Cantaloupe & Coconut Bread

Sounds yummmmmy!

Jess's avatartherapy bread

I have never been a very big fan of cantaloupe, or melons for that matter. Watermelons are cool with me but anything much past that is just too “musky” for my liking. Try and try again, eating melon balls or cantaloupe halves just makes me cringe a bit.

So why the heck did I make cantaloupe bread?

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Two reasons really:

1) I am still trying to force myself to like it…

2) This is the actual catalyst to the situation: my neighbor recently went out of town for about a week and I was charged with watching her two crazy kitties. Before she left she said, “Jess there is some spinach and a cantaloupe in the fridge, please eat them while I’m gone because I’m sure they won’t be good when I get back”. Cantaloupe. Dun, dun dun… I told her I wasn’t a big fan. She said to try…

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Sakura Festival ~ By Jormungand

Exquisite. Sakura Festival – By Jormungand

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My Kyrosmagica Review of Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami

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Goodreads Synopsis:

Tsukiko is in her late 30s and living alone when one night she happens to meet one of her former high school teachers, ‘Sensei’, in a bar. He is at least thirty years her senior, retired and, she presumes, a widower. After this initial encounter, the pair continue to meet occasionally to share food and drink sake, and as the seasons pass – from spring cherry blossom to autumnal mushrooms – Tsukiko and Sensei come to develop a hesitant intimacy which tilts awkwardly and poignantly into love.

Perfectly constructed, funny, and moving, Strange Weather in Tokyo is a tale of modern Japan and old-fashioned romance.

My review:

I’m a huge fan of Japanese literature and Strange Weather in Tokyo didn’t disappoint. I just loved its quirkiness. Hiromi Kawakami’s writing style has a strange, earthiness, that quietly draws us in. The writing is stark and simplistic portraying Tsuikiko’s loneliness and the growing emotions that slowly develop between the pair of main characters.

Lonely Tsukiko, a woman fast approaching forty, lives alone. One evening she meets a former high school teacher, ‘Sensei’, at a bar. The pair begin an unusual friendship, meeting  by chance at a local bar. He is  an elderly, retired gentleman, who is  full of vigour. She assumes that he is a widower. Delicate details of his character keep us guessing. He carries a briefcase around with him, wears a tweed suit, and leather shoes, even when he goes hiking!

The odd couple continues to meet up, and share food and drink sake. The plentiful Japanese food references will keep foodies like me in rapture.

Sensei’s thoughts on tofu: “Tofu is quite special…it’s good warm. It’s good chilled. It’s good boiled. It’s good fried. It’s versatile.”

“It was sort of like an octopus version of shabu-shabu. Thin, almost-transparent slices of octopus were submerged in a gently boiling pot of water, and them immediately plucked out with chopsticks when they rose to the surface. Dipped in ponzu sauce, the sweetness of the octopus melted in your mouth with the ponzu’s citrus aroma, creating a flavour that was quite sublime. ”

You can just taste the octopus!

We discover little snippets of information about Sensei’s past, his wife’s abandonment of him and their son. In time,  Tsukiko realises that when she’s not with him, she misses him, and wonders how she managed to be happy before. This slow developing almost dream-like sense of their growing feelings for each other slowly develops into love, despite the difficulties associated with a large age gap. The author depicts Tsukiko, in a child like fashion. So in a sense the teacher, student aspect of their relationship still remains. Though Sensei, seems fitter than her! This is amusingly related in the mushroom hunting chapters. The novel is interlaced with a delicate humour, and a sweet sense of sadness, as the couple come to terms with the inevitability of life.

“At some point, sitting beside Sensei, I began to notice the heat that radiated from his body. Through his starched shirt, there came a sense of Sensei. A feeling of nostalgia. This sense of Sensei retained the shape of him. It was dignified, yet tender, like Sensei. Even now, I could never quite get a hold on it – I would try to capture it, but the sense escaped me. Just when I thought it was gone, though, it would sneak back up on me…Wasn’t a sensation just that kind of indistinct notion that slips away, no matter how you try to contain it?”

