I took t'small son to London for the day and had a wonderful time. Highlight: going to Carluccio's near Oxford Circus and having 'children's coffee' (thick hot chocolate served in an espresso cup).
We entered a bookshop and before I knew it, I had purchased four books. Two of them are by Mary Renault, because everyone's been swooning on about her slashy Alexander. And then my eye fell on a pile of
the new David Mitchell novels lying next to the till, and I got heart palpitations.
Currently, there are only two (non-fanfic) authors who give me palpitations and whose books I have to buy in hardback because I simply cannot wait for the paperback and despite hating to read or shelve hardbacks -- and they are Ann-Marie MacDonald and David Mitchell.
On the train down, I started doing a narratological analysis of
azewewish's "In the Name of Research" and
novanumbernine's "Bordertown". It is very interesting, actually, and even more rewarding than I had expected. I'm using Genette's terms and applying them systematically, and am about 1/3 of the way through. It's helping me come to grips with the narratological concepts, and it's also very interesting to read fic without evaluating. Analysis is not like criticism or beta; it's more about describing than prescribing or judging. And I'm glad I happened to start out with two very different authors and very different styles. Will post my analysis when I'm through!
Not much else to report except that I'm feeling rather cheerful, will rent a romantic comedy from Blockbuster tonight (despite considerable familial resistance) and am still sitting about unshowered and undressed at 2.47 pm! Heh.
But
blythely thinks I look like Kajol so all must be right with the world.