After finishing Holy Sh*t yesterday I treated myself to the Margaret Atwood book I got last year.

Holy Sh*t was really interesting. Detailing swearing from Roman times to the present day (English – US and UK) but this wasn’t a ¡novel, of course, being more of a history book. Great fun though and I learnt a lot.

But on to Margaret Atwood. There’s something about her writing. I feel that I could just read only her work, forever, if only she would write more – much, much more.

This was a collection of 9 short “tales”, each one different in almost every sense except one – they were about old people, more or less.

I’ve always liked “old people” things. Drawings, paintings, films, etc. The older the people, the better. And so, this was a wonderful book with wonderful tales.

This year I didn’t bring The Blind Assassin, my favourite book of all time – and now I wish I had.

Instead, I’ve started Fatal Voyage by Kathy Reichs – another book I think I’ve read before. Another one I probably didn’t put in the “books I’ve read” cupboard. *sigh*