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
Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu's The Shadow Speaker Hyperion 2007 Yes, it was only two weeks ago that I was G is for Gushing about Hiromi Goto's Half World. And part of me is inclined to apologize because I'm about to Gush again, but the bigger part of me remains unapologetic: I just
Lewis Buzbee's The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop: A Memoir, A History Graywolf Press, 2006 Welcome to another bookish Friday. I've had Lewis Buzbee's slim volume on my shelf since it was published in hardcover. Which seems a little silly now -- having left it sitting for so long, when it can be
