The Casual Vacancy

I've read The Casual Vacancy. In April, we found out the title of the book, leading to heavy speculation regarding what it would be about. "It's not for children!" was bandied about quite a lot.

And it's not. It's very much the anti-thesis to Harry Potter. 

But I'd be disappointed in anyone who says J.K Rowling can't write after reading it. I can see why it might not be everyone's cup of tea; it's brutal and bleak and distinctly non-magical. There are no miracles in this book. The lines between good and 'evil' are heavily blurred. But then, 'evil', in this context at least, is quite subjective. I suspect most evil-doers aren't consciously committing acts of evil, particularly the ones in this story. After all, everyone is the hero in their own story, and nowhere is that more apparent than in the shallow but idyllic village of Pagford. Beautiful, historic Pagford with its rolling fields and quaint cottages. And its poverty-ridden council estate. 


And there is the crux of the book; all of the action contained within boils down to the problem of the Fields council estate. Pagford, sadly understandably, doesn't want it. They don't want to pay for it, they don't want the children that live there in their schools, or on their streets. But then Yarvil, the neighbouring 'big town'  doesn't want it either. Barry Fairbrother, a former Fields boy-gone-good, thinks that with the right help, everyone from the Fields has a shot at a decent, educated and drug-free life. The Parish Council strongly disagrees. So when poor old Barry drops dead on his wedding anniversary, battle lines are drawn between those want to continue Barry's fight and those who want nothing more than to fence off the Fields from their beloved village.

It's a winding sort of book; I realised three-quarters of the way through that I'd been cleverly drawn into a web of deceit and anger, without even noticing it. Characters are introduced rapidly, at first it can be hard to keep up with the myriad of personalities and their foibles, but at some point it just clicked and I felt as though I lived in the village, and was watching the events unfold alongside the cast, albeit with a lot more foresight than they had. 

And then I realised I didn't particularly like any of the characters. There were a few I didn't dislike, as such, and a few I outright wanted to slap, but none I felt a true connection with and that phased me at first. I'd always believed that one of the first rules of writing a successful story was to create an engaging character, someone you could see with qualities similar to your own, a hero or heroine to connect with, if you will. I'd always thought that you had to see through their eyes to be able to endure their struggles with the appropriate amount of understanding. 

But there is no-one in this book I truly connected with and yet I really enjoyed it. It was bitter-sweet to watch these lives unfold, to see how it spiraled out of control, how little things added up to make big things. I saw it head, ever swiftly, towards disaster and observed the minutiae of the characters' worlds exposed, literally in some cases. Some of their struggles, their dreams seemed so petty, some seemed almost ludicrous in their ambitiousness. This book goes beyond the characters to tell a story and it's the first time I've experienced that. But I wanted more. I marathoned through the book, and had that sense of delicious bleakness at the end that comes when you've left a bit of yourself inside the world you've just left. There were tears, and most bizarrely, the tears stemmed from a sense of impotent guilt, that I'd seen this coming, I knew the whole story and yet could do nothing to stop it from reaching the inevitable climax. In that, I think for the first time I made some connection with the characters. That I stood with them, aghast at my inability to do anything. And equally, at the end I closed the book and walked away, relatively unscathed, just as a lot of them did too. 

It's an uncanny, honest and fairly ugly depiction of the human condition at its worst, exposing all of the pettiness and greed that people harbour inside themselves when they forget they're just a small cog in a big machine, when they become or try to become insular and independant. But there is also hope. The Casual Vacancy comes chock-full of hope, and that's what makes it so compelling, in my opinion. That each character, for all their faults, dreams of it getting better, in whatever way they can.

It really is a good book. 

Best of all, my copy is signed by the lady herself! I was lucky enough to have secured tickets to go to the launch of A Casual Vacancy at the Southbank Centre on Thursday 27th September. After falling down the stairs and nearly killing myself (Ha, like that would've stopped me) Jules and I made our way into London, said hello to the usual suspects and settled in for a giddy evening listening the woman who is mostly responsible, however indirectly, for me being the person I am.


