When last I ranted, we had made on offer on a house with a mahoosive and truly magnificent kitchen, and we were in for the wait. And wait we did, but the owners were arseholes and after their property being on the market for three months already and ours being the only asking price offer submitted, they eventually decided they wanted more money and then went, nah, we'll remortgage thanks. Buggers.
Unfortunately, that kitchen has ruined me and now all other kitchens will be compared to that one, and inevitably be inferior, and that will always be our 'one that got away.' Sob. And so we returned to the drawing board, or in this case, the map on rightmove and found our next few viewings. We had some good ones and some not so great ones and some, oh, that looked way better on the photographs but quite shit in person. And some, oh dear, they have way over priced that - because I am now an expert and can give these carefully assessed observations. And some, oh that has a big basement, that could be interesting - and also full of spiders, and it would need to be dug out and probably cost us 6 months and 60 grand to do it. And we had viewings on weekends and weekdays and even on Valentine's Day and unfortunately that was one of the shite ones and I'd had a massively long day at work and just wanted to eat something.
But there were some lights ahead in the tunnel and we found a few beauties tucked away, again in the form of the massive terraced house. We're talking four bedrooms, attic conversion already done, at least two bathrooms and a garden and a short walk to a beautiful park etc etc. Not too shabby. However, these 'guide' prices on properties are starting to become annoying. You are giving just under asking price and then being told that actually they expect to get asking price or higher, and it's like, in this market? Are you serious? And also, WTF?! People always make offers lower than the price listed and then go higher if they need to, but what is all this demanding the price or higher malarkey? I don't get it!
Meanwhile, we had to prepare the flat for going on the market, which involved being screwed over by the valuer and eventually reasoning with them to make them see they were wrong. Obviously A dealt with that, though I did have to spend an hour with the extremely posh back up valuer we hired to get a second opinion on, which was scary. He immediately called out my accent and then explained he had family in Bolton. But I have literally never been in a room with someone so posh. Luckily he was also lovely and we ended up having a good chinwag.
Then came the de-cluttering which involved hiring a storage unit and getting rid of about fifteen boxes of stuff, plus other random crap and two of the three extra keyboard stands we own - who knows - and the guitar stand. Now that was a stressful morning. I moved so many boxes that day, it may have been the most upper body strength I've ever displayed in one go. We hired a van and were at the storage place at 8am, as they opened. Once off loaded, van returned and Andrea off to work, I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon cleaning the bathroom. But when I say cleaning, I mean deep cleaning. I spent hours getting rid of expired products, cleaning out bottles to be put in recycling, and breathed in far too much bleach for one day.
The next day we had the photographer coming at 1pm and so I spent all morning cleaning and moving things and generally making the place look spectacular, and when he called to say that he was running a bit late, I rejoiced because it meant I could finish off and quickly wash my face before he arrived. And when he walked in and said: 'Wow, this looks great for photographs.' I knew that despite the fact that I hated everything and never wanted to clean anything again in my life, that it had been worth it. The photos were great and now it's a case of keeping it tidy. Most of the spices now live in a small suitcase so it gives the illusion that we have a tidy spice shelf, and most of the tupperware things are stuffed in a large suitcase. We have to keep going to find things as we need them.
We have an openhouse planned for this weekend where we hope to wow everyone with our beautiful flat, despite the building still being covered in scaffolding and the communal areas being a mess and the balcony works not finished and... I could go on. Maybe I'll bake some treats to distract them. It's worth a shot.
And so, back to the houses. We found one. We liked it a lot. We had two viewings within the space of 3 days, and we were fairly certain we would put in an offer. It was very nicely done and even had a kitchen island - the dream - a wine fridge and beautiful views from the annex bedroom. But on the same day we also found another new property and were the first to view it, and the downstairs was amazing! Two massive reception rooms, a kitchen with so much space I could have a dance lesson in there. A window seat, a conservatory, a massive garden with grass plus decking and a brick barbecue. But this only had 3 bedrooms as the attic and basements had not been converted. So whilst it was beautiful, we opted first to put an offer on the bigger one, mainly due to less hassle not having to do the extension ourselves.
And we entered a bidding war and we lost. Yay! The joys.
But alas, yesterday we made an offer on the other house, and they have accepted. Eek. Argh. And other noises. And so A has already looked into architects and loft conversion specialists. Of course. And so we have to do that thing where you don't get your hopes up, but they are clearly up, because it could still be taken away or fall through, or no one may want our flat, but at the moment, we may have a house and it may or may not have a red door. Fate?!
I didn't know what to do with myself, as I only found out about it an hour and a half ago. And after freaking out a bit, I decided to tick another item off my to do list, and write a blog.
If anyone else is going through this house buying process at the moment, or selling, then I feel your pain and I too am not sleeping or able to think about much else. It's slightly consuming.
Thank you for reading as always. And fingers crossed. Eek.
Rants
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Thursday, January 31, 2019
House Hunting London Styles
Over the last few weeks, I have been doing something uncharacteristically grown up: house hunting. And so it seems only fair that I rant about it. It's scary and exciting and jaw dropping and eye opening. And you find yourself thinking houses at half a million are cheap (half a freakin' million!) and saying things like: 'This is well priced for the area.' I mean what the fuck do I know about anything, but I feel qualified to comment. You also throw out things like, 'that's at the top of our budget'; 'do we really need five bedrooms?' and 'this has potential.' Potential? What?!
I have actually been enjoying the looking. The looking is great. It's like snooping in people's houses, but you're actually allowed to and the people aren't there, so they can't catch you being a nosy bitch watching through the windows. Oh come on, we all do that right? And of course, most of the ones we were looking at were very nicely done up, or nicely staged, and it becomes very exciting and overwhelming, because you're thinking, where will our stuff go, and can I see myself living here, and if I see another four bed terrace that I like, my head may explode.
There's a certain bubble of giddiness, when you're snooping in, I mean, looking in houses, and you get carried away, which can lead you to become overly excited at interesting storage ideas and scream when you see the kitchen of your dreams. This never happened to me. Honestly. I didn't make the Estate Agent laugh. Not me. No. But when you get home this sort of quiet contemplation takes over, and you find yourselves unable to concentrate on anything, because you're brain is going three million miles a second, just trying to figure stuff out and you start talking yourself out of something. Until you go for a second viewing, and then you talk yourself right back into it. It's complicated. It's a set of emotions most people don't go through very often, unless you're one of those weirdo freaks who change their houses as often as I change my vans (roughly every 18 months to two years because I wear them out). I mean, who does that?
