I read The Gracekeepers, and loved it. There are a couple of things in it that might ordinarily annoy me about a book, but I still loved it. It was beautifully written and the characters were so real to me, even in their strange fantasy world, that I couldn't put it down. And books like that cause the age-old problem of what to read next, because surely nothing could compare? Well, a friend recommended The Vagenda by Holly Baxter and Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett, which seemed like it would be sufficiently different for comparison to not be an issue - it's non-fiction, for starters. And I loved that as well, for entirely different reasons, but mostly because it was smart, and funny, and true. More people should read it, men and women alike.
So then, what next? Well, the podcasts I've been listening to on my way to and from work (Books on the Nightstand, Adventures with Words, both interesting and highly listenable) have been discussing the books shortlisted for the Baileys Prize (eventually won by Ali Smith) and some of them sounded vaguely readable (I have a bit of a lingering prejudice against "Booker" books, the ones awarded things by panels of literary types). Armed with the Kindle free sample option, I waded in, beginning with The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters. I expected not to like it. In fact, I expected to dislike it. I downloaded a book I really wanted to read (I Saw A Man by Owen Sheers) for when I'd read enough of the free sample to really hate it. And then, unexpectedly, I loved it. So Owen Sheers is going to have to wait a while, because Sarah Waters has put a group of flawed, interesting, contrasting characters in a house, and something is clearly going to happen between them, and I need to know what that something is!
In other news, the little tiny fox feet have reached the mythical stage of finishability. Exactly when this stage occurs varies between patterns, and I think it happens in books as well - that moment when something that was pootling along quite happily suddenly becomes something that has an end. It might be an end you've been looking forward to, or one you dread, but there comes a point when it's there, visible, real. I have 4 pattern repeats left. I'll miss knitting it, but wearing it is a whole new thing to look forward to.