I won't bore you with the platitudes of it, but I did get emotional, in both the teary and the beaming sorts of ways, and I did manage to blurt a very heartfelt 'Thank you', at Jo when she was signing my book (she was drinking white wine, we should be best friends. I knew it). I was also 'quoted' in an (ahem) Daily Mirror article about it. By 'quoted', I mean they used a tweet which said I'd got the book, and the accompanying photo, and tweeted back at me to say they'd used them. Ah, the wonders of journalism.

A video can be seen here of the event, which featured a short reading, Jo being interviewed about the book, another reading and then questions from the audience. I did wave my hand about a bit, but was sadly not chosen, so instead I asked my question to anyone who stood vaguely near me in the queue. No-one knew the answer. Or they didn't care because why am I talking to them when J.K-blinking-Rowling is just over there...

It was an amazing night. I'm still in the phase where I'm clutching it to my heart a bit, being a little cagey about it because I'm still not 100% convinced it happened. But it did. And I was there. And I've read the book and I liked it. I liked it very, very much. 

The Making of Harry Potter

It's been an action-packed few weeks. Lots has been done and lots is to come. Firstly... I SAW FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE!

I'm a bit in lesbians with Flo. By a bit, I mean COMPLETELY, UTTERLY AND IRREVOCABLY.

She has the most amazing voice, style and panache. She's beautiful. 'No light, No light' from her second album, Ceremonials, is the most perfect song in my world at the moment. Since buying the album on October 31st, iTunes informs me I've now listened to it 403 times... Reasonable until I explain that I don't listen to my iPod every day. Usually when I'm travelling. So the 3.8 plays daily average is a lot scarier than it first seems. Still, it keeps me happy.

Pris and I went to see her in Brum, meeting up with Fran, Kirsty and Beth there. We had to drink our wine out of plastic pint glasses but I did get to buy a tea-cup and she played 'No light, No light,' as her second-to-last song and I did some happy tears and it was perfect. 

After Flo and some much needed fun-times with Pris, I headed home for a few hours to repack a suitcase before heading off to Surrey for a night, followed by a road trip to The Wirral to celebrate Ellie's birthday. It was pure bliss to have so many of my favourite people together in one place, last time it happened was Florida last July, so this was a rare treat. Though I'm hoping it doesn't stay a treat and we get to do it more, so much so that I start to take those beautiful people for granted.


Last week saw me, SophieSoph and Kat venturing into the past (and there actually was a TARDIS, no joke) and going to experience life in the Blitz, at the Winston Churchill War Museum by London Bridge. Soph and I are native City of Villains kids, so we're quite WW2 savvy, popping a gasmask on and scooting under a table when the air-raid siren goes off is all in a days work for us. We followed up Victory by seeking out crushing defeat, heading to the casino. I popped my complimentary £10 chip on the roulette wheel... And lost. So we got cake and went to the pub.


A couple of days later, I was awake at 5.30am... Because finally, after almost 5 months of waiting, it was time to go to Leavesden to The Making of Harry Potter at Leavesden Studios.


The point of this isn't to give you a step-by-step guide to it, as I'm hoping you'll eventually go and see for yourself just how amazing it is. But if you're a fan of the world of Hazza P, you'll love it.


Most of all though, I think it's a beautiful standing tribute to the people we never got to see on screen. So often, we focus on the actors and their performances, occasionally bashing directorial decisions or script changes, but we fail to appreciate the other miracles happening on screen. Thousands and thousands of props were created for the series, hours spent designing and painting things which, at best, might only be seen on screen for a split second. 

Actual chocolate

Since visiting Leavesden, I've realised that for every complaint I've made about the films, I should have been making three compliments, making a note of objects in the background, or how realistic a puppet was. I'm really excited to watch them all again now, to better appreciate the costumes and the detail that was added to them. Hours and hours spent covering phone books in leather, embossing letters, adding labels to bottles for when a camera pans past them swiftly. Things which were made, like Lily's letter to Sirius, but never included. The chocolate feast, some items made from real chocolate. The hundreds and hundreds of little touches, that make the Harry Potter series really magical. 

We won't be crashing into the Whomping Willow
and that's why our insurance is lower.