Location, location, location. We are likely moving from an area we know and love, to an area we have no idea about. That is tough. But within that there are still areas that you think, no, I don't want to walk around here at night by myself. And if you're going to be spending ridiculous amounts of money on a house, you want to at least be able to walk home and like your area. It doesn't matter that inside the house is an absolute dream, and so pretty it made me want to cry. (I told you, a lot of emotions.) If you don't really want to walk through the streets to get home, there's a problem.
'It's just at the end of the road.' Just some of the bullshit sprouted by the Estate Agents, though to be fair, I thought there would be more. We went to visit one house and were told the Olympic Park was at the end of the road, so on the way back we decided to walk there. It was about twenty minutes walk away and very much not at the end of the road. You also get a lot of, it's very close to the station, which to be clarified by google maps, usually means twenty minutes walk away. Not so very close.
Size both does and doesn't matter. What I mean by this is that it's not always about the biggest house. The biggest one we've seen we hated. It was not us at all. It was massive but only had one bathroom for it's four bedrooms. We would have had to change so much to get it how we liked it, that it would have been pointless. And it had an extremely creepy, horror film cellar, and I've seen way too many horror films. It was also at the top of our budget and perhaps a little high on price for the area. There I go again with all my knowledge.
The photographs that you see online can really make a difference and we've had cases of being disappointed, relieved and also pleasantly surprised. It seems like it's impossible to get photos right. If you use the fish eye too much, then you often walk in and think it is way smaller than you imagined. But then sometimes things look too narrow or too cluttered, but then you walk in and think, there's so much more space. And when they don't show you a picture of something, but they mention it - for instance, a cellar or basement - that basically means that it's a shit heap that they've done nothing to, but are willing to use as a selling point with the word 'potential' hastily pinned on. Also when they only show the house from the back, that usually means the house looks shitty from the front.
And so we have made an offer on a place and now we have the wait. Why wouldn't they take our offer, we're nice people and we offered the asking price? But then you start doubting everything and the hopes that you weren't getting up, that you did of course get up, are now deflating. I mean, I would literally kill for that kitchen, but if they don't want our offer then it's obviously not meant to be my kitchen, and I'll have to go and snoop in more houses and find the one for us.
This is Rants signing off on the 10th Anniversary of Flat 19, with so much guilt at the possibility of buying a new place and leaving Flat 19, that it's silly. I'm pretty sure Flat 19 won't hold it against me as we've given it ten years of wonder and enchantment, but then, who knows?
To anyone else house hunting, I feel your pain, excitement, confusion and general WTF?
Rants out.
I have actually been enjoying the looking. The looking is great. It's like snooping in people's houses, but you're actually allowed to and the people aren't there, so they can't catch you being a nosy bitch watching through the windows. Oh come on, we all do that right? And of course, most of the ones we were looking at were very nicely done up, or nicely staged, and it becomes very exciting and overwhelming, because you're thinking, where will our stuff go, and can I see myself living here, and if I see another four bed terrace that I like, my head may explode.
There's a certain bubble of giddiness, when you're snooping in, I mean, looking in houses, and you get carried away, which can lead you to become overly excited at interesting storage ideas and scream when you see the kitchen of your dreams. This never happened to me. Honestly. I didn't make the Estate Agent laugh. Not me. No. But when you get home this sort of quiet contemplation takes over, and you find yourselves unable to concentrate on anything, because you're brain is going three million miles a second, just trying to figure stuff out and you start talking yourself out of something. Until you go for a second viewing, and then you talk yourself right back into it. It's complicated. It's a set of emotions most people don't go through very often, unless you're one of those weirdo freaks who change their houses as often as I change my vans (roughly every 18 months to two years because I wear them out). I mean, who does that?
Location, location, location. We are likely moving from an area we know and love, to an area we have no idea about. That is tough. But within that there are still areas that you think, no, I don't want to walk around here at night by myself. And if you're going to be spending ridiculous amounts of money on a house, you want to at least be able to walk home and like your area. It doesn't matter that inside the house is an absolute dream, and so pretty it made me want to cry. (I told you, a lot of emotions.) If you don't really want to walk through the streets to get home, there's a problem.
'It's just at the end of the road.' Just some of the bullshit sprouted by the Estate Agents, though to be fair, I thought there would be more. We went to visit one house and were told the Olympic Park was at the end of the road, so on the way back we decided to walk there. It was about twenty minutes walk away and very much not at the end of the road. You also get a lot of, it's very close to the station, which to be clarified by google maps, usually means twenty minutes walk away. Not so very close.
Size both does and doesn't matter. What I mean by this is that it's not always about the biggest house. The biggest one we've seen we hated. It was not us at all. It was massive but only had one bathroom for it's four bedrooms. We would have had to change so much to get it how we liked it, that it would have been pointless. And it had an extremely creepy, horror film cellar, and I've seen way too many horror films. It was also at the top of our budget and perhaps a little high on price for the area. There I go again with all my knowledge.
The photographs that you see online can really make a difference and we've had cases of being disappointed, relieved and also pleasantly surprised. It seems like it's impossible to get photos right. If you use the fish eye too much, then you often walk in and think it is way smaller than you imagined. But then sometimes things look too narrow or too cluttered, but then you walk in and think, there's so much more space. And when they don't show you a picture of something, but they mention it - for instance, a cellar or basement - that basically means that it's a shit heap that they've done nothing to, but are willing to use as a selling point with the word 'potential' hastily pinned on. Also when they only show the house from the back, that usually means the house looks shitty from the front.
And so we have made an offer on a place and now we have the wait. Why wouldn't they take our offer, we're nice people and we offered the asking price? But then you start doubting everything and the hopes that you weren't getting up, that you did of course get up, are now deflating. I mean, I would literally kill for that kitchen, but if they don't want our offer then it's obviously not meant to be my kitchen, and I'll have to go and snoop in more houses and find the one for us.
