Hello dear readers,
Just a quick newsletter this week and I’m even going to use subheadings to add to the speedy feel of it…
Watching: In the comments to last week’s newsletter, Nancy mentioned Lego Masters Australia. Left alone for the rest of my life with nothing but a television for entertainment, I still probably wouldn’t have picked this out, but as Nancy has introduced me to so many of my favourite things I was ready to take a chance. And reader, it is glorious. It’s basically The Great British Bake-Off, but for Lego building. Only better. I think partly because the contestants work in teams, and that dynamic is almost as compelling as the construction itself. From the two softly-spoken men who work on an oil rig, to a teenage boy and his grandmother, there’s just something curiously uplifting about seeing people working brilliantly together. And the things they build are breathtaking. I never excelled at Lego when my children were young and don’t really have any interest now…but somehow that’s irrelevant. It’s just the most wonderful show. And as Nancy told me, it absolutely MUST be the Australian edition, because the presenter adds so much with his dry (but very kind) sense of humour. It’s on All 4 (still Channel 4 in my head), so littered with ad breaks, but they’ve proved quite useful as there’s always so much to discuss. Thank you Nancy - you’ve done it again 👏💛🙏.
Listening: I’ve read quite a bit of Irish fiction lately and am still wanting for more, so when my dad recommended Donal Ryan’s The Queen of Dirt Island, I downloaded it with one of my final Audible credits for the year. After a brilliant opening chapter, I found it a struggle initally (my mum said she felt the same way). The narrative seemed to lack emotion and I didn’t find the characters overly likeable - as one who happily embraces conversational swearing, I’m not sure why I sometimes suddenly feel weirdly prim around written expletives, but I do. And the characters in The Queen of Dirt Island are endlessly foul-mouthed. Really, just endlessly. But I ploughed on1, and I’m so pleased I did, as I began to feel an increasing warmth towards them, and their swearing started to feel more necessary in reflecting who they were (hard exterior/softer beneath the surface). And in the end, I loved the tight-knit group of strong female characters and the affection they had for one another. And that this is a very feminist book written by a man. It also has a gorgeous cover that makes me wish it was now on my shelf.
Discovering: Tunbridge Wells has always lacked a really good independent book shop, so it was exciting when one opened here recently. The premise behind The Book Room is that they offer a curated selection, hand-picked by authors from within their own genre, with notes detailing why you might enjoy reading each book. As a shopping experience it’s lovely - there’s less choice, but it’s easier to pick something when everything has the feel of being on those main tables of temptation, rather than hidden away in indistinct rows of spines. I think owning a bookshop is probably a fascination to most people who love books, so on that basis you might enjoy Anna’s newsletter where she writes about the behind-the-scenes realities of setting one up from scratch - the logistics, decision-making, when to rotate author choices, how much stock to order in etc. You can find the archive and subscribe to the newsletter here:
. Or follow along with Anna’s book recommendations on Instagram (I think she does mail order too if you’re further afield). The Book Room is in Tunbridge Wells as a pop-up until Christmas, and will hopefully find its own premises with enough support (if you’re relatively local, it currently shares a space with The Bloom Foundry on the St John’s parade of shops, a ten minute walk from the town centre. There’s also a new independent jewellers there, a cheese shop, a record store, two lovely cafes, a bakery that stocks Italian treats, and most places are dog-friendly2. Am I selling it? I hope so :)Eating: These are one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. No words. Just the sound of a spoon bothering the sides of the glass trying to get out every last bit.
Adventing: I really love those advent calendars that are only the size of a greetings card, take up minimal shelf space, and don’t spread glitter everywhere (keeping the advent fun under tight control). I’ve enjoyed choosing these cosy rabbits from the gorgeous Closet & Botts in Lewes (a good place to shop for Christmas gifts); and this one featuring British birds designed by Molly Lemon Art, whose work I love.3 Nice, tidy Christmas fun ;)
Reading: Earlier in the week I finished Carol Shields’ The Stone Diaries - I absolutely loved the first two-thirds, but felt it unraveled towards the end. As the story followed the character from birth to death, in some ways the structure felt like it intentionally mirrored her slow decline in older age, but that awareness didn’t quite stop me from skim-reading my way through the final pages (Nb. This isn’t any reflection on how I feel about ageing - I adored Kent Haruf’s Our Souls at Night and the way he wrote about later life. (Nb. They’ve switched to a cover with a shot from the film. Don’t let that put you off. The film is excellent by the way, I just don’t want it on the book cover)). Yes, sometimes, you just need brackets within the brackets.
