... since the last post.
Oh, my. I have done it again, haven't I? Two and a half months without posting. Well, I've been a busy girl. First there's been the duty type stuff. That tends to creep in until there's not much room for other things. Then there's been the building project that is only weeks (fingers crossed) away from being finished. Kids are well and truly back at school and almost through second term. I've been re-assessing my writing goals with some very nice writing friends and rediscovering the joy (and sometimes the angst) of putting words together.
As I said, I've been fairly proactive with the writing, but I'm happy to say the reading hasn't been neglected either. Since my last post, I've been through a few fabulous books, and am now enjoying 'The White Tiger' by Aravind Adiga. This is the second book I've read about India, and funnily enough, both books won the Booker for their authors. I also believe - though I'm not sure - that both authors were first timers. What a way to explode onto the writing scene, hey?
But compared to 'The God of Small Things', this book is quite tongue-in-cheek and irreverent. Both books paint a picture of India as a fascinating, enigmatic, infuriating land of great disparity and mystery. For now, it's a place I prefer to read about.
While I was reading this book, I read from cover to cover, Denise Scott's hilarious autobiography. I also tried to read 'March', but it was from the library, and I took longer than the measly 3 weeks they allow you to borrow a book. I returned it and will borrow again when I've finished this one.
Oh, and I absolutely loved 'The Movie Girl'. I can imagine it being made into a movie. The heroine would probably be played by Miranda Kerr, and the leading man, well that could be, perhaps... oh, I don't know. Someone young and gorgeous like Chase Crawford. It was light-hearted, fun and well written. I was glued to the story throughout and I was impressed at how well the author managed to create a strong romantic conflict and high emotional stakes without the whole thing turning to mush. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel and I look forward to reading more of Kate Lace's work.
Swimming, a beautiful, evocative novel set around the suburbs of Melbourne I know so well. The novel centres on one woman's journey through the experience of childlessness. There are many gut-wrenching scenes here, and the theme is sensitively and honestly explored. This first novel is capably handled by a talented and promising new writer, Enza Gandolfo.
At a writers' conference a couple of years ago, I heard one of the writers say she had put off reading any of La Vyrle Spencer's books because she thought her name was so awful. I confess I had the same impression. And how wrong we both were. After reading That Camden Summer, I have nothing but praise for Spencer. Though there is so much head-hopping in this book that it was sometimes difficult to know whose thoughts I was reading, it hardly got in the way. The story was wonderful, as were the characters. Un-put-downable.
Oh, dear. After hearing so many wonderful things about Isabel Allende, I must confess I will probably never read one of her books again. Allende's writing is masterly, there is no doubt of that, and though Daughter of Fortune told a story full of intrigue and promise, a rushed ending left far too many loose ends for my liking.
The story of Laura Bush was a fascinating peek into the private life of a very public person. I thoroughly enjoyed American Wife, for its competent, smooth writing, but mostly for its voyeur quality.
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