Are you ready? Is your money lined up at the start line and ready to get you some books?! I SURE HOPE SO. It might be like mid-March but YA KNOW WHAT we’re still doing this. Because now you can buy half and pre-order half and this is what life is about. So let’s take a peep at alllllll the goodies coming at us this month. Continue reading
Due to my incredible capacity lately to get out content on time, I’ve managed to forget to do a book haul in January. So – oops! That means that yes! In March you shall now be delighted with the onslaught of two months worth of book hauls. Hold on to your hats and grab some crackers!
Well hello! I am writing to you from Cork, Ireland – how exciting! Well, not all 100% exciting if you read my previous post and know why I’m here. I’ve just settled in at my granddad’s place after approximately 2927161 hours of travelling to get here. Seriously, whew. What a lot of travelling. Which means I’ve got time to do some blogging and fill you in on how February went!
Howdy friends! Welcome back to a top ten Tuesday. As I went to write this post I noticed how yet again I’ve barely done anything but TTT each week *gasp*, well thank goodness for TTT or you’d all be in a Kirstie-less blogging hole. Whew. Continue reading
Today I want to a steal of a moment of your day to note the passing of my precious cat, Smartie. I wish I could bring happier news but I am so, so sad and am going to therefore unburden this grief in the only way a literary blogger can. I want to discuss some of the characters that have touched my life in ways that are comparable to how Smartie enriched mine.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with the juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and, with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin. Let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message: “He is dead!”
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves.
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my north, my south, my east and west,
My working week and Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can come to any good.