I have to admit I've done very little during these school holidays. When friends ask what I've been up to, I'm tempted to make things up, because the honest answer of 'reading and writing' makes me sound like a five year old. I will have to vacate the armchair soon, though. It is time to buy The Holiday Book.
I had Holiday Book rules as a child: they had to be non-fiction - because I hardly ever read non-fiction and thought I should do from time to time - and I had to limit myself to one carrier bag-full. I also had to buy a book from wherever we were going, that was relevant to the area. I must have been a real pain to go on holiday with. Luckily, my parents have always read a lot, so didn't mind being dragged around every independent bookshop in Britain. I remember reading a biography of St. Bernadette Soubirous and wondering if I would see visions of the Virgin Mary in the caves of Yorkshire. I was about ten years old, so can probably be excused this idiocy. (I was also afraid of being possessed after reading The Exorcist at the dead of night with a torch, when I was thirteen, which was less excusable. My parents never banned me from reading any books, so I read some dreadful rubbish and scared myself silly. They thought that being allowed to choose my own reading material would teach me to be a discriminating reader. They were right, although my father's Leslie Thomas paperbacks also taught me a few lessons...) Holidays in Wales provided the best books. I blew all my holiday money on a hardback copy of The Mabinogion which, many years later, provided The Daughter's name.
I had Holiday Book rules as a child: they had to be non-fiction - because I hardly ever read non-fiction and thought I should do from time to time - and I had to limit myself to one carrier bag-full. I also had to buy a book from wherever we were going, that was relevant to the area. I must have been a real pain to go on holiday with. Luckily, my parents have always read a lot, so didn't mind being dragged around every independent bookshop in Britain. I remember reading a biography of St. Bernadette Soubirous and wondering if I would see visions of the Virgin Mary in the caves of Yorkshire. I was about ten years old, so can probably be excused this idiocy. (I was also afraid of being possessed after reading The Exorcist at the dead of night with a torch, when I was thirteen, which was less excusable. My parents never banned me from reading any books, so I read some dreadful rubbish and scared myself silly. They thought that being allowed to choose my own reading material would teach me to be a discriminating reader. They were right, although my father's Leslie Thomas paperbacks also taught me a few lessons...) Holidays in Wales provided the best books. I blew all my holiday money on a hardback copy of The Mabinogion which, many years later, provided The Daughter's name.
Nothing to do with today's blog - it was
just put on facebook by a friend and I liked it...
Anyway, Holiday Book rules now are that I take one book, which is by an author I've never read before, and has to be the longest book by them that I can find. This means I have to go to a proper book shop, rather than browsing Amazon. I've had a couple of disasters. Anathem by Neal Stephenson was amazing to start with, then I got confused by the made up language and fed up with checking what words meant in the appendix. That was the holiday I gave up and bought the whole series of Anne of Green Gables, as I'd not read it as a child, and spent every evening sobbing into my wine glass. Successes have been The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, which has to rate in my Top 10 books ever, and the quirky Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear by Walter Moers, which is just wonderfully silly.
I just hope the Friendly Book Guy in Waterstones doesn't ask me if I need any help. It's not very intellectual to say I'm just looking for a 'big book'.
They do have amazing staff in our local Waterstones. One wonderful lady found a book for me when all I could remember was the picture on the front cover. Perhaps I could ask for advice: 'Excuse me, I'm after a really good book - about anything, by anyone. About a thousand pages?' It's worth a try...
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