Tag: danger will robinson

Bingo @ BlueCastle, November, (or just when I was about to truly despair, I tied in a win….!)

It has been one of THOSE months.

You know, the ones where each week is ascendingly more awful than the week preceding it, until you are at this zenith point of Terribleness, but there is nowhere escape and you think: yep, this is it. Hell has frozen over and I am just waiting for a nod from one of the four horseman before the End of Days is officially declared.

Yeah, one of those Novembers.

Everywhere and Every Way, Jennifer Probst, (Or one trope sandwich – hold the cheese…)

Last month I was late with my TBR challenge (*hangs head in shame*), so I was determined to be AT LEAST almost on time with this one…

This month’s TBR Challenge, pulled from Wendy the Super Librarian’s Cliffs of Insanity was Favourite Trope. Which is kind of like asking me which of my cat-children I love best, or which M&M flavour I horde secretly so I don’t have to share…Or my favourite type of alcohol…

I mean really who can decide?

Valancy & the Mountain of Terribleness, (or, the Never-Ending Search for the Emancipated Female…)

I don’t THINK it has been a while since I posted – but it FEELS like it.
Life has been too – too…just TOO.
It also hasn’t helped that I’ve been stranded on a monadnock (YES – the COOLEST new descriptor ever) of terrible books. At times I wondered if I was going to have to go all Hatchet on them just to get out alive – but last night there was a break through(!) (*tears of relief*)

See Me, Nicholas Sparks (Or a dud by any other name…)

The world can never be free of Nicholas Sparks.
I have realised this. I may not have embraced it, but I have definitely acknowledged the fact that in the world of bizarre, strange, intriguing, generic, and down right bland interests, Nicholas Sparks fills a void.
He is the reason why prematurely grey actors still can find work; why action heroes can still make movies in the off-season, why women (and society in general), have completely unrealistic ideas about

The Coincidence of Coconut Cake, Amy E. Reichert (or the only food book not to make me hungry…)

If there is one thing I can not resist in the world – it’s a romance with food & food peoples. You know how some people are about cowboys? How they start fanning themselves and getting heart palpitations at the mere mention of a jingling spur??? Well, Foodie Romances (is that a thing? I’m not sure – but BlueCastle is making it so), are like my own personal catnip. I can’t resist them. Chefs, cooks, B&B’s with food, kitchens, restaurants, food vans, catering, fast food* – it’s like a book buffet.

Carbon Copy Companion Reading II (or is everything a vague reflection of GEORGETTE HEYER??)

So was reading a book… perambulating through it really – when I was slowly overwhelmed by this feeling. Not all at once mind you – more like an encroaching tide of inevitability, coupled with a sense of ineluctable destiny. Like all roads would lead to this point, regardless of the path I took. No Robert Frost for me thank you. I was like: no, wait…there is something about this that is soo familiar… It was elusive (not unlike the scarlet pimpernel). It was liminal. It was Georgette Heyer. Again. It did make me wonder: do all roads lead to Georgette Heyer?

About a Boy: Minuscule Thoughts on a Book…The Unfinished Garden, Barbara Claypole White

Musings, reflection, rumination, cogitation: more of this than an actual review – because I am just not sure how I feel about the whole book really. I discovered Barbara Claypole White’s The Unfinished Garden, whilst browsing.
It was in that nifty little section that triumphantly advises ‘people who liked your book also liked these’; meaning if YOU had the good taste to stumble upon this book, then surely you will like to purchase these OTHER books that people who may have BETTER taste then you liked too…

More Than You Dreamed (or how I fell back off the Gilles Seidel Love Wagon…)

Dear More Than You Dreamed.
I don’t know if you remember me, but I am the individual, who just last week, threw you at my wall and left you lying awkwardly and splayed in the corner of my lounge-room. I apologise sincerely for any injuries sustained in the course of this event, and I have since (you will note), picked you up, unbent your cover, generally un-smooshed you and placed you high on a shelf in my study. You may be wondering about the highness of the shelf, its relative distance from my lounge room, and its relative closeness to the two daddy long-legs that are inhabiting the corner of said study…

Valancy and the pile of MEH

I am sad to report and and even more loath to write it… BUT I think it may be possible that I have entered a wee doldrum of book reading.

Yes, like the muppets of treasure island ilk, I have sailed the distant oceans, traversed the waters and just when the I was avast ye-ing into the horizon, I encountered the doldrums…or in this case: the-enormous-pile-of-books-I-started-and-threw-down-again-in-frustration/hatred/annoyance/disdain.

It’s a big pile. My cats edge quietly around it, wondering if its precarious lean to left will end in a squished tail.