The Mind is a Warzone! Always Keep Fighting

I have tried to write a post...this post...and then just any post, countless times over the last few months. So many of them I approached the subject sideways, with analogies and metaphors. Once I even used a sports metaphor complete with curve balls and getting hit straight on. The thing is none of them seemed to get across what I wanted to say, none of them conveyed what I was feeling. I kept hoping that writing would help me work through things, but every time I started it got more and more knotted up. In the end I had to step away for a while. Things are a little better now, so now is the time to get back on the horse, maybe this time without too many metaphors though, and add in this most recent chapter in the life of Sleepy Joe.

About three months ago I ended up off work having been diagnosed with anxiety and depression and getting to the point I could no longer cope with daily life. In all honesty it had been building up for a while; stress on stress on stress plus some changes and uncertainty equals the last straw on the camels back (see I can't help myself) and I broke. There were tears enough to fill an ocean and guilt like I have never felt because surely I was letting the world down if I stopped for a moment. But more, I was lost. I had no idea who idea who I was anymore.

I once thought of myself as strong and capable woman but I found myself scared and a wreck just going into a supermarket. There were days where I couldn't face leaving the house or answering the phone and the thought of going to work terrified me. I felt like a failure, like some weak thing that could no longer cope (sometimes I still do) and I think that horrified me even more. And tired, so so tired. Every day was (and sometimes is) a battle with my mind over which voice would win; the one telling me not to do something because I would get it wrong or the one telling me what a failure I was because I'd already messed up.

The first few panic attacks had scared me and my Other Half had seen me withdrawing so he 'encouraged' me to seek help and by the time I broke completely I had worked my way up the list for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. It sounds weird but I think the best way I can describe it is a healthy eating package for your mental health. The fabulous lady I have been seeing over twelve or so weeks has helped me to look at all the unhealthy ways I think about things, in particular with regard to my anxiety and panic attacks. She has helped me see that life is not black OR white - control OR out of control - strong OR weak. I have come to realise I don't hold others to the same standards I was holding myself to "be perfect or you've failed" "be in control or you're weak". It's a cliche but I now understand why I am the way I am, what experiences from my past have shaped me and reinforced my beliefs to mean I got stuck in a cycle of panic because at the end of the day being anxious sometimes is a normal human response, getting stuck in those feelings probably isn't so helpful.

I have made peace with the fact I am always going to feel like this; I am going to have low moments, I am going to over analyse, I will probably beat myself up about things that I cannot control, and I will probably panic. The difference now? I know how to handle it, it won't handle me!

When I started the therapy one of my goals was "to feel like me again" and it's strange because I don't feel like the me I used to be. I don't think that I will ever be that me again. For quite a while I have identified with a song (pinned in below) and a line in it says, "If I recover will you take me back again." I thought all this time that I needed to 'get well' and get back to being what I was because I was ill. I have come to realise now that yes anxiety and depression, like other mental health issues/illnesses, are illnesses. They are diseases of the mind. But they are ones from which you never fully recover, you just learn how to handle it, how to live a more mentally healthy life. I will never be that me again because that me never ran a day in her life, this me runs three times a week to get head space and stay calm/sane. I will never be that me because that me tried to write a journal every day but could never quite maintain it, this me has to to clear out the mental baggage and to see her achievements on a daily basis. There will be more differences because I'm still a little lost trying to figure out who I am in all this but I'll get there.

None of us have any issue talking about our latest healthy lifestyle craze do we?! Healthy eating; #leanin15, juices or 5:2 Fitness; spinning, burpees or the latest gym membership. Why then can we not feel free to chat about our mental health too? Why does that have to break down before we decide to take our mental well being for a healthy spin? One of my biggest fears at the peak of my problems was the social response I would get to having a panic attack in public. That people would think I was weak/stupid/silly, that I just needed to pull myself together when in fact I had little control over it at that point. And I know I am not the only person with fears of this nature. Would it be like this if we talked about it a bit more? If we talked Sinceriously.

From the Stephen Amell Represent campaign see here

I feel lucky. I have my family; my Other Half and my Munchkins and although it's been hard I have not seen the bottom, I know I didn't get that low and help was there when I needed it. There are people not so fortunate and that's where we fail as a society to look after each other. 

