Scooby-Doo and the Haunted Castle

Can't find this one online either - I found it slightly waterlogged in a park, it looks like it probably came from a Happy Meal or something. Anyway it's a pretty bog standard Scooby story so I won't spoil the fat old mystery here in case you also find a copy of this riveting pocket-size adventure somewhere in the mad fuzz of our outdoors world.

D.I.Y. Dentistry

This book by Andy Riley is one of those "flip through it over the course of six or seven poos and then never think of it again" kind of books, for the coffee table in your nearest bathroom, then to be given away after being disinfected thoroughly to someone you vaguely hope might find it funnier than you did. Not a very humorous humour book if you ask me, very samey and barely even pretends to try to double down on its own penchant for the squeamish.

senses

This book is an early learning picture book about the five senses. I read it to a toddler on the wrong [as it happened] expectation that it would feature sections about things like proprioception and humour but alas. It did not. And the cover the main five were given was a bit all over the place if you ask me.

Sloth Life: Don't Hurry, Be Happy

This book by Forrest Greenwood is a damn near perfect coffee-table toilet-shelf micro-book of cute sloth pics and funny text. That is, I believe, all that needs saying about it - at least, it's all I will say, as ironically I'm writing this in a spot of a rush.

A Pair of Sinners

This book by Allan Ahlberg, illustrated by John Lawrence, is a classical-style poetic fairy type story with, as its title implies, a strong moral compulsion/conundrum baked into it. A bit grim and dark compared to the kinds of children's books I've primarily been enjoying recently, but a bit of grim and dark in kiddish bedtime reading never went too far awry, right? Dunno. I reckon many 4 - 6ish year olders would get a kick out of this, but I can't imagine it would become a regularly-demanded favourite for the majority of normal children. But what do I know?

Realist Manifesto

This text by Naum Gabo is as it says on the tin; a potently concise and polemically clear statement of the philosophy of a school of artistic performance/criticism - that of realism. Certainly a thought-provoking read should anyone be interested in that kind of thing; I read the text initially live at the Tate in St Ives.

Reckless

This book by Amanda Quick started off relatively interesting and turns into a pulpy erotica mess about eighty pages in, which didn't really surprise me from the blurb-geist I'll concede but I still could've done with a bit more attention paid to the whole "knight-errant" angle which kicks off the plot and made for a fairly interesting dynamic between the female protagonist and her "not that noble" a chivalrous aide. Would make for a great trashy beach read if you're not fussy about the above elements.

the Diary of a Killer Cat

This book by Anne Fine (and illustrated excellently by Steve Cox) is a poignant, on-the-nose assessment of ways in which we misunderstand or misinterpret the kindnesses or otherwise our pet cats bestow upon us. Now, as an arguably OTT cat-empath who sees a lot of myself reflected in the being of cats (see also Waldron's Ginger), I found this bright eyed six-day seven-chapter Whodunnit tale extremely entertaining, and this would be an optimal Good Bedtime Week's-worth of Reading to Cat AND dog children* as some kind of litmus test for any pet-getting considerations. I enjoyed it, in any case.

* All other pets, rabbits and rats and such, forbid you introduce them to the flesh of these pages. For it is, this book, only truly for cat-lovers, and lovers of cats alone. Which, and I know this is weird, but even the author isn't.

The Twits

This book by Roald Dahl is a grim, somewhat funny but mostly grim, story about domestic abuse taken to its most horrendous logical conclusion, in a flamboyantly misanthropic married couple who end up more or less killing each other with all their schemes and plots. I mean, the monkeys helped, but spoilers.

Talking about Jesus without Sounding Religious

This book by Rebecca Manley Pippert is a fantastic pocket-size readable-in-an-hour kind of sort of a book - if you're an evangelist who struggles to "evangelize" in, on the fences around, or outside of your own Comfort Zone - this book may really help you to seize the joy of Christian living by the throat and gargle your own bloody song along to its tune; you will be challenged and exhorted by this book & all to your blessing by the empowerments as Gospel Truth undermines all that is crooked around us.

Daredevils and Desperadoes

This book, by seemingly esteemedly myth-renderingly prolific children's author Geraldine McCaughrean; is simple enough. If your presumption from the title is that this is but one more expansion from D&D - think again; this is a collection of well-kept buried much-ken but-morely-mistold in recall - twenty tidbits of the true history of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland - though focusing on England, as you would. Spanning a 300 year or so wash of events and change, McCaughrean revels in her ability to dive into the darkest, strangest corners of our own national mythology to bonk or debunk or misun-bodge or something and just tell the story straight in language that wouldn't offend anyone with pleasant sensibilities nor scare the children. Too much.

   I can hardly claim to do justice to the tales regaled here, but I will list them, and in the true saken apprehension likeness of a knight-errant in diligent digitude, will append each story with a Wikipedia link so you can chase down the funny connections yourselves.

