A thieving seagull and the life of Brian
Long overnight snooze at Lorraine's house. Woke up feeling a little more refreshed than I have done. Had breakfast downstairs in her kitchen. The back door opened and continually menaced by Eric the seagull, who managed to stab his thieving yellow beak a few times into Basil and Brian's catfood.
Been reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, as it is required reading for my Guernsey project. This is a book which has topped the New York Times chart. It is an epistolary novel, i.e. in letters, which makes it easy to read in short chunks. It's easy to read and pleasant enough, although the plot unfolds in a very predictable way. The smart London voices are handled well, and sound authentic for the time.
It features a book group (a masterstroke, in terms of selling it) supposedly on Guernsey during the occupation, and I found it unconvincing. From a Guernsey perspective the island is not described with any reality, none of the Guernsey characters writes or talks with a shred of local authenticity. It weaves in some of the nasties happening on the continent in a similarly unconvincing way. For example there is much made of the girls in the prison camp being maltreated when they had their period... And there was I thinking that starved women, literally being worked to death don't generally find themselves able to menstruate.
Anyhow otherwise had a pleasant Sunday. Changed the water in my fish tank, made some time to work on the anthology of Guernsey project and continued to make a few tweaks to Skelton Yawngrave. Chapter 13 which was a bit long is now Chapter 13.a Unlucky for some, 13.b The ungrateful weasels, and 13c. The heartbreak of Spooney. Breaking the chapter was a great idea of Joan's, and Lorraine suggested it be broken into a, b and c, which is completely in keeping with the footnotes, and the tone of the book.
The Tobster called this afternoon sounding rather relaxed and happy.
In the evening went out for an Italian meal with Lorraine and Brian, who are getting along famously. Good fun. Brian called for us, and we walked to the long end of the Twitten, and there was a heartbreaking cry from Calliope who had followed us, making me feel guilty, despite the fact that weasel had been irritably gnawing my hand before we left.
We took Brian to the Brighton Tavern (after eating indifferent Italian food at Carluccio's), and discussed his possible move here. This everyone is very much for.
And so to bed.
Long overnight snooze at Lorraine's house. Woke up feeling a little more refreshed than I have done. Had breakfast downstairs in her kitchen. The back door opened and continually menaced by Eric the seagull, who managed to stab his thieving yellow beak a few times into Basil and Brian's catfood.
Been reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, as it is required reading for my Guernsey project. This is a book which has topped the New York Times chart. It is an epistolary novel, i.e. in letters, which makes it easy to read in short chunks. It's easy to read and pleasant enough, although the plot unfolds in a very predictable way. The smart London voices are handled well, and sound authentic for the time.
It features a book group (a masterstroke, in terms of selling it) supposedly on Guernsey during the occupation, and I found it unconvincing. From a Guernsey perspective the island is not described with any reality, none of the Guernsey characters writes or talks with a shred of local authenticity. It weaves in some of the nasties happening on the continent in a similarly unconvincing way. For example there is much made of the girls in the prison camp being maltreated when they had their period... And there was I thinking that starved women, literally being worked to death don't generally find themselves able to menstruate.
Anyhow otherwise had a pleasant Sunday. Changed the water in my fish tank, made some time to work on the anthology of Guernsey project and continued to make a few tweaks to Skelton Yawngrave. Chapter 13 which was a bit long is now Chapter 13.a Unlucky for some, 13.b The ungrateful weasels, and 13c. The heartbreak of Spooney. Breaking the chapter was a great idea of Joan's, and Lorraine suggested it be broken into a, b and c, which is completely in keeping with the footnotes, and the tone of the book.
The Tobster called this afternoon sounding rather relaxed and happy.
In the evening went out for an Italian meal with Lorraine and Brian, who are getting along famously. Good fun. Brian called for us, and we walked to the long end of the Twitten, and there was a heartbreaking cry from Calliope who had followed us, making me feel guilty, despite the fact that weasel had been irritably gnawing my hand before we left.
We took Brian to the Brighton Tavern (after eating indifferent Italian food at Carluccio's), and discussed his possible move here. This everyone is very much for.
And so to bed.
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