Breathing Just a Little

On Fridays, I plan to refresh a post from one of my older blogs that still seems material or relevant. I'm calling it "Everything Old is New Again Fridays", because why not? This post is from 27 September 2017 on my blog Too Fond of Books, written while sitting on the sand while my children and my friends' kids played in the water.  -------------------------------------------------------------------- Here, the spring is warm and full with blue-gold sun; The sea stretches, white-tipped, to the line of sky. Children dragooned into scenic walks plunge into the water, finally unfettered, like slick otters dancing. On the sand, toddlers dig and build, and a sarong-clad woman's phone plays Hallelujah. The afternoon wears on to Hallelujah threading silvered notes against the sun. The toddlers seem to know just what to build Above, cumulus wavers in the powder sky If you close your eyes you might see angels dancing bemused by joy, before the salty water. The purity of col...

did you know, he said idly, running his finger down the sleeve of a mint vinyl copy of Brothers in Arms at the record shop, that 1985 was 40 years ago. just think on it. there are people who are middle aged now who were babes in arms when it was 40 years ago, and I was eleven, all thin limbs and long sunburned nose and wavering voice, getting used to bleeding and hurting on the regular. (actually I already knew about hurting, long before, but the bleeding was new). I was eleven and a nerd, long before that was something to wear with honour in the outer suburbs, growing under the shadow of the ferny mountains and watching Val Kilmer movies with my best friend on VHS every Friday night, trekking to Blockbuster in our high-waisted jeans and poodle perms that were in fashion 40 years ago, and here I was, eleven, sitting in my parents' searingly hot car waiting for my mother to come out of the shops, window down a little crack, rolling the dial on the radio and finding Crazy for You and...

  At the outset, I should say that while I have read quite a lot of fiction set in the Roman Empire (both serious historical fiction and also a fair few mystery series), this is only the second non-fiction history of Rome I have ever read that goes past the death of Augustus, and the first one I can't even remember that well as I read it more than 30 years ago. Thus, I came to this book with a low base of reliable historiographical knowledge about the imperial period of Roman history (although to be fair, the better historical fictions do contain a fair amount of history!) I picked this one because I am a massive fan of Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook's podcast, The Rest is History, and I thought I might enjoy Holland's writings as much as I do his podcast work. I was not disappointed. I realise now that I probably shouldn't have started with book three of a three-book series, but honestly, it doesn't matter much because there is plenty in here to connect with. Th...

There is a category of book that I like to call "the goods, not the greats". These are books - can be in any genre - that are enjoyable, that succeed on one or two key axes, but have weaknesses that mean they either fail to meet their own potential or just don't land with me fully as a reader. They are books I often enjoy reading - once - but would never consider revisiting. This month, there have been two books that fit this bill for me: Graeme Macrae Burnet's historical mystery / thriller, Case Study, and Gareth Brown's fantasy thriller, The Book of Doors. My first introduction to this author was his 2015 novel His Bloody Project, which I read as part of my 2016 Booker Prize shortlist reading. I really, really liked that book, and thought it a significant literary achievement as well as being immensely engaging and readable. Case Study, which was on the Booker longlist in 2022 but didn't make the leap to the shortlist, is the second Burnet book I have read, ...

My old dog lies sick  sicker than we've ever seen him, even after the time he got the tiger snake bite when he was young and full of beans and stupidity  and used to chase anything that moved filled with the indignant hubris of the Jack Russell terrier that provided one half of his DNA he is sick, and the vets at the vet hospital  can't really tell us why: bloods "unremarkable", they say, which could be a good thing, except  he is still sick, his poor stomach seizing and cramping his cheerful old man energy dimmed to a faint flicker as he stares out of his rheumy eyes from his fleecy kennel bed emerging only to strain and strain at the grass  and drink thirstily from his water bowl he is sick, and he might have eaten something (although we can't think what) or he might have a virus or or bacteria (although we don't know how) or his organs might be closing down for the night as he sits in his great age and noses at twilight he is sick, and we are facing the tru...

