…is the title of Bill Bryson’s new book. It’ll be wonderful. His books always are, imbued with charm, humour and wisdom. And yet he remains underrated as a writer. Maybe because his books are non-fiction and usually travel books with a broad, almost populist appeal he seldom receives the literary plaudits he deserves. If that old maxim “Easy reading, hard writing” applies to anyone, it applies to Bryson. His simple, stylish prose with its near perfect grammar and syntax is, I suspect, the result of a great deal of hard graft. He’s currently giving interviews, promoting the new book, and I’m dismayed to discover that the way he speaks is nothing like the way he writes. He has a weak, whiney voice and poor, lispy diction. I’d always imagined him to sound deep, sassy and mischievous. A bit like Lee Hazlewood.
The Road to Little Dribbling….

- The North-Sou...7th Dec 2016
- Very silly ga...4th Dec 2016
- John Peel, To...1st Dec 2016
- "Half of bitt...30th Nov 2016
- Date night.28th Nov 2016
- My favourite ...27th Nov 2016
- RIH Fidel Cas...26th Nov 2016
- Thanksgiving.24th Nov 2016
- The trouble w...18th Nov 2016
- "I'll swing f...17th Nov 2016
- My son had no...16th Nov 2016
- But the theme...14th Nov 2016
- The death of ...13th Nov 2016
- President Tru...9th Nov 2016
- Trump effigie...5th Nov 2016 prev next