At the same time as discovering things you've never seen before, you can't look anywhere without seeing something you recognise. By the end of the day, my stomach ached from all the pangs I had when I saw something I knew. Big things, like the door to the Chamber of Secrets, the Knight Bus, the basilisk skeleton. Small things, like Umbridge's amazing cat brooch, Scabior's scarf, Luna's Dirigible Plum earrings. It was a trip down memory lane...

Not to be confused with the actual trip down memory lane that is Diagon Alley. It genuinely bought tears to my eyes and not just because I'm an insanely sappy fangirl. 

But because it's so real. Despite numerous reminders that we were on sound stages, it didn't click until we'd left and were on the red carpet watching the actors go back inside. Then I remembered that I hadn't just been to Hogwarts, or Diagon Alley, but to a workplace, where the cream of the British film industry spent ten years making miracles. 

I'm so excited to go back, I've booked to go again on 31st July, for Harry and JK Rowling's birthdays. And, best of all, because we were rushed from the gift shop at the end, WB have very generously comped us free tickets to go back! I would urge all Harry Potter fans to go, it is expensive but it's so worth it. And they have Butterbeer. Actual Butterbeer. It was beautiful.


I know there's stuff I didn't see there, stuff I need to see again, stuff I want to spend hours staring at. At the moment, the exhibit will be there until 2013, when it may be expanded to include more things, or removed to make Leavesden operational again. Go, before that happens. You won't regret it. It's one of two places in the world where you can step inside a book. And that's kind of all nerds want.

A Scandal in Bohemia

Hello!

It's been AGES - AGAIN - since I've done a blog, so please insert the usual apologies about being a slack git in here <sorrysorrybegforgivenesspleaforabsolutionetc> In my defence, I've been very busy though. I've been to Baker Street (twice -more on that later) and to Ireland and I've been working on the jewellery making and expanding my repertoire and client base (that's wanky talk for made some new stuffs and doing a craft fair).

But the most exciting thing I've done has been go to Prague. On my own. For four whole days and five whole nights.

I was at work a couple of weeks ago and I realised I was about to have a fortnight off. With very little planned, other than staying in bed watching Sherlock. And that I was sorely in need of an adventure. So, I had a gander at lastminute.com and found I could fly to Prague for 5 nights for less than £200. I booked it exactly a week before my flight was due to take off.

Got some new dresses, got some Czech crowns, Googled the Metro map and the location of the closest zoo and I was off. Flying with the hilariously named Wizz Air.

On the plane, I realised I might have just made a pretty big mistake. Because I could have gone to visit friends in Ireland, Germany, Norway or Sweden. Instead, I'd booked a stay in a place I'd never been, where I knew no-one and where I didn't speak the language. Alone. Add this to the numerous warnings I got about the local police and pick-pockets and I was beginning to wish I'd packed more books and less clothes. Because if worse came to worst, I could always sit in the hotel drinking wine and reading.

Thank God I didn't pack more books.

I got to the airport and met my driver, who agreed to let me take his photo with the sign saying he was there for me. (My whole life, it's been on my Bucket List to have someone meet me at an airport with a sign with my name on it. I nearly had one in San Francisco, but due to an early landing plane and my desperation to get out of the airport, my friends didn't have time to unfurl the amazing banner they'd made to welcome me. Though I still have it. Anyway...). He was sweet enough to let me take his photo holding it. And then we got in the car and he said 'Let's go home'. And I was in love.

There was a mint on my pillow in the hotel, which is a sign of quality in my book. I'm not joking, I love a pillow mint. I had my wine from Duty Free, my pillow mint and The Bodyguard dubbed in Czech on the telly. It was perfect.

St Vitus' Cathedral

Day one saw me tentatively wandering around Hradcany for a bit, looking at pretty, pretty palaces and the literally awesome St Vitus' Cathedral. I can't read maps to save my life, so I tend to just stride around, trying to look like I know where I'm going. This is a good tactic for anywhere, by the way. Just stride forward purposefully.  It works. And it enabled me to build up a smashing mind-map of the Castle District. I then headed down the Karlov Most (Charles Bridge to you lot) planning to go and have a look around town... And I accidentally wandered into the Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments. 

