Tag: danger will robinson

The Magicians, Lev Grossman (Or my childhood, dying before my eyes…)

When I was young, the next (big) town up from our non-existent village had an annual used book sale – it was HUGE (at least to my 8 yr old eyes). There were thousands of books, piled onto tables, stacked in boxes against the walls, leaning and supporting each other like so many lopsided towers of pisa.

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?