So, I’m back with another diary style post. This week has been a bit quiet – mostly been busy with work but still I think I have enough material for a weekly diary post.
Last weekend I went to Oko to try out their Mandarin Calling food fest, and I had the best time. I’m realizing of late that events like Oko are the ones that I like and most want to attend. Great ambiance, food, a friendly PR, and the fact that I got to visit it with friends made me feel so comfortable and relaxed, and I think that genuine pleasure in the day reflects in my blog post.
I attend blog events only once a week or once in two weeks. That is partly because I don’t have too many PR contacts or blog visibility, but it is also because I turn down a lot of events that don’t interest me, fit into my day job schedule, or involve a stressful trip across town. This is also why I suck as a lifestyle blogger. Just too damn lazy.
Of late, I have been feeling like my blogging has got a bit mechanical – a bunch of book reviews (usually done way after I have read the book), the occasional restaurant review, but I think the earlier personal note has started to go missing. Partly, because somewhere along the way I started doing book reviews for publishers and food posts for restaurants (meaning I have a deadline), and basically the blog has started feeling more business-like, than like a personal blog.
I can’t say I can go completely back to the old tone and content as i no longer feel like I am writing solely for friends and family. But I also don’t want the blog to exist merely as a database of places to go, and books to read. I don’t know how the new style will evolve but I plan to have a little more about my daily life and routines, things I am thinking, what the kids are doing/saying to me, and so on.
Let’s see how things evolve. Old readers, I hope you will like my going back to more of what made you read my blog read in the first place, newer readers, I hope you find reading about the person behind the blog as interesting as the blog itself.
This is the second Pride and Prejudice related fiction I’ve read recently (see my review of Death Comes to Pemberley here). Both these books came to me from the library, and I was very excited to read them. Unfortunately both have also turned out to be damp squibs.
I never really got the idea of reading all the various sequels/adaptations of Pride and Prejudice. Don’t get me wrong, I love the classic, and have read it multiple times. But, I was quite happy leaving Darcy and Elizabeth where they belonged. I didn’t need to read more about them.
That is, until one day I stumbled across Death comes to Pemberley by P.D. James. The book synopsis did not sound utterly ridiculous (unlike say Pride and Prejudice and Zombies), and I’ve always enjoyed James’ mysteries.
I am shamefully ignorant of the details of the Egyptian civilization. Sure, I know the names of a handful of Kings and Queens, but if questioned further would know next to nothing about any of their reigns, or even who is related to who. I mean, it’s so confusing. A lot of my confusion has to do with the fact that their names are so similar, and they tended to marry into the family, and because this is really ancient history, even the experts seem divided about how to interpret some of the archaeological artifacts.
So, when I picked up Nefertiti by Michelle Moran, it was with the full knowledge that anything she stated would fly by me. The only knowledge I had about Nefertiti was that she was an Egyptian queen, she was known for her beauty, and my mother has a bust of hers in her house from a trip to Egypt aeons ago.
Excuse me for the rather shabby shot of the book cover in my featured image. The thing is, when one so deeply invests in second-hand books, it’s very difficult to take a good shot of it – without having something else in the frame to prettify it up. In this case, my bag #booksandbags.
Anyway, enough rambling, and let’s get on with a short and concise review of the book, shall we? In this case, directly contrary to the style of the book – long and rambling.
Not that there’s anything wrong with long, rambly books. In fact, in the right mood, I rather adore them.