An updatey 2015 update
Posted on February 12, 2015
One can tell I was feeling uninspired over January, can’t one? But am inspired again halfway through February, with the second blog in two days. Yeeoooow etc. Keep ’er lit.
Also. It’s hardly a revelation for anyone who’s been following my blog here (hi Mum), but most of them have not so neatly fallen into talking about books/writing or telly, with occasional forays into travel and – more of which soon – being a small hairy biker zipping around castles and the like on my motorbike.
More of the same, actually, and even like, categorised, for 2015. With occasional politics. Oh joy.
How did Darth Vader know what Luke Skywalker got for his birthday?
He felt his presence.
Reading: An Unsuitable Job for a Woman by PD James. Lovely.
- Goodbye Malory Towers by Pamela Cox. Ooh, such a separate blog coming up. *simmers*
- Desperation by Stephen King. Mostly enjoyed even though it’s a Later King and set over one night and 700 or so pages, whereas plot-packed Salem’s Lot was only about 400. But dear lord, the God stuff. Not even in an agnostic way, just that King can be cringeworthy when he attemps sentimental.
‘Did God tell you that, David?’ earnestly asks the grizzled ex-alcoholic writer in motorcycle chaps. Gah. Many lines in this book made my teeth itch.
- Antonia Forest fan fiction, another take on ‘Ginty in Ireland’ by jackmerlin. (A guide to Antonia Forest fanfic is also coming up; some of it is so well done I’m going to call it astoundingly good without irony or blushes, even if I do sound like Bunty Penfold. One in book form, the 2011 Spring Term by Sally Hayward, from Girls Gone By Publishers is here in the meantime; from £13.)
Watching: It’s trendy to moan about the telly being as poor as an Albert Square resident who doesn’t know what a benefits office is, but really, telly has been piss-poor since Christmas.
The only decent glimmer has been Sharon Horgan’s and Rob Delaney’s Catastrophe (Channel 4, Mondays 10pm, 40D here), a sort of love story that’s all cynical and sweary then surprises by being a bit catch-in-throat luvverly. I’ve yet to see a ‘get engaged with a ring just picked up from a drunken stranger’s puddle of piss’ scene done so tenderly. And I doubt I ever will again.
And blimey, Eastenders is on. Blog on the interminable Who Killed Lucy? storyline coming next week. Oh joy.