Happy Monday bookish people! I hope you are all having a good day today.
Today I am sharing my book review for The Covent Garden Ladies by Halle Rubenhold, I got hold of a copy of this book while I was at the Capital Crime Festival in London earlier this year, I hadn’t heard of it before but I am glad that I gave this non-fiction book a chance.
Blurb/Synopsis:
The Covent Garden Ladies tells the story of Samuel Derrick, Jack Harris, and Charlotte Hayes, whose complicated and colorful lives were brought together by the publication of Harris’ List, an infamous guidebook of prostitutes which detailed addresses, physical characteristics and “specialties.” The true history of the book is a tragicomedy motivated by poverty, passionate love, aspiration, and shame. Its telling plunges the reader down the dark alleys of 18th-century London’s underworld, a realm populated by tavern owners, pimps, punters, card sharps, and of course, a colorful range of prostitutes and brothel-keepers.
My Review:
I would first like to say that nonfiction is not my usual genre, I don’t read a lot of it because I sometimes find the information a bit dense to read but this novel is descriptive in the way that a fiction book would be even though the stories it tells are the truth.
This book follows three key people in the world that inspired the TV show Harlots, I found it really interesting to read about people I had never heard of before and how each of them struggled through life, they each had different struggles they had to fight through but somehow all of their stories intersected with one another. I read this book very quickly, every time I put it down I was excited to get back to reading it. If you are interested in reading about people, often people who are misunderstood in society, and the actions that changed the directions of their lives.
Have any of you read this book? Let me know what you thought of it in the comments!
Happy Monday bookish people! I hope you are all having a good day today!
Today I am bringing you my book review for Rivals of the Ripper: Unsolved Murders of Women in Late Victoria London, a non-fiction book that I bought and read recently.
Blurb/Synopsis:
Jack the Ripper is the quintessential Victorian serial killer, and the debate continues with regard to the number of his victims. But there is a profusion of unsolved murders of London women from late Victorian times, and this book presents 11 of the most gruesome and mysterious of them. Marvel at the convoluted Kingswood Mystery and the unsolved Cannon Street Murder of 1866; shudder at the Hoxton Horror and the Great Coram Street Murder of 1872; be puzzled by the West Ham Disappearances and by the unsolved railway murder of Elizabeth Camp in 1898. There are many books about the Whitechapel fiend, but this is the first one to detail the ghoulish handiwork of the Ripper’s rivals.
My Review:
Okay, so my thoughts are going to be short so here we go: I am not a big nonfiction reader, I struggle to get interested in it usually but that was not a problem with this book at all. I am fascinated with victorian crime, particularly Jack the Ripper as I know a lot of people are but this book was something I happened to find and I thought ooh, it is interesting because it tells of these stories of women who are never mentioned and yet their cases never got solved. I could see a lot of similarities between some of these murders and the Ripper as well which was also very interesting. I found some of these so intriguing that I looked them up to get further information too so if you like this period of history you will probably like this book. Also, one last thing I will mention is that in nonfiction usually you can sense the bias of the writer but I didn’t figure out the writers bias in any of the unsolved crimes which I felt made the reading experience much better.
Happy Saturday bookish people! I hope you are all having a good day today. I am bringing you a book spotlight on the ‘BreakevenBooks book tour for Baby Bandage by Dr Laurie Zelinger.
