In which I have nothing much of import to say about anything.

What have I done since my last blog update?

I've eaten too many Malteser MaltEaster Bunnies, which have replaced Creme Eggs as my seasonal treat of choice and who thought that would ever happen?

I've hung out a little with these cuties:

The baby is my niece Daisy. She's the best. The puppy is the new addition, Charlie. He's a 13 week old retriever and is made of love and fluff and happiness.

I've read Will Grayson, Will Grayson and had a lot of happy feelings about it. You should probably go read it, because a: John Green and b: it's really good.

I've watched Magic Mike and had a lot of unhappy feelings about it. Seriously though, oh very deary me. It's terrible.

I've been to an 'introduction to patchwork' class as 2013 is going to be the year of craft. That was fun, actually.I felt rather accomplished by the end of it! I shall never be a huge quilter like my Mum or my Granny, but it was a fun way to spend a Saturday and I can see myself making the odd bit of something as time goes on. It's good to know I can if I wish.

I've taught myself to crochet. That was last night, in bed. Wow. I am so rock and roll. Again though, year of craft. I wish to crochet myself a massive blanket like the one my Mum made last year that I have been trying (and indeed failing) to steal! So far I am part way through a scarf for a borrower so it might take me a while but still, watch this space! Maybe by next winter I will be snuggled under my own crocheted blanket and everyone will be jealous.

I’ve fangirled over John Green. I love him. [here he is making dinnerwith his son Henry, tell me it’s not adorable.]

I’ve cried at Les Mis. More than I did at the stage show, actually, which surprised me. The film gave me actual tears from Fantine dying onwards where as on stage I just had a lump in my throat til Val Jean croaked it. Go figure. Also Jackman? Super hot.

I’ve almost finished reading Ian McEwan’s ‘Sweet Tooth.’

I’ve downloaded ‘The Silver Linings Playbook’ to my Kindle ready to read next week after the above book is finished. I have done this because Jen said so and if I have learnt anything it's that if Jen says I should read a book then probably I should read it. Also, I want to see the film and the law dictates I read the book first. Who would see the film adapatation without reading the book first? What kind of crazy is that? *cough*youknowwhoyouare*cough*

I’ve worked. A lot. But that’s not all bad because there’s a cute new coffee place opened in town and I went for coffee and cake last week under the guise of ‘business meeting.’ All important meetings need cake. This is a fact of life.

I’ve drunk too much coffee. This is not just recently, this is always all of the time.

I’ve facetimed Helen and gone for dessert with Jane and emailed with Jen and Sue and realised that actually, my friends are the best. I am beyond lucky and if you are in that little circle of people I hold most dear I hope you know I am grateful for you, each and every day.

I’ve also practised the art of procrastination, proven by the exsistence of this very blog post.

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.

In which I am a slacker

It's just been brought to my attention that I haven't blogged since August!

Whoops. 

I think perhaps this makes me the worst blogger in all the land. 

The reason is probably because I've not read as much this year as I usually do. I'm not sure why that is, exactly, when settling down with a book remains my favourite way to pass the time. I'm way behind on my Goodreads 2012 goal too, which is annoying the hell out of me so I really need to do something about that [and by something I mean read more, Josephine, read more not adjust said goal in order to achieve it you big ol' cheat]  I could easily blame work, and the fact that I haven't been sleeping well and am always tired and seem incapable of reading more than a couple of pages without falling asleep but God, what a pity party that would be so I shan't. Instead I shall just say 'whoops' and make a deal with myself to do better. 

Luckily, even though I haven't been reading as much, for the most part, what I have read has been enjoyable. I'm part way through Anna Karenina at the moment, although that's currently on hiatus because whilst I love it, it's also long and as Jen said: you probably shouldn't read Tolstoy when you're sick; you should probably re-read The Subtle Knife and so I am. I loves me some heartbreak. Ha. 

Most notably of late, I've read and enjoyed  Marina Lewycka's We Are All Made Of Glue which has been on my to-read shelf for forever and a day and which I really wish I'd read before now, because I loved it. It's one of those rare books that had me laughing out loud, and feeling a little sad and then laughing a little more and left me wanting to hunt out Lewycka's back catalogue because it was just that good and The Paris Wife by Paula McLain which is awesome and set it in Paris in the 20's and follows the story of Ernest Hemingway's first wife. I loved loved loved it and follwing on from that I downloaded about 11 Hemingway novels onto my Kindle and re-read The Great Gatsby because I think I'd have liked to have been alive in the 20's and The Paris Wife was so good that I didn't want to leave which says a lot I think, both about my book buying problem and also how much I enjoyed reading about 1920's Paris.
So yes, a couple of recommendations there for you, should you want them - along with I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith [she of 101 Dalmations fame] another book I've wanted to read for years and didn't. You should all read that too, if you haven't. You mostly have because most people aren't as lax as me but just in case, I'm throwing it out there...

