What does a bookshop do which nobody else can? And what has it got to do with why my bad memory can make even the hardiest, most optimistic author’s heart sink, and whether or not my family ever read this blog?
The lovely folk of The Annual Blogger’s Bash Awards have sashed me up with the Funniest Blogger prize. Just to prove that I’m an equal opportunities blogger, I’m posting something which might be more funny-peculiar than funny-haha. And why wouldn’t I? What else is a blog for, if not the ill-fitting and bizarre?
I have some things to tell you. They might even be interesting. However, none of these things would warrant a full post on their own, so I’m employing a cunning and never-before-seen trick of grouping them together. Today’s post concerns political tactics and vote-bashing; the Dublin Writer’s Conference; the fiction of literary fiction, and why it’s SO difficult to be right all the time.
Tara Sparling writes 