How many new books are published every year as hardbacks, paperbacks and audio books? Add those you read on electronic devices and they must run into several thousand.
Pop into a book shop and (apart from the heavily promoted works of television personalities like the prolific Richard Osman*) the vast array of books on display can be daunting to many.
Less so if you’re an avid reader who knows Edna O’Brien from Maggie O’Farrell and Iain Banks from Ian Rankin.
*Everybody who’s presented a TV show in the last decade has a best-selling thriller to their name. Whether they actually wrote it, is another matter . . .
With so many books published every year, I find it weirdly frustrating that so few are adapted for the cinema. Film studios seemingly prefer to re-make/re-imagine old films.
The latest to be re-made/re-imagined is “Westworld”, the 1973 science-fiction adventure set in a luxury resort where wealthy tourists ‘visit’ past eras (like Medieval World) and interact with human-looking robots in appropriate costumes.
The main action takes place in ‘The Old West’ where tourists can challenge a taciturn, scary gunslinger to a gunfight and win every time! The gunslinging robot who eventually runs amok and shoots a customer (a possible scenario the resort’s guide book fails to mention) is played by Yul Brynner wearing an all-black outfit similar to the one he wore in “The Magnificent Seven” 13 years earlier.
I realise movie special FX have moved on since 1973, but why remake what’s already been re-made in different forms?
In the 1976 sequel, “Future World”, Yul’s gunslinger returned in a dream sequence.
1980 saw a short-lived TV series “Beyond Westworld” and in 2016 the first episode of the big budget TV series “Westworld”, starring Sir Anthony Hopkins premiered, followed by a further 35 episodes across four series.
The writer/director of the original “Westworld” was Michael Crichton who developed the ‘Things running amok in a theme park’ idea into the novel “Jurassic Park”. The 1993 film adaptation has had a number of sequels and another one is due in 2028.
Cash cows need regular milking!

There are two types of people in the world. Those who read reviews before buying something, and those who apparently enjoy living dangerously.
For the rest of us, reviews have become the modern-day oracle. Before booking a restaurant, buying a toaster or choosing a dog groomer, we scroll through the opinions of complete strangers as if they were delivering the wisdom of the ages.
But here’s a thought: what if we became the reviewers?
Local businesses are working incredibly hard right now, often with tight margins, long hours and enough paperwork to make a filing cabinet nervous. A little recognition can mean far more than people realise.
Had a brilliant meal? Say so.
Received friendly service? Tell the world.
Found a local business that went the extra mile? Give them a virtual high-five, preferably without actually frightening the staff.
A positive review on Google, TripAdvisor or social media takes only a minute or two, but those few words can help a small business attract new customers, boost confidence and remind exhausted owners that somebody noticed the effort.
We’re all pretty good at complaining. Burnt toast? Outrage. Queue five minutes too long? National emergency. Someone parks slightly wonky? Call Parliament.
Perhaps it’s time to balance things out.
This week, why not leave a glowing review for a local business you genuinely enjoyed? Your words might brighten someone’s day, encourage a hardworking team and help keep a much-loved business busy.
Because behind every small business is a big human effort.
And sometimes, the most powerful way to support your community doesn’t cost a penny.
Just a few kind words, and perhaps five stars!

When L.P. Hartley* wrote ‘The Go-Between’ in 1953 he included a line that’s now as famous as the novel and the 1971 film.
He wrote “The past is another country. They do things differently there”.
Well, my friends, what he described as another country in 1953, has expanded into more of a lost continent in the ensuing 73 years.
Post-war baby boomers who’ve grown up through all the technical and medical breakthroughs and social changes, were introduced to them gradually as they happened.
But I often wonder how someone who was, shall we say, in later maturity in the early 1950s, would react to how (and where) we live, eat, socialise and communicate in 2026.
To quote a phrase first coined in the 1960s, I think it might ‘blow their mind’.
I’m not going to get on my high horse about the ‘Decline of civilization since the invention of the air fryer’ or ‘The effects of global warming on Alan Titchmarsh’s hardy perennials’ in the last couple of decades, because that’s not my style.
And, frankly, it would take far too much of my time to research. I love all my readers, but a line has to be drawn somewhere!
Instead, I’ll illustrate how times have changed by recalling some things people once said in (fairly) recent history that you never hear today.
Like . . .
“Bradley who?”
“Will you take a cheque?”
“Arrange a mortgage for you? That won’t be a problem”
“I’m off out to post my football pools coupon!”
“I do wish there were more quizzes on daytime TV!”
“I must get a pair of legwarmers like yours!”
“Sorry, love. I couldn’t let you know I was running late. The phone box on the corner was out of order!”
“I don’t know which bank to open an account with. There’s so many in town!”
And…
“My favourite ITV show and my favourite BBC show are both on at the same time tonight. I don’t know which one to watch!”
*Not to be confused with J.P. Hartley, author of “Fly Fishing” according to a TV ad for Yellow Pages.
Remember them!

