In which we have growing pains.
Finally got around to rereading About a Boy this weekend. I’ve been planning to ever since the film came out, I didn’t want to see the film before I’d reread the book. So now I can see it, though it’s no longer on at the cinema, obviously, which is a pity, but I guess it’s probably not the sort of film that needs the big screen, so I guess renting the dvd will be ok.
Anyway. It’s a lovely book. No surprises, there, really – well, I already knew I liked it, obviously, having read it before – since I have yet to come across any book of Nick Hornby’s that I don’t like. I suppose I could give you a rundown of the plot, but I don’t think I can be bothered. And I don’t really have anything intelligent to say about it other than that it is lovely and you really should read it if you haven’t. Not doing a very good job of this book review thingamagig, am I? Pathetic, really.