Last night was an interesting and entertaining affair. I, along with EF, attended the Word of Mouth event at the Thunderbolt pub. It is a regular event but last night was of particular interest as the ineffable Emma Newman and industrious Joanne Hall were both reading from their short story collections and extracts from their forthcoming novels. There is always something about listening to an author read from their own works, imbuing their words with another layer of evocation and empathy. It is one of the best bits of BristolCon (amongst many) for me - listening to authors reading their stories in relatively intimate surrounds.
*sorry, got distracted there and went and bought my ticket for said BristolCon*
Last year was a washout for me, in that my mother died the evening before BristolCon (I didn't find out until my brother rang me whilst in the first session). I had been looking forward to it so much that I felt utterly and bizarrely conflicted. Part of me wanted to escape into the day, just to immerse myself in the event without having to think or feel too much. The other, more pressing, brotherly part just wanted to get down to Waterlooville to be there for my brother, who had had the misfortune of discovering her body that morning (and had left several frantic messages on my silenced mobile phone).
A bad day, all round. So... none of you buggers have permission to die on or around the 26th of October, partly because it is BristolCon day and partly because dying really is a bit shit and I'd rather you didn't, generally.
On a lighter note, after that slight segue, Emma Newman is launching her new book, Between Two Thorns, this evening at the Forbidden Planet shop on the Triangle in Bristol, at 6pm. It will be glorious. If you get a chance to go, please do so.
A segue on Reading Books.
I have done very little of this over the last few weeks, mainly due to the ridiculous workload I have had, which has pretty much drained me of all energy for anything. Ah well, back on the wagon soon enough, too many good books to read.
A segue on Writing.
Interestingly, I have been writing, and enjoying it. I am working myself back into completing one of the novels I have started, and I have a Plan, which is always good. Many thanks to the effervescent Nik Perring for the reinvigoration. The man's writing is a joy (as is he) - go and read his stuff.
Now, before I get stroppy.
A segue on Age.
My little brother was 37 on Monday. Thirty-seven. Thirty. Seven.