This is Rants signing off on the 10th Anniversary of Flat 19, with so much guilt at the possibility of buying a new place and leaving Flat 19, that it's silly. I'm pretty sure Flat 19 won't hold it against me as we've given it ten years of wonder and enchantment, but then, who knows?
To anyone else house hunting, I feel your pain, excitement, confusion and general WTF?
Rants out.
Friday, January 18, 2019
Remakes
Dear Rants readers, there is a epidemic sweeping through all the big film studios and it needs to be stopped. It's pretty much Disney's fault as they've started with the 'real life' remakes of all the classic animated films - though I hasten to point out that the Jungle Book had one person in it and the rest was CGI (just a different type of animation), and the upcoming Lion King will have zero 'real life' elements as it will all be CGI. Plus it looks exactly the same as the animated one, so what is the effing point? Oh yeah, money. I got it. Money. And whilst I will say I quite enjoyed the Cinderella, mainly because the cast was brilliant and I love Lily James, they are pretty much unnecessary, except for the massive money making. And they don't even have the songs in. Or not all of them anyway. And if they do have the songs in, they're not sung as well as they were because the actors are then chosen for how they look and not what they sound like. Urgh! Not that you can't be extremely attractive and have an amazing voice. You can. But that doesn't mean you'll be cast in the new Disney remake.
But then I read that they are redoing Roald Dahl's The Witches film, and I'm like, no. This cannot happen. This is so unnecessary. This is so wrong. The Witches is brilliantly creepy, capturing the essence of the book perfectly, and we don't need a new one. Besides, Anne Hathaway - no offense intended - She's great but she is no Angelica Houston. Just leave things alone and write some new stuff. Why does everything have to be a remake, a prequel or a sequel?
And then the final straw. They are remaking the best musical ever written! The film that won the most Academy Awards for a Musical, ever! And is fourth on the list of most Academy Award wins, behind Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Titanic and Ben-Hur. It won 10 Oscars! I mean, really, you want to remake that? Are you stupid? This film does not need a remake. It needs to be treasured for all time as the greatest musical masterpiece and it needs to be left alone. I don't give a flying feckle if Steven Spielberg is directing it, he directed Ready Player One which was shockingly shit considering the wonder of a novel it was crafted from. It makes me angry. Why aren't people creating new shit, instead of trying to recreate or update the classic shit? Just leave it alone.
Needless to say I will not be watching it and I will continue to wear out my West Side Story DVD, and the two or three different versions of the OST that I own. And if it comes back to the stage I will buy a ticket. But I won't subscribe to this remake.
What remakes make you angry? Is there anything you feel was done badly the first time that you would like a remake of? Or do you think it should all be left alone? Comments on a postcard to this address...
Rants out.
But then I read that they are redoing Roald Dahl's The Witches film, and I'm like, no. This cannot happen. This is so unnecessary. This is so wrong. The Witches is brilliantly creepy, capturing the essence of the book perfectly, and we don't need a new one. Besides, Anne Hathaway - no offense intended - She's great but she is no Angelica Houston. Just leave things alone and write some new stuff. Why does everything have to be a remake, a prequel or a sequel?
And then the final straw. They are remaking the best musical ever written! The film that won the most Academy Awards for a Musical, ever! And is fourth on the list of most Academy Award wins, behind Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Titanic and Ben-Hur. It won 10 Oscars! I mean, really, you want to remake that? Are you stupid? This film does not need a remake. It needs to be treasured for all time as the greatest musical masterpiece and it needs to be left alone. I don't give a flying feckle if Steven Spielberg is directing it, he directed Ready Player One which was shockingly shit considering the wonder of a novel it was crafted from. It makes me angry. Why aren't people creating new shit, instead of trying to recreate or update the classic shit? Just leave it alone.
Needless to say I will not be watching it and I will continue to wear out my West Side Story DVD, and the two or three different versions of the OST that I own. And if it comes back to the stage I will buy a ticket. But I won't subscribe to this remake.
What remakes make you angry? Is there anything you feel was done badly the first time that you would like a remake of? Or do you think it should all be left alone? Comments on a postcard to this address...
Rants out.
Monday, December 31, 2018
My Year in Books 2018
Well Rants readers, here we are again, at the end of another
year. It’s been a tough one in many ways but helping us to get through it as
always, is the world of literature. This year wasn’t about reading challenges
and reading as many books as I possibly could – as that usually distracts me
from other things – it was simply about enjoying books, taking my time and
exploring new authors. So the numbers might be lower but there have been some
good ‘uns. As always, I will take it month by month and choose a favourite for
each month.
Books I Read
in January
- SAGA Volume 5: Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples
- Letters Home: Sylvia Plath
- A Wrinkle in Time: Madeline L’engle
- Italian Short Stories for Intermediates: Olly Richards
- Everybody Hurts: Joanna Nadin and Anthony McGowan (Library)
- Nancy Drew Files #100 Dance Till You Die: Carolyn Keene (Kindle)
- Nancy Drew Files #20 Very Deadly Yours: Carolyn Keene (Kindle)
- Awful Auntie: David Walliams
Quite a mix
of a month. My first taste of Nancy Drew sparked by my obsession with
Riverdale, the completion of a heavy book of letters from Sylvia Plath and my
last short stories in Italian before I moved on to novels. But alas, SAGA
steals the show this month. What a series, what wonderful minds created this, and long may it continue.
Books I Read
in February
1 1. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: J.K
Rowling (Re-read)
2. Forever: Judy Blume (Kindle)
3. The Summer of Us: Maggie Harcourt (Kindle)
4. When Everything Feels Like the Movies: Raziel Reid (Library)
5. Love, Hate and Other Filters: Samira Ahmed (Kindle)
6. State of Grace: Rachael Lucas (Kindle)
2. Forever: Judy Blume (Kindle)
3. The Summer of Us: Maggie Harcourt (Kindle)
4. When Everything Feels Like the Movies: Raziel Reid (Library)
5. Love, Hate and Other Filters: Samira Ahmed (Kindle)
6. State of Grace: Rachael Lucas (Kindle)
A big kindle
month with lots of great YA. I finally read Forever by Judy Blume, which
escaped me as a child and yet is talked about by authors, in film and TV all
the time. I thought it was about time I read it. It was quite tough to pick a winner this
month but it goes to Love, Hate and Other Filters by Samira Ahmed, a powerful debut which handles difficult issues with grace, humour and romance. Check it out.
