As of this morning, I finished my 11th book of the year. I’m trying to vary lengths so I don’t ‘cheat’ with short books only. So far, I’ve read: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – in two days, on an island. The Lacuna – in a little more than two days, back to reality. The Slap – I’m still calling this one ‘The Bitch Slap’. A Very Private Gentleman – quoted here. I Was Amelia Earhart – which…
Rising in Grady was an ungovernable laughter, a joyous agitation which made the white summer stretching before her seem like an unrolling canvas on which she might draw those first rude pure strokes that are free. Then, too, and with a straight face, she was laughing because there was so little they suspected, nothing. The light quivering against the table silver seemed to at once encourage her excitement and to flash a warning signal: careful, dear. But elsewhere something said…
I recently finished Warm Bodies, a post-apocalypse love story in which one of the couple happens to be a zombie with other zombie friends. I was going to say it’s not my usual, but I’ve decided I don’t have a go-to genre anymore. I’ll read anything. If it’s good. But of course I won’t know if it’s good until I read it. I can’t say no to anything, really. Especially a book I can read in one night while Sarge…
In the time it took Sarge to read one chapter of Ulysses, I started and finished I Was Amelia Earhart, recommended by DB over at Getting in Touch with my Inner Basket Case. This book was a blink. A very poetic blink. I wanted it to be longer, but I realise now the length was perfect for the story, the moments. It reminded me of any books read in any year of High School English. This is part of its…
‘I enjoy books. No room is fit for occupation without a lining of books. They contain the condensed experiences of humanity. To live fully, one has to read widely. I do not intend to face a man-eating lion in the African veld, fall from an aircraft into the Arabian Sea, soar through outer space or march with the legions of Rome against Gaul or Carthage, yet books can take me to these places, to these predicaments.’ — A Very Private…
