That made me think of this Les Mis parody song, which came across my timeline in Facebook last year and made me howl. (I realize celiac is a real disease and people actually need to abstain from gluten. I have nothing against people on strict diets. It's just a funny song).
In my note to myself for what to write about today, I have written "p. 92 Songbook". It's not that I have forgotten what this means - it means I was going to include a quote from page 92 of Nick Hornby's Songbook, because it made me giggle helplessly for a while earlier today. It's that I'm too lazy to go upstairs and stumble around my dark, husband-occupied bedroom looking for it.
Still loving it, though. It has made me smile, well up with tears and laugh out loud, which made one guy at physio comment that it must be a good book and then go on to overshare considerably, causing me to regret my imprudent display of amusement - fortunately his appointment was almost over. I've downloaded several of the songs discussed: Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window? (Wilko Johnson, because I like many Bob Dylan songs, I can't actually stand hearing Bob Dylan sing them - sorry), One Man Guy (Rufus Wainwright's voice - delicious), and probably some others but once again, too lazy to check.
I was noodling around on Goodreads doing that dumbass thing where I'm actively looking for books to add to my ridiculously unmanageable to-read list. To backtrack, last year or the year before I read The Husband's Secret, which was kind of an It Book, which I usually avoid, and sort of seemed chick lit-like, which I also avoid, but whatever. And I really liked it. It wasn't Proust or anything, but it was well-written, the plot was genius and she dealt with some heavy subjects with a light touch. I've read two more of her books and enjoyed them both.
A few months ago I read A Corner of White (which I found by noodling around on Goodreads, which is why I keep doing it even though it's kind of like trying to catch rain in a teacup when you live in a spring-fed lake) and it cracked my head open and poured awesomeness inside and I was wondering why I'd never heard of the author before, so I looked her up and oh, she's Australian, maybe that's why... wait.... Jaclyn Moriarty, Liane Moriarty... holy crap, they're sisters!
Then I went through this whole complicated little exercise where I tried to imagine what it was like when the first sister became successful as a writer, and then the second sister got into the act later but now she's had this breakout book and is probably making a ton of money, but it's kind of okay because both their books are really excellent examples of their chosen genres, which are completely separate from each other and not really comparable (young adult fantasy and women's lit/mystery).
THEN I was on Goodreads the other day (oh shut up, I don't drink or smoke, except for drinking a little), and I was reading a synopsis of a book that sounded interesting and SONOFBITCH, there's another goddamned sister.
I need to read one of her books. But I'm kind of scared to - I'm now way overidentified with this family's sibling politics.