1. My running best bet on the Hokey Cokey's Origin as bourgeois burlesque, in 1348.
2. How being a cat-breeder can make you the Mayor of London.
3. The backstory of the first Tyler Durden style Revolt - and how it was quashed.
4. Henry the 5th's morale-boosting all-nighter - which G.R.R. Martin totally ripped off.
5. An inter-village love story involving bells so Niche I can't find a Wikipage for it.
6. Richard the 3rd's child prince prisoners; and/or their disposals.
7. How an anti-English plot to replace the King achieved a new kind of cake.
8. The clan MacLeod Faery Flag, which is probably actually tartan magic.
9. William Tyndale's much-punished quest to translate the Bible into English.
10. Some contextual notes on Anne Boleyn. And her ghost[s].
11. Jack Horner in 1537 saving illuminated monastic deeds and manuscripts from Henry VIII; if it's a true story, some Monastic Scripts were saved but he is remembered only in nursery rhymes. With a pie, for some reason.
12. More sordid context-notes for our best-known least-loved monarch's spouse[s].
13. How it's likely, or at least speculatively possible, that the wife of Elizabeth the 1st's stablesman killed herself for Queen & Country.
14. Using your velvet cloak as a carpet for a Queen when she would otherwise have to tread in mud is a great way of getting off to a Toady Start.
15. El Draco could of course defeat the Spanish Armada - but finished his game of bowls first. Just cos he's the kind of man who would, and purportedly did.
16. A cousin, losing her head to another. Heavy is the crown, indeed.
17. First settlements and whatnot. Raleigh wanted a city, but kept flitting off.
18. Where in 1588 a long-blown-off Spanish vessel was decimated by locals.
19. One of Shakespeare's greatest tricks - the silent business of upping sticks.
20. A bit more contextual insight into the Fall Guy for big Catholic plots - foiled, 1605.

   Anyway, that's it.
   Yes, I already know I live in a crazy country, but I love it here. Each chapter - as well as telling the fuller stories much more satisfyingly than I have here sketch'd, include short afternote detailing exactly how apocryphal most historiographers tend to agree upon.

Enjoy your Prayer Life

This book by Michael Reeves (same great author as this) does what it says on the tin: it is a hearty and helpful guide to diagnosing whether and why one's life of relational prayer with God may, or may not, be flourishing at any particular time in your life. Readers of this blog will not be surprised that maintaining a strong lifestyle element of prayerfulness is, I think - fundamental to my personal flourishing and joy.

   It's a very short book, in fourteen bitesize chapters: I finished it over a single coffee. Any normal reader could likely do the same, were they not taking the time-outs to think over what they've read - as I didn't feel much need to, as it rather just revivified in affirmation of my actual IRL views on prayer anyway, grounded well in Scriptural theology as you'd expect. Helpful reminders from this book include:

• Prayer is not a magical formulaic means of "getting summat" from God
• It is merely asking God for help with that which we cannot resolve
• Our prayers to the Father are conducted through and by Jesus
• Intentionality of resting in Christ's name gives our prayers a "pleasing fragrance" when the words reach the heavens; and all prayers are answered, though we might not always recognize these when they come as God's wisdom exceeds our own understanding of right and Need
• Ideally, prayer should be done constantly - that is, in that it becomes an added layer of consciousness to those practicing it, in all things; not just ritual verbiage
• Total dependence on God through Jesus's accomplished work is the best method for achieving constancy of prayerful mindfulness; it is the antithesis of "independence"
• Obviously, the Holy Spirit guides much of all the inner workings herein
• So be honest - for God sees you as you truly are
• And trust in Christ's promises - that as we pray in and with Him we will be brought ever deeper into God's bosom; in joy, understanding and obedient love

   And so on.

   Hardly the kind of book that would be necessarily enticing to someone who doesn't think God is real or good or whatever - but as a Christian pilgrim, this is worth a read. If you're able to afford it - it's probably worth buying a few dozen copies and handing them out to all your Christian mates/acquaintances. In any case, I have left my (somewhat dog-eared, soz) copy in the Trewan Hall bookswap library.

Edge of Glass

This novel by Catherine Gaskin is a pretty mediocre but satisfying for what it says on the tin romance romp through antique shop clerk Maura's enticing dalliance with an enigmatic Irishman, who shows up suspiciously close to the disappearance from the D'Arcy shop of an almost priceless glassware item; the Cullodan Cup, the last in known existence as t'other is inconveniently smashed near the novel's kickoff.
   Not really my cup of tea, but it was fun to try a genre I usually steer clear of. If it sounds like your kind of book though, there is alongside the Cheap-as-Freebook a well-brown'd copy of it in the Trewan Hall library. To be perfectly honest it was a pretty tough one to speed-read, but I pushed on as it had a vaguely Seymourish smell to the prose.

