…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….

- There are ver...27th Oct 2013
- I know this m...26th Oct 2013
- My career as ...25th Oct 2013
- Finally finis...24th Oct 2013
- Who'd have th...23rd Oct 2013
- You may not h...22nd Oct 2013
- Feck....shoot...21st Oct 2013
- Everyone has ...20th Oct 2013
- Ladies and ge...19th Oct 2013
- My mate Brian...18th Oct 2013
- I was told it...17th Oct 2013
- All hail Mr. ...16th Oct 2013
- Should there ...15th Oct 2013
- In praise of ...14th Oct 2013
- Why are rock ...13th Oct 2013 prev next