L is still plodding her way through Reginald Hill’s Stranger House,
which I have convinced her to read as penance for putting me through Gillian Flynn’s awful Gone Girl. Which you will now note is a film. One I don’t think we’ll be seeing.
Gone Girl was a book with had an interesting concept but a terrible execution. I very quickly got tired of the unbelievable plot twists and the unlikeable characters. I suppose the clever thing is that somehow it managed to persuade me to keep reading it, in the hope that it might get better, as it meandered its slow torturous way to a totally absurd ending. Good luck with the film.
At least with Stranger House, I bought several bottles of sherry on the strength of it. They’re always knocking back the stuff in the book as the ‘heroine’ rants on about how mathematical coincidences are an equation that shouldn't be dismissed. Indeed...
Later I drop L at her folks’ place in Mickleover as I head off to dog class and I pick her up later from the Masons pub. Where she is being chaperoned by her brother. Which is all very sweet but she won’t be happy that she’s not been left alone to get some reading in.
(Wednesday 1st October)