Lamarie's Shrine to Tallulah Casey!

A while ago I noticed distinct differences in different versions of the text, and went on a deep dive to find various editions of the book on some perhaps less-than-legal sites. After doing so, and finding a few passages missing in certain versions, I then noticed that the blurb on Witherhing Tights bares only the barest resemblence to the version that made it to the final book. In my defense, I rarely looked at the back cover.

Blurb from the first hardcover edition of Withering Tights, published in 2010	I was in the barn showing Ruby my comedy version of Irish dancing. Suddenly, mid-leap, the best-looking boy I have ever seen came in. He smiled at me and said, “Er... hello, I'm Alex, Ruby's brother.” Ruby tutted and said, “She's called Tallulah and goes to that Dother Hall. Tha’ knows, the bonkers school.” I said, “Hahhaha. Hiddly diddly diddly diddle…” And started dancing again. Alex had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides. A head. He said, “That’s a cool name.” He said nothing against my knees. Granted, he couldn't see my knees, but he probably got the picture. Today I have had more boy action than I have had in 14½ years of life. I LOVE Yorkshire. I do.
Passage from chapter 7 of the Withering Tights eBook, 1st edition, published 2010	Ruby sat on a hay bale and I got up on another one. I started singing, “Well, hiddly diddly diddly dee. We’re all off to Dublin in the green, in the green, hiddly diddly diddle dee…” And went into my dance. Arms by the side and leaping, leaping, leap. High kick, high kick, twirly ankle, twirly ankle. Ruby was laughing like a drain when I heard the barn door creak open and a deep voice said, “Ruby, are you in here?” Cain! I tried to get behind the hay bale and promptly fell over it. Nearly smashing the owl eggs as well. As I was lying in the hay, the best-looking boy I have ever seen loomed over me. He was tall and long-limbed with a cool Fred Perry shirt on. I could see he had longish, thick hair and a lovely broad mouth. He smiled at me and held out a hand to pull me up. “Hello, I’m Alex, Ruby’s brother.” I said, “Hello, I’m…um…” And I’d forgotten my own name. Ruby seemed unfazed by this. She said, “She’s called Tallulah and she goes to that bonkers school.” Alex laughed. “Rubes thinks that anyone who prats around on stage is mad.” I said, “Heehee, your dad said me and my friends were breeding.” Were you supposed to say ‘breeding’ in front of best-looking boys? To cover it up I said, “I nearly smashed up the owl eggs, but I didn’t and I’m glad because we…we’re all like eggs…in a way.” Ruby said, “Dunt start that bloody egg business agin.” It turns out that Alex is going to go to performing arts college in Liverpool! As we walked back from the barn I said, “Wow…um…oh, wow. Liverpool. That’s, well, that’s not…here, is it?” He laughed again. “Nope.” He was sooooo lovely. And, well, gorgeous. He had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides. Everything. A head. And all in a boy shape. When we got to the Dobbins’ gate, I said, “Buenos Noches!” and giggled like a nitwit. Ruby looked at me and rolled her eyes and then said, “I’m off.” As Ruby ran on home, Alex said, “Well, nice to meet you. Yeah, actually I’m coming up to the college some time soon, doing some work with Monty.” I said, “Monty?” “Monty de Courcy.” I said, “Oh, that Monty…hmm.” I nodded. He said, “Nice to meet you, Tallulah. That must be one of the coolest names. Bye.” In my squirrel room. I have met a dream boy, in boy form. He said I had a cool name. He said nothing against my knees. He couldn’t actually see my knees, but… I realise that in one day I’ve had more boy fun than I have had in fourteen and a half years. Today has made the bottom-touching kitbag incident fade into insignificance. I LOVE Yorkshire. I do. I really do.

Blurb from the first hardcover edition of Withering Tights, published in 2010

I was in the barn showing Ruby my comedy version of Irish dancing. Suddenly, mid-leap, the best-looking boy I have ever seen came in.

He smiled at me and said, “Er... hello, I'm Alex, Ruby's brother.”

Ruby tutted and said, “She's called Tallulah and goes to that Dother Hall. Tha’ knows, the bonkers school.”

I said, “Hahhaha. Hiddly diddly diddly diddle…”

And started dancing again.

Alex had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides. A head.

He said, “That’s a cool name.”

He said nothing against my knees.

Granted, he couldn't see my knees, but he probably got the picture. Today I have had more boy action than I have had in 14½ years of life.

I LOVE Yorkshire. I do.

Passage from chapter 7 of the Withering Tights eBook, 1st edition, published 2010

Ruby sat on a hay bale and I got up on another one.