Finally in the words of Jared Padalecki, who has openly spoken about his fight with depression, 

Always Keep Fighting!

Let's get out of here!

I have to apologise to my very good friend Leah. I promised it wouldn't take so long to post the next part to Alistair and Frankie's story and it's been months. But it's here now! Catch up with the start here, continued here and the last installment was here. And the story continues...

Photo by Holmes Palaciosview original here on Flikr 

Leonard twirled Frankie out to the side as the song was coming to an end and pulled her in just in time to dip her backwards on the last note. Frankie’s breathing became deeper as he looked into her eyes. She would have done anything to get away from those eyes; they may be similar to Alistair’s but they made her feel totally different, like he was an insect crawling into her soul. At this little display of Leonard’s there was a round of applause rippling through the room. When he finally righted her she became aware of the number of eyes in their direction and that none of the staff were clapping. Will especially looked like he might grind his teeth down to nothing.

Taking his offered arm Frankie let him escort her back to Alistair, who hadn’t moved an inch since she left his side. If looks could kill Leonard would be six foot under by now, but the way Alistair gripped his folded arms let her know that it wouldn’t be that simple.

“ We are going to have so much more fun my dear. But for now I think you two lovebirds have some things to discuss.” Leonard sniggered as he turned and bowed to the audience of waiting men.

“Time to go.” Alistair said through gritted teeth grabbing hold of Frankie’s hand and pulling her toward the arch. Frankie had no objections at all, except that they didn’t seem to be stopping for her jacket. She liked that jacket too.

But the world didn’t tilt as the shimmer kicked in and walking forward only spat them back out into the club. Twice more Alistair dragged Frankie through, gaining speed with each attempt.

“You know that’s not how it works Alistair.” Trixie’s voice came from the corner. “If he has decided you’re not leaving then the arch will no longer work for you. I’m sorry.”

“Alistair, who is he?” Frankie asked, “Alistair.” She said grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. His eyes were frantic, unlike anything she had ever seen in him before. “Ok, take a breath for a minute. We obviously aren’t going anywhere fast so let’s just sit down...”

“No! We have to go, now. Trixie, please?” Alistair pleaded, “This has to stop. Let us out.”

“You know I don’t have that kind of power. And before you ask Miss Taylor, no there isn’t an alternative exit. One way in. One way out.” Trixie replied and then disappeared, her position no longer needed at the front of house with the doorway sealed.

“Come on” Frankie said pulling Alistair with her as he looked back at where Trixie had been moments  before. She took them straight to the bar and slid onto two bar stools as far from everyone else as possible.

An uneasy silence hung between them sat there at the gloomy end of the bar, punctuated by the clunk of the ice rolling around in Alistair’s glass as he swirled his whiskey. Frankie was the first to break the impasse. “Ok, are you going to tell me what I’ve gotten into here?”

Alistair rubbed his hands through his perfect hair and pulled them down his face, letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Frankie. If only we had met before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I ever started coming here,” he gestured to the club suddenly looking exhausted.

“Exactly how long have you been coming to the club Alistair?” Frankie asked warily.

Alistair let out a long breath. “Around three centuries.”

Frankie threw back her shot of tequila that had been sitting on the bar since they sat down. She savoured the burn as it slid down her throat and the sticky bitter smell of the alcohol while she composed herself. Three centuries! “Well no offense but I wasn’t around back then, I don’t think meeting would really have been an option.”

Alistair looked up from his down-ward gaze to meet Frankie’s eyes. As he did Frankie burst out laughing, straight delivery of comedic lines wasn’t something she was ever good at. I didn’t take long for her laughter to infect him too.

“ So,” Frankie began, gasping through the remnants of the hysteria, “exactly what is it you bring girls here for?”

“You have to understand Frankie that this started a long time ago when I was very young and very stupid.” He started, “I was from a rich family; thought I was entitled to the world and more . Why do we always want more? Anyway, I’d been coming to this club. Back then I lived in London and that’s where I was introduced. Drunk one night, sat at the bridge table, I stupidly said in front of the wrong person ‘all I want from life is to have a young woman on my arm.’ The next thing I know I am speaking with Leonard and signing my life away.” Alistair stared over toward the gambling tables lost in the memory for a moment.

