massive dining table fit for a King (or if not a King then more than fit for us); grounds big enough that when the boys took off to try out a new boomerang they became little more than specks in the distance; and a pub within walking distance. You see why we loved it?

Access could only be gained through a padlocked gate and a walk through the fields that had once been the grounds, and as you walked, the East Banqueting House –our weekend home – loomed, both imposing and inviting in the distance.

The house, built by Sir Baptist Hicks (financier in his day of the lavish court of James I) was one of the grandest houses of it’s era and today, despite being destroyed by fire so that the gateway and the two banqueting houses are all that remain, is classed as one of the most important Jacobean sites in the country. Fancy, huh? It felt a little bit like going back in time.

The banqueting houses would originally have been used as places of retreat after a main meal, used solely for drinking wine and eating cake. This, I thought, is the life. A whole wing of a house just for drinking wine and eating cake? Clearly I was born in the wrong era.

We all ooh-ed and ahh-ed as we climbed the spiral staircase from the small kitchen to the banqueting hall.  ‘This place’ Mark said, flinging open the huge wooden doors onto what would have been the terrace and taking a seat at the dining table, ‘is crying out for a Sunday roast.’

& so we silenced its cry. Granted, it wasn’t quite as it would have been, back in the day (although it definitely felt like we had retreated, from life if not from just another wing of our super fancy home, and there was wine. & cake,) and I wonder if that old table had ever seen so much food. We ate and ate and ate, all weekend: large breakfasts and plates piled high with pasta and then Sunday lunch and SO MUCH DESSERT.  Ian has a lifelong hatred of bananas. He had three helpings of banoffee pie. This was the banqueting house after all and blimey, Emma can cook.

As there was no TV Ian commandeered my book – I was re-reading Oryx and Crake – so I decided to acquaint myself with Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Blue Flower. I say ‘decided’ but what I actually mean is Mark said ‘have you read it yet’ and I said ‘no I’ll start it right away.’

Anyway, that’s what I read. 

I liked it.

Set in 18^th century Germany, it’s the true story of (slightly crackers) philosophy student Fritz (later to become the poet Novalis) as he meets and decides he must marry ‘his philosophy,’ 12 year old Sophie – plain, simple and not at all a match for his brilliance. It’s well written and subtle. There’s no…demand for enjoyment I guess? None of the characters are written especially favourably, and there’s very little in the way of sentimentality but still, you’re drawn to the people – the Von Hardenburgs and Karoline especially – and sucked into the story. Fitzgerald’s style of storytelling is rather different, here at least; the book is short at around 225 pages and you feel as though every word has been carefully considered and placed, so at times it feels sparse and a little lacking in atmosphere and yet, and yet, at the same time it has a certain quality to it that keeps you turning the pages, you have to sort of just sit back and read it - don’t try too hard or look too deeply.

It begins, rather excellently, with the Von Hardenburg biyearly wash-day and it continues with these little insights, descriptions, snippets of dialogue that make you see just why this book is so highly thought of (nominated more than any other as Book of the Year 1995 by all accounts)

Apparently, when asked how she might celebrate the novel winning the National Book Critics Circle award, Fitzgerald replied, ‘well I certainly shan’t do any ironing today.’ I think that’s rather excellent.

It’s not my book of the year, it won’t even make the top five, but it’s a good read, and an interesting one. I’m glad Mark pushed me to read it. Cheers, mate.

[Fitzgerald didn’t publish anything til she was 60 as a by the by – perhaps there’s hope for me yet!]

In other news, before I go, I hope you’re all getting excited for The Bookshop Book! Just over a month til publication day! *happy dance*  I am very excited about this book, if you weren’t aware!

There’s all sorts of fun stuff going on over at Jen’s Facebook page of late actually, including a rather fabulous book club. You ought to check it out: www.facebook.com/weirdthingscustomerssayinbookshops 

Things denied, things untold, things hidden and disguised.

Friday, Friday, Friday. Hurray and also hurrah. Tomorrow is the the start of another long weekend; the boy and I are off down to Brighton for four days to stop with Mark and Emma. It will be a lovely [cheap] weekend of reading on the sofa and walking on the seafront and eating lots of home-cooked food and watching fireworks and also some horse-racing, so I'm told.=. We've not seen Mark and Em since June and I'm really looking forward to it. Stopping with them is a little like a home from home in a way, which is always nice. There's no expectations and I'm pretty sure I'll spend Sunday mooching around in my PJ's eating Sugar Puffs like I did last time I was there. It's just like being at home except there's two cats instead of one and the house is nicer and the garden bigger and of course Mark and Emma are there being all delightful. I can't wait.

Before then though is the rest of today! I'm off to see my Granny in a little while which will be nice as her holiday and my holiday means I've not seen her for 3 weeks so I'm looking forward to a cup of tea and a chat and then tonight I plan to be indoors. We have some TV to watch, I don't know quite what, but something and I'll watch whilst making Christmas presents - this weeks homemade gifts involve buttons!  Exciting.

