I am, at a guess, thirty books or so behind. It's so much it isn't even funny. I should just write the title and the author in a post, and leave it at that, instead of saving it and thinking I'll catch up - how can I? I also have a few on the draft list actually, so maybe it's more like forty. I honestly find this very depressing. I have no internet persona at all these days, apart from a Facebook account. And let's face it (hardehar), no internet persona is more boring than the Facebook persona. It's not cool at all.
My husband told me once that I moaned too much on my blog about how bad it was and how I never had time to blog. Well let's face that too - he's right, yet the heart must say what the heart is full of to paraphrase a Swedish saying. Where the bloody hell else am I to give out about this? I've been really grumpy these past few days and snapped today with Maxima, telling her how I never got any computer time at home and she lost patience with me and said I should stop being such a martyr and just ask instead. But I don't want to have to ask. Feels like I have to ask to do everything, I can't just do stuff. Need to sort this out.
Right, Livejournal part over. Good Friday today. Mr Bani is watching the Scorsese film, The Last Temptation of Christ. Minima is sitting in the armchair next to him with headphones in her ears. Watching but not listening, I suppose. I have not given up the internet for Good Friday. I can't find the post where I did.
The last three books I read where three paperbacks I picked up in Myrornas, where you can still on occasion find second-hand paperbacks at a decent price (which means no more than ten crowns, thankyouverymuch. Fecking Stadsmissionen think they can get away with thirty. I'm all for charity, but I'm not buying Lee Child for more than ten crowns.) So one of them was a Lee Child, one was a Charlaine Harris, and one - oh joy! was an Ellis Peters.
Lee Child: Killing Floor
First one in the series. Introduces Reacher. Quite exciting. I think I've said all there is to say about the Reacher novels really, it's just a matter of reading them, isn't it.
Charlaine Harris: Definitely Dead
This is the one where Sookie finds out that Bill was ordered to seduce her, she dates the tiger-man, she cleans out her cousin's flat in New Orleans, she is witness to the battle between the vampire royal spouses.
Ellis Peters: Holiday With Violence
There is something so comforting about Ellis Peters. This wide-eyed joy at the beauty of the world, this ability to see the innocence in youth. (I've been reading several old novels this winter, and am struck by how young people are boys and girls for longer than they are now. Even when they are in their early twenties. More on that later I think, but it's very interesting how a society that expected children to work, even support families, nevertheless saw them as some sort of innocents. This doesn't square with modern ways of thinking it doesn't.)
This one is from 1952, and is about four English youngsters back-packing around Italy for the summer. On the train they meet a kind old man who is later found assaulted and robbed, and accidentally the four kids have wandered off with something the attackers want. It ends up a sort of stand-off between one of the girls and the Main Villain, and has a sort of first-sexual-awakening theme. In a very low-key Ellis Peters way. I liked it, I always like Ellis Peters.
That's all for now. I've ranted and written. Let's see if there is I can get a few more posts in this Easter weekend... one can hope.