V.I. Warshawski

I've always been a reader. Reading and books are my lifeline. When I can't sleep, feel homesick, miss people or places, am overcome with anxiety/sadness/anger/frustration, 10 minutes of a Harry Potter, an Agatha Christie, or Adrian Mole, and perspective is restored and calm resides again.

I have always loved a crime thriller, and while a dedicated follower of Agatha Christie, Sue Grafton, and more recently Steig Larsson, I am always on the lookout for more. And thanks to my step-mother for introducing me to the wonderful Sara Paretsky, and her heroine, the ballsy, brash and sarcastic VI Warshawski.

I have managed to devour two and am currently on a third in recent months. The series is ongoing, and chronological (although reading them as such is not a necessity - I have failed miserably at this and am still addicted).

The stories are fast-paced, at times dangerous and violent, but there is a confidence that you, as the reader, has in the heroine. She is scatty, untidy and disogranised. She drinks neat whiskey, can't start the day without a run, and lives in a permanent state of disarray and untidiness. Maybe it is this that has instilled such great confidence in her. She is a real person, and for all her messiness on the outside, I empathise with her - I am the same. A mess on the outside, yet obsessive and organised on the inside.

She is quick-witted, impulsive (often to the point of regret) and dry. Her sarcastic put-downs make for satisfying reading, and the many characters she has in her life are people one can recognise in one's own life. The interfering and yet well-meaning neighbour, the close, yet judgemental female friend, the ex-partners, some of which remain friends, others that quickly become enemies.

Each story starts feeling a little mundane, and then the pace quickens, the various plotlines are pulled together, and the story climaxes with some near death incident. Everything is explained (often not clear as crystal, but who cares - you know on closer inspection it would hold) and often Warshawski has successfully bought down some corrupt institution or company, and in the process is righting some social ill.

They are, all round a satisfying read; perfect for a sleepless night, long tube journey, or lazy holiday. And because the heroine has no qualms about indulging regluarly in a large, straight Johnny Walker, there is not a hint of guilt to settling down with the book and a large gin and tonic.

Panda facts

A few weeks ago a book of 100 Facts about Pandas arrived on my desk (I say my desk - I share it with a few others). So each morning I've been having a quick flick through, learning a fact or two, sometimes sharing a fact with a presenter, guest or celebrity paper reviewer, or whoever is wandering around in the office.



The best thing about this book is the lovely pictures, illustrating each fact. For example, did you know that a panda hears with its nose and smells with its ears? Or that agressive pandas were responsible for the injuries of 8 cavers admitted to emergency rooms in China between 1995-2000? And that you are never more than four hours away from a panda?


I've always loved pandas, and so having this book really meant a lot to me. And I thanked whoever had put it on my desk. That was, until I shared another classic panda fact (did you know, a group of pandas is called a cupboard? And they only ever live in even numbers - should another panda join the group another must leave, or they need to find another one) with a colleague. Who burst out laughing. And informed me that the book had been deliberately planted on my desk, and that all these so-called "facts" were complete and utter rubbish.



The thing that upset me most was not the number of people with whom I had shared these facts (although, yes this was a little embarassing - there are definitely a few MPs who may be sharing incorrect panda facts at this very moment), but that there wasn't a little panda hospital, that in fact they do not weigh up to six times more when wet, and that you cannot comfort a baby panda with a fax machine.

St Boris's Hospital for sick Pandas

On second viewing, I am faintly embarrassed that I fell for the book for so long (in my defense, some of the facts are definitely feasible, nowhere on the book is there mention of it being humorous, and it is full of some very convincing photos). Perhaps the most ridiculous (although my personal favourite) fact was that due to a bureaucratic error, the panda is in fact classified not as a mammal, but as a nut.

The power of context

I've recently discovered (and finished) an incredible series of books. They have been published posthumously by a Swedish author, Steig Larsson, and the first in the series is called "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo".

These books are incredibly good. They are intricate, thrilling, gory, and yet have a depth to them that can often be lacking in crime thrillers. Possibly the weakest part of the book is the title (in it's original language, the book was titled the far more apt "Men who hate women").

Throughout the trilogy there are many literary references that have spurred me on to try authors I had not yet read, or indeed in some cases, had not even heard of. A very rewarding one has been Sara Paretsky, a crime novelist who also favours a strong female loner for her main character.

On doing a little more research I discovered that there were plans for as many as 10 more books in the Lisbeth Salander series, and it seems that the loss of Larsson may well be a profound loss to the literary world (he was named the second best-selling author in the world in 2008)

I also discovered that Larsson never married his longterm partner, meaning that at the time of his (untimely) death, she was not named in his long-outdated will. And because they had never married, she was left with nothing. Yet they never married because (apparently) in Sweden, if you marry, you are obliged to publish your address, and due to the nature of Larsson's work, this was not a very good idea.

Both this fact, finding out the original title, and Larsson's sudden death have all combined to deepen the appeal of the Millenium trilogy. It struck me that by giving this additional context to the book, many aspects of the Sweden that is represented seem darker, and events of the novels all the more tragic.

It's funny what little things can do for the understanding of the whole.

A rite of passage

One of the brilliant things about having a job is

a) having money (at least theoretically)
b) having less free time to spend said money (ok, so not a great bonus, but you should see me with a bit of freetime... topshop ransacked in a day)

It makes me feel better that with my usual shift at work, due to starting at the godforsaken hour of 6am, my break is at 9am. Good time, as there are no shops open (at least no good ones, although saying that, I even managed to spend the best part of £20 in Boots last week).

This week, however, I am having a lunch break at the proper time for eating lunch - 1 until 2pm. And being based in the very central point of Leicester Square, I cannot avoid the delights of shopping. It's only an hour, I can't do much damage in an hour.

Oh yes I can.

Under the guise of getting the father a birthday present I've ventured out every lunchtime this week (don't actually need a guise - my father's list is so appalling that without browsing he will be getting only a card. His list consists of 2 items: Trips to fun and exotic places eg. The Ukraine, Blackpool, and secondly Books about fun and exotic places, eg. The Ukraine and Blackpool).

So three days into the week, and I have managed to buy myself 4 skirts (all black and of a similar style, but essential to my wardrobe - especially as a favourite northerner has "borrowed" my favourite black skirt, hence the necessity of replacements) and three dresses. I have also bought a pair of shoes, three pairs of novelty tights, a pair of earrings and three books.

By wednesday. This is not good.

And so today I reconciled myself to being a responsible adult. And I actually TOOK THINGS BACK!! It pained me. And I did actually snatch a skirt back from the assistant (it has layers of black lace, and is virtually completely different from most of my other skirts). And kept a dress (very practical - has given me an opportunity to wear my new gold belt) and the earrings (can't return those) and some tights (but those are really important, what with the onset of winter and all) and a book (need to keep the mind educated). But aside from that I took everything back.

I felt the need to share this. If only for the congratualtions I'm hoping to receive from fellow shopaholics. It really felt like a rite of passage.

I rewarded myself on the way home with a necklace. But at £7 , and with all the money I made by taking things back, I practically made money by getting it.