Jeremiah Jellyfish Flies High

This book written and illustrated fantastically by John Fardell is a very close second, or almost joint first, to my favourite children's books I've read this year. The illustrations are detailed but not distracting from the story - full of characterful detail and gorgeous depth of attention to colour - plus speech bubbles, which add a comicky layer on top of the text narration! Anyway, it's about a jellyfish called Jeremiah who gets curious as to what it's like doing anything but drifting along with the rest of his family-shoal; he evades a small range of supposed dangers (the picture of the jellyfishermen & their evil contraption-boat is one of my fave pages in any kids' book), and eventually meets a man who works in the industry of rocket science. SPOILER ALERT the pair swap roles for a bit, with J.J. taking on the test-pilot entrepreneurial side of running the rocket-plane business while the CEO of actual company takes some time out to just drift, wetsuited up so the jellyfish-fam don't sting him. Eventually they both realise their original placements in the world were of a better long-term run than their freshly realized acted roles; and they switch back, but both are forever changed by their Freaky Friday style career swap. A genuinely great little children's book - with excellent morals about work, and a healthy respect for uglier smaller corners of marine biology.

Max the Brave

This book by Ed Vere is a close to perfect kids' book. Plotwise it's very much the same kind of general gist as The Gruffalo, but the protagonist is a cat looking for mice to hunt instead of a mouse seeking to not be hunted; both lead to monstrous conclusions that are neatly amusing. Though if I'm honest the style of illustrations in this one - being scribblier and black blobby inkspot style rather than Overly Detailed; I don't have the real excuse anymore of having to read to Small Isaac so I did read this purely for my own entertainment, and I very much enjoyed it. Another front on which it's better than the other more famous story I compared it with here is that only one lie is told throughout the whole book - still the mouse saving his own skin, obviously - but it just resolves itself as a moral quandary much more neatly than The Gruffalo, in my honest opinion. But hey, what do I know, I'm just a 26-year-old non-binary Children's Books Nerdstalgia Meta-Guardian.

Ten Days in a Mad-House

This book, a reprint of an 1887 work compiled by Ian Munro from the reports and news-clippings from intrepid journalist Elizabeth Jane Cochran, a.k.a. Nellie Bly - or for the sake of her narration in here, N. Brown. I won't say much about it because Wikipedia can give you a better-sourced summation than I can be bothered to - but basically she feigned dementia/insanity for a while to see how hard it would be to get committed to an asylum, in which pursuit she could then report first-hand on the conditions of such places. She spent ten days in Blackwell's Island Asylum, having been processed through the bulk of an inept bureaucratic system up to that point. It is gross and shocking reading that makes me so grateful to God for the NHS; and to the sheer ballsiness of people like Liz Cochran / Nellie Bly for diving headlong into the messes of our world to tell the truth, and their stories amidships. Grimly fascinating, and I will be digging out more books by Nellie to see how she managed to circumnavigate the world in eight days less than Jules Verne thought probable. Following her exposé of the terrible conditions, the state of New York committed an extra $1,000,000 to the cause of properly caring for the "insane". What a woman. 

Mary Wilson: Selected Poems

This book is, as it says on the tin, a collection of poems by one Mary Wilson, best known for being the spouse of one of my great country's past prime ministers. They aren't very good poems, I hate to say, in my opinion. They come across as heartfelt but immature; with an attempted grasp at profundity but almost completely lacking the linguistic toolkit to craft anything of much artistic worth.

   Certain poems, like her closer The Lunarnaut and the penultimate When in the night remorse returns did though strike a chord with my reading; and while her leftist-leaning views are far too politely and patronizingly masked in my opinion (as per The Durham Miners' Gala and its contrast to the little-Englandness of Oxford and Cambridgeshire, both of which are given a far more in-depth poetic scouring examination than the celebrancy of working class norms), there's a strong Christian ethic and metaphysical undercurrent to several which meant the pair If I could end my life on such a day and You have turned your back on Eden both hit home hard; but it feels she is emulating Dickinson or Whitman (see also The Lifeboat and St Mary's Church) too hard rather than striking out at any means of finding her own voice. I guess it's hard to do that too individualistically when you're married to someone who gets elected to lead the United Kingdom twice. After the Bomb makes some interesting thought-trains about nuclear warfare and its ongoing standoff - while the poem about a smelly homeless person I probably enjoyed the most for its authenticity. While not wanting to end on a scathing note for a post that's maybe been more critical than I usually am with poetry - I reiterate I don't think this is a fantastic volume, but it has some nice, decent poems in it, and the best one is its opener which I will transcribe here verbatim:

If I can write, before I die

One line of purest poetry;

Or crystallize, for all to share

A thought unique, a moment rare

Within one sentence, clear and plain

Then I shall not have lived in vain.

   Beautiful, no?

   Worthy of other current poetic leaders. And a full vindication of Mrs Wilson as poet, in my eyes - see the post on Rupi Kaur's milk and honey for more in-depth considerations regarding what makes poets good or poets at all. If you're a poetry fan with centrist sort of political leanings, and are interested in what makes for being a good power couple; this is the sort of collection I'd recommend you pick up if you run across it in a charity shop.