AND!!! Starbucks Red Cups are back. Dance with me?

In bookish news, this week I read The Casual Vacancy. Would I be lying if I said it was one of the most anticipated titles of the year? Maybe. There was a massive stand full of books in Sainsbury's though and Amazon sent me about 72 million emails so I'm going to say people somewhere were expecting other people to anticipate it.

I wasn't sure how I felt when I first heard that J.K. Rowling was writing another book and not only was it not the history of the Marauders but it wasn'y even remotely connected to Harry Potter. I'm not going to lie - I do not think J.K Rowling is the greatest writer that ever lived. I love Harry Potter, everybody who knows me loves that. I love the books, I know them inside out, I am grateful to Jo for writing them, I think they should be required reading for every child in the world but I don't think Jo Rowling is the greatest writer in the world [hush, don't hate me. I still love her]; she could write in Harry's world forever and I would read it forever, but something else, something totally and utterly different? I wondered how that would work out and actually, I was nervous for her because God, can you even imagine the weight of the pressure that comes of releasing anything following the success of Harry Potter - so much pressure to succeed because everything else she's done is just adored and at the same time so many people, watching, rubbing their hands together and waiting to see her fail. *gulp*  rather her than me.
I think she made the right desecion taking the step away from children's literature for that very reason; anything she wrote in that genre would be judged - harshly - against Harry Potter, she'd have to produce something incredible to stand half a chance of measuring up. At least with The Casual Vacancy whilst people will always compare it to Harry Potter, the comparisons are harder to make.

First impressions? In fact, earlier than first impressions, so impressions based on the information I had before I even had a copy of the book? I wasn't sure I was going to like it. If Jo's name wasn't on the cover then I wouldn't have picked it up and that's a fact; the blurb would not have drawn me in - a book about small town politics doesn't sound like the most exciting read. I read this book purely because it said J.K. Rowling on the cover; Jo drew me in, the fact that I had to see what she could do and I kind of liked that because I had no idea what to expect, no clue. I was pleasantly surprised, actually, because I actually really liked it.

It's a funny thing to say, I suppose, but it felt familiar reading this book. I mean, the characters, the setting, the story, all of it was brand new and yet somehow it felt a little like settling down with an old friend; whilst there are no wizards and no magic and no Hogwarts in the world of The Casual Vacancy but instead council estates and drug addicts and pompous middle aged men and small town politics there's something about it, which I guess can only be Jo that comes through and it made it easy and comfortable to read, perhaps because like Harry Potter, in The Casual Vacancy's characters are at the heart of the story and Rowling does well with characters. It's a book about class and about society and what at first seems like just a simple story about the complexeties of a relatively small group of people - all of whom had their own distinct voice, well done Jo - soon grips you with unexpected melodrama, and twists that leave you gasping and an ending that is shocking but very well executed. Once it got it's claws in, this book wouldn't let me go, I had to keep reading - meaning I am stupid tired this morning - and I'm really very glad I did.

J.K. Rowling has proven here that she isn't just a one trick pony, that she can do more than just Harry Potter and I certainly won't be as nervous about picking up her next offering.

Better off in Abersoch

I actually believe I could deal quite easily with retirement. A cottage by the sea; a cute little puppydog to walk on the beach; all the books I could read and then some. Yes, I think that would suit me just fine, or at least that's the conclusion I've come to after my weekend away.

Talk about a lovely time. It's funny, some people might think we're excruciatingly boring, after all we were tucked up in bed for midnight, but I don't care. I've had a lovely relaxing time and feel totally recharged (and a lot less healthier than I did before I left. We've eaten a lot of junk.)

It's been superbly low key. Village pubs and bottles of wine; hot chocolate on the beach; lazy mornings and early nights; sofa picnics; snuggling under blankets whilst storms rage outside; Ugly Betty; single track country roads; lots of reading and even more laughter. I'm so glad I went.
It makes me realise, times like this weekend, just how lucky I am to have the people that I do in my life. People that just get me. People I can laugh with and drink with and sit in silence and read with and visit places just because we like the sound of the name with. Friendship is valuable and once you find those people who you can relax and be your own quirky self with, well you should hold them tight and never let go. I'm lucky enough to have a handful of those people and I love them all, very much.

That is all.

It's Friday and it's not unusual.

It's Friday and I am going on holiday. A mini-break. A girly mini-break with my BFF Helen and ourfriend Clare (although Clare is a teacher and so can only come for one night.) We're setting off on Saturday morning and coming back on Tuesday and I cannot wait. Helen's brother has a caravan in Abersoch. There will be walks on the beach and cider and lots of reading and giggles and gossip and yummy pub food and I think it will be just lovely. As long as the sun shines. In fact, you know what, even if there's some kind of monsoon it will be fabulous. It will be so so nice to spend some time, with Helen especially. Even though we're in touch most days I feel like I haven't seen her in ages.
We'll be taking our Kindles so it will be a paper free weekend I think, unless you count postcards. Some people might get postcards. & even though I love my Kindle bucket loads, I haven't gone that far over to the darkside; I promise you those postcards will be real, not some fake old e-cards!

