I’m getting nicely excited about the new Jim Butcher book, Ghost Story, which releases in a day or two, as well as a couple more new books on the horizon, which are presumably released for the summer holiday reading season. I’m not sure why there is such a season, exactly. Everyone knows that all books taken onto beaches become cheap thrillers regardless of what they started out as, so why not just take any old thing.
In fact, reading any old thing can be fun. Old books have a certain charm to them, particularly if they’re out of print, and you can be certain of reading something that practically no one else has for years. I have a few very cheap second hand books on cricket around the house, and it always intrigues me to read them. They’re like a time capsule, yet at the same time, many of them are still at least vaguely relevant. Plus they give me a chance to go ‘Oo’ at odd moments of recognition, such as when the commentators on the first Test with India happened to mention that the only spinner with a better Test record at Lords than Grahame Swann is Headly Verity, whose book on bowling I have tucked away somewhere.
My own novelling proceeds apace. Apparently, there’s a good chance of getting preliminary sketches back in the next week or two for the cover, and that’s always a great moment. Some of the ghostwritten stuff is taking a little longer to get on with, but it’s still going at a decent pace.
I had a go at contacting someone connected with the Beverley Literature Festival the other day. I haven’t heard back yet, but it might be nice to get involved, because I know the area has a lot to offer creatively, and I am one of those people who is in danger of doing the whole ‘sitting in a garret’ thing otherwise. A laptop and an Internet connection can connect you to the world in theory, but they can also provide an excuse not to go outside for… actually, I’ve just worked it out, and it’s been a rather scary six days worth.