Is e ‘n t-ionnsachadh òg an t-ionnsachadh bòidheach

December 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

I have finished the three books about Lewis, the Northern-most island of the Hebrides. I really did find Mr Shock of Tousled Blonde Curls INSUFFERABLE by the end, but the scenery made up for it. My hunger for wild and cruel landscapes is at an all time high.

But now back to the library. Next up we have The Death of King Arthur by Peter Ackroyd. Bound to be poor, but what can one expect when one insists on silly games? I’ll probably read one excellent book in ten – for the rest of my life. Or until they close the library, which is an even bleaker prospect.

Before you go, here is the best Gaelic saying ever for your delectation:

Is luath fear doimeig air fàire, latha fuar Earraich – Swift is the slut’s husband over the hill, on a bleak day in Spring.

Like, can you even?

Books Two and Three

November 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

I should have thought of this. Book two is obviously another Megan Abbott. Brilliant.

I’ll read it though. I didn’t hate the cheerleaders, it was just a bit try-hard is all.

So we have book two, The End of Everything, and book three, The Death of King Arthur by Peter Ackroyd. Pretty different. The first is about best friends and boys and sleepovers; the second is about Merlin and Camelot. One cover has an Instagram-filtered photo of a girl in shorts, all lowercase title. The other a golden sword and all uppercase serifs.

Although this approach to the library is not without its irritations (Megan Abbott), I did just return books and borrow books within one minute. This is what scary old ladies who only wear black trousers, black shoes, black turtlenecks and pearls are doing with life. It’s brilliant. I revere tradition in literature – hushed stacks and morning-long browsing – but I also have the smash-and-grab attitude of a drug addict. I will take books, any books, if I need them. I’m not fussy, just give me words, NOW before the shakes come back.

So here’s to another saccharine slush novella about BFFs hating each other. Could be worse, could be blind.

ETA: don’t think my progress slow; I’ve been unable to restrict myself to the start-to-finish library borrowing. Have also downed a Chuck Palahniuk, a book about sociopaths, one on curiosity, Read Me, a Stephen King and The Scarlet Letter since the first library visit. As there’s no one playing but me and I have the rest of my life to play in, I think I’ll stroll this one. x

ETA: not a good start Megan.


What a compound. You’ve got to admire her boldness.

ETA: this is like reading a book written by me at 16. It makes me feel a bit sick.


ETA: I must stop using premodifying and compound adjectives.

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with Peter Ackroyd at Mutated Musings.