On Fridays, I plan to refresh a post from one of my older blogs that still seems material or relevant. I'm calling it "Everything Old is New Again Fridays", because why not? This post is from 18 November 2018 on my blog Too Fond of Books, and reading it now fills me with a deep, powerful sense of saudade (the read-aloud days are well past now), but also delight at the memories of all those journeys my girls and I took together through stories. Of all my parenting decisions, making reading a central part of how I raised my kids is the one I am both proudest of and made the most enduringly happy by. ---------------------------------------------------- Having finished Dianna Wynne Jones' classic The Power of Three, my 9 year old and I have started on now started on Terry Pratchett's Wee Free Men for bedtime reading. I am going to profoundly miss it when she decides she is too old for shared reading. Reading to, and with, my girls has been hands down my favourite part...

I read a fair amount of serious / literary / thinky fiction and non-fiction, but I am also an avid reader of more relaxing, lightweight books, under the overarching umbrella that can best be described as "cosy". I read cosy crime, cosy mainstream fiction, cosy fantasy, cosy adventure, and (rarely, but occasionally) cosy romances. Sometimes that is what my brain and heart needs, and I'm more than OK with that. That said, even within the category of "cosy", there are good books and less-good books. I don't assess them on literary merit, but I do look for fresh, original and lively writing, vivid characters, engaging stories, and good pacing. I don't tend to enjoy stilted, shallow or excessively derivative writing, even in my cosy reading life. In January so far, I have read three cosies - two mysteries in the same series, and a cosy fantasy. To my mind, the mysteries were very successful examples of a great cosy, whereas the fantasy book really missed the ...

This is the last day of my 4 weeks of summer leave. It's back to work for me tomorrow (although this week will be a light one; not all my clients - I'm a freelancer - are back to full strength til after the long weekend, so I'm expecting to only do about 3 - 3.5 days worth of work rather than the full 5). It's been a pretty good time, and definitely had some wins in it. My eldest's surgery getting done and being a success has been a huge relief, and it was ideal that I was free to do the required running about and caretaking for that. I cleared off a bunch of medical/specialist appointments for me and the youngest kid too, which starts the year off fresh. My big kitchen clean-out, while not fully complete (I haven't tackled the pantry yet), has really transformed the experience of cooking and using the kitchen, and although I am sure it will devolve towards chaos again, starting from a clean baseline feels really positive. I have been able to do some creative pr...

On Fridays, I plan to refresh a post from one of my older blogs that still seems material or relevant. I'm calling it "Everything Old is New Again Fridays", because why not? This piece appeared on my blog Too Fond of Books on 18 June 2015. It's as true now as it was then. Living with Generalised Anxiety Disorder is not always a barrel of laughs, but it is doable (for me) thanks to these kinds of approaches. ----------------------------- If there is a thing that you are afraid of ... No, wait. First principles. If you an anxious person, there is always at least one, and usually many more than one, thing that you are worried about, or actively afraid of, at any given time. How dominant this worry or fear is depends on a lot of things, including, but not limited to, your state of physical health, the presence or absence of other life stressors, how much sleep you are getting, how diligently you are practising whatever combination of CBT / mindfulness / distraction / medi...

  Content note : This review and this book reference attempted sexual assault of an adult woman and the sexual abuse of children.  A lot of people adored this book (and it won the US's National Book Award, so critics did too), and I definitely understand why. It is a deeply engaged, sensitive, nuanced picture of Chicken Hill, Pottstown, Pennsylvania, a marginalised area in the US in the 1920s and 30s. It is primarily concerned with the ways in which different groups of people outside the white hegemony (primarily Black and Jewish people, but also southern European migrants and others) build their own community and their own connections. It is a story about how this patchwork community ultimately comes together to protect and save each other, with the linked focii being the liberation of a child in danger and the avenging of an egregious crime against one of their own. The genuine affection and curiosity that McBride, who himself has both Black and Jewish ancestry, brings to th...

I'm as appalled as anyone in the nerdisphere at the recent disclosures regarding a formerly beloved speculative fiction author. I responded poetically, as I often do. This is a Sevenling poem. Hero / Villain Three things that heroes gave us: dreams to live for, hope to live in,  a soft warm place of safety. Three things that villains prey on: hearts left open, trust without borders, the aching tenderness of the young. The mirror shows the same face, smiling back.

the cat's eyes glisten like jewelled stones in a river whiskers brush like ghosts

These three books are ones that I read in 2024, and all were in my top 10 for the year. I recommend each of them enthusiastically! There Are Rivers in the Sky by Elif Shafak: 9/10  "This is the story of one lost poem, two great rivers and three remarkable lives—all connected by a single drop of water." Engrossing, beautiful, and deeply upsetting in parts, this book is one of those stories that stays and stays in the mind and heart. Shafak's depth of understanding and profound empathy is given wing by her meticulous research and her brilliant writing talent. Detailed and fascinating, and also harrowing, descriptions of the ancient, modern and continuous worlds give this book a weight that belies the (in theory) whimsical connection of droplets of water. Water - specifically, the water of two great rivers, the Tigris and the Thames - is the motif, symbolic heart, and binding thread of the story. However, it is the ancient city of Nineveh (historical and modern) and its fame...

