There’s that two-story brick building downtown on the corner—where family members bought my Great Aunt wedding gifts when she was a young married woman, where my mother bought her schoolbooks in grade thirteen, where I admired the Hummel figurines when I was a girl. Over the decades, both name
Since 2020, my bookbag has been at home more often than not, so this has also become a place to share the books I’ve found myself reading in bits and pieces. Originally, I bought Democracy with last year’s MARM in mind, for Margaret Atwood’s contribution. It opens with a
Seasonally, my reading is a little all over the place. On Saturday we had a full day of snow. On Sunday a full day of rain. On Monday we couldn’t open the back doors. The front door was protected, but the walkway and steps a solid sheet of ice:
You might remember that I have resolved to choose some books differently this year. Not only library duedates and review deadlines: I have been trying to look out my window as often as I look down at my book. And, so, I reread Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s
Kaggsy’s and Lizzy’s fifth annual celebration of Indie publishers in the UK is a regular reminder to celebrate the independent voices in this industry. All month, I’ve been reading with this event in mind, and I am finishing just in time to contribute. (My first post was here. The
