01 April 2015

I'm blaming it all on my mother...


Which is partly unfair, but partly it's because when she comes over, we always spend lots of time trawling in charity shops, home of poor, lost, abandoned, lonely books...

One of these is actually Sarah's fault (the Patrick Ness) and I'm sure I've read If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things before, though I can't remember it well (just searched my blog and apparently it was my postal book group book back in October 2004) and would like to read it again. Another Patrick Gale, who I'm very fond of (similar edition to one I bought the other day; think they might have issued some as book group editions or something) and I've heard lots about the Tractors in Ukrainian book. The other, I admit to plucking from the shelf entirely based on the title... I can't be the only one who does this, surely - I LOVE a good title on a book. Not to mention judging a book by its cover, but we don't need to get into that...

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