Back in the summer I went to a traditional village fete complete with a dog show and welly throwing with my chum E who lives there. It's been years since I went to one but it proved to be a fun afternoon out. One stall that caught my eye was the book stall. I am incapable of resisting books- as fast as I declutter them they creep back in but I am very disciplined and hardly ever keep fiction ones after I've read them. This time there was a thrifty offer of three paperbacks for a pound...well I thought it would have been rude of me to refuse and this was one of the ones that came home with me.
Naturally my choice was based upon the stonkingly good reviews plastered all over the covers.....erm I am of course lying. Confession time...it had red pages. How shallow is that...n'er mind I do shallow so well...it's a bit like when I choose wine. Once I've narrowed down the thriftier priced ones then I go for the one with the prettiest label or bottle!
Having only just reached The Night Circus in my book pile and having had no prior expectations it's a keeper. Full of sparkles and gossamer threads linking it all together I never want to see it on the screen even though I think there's been a film made of it. From the crafted descriptions I now have my own personal vision of how the circus and characters look and that's the way I want it to stay. I read it slowly as I didn't want it to finish and it's not often the case with me and a book these days.