I've been to three different book talks -
1. Neneh Cherry sharing her new memoir, A Thousand Threads. She was surprisingly shy in front of the audience, considering this is the woman who really was notorious for her ability to act as she damn well pleased on stage through my formative years. It was a really interesting talk and it was clear there was 80s Wild Bunch royalty in the audience, though I wasn't cool enough to spot them - at one point she talked about Massive Attack staying in the back bedroom of her flat and said, 'I think...Daddy G, are you here?' to which she received a replying whoop from the gallery. Amazing. The man next to me (who introduced himself as Jim when he sat down) asked the best question about what music Neneh remembers stirring her soul first.
2. Richard Ayoade sharing The Unfinished Harauld Hughes. I brought Mr Z along to this one as Richard Ayoade is funny and we both appreciate him. It was the wrong book talk to be Mr Z's first, though. It didn't really occur to me that what we would get was Richard Ayoade in character as Richard Ayoade, leaving very little room for finding out about him or any of the things book people normally talk about at these things; the whole thing was more about Harauld Hughes than anything else. It was...surreal. Luckily the woman behind us found it all extremely hilarious so Mr Z and I bonded over how irritating she was.
3. Rev Richard Coles interviewing Ian Rankin. I first discovered Ian Rankin when I was living in Vegas and visiting the library most weeks, cycling over during the day to stave off boredom. I was looking for something else but saw a long row of both Ian Rankin and Robert Rankin. I picked the former and found the intense Britishness of the Rebus novels enormously comforting when I was a bit homesick. I'm afraid he might hate that, as a Scot, but there it is.
I am a bit behind with my Rebus reading, having only recently finished Exit Music - now it turns out there must be half a dozen books between that one and Midnight and Blue, which he was hawking at the book talk this week. I arrived 15 minutes early, but, since my presence definitely lowered the average age by a good few years, most of the seats were already taken. I found one on the end of a pew marked 'Warden' which had a lovely cushion on it; having sat down and discovered I was a foot taller than the rest of the audience, though, I removed it, to the relief of the couple behind me.
Anecdotes. Anyway - this was a lovely, cosy chat between two people who clearly knew each other quite well and I enjoyed all the insights into Rebus and how Rankin feels about the character and the books, and other things.
Love a book talk.
I haven't actually done much pleasure reading of A Gentleman in Moscow but I have been trying hard to get through it because I know it will be on reserve for lots of other people. It's good so far, quite entertaining. Other than that I've been reading lots for my Masters. Some of it is impenetrably academic, some of it is borderline entertaining. Today, as I hit my 6th or 7th reading, I realised with relief that things were starting to overlap - this was always a sure sign, as an undergrad, that understanding was beginning to coalesce. I start the taught course in five weeks so this is timely.
I have been enjoying my job. If you're a regular reader, this will probably come as a relief to you as I have been very whingey about my job this year. It turns out that just doing one job instead of two jobs smashed together into the time available for one job is actually quite pleasant. It's rare for anything on my job list, which is long, to be too urgent, which means I can spend some time actually thinking about what I want to do and how I want to do it. Who knows whether I will actually have time to enact my plans but I don't feel too much pressure to do and be everything and everywhere all at once. I like my new office and my new office mate. I'm less liking the fact that everyone seems to think I automatically know everything now, and comes to me very often with quite trivial things that I would have just worked out for myself when I was in their position, but presumably this feeling will not last too long.
I haven't yet been successful at the twisted German cast on or whatever it is called, I tried with a YouTube video and just got frustrated and gave up. So I have been working on the linen top instead, which is going much quicker now I am past the ribbing (obvs).
The health kick continues. I was an astonishing 15lbs down by last Monday. This week has been a very eaty week so we will see what happens tomorrow but, wow. I am pleased. According to my very sporadic records, I haven't been this weight since 2017. Loads of my old clothes fit much more comfortably and today, joy, a skirt I bought a number of years ago that has never fitted but I didn't send it back in time actually did up. It's a little snug yet but...it did up.
I'm actually enjoying the gym, as well. I stick Brat on (cringing in the knowledge that this is really not what the creator had in mind) and smash out 20 minutes on the elliptical without really noticing. Yesterday, it was nearly empty in there and I stayed for 90 minutes, making up exercises on various bits of equipment. I've made some good progress with the amount of weight I can lift too. It's actually fun. Next, I want to try the treadmill that is just a caterpillar track that you power yourself, but I am a bit scared of falling off it, so I am still plucking up the courage.
I'll leave you with some favourite pictures of autumn - all the pets enjoying some Saturday morning sunshine yesterday and an awesome rainbow from last week. Rainbows remind me of my y6 English teacher who was horribly sarcastic and mean when I put my hand up in a lesson to point out a rainbow outside. But you don't get to see rainbows very often. I think it's important to take the pause to look at one whenever it cares to appear. This one was splendid and so clear, I could see the reflection of it in an arc over the main one.
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