I started singing, “Well, hiddly diddly diddly dee. We’re all off to Dublin in the green, in the green, hiddly diddly diddle dee…” And went into my dance. Arms by the side and leaping, leaping, leap. High kick, high kick, twirly ankle, twirly ankle.

Ruby was laughing like a drain when I heard the barn door creak open and a deep voice said, “Ruby, are you in here?”

Cain!

I tried to get behind the hay bale and promptly fell over it. Nearly smashing the owl eggs as well. As I was lying in the hay, the best-looking boy I have ever seen loomed over me. He was tall and long-limbed with a cool Fred Perry shirt on. I could see he had longish, thick hair and a lovely broad mouth. He smiled at me and held out a hand to pull me up.

“Hello, I’m Alex, Ruby’s brother.”

I said, “Hello, I’m…um…”

And I’d forgotten my own name.

Ruby seemed unfazed by this. She said, “She’s called Tallulah and she goes to that bonkers school.”

Alex laughed. “Rubes thinks that anyone who prats around on stage is mad.”

I said, “Heehee, your dad said me and my friends were breeding.”

Were you supposed to say ‘breeding’ in front of best-looking boys?

To cover it up I said, “I nearly smashed up the owl eggs, but I didn’t and I’m glad because we…we’re all like eggs…in a way.”

Ruby said, “Dunt start that bloody egg business agin.”

It turns out that Alex is going to go to performing arts college in Liverpool! As we walked back from the barn I said, “Wow…um…oh, wow. Liverpool. That’s, well, that’s not…here, is it?”

He laughed again. “Nope.”

He was sooooo lovely. And, well, gorgeous. He had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides. Everything. A head. And all in a boy shape.

When we got to the Dobbins’ gate, I said, “Buenos Noches!” and giggled like a nitwit.

Ruby looked at me and rolled her eyes and then said, “I’m off.”

As Ruby ran on home, Alex said, “Well, nice to meet you. Yeah, actually I’m coming up to the college some time soon, doing some work with Monty.”

I said, “Monty?”

“Monty de Courcy.”

I said, “Oh, that Monty…hmm.”

I nodded.

He said, “Nice to meet you, Tallulah. That must be one of the coolest names. Bye.”

In my squirrel room.

I have met a dream boy, in boy form. He said I had a cool name.

He said nothing against my knees.

He couldn’t actually see my knees, but…

I realise that in one day I’ve had more boy fun than I have had in fourteen and a half years. Today has made the bottom-touching kitbag incident fade into insignificance.

I LOVE Yorkshire. I do. I really do.

There was also a preview of Withering Tights in the paperback edition of Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? - though to try and compare it to the published version of the book would result in me pasting most of the chapter. And so, you just get the page and a half I copied from Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?.

Taken from the first paperback edition of Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?, published in 2009.	Talullah here, all nice and snuggled up in my bed. At 8.30. I have to say, on the whole, so far this is not the showbiz experience I was expecting. In my brochure about Dother Hall Performing Arts College, it did say it was in the ‘rolling Yorkshire dales’ but it didn’t say it was set in Dickens’ times. With loads of beards. But no street lights. Or streets. Still when the girls get here things will perk up. And also what I have to remember is that first of all… it is all about my art. I said art. And secondly of all it is a ‘mixed’ course. ‘And we all know what that means. It means it is mixed gender wise. In other words there are boys on it. Unless ‘mixed’ means something too weird to contemplate. Speaking of weird, let me describe my bedroom. I’ve got a wooden bed with a carved headboard. It's got furry things carved on it. Squirrels probably. Or hairy snails. I have got the official squirrel room. The real tragedy of this is that I am in a squirrel room somewhere towards Iceland and I am an orphan. Deserted by my parents. It's a tragedy.

Taken from the first paperback edition of Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?, published in 2009.

Talullah here, all nice and snuggled up in my bed.

At 8.30.

I have to say, on the whole, so far this is not the showbiz experience I was expecting. In my brochure about Dother Hall Performing Arts College, it did say it was in the ‘rolling Yorkshire dales’ but it didn’t say it was set in Dickens’ times.

With loads of beards.

But no street lights.

Or streets.

Still when the girls get here things will perk up.

And also what I have to remember is that first of all… it is all about my art.

I said art.

And secondly of all it is a ‘mixed’ course.

‘And we all know what that means.

It means it is mixed gender wise.

In other words there are boys on it.

Unless ‘mixed’ means something too weird to contemplate.

Speaking of weird, let me describe my bedroom.

I’ve got a wooden bed with a carved headboard.

It's got furry things carved on it.

Squirrels probably.

Or hairy snails.

I have got the official squirrel room.

The real tragedy of this is that I am in a squirrel room somewhere towards Iceland and I am an orphan.

Deserted by my parents. It's a tragedy.