‘Do you have any cheerful books?’ a friend of mine once asked after casting an eye along my bookshelf at such uplifting gems as Nietzsche’s ‘The Birth of Tragedy’ and that life-affirming romp of a play, King Lear. ‘’Tis the life of an English student,’ I simply replied at the time, ‘it comes with the territory’. As the end of term approaches, however, with its essay crises, its existential crises, its waking up crises, I realise that what I need is a nice bit of weekend escapism that does not involve death, betrayal, loss or any other gloomy theme, for that matter. 

Hello, happinessJohn Swarbrooke

To Heffers! Upon arrival I quickly head towards the display of novelty books, skirting past what seems to be an A-Z of depressing books. Not tempted by The Whore’s Asylum or a novel about a series of gruesome murders, The Pleasures of Men, which features an image of a woman with a blood-stained knife on the cover, I go instead for a guide to the eccentricity of Cambridge. This sits reassuringly by the side of a book about ponds and another book entitled The Language of Flowers.

Eccentric bedtime reading. Eccentric sheets, too. John Swarbrooke

From Charlie Cavey, bin busker extraordinaire who often serenades passers-by with Tom Jones hits, to Richard Collins, a nudist cyclist, Eccentric Cambridge: A Practical Guide has it all. ‘This intellectually sizzling city has always attracted one-offs’ the author, Ben le Vay, tells us. Why yes, yes it has. Another chapter details the adventures of William Horace de Vere Cole, aristocrat and world-famous prankster. Disguising himself as the Sultan of Zanzibar and successfully arranging an official visit to his own college, Trinity, in 1905, de Vere Cole also arranged for 8 bald men to sit on the front row at a play he didn’t like on the West End with one letter painted on top of each of their heads. Together, their heads spelt out ‘bollocks’. What a lark. 

With procrastinatory levels at an all-time high on Monday, I stop by WHSmith. I can’t resist buying a copy of Reveal after a story at the top left captures my attention: ‘I Dumped My Groom For My Bridesmaid’. Now there must be a story behind that, I think to myself, andsome dramatic fights I’m sure! Reading the article proves surprisingly underwhelming though, and I realise that these people are, surprisingly, actual people with feelings. ‘I knew in the end I had to be true to myself’, the ex-wife says. Quite a touching story, really. Something I never expected to find in Reveal. 

On the way out with gossip mag hidden away between library books in my UL bag I enjoy the pun-rific cover of The Cambridge News. You flip those pancakes, Dr Huppert! 

Oh no she DIDN'T! Yes, John, yes she did.John Swarbrooke

By Friday I've had an epiphany. While thumbing through 'Writer's Forum' (apostrophe cautiously observed), a magazine aimed at new authors, I stumble across an article about breaking into the market of writing Western romances. Inspired by titles such as Marrying the Preacher's Daughter and Sunlit Secrets, I read on, and it soon becomes clear that this may well be my calling in life. Sally Quilford, famous Western romance writer, makes it all seem so easy. 'Do remember that you are writing a romance, so try to keep gritty realism to a minimum', she advises, suggesting that not all Western romances need include 'cattle drives or big shootouts'. I'm already thinking of a title for my Cambridge version of the Western romance. The Free-Ranger of the Fens, perhaps? Watch this space. 

Punnage galoreJohn Swarbrroke

Riding away into the sunset as Week Seven approaches, I come across a beautiful poem in my supervision work. ‘A Blessing in Disguise’, a poem by John Ashbery about the way in which lovers become entangled and seemingly inseparable in heart and mind, is a post-Valentine’s-month treat.

Western Romances: a bluffer's guideJohn Swarbrooke

'And I sing amid despair and isolation/Of the chance to know you, to sing of me/Which are you'. 

Practical Criticism aka scribbling on poemsJohn Swarbrooke