A recent visit to Devil’s Bridge reminded me that some of Wales’s most beautiful attractions come with a small catch: they expect you to earn the view.
Tucked into the wooded landscape near Aberystwyth, Devil’s Bridge is a place combining folklore, spectacular scenery and enough steps to make you question your life choices.
I arrived ready for a gentle stroll. The staircase had other ideas. It did occur to me that the gorge would also make an ideal spot for scattering the mother-in-law’s ashes, especially if she was the sort who always wanted the last word. At least the wind would finally get a chance to answer back.
The circular waterfalls walk begins near the famous Three Bridges, dramatically stacked above the rushing River Rheidol.
It is also where you can hear the legend behind the Devil’s Bridge itself.
From there, the trail winds down into the gorge, with trees, rocky outcrops and glimpses of the river providing excuses to stop and admire the view, or catch your breath.
Further into the walk comes Mynach Waterfalls, where the water tumbles through the gorge in dramatic fashion. Then there is Jacob’s Ladder: around 100 steps of continuous staircase, which feels considerably longer when your legs have already begun negotiating for better working conditions.
The route has 675 steps in total, so sensible footwear and water are not optional extras.
Near the bottom, Robber’s Cave and the waterfalls offer rewards, although the return journey means climbing back up again. Every downward step is a promise you will eventually have to repay.
Back at the top, the viewing area offers a chance to admire the Three Bridges and surrounding Cambrian Mountains without moving a muscle. There is also the shorter Punchbowl walk for anyone who prefers scenery without quite so much stair-related drama.
My recent visit left me tired, slightly wobbly and very happy. Devil’s Bridge may test your legs, but the waterfalls, woodland and unforgettable views make the effort worthwhile. Just remember: nature provides the scenery; Jacob provides the stairs.

THERE are words and expressions in general use today that are actually euphemisms for their true meaning.
Take politicians, for example. Once upon a time they resigned. Now they ‘step down’.
They explain what they intend doing about important issues ‘going forward’ rather than ‘in the future’ . . . usually after admitting ‘lessons must be learned’.
And they now admit ‘I mis-spoke’ instead of ‘I told a huge whopper.”
I was reminded of this ‘free and easy’ use of words when reading a newspaper headline that would have you believe something so important had happened that huge numbers of readers had been waiting to hear (with bated breath) before they could carry on with their lives.
It’s probably advisable that I don’t mention the real name of the person in the headline, so let’s call him Abernethy Farquhar.
In fact, as I had never heard of the chap, he might as well have been lumbered with that moniker.*
The headline proclaimed “Abernethy Farquhar has returned to social media after a break of two months!”
Phew! You could hear the sighs of relief all around the country!
I read the article (so you don’t have to) and it turns out that our friend Abernethy had temporarily withdrawn from twitting or tweeting his every single thought, idea and opinion, just after he’d broken up with his partner.
For those tear-stained eight weeks, we must assume he hid himself away from the world, brooding, watching daytime TV with the blinds down, while eating cereal straight out of the box.
Now, having somehow got over his heartache, rejuvenated by a combination of cornflakes and bran, he’d re-discovered his mojo. He could resume telling the world what he’d had for tea and what colour socks he’d wear tomorrow. Order was restored!
As Cilla might have said, “Worra lorra tosh!”
Look, I use social media, but frankly, if I backed away from it for a while, who cares? And I certainly lack the self-importance needed to make a grand announcement that I’d ‘returned to social media’.
The older I get, the less I understand people!
*Younger readers, ask your grandparents.

Opinions are a wonderful thing. Everyone has one, which is democracy at its finest, although occasionally it feels as if the nation has been handed a microphone and told, “Off you go, Dave.”
In Britain, we’re rather fond of free speech. We’ll defend your right to say what you like, then quietly judge you for saying it over a cup of tea.
The trouble is, social media has turned us all into broadcasters.
Once upon a time, if you had a daft opinion, you had to find someone willing to listen. Now you can post it online at 2am and within minutes it’s being shared by 14,000 strangers, three Bots and your auntie Brenda.
I’m all for healthy debate. But somewhere along the way, discussion became ALL CAPS shouting, angry emojis and people threatening to leave the country because someone put milk in the tea before the water.
And our politicians aren’t exactly setting the example.
Imagine if they occasionally listened to each other, admitted they might be wrong and had a laugh. Frankly, the country would be so shocked we’d probably need to lie down.
As a comedian, I’m often asked what happens to jokes that aren’t funny.
They become politicians.
I couldn’t resist.
But beneath the jokes is a serious point.
Opinions are useful. Uninformed certainty is not.
Education, curiosity and the ability to say, “Actually, I hadn’t thought of that,” might do more for public debate than another 47 angry Facebook posts.
There are always two sides to an argument. Although, judging by some online comments, there are people still determined to argue from the edge of the flat Earth.
So before hitting “send”, perhaps pause for a moment.
Ask yourself: Am I adding something to the conversation, or just making the internet louder?
And if the answer is “louder”, put the phone down.
Go and make a cup of tea.
It’s what Britain does best.