Butcher bird seeks inspiration at HOP Snr
I’ve been devouring books. I literally ate a couple the other day thinking they were rice cakes. Honestly, I sort of switch off at lunchtime. It’s the meal I have because it’s halfway to gin and tonic time and one must keep up one’s strength. Noosa Library is a very excellent place for books which is lovely because they are far too expensive to buy here. It occasionally exhibits pretensions beyond its station – like parking Lambrettas and Fiat Bambinos in its foyer to signify Italian month. I would have been perfectly happy with a complimentary glass of pinot grigio and a slice of pepperoni pizza. Besides, I had a rather unpleasant experience in a Fiat Bambino in Rome once which involved the large and morose jilted lover of a friend I’d gone to visit (who had scarpered without warning), and some extremely narrow cobbled streets. Suffice to say my backside was never the same again.
When I wrote The Way of the Pear, I wanted to create a female character in the tradition of Rabbit Angstrom and Ignatius C Reilly. I don’t know whether it’s because she’s the wrong gender or just in the wrong time, but Heather doesn’t come across like that to most of the kind people who have read some or all of Pear. Only one person truly saw Heather the way I thought I had portrayed her, (Yo Jim!). Of course it could just be the way I write but, judging by what the people who most disliked her said, there was a general refusal to accept a woman behaving like this. Heather rather pugnaciously takes it upon herself to challenge the world as opposed to merely being frustrated by it or quietly scheming to manipulate it to her will.
Now all this talk about books has made me hungry and it’s G&T time…