Books and other stuff

What are you reading at the moment? I’m reading less news and more fiction. I am currently engrossed in - and loving - Any Human Heart by William Boyd.

Before that I read The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak, which I did not love. I read it because when Karen (my aging hippie friend in California) recommended it, I was desperately casting around for something to read, and I ignored the fact that Karen likes to read difficult books about unhappy lives in far away countries. (In that, she is rather like my dear friend Mary, who would go to the cinema to watch a film about abortion in Romania.) I bought it on the strength of all the plaudits from other writers, and despite the fact that I hate magic realism. And I kept reading it because I had spent money on it - rather than having been lent it - and because the chapters which were not written by a fig tree (yes, OMG!) were interesting, and I knew nothing about Cyprus and its history and I thought I ought to know.

Back to Any Human Heart…it’s a fictional memoir. I realise that if I like the writer’s voice I always enjoy reading diaries. Thinking about this made me think of my first book, Plotting for Beginners, which was an easy way into writing fiction, as it was in the first person, and it was about someone a bit like me - same age, same aspirations. 

So lying in bed this morning, I was wondering if I could write a diary book now about someone my age - 76 - and decided it would not be so easy to make it entertaining, and now I am pondering why. Is it because life is harder when you’re older? Is it because the world is a darker place than it was 20 years ago? Is it because illness and infirmity stalk the halls, not necessarily of me but of friends and family? Is it because my joys are about simple things like a sunny bike ride, discovering a new quirky series on Netflix (Man Inside the House) our eldest grandson coming to spend the day with us, being sent a new video of 3 year old MsX, playing a video game with a granddaughter 5000 miles away, a shared joke after Quaker Meeting, a FaceTime with a dear friend, a sandwich lunch with Dave at our new favourite cafe. That list would no doubt be different if I’d written it in high summer. 

I don’t think it’s because of those reasons, I think it’s because I have changed. But I’m going to continue to think about it. In the meantime, here’s a poem by Mary Walker, a poet I just discovered.

And another poem I like even more…

I forgot another joy… trying on my beloved Biba dress that I bought 56 years ago and finding it still fits me.

Although, the bust darts are a bit high now (!) so I might need to buy a super, super uplift bra if I decide to wear it.

Ooh, ooh, thought of another joy…dreaming all night about Jude Law after watching a silly rom com with him in it.