Great Expectations by Charles Dickens – I thought this book was longer than it is. It’s actually a reasonable length. I’ve always struggled with Charles Dickens. I know his books are supposed to be humorous? I have never been able to recognise that, trying to get past some of the language and obviously society was different then. I did read Oliver Twist and I liked that one. I will give this a go. I’m sure I have already read some of it.
Howard’s End by E. M. Forster– I read a few pages and I had to put it back down. I find with some classics the way women are spoken of and to is too much. I like to chill with a book sometimes, not only for education and getting angry. I did read A Passage to India by this author, it was recommended by my English teacher at the time and that one I did enjoy. I will have to re-read that.
The Waves by Virginia Woolf – I love the way this woman writes, but. But this didn’t grab me. I put it down and haven’t gotten around to picking it up again yet. I read some of her books and I think I was too young to fully appreciate them. Like Orlando, didn’t get it. I read a lot of classics around the age of 11/12 and while I enjoyed them, I don’t think I fully appreciated when, why etc. they were written and about the writer. I think I just absorbed them. I love the cover of this book, only cost 80 pence in the 70’s. If only books cost that now. I mean, postage costs a couple of quid.
Far from the Madding Crowd – I read Jude the Obscure when I was 16? Love the name Jude. That’s all it took for me to read it, the name Jude. And that was me done with Thomas Hardy. Done. Too much. Bit like poking a bruise, curiosity made me buy this one, I bought Jude the Obscure too, and perhaps I will read it. Will I re-read Jude the Obscure though? I’m not sure.
I slot the key into the lock and turn it. With my foot on the bottom of the rotten door frame, I push open the door, and step into the shop. The post under my feet crunches. I shut the door and crouch down to scoop them up. Tentatively I weave my way through Betty Boop statues, and Bamboo side tables to the back of the room, where I place the post on the till, which leaves my fingers coated in grime.
My phone bings. I swipe up the screen. Name: Dani. I put the phone to my ear. ‘Hello.’ I say. ‘Hi’ Dani says. ‘Can you see me?’ ‘When.’ ‘Now, later, tonight. Whenever.’ ‘I can’t, really. I have a doctor’s appointment, then I go to the council, and the Jobcentre. Then I have to do some shopping.’ ‘OK. See ya when I see ya then.’ Beep.
I scratch my shoulder, pulling the vodka out of the plastic bag I bought in with me. I take out the plastic cups, and rip off the wrapping, slipping a cup from the bottom of the tube. My hand shakes as I pour the vodka into the cup, and put the bottle down on the till, sliding a small bottle of lemonade from the bag, and topping it up. A carriage clock ticks. Ominous. I can’t stand the ticking of a clock. I will have to find a way to silence them. All of them. My eyes run along the shelves of clocks: glinting silver, and gold soldiers.
Thanks for reading. I hope you took something from it. Drop me a comment below, let me know if there’s anything of yours that you have published recently because I am always up for reading new stuff;
sat on the edge of the bathtub my feet, wet, in the rivers of the flowing cold water over my toes as i dab in-between the tiles on the wall with a damp cloth occasionally sprizting it with a black mould remover catching the trail before it slides down, and soon the smell of a swimming pool invades my nostrils i gag
Thanks for reading. If you want to read more of my poetry, please head over to my Patreon
first you must have an idea, however small – ideas are like dough – they rise higher than you ever thought they would
then some courage is needed to put the idea into words on a page
when they are words on a page, they must be edited – not to perfection – the odd typo – let’s make it a puzzle to see if anyone who visits will notice – (i certainly didn’t)
when cutting and pasting *remember* to keep formatting as it is – and schedule it for next Friday and not accidently backdate it to last Friday (which i certainly didn’t do and never have)
Google popular tags and times of day best to post – i still do this after 5 years – you would think i would learn – open Twitter & check hashtags other bloggers are using – become distracted –
reading their blogs and your TBR list has gained several new books – oops, just like that
if it is a book review blog – do include if the book was an ARC – i promise my unbiased opinion –
make sure the post has images and in preview – check the paragraphs haven’t bunched together –
is the blog connected to social networks – post automatically –
have i titled the post – no no – think for ten minutes on something that will entice the reader – draw them in – realise laptop is 2 per cent away from running out of battery – save blog schedule to post and breathe.
thank you for reading this spontaneous poem. if you want to read other poems, i posted one here a few days ago and another here last week. You could also become a subscriber of my Patreon and find lots of my poems on there.
I bloody love Dirty Dancing. I think it’s an amazing film. I had a crush on both Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze as a teenager. Katy Brand writes in her book how the film has impacted her life and I didn’t expect much from this book, I just love connecting with other people’s love for something that I also love. Katy shares my name (obv.) and lived locally to me, so I connected with that. The cultural references, like VHS struggles, I identified with all of that. The essays that Katy writes on Dirty Dancing are fascinating, going into depth on the – for example abortion storyline in the film and so it was fun but serious too. It isn’t fluff. Not that there is anything wrong with fluff. It felt like a satisfying read, you know sometimes you get to the end of a book and you’re almost like oh is that … it? Like a roast dinner with no Yorkshire’s, it doesn’t feel right. I felt I Carried a Watermelon covered everything. I loved it. In fact, I think I may just pop a hardback copy into my basket now. Ooh Lord, and now I am being shown frequently brought with products. A shirt, Dirty Dancing DVD, a mug …
Thank you HQ for gifting me with an ARC copy of this book