Yep. Doing some of that, I am.
So far this year, I have finished two books and am half way through #4 and a third of the way through #3. I am enjoying reading a bit more so far this year for some reason – whether it’s because I’ve just picked the right book to read and not picked anything I hate, or whether I’m just in the Mood for Reading. Whatever it is, it would be nice if it keeps going. I’m not going to set any goals for reading this year – just that I should. I’m also taking the Offspring to explore our new library during the week, and I might end up re-visiting borrowing books again. (Although, my spooky cousin who has purple hair works there. We haven’t spoken for nearly 20 years aside from the odd mumbled ‘hello’ when we cross paths – she was working in the building next door for a while. Embarrassing. Families. Ahem.)
Plus, I can’t read while I crochet, and as my crochet buddy is at the joining the squares phase of our project, and I am still about to finish Square #10 (out of 14) and all the ends (may have mentioned ends before – 14 sets of nine squares, each with five colours, and each colour has two ends. Crikey. That’s a lot of ends), I sort of want to keep up with that as well. But I like reading, so here I am.
Book #1: Career of Evil – Robert Galbraith Now, I started reading this series before I found out who actually wrote it, and thought the first one was a decent first novel. Then, by the time the second one came out, the cat was out of the bag and everyone knew it was JK Rowling. This was sort of unfortunate, although I think people had got used to the idea she can write about things that aren’t child wizards. BUT the other unfortunate bit was that the editing got a bit looser – like, OMG JK ROWLING CAN’T TELL HER TO CHOP BITS. So, number 2 wasn’t as good as #1. It was still readable, and still a decent holiday read. Career of Evil is #3. It starts off well, although I found myself mildly irritated with the story (and for fuck’s sake, we know Coromoran is hairy, you don’t need to describe how goddamn hairy he is every five pages. He’s a one legged hairy gorilla. Ok. Got it.) for almost the first third. There was also a bit of ‘need to suspend disbelief’ here and there as well – Robin was being a bit pathetic – ok she did get delivered a leg in a box, but seriously. However, we did find out a bit more of Robin’s back story, which was useful. Somewhere a bit before half way through, it started to get REALLY good, like I’m not crocheting because I am reading. Ahem. The viewpoint switched between the killer and the story – not sure that was great as the writing in those parts seemed really stilted and clunky. But it certainly got going after the 40% mark. The end was a bit race to the finish, then a bit WTF. Like really WTF. But I’m looking forward to #4, and I’d really like it if the hairy was mentioned less than once.
Book #2: Hester and Harriet – Hilary Spiers. This was one of those random pick ups from Target while I was waiting for Chaos to get his act together. So, an actual book made of paper. Weird. Anyway, this book is everything I hate – it’s a cosy, and it’s written in an odd perspective. It’s not second person, but sort of. Like reading a play (the author is a playwright, that splains that). Anyway, despite my predilection for hard core crime and death/serial killer-y type books, this was pretty cool (although, many suspensions of disbelief required about some bits. They’re in the middle and toward the end of the book, you’ll know which bits I mean when you read it.) I liked the characters – one of them I imagined as looking and sounding like Vera from the telly show of the same name. I’m not sure that she really did, but there was something about her… Anyway, it was a nice read. I enjoyed it a lot and handed it over to my mum to read.
Book #3: The Road to Little Dribbling – Bill Bryson I’m a bit over a third of the way through this one. I’ve loved Bill Bryson for ages. Even if I did try to kill him once. Long story. I picked this up when on holidays a couple of weeks ago after sniggering like a loon reading the first couple of pages. He got hit on the head by a boom gate in a car park, and it’s hysterical. Also, something that could happen to
me anyone. Reading Mr Bryson is like listening you your favourite old uncle tell stories in front of the fire. Funny and affectionate and a little close to the wind sometimes. He likes to take the piss, but he’s very gentle about it.
Book #4: The Magician King – Lev Grossman I had an epic trip to the Big Smoke last week, and because I had to lug a fuck-tonne of crap with me, I didn’t want to drag Uncle Bill up the highway because hardback books are heavy as fuck. So, I popped this one on the Kobo and got stuck in. I’m a bit over half way, and I suspect I’ll finish it before I go back to Uncle Bill. It’s the second book in a series (I read the first one last year – Harry Potter goes to Uni with alcohol and sexy times). This one is more or less what happens next. There’s a feeling that getting what you always wanted is a bit disappointing, although Quentin Coldwater is a whinger. He is probably the kind of person who can never be content. The book is enjoyable (even with the moaning) and the characters are interesting, and I whizzed through almost half of it on the train. So yeah. Looking forward to what happens next.