Books I Read
in March
1 1. The Princess Diarist: Carrie Fisher (Kindle)
2. The Underground Railroad: Colson Whitehead (Library)
3. Sofia Khan is Not Obliged: Ayisha Malik (Kindle)
4. A Skinful of Shadows: Frances Hardinge (Library)
5. One of us is Lying: Karen M. McManus
6. Silence is Goldfish: Annabel Pitcher
2. The Underground Railroad: Colson Whitehead (Library)
3. Sofia Khan is Not Obliged: Ayisha Malik (Kindle)
4. A Skinful of Shadows: Frances Hardinge (Library)
5. One of us is Lying: Karen M. McManus
6. Silence is Goldfish: Annabel Pitcher
I learned a
lot this month. I learned that Princess Leia and Hans Solo were in love on and
off set. I learned about the Underground Railroad and I learned about muslim
dating. If I could have picked two winners of the month, the second would have
been Sofia Khan is Not Obliged by Ayisha Malik, which is fantastic and
hilarious and I can’t wait to read the sequel, however, One of Us is Lying is a such a great YA who-done-it, written from several perspectives, and it was so good I could
barely put the book down. I also bought it from a lovely charity book shop in a
crooked old house which gives me very happy memories.
Books I Read
in April
1 1. Uccidere
per amore e per odio: Cinzia Medaglia
2. The Falling sky: Pippa Goldschmidt
3. Swing Time: Zadie Smith
4. The Tightrope Walkers: David Almond
5. Black dove, White Raven: Elizabeth Wein
2. The Falling sky: Pippa Goldschmidt
3. Swing Time: Zadie Smith
4. The Tightrope Walkers: David Almond
5. Black dove, White Raven: Elizabeth Wein
April was
about reading some books off my shelves and having a rest from the kindle screen.
It worked out well as I read an adult book by the great David Almond – love
him! – and I read a new author: Pippa Goldschmidt, but the top honours go to
Zadie Smith. I love her writing, it's so gritty and real, you can almost taste it, and it's even better when you
live in London because you know some of the places she is describing. Zadie, if
you’re giving lessons, you have an eager student here.
Books I Read
in May
1 1. Simon Vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda: Becky
Albertalli (kindle)
2. A Kiss in the Dark: Cat Clarke (Kindle)
3. Big Bones: Laura Dockrill (Kindle)
4. Slay: Kim Curran
5. I am Malala: Malala (Kindle)
6. Fahrenheit 451: Ray Bradbury
2. A Kiss in the Dark: Cat Clarke (Kindle)
3. Big Bones: Laura Dockrill (Kindle)
4. Slay: Kim Curran
5. I am Malala: Malala (Kindle)
6. Fahrenheit 451: Ray Bradbury
After seeing
Love Simon at the cinema – and loving it, I might add – it seemed only fair
that I eventually read the book. Cat Clarke’s books never fail to rip you apart
with the sheer brutality of the emotions, and they have this power to really zap you in. I went
back to the kindle in a big way this month, but the winner of best book has to be Slay by
Kim Curran. I mean, where was this book when I was a teen? Vampire slaying with
musicians and kick ass women…sign me up. The sequel should be out soon and I
cannot wait. Also I bought this from my local book shop: Owl Bookshop in
Kentish Town. I love this bookshop so a big shout out to them, and Kim Curran
who is a lovely human being!
Books I Read
in June
1 1. Perfect: Cecelia Ahern (Kindle)
2. Clean: Juno Dawson (Kindle)
3. Innamorarsi di April: Melvin Burgess
4. Time and the Hunter: Italo Calvino
5. La Straordinaria Avventura di Gatto Melanzana: Manuela Menini
6. How do you Like me Now?: Holly Bourne
7. SAGA Volume 6: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
2. Clean: Juno Dawson (Kindle)
3. Innamorarsi di April: Melvin Burgess
4. Time and the Hunter: Italo Calvino
5. La Straordinaria Avventura di Gatto Melanzana: Manuela Menini
6. How do you Like me Now?: Holly Bourne
7. SAGA Volume 6: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
Finally I
finished the Italian novel I had started a couple of months previously. The
book was tough to read and dealt with some tricky issues and took me a while,
but I got through it, my second full novel in Italian. Woo hoo. I highly recommend the
book whether read in English or translated. Melvin Burgess is fabulous. The winner of this month is Clean
by Juno Dawson. It is about addiction in young people and I thought it would be
thoroughly depressing, but it was full of hope and humour and a really great read.
Books I Read
in July
1 1. Argilla: David Almond (In Italian)
2. In Patagonia: Bruce Chatwin (Kindle)
2. In Patagonia: Bruce Chatwin (Kindle)
Not much
read this month, but we were on holiday for two weeks and if you have any idea
what my holidays are like, you would understand how not much relaxing and
reading ever goes on. The winner this month is Argilla by David Almond, again I
read it translated in Italian, and it only took me two weeks, my new record. It felt like a big achievement and it also meant reading one of my
favourite authors. Everybody wins and I learn more Italian.
Books I Read
in August
1 1. Jane Eyre: Charlotte Bronte
2. Festa di Famiglia: Sveva Casati Modignani
3. NW: Zadie Smith
4. SAGA Volume 7: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
5. The Bookshop: Penelope Fitzgerald (Kindle)
6. Anything is Possible: Elizabeth Stroud
2. Festa di Famiglia: Sveva Casati Modignani
3. NW: Zadie Smith
4. SAGA Volume 7: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
5. The Bookshop: Penelope Fitzgerald (Kindle)
6. Anything is Possible: Elizabeth Stroud
Can you
believe it? I made it to the tender age of 34 without having read Jane Eyre,
though at least I got it in before my 35th Birthday. That would have
been embarrassing. What can I say? It’s a masterpiece. And I shall be reading
it again and again over the years, I am sure.
