I went into Manchester today to use some vouchers that I received at Christmas. I bought three books, and, while reading a book that I took with me from home over coffee, I received an email from Amazon UK that a book I had ordered had been dispatched, and then received a forwarded email from Amazon.com that a book I had won on a blogger friend’s* giveaway had been delivered through my letterbox.
Can you guys discern a recurring theme here?
You may also see a coincidence below between the book that I won and one of the books that I bought. If not, I’ll provide clues maybe in my next post.
*https://lmarie7b.wordpress.com this is Linda’s blog, who graciously highlights other writers’ books (including my own) and provides chances to win copies. Check out her great blog.
I’ve just started reading Jack Finney’s The Body Snatchers.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Thing From Another World are my favourite 50’s sci-fi films, and though I’ve watched Invasion many times over the years it’s taken me this long to read the book. I’m not sure why. The same thing happened with Jaws.
Jaws is one of the few instances, possibly the only instance, where I’ve preferred the movie adaptation to the book itself, and as I love the Body Snatchers film perhaps the same thing will happen now. My expectations are, though, that I’ll at least be checking the garden shed and beneath the decking for pods. Anything less and I’ll be disappointed.
The title of this post is, of course, taken from the movie, and there’s another line which, if you substitute the name Becky for Andy, I’m sure my wife could relate to:
I’ve been afraid a lot of times in my life. But I didn’t know the real meaning of fear until… until I had kissed Becky.
I’m sat on this rainy day in a cafe, drinking coffee and reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Other Tales Of Terror.
The title of this post comes, not from Jekyll, but from the included gothic vampire tale Olalla, which has captivated me on this gloomy morning. It’s to stories such as this that I habitually begin to turn to around this time.
Even just out of a heatwave, and the recent cessation of the hill fires, maybe it’s the sensing of those approaching blue, irregular nights that puts me in this frame of mind.
We are not out of the woods yet. Though we are in the tail end of March there is still talk of cold weather to come, with possible snow for Easter being mooted.
But still, there’s always signs, hints of the season to follow. Winter is fighting it’s last rearguard action, and the end will be merciful. Easter does indeed bring a resurrection.
The longer days, the warmer weather and emerging wildlife always seem to bring a creative boon, and now is no different. I am tweaking the manuscript for a second poetry collection: In Brigantia, before returning to the second draft of the novel Seasons On The Hill that I’m writing. Beyond this I have ideas for a semi-fictional take on family stories handed down to me, provisionsally entitled In Times Of War, and also a collection of short stories called The Night Spills In.
I’ve also agreed this week to proofread a translated work for a fellow poet, so things are starting to move.I’ve got a tentative plan about the order of things.
But first a coffee, I think, and see what tomorrow’s weather brings.
My debut poetry collection, Heading North, was published by Nordland Publishing two years ago today. I’m still rather proud of it.
If anybody wants to buy a copy, with Christmas around the corner, there is a link below. Or, if any of you should find yourself near the Middleton public library in Manchester, UK, or the Norway National Library, you could have a read for free.