Blurb/Synopsis:
Baby Bandage and the First Aid Healing little Hurts and Booboos is an adorable, colorful, engaging, educational and universal book that captures the interest of young children, while using clever language that also appeals to adults. Children “Dr Zelinger’s Baby Bandage is another must-have for parents, health professionals, educators, and all who love or care for children. Her endearing characters, engaging and age-appropriate story, and accompanying parent notes help to alleviate the anxiety and fear often associated with childhood injuries while reinforcing the family values of love, empathy, and resiliency.” — Darlene Glasser, RN, MSED, Retired school nurse “I absolutely loved Baby Bandage! Dr. Zelinger’s characters and fun illustrations take the fear out of ‘booboos’ and all the things associated with them. In addition, her skillful storytelling weaves in essential lessons on confidence, patience, and recognizing the important roles we all play in this world. Baby Bandage is a wonderful resource for parents and educators alike. — Linda Abraham MLS, Peninsula Public Library “Dr. Zelinger creates a make-believe world where first aid remedies are personified. Through story and illustration, children enter this world and discover that bandages come in all sizes, colors, and shapes and have different and important roles. Young children love covering their ouchies; this story will hold their attention and teach them valuable lessons. As an early childhood educator and a grandma, I recommend Baby Bandage to encourage dialogue about little hurts and booboos.” — Barbara Alster, MS, early childhood education teacher.
Author Bio:
Dr. Laurie Zelinger’s passion for helping children is reflected in her work and numerous booksthat tackle issues of concern to children and their families. She is a board-certified psychologist and credentialed play therapist with over 45 years’ experience working in schools, developmental centers and private agencies, as well as in her busy private practice, devoted exclusively to children. Her passion for writing began when she discovered journaling in third grade, and which was then fortified in fourth grade when she wrote a play that was performed by students in her public school. As an adult, she has successfully blended her love of helping children with her writing talent, creating topical, educational books that appeal to kids and their parents.
Dr. Zelinger’s books for Loving Healing Press include: Please Explain Anxiety to Me: Simple Biology and Solutions for Children and Parents, Please Explain “Time Out” to Me: A Story for Children and Do-It-Yourself Manual for Parents, Please Explain Vaccines to Me Because I Hate Shots!”, Please Explain Alzheimer’s Disease to Me: A Children’s Story and Parent Handbook About Dementia”, Please Explain Tonsillectomy & Adenoidectomy to Me: A Complete Guide to Preparing Your Child for Surgery and Please Explain Terrorism to Me: A Story for Children and P-E-A-R-L-S of Wisdom for Their Parents! Dr. Zelinger has also worked with American Girl where she wrote A Smart Girl’s Guide to Liking Herself Even On The Bad Days and is credited with being a consultant for their Bitty Baby book series, where she assisted in the development of the “For Parents” sections. In addition, Dr. Zelinger has written for Play Therapy magazine, as well as for therapeutic books, where her chapters offer strategies that can be used with fearful children. Dr. Zelinger’s additional credentials include media referral specialist for the American Psychological Association, four years as director on the executive board of the New York Association of Play Therapy and an elected position as officer in the American Academy of School Psychology. As a sought-after expert on children’s behavior, Dr. Zelinger has contributed to nearly 200 venues regarding child development. She and her psychologist husband, Dr. Fred, are both certified Red Cross Disaster Mental Health volunteers. They have been happily married for over 40 years, have raised four children and relish their roles as grandparents.
If you would like to see more content from this tour check out the rest of the schedule here:
Happy Wednesday bookish people! So… it’s Wednesday and that means it is time for another Where’d I Leave It Wednesday story. In case you are confused about the title this time being ‘Dobwalls’ it is a place in Cornwall, England and that is where my partner’s Father lives and so I’ve been down there a few times and I thought why not share a couple of things that have happened while I’ve been there on my blog. Well, actually there’s plenty of reasons why not but I’m going to continue anyway before I overthink it.
So as I said, there is a lot of things that I could talk about in relation to visiting Dobwalls but I will start at the beginning. It’s not too long a drive from where I am to Dobwalls, It’s usually about half an hour – not even long enough to start reading a book which is what I do most times that I am in a car – but I was very nervous the first time I went there. My Dad was driving me, because of course being classed as blind I really can’t drive myself, and when we arrived he came in with me as well. I remember sitting at their kitchen table with a cup of tea and not saying anything. Note: this not saying anything is a recurring feature. And as soon as I could I went on a little tour of the house with my partner, and yes I was nosy and I was looking at all the photos on the walls as we went around. They also have two dogs, a Jack Russell called Sparky and a Staffordshire Terrier called Tia. I never expected the bark of a Jack Russell to make me jump so badly, but it did (and still does…). That’s not even the worst thing that makes me jump when I’m there, my Partner’s Father – his sneezes. My partner thinks it is hilarious that everytime he sneezes I almost fall out of my seat. I’d quite like to stay in my seat, it takes me long enough to find the seat to begin with. It looks like I’m trying to kick their chairs but I’m not it is just how I would find the seats down there.