Books I Read
in September
1 1. The Lost and the Found: Cat Clarke (Kindle)
2. A Boy Called Ocean: Chris Higgins (Library)
3. The Trees: Ali Shaw
4. L’arte di correre: Haruki Murakami
2. A Boy Called Ocean: Chris Higgins (Library)
3. The Trees: Ali Shaw
4. L’arte di correre: Haruki Murakami
This month I took in another
Italian book, this one non-fiction and autobiographical. Also a little hard
going and unnecessarily flowery at times, but still, good to experience new
vocabulary and literary devices in a different language. This month’s winner is
Cat Clarke, who writes awesome books for a YA audience and has the ability to
pull you in and have you feeling all of the emotions.
Books I Read
In October
1 1. A Quiet Kind of Thunder: Sara Barnard
(Kindle)
2. 84K: Claire North
3. Classic Ghost Stories: Dickens et al…
4. The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories: Angela Carter
2. 84K: Claire North
3. Classic Ghost Stories: Dickens et al…
4. The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories: Angela Carter
I tried to
have a slightly spooky Halloween month and thoroughly enjoyed all the short
ghost stories and my first reading of Angela Carter. I already have a couple of
her other books to divulge at my leisure. But Sara Barnard’s romantic tale of a
mute girl and a deaf boy is just so charming and heart breaking and heart-warming
and brilliant, that I read it in two days, despite working both of those days. If
you haven’t read any Sara Barnard, check her out.
Books I Read
in November
1 1. Spinning Silver: Naomi Novik
2. SAGA Volume 8: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
3. Are we all Lemmings and Snowflakes?: Holly Bourne (Kindle)
4. Alias Grace: Margaret Atwood
5. Kitchen: Banana Yoshimoto (In Italian)
2. SAGA Volume 8: Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan
3. Are we all Lemmings and Snowflakes?: Holly Bourne (Kindle)
4. Alias Grace: Margaret Atwood
5. Kitchen: Banana Yoshimoto (In Italian)
Another
great mix of books this month. Another Italian novel, read in ten days – my new record - and thoroughly enjoyed, another volume of SAGA which never fails to
entertain, and another book by YA legend: Holly Bourne. But the year is not
complete without at least one Margaret Atwood book and Alias Grace is epic.
Books I Read
In December
1 1. My Brilliant Friend: Elena Ferrante
2. The Story of a New Name: Elena Ferrante
3. And a Happy New Year: Holly Bourne (Kindle)
4. All the Bright Places: Jennifer Niven (Kindle)
5. Valley of the Dolls: Jacqueline Susann (Kindle)
2. The Story of a New Name: Elena Ferrante
3. And a Happy New Year: Holly Bourne (Kindle)
4. All the Bright Places: Jennifer Niven (Kindle)
5. Valley of the Dolls: Jacqueline Susann (Kindle)
Okay, so you
tell me how to pick a favourite from this choice line up? December really was a
top month to finish the year on. Finally introducing myself into the world of Elena
Ferrante, revisiting the Spinster Club for its final outing, and reading a book
that is over fifty years old but feels like it was written last week. I took in some new
authors, all women, with great stories….ahhhh! It’s too hard to choose. So I will take the wuss way out. You all win.
You’re brilliant and I can’t wait to get started on the books I got for
Christmas, let alone all the new wonderful new releases and classics and books
already out there to be explored in 2019.
So the final
tally was 64! Not a patch on previous years but sometimes it is nice to just take your time and not rush things. Whilst most of 2018 was awash with anguish and political strife and upset, at least the literary world was keeping us entertained and will always continue to do so.
This is Rants out for another year.
Happy New Year.
Buon Anno.
And all the best for 2019. May there only be small scale, every day grievance style rants, and not great big, hairy, tearing countries and communities apart rants.
Rants
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Keeping Tabs and Wasting Time
Hello lovely Rants readers. So yesterday I had an appointment to get my phone battery changed at a place in Soho. The slot had been booked since last Friday and I was taking advantage of the Apple offer to change battery for £25, before the offer ends on the 31st December. But then on Tuesday evening, I received an email, which I didn't see until Wednesday morning, which basically said we may not have a battery for you, so call us in advance. I called them and of course they didn't have any batteries left, despite this slot having been booked, specifically for a battery replacement, five days previously.
I frantically researched for an alternative spot and found the one remaining slot at the Apple store in Covent Garden at 3.35pm. I was teaching at 4.30pm but I figured it was my last shot and I'd be cutting it fine, but I should still make it. So I leave a little bit early to make sure I've got enough time to navigate the chaos that is Covent Garden at Christmas, and I've backed up my phone, done all the preamble they asked for and even managed to get my phone out of its heavy duty, you-will-not-break -even-if-I-drop-you, case, which is not easy.
I wait a few minutes to be seen and they basically tell me my battery is running at 90% which considering it is around 3 years old, is great. He also tells me I don't actually need to get it replaced, but A had been badgering me about this for months and obviously thought it should be done. And now I'm faced with a decision and I can't seem to make it. And I hate myself for that because I'm an independent woman who, believe it or not, can actually make decisions for herself, but when it comes to technology does not trust herself, because the technology generally hates her. So I call A, and feel the feminists judge me, because I ask him what he thinks I should do. And whilst I would love to save the money, A insists its the right way to go. So I do it. I hand over my phone and the guy says it'll be ready about 5.00pm.
I head off to teach two private lessons in Angel, without the ability to listen to music - as I gave in my phone - and without anyway of contacting anyone. But I had a good book I'd just started on the kindle: a YA I've been meaning to read for years, and I get stuck in. (All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. It's very good.)
After teaching my final two students before Christmas, I ask about buses back to Convent Garden - again, can't check because of no phone - and I find my way back to the Apple store. It's now 6.40pm and I expect to be in and out. I am not. I am immediately signed in and they say it's busy but we'll have someone with you as soon as we can. Now I'm a patient person - I work with kids, I have to be - but after twenty minutes, I started to get a bit agitated. The lights were too bright. I was reading but not always taking it in, because if I lost myself to the book I might become invisible and they would pass right by me.
After half an hour, I started to very carefully, glare at the girl who signed me in. I was tired, hungry, dehydrated and borderline pissed off at this point, and still nothing. At this point I realise via my fitness watch that I've had a missed call - presumably from A - but whilst I can see I've been called, I can't actually answer a call. So I sit and think, he'll realise where I am, plus I'll be out of here soon. But after 45 minutes, I am still there, on the same stool, needing the toilet, my eyes now sick of the lights - I don't know how people work there eight hours a day - and I can't hold it in any longer. (My frustration not my pee.) The woman comes back and says, 'You've been waiting a while. Let me check up for you.' I say it's been 45 minutes, with the most polite yet pissed off tone I can manage. She finds someone else, who says give it five more minutes and if no one arrives, they will literally go up and get it themselves. I mean, if that was an option, why couldn't they have done that in the first place? But anyhoo, at least people are aware.
