The Edgar Allan Poe Awards have seen the light, and will be handing the next Edgar to Sara Paretsky. The announcement came at a particularly suitable moment, because Sara had blogged about how she felt a bit down, because she has difficulty typing right now, due to an old injury. Easy to understand the impact this has on an author. Ever the modest writer, Sara doesn’t seem to feel she deserves the Edgar. She can be so wrong sometimes. But not often.
From not deserving an award to ‘not deserving’ an event. I’m on the email list for bookshop events, and one recent listing was for an event that’s ‘exclusively for our customers’. I’m still wondering what that means. I can’t see how I wouldn’t qualify, but deep down I feel that I don’t.
I have now had two guest blogs published on The View From Here, and despite the editor suggesting I make my latest offering slightly more American-friendly, it didn’t take long before someone was offended. But why be bland? Readers here know I tend to be a little on the weird side, but for readers of TVFH it can be easy to take irony at face value.
My calves went shopping last week. Bet you didn’t know I keep calves! I have two, one on the right and one on the left. Leg. Anyway, I needed a silver pen for use on dark coloured Christmas cards. Into WHS I went. I was overwhelmed by all the displays, and I can find it hard to see what I’ve come for at the best of times. I found the pens eventually, and I found that there was so much writing on every single piece of packaging that it was almost impossible to efficiently skim the display. By sheer luck I spied something down at knee height, but as I bent down – stiffly – I noticed the description for the knee-high goods was down at calf height. I could neither read it, nor bend down far enough.
I know I complain all the time. But I fail to see (I did, didn’t I?) what they are doing, selling things down on what’s virtually the floor.
And I love Americans. Obviously.