AMK's Journal

Kafka, thou shouldst be living at this hour? Non-smoker fined £433 for dropping cigarette butt in Manchester: Steve Jones was hundreds of miles away in Maidstone arranging family funeral at time of alleged offence:

He told the council it was a case of mistaken identity and he had not dropped any litter, but the prosecution went ahead regardless in his absence, and he received a collection order in the post for £433, which included a fine and costs. In July, he was sent a pack of evidence by Manchester city council, including a letter that said: “You have been charged with an offence of dropping litter”, and that a single justice procedure notice had been issued by the local authority in March.
....
Jones contacted the council to explain their error, and his email correspondence with council officers “went back and forth and back and forth for ages”, he said, “and then they had to go and find the guy’s camera evidence and that took a few days, and then eventually they realised that it wasn’t me”.... Jones said he initially struggled to get the council to provide a written apology, but had thought the matter was closed after he received an email apologising for the “administrative error”. However, Jones then received a further letter in the post, dated 28 August, saying he had been convicted and fined. “I just find it incredible that I’ve been convicted in my absence,” he said. ‘“I mean, that sounds really serious.”

Noted rather far down in this piece on new owners forcing a traditionally nudist resort to 'go textile' (infaaaamy) there is a mention of a homicide on the property.

Which evoked in me the question, has there ever been a murder mystery set in a nudist resort? I have read ones involving all sorts of weird cults, and the occasional health spa, but I don't think actual naturism has featured.

Which led to the further question, which fictional shamus would you pick to strip off and boldly go to investigate in such a circumstance?

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Talking of textiles, this is rather lovely: A secret garden’: National Theatre turns roof into riot of colour with dye plants. Textile artists are reshaping how the theatre makes its costumes with the aim of replacing harsh synthetic dyes

I'm slightly raising my eyebrows at the whole 'luvverly nachral dyes' thing though (as opposed to those narsty post-aniline synthetics that cause 'dyer's nose') is that I've read at least one murder mystery in which dying featured, though I think it might have been the mordants employed to set the colours rather than the actual dyes themselves which were dangerous.

When her son died in utero, a venture capitalist went to extremes to punish her surrogate.

Sometimes one gets the impression that some people don't understand that pregnancy isn't a straightforward and simple process and that if it goes wrong it's not actually a matter of blame:

Although America is the world leader in surrogacy, it’s also the developed nation with the highest maternal mortality rate and one of the highest stillbirth rates, a situation described by many as “a public health crisis.” Compared to natural conception, carrying a genetically unrelated fetus more than triples the risk of severe, potentially deadly conditions, a statistic surrogates are rarely given. IPs do not always have to disclose complete medical information, including histories of certain conditions that may harm their GCs. They don’t have to be honest about how many kids they have, why they are hiring a surrogate, or how many other surrogates they have simultaneously pregnant.

The whole thing sounds like an entire nightmare (the surrogate was expected to cover pregnancy care via her own health insurance WTF?).

And do we think the intending mother fit to be a parent?

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On people Being The Main Character: she's become a one-woman clean-up crew, sharing her efforts on social media and calling out the Canal and River Trust for what she sees as its failure to properly maintain the area:

In response, the Canal and River Trust said: "Elena might feel alone in tackling London's litter waste, however she is one of hundreds of volunteers who help our charity keep London's canals alive, picking up other people's rubbish and carrying out routine maintenance.
"We're delighted when more people take an interest in looking after their local canal."
However, the trust said it was "more effective" to collect bagged waste "when it's part of the regular organised volunteer events that our charity runs".
"These activities are scheduled alongside weekly clean-ups by our operatives and contractors, which ensures collected waste is removed and recycled or disposed of appropriately," a spokesperson said.
The trust also urged visitors to London's canals to take their litter home with them.

What I read

Finished A Darker Domain, which I thought was a bit so-so but maybe the series kicks it up a bit as it goes on?

Elizabeth Bear, Angel Maker (Karen Memory #3) (2025), which apparently is not supposed to be out until this week but Kobo UK let me purchase last week - a lot going on there (steampunk Western, for those who aren't acquainted with previous volumes) including making of silent movie with possibly sinister other motives and a lot of other stuff going on.

Latest Slightly Foxed.

Val McDermid, The Distant Echo (Karen Pirie, #1). Okay, I was pretty much spoiled for this because A Darker Domain mentions whodunnit, but still, not at all bad, even though it's a bit of a push to tag it with Karen Pirie, who is a very minor character who appears very late along in the narrative though does provide a key bit of evidence. (I am also a bit sad that McDermid has become this really quite mainstream crime writer after those early Women's Press years.)

On the go

Angela Thirkell, Love at All Ages (The Barsetshire Novels Book 28) (1959) - good grief, Ange, you really were phoning in this one, weren't you? (I bought it on promotion.) Padding, repetition, breaking the 4th wall, inconsistency - there is one character - the American-born Duchess of Towers - who at one point is Southern womanhood/invocation of Confederacy and at another has strong New England character, and we wonder about Thirkell's geography of the USA.... plus there is a couple who seem to be having Schrodinger's honeymoon, they are offered somebody's Riviera villa, but later mention that they will be doing a tour of cathedrals, and then they go off to Brighton hotel. Also she is really working her grudge against Ann Bridge as the novelist Mrs Rivers. It has its moments but one does feel her publishers just threw up their hands and said fuckit, if we do a full copy edit it won't be out in time for next Christmas let alone this year's.

Up next

Not sure, though there is a new Literary Review.