Which put paid to my lunch ideas.

I also visited the Waxwork Museum (sucked in by Harry Potter in the window), found Baker Street, Praha and had a good old wander. Best of all, they sell hot wine on the streets for around 40czk. So I got to have mulled wine while I gallivanted about. As the sun went down I headed back to Hradcany, before trekking out to the Monastery to have dinner in a cave (Peklo). Not just any cave, but a cave Brangelina rather like. And Timothy Dalton. Get me. It was delicious and I had the Svíčková na smetaně – filet mignon s poctivou smetanovo-zeleninovou omáčkou, karlovarským knedlíkem a divokými brusinkami. Followed by the Domácí doboš s pistáciovou zmrzlinou a karamelem. Yum. And I tried some of Grandma's Herbal Liquor. Which was nice too. 

Day two saw me scrap my plans to head out to Kutna Hora, in favour of further explorations of central Prague and a foray into New Town. I went to have a mooch around the Jewish Quarter and then headed over to Wenceslas Square. I bought Chamber of Secrets in Czech (as tradition now dictates, I must return from a trip to a new place with a native copy of Harry Potter). I found a tucked away vintage paradise and proceeded to spend a happy hour trying on all manner of frocks and jackets. As I went to pay for my bounty, the lady spoke to me in Czech. When I apologised, she tried again in English, asking me if I would still be in Prague on the 1st of March. I thought she meant that must be the latest I could return the jacket I was buying, so I said no and that I wouldn't need to bring it back. She laughed and said "No, no... I want you to catwalk for me. We are doing a show and you would be good in it."

CUE MASSIVE SMUGFACED GRIN LASTING THE REST OF THE DAY.

I need to move to Europe. Seriously. I'm so under-appreciated in this country.

Dinner that night was in a pretty little restaurant around the corner. And afterwards... Feeling very brave... I went for a stroll.

Prague at night is beautiful. Despite the unfamiliar terrain, the winding corners and alleys, I felt completely safe. It's so well lit and peaceful that I was comfortable just exploring quietly. I found a late-night shop, bought a bottle of wine and was about to head back to the hotel when I turned a corner and found myself in front of the Loretta, which is where all the Weeping Angels in Prague hang out. I should point out at this point in time, I'm also wearing a deerstalker.

So there I am, bottle of wine in one hand, camera in the other, deerstalker on my bonce, exploring the grounds of this beautiful church, when I realise there is a car behind me. It was the fuzz! Shit - I thought - they're going to come and ask for my passport and take it from me and charge me a million crowns to get it back. And they might take my wine. And my hat...

They drove on.

Which was kind of the theme for all of my encounters with the law. Unless you were doing a crime, they didn't care. There are a lot of police about, they patrol everywhere but they're not the demons the Internet led me to believe they were. So, sorry to the police of Prague. Thanks for not being corrupt. You're doing a cracking job.

Day three saw me venture out to Kutna Hora to go to Sedluc Ossuary, which is this amazing church that houses the bones of around 40,000 people. On display. As art. This was an exciting day for me as it meant I'd get my first go at using the Prague Metro (which is like the Tube) and also the overground rail system...

EASY.

Seriously, it's so straightforward and well sign-posted that I felt almost cheated. I have moments on the Underground here where I get confused but they just don't let that happen. They signpost. There are helpful staff waiting to answer your questions. There are interactive information boards that tell you all about your trains. So I got on my train, sat in a Potter-esque compartment and read until we arrived in Kutna Hora. 

Inside the Ossuary it was much colder than it was outside. Whether this is because of the way it's built, or the psychosomatic effect of being inside a mass-grave, I don't know. It was eerily beautiful, strange, creepy and also serene. The bones are arranged so artfully, that after the initial feeling of being inside one of Giger's masturbatory fantasies, it was easy to appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone into arranging these remains into something spectacular. There's a funny thing about seeing so many bones arranged so prettily, you forget what it is you're looking at. You stop noticing ribs and start appreciating the way they curve into and over each other. It's a small church, but unforgettable from the moment you enter and see the huge chandelier of bones.