  I have been an admirer of the work of Canadian thinker and social critic, Naomi Klein, since her 2007 ground-breaking book, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism . That book changed permanently how I read news, interpret events (and political responses to them), and think about the world. In that sense, it would be fair to describe Klein as a key influence in the development of my own political, social and even historical thinking. (On that note, I have not yet read the book that first brought her into prominence, 1999's No Logo , but one thing I intend to do this year is to rectify that). Doppelganger is clearly cut from the same intellectual and philosophical cloth as Klein's earlier works (especially The Shock Doctrine and her 2014 book, This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs The Climate ), but takes a different, and more personal, approach to the big questions and big problems that beset the present moment. Klein's entry point, shaping theme, and key hoo...

On Fridays, I plan to refresh a post from one of my older blogs that still seems material or relevant. I'm calling it "Everything Old is New Again Fridays", because why not? This piece appeared on my blog Too Fond of Books in December 2015 (nine long years ago now). Although my circumstances have radically changed since then, I stand by the ideas. ---------------------------------- The Guardian is re-running links to some of its more popular pieces from 2015 as the year wends to an end. They've just relinked one about working mothers, which I remember well as it was published on my very last day of salaried employment - the very day, some would argue, that I ceased to be a role model of working motherhood to my three girls. As luck would have it, I have been able to build up a good freelance clientele since then and am close to fully employed (I average 4 days a week) in my own business. I didn't know that this would happen when I left my job, though, and I took t...

Here's the first poem I wrote this year, as part of my January Month of Poetry challenge. I always write an English Madrigal to see in the new year, have done for the past 12 or 13 years. As for all poems I post here, you're welcome to reproduce them in any way you like so long as you credit me and don't pass it off as your original work. An attribution "from Breathing Just a Little blog" is sufficient. New Year's Day Madrigal, 2025 The old year died in spitting puffs of light the sky transfixed in roses and in gold its pain all spent, its stories now all told. The page is blank, the hand is yet to write, the road ahead is waiting to unfold. Too soon to say if darkness will drown light, or morning will turn dry straw into gold. The year is born, both terrible and bright warm summer nights prefigure winter cold, what sleep we'll lose, what diamonds we will hold. May, stubbornly, we still reach for the light, and sift through all the silt to find the gold, a...

The first three books I've finished in 2025 have all been absolute bangers, although very different from each other! I feel like the year is off to a promising start in terms of literature, if nothing else. Playground by Richard Powers: 9/10 This is a slow burn of a novel, which is not surprising from Richard Powers (who has a knack for letting stories unfold at their own pace) but may cause some readers to find it a little unfocused, at least in the first quarter or so. I would urge everyone to stick with it though, because the pay-off is a thing of immense beauty and profundity. Ostensibly, this is a book about two main themes: oceanography (and more broadly, oceanic life) and artificial intelligence. And it delivers in spades on both these themes. The descriptions of ocean life, in all its variety and abundance and wild strange perfection, are incredibly moving and lyrical. I felt transported at times, a genuine frisson of being somewhere other than where I was, which is a marke...

I used to blog a lot.  In the heyday of the Australian blogosphere, I was prolific, both in how much I wrote and in how active I was in the community. When I was a parent of very young children, back in the mid-noughts and early 10s, blogging brought me joy and connection and delight.  Times changed, as times have a way of doing, and the rise of the socials meant a decline in the blogosphere and in engagement with blogs. That was alright; change is inevitable, and it's not always a bad thing. I enjoyed the early days of Twitter, along with many of my peers. I had a stop-start relationship with Facebook for years, but from about 2016, I have been a regular user, due mostly to a number of Groups I am in there which have been very important to me. I have Insta (albeit private) for photos. I was part of the post-Musk X-odus and have been paddling aroound on Threads since 2023. TikTok has, thus far, passed me by, which speaks to my generational profile as much as anything else. And...