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There's still time to catch the last screenings of (in Cheltenham at least). It's one of the texts we've been studying on our first year children's lit course.

Solar Innovations is proud to announce the launch of new product for 2020: the new and improved Guide and Door and Window Brochure, as well as our series Timeless Traditions guide for Solar Innovations structures. ⁠

Meet the Team at the Health & Wellbeing Winter Fayre tomorrow on Route 122. The focus will be on spiritual health. Discover how Library and Knowledge Services can help you!

The first of the decade happens tomorrow - If you enjoy reading and chatting about books, make sure to visit us from 6.30pm tomorrow! ☺️📖

From elegant literary to riveting crime fiction, shocking to spellbinding narratives, there is something for everyone in this list of new literary arrivals:

New and trending - A Person Who Hasn't Retained Scars From Life Hasn't Lived Life Fully. This book is based on this quote.

Today is the birthday of "" the Great Persian . He is the author of "", the national epic of . Ferdowsi is celebrated as the most influential figure in Persian .

Nazia Akhtar and Yunus Lasania participate in an engaging panel discussion on "Hyderabad in History & Memory", moderated by Salma Ahmed Farooqui.

“All My Cats” by Bohumil Hrabal is a memoir about the author’s relationship with his many feral cats, their effect on both his work and sanity. Written in 1983, it has now been skillfully translated into English by Paul Wilson: .

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I take too much pleasure in being alone but there is also a strange warm grace in not being alone.
—  Charles Bukowski

My pony Laila

I named her Laila. I haven’t seen a pony quite like her. Her eyes are sparkling blue, and her jaws are perfectly aligned that it looks like she is smiling all the time. She has silky silver hair that sways as she runs around our backyard in a carefree manner. Laila loves hay very much. Our house servants feed her hay thrice a day like clockwork. I also let her graze the grass in our garden. Every evening I take her for a ride in the race track behind our house. She is my best friend. 

I used to have a human best friend. Sheila was my best friend since elementary school. We were partners in crime. We grew up together, attending the same classes and playing together after school. We were inseparable. Ever since my father got super rich for representing one of the wealthy companies, she stopped hanging out with me. She probably thought I wouldn’t be the same anymore. But I haven’t done anything for her to entertain such a possibility. Nevertheless, I didn’t stop reaching out to her. I tried to walk alongside her in the school hallway on the way to our classes like we usually did. But she sprinted and disappeared on me. I tried sitting next to her in our class. But she made sure that I never found an empty seat around her. I kept calling her home every evening after school. No one picked the call. Even if someone did, they never let me speak to her. She completely iced me out.

I was sad and lonely for a very long time wondering what went wrong. I kept blaming myself for her leaving me. It got so gloomy that I refused to step outside my room, let alone attending school. That’s when my dad promised me to get anything I wanted in an attempt to cheer me up. I asked for a pony and voila! I got Laila. Who needs Sheila anymore when I have got Laila? 

dead soul

here’s a piece of my love story:

i love the way the sun kissed his skin

the way his lashes would sweep over his cheeks

the way his smile makes me thaw

the crooked dimple on the left of his cheek

i love him for his flaws

the way he cries himself to sleep

the shape of the brutal scar on his arm

the way he sometimes bite his lips until it bleed

there were days when he would smile at me

we would sit underneath that oak tree

my finger making idle circles in the sky

pointing out airplanes or the shape of the cloud

he would tell me stories

until the last traces of the sun

disappeared from the sky

there were mornings

when he would tell me i’m his biggest miracle


there were evenings

when he would tell me he hates my guts

that he blamed the universe for the way things are

nights with bottles of liquor

cigarettes and unshed tears

there are things i wish i could make up to him

that he’s loved

that he’s worthy

but instead

he looks elsewhere

blowing out the smoke of his cigarette

and sighed:

“can you love a dead soul?

someone with demons in his mind

and a void in his heart?”

Laken in The Wandering Inn is a character that I would consider a positive example of what I’ve been looking for when I say I want a “positively selfish” character. It’s much like all of the fanfiction slytherins, in that they operate on an additional level beyond “this is mine”, namely, “this is mine and I will protect it.”

I can’t remember the Terry Pratchett quote that brings this concept to mind, but it makes me happy to see a bit more of it in media.


On this day in history, January 21, 1789 – The first American novel, The Power of Sympathy or the Triumph of Nature Founded in Truth by William Hill Brown, is printed in Boston.

From our stacks: Frontispiece and title page from The Power of Sympathy. William Hill Brown. Reproduced from the First Edition. With a Bibliographical Note By Milton Ellis. Volume I. Published for the Facsimile Text Society By Columbia University Press. New York: 1937.