Following this, I headed back to the station, bought some coffee from a lady eating raw meat, and got my train back into Stare Mesto in time for the Ghost Tour!

I love a good ghost tour. They're invariably the least scary thing you can do with your time, but usually you get to hear a lot of fun stories, get some local background and get to explore parts of the city you can't normally. I chose this one because it included a tour of the vaults under the Astronomical Clock at Old Town Hall. And it didn't disappoint. Gruesome councillors, evil old women, hanged noblemen and burnt witches. And a mooch under the ground. All good clean fun. And it even snowed a little, justifying my buying a hot wine and some pastries for the journey home.

Wednesday was my last day and I decided to take a bus out to Prague zoo. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love a good zoo. I like to see the animals, animals I may never see in the wild (like otters - lol), animals that are now extinct in the wild. I like zoos with good conservation programmes. Prague zoo is therefore all the things and has /THE/ most diverse selection of animals I've ever seen at any single zoo.

I was going to go back to hotel after the zoo, to try and find somewhere to eat and get a good nights sleep before travelling back. But then I walked along the Charles Bridge and there was a Swing Party happening and I decided there was time for one last adventure. I found a street I'd not been along yet and lo and behold - A ghost museum.  With half-price entry to the Alchemy Museum if you bought tickets for both. I did.

Ghost museum was a lot of scary and wholly unbelievable stories from the days of yore, mixed in with some pretty hilarious waxworks. The Alchemy museum though... Beautifully done. Atmospheric, lots of real life text and examples and a guided tour of Edward Kelley's tower... Which is where the almost Scandal in Bohemia part of the blog comes in. But there is no scandal to speak of. Enough about that...

Dinner at the crazy medieval restaurant and then back to the hotel for one last night of Czech telly. At the party on Charles Bridge, I got a bit teary at the idea of going home. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to leave this pretty new land with its gorgeous architecture and myths and legends. I like Bohemia.

I'm so glad I went. For so many reasons. Because it was exciting to explore a new place, it was empowering to go out to dinner on my own, it was freeing to not have a schedule and to be able to travel at whim. I can't wait to do it again. I'm going to do it again. I foresee this being a thing I do a few times a year, just heading off at short notice to do something new.

Luckily, the sadness at having to come back did not last, as we had a Baker Street Adventure on Saturday. Myself and the Cumberbitches had breakfast at Speedy's, explored the museum, had a spot of lunch and then headed to St. Barts to re-enact The Fall. It's on video... If you're lucky, I'll share it with you.

And Sunday was my first proper craft fair, with an 100% muggle clientele! And it went well! I'd covered the cost of the table and taxi there in the first hour, trade picked up swiftly and people were lovely about the things I made. I made some new friends, ate a lot of cake, drank a lot of tea and had a spiffing time. More of that, please.

I think that about covers it. I really am the luckiest.

All parties should end with Riverdance

Well, since my last post I've been mired in a pit of debauchery. Or what passes for debauchery if you're a dork. So you can clear your mind of Byronic orgies and Satanic rituals. A lot of the debauchery involved tea. If you wanted something slightly more R-rated this is not the blog for you.

Last Monday I went over to London to spend some time with my new boss before heading over to my friend Rach's for tea. I would still swear now that my sole intention for the night was to have tea. I really meant it. I got there and Lizzy arrived and we had some tea and it was going nicely to plan. Then Rach mentioned she could make apple Martinis and had the ingredients... after 2 Lizzy and I decided that we should probably stay over... after 4 we decided the best thing to do would be stay up all night and watch films... then the rum came out. Why is it always the rum? We watched Sense and Sensibility, Pirates of the Caribbean, Hot Fuzz and something else and I had a very terrible case of Wizard Food Poisoning the next day. This necessitated sending people to make cups of tea which I couldn't drink and lying about on the sofa til 7pm when I managed to make my way back home.

And then it was Wednesday and I had to pack for Ireland and dye my hair... which finally happened at 1am in the morning because I was mooching on tinterweb and being a tit. When will I learn?