“The deal was I would always have exactly what I wished for; never again would I grow old and I would always find young beautiful women attracted to me.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.” Frankie encouraged when he seemed unwilling to go on.

Alistair sighed, “Yes the but; there’s a catch that I didn’t care about back then. Every five years Leonard gets a young lady for the club.” His head in his hands, “God Frankie I used to justify it that they would get to live forever. Seriously I was condemning them to this hell-hole and they get to stay here forever, what a peachy life huh? I just couldn’t see a way out.”

“Really? Not one single way?” Frankie asked raising her left eyebrow for effect.

 “Yes I tried that and a few other ways too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Alistair sat up and finally downed his whiskey; he’d give Will this one the guy knew his patron’s poisons. “I’ve been at this for three centuries Frankie. Once I finally grew up and realised what the Hell I’d gotten myself into, do you not think I tried every which way to break this or cheat it. It doesn’t work. He finds me every time, drags me back or revives me and then takes what is owed any way he can.”

“And I’m your five year payment?” Frankie said bluntly.

“Shit Frankie, I don’t want this. I love you. I wish you had never met me.” Alistair shouted throwing his empty glass at the wall.

Frankie smiled; watching him come apart was just a little bit satisfying. “Alistair,” Frankie said calmly composing herself, “tell me how it works.”

“What? How what works?”

“How Leonard gets me. How the club takes me. Tell me exactly how it happens.”

In hushed tones at the end of the bar Alistair told Frankie how the process starts when she puts the ring on but isn’t complete until vows are exchanged in a ceremony. He explained how the vows are the key, seemingly innocuous wedding vows but vows are a contract and a contract with Hell at that.

“So if I do this I’m what another waitress? I grow horns and a tail and wander round in my underwear?” Frankie spat the words at Alistair, the disgust now showing plainly on her face.

“If you are lucky.” Alistair replied, not bothering to hide the disgust from his voice.

The bar stool tumbled over when Frankie stood grabbing her purse to leave. Alistair grabbed her wrist.

“Please don’t. We’ll figure this out...I lo”

“Don’t.”  She cut him off before he could finish the word. “I will not be another Trixie in your world, watching you bring women into this club.”

Will appeared at the end of the bar, “Do you need anything down here? Is he bothering you Frankie?”

“No, I was just leaving.” Frankie yanked her arm free and for good measure slapped Alistair across the face with a satisfying crack.

Walking away from him and no longer having to pretend to like him felt good but this was far from over, she hadn’t gotten out of the place yet. And she still hadn’t found Mum. She was nearly to the end of the bar, though where exactly she thought she was going was a mystery. Leonard stepped into her path forcing her to stop just before colliding with him. Slowly having to adjust the angle of her head to look him in the eye, the smell of his colongne almost overpowering.

“Well my dear that chat didn’t seem to go at all as Alistair would have hoped, or I for that matter.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” Frankie replied belligerently.

“Come sit with me Frankie.” Leonard offered his arm, once again to take her away from Alistair and once again she could feel him seething behind her.

He guided Frankie across the club to his own private booth, set just away from the rest of the booths it offered the best view of the stage as well as the rest of the club. It was also more spacious with added velour throw cushions and a seat that you could sink into. There was no waiting for drinks a waitress was right behind them with glasses and a bottle of blood red wine.

“Tell me Frankie, what do you make of the entertainment here? What brings the young people into a club like this?” Leonard asked handing Frankie a rather large glass of Argentinean Malbec.

Frankie took a slow sip trying to work out how to answer this question, “To be honest I’m probably not the best person to ask. I think I live in the past sometimes.”

“Ahhhh, but life is ahead of you my dear. A very beautiful life”

Hope you are still enjoying this, the few of you that are still reading ;-) What has everyone been upto lately?

Laughter, Pebbles and Reminders

Sometimes you just need a little reminder to be mindful, to appreciate the good and beautiful things around you; the pebbles.

Laugh so hard it brings tears to your eyes,

Giggle so long your cheeks ache.

Laugh so often you've no idea the subject, 

But those you laughed with never forgotten.

