charles barrow's writing

Cover That Sold Me The Book #42 So we've all been guilty of judging a book by its cover, both metaphorically and literally, haven't we? I try not to do the first, but hey I'm human. However I am definitely guilty of the second. I can pore over that table of books in Waterstones, the one with the new releases, laid flat on their backs, artfully designed covers glowing under bright lights, and lift dozens of them up for a closer inspection if the cover art appeals. I always spend less time browsing the A-Z shelves where I'm faced with rows and rows of spines, though I will head there if I'm after a specific title. It's the cover that will always attract me. Does that make me shallow, that I love all the pretty, shiny things? Anyway, the marketing works on me, so I guess I'm both shallow and susceptible.  Of course, pretty and shiny doesn't always guarantee a thumping good read. As with the metaphor, the contents don't always bear any relation to the pa...

Lockdown continues to ease, but not all my anxieties ease along with it. Few aspects of life seem like normal life yet. I wear a mask on the bus, and on the train. I wear a mask in the supermarket. Outside the Apple store an employee wants to take my temperature before I'm allowed to enter. I ask her what will happen if I test positive for a high temperature; will I just be turned away? Will she offer me follow up advice? Counselling? She seems confused by my questions, and doesn't attempt to answer them. I feel bad that I asked her, though I think my questions are legitimate. I feel bad for her that she's out here alone on the frontline, facing people like me who ask awkward questions. I'm not happy but I allow her to take my temperature, and I pass the test, so she asks me to join a queue to get through the front door of the store. I'm vaguely relieved to learn that I'm not being turned away, and that I have no discernible sign of illness, but I don't want...