Re-read. See the review I wrote EIGHT YEARS AGO! 😲
Apparently I am still the only person on here to have read and reviewed this rather marvellous poetry collection.

Happy Baba Yaga season, dear Littens!
I've baked rye bread, and there are gallons of tea: in other words, business as usual.

I've another short story for you.

https://katekeogan.substack.com/p/flayed

Thank goodness for Kindle, which obviated my having to bench-press this 1280 page tome.
Truly, I don't know what my excuse was for not picking it up before now.
The series (two trilogies?) is an easy yet intelligent, entertaining read without ever being lightweight. I got wholly engrossed in it, with my favourite volume being "Tehanu" (possibly because I'm a middle-aged woman).
Wonderful book: brilliant author.

A qualified pick.There's lots going on here: a move to Shetland; yet another woman failed by the healthcare system; the climate crisis; beaches full of plastic; all manner of seabirds; porpoises; seals; folklore; witch trials... I'm just not wholly convinced that beachcombing for a sea bean is a strong enough thread to stitch it all together.

Also, she's not a professional narrator: occasional oddities of stress and rhythm distracted me at times.

This was properly dark and there were some "Really?!" moments that stretched credulity but I liked it a lot.
Ugh, human violence, and our habit of projecting it onto the big bad wolf.
Sometimes I suspect that the human race actually hates-through-fear any and all other life forms that aren't immediately advantageous to itself. This book kind of met me where I am in this regard and yet, ultimately, it wasn't without hope.

It's getting dark again!
The link is as follows, for any who are curious:
https://katekeogan.substack.com/p/some-call-her-moora-others-elke-kerll

I hope you've all been having a happy and fruitful equinox, my dears!
I baked a pear & almond corn bread, and then we had an apple & plum crumble with custard for tea.
(Dessert for tea: the decadence of it all!) ☺️

I've listened to these Aaron Falk books all in the wrong order but I don't think it matters.
Steve Shanahan's narration is to Jane Harper as Kimberley Farr's is to Elizabeth Strout.
It's a dark enough tale from the get-go, but you knew that already. (I guessed the "who" but not the "why".)

Eh, it was OK.
Mostly positive mindset stuff, and none of it in any particular depth. It's like a big plate of aperitifs to pick and choose from, but with nothing substantial enough to really get your teeth into.
Also, I don't care what her woke credentials are, blithely asking (rhetorically, I presume) "Can you afford NOT to do therapy?" is financially obtuse at best and, arguably, ableist.
Two valuable things I took away from it ?

There's a new tiny story up on my blog. Here's the link, for the curious:
https://katekeogan.substack.com/p/our-lady-of-the-sparrows

This image is a painting I made (some time ago) of my daughter. She had her 28th birthday earlier this week.

This was my first book of hers that I'd read. I don't think it will be my last.
I loved Ifemelu and Obinze, and was wholly absorbed in their stories.
Not sure I was quite so enamoured of the ending, though I don't think anything else would have felt quite honest in terms of the narrative.

Thank you for putting this poetry collection into my hands @Cathythoughts . I loved it, and will love it again.
I'm struck by how she takes acutely felt "ordinary" experience and kind of turns it through 90 degrees till it becomes not *uncanny* , exactly, but something recognisably other.
On to the "to be re-read" list it goes!

I've posted another story to my Substack.
I think there was some confusion last time, caused by the fact I have TWO blogs there. To clarify, my creative writing is on The Teeming Sea of Solitude.
(The other, Under the Roses, is my print design stuff for work.)

Here's the link for this week's story, if you are interested:
https://katekeogan.substack.com/p/where-my-sunflower-wishes-to-go

Humankind's relationship with birds from prehistoric times to the present.
I much preferred the first half: once it reaches the Victorian era it becomes denser and drier. Also note it is heavily Euro- and, particularly, British Empire-centric.
I took away from it that the privileged reliably legislate to safeguard their interests. (Shall I try on "the Bolshevik Birder" for size? ?)
His 50 year study of Skomer's guillemots was strangely uplifting.

I listened to the audiobook whilst art-making and quickly realised I'd have preferred a print copy, all the better to savour her marvellous writing.

Be warned, it is rage-inducing: how the medical establishment "treated" her endometriosis as a mental illness and the appalling suffering she endured as a consequence is deplorable, disgusting and, I fear, hardly an isolated case. (And God help those women who aren't as articulate as she was!)

In an uncharacteristic bit of self-promotion, I'm excited to tell you that I have launched my creative writing blog/newsletter on Substack! I would be over the moon (and a little bit sick with nerves!) if you'd care to take a look... maybe even subscribe.😉

There's only one story on there at the moment but I am intending to post something every fortnight.
Here's the link: https://katekeogan.substack.com

(Normal service/shyness is now resumed.)😊

In truth, I've never been wild about the Brontës but, written from Emily's point of view, I really enjoyed this. It's given me a greater respect for them and their work (I hadn't realised just how precarious their living situation was). The nature descriptions are wonderful and I liked the various relationships between the siblings (and have conflicted feelings about Branwell).

