Bike-ride reading

We acquired an exercise bike at the start of lockdown and I have been on it every day since. My slot (in our household of three) is first thing in the morning – I chose that time so I would just wake up and, er, get on my bike without giving myself any chance to talk myself out of it.

I used to love cycling when I was a child but that’s once upon a time now …

After a perfunctory start, where I didn’t even check the distance, I got competitive with myself and now do between 8km and 15km every morning. On one day a week I go for a personal best, currently 25km (that’s just over 15 miles in real money, I'd have you know). No pictures, thankfully, of my perspiring red face …

While I cycle, I listen on earphones to Radio 4’s A Good Read on catch-up. There are fifty-five Internet pages of past programmes, dating back to the late 80s. If you have never heard it (the latest series is on at the moment, 4.30 on Tuesday afternoons) – a host and two guests each share a book that they’ve enjoyed, either fiction or non-fiction. There have been various hosts but the one who has made the programme her own, Harriett Gilbert, is I think, much the best.

I am whizzing through them – 25km is three programmes’ worth.

Some of the books discussed could in no way be described as ‘a good read’, in the can’t-put-down, entertaining sense of the word, but they are nevertheless interesting and informative; some guests blatantly choose titles they have contributed to in some way or have been written by a pal; and one or two (no names) were quite rude, talking loudly over the others. 

Although some guests’ choices are in some way predictable, others are surprising. I have silent arguments when a book I love is not appreciated by everyone.

So I am well distracted while turning those pedals and mopping my brow.

But now, of course, I have added to the already tottering wish list of books I would like to read, viz:

A Month in the Country  J. L. Carr

Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady  Florence King

Crooked Heart  Lissa Evan

Dirt Music  Tim Winton

Dissolution   C. J. Sansom

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes  Anita Loos

Invisible Cities  Italo Calvino

Leadville by Edward Platt

Out Stealing Horses  Per Petterson

Remembering Babylon  David Malouf

Slow Horses  Mick Herron

Love and Summer  William Trevor

The Spire  William Golding

The Wicked Chamber  Angela Carter

This is Shakespeare  Emma Smith

To Esme with Love and Squalor  J. D. Salinger

Towards the End of the Morning  Michael Frayn

What would you choose if you were asked to be on the programme?

I feel inspired to take up actual cycling when lockdown is over. 

Who knows where 25km will get me to?

Jinty's Farm

An everyday story of farming and gin-making.

Jinty’s Farm is my fourth People’s Friend serial, now available for pre-order an e-book; publication date 26 June.

I’ve written a farming serial before. A Time to Reap was set in 1963; this one is contemporary, set in the Kingdom of Fife on Scotland’s east coast.

These days, farmers have to diversify as never before to make ends meet. That could mean having paying guests, cheese-making, opening farm shops, making crisps or preserves or ready-meals. Or, as in my story, making gin.

I did enjoy finding out about gin-making … I read articles about various craft gin makers and how they come up with ideas for making their product stand out. I read about the process for making gin and I visited a couple of distilleries; and I had the occasional glass – in the interests of research of course.

There’s another aspect to the story which I liked researching too – the deployment of Polish soldiers to work on farms in Scotland during the Second World War.

I remember a Fife minster, some years ago now, telling me that when he visited elderly ladies in his parish they always talked about that time with a definite twinkle in the eye … the innate good manners as well as the good looks of the soldiers had left a lasting impression.

That inspired me to include one such soldier – whose existence is known about from the farm diary and the entries by Jinty, late grandmother of the present generation.

So, farming and gin-making – plus arguments and accidents, romances and break-ups, and family history echoing through the ages. It's all happening down on Jinty's Farm.

My previous three serials are now available as a (Kindle) boxset.

Thirteen in May (2)

I read thirteen books in May; these three and others which you can read about here.

The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary

I think this rom com did live up to most of the plaudits it’s garnered although I have a gripe about the pointlessly distracting names of some of the characters– Katherin spelt unusually thus without an e at the end, a contemporary young woman called Gertie (Gertrude), men called Mo and Sal. We never even meet Sal, he’s referred to but is offstage so I can’t see the point of calling attention to him in this way. The minute you begin wondering what Sal’s full name is likely to be then you’re out of the story.

I had the same issue, to a much greater degree, with Marian Keyes’ book The Break.

Having got that off my chest, the plot: Tiffy shares a flat, and a bed, with Liam but they have never met – he works nights in a hospice and she’s an editor in a publishing office. She needs somewhere to live and fast and he could do with the extra income, for a reason which becomes clear, so the arrangement suits them both.

They get to know each other at first by leaving notes for each other (phew! Thank goodness for Post-Its – see Adventures in Stationery, below).

A fun escapist read with unexpected depths.

Nelly Dean by Alison Case

This was a present from a friend in 2015 after we had seen the author at the Edinburgh Book Festival. In this case (unlike Before Green Gables, see previous post) I hadn’t delayed reading it because I didn’t want anyone other than Emily Bronte roaming Wuthering Heights – I’d decided that I would need to reacquaint myself with WH first before embarking on this book in which housekeeper Nelly fills in gaps in the original.

And with lockdown came the time to do that. I didn’t actually read the book again but listened to an abridged version on tape (yes, tape, narrated by Hannah Gordon).