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This tune never fails to make me smile, I hope it does the same for you.

What things have been making you laugh, or just smile if that's all you can manage, recently?

Immortal

Tears etched on my cheeks

You're tattooed on my heart

Always immortal in my soul

I'm a weirdo let me out of here!

I have lost count on how many times I've tried to start this post. But then it is never that easy to admit that something is not quite right with yourself. Though I don't understand why. I guess it comes from the social construct that we must all be "normal" and "perfect". I find this really irritating. One, who the heck can ever live up to those nondescript standards? And two it makes it really difficult for people with serious illnesses that need help to seek it for fear of the stigma that they will attract.

Mind, a charity that deals with mental heath issues in the UK, has had a campaign recently encouraging people to take five minutes to talk. It can be talking openly about mental health issues or just generally getting things off your chest because doing so is a bit like going to the gym for your mental health. If you don't currently have any problems you are making sure you have a fighting chance in the future just by having a chat, now that sounds like a work out I can handle!

Now, me? I don't suffer any mental health issues as such. I am most certainly a bit weird and not all there sometimes but nothing diagnosable...at least not that I know of. How I feel it's not claustrophobia because I don't struggle in lifts and small spaces, however if I spend too long confined in one building I become agitated. I have a need to be out...doing...being elsewhere. I have no idea if there is a term for this, to me it's just another little way I am weird.

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Just recently though I have discovered that it goes a little further. It is not only if I am in the same building for any length of time, which can be a couple of days to a few hours, this weirdness seems to extend to getting stuck in the same routine/rut. I found that I was getting agitated more easily, but also tired quicker my interest in things was slipping away too.

Are you ready for the light-bulb moment?

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I listened to a new album (track off said album coming up) this week and for the first time in ages I felt alive, I felt ready to go face what the world had for me and I wanted more. I realised that what drives me out of the house isn't just the need to be out it is the need for new and different. The easiest way for me to achieve this is to take a trip to the closest city and wander round for a couple of hours, it's a quick fix. When I was young and lived at home I used to move my bedroom round on a regular basis so that the furniture was in a different orientation. Only now after all this time am I discovering that there are other ways to alleviate the symptoms, or even keep the feelings at bay completely with a constant stream of new!

So I guess the key to staying happy, sane and motivated is to get up, get out and fill my life with new things (that don't take up precious writing time). Best learn to juggle then!

Awww, look at his happy face. 

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For now sit back, relax and enjoy my favourite track so far off the Imagine Dragons new album. 

Lets not be afraid to be weird, we never know what awesome things we will discover along the way!

Meet the Boss

So a little while ago for daily writing prompts I started a story called The Hell Fire Club and the follow up here. Anyway I haven't written in a while so I thought I would get back into the swing of things and this is the story that has been toying with me. Here is the next installment. Let me know what you think.

*****

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"Miss Taylor. Alistair." Trixie the hostess nodded as she took Frankie's leather jacket from her. Alistair had been right, entering the club the first time had been the worst. She barely broke her stride now. She did, however, still need a few seconds to take in the club as the foyer opened out into all its opulence. Frankie really wasn't used to all this splendor; two up two downs with her mum growing up and dingy flats through uni were her thing. Getting used to Alistair's way of doing things was taking a little time.

Taking Alistair's offered arm she leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Is there a particular reason Trixie is so familiar with you? I mean with everyone else it seems to be Miss or Sir but you're on first name terms." She finished raising her eyebrow for effect.

"I've told you before I have been coming for a long time."

"Yeah, so have most of the old dudes in here. Come on, there is a lot you don't tell me Alistair and I can handle it, mostly. But at some point you are going to have to start giving something up! Why not start with something small?"

"Hmmm." Alistair had a pensive look on his face as they slid into their usual booth and was staring across the room at the guy Frankie assumed was the owner, he was always there surveying his empire.

"I mean if you two had a thing it's fine. You seem to be over it now. I assume the split was amicable? You are both being positively adult about it. "

"Something like that." Alistair replied, still distracted.

"Hey Mr." Frankie said waving her hand in front of his face. "Conversation over here. Plus we are supposed to be celebrating something, but someone wouldn't tell me what. I dressed up and everything." Frankie pouted and that finally brought Alistair back to the here and now.

