Beautiful Beloved Books

Are you an ebook addict? 

I can safely say I am. 

I'm on hiatus at the moment, but the minute it ends I have a list of desperately desired books. I could go to the library. True. But the newly released books (cruelly a big shiny pile of them released this month at the very same time as NaNoWriMo - the universe conspires against me) will have a zillion holds on them even if they do have a copy. And we don't really have the space to keep our own copies yet.

But I've been reading a lot of things about ebooks recently, and pondering as I desperately click 'buy now' in the wee hours of the morning.

And despite my love of the tactile book, of the scent of books, of the look and feel of old book, and the comfort of having them around, I still love ebooks. 

And I still think that however much I and my ilk enjoy ebooks, actual -hold-in-your-hand books will always be around. 

People will always want beautiful, funny, funky, gripping paper books for kids. (Or books they weakly claim are for kids. I was buying books 'for my kids' ten years before I had any...) Kids need books around the house, ones they can just pick up and browse through, look at the pictures, make up stories. While I groan when I see the kids use my books to make towers or dens, I also tell myself that easy familiarity is a good thing.  Homes have books in them. 

And as ebooks become more common I think we'll begin to see paper books become more beautiful again. The books we buy in paper form will be works of art, true keepers to pass on for generations. 

I feel so lucky to be the recipient of books my mum, my gran, my great aunts read as children. Beautiful books, carefully crafted. And there are books being created today that are also works of art. And I suspect we'll see more of them, both for adults and children. 

Isobel Carmody's Little Fur series, with its wonderfully tactile cover and whimsical illustrations, Scott Westerfelds Leviathan trilogy with its fascinating illustrations spring to mind.
I was looking at some of my beloved books last night (the ones the kids can't build towers with and are kept - hopefully - out of reach) and came across a copy of Cinderella that one of my Great Aunts won at school, way back in 1921. As I'm in the process of retelling a fairytale at present, I took it off the shelf to have a look at the penultimate fairytale (although not a favourite) and was once again enchanted. As I'm hopeful that, being so old, it's out of copyright I'll share some of the images here. We've kept this book for nearly a hundred years. I'm hoping my kids and their kids and their kids will also keep it, as well as all the ones that I collect and they collect.
Because as much as I love ebooks, books make magic, and paper books make a home.

Favourite Summer Delight of Deliciousness?

Summer is almost upon us and the weather seems to finally agree. With a balmy blue-sky-day redolent with the scent of roses and a-buzz with bees, my Beloved raided the freezer and blended up a frozen-berry delight. As you can see, it was appreciated by all!

Do you have a favourite Summer Delight of Deliciousness? 

Happiness is...

Happiness is (at least this morning!) a desk all of my own.
I am once again a serious-writer-person-with-a-dedicated-work-space. Procrastination is obviously a thing of the past as I will now sit and write industriously at my very-serious-desk.
Of course, I always had my desk, a solid old roll-top that once belonged to my Great Grandfather, but it was out in the garden-room being inhabited by a large family of mice. I could have used it. But the garden-room is cold and draughty with cracked concrete floors and a big gaping empty door to the garden, through which all the snails and winds trail.
Instead of braving the elements I've been writing in bed or curled on the couch (particularly nice if we have the open fire blazing.) Which has been comfy and cosy, but doesn't really suggest dedication.
My Beloved had his last exam of the year on Thursday (touch wood!) and on Friday we completely rearranged our bedroom, emptied and disinfected my desk, and hauled it inside for pride of place in our bedroom. It is tucked in a sweet corner nook with not one but two windows and every time I look at it I get happy little shivers.
I have dressed my desk with my favourite roses (which I have previously refrained from cutting,) one of my beloved Solomon Islands Carvings that was a monthiversary present from when my Beloved and I were first going out in the Solomon Islands, and a piece of my favourite twisted silver wood from a magical Summer on the Scottish island of Iona many, many years ago.
I'm willing to bet my desk will never look as tidy again. So I took a heap of photos as proof. I too, once had a tidy desk...
Happiness is a desk of my Own.
Happiness if knowing the first thing my Beloved did on finishing up his studies for the year was help me bring my desk inside, to say, yes, this is important.

Do you have a special place for following your dreams?

Today I'm joining with 52-Weeks-of-Grateful to be grateful for dreams and for the people who believe in us and help us achieve them. And of course, my wonderful new inside-desk!

Confluence of Frogs (and Mud)

I love it when what I want to do and what the kids want to do collides in happy confluence.
In this instance we all wanted to go and look for frogs and froggy places. My Sprocket because he loves frogs and toads, believing them to be beautiful and his dearest friends, and myself as I am intent on soaking up the atmosphere of green mossy places for research for my Work-In-Progress - The Toad Lord.
Walking with my kids also has the benefit of introducing me to things I might otherwise forego. Searching for a beloved, and miniature, lost toy in a mud puddle (which is where we actually spent most of our time: take the kids to a national park and they spend most of the time paddling in... you got it, one little mud puddle). I felt the almost decadent smoothness of the mud. Silky. Sliding. Studded with the roughness of rocks. I'm unsure I would have done that on my own.
My eyes are keener as I walk with the kids, searching for things to interest them - a flitting bird, movement that might betray an echidna or wallaby, the red of a rosella on a distant, burnt stump. The kids walk slowly and will stop for minutes to observe an ant, a slug, a misshaped leaf.
O happy (muddy!) confluence!

Robert Burns. Sigh. Paolo Nutini. Double Sigh.

This is an acquired taste. I accept that.
Deep into writing-a-novel-in-a-month I'm starting to accept my blog is going to suffer.
So here's just a snippet of where I'm going for inspiration
I'm trying to channel the great Scottish Poet Robert Burns, having set my fantasy novel, The Toad Lord in 1801, just after his death and when memories of him where still strong.
I love this rendition of 'A Man's A Man for A' that' - brilliantly done by Paolo Nutini. (Despite his name he's a 3rd generation Scot) I think Burns would approve.
I'm still waiting for it to turn up on itunes so I can get a copy though. Let me know if you come across it.