In other news I saw Perks on Wednesday, which I shall come back and review next week, Starbucks have brought the Pumpkin Spice Latte to the UK and Strictly starts proper tonight, life, on the whole is good and because it's Friday and because I haven't for a while I'll leave you with a promise to do better and a Friday photo.

I saw the JCS arena tour last weekend, and it was fantabulous so here, have a picture of Jesus and Judas* because Ben Forster is pretty and Tim Minchin is awesome and everyone needs a bit of pretty and awesome on a Friday.

*the actors portraying and not actually Jesus or Judas because it's 2012AD and there is no way they'd still look this good.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

"Sometimes, I look outside, and I think that a lot of other people have seen this snow before. Just like I think that a lot of other people have read those books before. And listened to those songs.
I wonder how they feel tonight."

"The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" is one of those books that I've been meaning to read for ages. One of those books that I've heard about and that people have told me I should read but that I've just never gotten round to picking up because there's always something else that catches my eye and in all honesty I doubted it would live up to the hype.

"The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" is one of those books that I really really wish I'd read sooner. I loved it. I read it wanting to see what all the fuss was about. Now I know. & I want to read it again.

I've read a lot of good books this year, I think I've said that before. I've read a lot of books that have made me think and that have stayed with me but this one, it's different. It's a couple of weeks now since I finished it and I still can't get it out of my head, I can't stop thinking about it; there are quotes, lines and passages that keep coming back to me and making me feel like a heavy weight has settled somewhere in the middle of my chest. It's a beautiful beautiful book: the characters are beautiful, the language is beautiful, the message is beautiful and I just...loved it.

In a nutshell, it's the story of a fifteen year old boy, Charlie. It follows him through a year in his life, through a series of letters he writes to an somebdoy whose identity is never revealed.

Charlie is all kinds of wonderful. He doesn't want to let go of his childhood but at the same time he wants to grow up; he's caught in that no-mans land that we all go through at some point, balancing on the cusp of adulthood and knowing that when you finally jump nothing will ever be the same again.
He's clever and compassionate and senstive and massively messed up and he has this unique way of expressing himself that at times made me wonder, particularly at the start of the book, whether he was autistic; whether at the very least he was suffering from a high-functioning form of Asperger's because he seemed like a very young, very naive 15 year old. I never was and have never met a 15 year old like Charlie, he is absolutely not your average teenage boy yet (and this is part of the magic) at the same time he really is.
We follow him through a world of suicide and bullying and first love and lost love and friendship and a depression that breaks your heart and as I read I fell in love with this slightly damaged kid a little bit, a lot, because despite the fact that Chobsky's narrative style and the way Charlie's peers react to him make him seem more like a kid of 12 at times, he also has this maturity that makes him seem older than his years, this outlook on life that's like a smack in the face sometimes.

There's no convuluted vocab, no over-complicated plot, no complex descriptions, it's all so so simple and the way Charlie's thoughts are juxtaposed against his actions; his ability to look so much deeper than what he first sees or hears alongside his struggle to fit in with the people he wants to call his friends, shows who he is so effectively.

I'm really not making any sense am I? This is probably the crappest most garbled review I ever wrote. I blame the lack of coffee in my life today for my inability to be coherent.

I think my point is, when I was doing that OU course the other year ago my tutor was very big on 'show don't tell.' It was like her mantra or something and she was right because to as a writer, a good writer, you have no tool more powerful than the ability to show and not tell.
'The Perks Of Being A Wallflower' is one of the best examples of showing and not telling that I have ever come across.

You know what else I keep thinking? I really really wish I'd read this book when I was fifteen. Not because my high school experience was like Charlie's, much, but because, I don't know because it made me feel things differently and it would have been good I think, to have felt these things back then.

Again with the no sense.

It's like....it's like I'm 28 and I'm about to read this book about a 15 year old American school boy and I'm thinking there's no way I'm going to be able to relate to this story and then I actually read it and Charlie makes all these observations and I find myself just knowing somehow exactly where he's at. It's like sitting down and having a talk with a friend that you didn't know you needed until you realised things seemed better and I just think it's one of those books that I love now but that would have made a difference back then & whilst it's hardcore: drama after drama after drama, angst following angst following angst, the tone of this novel is absolutely spot on. It never felt deep and heavy and depressing. It's so frigging beautiful too. There were so many parts of it that I just wanted to quote, that I wanted to read aloud, that I wanted everybody in the world to share.

& I am so tempted to just delete this entire post and come back another time when I am caffeinated and able to do it justice but I've written it now. Besides, there's always the chance that this is garbled and nonsensical because I am garbled and nonsensical and if that's the case then this might be the best I can do *shrug*
If you haven't already then go read this book and then get a teensy bit excited about the film (starring Emma Watson) because that's just what I did.

I'm going to put the kettle on......