It's funny how sometimes I'll read a book by an author, love it, and then never read a book by that author again (ever, or at least for many years). Sometimes I don't even seek out the sequel of a book, even if I've adored the first one. I'm not sure what makes me do that, when other times I'll race to devour everything by a newly-discovered favourite author (*cough*NeilGaiman*coughcough*) or at least read and reread every book of a particular series.
Every once in a while it's because other books by an author turn out to be a disappointment.
One example that comes to mind is the Anne of Green Gables series by L. M. Montgomery. I love those books. I reread them all the time. I even complained about a recent reissue that failed to include both Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside.
At some point last year I re-realised that there were other Montgomery books out there. I think I read Kilmeny of the Orchard ages ago, but hadn't explored some of the other series. I ordered copies of Pat of Silver Bush and Mistress Pat from a secondhand bookstore, and started reading the first one...and I still haven't finished it. It was just so dull! There's my confession.
On the other hand, as part of its reissue of the Anne of Green Gables books this past spring, Sourcebooks are also issuing a series of "Forgotten Classics" by L. M. Montgomery, including The Blue Castle, A Tangled Web, Jane of Lantern Hill, Pat of Silver Bush, Mistress Pat and Magic for Marigold. I was lucky enough to get a review copy of Jane of Lantern Hill!
Such a sweet tale! Jane's a likeable, endearing heroine, and I really wish there was a sequel to this book featuring an older Jane. She doesn't get into quite the scrapes that Anne does, but has a few adventures of her own - including leading an escaped circus lion through the village and back to its owners. I love the easy bantering relationship between her and her father, and through them was reminded of an aspect of Canadian literature I haven't explored very well - habitant poetry, written by early French-Canadian settlers.
And at one point, Jane uses one of my favourite odd words - snoots.
I just realised the OED doesn't quite cover the definition that I know and have seen used - to give snoots, which is to stick one's nose in the air at someone.
The trouble with reading these books is they make me long for a historical Canada I'll never be able to see, all neighbourly farming villages, long trips by train, stately houses on broad Toronto streets, extended Prince Edward Island coastlines... Come to think of it, all those things are still around. You just have to look past the modern high rises and greater population, and they're all still there.
I'd recommend this book to anyone who's loved the Anne books, or everyone who'd like a glimpse into early Canadian life.
Meanwhile, though I haven't done much for ROW80 this week, I found an old snip... In my W post in April, I mentioned my story The Face of A Lion: I had an image come in my head of a boy and a cat walking down a dusty road, and the sea was rising behind them. I knew it meant they were walking back into time. And so I started writing to find out what happened...
Here's a snip from Chapter Two. Austin met the cat yesterday, and now the cat has come to remind him of his promise:
It seemed only moments later that he heard someone calling his name. He started up in surprise, blinking. The cat, who had been purring about his head, rolled neatly off his chest to sit on the mattress, still gazing, steadfast, into his eyes. His black nose was only an inch away.
The voice was there – just as he had heard it the day before.
"Have you thought anymore about what I asked you?"
Austin was certain now that it was the cat's voice, and underneath the words he heard again a low rumble, almost as though he was purring while speaking. Yet the cat's mouth was hardly open at all.
"Yes?" The cat laid a paw on his shoulder, expectant, claws sheathed.
He sat up straighter, having recovered breath enough to whisper. "Yes! But I don't know anything about – about –"
"No matter. There will be time enough on the way to tell you everything. Wear the simplest clothes that you have."
The cat jumped off the bed and turned toward the half-open door. "Be ready when I come tomorrow at dawn."
"Wait!" Austin called. "What do you mean 'be ready'? What should I bring? Where are we going? I don't even know your name!"
The cat slowly brought his head round to stare at him once more. "It's Kedi. Kedi Venter Pipire of Camulodunon, which the Romans altered to Camulodunum. But you can call me Kedi. And not where but when."
Kedi turned away and swished his tail back and forth as he left the room.
Hope you enjoyed it!
If you'd like to share short snips from your own WiPs, please do so in the comments!