Three minutes later, a woman appears and bellows my name. But at this point I can't manage a smile. I'm not happy it's there, I'm tired and hungry/cranky - which is one of the worst types of cranky - and I know that A will have been panicking and sending messages and freaking out, because we're all so used to being able to contact someone all the time and to know where they are all the time, that the immediate thought when you can't is: panic, some one's hurt or dead or there's a zombie apocalypse. Chill out people. There was life before the technology that keeps tabs on us. There were days and weeks when you didn't contact people but you didn't immediately presume bad things. I kinda miss those days. But then I also missed listening to music on the bus journey.
Gilbert (my phone) was returned and hastily bundled back into his heavy duty case. There's a reason he looks so good and is in fine condition, because he is wrapped in armour enough to withstand my occasional lack of coordination, my lack of spacial awareness and the times when you just drop shit for no apparent reason. And there are the missed calls and the messages. A was so panicky that he wouldn't start cooking until he had heard from me. It is ridiculous what technology has done to us. We have to have contact or that person is in trouble. We have to have contact or something bad has happened.
What did we do before hand? Did parents really panic and worry every single second of the day because they didn't know your exact whereabouts? Did boyfriends and girlfriends, partners or spouses, panic about who was doing the shopping for the evening meal, or who was going to be back first, or where you were and what you were doing? No, you decided these things before you left the house, or you left a note, or you called them on the landline. And if there was an issue, then you found a pay phone, or you were just late back and then you explained the reason, or made an excuse.
We should try some experiments. Turn your phone off for a couple of hours, or refuse to answer messages and see what happens. Am I just cruel? Or would that be a lot of fun?
Rants out.
I frantically researched for an alternative spot and found the one remaining slot at the Apple store in Covent Garden at 3.35pm. I was teaching at 4.30pm but I figured it was my last shot and I'd be cutting it fine, but I should still make it. So I leave a little bit early to make sure I've got enough time to navigate the chaos that is Covent Garden at Christmas, and I've backed up my phone, done all the preamble they asked for and even managed to get my phone out of its heavy duty, you-will-not-break -even-if-I-drop-you, case, which is not easy.
I wait a few minutes to be seen and they basically tell me my battery is running at 90% which considering it is around 3 years old, is great. He also tells me I don't actually need to get it replaced, but A had been badgering me about this for months and obviously thought it should be done. And now I'm faced with a decision and I can't seem to make it. And I hate myself for that because I'm an independent woman who, believe it or not, can actually make decisions for herself, but when it comes to technology does not trust herself, because the technology generally hates her. So I call A, and feel the feminists judge me, because I ask him what he thinks I should do. And whilst I would love to save the money, A insists its the right way to go. So I do it. I hand over my phone and the guy says it'll be ready about 5.00pm.
I head off to teach two private lessons in Angel, without the ability to listen to music - as I gave in my phone - and without anyway of contacting anyone. But I had a good book I'd just started on the kindle: a YA I've been meaning to read for years, and I get stuck in. (All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. It's very good.)
After teaching my final two students before Christmas, I ask about buses back to Convent Garden - again, can't check because of no phone - and I find my way back to the Apple store. It's now 6.40pm and I expect to be in and out. I am not. I am immediately signed in and they say it's busy but we'll have someone with you as soon as we can. Now I'm a patient person - I work with kids, I have to be - but after twenty minutes, I started to get a bit agitated. The lights were too bright. I was reading but not always taking it in, because if I lost myself to the book I might become invisible and they would pass right by me.
After half an hour, I started to very carefully, glare at the girl who signed me in. I was tired, hungry, dehydrated and borderline pissed off at this point, and still nothing. At this point I realise via my fitness watch that I've had a missed call - presumably from A - but whilst I can see I've been called, I can't actually answer a call. So I sit and think, he'll realise where I am, plus I'll be out of here soon. But after 45 minutes, I am still there, on the same stool, needing the toilet, my eyes now sick of the lights - I don't know how people work there eight hours a day - and I can't hold it in any longer. (My frustration not my pee.) The woman comes back and says, 'You've been waiting a while. Let me check up for you.' I say it's been 45 minutes, with the most polite yet pissed off tone I can manage. She finds someone else, who says give it five more minutes and if no one arrives, they will literally go up and get it themselves. I mean, if that was an option, why couldn't they have done that in the first place? But anyhoo, at least people are aware.
Three minutes later, a woman appears and bellows my name. But at this point I can't manage a smile. I'm not happy it's there, I'm tired and hungry/cranky - which is one of the worst types of cranky - and I know that A will have been panicking and sending messages and freaking out, because we're all so used to being able to contact someone all the time and to know where they are all the time, that the immediate thought when you can't is: panic, some one's hurt or dead or there's a zombie apocalypse. Chill out people. There was life before the technology that keeps tabs on us. There were days and weeks when you didn't contact people but you didn't immediately presume bad things. I kinda miss those days. But then I also missed listening to music on the bus journey.
Gilbert (my phone) was returned and hastily bundled back into his heavy duty case. There's a reason he looks so good and is in fine condition, because he is wrapped in armour enough to withstand my occasional lack of coordination, my lack of spacial awareness and the times when you just drop shit for no apparent reason. And there are the missed calls and the messages. A was so panicky that he wouldn't start cooking until he had heard from me. It is ridiculous what technology has done to us. We have to have contact or that person is in trouble. We have to have contact or something bad has happened.
What did we do before hand? Did parents really panic and worry every single second of the day because they didn't know your exact whereabouts? Did boyfriends and girlfriends, partners or spouses, panic about who was doing the shopping for the evening meal, or who was going to be back first, or where you were and what you were doing? No, you decided these things before you left the house, or you left a note, or you called them on the landline. And if there was an issue, then you found a pay phone, or you were just late back and then you explained the reason, or made an excuse.
