‘Well, they couldn’t make a film of that!’ said the Resident IT Consultant as he came to the end of the book. That’s the same man who had exclaimed against authors who write their books as though they were films. ‘Don’t give it away!!’ I screamed, and he looked surprised. Had I not read it? No, I had not. Somehow this touring/visiting lark took all my energy and virtually no words were read. At all.
He went through two of my so hopefully packed books, while I… Well, eventually I read a couple of chapters of a book I first read a few years ago, but which has changed so needs my renewed attention.
School Friend suggested I read one of her ‘excellent’ real children’s books. I looked at them and came to the conclusion they wouldn’t save a non-reading travelling witch. Nor would the photo of a painted bookcase full of books which she offered me. Nice, but it was more art than literature. She also told me about, and showed me, the books she had read during her five weeks of holiday. And that made me feel so much better… (No, it didn’t. That was sarcasm.) As we said goodbye she was readying herself to finish the latest holiday book in the peace and quiet we hopefully restored by departing.
Anyway, all this visiting took a lot out of me, and I am now pretending to be normal, slowly getting re-started on things a Bookwitch ought to do. I’m already further on my re-reading of the changed book. I feel as though I’m back in the days when I was saved by Roger Whittaker and Ann Granger, 20 to 25 years ago. RW by singing so wonderfully that I slept better at night after Son’s birth. AG (lovely initials) for getting me reading again, a year or so after Daughter appeared on the scene.
Sorry about the sandwich yesterday. I am a mere prawn in a bigger game.