I’m pretty sure that my Partner’s father thinks I’m terrified of him, which I am but I was hoping he wouldn’t discover this, and if he didn’t think I was before he almost certainly did after I ran out of a room he entered. Yes, I did say run. He was downstairs talking to my partner and my partner’s brother so myself and my partner’s stepmum had gone upstairs and I was talking to her in her bedroom. That was nice, she’s a lovely person and I felt quite comfortable having a conversation with her. Then I heard someone of the stairs. When I realised it was my partner’s father I all but jumped off the bed and ran from the room to the safety of the room I was staying in and shut the door. That was… embarrassing to say the least. He then came to the door and said that I didn’t need to leave the room just because he entered it..I’m so glad there was a door between us when he said that.
So that’s two things that have happened while I’ve been in Dobwalls and I’m going to leave this story here. I hope you all enjoyed it and if you did maybe I will write a couple more of the things that have happened or will happen in the future because I’m sure I will continue embarrassing myself.
Happy Thursday Bookish people! I’m very happy to bring you my book review for Happy Ever After: Financial Freedom Isn’t A Fairy Tale by The Seven Dollar Millionaire today as it is my stop on the book tour! Thank you to Literally PR for sending me a copy of this book.
This book review is going to be a little different to how I usually do them because there are no plots or characters to rate. So what I am going to do is write about the really great parts of the book, what some of the chapters are about and give an overall rating for the book.
I hope you enjoy this book review!
Book Review:
I don’t read a lot of nonfiction so this is not my usual genre, however I was surprised by this book. I expected a book talking exclusively about money and savings to not be very interesting. I was proved wrong by this book. I will say I didn’t enjoy this book in the usual sense of enjoying a book I am reading but I can appreciate that it had many great parts to it.
For example, the book has got a slight narrative. Throughout the book there are illustrations and chapters written like a fairy tale – it’s even being told to you by a talking frog. For me this did help with breaking up the pages of facts and information. On the topic of the facts and the information, it is written in a clear and concise way. I did find that I understood most, if not all, of what the book was trying to say. I think this is a very good thing that the author has managed to do because it easily could have been filled with mathematical terms and be difficult to understand.
Going into this book I already think about my money and the best way to save often, because I can get quite panicked about the future and having my finances sorted is a way of making me feel safer. This book taught me there is still more ways I can prepare myself for the future in terms of my savings and my spending each month.
It has a variety of chapters in this book, covering the M.I.S.S.I.O.N, income, saving, spending, investing and ownership. One of the most interesting chapters for me was about investing. Before this book I didn’t understand what investing was or what it meant, I knew of the term but I didn’t actually know what it was so I found learning about it very interesting.
I think this is an important topic because money and saving is very rarely spoken about yet it’s one of the most common worries that people have, so I think this book is something that I would recommend to anyone interested in learning more about money.
Overall I would rate this book:
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 4 out of 5.
That’s it for this book review, I hope you all enjoyed it!
Happy Wednesday bookish people! It’s Wednesday which means it’s time for another Where’d I Leave It Wednesday! I’ve decided to stick with a similar way of writing as last week’s story, let me know what you think!
Today’s story is all about swimming, of course when I go swimming (it’s rare) I have to leave my cane and glasses in the changing room… the world looks very strange without them..
On to the story!
