The Art of Falling

I wouldn't normally have read The Art of Falling, seems a dreary book like the captain's mandolin thing that became the world's most boring film. BUT my girlfriend kept on about it. So, after she cooked me a particularly lovely Saturday lunch the other week, just to humour her, I planned to postpone the football for an few mins then I could say I'd at least made the effort. Well, the Art of Falling started with a bit of well-written arriving in Italy stuff - OK so far - and I thought I'd just give it a couple more pages...until I had to keep reading to find out what happened as Isabel searched for her father. I found myself thinking "OK, yeah, what would I do with that bit of info?... He/she seemed a helpful old guy/girl but maybe covering for something ..." Just to humour my girl, I read half the book. I don't have much time for reading since the office knackers me during the week - so the following Saturday it turned out I missed the football again. Then, guess what, she wanted to talk about it afterwards. Anton Hicks