The Girl Booker

The Girl Booker

Sunday, January 4, 2015


It isn’t that I haven’t been reading for the past couple of months, it’s just that I haven’t been reading anything I felt like blogging about. The “what to do during labour” books unsurprisingly don’t make for very interesting discussion. And in between those (which have been mostly OK apart from occasionally turning me quiet and white-faced with a particularly nasty birthing anecdote), I have been reading cappuccino froth books. I’ve enjoyed them all, but they haven’t left me feeling there was anything much to say. Oh, and I have also had to read endless reams of flyers and booklets from the hospital about the various stages of pregnancy and birth* which has taken up a fair bit of my time.

Anyways, here is a brief rundown what I have managed to read lately:

First Impressions (Charlie Lovett). Quite fun, but dipped too far into the realms of implausible for me, especially in the final 20 or so pages. If I wasn’t on holidays with a cold I am not sure I would have been able to finish it.

The Hawley Book of the Dead (Chrysler Szarlan). A completely silly book about witches and magic that was 43 kinds of awesome. I got totally sucked into it and had an absolute ball reading it. It was a bit like A Discovery of Witches.

Venetia (Georgette Heyer). A pure comfort re-read, and so, so good. Regency romance is not for everyone, but if you can get past that I cannot recommend an author more passionately for sheer storytelling magic. And the hats and dresses are good too.

Tincture Journal (two most recent issues). Actually, this is not frothy at all, but being able to read the stories and articles in bite sized pieces made it feel easier to dip in and out of. I have also contributed to issue 8, and, being the fame-whore that I am, feel to compelled to mention this here AND provide you with a link to where you can buy a copy for yourself: Click here!

As soon as I figure out how to write an engaging blogpost about breast pump operating instructions and/or board books containing one word per page, I will be back up and running with regular Girlbooker amazingness, so watch this space.

*This is a bald-faced lie. I have been given all this stuff, but I have read almost none of it. There is something kind of soul destroyingly boring and sad about things photocopied onto that pale green paper, as if the non-whiteness of the paper underscores the dullness of the content instead of alleviating it, which is, presumably, the intention. It felt pretty good to pretend for 3 seconds that I had been virtuous enough to read it all though!