My rating:

5 stars!!!

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About the author

Kawakamki is one of Japan’s most popular contemporary novelists. Strange Weather in Toyko won the Taniziki prize in 2001, and was shortlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize in 2013.
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Strange Weather in Tokyo
By Hiromi Kawakami, 2013
Translated by Allison Markin Powell
Portobello Books www.portobellobooks.com

This is one of the summer reads suggested by the Writers’ Centre Norwich, and the Library Services in Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire, UK. www.summerreads.org.uk

Amazing cover art deserves a mention: http://yowayowacamera.com/

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Have you read Strange Weather in Tokyo? Do leave a comment below I’d love to hear from you.

Bye for now,
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Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx

What’s Up Wednesday

What’s up Wednesday, a lovely idea, by Jaime Morrow and Erin Funk on Victoria Davenports blog, to connect bloggers.

Victoria Davenport's avatarCoffee. Write. Repeat.

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What’s Up Wednesday is a weekly blog hop created by Jaime Morrow and Erin Funk, to help connect writers on this writing journey. If you’d like to join us, check out the blogs each week, get to know some of the other writers taking part, and spread some writerly love! 

What I’m Reading

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The Park Service by Ryan Winfield (Park Service Trilogy #1). I totally happened on this book by accident, I was actually reading another book when I found it and downloaded a sample on my kindle. This book is a perfect example of two things you’re normally not supposed to do (prologue, and opening with MC waking up) and doing them so well it blew my mind (a further blog post to follow regarding rules and how to break them). I was so hooked by the end of the prologue, I put away the other book and haven’t been able…

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Word Count Meters and Tight Writing Resources

Word count meters and resources for writers. Why not?

Waiting – Give it up Before It’s Too Late

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Waiting in queues. Waiting in supermarkets. Waiting in garages. Waiting at the doctors. The list could just go on and on, so I won’t bore you with any more detail. Let’s get to the point – How much of our life do we waste waiting? We spend an amazing amount of time sleeping, a third of our lives, but has anyone documented how much time we spend waiting? It’s not so much the waiting that gets to me, it’s the attitude of certain people who behave as if they own the right to make me wait longer. I’m a patient kind of girl but sometimes it gets to you. You’re waiting in line and the person in front of you decides to empty out their handbag spilling a year’s worth of money off coupons at the checkout. They haven’t bothered to see if they’re valid or not, so the checkout girl has to check each and every coupon. By the time they’ve left, the check out girl and I are in cahoots, talking about their inconsiderate behaviour. Wouldn’t you?

We spend five and a half years doing the housework. (This one really upsets me! I take advice from the fellow below on that one!

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Three years doing our washing. Eleven years in front of the tv. Five years on the Net. Seven years suffering from insomnia. 20 weeks on hold. 38,003hrs eating. Six months of our life queuing. Eleven and a half years at work. A year off sick (no wonder!) 160 days on fag breaks. Five months complaining! It’s amazing we have any time left over to relax or enjoy ourselves.

That leads me to the next statistics, which are a bit risqué, so forgive me, here goes, women spend 1 hour and 24 minutes having orgasms (the female orgasm lasts 1.7 seconds) and men a whopping 9 hours 18 secs. (the male orgasm lasts 12.4 seconds.) Sounds like a bit of a disparity there! Let’s hope some of these ladies weren’t faking it! Women take 136 days getting ready for a night out whereas men only devote 46 days to this. Oh and we spend 115 days laughing too!

The statistics are courtesy of the Daily Mirror so if they’re wrong don’t blame me!

Anyway, getting back to me and waiting. It doesn’t just happen to me at the checkout, no it happens in the garage too!

The other day I was waiting in line to check my tyre pressures, I was in a bit of a hurry, and I could see the guy in front was in go slow mode. He just kept staring at his tyres as if he expected the pump to work without any input on his behalf. Then he walked around his car inspecting it. He then took off every dust cap, and walked leisurely over to the machine.