I don’t think this new book would make sense if you’d never read Wuthering Heights. It uses the same device as the original in framing Nelly’s narrative as a letter and here she says things like ‘As you’ll recall’ and ‘you will remember’. Or I suppose you could read this first and use WH to ‘fill in the gaps’.

I liked Alison Case’s writing a lot as indeed I like Emily Bronte’s but I’d forgotten quite what a grim and claustrophobic world EB created.

Even after reading this more personal story of Nelly Dean I find it difficult to understand (if you think of her as a real person) why she would love the members of the over-wrought and violent household at Wuthering Heights and wouldn’t leave when she had the chance.

Adventures in Stationery: A Journey Through Your Pencil Case by James Ward

Bought in a charity shop. I have been dipping into this over several months – not just a journey through your pencil case but a history of the whole stationery cupboard, from the revolving desk tidy and staplers by way of highlighters and Post-Its (or Press ’n Peel Notes as they were originally called; invented first and found a use for later).

I found it comforting to be told that despite computers and other gadgets actual stationery isn’t going anywhere.

And – why hadn't I twigged to this before? – traditional symbols are used in digital devices: a ‘pen’ for composing a new text, a magnifying glass meaning ‘search’ and a paperclip for sending an attachment. While they are in the virtual world people are reassured by these physical reminders apparently.

The book is a lovely object in itself and has these gorgeous endpapers (the illustration forms the cover of the paperback edition):

 

There’s a lot of detail (be warned that the author has a blog called I Like Boring Things, although I see it has not been updated for a year or so) and I admit my eyes did glaze over sometimes. But as someone with more notebooks than I’m ever likely to use, with a serious pencil-buying habit, and as the proud owner of a Ranger 55 table-top sharpener which I wrote about here I was very happy to follow James Ward on a journey through my pencil case.

May all your pencils be sharp ones.

Thirteen in May (1)

I read thirteen books in May; I’ll tell you about them in two blog posts.

Diary of a Somebody by Brian Bilston

Like very many people I enjoy Brian Bilston’s way with words. The ‘Banksy of poetry’ and ‘Twitter’s unofficial poet laureate’ nails current topics on the head in clever and witty ways that you wish you’d thought of first.

Diary of a Somebody is allegedly his diary but I think we can take that with a large cellar of salt.

To quote from the blurb:

Part tender love story, part murder mystery, part coruscating description of a wasted life, and interspersed with some of the funniest poems about the mundane and the profound, Diary of a Somebody is a unique, original and hilarious novel.

I whizzed through it, loved it; this will be one to reread.

The Visitor by Lee Child

The fourth Jack Reacher book. ‘The visitor’ is Jack Reacher himself when he helps a couple of government agencies to solve the gruesome murders of two former female army high-flyers who had both been acquainted in the past with our hero.

Her Mother’s Secret: The Summer of ‘69 by Jan Baynham

Isn’t that a fab (as we used to say in the 60s) cover?

Dual timeline, set on the Greek island of Péfka. The earlier story is about Elin when she attends a summer art school there and, later, Elin’s daughter Alexandra follows in her mother’s footsteps and learns much about Elin that she never knew. Great premise and great sense of place – I’ve never been to Greece but enjoyed my virtual stay in Péfka.

Before Green Gables by Budge Wilson

This was produced in 2008 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the publication of the story of fiction’s most loved redhead.

I’ve had it on my shelf for about ten years and finally plucked up the courage to read it – if that isn’t too strong a statement. L M Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables and its sequels have for so (sooo) long been among my very favourite books that I resented the thought of someone else writing her story.

We know from the Anne books that she was orphaned as a baby and subsequently brought up in two foster homes where she was treated with rough kindness but also as an unpaid and overworked skivvy before being taken to an orphanage from where she was adopted (by mistake; they’d asked for a boy) by siblings Matthew and Marilla. 

If you have never read or owned a copy of Anne of Green Gables there are dozens of editions to choose from, some with very unappealing covers, and others which look lovely, like this one: 

 

I thought Before Green Gables was unnecessarily long and I wasn’t massively taken with Budge Wilson’s writing. Through her eyes Anne appears to look like a ragdoll or a cartoon character – her large eyes and ‘long skinny legs’ being mentioned rather too frequently. We know from LM’s books that Anne is precocious and a chatterbox but here she is attributed speeches (speeches I tell you) from the age of seventeen months that are frankly implausible.

But there were some terrific characters, not least Anne’s delightful and tragic young parents, and many things are ‘explained’, such as Anne’s love of big words, her appreciation of natural beauty and her longing for a best friend, a kindred spirit.

At the end of the book we leave her at Bright River station, Prince Edward Island, waiting for Matthew Cuthbert to arrive. Anne of Green Gables begins with that scene so of course I had to read it again and one thing led to another and another and …

At the beginning of this year my sister and I planned (but luckily had not booked) a holiday in Canada this autumn, including a visit to Prince Edward Island which I have been longing to see for more than fifty years. Well, we all know how holiday plans in 2020 have turned out … 

Maybe in the next year or two (or three) it will be possible but, if not, then thank goodness for the imagination which can travel even when the body is in lockdown. A sentiment I'm sure Anne Shirley would approve of.