Unlike January, February seemed to pass by in a flash – perhaps because I spent a few days with my older son in Geneva (and finally realised the limitations of my aging body while skiing) and also because I’ve been so busy with handover responsibilities at work. Nevertheless, I got a reasonable amount of reading in: 15 books – an odd mix of planned (#FrenchFebruary and #ReadIndies) and completely random selections. Seven of the books were in translation (or in French original), one was a book of poetry, one a collection of essays so non-fiction, one was Erasure by Percival Everett (because I’ll be going to see the film adaptation soon) and the remaining five were crime fiction (one of the books in translation was crime fiction too – The Meiji Guillotine Murders).
I attended an event organised by Chorleywood Bookshop with Alex Michaelides and enjoyed what he had to say so much that I bought his latest book, The Fury, and then borrowed his first two books immediately from the library. It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen into that kind of reading urgency, so it was nice to experience it once more, although after three in short succession I may have had enough of the psychology of troubled people.
The #FrenchFebruary and #ReadIndies books were quite short and all by women authors: Maylis de Kerangal, Faiza Guene, Nolwenn Le Blennevec and Delphine de Vigan.
With hindsight, it was probably not a good idea to read the Trauma essays in parallel with Saramago’s Blindness, which I found profoundly disturbing. I needed a day or so to recover after every chapter, so I’m still not sure how to digest it or talk about that book at our London Reads the World Book Club on the 4th of March. However, the Trauma essays themselves were very diverse, on a wide range of topics, styles and approaches, so at any other time I would have appreciated them, although perhaps best to dip in and out of them.
Captains of the Sands will be reviewed next month for the #1937Club, but I borrowed it from the university library so had to read it this month and return it before I leave my job. To my great dismay, I discovered that I cannot keep my library privileges as an ex-member of staff or alumni, and that it would cost me over £200 per year to continue to have access to the library (still half the price of the London Library, I guess).
Which brings me to another hidden advantage that has kept me in my workplace until now, even when things got really tough, namely free entry to the permanent exhibition at the Courtauld Gallery. I took advantage of my last few remaining days with my staff member card to see the galleries for the first time since they underwent a thorough refurbishment and they look more beautiful than ever.
Beyond reading, I also embarked upon a memoir writing course with The National Centre for Writing, although I have to wonder at the wisdom of doing that (and having to hand in assignments every fortnight) when I have a very, very busy few weeks ahead. I also attended two sessions organised by Manchester in Translation – a keynote by Anton Hur to revitalise me and make me feel more optimistic about translation in general and a German translation workshop with Katy Derbyshire, which reminded me how much fun it is to translate in a group (even if you never agree about anything).
I also attended one day of the Independent Publishers’ Guild Spring Conference, where I met other small publishers, including one-person bands, and made a long list of things I still have to learn and do to become more professional at this publishing malarkey.
I watched six films this month, of which Poor Things was probably the most memorable and genuinely funny at times. I was discomfited at first but finally won over by the highly stylised set, the strange sound editing, and, above all, Emma Stone’s performance. Full Time, a deceptively simple film about a single mother’s daily struggles during a train strike in Paris, starring Laure Calamy from Call My Agent, was perhaps too stressful to be considered enjoyable – but amazing how tense a film with such a straightforward premise can be. I finally watched Chicago (after seeing it on stage twice in London many years ago), and was wowed by how beautiful and sexy Catherine Zeta Jones was in this. The remaining three films Inglorious Basterds, Triangle of Sadness and Past Lives were ok but did not quite live up my expectations, after some people raved about them.
March promises to be a very, very busy month, with London Book Fair, the Alternative Book Fair, working on edits and covers on two books at once, meeting my Romanian author, possibly hosting a publishers’ showcase for the Indie Press Network and so much more. Good job I stop my day job on March 6th! Which reminds me, I’d better put a page up listing my services for my freelance career…
findingtimetowrite 