By this time I was beginning to think a child could have done a quicker job.

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He popped in his money and … he walked so slowly I was sure that he would never get all the tyres done in the time allotted, miraculously he just managed it and no more. I figured he’d cast a spell on the machine. He finished. I sighed. Great, at long last it was my turn now. No way. He opened his bonnet and started to fiddle with his engine. I knew then it was hopeless, so I turned on my engine, and pulled out. He gave me a look as I left, a sort of aren’t you in a hurry kind of look, or aren’t you impatient, or was it a look of triumph? Either way I left, I gave in. Why am I such a softie? No wonder my tyres need inflating!

When I pump up my tyres I always try to be quick if I happen to see someone waiting. What about you? Do you rush or do you stall? If you take your time, why’s that? Are there other more unusual places you’ve been kept waiting? Tell me all about it in the comment box below.

 

Why Beta Readers Make Books Better

Beta readers. Authors information.

Debbie Young's avatarDebbie Young's Writing Life

That tongue-twister heralds news of my new flash fiction collection, Quick Change, due for launch later this month.

Cover of Quck Change flash fiction collection Due for launch as an ebook on 21 June 2014

It’s a nerve-wracking time for any author when their precious manuscript is packed off for final editing and proofreading before publication. This week that’s what’s happening to Quick Change, the collection of flash fiction that I’ll be publishing as an ebook later this month. By the power of the internet, the final draft has zoomed across the ether to the other side of the country, for my editor Alison Jack to give it her expert treatment.

Last week it was the turn of the beta readers to read an earlier version of my manuscript. No, that doesn’t mean I’ve written my book in Greek.

What Are Beta Readers Anyway?

Beta readers are volunteers who read a manuscript prior to publication…

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S’mores Bars

These just look so fabulous I had to reblog the recipe. YUMMMMM ………….

foodlikecake's avatarfoodlikecake

These might be the best things I’ve ever had. They literally taste like a s’more in bar form. You start with an amazing thick graham cracker crust, which you top with a mixture of soft chocolate ganache and mini marshmallows, then you pour more mini marshmallows on top and toast the bars under the broiler. You have to leave the bars in the fridge so the ganache will set, but trust me, it’s worth it. My inspiration is from here, but I used a different crust, pan size, different amount of marshmallows, etc.

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Ingredients: Graham Cracker Crust

1 and 1/2 cups finely crushed graham crackers (10-12 whole graham crackers crushed then measured)

1/4 cup granulated sugar

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Soft Chocolate Ganache (from here)

16 ounces semi-sweet chocolate

1 cup whole milk

10 ounce bag mini marshmallows (separated)

Recipe: Graham Cracker Crust

Blend all ingredients in a…

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Guest Blogger Laura McBride: My Year with Virginia Woolf

Wow, I can so relate to this, sometimes writing can be so engrossing that you forget everyone, and everything else, even food, water, fundamentals, and worst of all your children! Burnt pizza, burnt garlic bread. Yes I forget the food in the oven on a regular basis. Guilty as charged.

Bill Wolfe's avatarREAD HER LIKE AN OPEN BOOK

Laura McBride   Virginia Woolf

Laura McBride is the author of We Are Called to Rise, which is published today (June 3) by Simon & Schuster. She is a professor of English at the College of Southern Nevada in Henderson, just south of Las Vegas, where her novel is set. It has received strongly positive notices and is one of this summer’s must-reads. (Look for my review tomorrow and an interview shortly thereafter.) 

About a million years ago, when I was in college, I did my senior thesis on Virginia Woolf.  It was an odd choice of topic – for an American Studies major – but my department was an easygoing place.  They didn’t mind that I was preparing to launch my deepest academic work on a British author I knew nothing about.  They just asked me to find my own qualified advisor (which they might have thought would be limiting) so…

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My Kyrosmagica Review of Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell

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Synopsis of Eleanor and Park from Goodreads:

Two misfits.
One extraordinary love.

Eleanor… Red hair, wrong clothes. Standing behind him until he turns his head. Lying beside him until he wakes up. Making everyone else seem drabber and flatter and never good enough…Eleanor.

