I may not have written much in the last couple of months, but words have still been the centre of my life.  They were not running off my fingertips through the computer but they were certainly filling my heart, soul, and mind.  In the absence of writing I have been doing a lot of reading.

It’s as though words in some way, shape, or form have to be in my life.  I love seeing them printed or written across the page.  It fascinates me to think about what the words hold.  It could be information about an object, a machine say, or it could be the description of a place. 

Words have the power to fire our imagination.  They can transport us to some magical landscape where we can "escape” for a few hours as we read. They can describe a character so that we think we can see them, smell them, hear them as they speak.  The author Morris West (In The Shoes Of The Fisherman) has an incredible gift for this last talent, and this was what drew me to read all of his books.

In the latter part of 2009 I was introduced to the author Robert B. Parker. His style of writing attracted me immediately.  He wrote a couple of series of books with different central characters; the Spenser novels, the Jesse Stone novels, and the Sunny Randall novels.  They are all of the detective genre.

He used a short sharp yet easy flowing style of writing, especially when it came to conversations between people.  Some of his sentences are just two words long!  Yet everything is perfect in the moment.  And he uses a form of dry, wry wit that appeals to my English sense of humour.

Over a period of about three months I think I read everything he wrote.  Back in January 2010 I was devouring his last three or four books from the library shelf when I heard the news of his death.  I remember my immediate thought was “Oh no, what will I read now!” as if he were the only writer producing books.

But he had very quickly become “my Robert B. Parker (RBP)”.  He had entered my heart and my soul through his generously-shared talent.  I thought of him as a friend who set out to entertain me with each of his books.  The only positive thing that I can say about his passing is that he died at his typewriter doing what he loved most.

So having completed all his books I then had to find someone else.  I love detective/spy books so I stayed in that genre.  Checking along the shelves in the library I remember thinking, “I need to find a prolific author; someone who has as many books on the shelf as “my RBP”.  And so Sue Grafton found her way into my book bag.

Her A,B,C books based on the character Kinsey Millhone are great.  Her style is different yet just as interesting as RBP.  Kinsey is a little off-beat, a little off-centre, and as a woman detective is just finding her way around the profession.  I guess what attracts me to her is that there is a part of her that is organized and yet there is another great chunk of her that is delightfully, quirkily “fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants”. 

Her well-preserved and still very attractive octogenarian neighbour Henry and his other “just as old if not older” siblings add some unique interest to the story.  But the spice is added, literally, by Rosie, of Hungarian origins, who runs a small restaurant/grill/bar down the road from Kinsey’s home.  I can almost hear her speaking in her broken accent and can imagine the expressions on her face and in her voice the way Sue Grafton describes her.

So here I am having read the latest, U Is For Umbrella, and wondering who will be the next author that my eyes fall upon, that my nose smells out.  One thing is for sure, I will not be without words in some way or another.  They feed my soul and my mind.  I will not go hungry!