And books, and books, and books. Our house is full of them. We eat and sleep surrounded by them. They spill out of the shelves, pile in untidy columns on the floor, overflow baskets and cram into the space between the kitchen bookshelf and the counter.
Right now I am at various stages of reading about six books, three of which I’ll briefly mention here:
Started this one last night. I admit I bought it just ’cause I liked the title (instant appeal for a woman who majored in medieval studies and archaeology with a focus on Irish and Scandinavian cultures). It’s a good read; I can tell it’s going to get really sad in a few pages. How I love to fantasize about the good ol’ pagan days when wisewomen roamed the forests healing folk with crushed berries… though I know, and the narrator knows, that this idyll rarely if ever existed.
A light and fluffy, albeit entertaining, tome. Lots of advice on drawing the various sorts of (Euro-standard, anime-influenced) faeries. Enough to make me dig out the old HB pencils, perhaps… if I ever draw anything that doesn’t totally suck, maybe I’ll post it here.
Oh. My. God. A riveting, strangely hilarious memoir that reads like a novel… about a novelist driven mad by paranoid fantasies about his first published novel (Shiva 3000, which I’m going to buy as soon as I finish this one). Go Jan Go!
I apologize for the ugly non-aligned descriptions. It’s been about 3 years since I did anything with HTML and I’m way too lazy to go figure out how to top-align the images to the text… maybe tomorrow.