I hardly ever wear shoes when I’m at home. I’m quite fond of the feel of the grass under my feet, so I don’t wear them outside either, unless I’m planning on heading off to the wilder reaches of the yard where there’s long grass or thorns. In a very good mood this morning, because we finally have the power back on, and being able to resume my usual zooming around in the middle of the night, I went out to let the chickens out at six. By the time I got there though, I was deeply regretting this habit, and had ten well frost-bitten toes. I’m guessing that if it’s this chilly now, with us still officially in autumn, we’re in for a very cold winter. Speedily sprinting back to the house to warm up my tootsies had me thinking of books – or more particularly – winter and books, back in the days when Kindles had never been heard of yet.
My fondest reading memories all seem to have been in winter. Curled up on the couch, fire blazing, with hot chocolate, a mug of soup, or these days, a nice warming glass of Pinotage clutched firmly in hand. And there was nothing to beat the feeling of turning to page one of an eagerly awaited new release by a favourite author or new instalment in a series. By the time I could feel my toes again, I’d convinced myself that that was all dead and gone now. Why get excited when you could download a book in an instant, and why pay for a favourite author anyway with all the freebies about? Good mood well squelched, I turned on my computer and looked at the top hundred free bestsellers to test my theory. Glumly getting to the final book without finding any that I wanted to download or read, I went to Terry Pratchett’s page to commiserate and mourn all that lost excitement. Then I spotted three of his that I haven’t read yet and bought them. So happy was I to open the first pages of all of them, that it took quite a bit of strength not to just dive in and read on. I managed though, and they’ve now joined my pile of other virtual books waiting for me to get my nose into. Not a bit of the excitement is lost, and readers will never stop paying for the books they want to read in favour of others just because they’re free. Faith restored. Books will always be the place we go to for the love of the story, to escape the troubles of the world, or just for a laugh, even if they do cost a few bucks, and whether they’re old loves or new. Or sometimes just plain silly.
This last week we haven’t been running the generator much, so not being able to go online often, I’ve been having a look through my pile of unread e-books. I’m nearly finished reading My Alien Mind by Amanda Green now, but just having a random look around yesterday, I came across one of my impulse buys, popped it open, and spent the next hour laughing till I cried, and later leaving it a five star review. It’s a very small book called Epic Text Fails! by Marcus Rainey, and certainly not for underage readers. And that’s all it is – predictive text message mix-ups. They’re mainly seriously rude and offensive, but that’s just what makes them so funny. There were one or two that I didn’t find funny, to be honest, merely offensive, but the other ninety nine percent were cringingly hilarious, and got my day off to a very happy start, regardless of being in the dark. Even though it’s a bit silly and isn’t a “book” in the true sense of the word, I’ll keep my eye peeled for anything else Marcus Rainey publishes purely on the strength of his sense of humour, more than happily pay for it, and open the first page with eager anticipation. If something gives you a good vibe, you’re going to want more. Isn’t it amazing what revelations cold feet can bring? Then again, could be that I’m just a bit odd.
Till next time friends. xxx