The last "mainstream" books I read were Fuzz by Mary Roach, a quirky look at criminal behaviour by animals, and Michael Connelly's The Proving Ground. Other than that it's been mostly my own books, reading and re-reading them as part of the publication process, and lately I've been revisiting Bernard Cornwell's Sharpe series, with ten books over the last couple of months.
I thought I was done and dusted with Sharpe years ago, but now I find that Cornwell – a remarkably prolific writer – has been filling in the empty spaces in the extraordinary career of Richard Sharpe, a soldier in the Napoleonic Wars who progresses from private soldier in India to colonel at Waterloo and beyond. Sharpe manages to find himself in some dramatic situations, often at the heart of some pivotal battle, gaining – and inevitably losing – the girl.
Some extraordinary battle scenes and a fair amount of skullduggery and lurking as Sharpe, the orphaned son of a prostitute in London's slums never really masters the social graces but still rubs shoulders with the famous figures of the age.
It's been a new delight, and yet another distraction, as I revisit the old stories where the details have long since slipped my mind, along with a string of fresh tales. I'm up to book eight in my renewed reading, with another sixteen or so to go.