schietree

Copies of I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith for World Book Night.

Are you going to be in the centre of Edinburgh on Monday the 23rd of April? Head to North and South Bridge around 5ish and you’ll see me handing out copies to all takers. Please come and say hello (and if you haven’t read a book in a while, I’ll gladly give you one)

Photo via: Schietree

Two Good Things
  • 1. I've been selected as a giver for World Book Night (23rd April). I'm giving out I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith, because it is a lovely book for all ages/reading interest levels. I'll be on South Bridge, in Edinburgh, handing out the novel to all takers.
  • 2. The lovely INTERN of http: //internspills.blogspot.com/ has sent me a photo and description for the Share Your Spaces project! Still time to enter if you are so inclined: http://schietree.wordpress.com/2012/02/13/share-your-spaces/
pankmagazine.com
My first review (on Not Merely Because Of The Unknown That Was Stalking Toward Them By Jenny Boully) is up at PANK! I am overly excited about this!

In this prose-poem hybrid, the texts of Peter Pan have been enmeshed, re-corded, and spun into a thickness of sensual detail and slippery cross-reference. Under Boully’s fingertips, Neverland has burst open like a sodden swollen root, spilling out cutlery, birds, bearskins, thimbles, peas, open windows, mermaid scales, pubic hair, damp pirate beards, and fairy dust, of course. It is up to the reader to square their pith hat and push on through the glorious mire.

I have written a reviewer’s manifesto over on Schietree, because sometimes you just feel like laying it out for yourself and others in a rather an over-the-top way.  

Thanks to all who left book reading suggestions, and do go over to the blog add more if you have them!

The Return
  • This is the last house where I’d wish
  • to find myself;
  • the smell of dark timber, corners of dust-
  • discoloured grouse,
  • the bar bitty with glass
  • and drawn blood,
  • too many mirrors
  • pooling the hall’s windows
  • into refraction, and all through
  • to where the bridge straddles its weedpond
  • and the wind spits.
  • But we are here.
  • The barometer’s stopped
  • the grandfather’s tick
  • slowed to a drawl
  • the grate stubbed, ashes swept.
  • Haul us the bottle down
  • let us take it in.