Earlier this week I stayed up late finishing We All Want Impossible Things by Catherine Newman. I don’t think I could love this book more - it has so much softness, sadness, humour, love, and loss all wrapped up in a messy bundle of wonderful characters. Although much of the novel is set in a hospice, it’s a warm and lively sort of book that will make you laugh out loud without detracting from the gravity of what’s being lost. If you partly loved Meg Mason’s Sorrow & Bliss for its humour and the relationship between the sisters, I think you’d probably enjoy We All Want Impossible Things for similar reasons, even though they’re very different books.
Restocking: It’s oddly satisfying when all my prints are in stock at the same time, and the stars (or just my own organisational skills) have currently aligned to make that happen. I’m also happy, and feeling less like a total spanner, to say that my prints now come signed - Hahnemühle’s German etching paper has this deliciously raw and unfinished look, but there’s actually a hidden coating that’s made it really hard to find a pencil that will write on it nicely. I considered using a pen, but that somehow felt too imposing as though I was trying to make myself indelible on people’s walls. But anyway, I’ve finally found a solution in amongst my son’s art supplies and it’s so good to have that problem solved. And I’ve bought two more of the pencil in question so that it can’t become unsolved :)
Planning: I’ve been thinking about making a winter coat, but am slightly paralysed at fabric choosing. I’m basing my pattern on a ready-to-wear puffer jacket that fits really well, but it’s tricky to think through which bits I might want to rework for it to look right when made up in a wool coating. I keep imagining it in this impractical4 but gorgeous fabric, when really I need to be focusing on something more like this…at which point my vision for it falls apart - I think it’s easier to make the mental leap from puffer to quilted cotton maybe.
Anyway, do let me know what you’ve been up to, with or without subheadings, in the comments.
With love, and thanks for reading,
Florence x
When I’ve read that back, I’m imagining the ploughing on as me literally in a snow plough with a slurry of expletives flying up around its wheels (or whatever a snow plough has - maybe it’s propelled by more of a conveyer belted thing).
The mention of dogs and shops has made me think of this book, which I only discovered recently. I’m not sure it’s available in the UK, but if you’re in the US, it’s all about the shop dogs at Ann Patchett’s bookshop, Parnassus Books (these are dogs who come to work with their owners, rather than customer’s dogs). I feel sure I’ve read about the shop dogs before - maybe it was in Ann’s most recent book of essays? - and this sounds like it goes into even more glorious detail. And it’s illustrated…
Years ago, I made my children a handmade advent calendar that we used to fill with chocolates, but actually, we all ended up missing the traditional pictures, and once they were older we kept eating chocolate from the days ahead whenever we got peckish for something sweet and then I’d have to replace them, so it didn’t really work out so well as a countdown (this is the kind of thing that can happen once your children reach a certain age and you feel sure their moral compass won’t be derailed by it ;)
Impractical only as a winter coat. For all other purposes, it would be glorious. I keep imagining my grandmother saying it would make a nice driving jacket - she always seemed to have a whole separate wardrobe for driving. Having covered less than 8,000 miles in the four years with my own car, I’m not sure this is going to require a dedicated costume though ;)
I can’t tell you how delighted I am to have finally found a fellow Lego Masters Australia fan! I have celebrated by treating myself to the gorgeous British bird advent calendar, which is pleasing in SO many ways (the absence of glitter being right at the top of the list). Thank you x
I grew up in Tunbridge Wells- 60’s/70’s and there were at least three good independent bookshops. In the High Street was Goulden and Curry’s, a family firm, I went to senior school with one of the grand daughters. It was where my mother took us to spend any book tokens we were given. I can see it now, children’s section up a winding staircase, very knowledgeable bookseller whose recommendation’s were always spot on and I still have many of the books brought there.
I now live down on the coast in East Sussex and since my parents have died and we sold the family house I never go to T Wells. So lovely to hear that once again a bookshop has found its home there.