Books

Tesco is the best ever place to buy novels. I'm not talking classy literature, I'm talking your common-or-garden, easy reading, read-in-one-sitting trashy books.

This weekend I got Diary of a Married Call Girl, which is the sequel to Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl by Tracy Quan and it's brilliant. It's all about this high-class Call Girl who maintains a relationship with her boyfriend who knows nothing about her career choices. In the sequel she's actually married him and he still doesn't know what she does for a career.

I also got Vanishing Acts by Jodi Picoult, who is pretty good if not a little samey. I'd be happy with her success as a writer though I guess it would be cooler to strive more to be like Zadie Smith, Haruki Murakami or Douglas Coupland - all of whom are talented and kind of edgy.

Actually, I'd like to be Edgar Allan Poe or Oscar Wilde but I fear they were one-offs and therefore impossible to emmulate.

Which is too bloody right I suppose as we should all stive to be true originals, leaving a unique mark on the world rather than just deformed sheep, following the leaders.

My Mum also brought over Lovers and Players by Jackie Collins, who I love. You gotta love Jackie Collins, she's a legend. It brought back many a memory of a 13/14-year-old Wondy hundled in bed reading the entire back-catalog of smut, learning all there is to know about Hollywood, fashion and a little thing called S-E-X.

*sigh*

Yeah so anyway, want a good book - try Tesco.