Gods Behaving Badly - Marie Phillips

Marie Phillips and Terry Pratchett have both written about gods whose power wanes without believers, though the similarities between them really end there. In 'Gods Behaving Badly', Phillips describes the pantheon of Greek gods, but after a move to North London in massively straightened circumstances. With eternity to play with, the gods are bored and feisty, but nothing seems to be working out for them until a mortal cleaner comes along to tidy up their festering home.

I read this on a lazy Sunday, and it really fit my mood - I needed something humorous, original and well-written but not too taxing. I already knew a little about Greek gods (thank you Classics GCSE!), and the characterizations from the mythology seemed perfect, very human but exaggeratedly so. This lovely hard-back signed copy will find itself with a different owner on December 25th - I don't normally read presents in advance, just couldn't resist with this one -and I hope the recipient enjoys it as much as I did. And be impressed that I've bought some Christmas presents already, something that is normally reserved for December 23rd-ish...

Calling all book addicts

Waterstone's has just launched a loyalty card! Now it will be even easier to justify expanding my library...

Now I believe the hype...

I've been struggling with the structure of my WIP for a while, and it has been feeling more and more like a 1000 piece jigsaw of baked beans. Different forms have occurred to me, I've fiddled around with my ideas, jotted notes, mind mapped and gone back to the drawing board so many times that I was beginning to feel a bit down-hearted, and was contemplating pushing this to the bottom of my pile, and start on something new until it all fell into place. I've also cynically raised an eyebrow while watching the Virgin Trains advert about being inspired and having big ideas in their shiny red coaches (too many people wearing noisy headphones so the only inspiration I usually have involves cutting their wires with the scissors I luckily never have with me...). But this morning was different. I got on my train to work, sat down, read a few pages of my book and had my Big Idea. I know how to make it work. I think. (I hope)

Atonement - Ian McEwan

I'd been meaning to read this for ages, but had never got round to buying a copy. When I saw it in the Vintage Twins edition with 'What Maisie Knew' in a 3 for 2 at Waterstones I knew I could resist no longer. The opening evoked a parched summer which, for Briony, is without distraction other than her abortive play with her troubled cousins. On the brink of stumbling through the initiations of early adolescence, she knows enough to completely misunderstand every interaction she witnesses between her sister Cecelia and Robbie, an old friend. Her disastrous suppositions have grim repercussions, for which she still feels the need to atone many years later.

The pace of the writing is somewhat slower than many modern novels, taking in every thought fluttering through the protagonists' somewhat self-absorbed minds. The gradual building of momentum towards the key scenes can be a little frustrating - there's only so long you can peep through your fingers at the car crash you know is about to happen - but the tension keeps rising, and you do get there eventually, with the exquisite minutiae of the previous pages often increasing the impact. I'll be interested to see whether the forthcoming film, with its growing Oscar buzz, is faithful to the atmosphere of the novel, and the complex inner lives of its characters.

A wedding, three evensongs and a wild goose chase

Every year S and I spend a weekend singing at a cathedral with the fabulous Omega Consort, a gang of scattered old (and new) friends who meet to combine the joys of choral evensong and overindulgence. This year, we were based in Cheltenham but sang the services at Gloucester Cathedral. On Saturday, we had to duck out of rehearsals and miss the service to race down to Newbury for the wedding of an old schoolfriend. Our best-laid plans (picking up another friend on the way and using his hotel room for the final stages of getting ready) were scuppered by a misheard postcode and imprecise sat nav, which left us tearing round Berkshire desperately trying to find the right golf course, and being taunted by a succession of wedding cars. We arrived just in time, but had to stand at the back in what felt like the Naughty Corner due to a slight lack of spare seats. The stifling heat (what a shock!) was the only tiny flaw in an otherwise wonderful day. Although someone I know might disagree with me - he was pursued around the dance floor by a formidable lady who seemed to take the fact that he is gay as a rather amusing (for the rest of us) challenge that she would somehow overcome, possibly by wearing him down until he gave in just for some peace...

One Good Turn - Kate Atkinson

I've enjoyed all Kate Atkinson's books, especially the slightly surreal 'Human Croquet', but while 'One Good Turn' appears to be a more traditional crime novel it is quirky enough to fit in with the rest of her oeuvre. The murder mystery is enhanced by an unexpected twist in the final pages, but the real strength of the book is the range of point of view characters. For the first few chapters I did find it a little distracting, flitting from one character to the next, unsure as to whether the story had properly started (of course it had - the plot was deceptively tight), but once I had sorted out who was who it was satisfying to start making the little connections between the characters that were only hinted at in the text. I'm sure that there were plenty of overlaps that I missed, but I do love it when authors don't feel the need to spell out every subtle shade. It means that re-reading is almost more of a pleasure than the first time through, because you don't have to rush just to find out what happened.

Heaven

I defined my personal idea of heaven this weekend. It's the library at Chatsworth. Wall to wall books (many of which are ancient, rare and incredibly interesting), several squishy sofas, a grand piano, fireplace and plenty of friendly members of staff to make sure the ginger biscuits/coffee/gin never ran out.

While not fantasizing about the after-life, I also enjoyed looking around the exhibition about the 11th Duke of Devonshire, with a good audioguide which included interviews with friends, colleagues and his wife (Deborah, Dowager Duchess of Devonshire makes a daunting tongue-twister). 'Debo' is the only surviving Mitford sister, and numerous books about her fascinating family can be found in the well-stocked gift shops. Throughout the house paintings and photographs depict the Devonshire clan over many generations, and their art collection is pretty incredible, especially considering many gems had to be sold off to cover the 80% death duties when the 10th Duke died unexpectedly in 1950.

Though the weather wasn't particularly good (think November drizzle rather than August sun), the gardens were still lovely, with the low cloud eerily drawing in the horizon and damping down the noise of our fellow visitors. The variety of plants and settings is captivating, with an astonishing giant rockery of boulders and elaborate water features powered by gravity alone. A colleague tells me it is a spectacular place to visit at Christmas, with decorations everywhere, themed activities and music throughout, so I may have to try to persuade my little humbug S that a return visit would be fun, even if there may be Jolly People full of the dreaded Christmas Cheer around.