it’s been a miserably cold day in Jo’burg, so after school was done, I made home-made pizza with bacon and mushrooms and bananas on it, crawled under the duvet, and read Dogsbody from cover to cover for the first time in well over a decade (probably closer to two, if I’m going to admit how geriatric I am).

I still love this book.


And as a children’s book I think it’s perfect. It has this amazing mix of the comfortable and the terrible.

It’s a story about a dog – and on one level, that’s something so familiar and appealing to a great many children (and adults), and certainly to those with a soft-spot for animals, that I think if it had been nothing more than just a dog story, it would still have worked in some capacity.

But, like any good book for children, it also contains the terrible. The awesome, in its original sense: cruelty, and misery and the stars and bittersweet endings and dark things that live in the shadows.

And this is a book that’s older than me, and yet it could have been written last year.

There’s something enduring about a good book, and this remains one of my favourites. If I could ever write a book a tenth as wonderful, I’d be a extremely happy little camper.

Moving on from that not-a-review, I’m reading Coraline to the Elder Sprog and she is LOVING it, so score one for Mr Gaiman. Despite all the hype, I’ve never actually read it, nor had I seen the film, so in a way this is doubly cool, because we’re discovering the book together.

And in nano-news, I’ve cracked 30 k, so that makes me feel all glowy and accomplished, etc.

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