Dolorous Ett's Bestiary

I got a bumper box of CD recordings of Alastair Alexander** McCall Smith's Number One Ladies' Detective Agency this Christmas, and I listen to them while doing washing up, cooking and the like. They are soothing and oddly charming, though there's also something about them that occasionally makes me want to smack McCall Smith very hard around the ear and tell him not to be such a patronising old git because it Isn't That Simple.

I am also rereading Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series in odd moments (notably over lunch, and when I'm too knackered to reach for a Serious Work of Literature, which is all the time right now). The first three books (which really could have used an editor) now behind me, I'm with Rand and Egwene and co in the Aiel Waste (a desert), and having a whale of a time.

The last time I was listening to the No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency CDs I really was very tired indeed, practically asleep on my feet, and the desert scenes involving Mma Ramotswe's tiny white van and pleasant homespun wisdom merged with the deserts of the Aiel Waste, savage blood feuds, a warrior race rent apart by the truth of its origins and lost enchanted cities inhabited by horrors... It was very, very odd. Despite all the sand, these two worlds should never be allowed to collide.

Have you ever started thinking up crossovers, and then backed away in a hurry? 

** I stand corrected, erised1810! Well spotted!

I've been mulling over in my mind whether to go for this month's omniocular "Anywhere But Here" challenge, where we are provided with a variety of fascinating locations for stories. (And yes, this is a plug - if you're  not familiar with this comm, go and have a look - I promise you won't regret it).

It's a tricky one, this. I don't want to write about what I work for a living doing - but I haven't the time to research any of the interesting places I'd like to read or write about, like the North Pole or Easter Island. However, Hadrian's Wall is on the list, and I have been there.

So really it's all omniocular 's fault that I'm now actually semi-seriously considering a Rosemary Sutcliffe/JK Rowling crossover in which Hagrid goes up Hadrian's Wall with a butterfly net and a king-size bag of Owl Treats in an attempt to bag the Eagle of the Ninth...

Please, someone talk me out of this, before I make a complete fool of myself!

I'm never going to drink again.