"I'm sorry, I....I'm sorry." Alistair sighed with a last quick glance at the guy. "I did promise someone a celebration didn't I?" He said with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

He slid his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. A ring box.

Frankie looked at Alistair, his impeccable hair dark hair brushed back with not a strand out of place as usual and his dark wicked eyes baring down into her soul through her eyes. In the last few months he had taken the half broken woman that she had become, plodding through life like it didn't matter, wasting it on stupid wishes that she could disappear into a world that didn't exist. And he had made her whole again. No more than whole, more than she could ever imagine. Frankie knew that her mouth was probably hanging open by now but she just kept looking from the box to Alistair and back again.

"Are you going to open it?" Alistair asked quietly and for the first time Frankie heard doubt and unease within him.

"I..." Frankie started, touching the box with just the tip of her fingers. Looking up at Alistair, "it's....we've only been together six months...I."

"Open it." He whispered.

Frankie gingerly lifted the small box from the table. The velvet was thick and expensive under her fingers. Taking a deep breath she pulled on the stiff spring and opened the box. She could barely string a sentence together before, now looking at the vintage gold ring sat in the shiny black silk there was no chance of coherent speech. Frankie looked up at Alistair patiently waiting for her reply and back to the beautiful ring; the emerald cut blood red stone, the diamonds set down the asymmetrical band and the filigreed claws holding the captivating stone in place. It was so beautiful, so old, too much.

"It's too much." Frankie whispered finally, her eyes shining bright with the potential for tears.

"It's the only ring I would choose. Don't over think this Frankie, are you happy?"

"More than any other time in my life." Frankie replied, distractedly fingering the ring. "I just don't know if I'm ready for this. It's a big commitment, I'm giving you me and you'll be giving me you...forever. Are we ready?"

Closing his hands around Frankie's and snapping the box to in the centre, taking a breath. "Just think about it, please. Think about what we have. I don't know about you but I don't want it to ever end."

All Frankie managed was a nod as she watched Alistair slip the little red box into her bag. With a sigh she knelt on the booth seat and turned toward the bar. Will, the bartender spotted her and she just mouthed 'Rough Day' then turned to sit down.

"What was that?" Alistair asked. But before Frankie could answer Will arrived at the table. Now he was out from behind the bar it was much more obvious how well toned he was by how well fitting his stripped waistcoat was and Frankie only noticed now the spatterdashes  that he wore over his boots. There were things all over this place that made you feel like you were stuck in some kind of time-warp.

"Two glasses?"

"I think so Will, thanks. And maybe the bottle?" Frankie replied. Alistair meanwhile was sat stunned.

"I took that as a given Frank! I brought the Don, you look like you need it tonight." Will winked, his reptilian eye flicking sideways, and after pouring two shots of Don Eduardo Silver Tequila set the bottle on the table.

"You know all my favourites." Frankie smiled.

"Ah, there she is. Few more of those and you'll be back giggling."

"Not sure that's the answer tonight Will, but thanks."

"Well give me a shout if you run out of lime." He said turning to leave without even acknowledging Alistair's existence. Usually the world revolved around the men in here and she was an added extra, but Will had been a friend these past few months. There to run to when things got a little too weird or when she needed a little time out from the lecherous old men that sometimes needed to speak with Alistair when she was there.

"So Frank, we're on the hard stuff tonight huh?" Alistair asked. Was that jealousy that flashed across his face? Nah, she was reading too much into that.

"Don't get me wrong champagne is lovely. But sometimes tequila is what a situation requires." Frankie smiled, "let's try and enjoy the rest of the night? I know it's not the celebration you were hoping for."

"Frankie, you never cease to amaze me. That is a cause to celebrate in its self." With that he nodded in the direction of the stage and it was only then that Frankie realised there hadn't been any performers on yet, which was unusual, just the band playing various background pieces. The lights dimmed and the heavy bass kicked in. Before even the first spark hit the stage she knew the fire poi dancers were back. They hadn't seen them since their first visit to the Hellfire Club but Frankie asked almost every time if they were on the bill.

"How?" 

"Anything for you."Alistair smiled handing her her glass and clinking them in an unspoken toast to them.

