Tag: tall dark & misogynistic

Sisterhood of the Travelling Film Festival

Shall I tell you what I have just survived????

It’s not near-death by jungle python, or near-miss by a bison; although, with the relief I feel at it being finished, it could be totally reclassified as such…) No, It was a solid 72 hours of film festival. To the uninitiated, that’s 9 films, 30 shorts and very little space in between…

RE JANE, Patricia Park (or an analogous Jane Eyre)

My understanding, going in was that is was a RE-IMAGINING of Jane Eyre. A contemporary Korean American retelling of Charlotte Bronte’s inimitable classic. It looked modern, bright, full of potential…But having learned from bitter experience, and previous forays in to this type of thing, I kept my expectations low. So, say, anything above a blank piece of paper was going to be a good thing.

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?

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…

Again (or How I’ve Climbed onto the Gilles Seidel Love Wagon)

For those following – or caring – I was last writing in the midst of a terrible, horrible, no-good, purple-spotted book slump. It was like being in the fire swamp from the Princess Bride: flame spurts, lightning sand, rodents of unusual size and worst of all: deeply terrible stories.

Fortunately, I managed to stagger through, out into the light, and when I did, I was clasping Kathleen Gilles Seidel’s Again.