I’ve had a few unfortunate experiences with books translated from other languages – particularly those written by Scandinavian crime writers. They’ve usually been more obscure authors and I know one in particular was on his third book in the series and using his third different translator. The words themselves can make or break a book and understandably someone who writes beautifully in one language may not translate as well into others.
I’m participating in NaNoWriMo as planned. And for the first time ever, I may well ‘win’ – which means I’ll reach the required 50,000 words during November. (I’m up to 39,951!)
Over 25 years ago one of my best friends accompanied me to a dentist appointment. She hoped to come in with me – which is less weird than it sounds as we’d travelled the hour from Brisbane to the Gold Coast to my uncle’s dentist surgery. From memory we had an early dinner with my aunt and uncle and all headed into his surgery one evening. I was working at the time so I suspect we were working around each other’s schedules.
Jack Fredrickson’s Silence the Dead is told in two distinct parts.
Jonah Ridy is a disgraced investigative journalist wallowing in the features section of the Chicago Sun Times newspaper when his editor requests he follow up a story. Ridy half-heartedly sets off to small town in Illinois where a man’s been shot and his date (the possible killer) has gone missing.
I’ve mentioned before that one of my favourite comfort movies is The Jane Austen Bookclub. I haven’t actually read the book on which it’s based but a few people advised the movie’s better (a rarity), so I’ve given the novel by Karen Joy Fowler a miss. (Of course I’m conscious that the book was revered enough to inspire the movie, so… who knows?!)
I haven’t read Candice Fox’s first book Hades, but I’ve heard a lot about it. I’ve confessed before that I rarely read Australian books – particularly crime fiction. I suspect it’s combination of things but predominantly because I read to ‘escape’ and would far prefer to be taken to the dark corners of London or alleys of New York City than the salubrious streets of down-town Brisbane (for example!).
I cannot remember the last time I exercised. It’s been a month or two since I’ve done any yoga and walking any distance has resulted in shin splints and a sore back and hip. I know they’re just excuses and I’ve tried to tell myself a 5min walk is better than nothing, but I’ve struggled to convince myself.
I know that losing even a little bit of weight will help me feel more able to exercise but the food / exercise / dieting thing is a tangled mess in my mind. A few weeks ago I talked about trying to focus more on how I feel. Well, quite frankly I feel friggin’ unfit and unhealthy.