It’s been a MARMvellous week indeed, with several in our cosy group already posting about their reading: Bill has reached farthest back into MA’s chronology with Lady Oracle; Rebecca has read The Penelopiad; Kaggsy both Dearly and “Cut & Thirst”; and Bron joined in with “Death by Clamshell”. Beyond
In which I read two books with #NovNov in mind, hosted by Rebecca and Cathy: one novella that feels like an expanded short story, and the other that swells with links of main character and themes across three segments. First published in Rio de Janeiro’s newspaper from 1881-1882 and
“It’s November; it’s almost bedtime”—in autumn 1919, when older Iris remembers reading her ABCs as a child, and determines that she’s never been the kind of person who could drive off a bridge. Neither she nor her mother was that sort, but her father could have and, it seems
“I was big on grit,” she says in an interview* where she describes finding old pages of writing from her childhood and teenagehood. She wrote a novel about an ant, still unfinished. And there were musings on the Hungarian Revolution and despair. “I had an eye for lawn-litter and
In a 1990 interview* MA talks about writing The Edible Woman in a chaotic Vancouver apartment: papers strewn everywhere, piles only she could decipher, and very little furniture (including a card table loaned by Jane Rule). Not how you’d imagine writers working (chair, desk), she says. It was a
