There are new pamphlet reviews on the website! This has been slower than usual because of the rampage of publications going on in this little corner of the world and because of me fighting with the Inspiron machine (which has empowered, but not inspired me). And there will be more soon. It would be nice if I had had review copies from Faber's new pamphlet imprint. Needless to say, none have arrived here . . .
I just read Colin Beavan's book No Impact Man. Saving the Planet One Family at a Time.
I also just lost this entry because I had forgotten the notebook wasn't plugged in, so it ran out of power just as I got to the end and ARRRGGGGHHH!!!
You think it won't get you but it does. It does.
I remember an occasion when my son was eight years old. He was so enraged with his Sega that he shrieked and hurled it across the room. It crashed into his father's hi-fi.
I didn't think it was funny until after she'd gone away. But then I realised I'd handed her forty thieves in a box. I should have put them in a big jar, like Ali Baba. I have a jar. . . .
The thieves were for the London launch of The Thief, which is at seven pm on Monday 25th October in the second floor suite of the Old Crown in new Oxford Street. The Old Crown doesn't have a sign outside showing its name, but it is the pub on the corner of New Oxford Street and Museum Street, about halfway between Tottenham Court Road and Holborn tubes. If you think you can go along (please do), email me on nell@happenstancepress.com and I'll let her know. That's if I manage to get this blog post to appear. . .
The switch finally happened -- from old website to new one. An email shot went out to hundreds of people to announce this. Then, as requested, masses of you registered with the site so you could use the shop and comment on this blog.
Then we realised there was a snag. It was not enough just to register. People needed to get to the point of sale (because this is when full details are saved in the database) for us to be able to apply the subscriber discount (and lots of you are subscribers).
Last week I confessed I'd fallen behind schedule. Not too far. Just a wee slip and slither. However, I fell further this week, mutter, mutter.
The megrim arrived, and grimmer than usual. I love the word 'megrim'. Old word for migraine but also, I learn, describes a whim or caprice. And . . . er . . . 'megrim' is also a species of turbot. Edible.