I’m not looking forward to going to bed tonight. It’s going to be one of those humid nights where the bedsheets stick to your dampened limbs and you wake up feeling like you’ve battled against an army all night.

Just finished a book called The Musician’s Daughter by Rupert Holmes, which was very good. The original title of the book was Swing, and in their wisdom the publishers decided to change the title for their UK edition.

I guess that they were targeting a different demographic over here, trying to market the book as something akin to all those other books named after the daughter of a ‘memory-keeper’, or a pirate (which I recently read) or an abortionist. However, I felt that the original name was much more appropriate to the spirit of the novel. They also removed the complimentary CD of music which was attached to the original book. Sure I can download it from his website, but it’s not the same.

Moan, moan, moan. I know. My only excuses are the heat, and an annoying bellyache. Bedtime.

Written by PJ | Posted in reading

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