*

The fire held no captivation for Alistair that night. He just watched the glow of the flames dance on her skin, he watched the amazement in her eyes and he felt the beat pulse through their intertwined fingers. Slowly he came to the realisation this time he meant every word he said. That singular thought scared the hell out of him. In three centuries none of them had realised, none of them had guessed what the contract held and it made her all the more attractive. He wasn't going to be able to give her up and as that dawned on him he caught sight of Leonard watching him watch Frankie. How much had he seen? Was she safe? He hadn't gotten out of the first mess he got himself into and now he was walking head-long into another.

Alistair was no longer watching Frankie; his eyes were firmly on Leonard at the blackjack table. Their stares meeting across the club as the poi dancing rolled seamlessly onto Frankie’s favourite singer. The sultry tones of Madame Kitzsch melted out from the stage while the smell of sulphur still hung in the air from the fire, smoke clinging to the floor.

“Dance with me.” Alistair blurted out.

“But no one else is dancing.” Frankie replied.

“I don’t care. I need you close to me. Come on.” He said again standing and taking her hand, pulling her to her feet.

They moved on to the dance floor and Alistair pulled Frankie against him. She really did look exquisite tonight; wearing a floor length deep amethyst satin number, she shone like a gem amongst all the blood red of the club. Tonight he really felt her as they moved to the slow rhythm of the music, how their bodies fit together, how they moved in sync. They cut a path through the smoke clinging to the dance floor like birds through the clouds.

“What’s wrong Alistair? This isn’t just a delayed answer.” Frankie spoke into Alistair’s neck.

“Frankie, pretty soon I am going to have to tell you some things, but now is not that time. Right now someone is coming, whatever happens be careful. You know enough to be careful around him.”

Frankie pulled back to look at him and saw fear, quickly masked under the businessman mask she had seen many times before.

“Remember this above all. I love you, I really do” He whispered. And pulled her close to prolong what remained of the dance as he watched Leonard approach from the gambling tables.

“Well you two make a rather cute pair don’t you.” The voice made Frankie jump closer to Alistair, making the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly.

“Good evening Leonard.” Alistair bowed his head slightly, “Frankie this is Leonard he runs the Hellfire Club.”

“So this is the infamous Frankie?” Leonard turned to Frankie, “My dear I have been remiss in not seeking you out sooner. Or Alistair here has been downright rude keeping you all to himself.” Alistair caught the annoyance in his tone and wished that leaving the club would solve their problems. He hoped at this point it was still an option.

“Leonard, it’s a pleasure.” Frankie, confident as anything stepped up and held out her hand for the King of Hell to take.

A triumphant grin spread across Leonard’s face as he took Frankie’s hand to lay a kiss across the knuckles. All the time keeping eye contact with Alistair.

“Would you mind old chap if I cut in for this dance?” Leonard sleazed, keeping hold of Frankie’s hand.

Alistair tightened his grip around her waist, “its ok Alistair. I believe Leonard owes me a dance given the interruption.” He let his arm loosen and she slipped away from him straight onto the arm of the most dangerous person here. Yet she seemed in control of the situation, was that beautiful pixie haired woman going stop amazing him…ever?

*   *   *

Leonard was completely different to Alistair. Where Alistair was gentle Leonard was forceful and Frankie was pulled against him in a possessive vice like grip. Frankie could feel that he was well built compare to Alistair’s toned and athletic physique. They had the same dark eyes though, but somehow Alistair saw her and had a cheeky wickedness to him. Leonard’s eyes just seem to be wicked and searching for what they can have and own, they made Frankie’s skin crawl. But she had met men like Leonard before. He was no different than the scum that took her when she was sixteen, she was stronger now. Not physically…but there is more than one way to skin a cat.

The song had a staccato feel to it; Leonardo was using that and moving them around the floor. Frankie caught a glimpse of Will watching them looking almost like he was going to throw up and most of the club was watching them too, it was like the club and its occupants had collectively held its breath.

“So, is this your song then?” Frankie asked, making conversation as they moved.

“What makes you say that?” he asked

“The nod to Kitzsch as we moved away from Alistair.”

