Why I’m Grateful For the Return of Veronica Mars

After a very, very long hiatus, last week was supposed to be my (triumphant) return to blogging. Instead, I decided to curl up around a bottle of Bailey’s* and weep. It was partly my own fault. My recreational reading for the week was a John Connolly thriller. Connolly is poetry at the line level and scary as hell at the story level, and definitely not recommended for young readers or the faint of heart. Normally I love his books, but last week I was also reading a true crime book about behavioural profiling of serial rapists as research for the […]

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