Ireland was ace. I love Cork. It's a brilliant city and it makes me smiley. Amy is also a brilliant host and I have never felt so cared for or welcome in my life; Tea, on the half hour, every half hour, delicious food and a comfy bed. It was bliss. Kylie arrived on the Friday and we got to go to Eddie Rockets for dinner (I have a big thing about diners - I love them) and then we went to Sin e. How I love Sin e. Last year we took up residence in there and spent a good deal of time and Euro there. So it was ace to be back and see how little has changed.

I even got to test my Sin e magic powers out and I've still got it! Last year, it was as though I was the most alluring and foxy creature to have ever existed. If I am attractive nowhere else in the world, I am a Goddess there. My latest conquests were named Padraig and Mumble. No sign of Liam though. Sadface.

Then it was Saturday and party day! We went over to Dunnes stores, which is a bit like what would happen if Marks and Spencers and Primark had a dirty fling and made a baby. It's got all the class (and produce) of a Marks's but with the nice prices of Primark. And a lot less child labour.

Kylie and I were responsible for cocktails and we had a list which was all planned out nicely... until we discovered you cannot buy Cream Soda in Ireland. You can get around 18 different types of lemonade but no Cream Soda. Which was essential for the Butterbeer. We also couldn't get pumpkin for the Pumpkin Juice. So in the end we decided just to use whatever we could find in the liquor cabinet and wing it.

We carried all of the liqour into the kitchen and then had a fun half an hour making cocktails and trying them. We made one called a Black Cat and a very odd kind of Firewhiskey but my favourite was the Chocolate Cauldron, which we made in honour of Amy.

To make your own Chocolate Cauldron you will need:

A jar of Nutella
Some Ice
Kahlua
Baileys

Pour a lot of Baileys and Kahlua into a blender. Add ice. Add three-four heaped tablespoons of Nutella and blend. Pour. Drink.

Trust me, it's nice. And Amy's dad said I could easily forge a career in cocktail making. So there you have it.

The party was brilliant, we were all dressed up as HP characters, I was Moaning Myrtle, Kylie was Lily, Amy was Hermione, Lucy was Luna, Mary was Tonks, Martha was Ginny... I think Aileen was Bellatrix and Amy's sister came as Amy's sister. But she is cool without a costume. We had crudites and fajitas and cake and icecream and meringues that Amy made herself (her meringues were frakking amazing) and then we danced!

Highlights include watching Luna give birth to the creepy Harry Potter doll Kylie had brought (not as creepy as good old Slasher, but creepy enough); everyone bar Martha doing Wuthering Heights and ending the party with Riverdance.

I'm not kidding.

Amy and Martha made us all line up and then do the Riverdance. And I'm not going to lie, we were good. Award winningly good.

Sunday we relaxed for a bit and then headed into town, where I bought PoA in the fancy new covers and sparked a whole plan* for the year. We had the best ever hot chocolate at O'Conaill's (seriously - milk and dark praline ALL THE WAY). We had a curry and then sat up doing jigsaws and chatting til around half 4. New plans were formed and it was all kinds of good.

Then home. Unhappy faces.

I've tried to spend this week being slightly less debauched and slightly more grown up, in preparation for work next week. I can get back to the debauchery after that - the day of Culture! has been planned and it's going to be fun.

So it's been a busy week. Lots of friends and fun and late nights and sleepy mornings and stuff that wasn't in the plan. But that's the best kind of stuff. I reckon, anyway. 

By the way - I also had my very first ever special 'massage' at airport security. The lady who caressed me had very soft hands and she was firm, but gentle. I thought afterwards we might go for dinner or see a movie but I guess it was not to be. I will tell you one thing though - they are bloody thorough.

And also thanks and kudos to Amy's dad who was the sweetest and most generous dad ever - especially when faced with a household of ladies. Ladies who like to sing a lot. He was a true hero.

Lucy as Luna, me as Moaning Myrtle, Kylie as Lily and Martha as Ginny.

*the plan is to buy a copy with a new cover on every adventure I go on - that way I'll collect them all and they'll all have fab memories of crazy times attached.