It wasn’t blue, not completely but a turquoise colour. A turquoise with diagonal stripes of deep blue, like a turquoise and blue zebra had melted on the floor and left a puddle. An extremely deep puddle. That strangers will float around in like human versions of ducks in a bath. Usually wearing ridiculous things like bikini tops with no straps. Even though water is like a stronger version of gravity to those things. That is how I see a swimming pool – a swirling, whirling pit of green and blue merging together. I imagine jumping in would feel like catapulting myself into it’s wide open mouth. Of course, I only imagine it, I would never be stupid enough to actually jump in. Maybe one day an overzealous scientist who believes they will change the life of someone like me, for the price of a classical painting that is, will invent eyewear that stops a pool from drowning your eyes in salt at the same time as allowing me to stop imagining melted zebras at the local sports centre. Like a Gucci version of goggles. How fancy. The envy of every blind person. Until then I just can’t visit any zoos. Swimming and I, we’ve never gotten along too well. From the first time I waded into the blurry expanse of the pool. And by that, I mean ‘gently’ guided in by a teacher after having a tantrum, worse than a toddler told no in a supermarket, before I’d even left the changing area. I shrieked, I cried, I ended up in the water anyway. Clinging to one of those coloured pool noodles made of foam like it was the last remaining lifeboat on the Titanic. Our relationship only got worse from there. A tumultuous relationship that most recently led to an embarrassing moment with a toddler. It wasn’t even my child. When my sister asked me to go swimming with her and her friend, I didn’t realise we would be bringing along the crazed energy that is her five-year-old son. Generally, I love children. Having an uncensored, often brutally honest, conversation with them can be refreshing. But her son could make the most pious nun renounce God and never go to church again if it meant getting away from him. As soon as he clambered into his car seat with yellow armbands on, that could have fit an elephant, I knew that day was not going to be as simple as just swimming in water I couldn’t see. The armbands absorbed the top of his arms like the sleeves of a 1980s wedding dress. Each time he moved they knocked against each other and created a long drawn out squealing noise. If I had any pins in my hair, I would have used one to pop them. Oh dear, he wouldn’t have been able to go swimming. What a shame. Unfortunately I didn’t have anything so her son did end up swimming with us. By us I mean me, considering his mother disappeared to the opposite end of the pool with my sister as soon as we entered. They stayed in the deep end of the pool, swimming around like sharks drunk off mischief. Being short and well, blind, I went no further than the water skimming my hips which meant being an unwilling babysitter. He even began calling me Auntie. I am not his Auntie; he has one who lives in Wales. If I was an Auntie, and my sister had somehow reproduced, I would definitely not take them swimming. I would also make sure their parent was in close proximity so that I could hand them back quickly. I couldn’t do that when his mum was down the other end of the pool. I thought that perhaps he would be bored or scared after being in the pool for an extended amount of time but instead he was taking large jumps, as large as he could with toddler sized legs suspended in water. He made for an ungraceful ballerina. It was during one of these leaps that one of his curled-up feet caught on the mottled texture at the bottom of the pool. His face barely had time to crease in anticipation of a complaint before it smacked into the water and disappeared beneath the turquoise. The speed of which he fell pushed his bottom half to the floor of the pool and he bounced there for a moment. The sound echoed around and reached his mother but I had already reached under and pulled his head back out of the water. She stayed at the other end of the pool. Water cascaded down his forehead and dribbled from his chin. His eyes were squeezed shut. I was already preparing for his next move; he might begin to cry or he might make a dash for the stairs to exit the pool. Not that I would have minded had he wanted to vacate the pool as fast as possible. I thought there had been enough adrenaline for one day. Neither option was what he did. His little hands bunched up around his waist and before I had time to ask if he was okay, he pulled his swimming trunks down and let them inflate in the water. He stood there proudly naked in a public swimming pool and said “kiss it better Auntie”. I don’t think so.
That’s it for today’s story, I hope you all enjoyed it!
