Eating peanuts at the lap dance club

Things wind down during August, and if the weather starts getting cool, it feels as if summer is over, but the interesting events of early autumn haven’t begun. We three Goldenford girls met last week, but it was supposed to be a Guildford Writers meeting. No-one else came, though. They must all be on their hols, so we didn’t discuss writing at all, but just chatted about all the things we don’t normally have time to do. I had taken my latest bit of Innocent Bystanders where my hero goes investigating in a lap dance club. Perhaps I should call the book Eating peanuts at the lap dance club. At any rate, I’ll be saving it for our next meeting.

On Thursday, I had my hair trimmed and booked an appointment with the optician, too. The receptionist has read Tainted Tree and asked how I was getting on with the next book. At least I could say that I was making progress. She mentioned that she’s part of a reading circle and I said I’d be happy to give a talk or similar. I hope something will come of it. In the meantime, I’ve been reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society – which has to be one of the longest and most gimmicky titles in publication at the moment. Did they think of the title first, I wonder. It seems to me that sometimes it’s the quirky title that sells the book – Salmon Fishing … and Tractors in Ukrainian .. or whatever. On Thursday night was my reading circle night, where we discussed Guernsey, etc..

Like one of the reviewers, at the beginning of this book I was immediately reminded of 84, Charing Cross Road, particularly, when Juliet requests a particular book for Dawsey Adams and says – ‘a good plain copy’. That’s the sort of thing Helene Hanff used to say all the time to Mr Frank Doel of Charing X Road.

But this is fiction, so it doesn’t have to be authentic. Some of the long letters from these previously not very literate people seemed to be a bit unlikely. Nevertheless, it was a clever way to tell the story of the tribulations of the Channel Islanders during the war, with a love story at the same time.

People have described this as a gentle book – which it is. I felt it was a little too cute sometimes – particularly at the beginning when many of the characters seem to start with the letter ‘S’ – Sidney and Sophie Stark of Stevens & Stark, and Susan Scott, and then Gilly Gilbert, also. It was as if they were caricatures, rather than characters. In some of the letters too, they were very determinedly eccentric.

I also felt that the letter format detached me from any real drama. I wasn’t really carried away by the plight of Elizabeth, though I know I should have been. I never really felt I got to know her, in spite of descriptions showing her to be brave and altruistic.

I was a little concerned about the child, Kit. Did this child ever speak? (Was she traumatised? Perhaps I missed this.) All she seemed to do was pat people on the face. At four years old, my children never stopped talking.

However, despite this, I found it very readable – and easy to pick up and resume. Perhaps that was part of the problem. I did pick it up and then leave it several times.

I saw the orthoptist on Friday, and also the eye surgeon who carried out my operation earlier in the year. Both were very happy with the result of the op, as I am too.

Over the weekend, we went to Herefordshire to see the ProdigalD, spouse and two of my granddaughters – GD2 and GD4. We took GD4 a caterpillar which plays music when its nose is pressed. It drove us up the wall very quickly, particularly when GD2, who should know better at 9 years old, insisted on starting it up, when the baby wasn’t actually interested. GD4 is approaching her first birthday, and is very cute and cuddly.