On my trains, there’s a fairly even split of bookworms and people who treat their commute as an extension of their working day. I can’t help but sneak a glance at others’ books. What are they reading? Why are they reading it? What made them pick Reservoir 13, Nox or Sapiens? (I haven’t read any of them. Should I?) Was it the eye-catching cover design, or the pithy blurb? Was it the Goodreads rating, or a friend’s recommendation? Or plain old FOMO?
When people – be they family, friends or otherwise – ask me what I do, I never quite know where to start. Assistant Editor is the step between Editorial Assistant and Commissioning Editor; in a nutshell, it involves working more closely with typescripts and dipping my toes into commissioning, alongside general administrative tasks which enable the lists to run smoothly. Here’s a snapshot of how I spend my days . . .
If the book you’re reading isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, do you a) abandon ship – life’s too short for sub-par books, or b) plough on regardless – it might get better, after all? Until relatively recently, I couldn’t bear the thought of ditching a book partway through; I’ve slowly come to accept that if a book isn’t ticking all the boxes for me, it’s fine to put it down, to return it to the library half-read. But, as ever, the latest instalment in this series isn’t about the books that didn’t float my boat: it’s about those that did.
Give or take a day, I’ve now been living in Cambridge for eighteen months. That might not sound like a long time, but it’s the longest I’ve lived at one address for quite some time (six years, five months and twenty-two days, to be precise). Since my last update on life ‘Down South’, I’ve ventured to Portugal, Germany and France. Closer to home, I’ve munched my way through a few more of Cambridge’s eateries (Pint Shop, Bread & Meat and Urban Larder are spots I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend), caught up with friends and family and squeezed in a few country walks.
World Book Day, a day dedicated to one of my favourite pastimes, is almost upon us. Today, I’m sharing some of my childhood favourites, penned by the likes of Roald Dahl, Dr. Seuss and Francesca Simon. These are the books I remember fondly; the books that captured my imagination and made me the bookworm I am today.
New year, same me (minus the scaly, eczema-plagued hands). 2018 was a blast, even if I am hurtling towards being a member of the quarter-century club (argh, how time flies!). To those who have read La Grenouille Anglaise since the beginning, and to those who have joined along the way, thank you – for your comments, support and words of encouragement. With 2019 already well underway, it’s time to take a look back at some of 2018’s most memorable moments. On y va !
If I actually owned all the books I’d read this year, my (real) bookshelf would be overflowing, creaking at the joints under the weight of masses of thrillers and autobiographies. Fortunately, between Cambridge Central Library and the book swap box at work I rarely need (or have cause) to buy a book, so my bookshelf is, for the time being at least, under control. (That said, I did bag a few bargains, including Nelson Mandela’s Dare Not Linger at a charity book sale at work earlier this month.) Honourable mentions for this quarter go to Kristen Lepionka’s What You Want to See (an electrifying sequel to The Last Place You Look) and Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere (which completely lived up to the praise it had received).