“Very perceptive. It’s one of many. I guess you could say it fits with my personality.” Leonard smiled.

“So we can safely say your halo need a polish like mine then?” Frankie smiled; maybe she could work with this,

“Oh no sweetness, it hangs off my horns.” His laugh echoed over the music.

The Bookshop Tour

Oh I have a friend that is sooooooo going to be like this with me!

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All because I have been promising to read a book forever (ok so there is probably more than one friend and more than one unread book but I agree with Lemony Snicket!)

found on Pinterest here

But I got an amazing book for Christmas and really couldn't resist it! It's all my weird and lovely colleague's fault for she introduced me to Jen Campbell and the Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops books. They are books that had me ahhhing, nodding and out right laughing with every other quote, even though I have never worked in a bookshop most things translated to libraries. So when I got Jen's new book for Christmas, The Bookshop Book, it just kept winking at me until I picked it up and sneaked a peak. And another one. Then another, well you get the picture.

Sat there nice and cosy in front of the crackling log fire in Northumberland with plans to visit my favourite bookshop in the coming days guess which bookshop the opened onto?...Yes, my favourite bookshop Barter Books, Alnwick. It did raise a little chuckle. Then I did what every good bibliophile should do, I began at the beginning and continued to the end! This tour by page did not disappoint. It was full of little nuggets of wonder and brilliance. Full of rabbit holes for you to follow, books to add to the never ending To Read List and even a few blogs to check out.

But worse than that (at least for my other half) rekindled some dreams and tickled my wanderlust. I now have a list of bookshops circling the globe to visit and a new Pinterest board to gather my thoughts on for my dream bookshop.

I truly loved reading about all the wonderful bookshops all over the world; the ones I want to visit from Wigtown, Scotland to Storytellers Inc. Lancashire and across the pond to places like the Community Bookstore, Brooklyn New York. Jen even had me wanting to visit Paris, something I have never wanted to do before. But with the lure of Shakespeare and Co. who could not want to take a look in person; finger those spines, close your eyes to take a deeper breath of that vanillary book smell and pick one off the shelf to curl up with for a while.

More than all of the places I want to visit, which to be frank would need a gap year and a lottery win to fund, were all the places I wanted to share with friends. Cook and Book, dine on a meal selected from a cookbooks, at that point I said out loud to some rather quizzical looks, "Oh Sandra would love that." And so many book shops steeped in the history of the Beat authors I just kept thinking Connor would love this one and this one and this one and I could see him spending a night or two sleeping at Shakespeare and Co. writing and more. Yes there are bookshops mentioned with beds in where you can sleepover (new bucket list item I think!).There were so many more, too many to mention. I guess that is why I have been going around enthusing about this book so much. Trying to get people to add this to their to read list.

It has been a long time since a book has had me furiously scribbling notes so I don't forget which parts I loved. Even longer since I wanted to start straight back at the beginning as soon as I finished and a little longer still since I cringed when someone asked to borrow my copy, not because I'm precious I know the person will be careful (she's a librarian) but because I'm just not sure I will ever be done referring to it!

I don't even usually review books but I seem to have walked into doing just that! Seriously Jen, well played! But this book is a bit like the gravy of my roast dinner book list, and everyone knows you can't have a roast dinner without gravy.

Now, one of my most favourite parts of the author interviews was that most ended with them describing their dream bookshop so I thought I would do the same, here goes....

It would be warm and welcoming, light but cosy. There would be log fires, coffee and cakes. The cafe would do themed children's meals depending on the story time theme/author of the month theme. There would be comfy chairs and places to sit all over the place and a young adult area too. I'd have arts involved somewhere, somehow with a gallery space and a corner where people can drop in and work on their art or creative journals and if they use our resources there'd be an honesty box system. Oh and a story time chair, which if you know me you know I would probably never sit in as I prefer to sit on the floor with the kids, but it's a must.

So I've told you my perfect place, what about you. What's in your perfect bookshop?

Today's track, Youth Lagoon - Daydream, is a recommendation by the aforementioned Connor. Have a listen, and a daydream about bookshops for a while. Then when you're done if you fancy something completely different to here bob on over to his blog and have a read.

PS Happy New Year ;-) Better late than never!