Okay, technically the title of this post is not exactly true, since Louise Penny has no idea who I am and we’ve never actually met. Still, her Inspector Gamache series is definitely responsible for the variety in my recent reading selections.
The series, which I may have mentioned over the past few months that I’ve read a time or two (or more), features an inspector, with (among other things) a fondness for books. He can periodically be found perusing the shelves at the local bookstore, selecting a slim volume of something, and settling down for a bit of a read. Not all of the books mentioned actually exist, but some of them do.
Naturally, curiosity prompted me to check a few of them out.
As I mentioned a while back in my Poetry and Prose post, Penny is a big fan of poetry and has incorporated bits and pieces in her stories. Margaret Atwood, Mike Freeman, and Ralph Hodgson are among the poets she’s mentioned in her author notes. During a recent visit to the local bookstore, I picked up Atwood’s, Morning in the Burned House, which is a source for some of the poetry for one of Penny’s characters, the drunk demented old poet Ruth. I spent an enjoyable afternoon reading through it, especially delighted when I found the bits and pieces that Penny had incorporated in her stories. Continue reading
I have been craving chocolate dipped blueberries for weeks.
On the bookshelf in my home office there is a handmade book from my angsty teenaged poem writing days, when I was apparently not a fan of rhyming. Many of them were Really Bad Poems. Some of them though, were rather sweet, with thoughts of life and love directed at long-forgotten (or more likely fictional) recipients. Often, they were written using the image from a greeting card for inspiration and painstakingly typed on an old manual typewriter. Talk about angst.
It seems people are constantly giving me book and author recommendations – friends, magazines, random people on the internet – they are all responsible for the truly staggering depth and breadth of my TBR pile. Some of my more persistent friends have recommended particular authors many times, sure that I would enjoy them immensely, yet I’ve never quite gotten around of them.
It’s probably no surprise to anyone, but I’m a big fan of words. When writing, I love it when I find just the right one, with just the right nuanced meaning to get an idea across. I like words that are slightly old fashioned or not commonly used; words that are whimsical; and words that are evocative. I’d give you some examples but naturally, all the words in my head went into hiding as soon as I tried to find them.
I have been a fan of mysteries since Nancy Drew found that old clock and the Hardy Boys uncovered that treasure in the tower. Nancy, Ned, Frank, and Joe led to Beverly Gray, The Dana Girls, Ginny Gordon, and my favorite – Judy Bolton. I collected the books at garage sales, flea markets, and the like, and many of the editions were from the early 1930s (and smelled like it too), with beautiful old dust jackets and the original story-lines. I don’t think there were any murders, but many of the stories were dark and a little edgy.
Eight Ladies Writing 
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