So, tell me your top five classic fantasy/SF authors, and your top five new and shiny fantasy/SF authors. I'll pass the list on, and maybe you'll be able to buy some of your choices in Asda in the future!
1A British supermarket
2My estimation of her needs, not hers ;-)
( Lyrics behind the cut )
*No, the fit's not good enough to count as spoilers for the book ;-)
- Rain is supposed to take the pollen out of the air and reduce hayfever symptoms. So how come I'm still sniffling and suffering itchy eyes?
- The bit of TV I saw this morning featured Elaine Paige singing a bit of "I know you so well". Unfortunately, I know this song quite well (my mum likes it), and have only just chased the damn' thing out of my head with judicious application of ipod.
- Admiring the contents of my package of new books apparently counts as "reading" for car-sickness-causing purposes. I should know better.
- The rain will continue the work smiorgan's been doing to turn the big space behind our house into a garden.
- iPod with the wedding playlist :-)
- New books! (The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Umberto Eco, Long Way Down by Nick Hornby, Saturday by Ian McEwan, The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger and Drowned Wednesday by Garth Nix. Although I'm not happy about TTTW's embossed "Richard and Judy's book club" sign on the front. Why can't they use a removable sticker like normal people?)
But you know what? Two of the reasons to be miserable have vanished while I've been writing, and the other is diminishing, but the reasons to be cheerful are ongoing. Aren't I a little ray of sunshine?
Once more he stept into the street,
And to his lips again
Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;
And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
Soft notes as yet musician's cunning
Never gave the enraptured air)
There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,
And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,
Out came the children running.
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.
(Full text available here: http://www.indiana.edu/~librcsd/etext/
Incidentally, whilst in Venice, smiorgan and I visited Ca'Rezzonico, where Browning died.
I thought of ( Wendy Cope's The Uncertainty of the Poet )
And she thought of ( This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams )
Can you guys with your collective wisdom tell me some more poems about food? Or if you're feeling creative, write one ;-)
A while ago, I was asking for book recommendations (the list of recs received is here). I forgot to say anything about it at the time, but I started reading The World According to Garp pretty soon afterwards, since it was one I already owned, and - sorry mr_snips - I got bored and gave up on it. I just couldn't summon up any interest in the characters.
Last night I bought book number 2 from the recs list: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, as recommended by verlaine. I'll start reading it on the bus home tonight.