it's been ages since we've played this game! here's what i'm reading right now (just read/am about to read):
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk56Gokv1IuFHr85MJvFJt03fWILzsPXHJu4HQG1b57K5_BeIixiOOhyphenhyphen6V5aKWCtgsdNozcGjyN_CJLTaGARkm1QpIomLZfUErJt6tuSGUOMwKhZ4ZhhwfYt7U4eEB-iIk1XGX/s400/reading.jpg)
from the top!
that's
once upon a time in the north, philip pullman's new one. i actually bought this for miram (she's a fan), but then she lent it to me to read on the train. it's about how lee scoresby and iorek meet, back in the day. it's very short but very cool and has a board game in the back cover.
the green mill murder is an early phryne fisher novel, one of my favourites. kerry greenwood rocks my world! it's a detective novel set in 1920's melbourne. in this one phryne flies a plane into the snowy mountains. v.g.
the little stripey book is
eloise a paris, which i picked up last time i was at the musee d'orsay. . . i'm trying to read it, but it's slow going, and i have to keep ringing miriam for help. (she speaks french real good.) it has a high "i've been there!" quotient.
then there's
nick and norah's infinite playlist by rachel cohn and david levithan. everybody on my elist is gaga about this book, but i only read it for the first time last week (i'm reading it again now). it is totally cool. go, read! be gaga! if nothing else, there's great kissing scenes!
then some jasper fforde novels. i read the first one last week (
the eyre affair), and am waiting for the library to deliver the second and third before i can read
something rotten, the hardback sitting in the stack there. they're odd novels about literary detective types, with lots of bronte in-jokes. try them, but be warned: the writing starts bad and gets better. hang in there.
funny story: i actually own an uncorrected proof of
the eyre affair which tine bought from a second hand bookshop in newcastle. every single "it's/its" is wrong.
also good story: those two books are in pristine condition - they come pre-aged. see the tattered edges? printed onto the cover.
the stripey book near the bottom is peter carey's
my life as a fake, which i've never read before. (oh the shame!) i just started it yesterday, and it's promising, though icky, like all carey's stuff. i don't like the cover of this nrth american edition. i remember buying the hardback for bbb's
birthday when it first came out. i got it at the sun bookshop in yarraville, and it was beautiful, all textured. i'm reading it now to get more ausn culture. i have
oscar and lucinda on order from the library.
then is
gardening for the faint of heart, which is one of my favourite books atm. it's written by robin wheeler, who lives in bc, up the coast a bit, so the information is very local, and useful for someone from, say, a different hemisphere. it's very practical and irreverent info, and also very funny. this one of my favourite bits:
"It may surprise you to find "bears" listed
after "slugs" in the pest section, but heck, bears aren't such a constant hazard for the garden. They're more seasonal, more regional, and can't hide in the pansies as well. You will never find a bear stuck to the bottom of your shoe."
she also has chapters called "why the heck should i garden?" and "read me when you're down", both of which i've had recourse to recently; my cucumber seedlings keeled over for no reason and my bean shoots got mauled by slugs.
the fat book on the bottom is also about gardening, but it's not funny at all. it's more of an encyclopedia, so i do things like look up "c" for "cucumber" and see if they wanted less water or more light or what.
the last book is the picturebook on the right hand side. it's
a promise is a promise, by robert munsch and michael kusugak. munsch is hugely popular in canada (he lives in ontario). you'd know him as one of the authors of
the paperbag princess. the book is a story based on inuit myth. the beautiful illustrations are by vladyana kryorka.
that's the lot, though i still have lots of stuff in my "to read" pile. okay, piles. actually piled on my floor. it's called `scholarly squalor'.
you'll notice a distinct lack of theory there (or perhaps you won't. is it only me who's always reading theory? do we have any academics in the audience?). it's kind of a nice break, though i'm worried my vocabulary will atrophy. bring on september, people!