It was pure coincidence that I read de Bernières' novel before my holiday but what a happy accident.
My summer holiday this year was spent in Norway, exploring fjords and glaciers, kayaking, axe-throwing, sampling Scandinavian beers and pretending to be a mermaid. Then we stumbled on a funny little place called Fjaerdland and I fell in love.
Tomorrow, I’m off to Milan on the train. The journey takes a little over three hours, just long enough to absorb a novel. I want to read something which will
f everything worked out, this would be the first time one of Dona Candida’s girls had succeeded in getting away. It would work out. The alternative was unbearable.
Chapter 1 His concentration faded with the light. The soft stroke of the low notes created a hollow mid-air tone, not a warm vibration in his chest, and the high voice
Chapter 1 My name is Ann Sheldon. A tourist? Yes, but having hopes to become a local. I’m a poet, you see, hunting peace and quiet and inspiration. Ha, ha! Very
Creativity takes a lot out of us. A lot of what? I think Neil Gaiman says this best. Everything we encounter, every random thought, snatch of conversation, idea provoked by news story or strange juxtaposition of scent and colour goes onto the compost heap. None of these are fully formed stories, but ferment and cohere until that rich soil is ready to sprout something new.