me: it's you who likes camilleri as a writer isn't it?
him: yeah, brilliant stuff
me: no it isn't. the prose is piss poor
him: no it's not
me: bang, a shot rang out
him: it's not like that
me: it's rubbish
him: well it's a good story
me: yeah that's what they said about the da vinci code
(final point to kumquat methinks)
So I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and will finish it. So far it's horrible stereotypes, repeated hyperbole and too many long winded sentences talking about the brother of the person who isn't actually at this conversation but would have been if it hadn't been for the sister of the inspectors...... zzzzzzz.
Still, I'm only on page 52 (!) and I have ridiculed many a good book at this stage only to end up loving it. At least I have a train journey tomorrow to kill. It's never going to rival the Palahniuk I read the book before last. Top flight american-quirky-weirdness. Fab.
So anyway, I can't believe I haven't told you about me smashing up my car. Darling Maddy has a scrumpled up bonnet and smashed lights on the driver side. I'm gutted. Also they can't mend her til 11th April. Traffic on the A1 backed up in front and a momentary lapse in concentration prevented me from stopping quite in time. I felt rather a fool but thankfully the owner of the car I went into went into was very nice about it. Just a bind. Something else to contend with this week.
Tomorrow should be fun. Regional AM mtg in London where I get to meet lots of my lovely friends and hopefully go out for drinks after we've humoured the senior staff by nodding in the right places. Right Phillie?
Oh that reminds me Phillie, you have to ask me about your latest member of staff arriving from the branch known as 'exile'. I have insider information. heh heh.