We should try some experiments. Turn your phone off for a couple of hours, or refuse to answer messages and see what happens. Am I just cruel? Or would that be a lot of fun?
Rants out.
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
2 Gigs in a Week, Scrooge and Holes in the Ceiling.
Hello Rants Readers. After my favourite month of October, a little jaunt to Salem for a Halloween Ball, and only just taking the Halloween decorations down, I have definitely been avoiding all talks of that other holiday, creeping up on us, though I think it's been not-so-subtly-stalking us since August. There is a definite Scrooge-like mentality growing within me. I'm sick of it already and it's not even happened. It's all too much for one day. And I know most people will disagree but I'm counting on at least one fellow Scrooge out there. Bah Humbug.
So last week I attended two gigs in a week. I know. It's like I'm twenty all over again. But guess what? I'm not twenty anymore and boy was that exhausting. Two late nights. Ears buzzing from the speakers. Legs and back hurting from standing at Ally Pally to watch Nothing but Thieves. Voice hurting from my usual, must compete with entire band and amplifiers. But it means I've finally seen Florence and the Machine. Wow! Now that is the epitome of a voice filling a room. Amazing! And I've been involved in the unique and crazy atmosphere of Ally Pally. It will likely be the one and only time. Ha ha. But queuing for half an hour to get out of the venue and into the tube, before your 45 minute journey home really puts a downer on the evening. It's up there with returning from the airport after a trip. A grumpy Rants ensues. And I was always too sensible for a mosh pit, so that hasn't changed, I can report. The divide when the band said mosh pit, was hilarious. A group of us melded back into the shadows, whilst the sprightly, brave ones tore forwards to injure themselves and others.
I think today may be the official school trip day of North London. Every single tube was filled with at least two different school's worth of children. Now, I love working with kids, but travelling with them to then teach more of them, is a bit much. Does anyone else deflate a little when they spy a class of teeny, high-vis vest wearing youngsters, trailing into the tube station?
The building work has finally started inside Flat 19 and so far it involves lots of holes in the ceiling. I'm pretty sure I'm going to come home one day and there will be one big hole and I'll be able to wave at the upstairs neighbours. We spent a lot of the weekend, moving and boxing up books and shelving units that would be otherwise in the way. So the bedroom now houses these as well as a make shift work area for me and all the instruments I'll need for classes, so that I don't have to disturb the builders. But living out of one room is tough, especially when you partly work from home. Another annoying thing is that you never know when they're actually going to be there, so I arrived home from class today and no one was there, but the same happened yesterday and just as I settled on the couch to eat my soup and catch up with Strictly, the door bell rang. So who knows when they'll be back today? Still, at least they are keeping everything neat and tidy - at the moment - which is nice.
One more thing before I go. There was a film out a couple of weeks back called: The Hate You Give, based on a book of the same title by Angie Thomas. It is a fantastic novel and the film was so well done. My partner came with me who had no idea what it was about and he loved it. And despite it being based on a YA novel, this is a film for all ages, because the topic is current and necessary and, without giving too much away, we are talking white cop shoots a black teenager for no reason. The cast is phenomenal and I urge you to check it out if it is still on at your local cinema, because I really feel that it was not given enough screen time, especially in London. We had been seeing trailers for it for months, so expected a mass of showings at different cinemas and different times, and after only having been out two days, the film was only showing in the middle of the day and one cinema close to us had one evening showing, which we managed to get ourselves to. But some of the tosh that was on, and that is kept on for weeks on end, yet such an on point and significant film that is actually stupendous in its own right, was hardly given a chance.
I've been meaning to rant about that for a while, because if you look on Rotten Tomatoes, The Hate You Give has 97% and Venom - for instance, which was out at the same time - had about 30%, yet Venom was on for at least a month, with multiple showings a day, in every cinema in central London. I think more space needs to be made for smaller films, indie films and films that are actually good, rather than some of the tosh and massive blockbusters that have no real story and no life to them. Again, this weekend we watched Widows (91%), which is fantastic and has a brilliant female cast, and I know it's been out a couple of weeks, but things like The Crimes of Grindelwald - which is pants - and Robin Hood (17%) - again with very low scores and bad reviews, have so many more showings. I realise it's the way the world works with mass consumption and Hollywood and advertising and all the rest, but I really thing the smaller films don't need to be confined to art house cinemas or put on at silly times, they should be given residence in the central cinema chains, giving the public more of a choice and these films more of a chance.
Okay, I need to get off now. Lunch time approaches and probably the builders. Those holes won't make themselves.
Rants out. Thanks for reading.
So last week I attended two gigs in a week. I know. It's like I'm twenty all over again. But guess what? I'm not twenty anymore and boy was that exhausting. Two late nights. Ears buzzing from the speakers. Legs and back hurting from standing at Ally Pally to watch Nothing but Thieves. Voice hurting from my usual, must compete with entire band and amplifiers. But it means I've finally seen Florence and the Machine. Wow! Now that is the epitome of a voice filling a room. Amazing! And I've been involved in the unique and crazy atmosphere of Ally Pally. It will likely be the one and only time. Ha ha. But queuing for half an hour to get out of the venue and into the tube, before your 45 minute journey home really puts a downer on the evening. It's up there with returning from the airport after a trip. A grumpy Rants ensues. And I was always too sensible for a mosh pit, so that hasn't changed, I can report. The divide when the band said mosh pit, was hilarious. A group of us melded back into the shadows, whilst the sprightly, brave ones tore forwards to injure themselves and others.
I think today may be the official school trip day of North London. Every single tube was filled with at least two different school's worth of children. Now, I love working with kids, but travelling with them to then teach more of them, is a bit much. Does anyone else deflate a little when they spy a class of teeny, high-vis vest wearing youngsters, trailing into the tube station?
The building work has finally started inside Flat 19 and so far it involves lots of holes in the ceiling. I'm pretty sure I'm going to come home one day and there will be one big hole and I'll be able to wave at the upstairs neighbours. We spent a lot of the weekend, moving and boxing up books and shelving units that would be otherwise in the way. So the bedroom now houses these as well as a make shift work area for me and all the instruments I'll need for classes, so that I don't have to disturb the builders. But living out of one room is tough, especially when you partly work from home. Another annoying thing is that you never know when they're actually going to be there, so I arrived home from class today and no one was there, but the same happened yesterday and just as I settled on the couch to eat my soup and catch up with Strictly, the door bell rang. So who knows when they'll be back today? Still, at least they are keeping everything neat and tidy - at the moment - which is nice.