Park… He knows she’ll love a song before he plays it for her. He laughs at her jokes before she ever gets to the punch line. There’s a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes her want to keep promises…Park.

Set over the course of one school year, this is the story of two star-crossed sixteen-year-olds—smart enough to know that first love almost never lasts, but brave and desperate enough to try.

Eleanor and Park – Rainbow Rowell: www.rainbowrowell.com

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My review:

The first line sets the tone for the novel, “XTC was no good for drowning out the morons on the back of the bus.” Eleanor and Park takes us back to Omaha, August 1986, on a nostalgic trip for those of us who remember the 1980’s, myself included! The novel is written in both Eleanor and Park’s, point of view, this works well, and gives the novel a deep insight into both male and female teenagers.

There is only one seat available on the school bus and of course this is next to Park, a Korean kid, with a comic obsession, who listens to music to shut out the banter of the popular kids on the bus. To begin with Park doesn’t know what to make of Eleanor, this new kid who ends up sitting next to him on the last available seat. But in time he warms to her, encouraging her to read his comics, and listen to music. Rainbow Rowell uses the confined space of the seats on the bus to good effect, the two teenagers are so close they are almost touching, the reader can’t wait for them to get closer!

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Eleanor and Park is at its most successful at depicting first love. The little almost imperceptible actions that mean so much, such as Park turning the page for Eleanor as he reads his comic. The words unspoken, the gestures, looking at each others shoes, and admiring them. Even sensory details such as Park reflecting that when Eleanor returned his comics to him they smelt like roses. Above all else, it’s the tenderness of first love, the hand holding, “Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat.” Of course this progresses to their first kiss, and gentle caresses, all these romantic progressions, amount to a heart warming description of first love.

The book also handles a lot of difficult issues, from abusive relationships to bullying.

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Eleanor is bullied because of her size, and dress sense, and because she’s different. Park is culturally different from the other kids, he’s Korean, and this makes him vulnerable too. I related a lot to this as I have experienced problems like this myself when I was growing up, (my mother is Malaysian). Park just about gets by without too much attention by trying to be unobserved, whereas Eleanor draws attention to herself with her weird dress sense. It is as if she is unable to help herself. She is big, white skinned, with shocking red hair, but rather than draw attention away from her hair, or her dress sense she does the opposite, like she is challenging them. No wonder they call her big red. There are even instances when Park wonders what he sees in big Red, at one point he compares her mouth to the Jokers, not exactly very attractive sounding, yet in time he finds her so appealing that he can’t bear to be without her. I really admire this aspect of the story, these two less than popular teenagers, fit together, and nothing else matters. Park accepts that Eleanor is different but rather than putting him off, he finds this attracts him to her. Eleanor perpetuates this by telling him off for calling her “nice,” Park thinks: “Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” This is one of my favourite quotes from the book. It sums up Eleanor so well in just a few words. Eleanor is happy in her own skin, and this is an appealing quality that readers will admire.

Park’s home life is stable and happy compared to Eleanor’s. Eleanor feels it’s necessary to hide aspects of her sad, home life from Park. He has no idea that she’s so poor. She doesn’t even have a toothbrush, or a phone. But more than that she has to contend with her unpleasant step dad Richie, and his nasty behaviour on a daily basis. Her mother comes across as this weak individual unable to stand up to Richie, and the children and herself suffer in this abusive relationship. Eleanor pretends not to notice bruises on her mum’s wrists. It is easier to turn a blind eye than to admit what’s really going on.

Though Rainbow Rowell did a great job in creating this sad backdrop of an abusive home life, I do think that the developing love story between Eleanor and Park is more powerful, emotive and effective, than the other aspects of the novel, which could have been developed more. Though this would have altered the tone of the novel making it a more serious read, and Rainbow Rowell works best on a light-hearted level.

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Photos courtesy of free domain photos.

Have you read Eleanor and Park? Do comment I’d love to hear from you.

Bye for now,

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Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx