Television Was Called Books

The Twenty-Second of June Two Thousand and Eleven. Wednesday.

I am illiterate.

I know that will not come as a surprise to anybody who has tried to make sense of by previous scribblings, but amid statistics published by the National Literacy Trust that three in 10 UK children 'own no books' I have to confess that I haven't had a proper sit down read of a novel in ages.

I'm trying to think back to what the last one I read was. Nope - it's been that long ago I can't remember. Away from novels, I did polish off William Shatner's autobiography a couple of months ago, but that was the very definition of a 'toilet book', composed as it was of a compilation of anecdotes that made it easy to dip in to during short trips to the bathroom.

Blimey, the more I think about it I'm not even that good with comics and I'm supposed to be really into them. I've just renewed the three graphic novels I borrowed from the library because I still haven't got round to reading them after three weeks (and coupled with the fact I don't seem to be watching that much telly what am I doing with my time?)

What it is, right (oh, how I hate that phrase. It's almost always followed by the words 'I've got no money to pay for a ticket', or 'I've missed the train I was booked on'. When did I get so cynical? Or is it merely realistic? Am I ever likely to hear someone say 'What it is, right, is that I thought you might like a Fruit Pastille'? Probably not), is that I seem to be tired all the time. Not surprising, I guess, what with it being 3 in the morning now. But whenever I get a quiet moment and start to read I tend to get so relaxed that I drop off to sleep before I know it. A book at bedtime almost never works - I do that 'reread the last paragraph three times' thing regularly as I start to doze.

I have The Visitor by Sheri S Tepper by my bedside.

I haven't picked it up in months as it fell foul of my drooping eyelids (and I love Sheri S Tepper. I haven't read her last few books, but there was a time when I would eagerly consume each new title as it came out. She has a real talent for dropping you right in the middle of a fully created world with its own peculiar society and language and then filling out the details as the plot unfolds. I love her turn of phrase too - dates in The Visitor are labelled ATHCAW much as we would put AD or CE after a year. It turns out this stands for 'After The Happening Came And Went' with no explanation at first as to what 'The Happening' might have been. Today's musings were inspired by the news that her next book will connect together characters and plots from A Plague of Angels and its recent sequel The Waters Rising with ones from her True Game books from, whoa, way back in the 80s, man. So I've got to get reading again...). That will be my next book - eventually.

I've always envied the ability of my friend Lindsay to speed through a doorstep sized Stephen King in an afternoon. My concentration tends to wander too easily. It doesn't help that I have a lousy memory. Oh, trivia and odd details stick there, but I honestly couldn't tell you much of what happened in most of the books I've read. But the sense and the themes, and the odd image, seem to get absorbed into my unconscious somehow. Perhaps, for someone like me, if they could come up with novels in a lotion form that you could apply like sun cream and take in by osmosis that would be a solution (oo, bonus pun points there, I think). That's more or less what I try to do now with audiobooks - absorb a reading when I go on a journey. But the nodding off problems still apply, and the 10 minute walk to work is too short to build up a sense of narrative - gone are the days of half an hour on the bus in either direction and reading a couple of chapters a day. Mind you, it wouldn't be impossible to squeeze in one of Martin Jarvis' fab Just William readings.

And when am I going to get around to 'proper' books. I've done some Brontës, a bit of Hardy, a little Marquez but I keep saying I'll get around to Dickens and Austen one day. When, though? I have a backlog of Paul Magrs and what's that latest Maupin Tales of the City book like? The film of Submarine has made me want to chase up the book and if I reread Hitchhiker like I've threatened to do will I ever make it to Eoin Colfer's follow-up And Another Thing? Perhaps I should stick to non-fiction - those Caitlin Moran and Tina Fey books look good.

Hmm, perhaps I should invest in an ebook reader - something gimmicky to kick start this new literary binge (although it's obscene how much more expensive a Kindle is in this country compared to America). No, an iPad! There we go, I've got an good excuse to get an iPad now.

And if I don't feel like reading anything there's plenty of other stuff I could do on it...

More soonliest

As Played By Simon Callow in 'The Unquiet Dead'

The Twenty-Fifth of May Two Thousand and Eleven. Wednesday.

I thought it might be quirky to write out the date on each entry in long hand like that but after the first one I saw that the blog automatically puts the date at the top anyhoo so it does look a bit dumb. But it does set an interesting tension between products of the mechanism and the will so I might continue to do it nevertheless.

Let's be honest, I'm as surprised as you are to see me here 2 days on the trot so that might not even be an issue in the long run.

Oh my waistline. I think the best bakery chain in North Yorkshire (my adopted home and location for (in this order) spawning no1, nuptials, spawning no2 and imminent divorce) is Thomas the Baker. Two reasons: their Veg-able pasties (and 'Yorkshire Pizza' now I think about it - three! Three reasons! (tips hat in direction of Cardinal Biggles and the rest of the Inquisition) and the fact that their name is a bit like Tom Baker - a little-known actor who was in Life and Loves of a She-Devil and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. And the Dungeons and Dragons film (pronounced 'fillum') (which is rubbish - even though I haven't seen it - and is not to be confused with the cartoon - which is awesome (and I mean that in a completely non-arch, unironic way - some of it is simply brilliant, and thus it becomes my Second Telly Recommendation). My plan today was to go to Thomas for a pasty for my brunch (Vin's working day: start at 6, finish at 2, feed at 10) but I had forgotten that they had closed for refurbishment. So off to Hardies (other Scarborough baker) for an egg mayonnaise barm (and yes, a mushroom quiche thing as well - there's a reason the opening of this paragraph reads what it does). All well and good (although the bread was a little dry) but here is the point of this ramble.

On my way back to work I passed Pizza Hut and there was a blue plaque on the outside that said that Charles Dickens had performed readings there.

I'll say that again.

Charles Dickens performed readings in Pizza Hut, Scarborough.

I think that's what it said. I meant to take a photo to post here (I will do - somebody remind me if I don't) but I forgot and picked up 8 small bottles of Irn Bru from Poundland instead.

I told this to my homeboy, Jon Eves (yo, Jeves! Respec', blood) (the thing about Dickens and pizza, not the Irn Bru bit. Come on!) and he suggested that his visit was probably where the great author received the inspiration to write 'please sir - I want some more.' (Do they still do free refills on pop there?)

Hey, I've just realised! Not just Dickens, but 'Thomas' and 'Hardies'. Cool.

More soonliest