I wouldn't have chosen a pandemic novel at this point but it's what was available on BorrowBox.
I enjoy how Ali Smith plays with words and story, so it's a pick, but could I tell you what it all *means*? I'm not sure I could. Definitely feels like she's more interested in raising questions than answering them. That's fine by me, but what the hell was going on with the Pelf family?!

I'm a peri-menopausal woman with a daughter; i.e. the core demographic for this book.
I enjoyed it, but question whether the whole horrible conspiracy was necessary (are three dead girls not enough?). I felt that the story sagged and stretched under the burden of it.
Harriet gets all the headlines but my favourite was Nessa.
I can't tell you how tired I am of being told that post-menopausal sex is the best ever: I've other priorities, damn it!

I treated myself to a re-read of my favourite contemporary poet. If she were just brilliant I'd be in the slough of why-doesn't-mine-sound-like-that despond right now. (I mean, when I'm on it I'm bloody good but I'm not Alice Oswald.) As it is, her work is of another order of magnitude, such that my only valid response is joy and gratitude that it exists at all.

Should you ever want to be wrecked by a book, ask Toni Morrison to read "Beloved" to you!
It's a brutal, harrowing story beautifully written and her warm voice dials up the contrast further. Goodness knows what took me so long to get to this but I surely won't forget it in a hurry. I don't want to be flippant and call it a book hangover: this is amongst the most powerful books I've read. I am properly shaken by it.

At times the prose was almost as floribund as Chelsea Flower Show, but I didn't mind too much and, given the subject matter, it had a good deal more nuance than I was expecting. I enjoyed it.

Claire Fuller is a hit and miss author for me but, perversely, I quite enjoyed this one, despite its bleakness, despite the fucked up monomaniac man spreading the up-fuckery around (is that a genre, or just the world?), despite the fact I pretty much guessed what was actually going on. 🤷

Make sure you're getting your B vitamins, dear Littens!

The drama! ?. Many years ago a friend of a friend said to me, "But, darling, one doesn't actually PAY tradesmen!" (My background is working class.) Shirin reminded me of her, which is to say the book gave my empathy muscles a thorough workout! It has important things to say about mothers and daughters, and about the wounds of geographical and cultural displacement ('cause that ain't going away anytime soon) but Shirin and Elizabeth are monstrous.

I like the Hairy Bikers: their recipes work, there's little by way of weird ingredients, and they really know how to double down on flavour. For such "meaty" chaps their veggie food is ?. Approx a third of these recipes are strictly vegan and a good few more are easily adaptable. I've bookmarked a whole list's worth to try!
There's chapters on brunch, salads, soups, light dishes, easy meals, weekend specials, puddings & bakes, and sides & basics.

I love these books about ordinary "unrecorded lives", and especially in audio. They make me curious about, and more kindly disposed towards, all the people in my life whom I barely know (and who, frankly, I generally prefer to keep at arm's length).

As for the book itself, I'm glad of the chance to have got to know Bob Burgess a whole lot better, and it feels right that Lucy and Olive should meet at last.

I'll rate it a pick for the scare value (the consequences of trading privacy and freedom for convenience under surveillance capitalism) and for daring to have a not especially sympathetic MC. But, oh, did it drag... right up until it got wind of the finish line, towards which it fairly galloped!

Maybe I've got the peri-menopausal rage-tinted spectacles on again, but isn't it also about how this economic culture depends on unpaid female labour?

I'm back from a week in Pembrokeshire (my happy place) 🌅
St. David's cathedral had a secondhand book sale: I found this. Didn't have my reading glasses with me that day so couldn't tell exactly what I'd found. I just recognised it was DT. 😄
(Also, I was evidently on a mission to collect every piece of sea glass that was on the beach!)

Tibb Ingleby! This is a naughty, warm-hearted, angry-in-the-right-places book about found family and also has the strongest narrative voice I've encountered in some while. I am well satisfied! ☺️

Before anyone gets hot under the collar, the Passion in question is Bach's St Matthew (and music more generally). 🙂
I love Bach and, completely unreasonably, expected reading this book to feel like listening to his music. Well... it wasn't that, although the rehearsing and first performance of the StMP was truly evocative. Otherwise it tends towards overlong and has saggy-middle-syndrome. JSB comes across as tiresome but I loved all the context.

Oh, this horrible book! I don't mean it is poorly written: I mean that reading it troubled me, partly because I am a woman who has chosen a plant-based diet but mostly because of the disturbing behaviour Yeong-hye experiences at the hands of the other characters.
(Note to self: best stop joking about wanting chloroplasts so I can photosynthesise. I love my food; I just get fed up of the daily catering duty.)

It's Ali Smith so, as far as Classical retellings go, there was a little more going on than the standard fare.
I enjoyed revisiting Ovid's gender-fluid tale of Iphis and Ianthe: kind of wish I could've had Ali Smith's take on it during my teens.

