Home again...

...and I am certain that in the time we were away, the assortment of papers, books, pens, notes, reference material and general crapola on my desk got into the whole spring, new life thing and bred mightily. Because, I swear, there wasn't this much crud on it when I left. And some of it seems to have attempted an escape by diving off onto the floor where it's formed a sort of a paper pond, complete with ripples emanating out from a central splash of trash.

Sigh.

A Breath of Snow and Ashes

Greetings from Wanaka, where I was amazed to wake up to find it was snowing this morning! This departure from Spring weather was very, very pretty, if a little chilly and it enhanced the feeling that yes, we're away for a few days holiday.

It was also appropriate that it was snowing when I was reading a book called A Breath of Snow and Ashes, by Diana Gabaldon. I am a fan of her writing, and have read all of her Outlander (or Cross Stitch, depending on where you live) series books. I have had this one a while and had started it, but due to life, had to put it aside for a while. The while turned out to be a few years. Anyway, the impetus to finish it is a looming radio interview with the author early in November. So I need to finish this book, and also read her latest title, An Echo in the Bone. If you have seen these books - they are large, and long - the one I am reading is 980 pages. I can't think of a better way of enjoying my holiday time than luxuriating in the world of Claire and Jamie Fraser for a decent stretch of uninterrupted reading time.

I do have the family with me of course, but have chosen to neglect them in favour of my book - priorities!

Predator

Mr Seven-Year-Old likes playing with words.

We were talking about mentoring, as I have been mentoring a creative writing student. He asked what a mentor did, and I explained about encouraging and looking over their work and doing some editing on it and giving my opinion and offering them support.

So he says, "you edit the work before it is finished?"

"Well, yes, in a way," I say.

"So you're like a pre-editor?" he says.

"Well, I suppose I am."

Then he starts giggling. "Mummy, that makes you a predator."

All the Colours of the Town, launched.

Tonight I attended a merry gathering of folk at the University Staff Club to launch Liam McIlvanney's All the Colours of the Town. This was the New Zealand launch, as Liam had launched it at the Edinburgh Festival earlier. Dunedin threw in some Scottish weather to emulate it's northern cousin, just to put the author at ease. Dunedin is thoughtful like that.

Liam is the Stuart Chair at the University of Otago, so was well supported by the staff of the English Department and University, as well as friends. He is a recent arrival to Dunedin from Scotland, so I had the double pleasure of hearing him read from his work, and read with his very Scottish accent. My boys (who are often dragged along to these affairs and thus well versed in book launch nibbles and gentle conversation) commented that he was a little interesting to understand.

All the Colours of the Town is a crime novel set in Glasgow and Belfast. I am told Liam is going to set his next novel in Dunedin. We might have to rope in Paddy Richardson and form a Dunedin Crime Writers Club - a good excuse for wine and lots of chatting to ward of the Dunedin chill.

And then there was one...

...left to acquire.

I've been steadily working away acquiring all of Ngaio Marsh's novels. This particular treasure hunt has been great fun and a good excuse to spend far too much time in second hand book shops and trolling Trade Me. I have endeavoured to stick to just shopping for Ngaio books in said establishments, but as you well know, the flesh is weak.


A large part of the fun of the book hunt has been seeing the variety in cover art. I have a great fondness for intriguing cover art which has resulted in me buying different editions of the same books just for the covers. My recent purchases are vastly different in style, from the 1964 Dead Water hardback, to the 1983 edition of Death at the Bar. I actually prefer the older edition books, particularly the almost psychedelic covers of the 1970's, such as Artists in Crime.


But alas, my excuses for shopping are almost at an end, for I have only one book remaining to hunt down - A Surfeit of Lampreys.

Happy hunting Vanda...

I live to duel another day...

I am pleased to announce I acquitted myself well in the public arena, bettering their champion, and doing so with sufficient style and grace to be admitted to the ranks of Salle Angelo.

For the sense of occasion I fenced in full skirts, and this photograph, while not the most gracious in style, shows me levitating, a skill I did not realise I possessed.





It was a fabulous evening of ceremony and convivial company, with everyone dressed up exquisitely for the occasion. After the duel we all retired to Plato for a splendid dinner and entertaining speeches. Most certainly a night to remember.

A duel to the death...

...or until dinner.

I have caused grave offense to the members of Salle Angelo by belittling their fancy hats, and therefore, must publicly duel their champion to restore honour and be formally admitted to the classic fencing club.

I shall be dueling down on the waterfront near Plato restaurant in Dunedin tonight at 6.15pm. If you happen to be lurking around the waterfront at that hour, come watch me wield my sword, hopefully with the finesse and style befitting of a lady. I shall elegantly and delicately try to run their champion through.