Happiness Is

source

Imaginary Girls

A new book is winging its way to me - Nova Ren Suma's Imaginary Girls. Read an extract here and resign yourself to a week of stalking the post man.

Days Like This

 I have a few sure-fire solutions for those days when you just want to lie in bed and stare at the wall. You know, those days where you live in Ireland where each grey, listless day is followed by another, the radio spouts constant negativity and people walk the streets staring at the ground because to see how you feel reflected in the eyes of another is JUST TOO DAMN MUCH. It seems to me that the whole country is suffering from a dose of S.A.D. (which is the stupidest abbreviation ever by the way). Anyhow, today is undoubtedly one of those days and since I'm feeling particularly listy at the moment I thought that I would share my go-to solutions.

My granny. Look at how cute and co-ordinated she is!!! Nobody loves me like my granny. Well, I should revise that and say that noone believes in me like my Granny. Any time I spend time with her is filled with laughter, tea, cake, mysterious family secrets and great chats about brilliant books. It also heavily features classic episodes of Cash In The Attic and The Antiques Road Show.

Tea in a china cup.

My favourite childhood books- A Secret Garden, anything by Eva Ibbotson, Harry Potter and of course for when the shit really hits the fan, Anne of Green Gables. I can escape into an old, loved book in a way that I just can't with a new read when things are awful. Dive into the middle and once again you're a seven year old hiding behind the curtains reading in the dim morning light to avoid being caught up so early.

Dogs. I wish that we could have a dog where we live but unfortunately we can't as we're renting and bla bla bla. Anyone from a dog family knows the quiet assurance of a dog laying his head on your lap when you feel low. 

Old episodes of Sabrina (I know, bizarre and embarrassing right?).

On The Doss!

This morning I've been bewitched by the trailer for Anna Karenina.
Doesn't it look great?
The book is languishing upstairs, jammed between a kajillion paperbacks. I am sorely tempted to rescue it from its dusty abode and curl up with tea. The problem being that I lack any semblance of self-control when confronted with some books. And this is one of them. I cannot read just a couple of pages. It's all-consuming. And I can't afford to be all-consumed by anything other than Penney and her escapades at the moment. 

Is there anything more attractive than forbidden reading though? Jo Knowles, who I stumbled across this morning says

If you want to be a writer, I suggest you try to read a book a week, too. Reading makes us better writers. I’m a firm believer in that.

I think I may just take her advice!