It’s been ages since I did anything that resembled an actual blog post. What can I say, life gets busy – I’ve been working, I’ve been writing, I got a melodica, you know how it is.
But I did want to emerge from the [seemingly never-ending] bubble of writing book 2 to share a couple of novels that have thrown me off axis and left me breathless.
John Lanchester’s Capital is tremendous piece of writing, bringing together an assortment of characters all connected by the one residential street in London. I adored every line of Lanchester’s sharp, droll book and couldn’t bear it to end. I finished the book completely in awe of his ability to produce a coherent single book with so many interwoven characters, and of the perfection of his turn of phrase.
I also read and adored Vendela Vida’s The Diver’s Clothes Lie Empty, which I picked up by chance in The Paperback Bookshop. I’d heard her interviewed on the A Tiny Sense of Accomplishment podcast and was utterly sceptical of how well a literary book written in second person would work. As usual, I was staggeringly wrong. If you’ve not read it, I utterly recommend it. Again, I was completely in awe of her talent.
Now I’m off to read in the bath whilst drinking a beer, because Thursday night is my Friday night and Friday day is my writing day. Salute!