An interesting read, for sure, but I enjoyed the idea of it more than the experience, which was of serial task-switching in novel form and therefore left me feeling rattled. Much as I hate being slapped round the face with the obvious, the connections between the six different narratives/genres were tenuous to say the least. And yet.... something about it makes me want to rate it a pick, though I'm in no great rush to read another of his books. 🤷

Another fantastic book from Sarah Moss (which I put off reading for ages, for superstitious reasons).
I love her fierce intelligence, and her insight into what makes families tick.
I've seen reviews elsewhere complaining of its being another book by her about "woke middle class people". (Yeah, and Jane Austen just writes about marriage, right?)
It's about parents being faced with the mortality of a child.

Oh dear, I think we might have a problem here.
She's talking about the SNS and PNS (sympathetic and para-sympathetic nervous systems) except it sounds like she is saying "penis", which results in startling clauses such as "women with a dominant penis...". And it comes up a lot! (Oh God, now even that innocuous sentence is loaded with Freudian subtext! ?)

(Photo is my journal, with one of the fabulous Dante stickers my daughter made for me. ❤️)
I enjoyed this meticulous book's painstaking sifting of all the extant sources for the facts of Dante's life. Look elsewhere for discussion of his works: this is strictly biographically-focused. Personally, I appreciated being given some context for the creation of his extraordinary Divine Comedy. (Turns out he didn't beam down from outer space/Paradiso! 😄)

I did The Artist's Way 30 years ago (!) & have revisited a couple of times since. This book is a coda to that, not an alternative. Unlike TAW, I didn't follow the chapters as a weekly course: I don't think there was sufficient material to merit doing so.

Her dismissive attitude towards mental illness rubbed me up the wrong way. Creativity helps but is NOT a standalone cure! (Let's not get into how creative pursuits can lead to deep dark places.)

Read for library's book group. I don't know how the library service chooses its monthly books but I wish they'd give us something I can really get my teeth into. This was ok, but over-long. Actually I think it's one of those rare occasions when I would have preferred the TV series. I was interested enough to want to see how the story panned out, but never really cared for the characters. As for that ending! 🤨

Saturday #libraryhaul
That is all. 🙂

I loved this wonderful book (and not just on account of the lusty beetles, fabulous though they were)! ❤️
It could so easily have felt episodic but each new inhabitant left their own mark whilst inheriting all that had gone before.
I found the notion of Robert's films surprisingly moving. And the final chapter just felt... right.

Oh hello, Dante; is that you again?
Apparently this is how Venus retrograde is manifesting in my life, courtesy of BorrowBox. 😄

The Elizabeth Strout and Kimberly Farr audiobook dream-team has done it again!
These books make me think more kindly towards people.

Claire Fuller is a hit-and-miss author for me.
It's not the book's fault I wasn't really in the mood for a pandemic story. However, it felt like three books cobbled together: a memoir of Neffy's earlier life, mostly in Greece; Station Eleven; and one of the recent crop of octopus books.
It had interesting things to say about grief, guilt and a desire to escape to the past rather than face present horrors. I'm not sure it succeeded in saying them.

Read for my library's book group.
Packhorse librarians in 1930s Kentucky: what's not to love? (I was half expecting the library service to launch a volunteer recruitment drive on the back of this. 😆).
I enjoyed it, especially the growing friendships between the women. I did think a major plot point was superfluous, though, and I greatly prefer my characters to have nuance, rather than be straight-up goodies/baddies (all the more so these days).

It's no spoiler to reveal that there's no handy graph with great art on the X axis and monstrosity on the Y axis. What it does have is an ample selection of ethical chew-toys. She discusses themes such as: who gets to be considered a genius? How do we ascribe monstrosity differently to male and female artists? Who the hell is included in "we" anyway? To what extent does "our" individual, subjective judgement have any meaning? I liked it a lot.

Well, this was stirring stuff! It makes some of Uhtred of Bebbanburg's escapades look like a church fête!
There's no getting away from its being a matter of masculine heroics in the extreme; part of me wanted to find it all a bit ridiculous on that account. However, I was audio-drawing and more than once I realised my pen had been hovering motionless over the paper for some minutes. Audio is *definitely* the way to go with this.

Library #bookhaul
My InstantPot has long since been promoted from appliance to sous chef.
I've not made much use of the slow cooker function, though. (The air fryer is a new venture: so far it's at risk of becoming known as "the potato machine".)

She does a fine job of setting out her stall, that between the ages of 8 and 40 or so we're effectively hijacked by biology and culture and that midlife is an opportunity to become our true selves. However I found I don't subscribe to the myths about ageing that she assumes are universal, so it wasn't nearly the paradigm shift that was promised. And while she's good on excavating one's authentic dreams, the realising of them is more problematic.

I am so glad I discovered Beth Kempton (via Instagram, of all places)!
She comes across as a thoughtful, genuine and generous person and her books reflect this. This one's accompanying podcast is a great listen, too, and her website offers various supportive freebies (meditations, a writing group workbook...)

I am actually starting to think about writing again (I haven't been able to write since I completed my poetry book a couple of years ago).