Happy Wednesday bookish people! It is that time again where I tell you about one of my experiences that may or may not be funny. Today I’m doing something a bit different, usually I just write out the story but one of the modules on my University course was Creative Non-fiction where I wrote a few pieces about my experiences. This story is about how my cane picks up leaves. I hope you enjoy it!
I have more leaves gathered in my bedroom than there are in the park that is just beyond my front door. I’m not a collector in any way. Well, I am when it comes to books and pin badges, but definitely not leaves. They sit on my purple carpet, crinkling in agony when I walk over them. Most of them are torn. Flakes of brown and orange strewn around the floor. A friend of mine asked me if I’d spilt a box of Cornflakes and not picked them up. I told her it wasn’t but at that time we were already running late and I couldn’t explain that actually it was the corpses of leaves. I’m not sure that is any less weird.
They get impaled on my cane, like meat on a skewer. I can walk along the street just fine. Well, it’s a different matter entirely when I come across a pile of leaves. By the time I get home there are so many of them, twirling around my cane like orange pole dancers, I barely notice them anymore. They have become part of my room; it would be strange to get rid of them now. “You should hoover them up” I’ve been told by many people before. I can’t bring myself to do it. The leaf that is still green got stuck to the bottom of the cane when I walked through a particularly deep puddle of leaves. It got dragged with me for miles and now it lives on my bedroom floor. The least I can do is provide good hospitality. It’s not as bad as it sounds. My carpet isn’t completely filled with leaves, I leave most of them outside the house when I shake off the cane in the same way as you would an umbrella after closing it.
Picking up leaves isn’t the only thing that happens when I use my cane outside. I usually find that there are two different types of people that notice me on the street. There are the ones who ignore the cane and continue to walk towards me; I enjoy the look of surprise on their face when I don’t move either. Their shoulder will bump into mine; it will be knocked backwards but my legs will remain strong, unmoving in the slippery pavements. They all do the same thing. They turn, mouths open and begin to say “look where you’re going” but they stop when they notice that I’m Visually Impaired. The irony of it always amuses me.
Then there is the second group of people, the ‘helpful’ ones. If a person offers me help and I need it then I will be thankful for the assistance. However, some people don’t ask before ‘helping’. I must have an expression that screams help me. The one I remember most vividly was on a cold day, it must have been Autumn because the air was cold and the metal of my cane had been turning my fingers red as I held onto it tightly. The leaves had already begun falling. They were cutting into my skin like cat’s claws on a scratching post, climbing up my boots higher and higher. I was stood at a crossing, waiting for the man to turn from red to green as I usually do. I can’t tell when there is a space to cross between cars so I wait for the green man. There is a cone on the bottom of the Pelican crossing control panel where I press the button. If I put my finger on it and wait when it turns green the cone spins. It’s useful for sunny days when I can’t see the colours of the man.
Anyway, returning to the strange incident I remember. I was stood there waiting, rolling the ball on the bottom of my cane over the bumps by the edge of the road, when I felt a hand on my arm. It pulled gently and I moved with it. My feet stumbling over each other past the pavement on the other side and across another crossing, then another and then another all at once. I didn’t have the chance to look at who was pulling on me until they stopped walking and let go. I caught my breath while looking at them. It was a lady, if I had to guess she was probably around sixty years old, and she was smiling at me. I knew I had to be polite so I said thank you and watched her walk away down the street. She was only trying to be nice is what I told myself as I slowly moved back to the crossing that the lady had just walked me across. If she had given me a chance to talk, I would have been able to tell her that I had only wanted to get across the first crossing and not the three subsequent ones.
Things like this happen to me more frequently than I would like to admit. Once I reached the street that I had originally intended I looked down at my feet. There, lounging peacefully were clumps of leaves. They were red and orange and yellow. I shook my feet forcefully. Most of the leaves spun away, dancing across the paving stones without partners. Some lay at my feet, as lifeless as if I had killed them. They were submerged in puddles of water, reflecting the colours like a spilt paint box. Curling, closing themselves up into small orange cylinders, like orange Wotsits drowning in the puddles underneath my feet. Of course, they didn’t all extract themselves from me. I carried stowaways under my boots, which I didn’t realise until I reached my house. I carefully peeled them from my soles and let them drift to the purple carpet. Becoming part of the garden in my bedroom.