One more thing before I go. There was a film out a couple of weeks back called: The Hate You Give, based on a book of the same title by Angie Thomas. It is a fantastic novel and the film was so well done. My partner came with me who had no idea what it was about and he loved it. And despite it being based on a YA novel, this is a film for all ages, because the topic is current and necessary and, without giving too much away, we are talking white cop shoots a black teenager for no reason. The cast is phenomenal and I urge you to check it out if it is still on at your local cinema, because I really feel that it was not given enough screen time, especially in London. We had been seeing trailers for it for months, so expected a mass of showings at different cinemas and different times, and after only having been out two days, the film was only showing in the middle of the day and one cinema close to us had one evening showing, which we managed to get ourselves to. But some of the tosh that was on, and that is kept on for weeks on end, yet such an on point and significant film that is actually stupendous in its own right, was hardly given a chance.
I've been meaning to rant about that for a while, because if you look on Rotten Tomatoes, The Hate You Give has 97% and Venom - for instance, which was out at the same time - had about 30%, yet Venom was on for at least a month, with multiple showings a day, in every cinema in central London. I think more space needs to be made for smaller films, indie films and films that are actually good, rather than some of the tosh and massive blockbusters that have no real story and no life to them. Again, this weekend we watched Widows (91%), which is fantastic and has a brilliant female cast, and I know it's been out a couple of weeks, but things like The Crimes of Grindelwald - which is pants - and Robin Hood (17%) - again with very low scores and bad reviews, have so many more showings. I realise it's the way the world works with mass consumption and Hollywood and advertising and all the rest, but I really thing the smaller films don't need to be confined to art house cinemas or put on at silly times, they should be given residence in the central cinema chains, giving the public more of a choice and these films more of a chance.
Okay, I need to get off now. Lunch time approaches and probably the builders. Those holes won't make themselves.
Rants out. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
A Little Bit Of Self Sabotage Goes A Long Way.
How the feck is it October? Sorry, I mean, hi Rants readers. But seriously, how is it October? September was supposed to be submission September. I coined the term myself - that's probably not true, but in my head it was - and I was pleased with the alliteration. However, September has come and gone and I have not made another submission yet. Mainly because I decided to re-write half the book when I should have just been writing synopses.
Ah, self sabotage. Turns out I'm really good at it. I set myself a target and as that approaches, instead of knuckling down and pulling all-nighters and killing myself for that self-made deadline, I just let it fritter away. I decide I hate everything and let the doubt donkey in - see my blog: The Donkey, Monsters and The Jumping Snake, from 18/7/13 for more information on the doubt donkey. And I know I can't write a synopsis, and that's why I do this every pissing time, but just deciding everything is crap and ignoring it is never going to get this sodding book finished and submitted. I really know how to make myself angry.
I tried reading lots of blog posts and advice on writing synopses. I also wrote three or four and started editing them, but then two days later thought they were the biggest pile of drivel I'd ever read. I swear my will power used to be much stronger and that I used to be able to tell the doubt donkey to kindly fuck himself, but recently it's like he's in control and it's annoying to say the least. Sometimes I wish a giant would come and pick me up and shake all this nonsense out of me and then I would have more belief in myself, but alas I think that option is unlikely.
It's true that once one thing in your life is going well, other things are going to fall apart dramatically, it's just sad that it has to be my writing, or more precisely, my own belief in my writing ability, that had to be the one to take a hit. Italian classes are going well. Most of my music classes are going well and therefore, my submissions are at a standstill. I write myself lists and do everything on the list but completing a synopsis. I am sabotaging myself and it has to stop!
On another completely unrelated note, I started watching Killing Eve last night and it's amazing! The writing is spectacular and the cast is phenomenal. It is always a delight to recognise fantastic writing within a TV programme. Also, if you're not already watching Atypical on Netflix, go for it, it's brilliant. But I can safely say the Season 2 finale is complete with one of the best rants ever! Paige's rage is superbly written and acted.
Well, I should probably be writing synopses but instead I'm writing this. And now I'm hungry. Maybe I'll just grab an early lunch. But wait, there I go again. Self sabotage.
Argh!
Rants.
Ah, self sabotage. Turns out I'm really good at it. I set myself a target and as that approaches, instead of knuckling down and pulling all-nighters and killing myself for that self-made deadline, I just let it fritter away. I decide I hate everything and let the doubt donkey in - see my blog: The Donkey, Monsters and The Jumping Snake, from 18/7/13 for more information on the doubt donkey. And I know I can't write a synopsis, and that's why I do this every pissing time, but just deciding everything is crap and ignoring it is never going to get this sodding book finished and submitted. I really know how to make myself angry.
I tried reading lots of blog posts and advice on writing synopses. I also wrote three or four and started editing them, but then two days later thought they were the biggest pile of drivel I'd ever read. I swear my will power used to be much stronger and that I used to be able to tell the doubt donkey to kindly fuck himself, but recently it's like he's in control and it's annoying to say the least. Sometimes I wish a giant would come and pick me up and shake all this nonsense out of me and then I would have more belief in myself, but alas I think that option is unlikely.
It's true that once one thing in your life is going well, other things are going to fall apart dramatically, it's just sad that it has to be my writing, or more precisely, my own belief in my writing ability, that had to be the one to take a hit. Italian classes are going well. Most of my music classes are going well and therefore, my submissions are at a standstill. I write myself lists and do everything on the list but completing a synopsis. I am sabotaging myself and it has to stop!
On another completely unrelated note, I started watching Killing Eve last night and it's amazing! The writing is spectacular and the cast is phenomenal. It is always a delight to recognise fantastic writing within a TV programme. Also, if you're not already watching Atypical on Netflix, go for it, it's brilliant. But I can safely say the Season 2 finale is complete with one of the best rants ever! Paige's rage is superbly written and acted.
Well, I should probably be writing synopses but instead I'm writing this. And now I'm hungry. Maybe I'll just grab an early lunch. But wait, there I go again. Self sabotage.
Argh!
Rants.
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