p.s.

I'm not making this up. Look.

It's as if there's some sort of, I don't know, conspiracy or something.

the current big thing

I've been buying books this week. Not for me - what kind of bookstore manager do you think I am? I get sent books to read for free. Granted, they're not always the books I would choose to read, but - they're free. No, I've been buying books for the bookstore; that is, nice people from all the publishers come round and show me powerpoint slides of their books and I decide, on the strength of that, what we'll have in the bookstore next March.

The thing is, I've seen quite a lot of lists in the last week and a half, and it seems to me that (whisper it softly) they all look a bit the same.

To my mind, by next March, we in the bookshops should be bringing out the Next Big Thing. We're done with the Christmas sellers, the books with lists of the top 101 this and the worst 1001 that, the buy-it-for-your-dad thrillers, the celebrity cookbook, the local-photographs-from-yesteryear. We're done with the it's-February-and-I'm-too-depressed-to-buy-books phase. Time for something new. Different! NEW!!

This hasn't percolated to book cover designers, though, who instead of pursuing the Next Big Thing, are firmly sticking with The Current Big Thing. I can't count how many crime/thriller/police procedural books I've seen where the cover has a silhouette of a person (or sometimes a car) backlit by a streetlight a la CSI. For example, for example, and yea, for example.

What I can't quite get over is that The Last Big Thing, or even at this stage The Big Thing Before The Last Big Thing, that is to say, The Da Vinci Code, is still spawning not only cover-alikes but also write-alikes. Remember the cover had the eyes of the Mona Lisa with the face sort of obscured by a pixelated brush stroke affair? Well, see The Archimedes Codex, with Archimedes' face partially obscured by a pixelated torn-away page. I think my favourite is The Magdalene Legacy, which combines the two Current Big Things - a write-alike of the Da Vinci Code with a cover that has a silhouette backlit by whatever is the biblical equivalent of a streetlight.

You would not believe how many books there are out there with the Da Vinci formula for the title: The Freemason's Code, The Grail Conspiracy, The Magdelene Cipher, The Romanov Prophecy, The Templar Legacy. Surely this is the We're So Over It, It's Not Even A Big Thing Any More? But they're still coming; in fact I'm planning to jump on the bandwagon myself, with a smash hit provisionally entitled either The Pilate Palimpsest or the Jesus Jigsaw.

Actually, there is a Next Big Thing, so look out. The Next Big Thing is...

The North.

The Iceman cometh, or at least the Icelandic man cometh, and as from January we'll all be reading somewhat dark, often spooky, sometimes crime-y thrillers from The North, viz, Scandinavia, northern Canada, the outer Hebrides etc. There's The Witch's Trinity set in Northern Germany (which is awesome, and has characters with names like "Gurd" and "Jost"); Sacrifice (coming in Feb, I think) set amongst much weirdness in the Shetland Islands; several dozen Swedish crime novels; and I'm currently reading an Icelandic thriller whose author has the unbeatable name of Yrsa Sigurdardottir. Start boning up on your Finnish, kids. The North hasn't looked so appealing since the Moomins.

close Encounters of the Kiwi kinds

Today, we Encountered some Kiwis. At the "Kiwi Encounter". Yes. It's New Zealand - everything can be made into a tourist attraction if you think about it hard enough.

Anyway, the Kiwi Encounter is a hatching place working to increase the population of kiwis, because they are super-endangered mostly due to being more than one sandwich short of a picnic, evolutionarily speaking. In fact, it's a good thing the Encounterers are so intent on increasing the kiwi population, because it seems the kiwis themselves really couldn't give a gnat's toot about surviving. They can't see, they can't fly, and once their chicks are hatched, the parents just wander off and leave them to die at the hands of stoats, weasels, cats, dogs, the weather, and basically anything smarter than a baby kiwi. Chick survival rate - a whopping 5%. Enter the Kiwi Encounterers, who swipe the eggs, bring them to hatcheries, and keep the chicks safe till they're big enough to outrun a weasel. It's all pc though - they do keep a couple of pairs in captivity for more eggs, but they are careful to teach the chicks to be proper kiwis and forage and dig instead of looking for people with food.

