Joan Barfoot's Abra McGraw-Hill Ryerson, 1978 Edition shown: Women's Press (UK) 1999 The first Joan Barfoot novel that I read was Family News (1989), dating to a time when I only irregularly noted the books that I read in a coilbound exercise book, so I know that I sought out
Well, I can't complain. Although I found the audio version of Barbara Kingsolver's work very tedious listening, I don't think there's any question of the sophisticated storytelling in The Lacuna. (After 5 hours of listening, I realized that I wasn't going to adjust to her delivery style, but I did
Jeffrey Eugenides' "Extreme Solitude" The New Yorker - June 7, 2010 issue There has been some chatter about magazine subscriptions lately (at Inklings and Pickle Me This) and that's gotten me feeling even a little more guilty about not keeping up with my "New Yorker" issues (as opposed to the
So, while I was busy complaining about the length of my final Orange Prize read, I was thinking about how many historical novels are unwieldy. I was thinking about the Margaret George novels, which have started to turn yellow they've been sitting on my shelves for so long (you know,
Barbara Comyn's The Vet's Daughter Virago, 1981 (1959) It must seem a little silly, but I've counted Barbara Comyns amongst my favourite writers since I read 3/4 of her Sisters by a River several summers ago. Since then, I've steadily collected her works, but I've never finished that initial read