I’m still reading the Woolf. This week has been all kinds of insane so I haven’t read more than 2% (I still get a kick out of the whole percentage thing. Hurrah for Kindle love) but that will be rectified this weekend and then next week when I get back I shall read Prisoner of Azkaban. I am excited about that.

Soon I shall finish work then I am off to visit my Grandparents and visit Kez and then take my beautiful God Daughter out for her birthday surprise – if somebody had taken me to see Avril Lavigne for my 13^th birthday I’d have been bowled over. Let us hope Beth is too – and then I am ON HOLIDAY.

Oh, I nearly forgot. Have a Friday photo.

I think I love Darren Criss. Like, actually. I can’t help myself. He’s so beautiful, and when he sings I come over all peculiar and then when he dances (which he does, a lot) my tummy does funny things and it’s a bit ridiculous. I have such a crush. Ha. I was a little crazy about him in the last season of Glee; the Warblers album is the most played on my iPad (This is not cool. I know. I don’t care.) & then he danced past me at the Potter party and then he told me I was tiny and I realised our outfits were co-ordinated and then he danced down the stairs and Ian just laughed at me because I was in an actual daze and then last night I watched the first episode of the new Glee and oh my days Jesus Christ on a bike. Gjgfhklgfjhklfngfxlg. Yum. Yum yum yum. So here. Happy Friday.

(Also how cute are Blaine and Kurt please. Helen, if you’re reading this, shush.)

meanwhile, back in the real world...

Lifewise, not a lot has been happening. Aside from y'know, the premiere. Ha. I still can't get over that.

Ian and I disappeared to Cornwall for a week in the middle of last month. That was nice. We stopped in a gorgeous little beach hut just outside of St Ives and spent our days mooching around little fishing villages and eating seafood and cuddling up in bed reading (me) and playing on the iPad (Ian), it was very nice. We also took in a production of Madam Butterfly at the Minack Theatre.
Seriously, if you're ever in Cornwall, you have to do this. It's amazing. The Minack, if you don't know, is an open air theatre carved out of a cliff and it has the most spectacular views. The seats are basically just stone, some have a bit of grass growing out of them (if you're lucky) and you sit, or perch, on your little bit of stone with legs behind you and legs in front of you and if you're short like me then your legs don't quite touch the ground so by the interval you're aching and the play/musical/opera is performed against a backdrop of the ocean and crashing waves. It's breathtaking. You can hire little foldway seats for £1 to give you a bit of back support; I am so glad we did that, and we bought ponchos for £1.99 to protect against the weather which wasn't great. All of that, plus the ticket came to £11. Not bad for a night of culture. It was pretty good too, although it had been translated to English, which was random and quite possibly took away from the drama and passion of the piece. Things don't sound quite as dramatic in English and there's something quite amusing about hearing people sing about having a catch up tomorrow. We may or may not have gotten the giggles. Whoops.

It was a lovely break, even the less than fabulous weather for 60% of the time didn't spoil it.

Since we've come back we're focussing on sorting out our house. We are so rock and roll. We've also been spending lots of time with our lovely friends and took our gorgeous God-Daugher (or rather, one of our gorgeous God-Daughters) to Chester Zoo for her birthday on Saturday which was fun. Emily will be 7 at weekend and is a little ray of sunshine, we had a lovely time.
The rest of the month looks like being just as busy. We're supposed to be taking our Camper up to the Lakes this weekend for a weekend of camping with friends; we have plans for dinner with an old friend of Ian; a day of fun with Helen and my brother and other such fun stuff.

I had also hoped to meet up with Jen in Oxford, for a good old catch up and a cocktail to celebrate her book deal but I don't think I can afford that at the moment, not until I have gotten the month of birthdays and MOTs out of the way anyway. This makes me sad. However. I will see her this year come hell or high water or bankruptcy - that Jen, if you're reading this is a promise, a published on the t'interweb, actual promise.

Anyway, yup, you read that right: my pal Jen has a book deal and I am so proud because she is so good and works so hard and she deserves this more than anybody. Jen works in an (amazing) bookshop in Highgate and to say she gets some slightly eccentric customers would be an understatement. A while ago she started noting these little anecdotes on her blog, here: Jen's lovely blog
Due to Jen's wonderful style and her way with words (check out her other work via the links on her blog; she's an amazingly good writer) it wasn't long before things took off and soon she was featured in the Huffington Post and being tweeted and blogged about by Neil Gaiman(!!!) One thing led to another et voila: book deal. It's all very exciting and I am counting down the days til I can go into a book shop and see her book on the shelves (and buy ten copies and casually say to the cashier "she's a very good friend of mine you know...")
Those of you who know me personally can expect a copy of this for your next birthday!!

So yes, that's life in my world at the moment. Things are pretty good.