Kiwis are like smaller, cuter, fuzzier ostriches, sort of: the same shape of bird with those big legs and ridiculous tiddly wings. They also share the attribute of laying giganta-eggs, which during gestation make up 25% of the bird's body weight, and when laid, are the equivalent of giving birth to a 35 pound baby. Yowza.

Possibly the funniest, stoopidest thing of all about kiwis, is their noses. Most birds have nostrils immediately by their face on the beak. Kiwis have them right on the tip of the very long beak that they use for digging in the undergrowth. You can hear them snorting and sneezing as they get dirt up their noses.

Kiwis. D'oh.

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Knitter,

We understand that throughout the year 2007 you have been knitting socks (cf. "Year of the Foot"). Many of these socks have been created using a self-striping, superwash wool.

However, it has come to our attention that over the last two (2) weeks, you have knitted two (2) pairs of socks using a yarn that you described as "possum". You have freely and publicly admitted that the yarn you used for these socks contained at least forty (40) per cent possum yarn.

In addition, it is noted that you professed to "love" the socks made with this yarn, that it was your "new favourite", and that you described it as both "toasty" and "fuzzy".

We are greatly alarmed.

It pleases us that you conceded the position of possums as "vermin". You also proffered an amusing scenario describing possum shearing, which we appreciated, as you appear to have grasped the ridiculousness of such a possibility. We believe that these could be redeeming factors for you.

Nevertheless, the remainder of the yarn is still in your possession and we have heard from reliable sources that you intend to use it in a pair of gloves or handwarmers. This is reason enough for us to speak out.

Unlike the possum, we are bred for our wool, so that people like you can pursue your creative endeavours. There are few fibres, natural or otherwise, on earth that can match the properties of pure sheep's wool, be it for water-repellence, softness, ease of dyeing, or even the propensity not to burn.

We feel it would be timely to remind you of the hardships we endure on your behalf, year after year, to provide you with unlimited supplies of the knitting yarn that you now appear to shun.

We go cold, and humiliated, for your benefit. Within one week of our shearing, we are forced to overeat to such a degree that our skin thickens to compensate for the fleece we give with selfless generosity.

To hear that you are turning to possum yarn and extolling its virtues to others saddens and shocks us.

Your weak justification that your possum yarn also contains forty (40) per cent merino, is unsatisfactory.

We would like it understood that your future use of any merino, indeed, any yarn of less that 90% pure wool (10% nylon is permitted for elasticity) may result in further action on our part.

In conclusion:

Wool. One hundred per cent pure. You will do well to remember this.

Sincerely,

Sheep, Inc.

I will not be defeated

I was so in love with these socks. We had good times; they knitted up quickly and easily, the cables were cosy, the yarn fuzzy. The first pair was a joy to make and to behold.

Then I started the second pair.

On the left hand side of the picture, see three twisty cable things. On the right hand side, directly opposite that, see...oh. TWO twisty cable things.

I cannot begin to describe how far up the sock this mistake is, because it's practically right at the beginning, and I didn't see it until I was doing the toe (that is to say, finishing it). No, nobody will notice it unless I point it out, but still. Just one of those things that will annoy me till the end of time.

This is not the only thing wrong with the sock, as I misread the foot pattern...it doesn't matter per se, as the recipient has not seen the pattern and what it should look like, and it is still fine. But I KNOW that it's wrong. And on top of that, now I have to do it wrong on the second sock to make them the same.

Speaking of the second sock, I started it, and something has happened to me in between the completion of the first and the casting on of the second. Because to my eyes, the second one looks (to borrow a phrase from a famous knitter) "like ass". The tension seems all loose, even though I am hauling on the stitches as if my life depended upon it. I was tired when I was counting the pattern last night and this resulted in having to rip it back almost to the beginning - twice.

I don't like to fight with my socks. I like them to grow pleasantly and with a sense of achievement and excitement about giving them to their intended new owner. I like to think about them during my working day and imagine adding a little bit more to their cosy loveliness in the evening. But this pair? These are the recalcitrant adolescents of socks. They will fight me till the bitter end, and all I will feel when I mail them next week is relief that I don't have to see them again.