That’s the end of today’s story, let me know if you liked this style or not and whether you like this style or what I usually write more!
Happy Sunday bookish people! and if you celebrate it – Happy Easter! I hope everyone is having a good day today so far. I knew there would end up being more stories about Shadow, my Sister’s kitten, because he’s a fluffball who loves to cause mischief. So onto part 2 of the Kitten Escapades….
It was Thursday and my Sister and I were sat in the living room doing different things. She had some sort of tv programme on about a detective because it was played by someone she’d seen in another show and she quite liked, this is literally the only reason my Sister watches programmes on tv, If she’s asked for something to be put on the first thing out of our mouths is ‘who’s on it’, annoys her to no end. I was busy working on a script for my Dramatic Writing class. Our Mum was in the kitchen – this feels like I’m going to go off into sing a song of sixpence… which I’m not but it is sounding very similar- anyway, Mum was in the kitchen and we could hear her talking to Shadow. If you have a cat I’m sure you talk to them too. She was saying all the ‘oh have you got a toy’, and ‘aren’t you a good boy playing’ then all of a sudden she went completely silent. My Sister and I didn’t think much of it, we were caught up in each of the things we were doing. Then she called us.
So, me and my Sister go out into the hallway to see what she wants. Mum is there staring into the doorway of the dining room, she had this look on her face which was like half horror and half just pure shock. We moved a bit further round until we could see in the doorway. It was Shadow, curled up on the floor in the doorway like he does when he wants us to think he’s all sweet and innocent – honestly he’s a cat that likes to cause a lot of trouble – and he had something but I couldn’t see what it was. To me it looked like he’d stolen some chocolate out of the cupboard because it was just a shapeless brown lump, to me at least. Then my Sister gasped.
Okay so it wasn’t a lump of chocolate that he’d taken from the cupboard, it was a little mouse. My Mum thinks it was a dormouse but I’m not up on my knowledge of mice breeds so I had, and still have, no idea what type of mouse it was. Other than one that was in the paws of a cat. Our cat. Our indoor cat. So he must have found the mouse somewhere in the house and I really don’t want to know where in the house he got the mouse from.
My Sister bent down and talked to Shadow trying to get him to let her take the mouse. He was patting it, the way you would pat a child on the head, but you know with claws out and thinking the mouse was a new toy. He didn’t let her take the mouse. Instead, he picked the mouse up with his teeth and ran under the dining room table with it. Oh also at this point the mouse was still alive. We got a pot from the kitchen and went back and finally got Shadow to release the mouse. I always thought that when a cat found a mouse it would be very Tom and Jerry and they would be friends but also enemies because nature has made them that way, I was sorely mistaken about this…Shadow then tried to claw my Sister which of course didn’t get her to give him the mouse back. We took the mouse in the pot to the kitchen and shut the door so Shadow couldn’t follow us.
He was crying at the door and meowing the whole time, it’s such a sad sound. He knew he’d been bad. Surprisingly the mouse was still alive. My Sister named it Mickey and we were trying to decide what to do about it. the mouse was so small sitting in the pot and my Sister noticed on it’s side that there was some injuries. So unfortunately little Mickey didn’t last long after that. This was the first, and hopefully only, time that Shadow has brought us any gifts that weren’t hair bands, elastic bands, pens, notebooks, bookmarks or spoons, oh or roast potatoes. We just couldn’t believe that he’d found a mouse, the poor little thing.
That’s it for today’s story, I hope you enjoyed it. I’m sure it won’t be long before Shadow does something else and there will be a Kitten Escapades part 3.
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