A blog about books, the publishing world, and maintaining ultimate litness.
I’m a sucker for WW2 novels, so I wolfed down The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah, but it’s definitely not perfect. There were inconsistencies and unrealistic events (like occasionally forgetting to age characters appropriately or having a beautiful meal seasoned with lemon and garnished with fresh herbs in the middle of war-time rationed France). But I […]
**inspired by “The Swing” by Jean-Honoré Fragonard hands at my back pushing forward and up, up, up, the breeze tugging at my face until I felt weightless, the chain squealing in protest, and I looked down at a ground that seemed too big and too far, and my heart jumped. And then back down, down, […]
You recommended that I ignore the feet under me. They’ll guide me. They’ll do all the work. And I bent toward you like a plant toward the sunlight and saw an asymmetrical world. It was only right. I now had character misfitting of you. And I wanted a deed to your mind. You gave […]
Their stepmother had warned them to check the license plates before they got in. It was half right and perhaps it’s because us females learn to rebel against the ingrained teaching to be scared or perhaps it’s because memory is a fickle thing, especially paired against the strong impulse of a moment, or perhaps it’s […]
I used to wonder what it’d be like— growing old with you. How you might clutch your cane in one hand and my hand in the other as we hobble down our street on achy hips and arthritic feet and how you might forget my name every once in a while or even that we’re […]
I used to sleep on my stomach, eyes and left ear buried in the crook of my left elbow, right palm pressing into my right ear. reducing my senses to touch, smell, and taste. We wouldn’t need those in sleep anyway. My momma told me, “Close your eyes and tell them to go away.” […]
I never understood the allure of the dance until it was my only excuse to be close to you and then the sidestep came naturally. The weave, fallaway, reverse, pivot. Close enough to feel your breath on my temple and see your pulse in your neck and then arm-length away, distant enough to feel […]
Well, I’m not disappointed. That’s the most important takeaway, I suppose. The novel is not nearly as good as The Weight of Ink, but I wasn’t expecting it to be, and I could still see the budding skill and voice that bloomed in her later book. In Tolstoy Lied: A Love Story, you can definitely […]
Welcome to another booktube trend! Today I’m listing book tropes that I really don’t like to see in books. When I was doing some research and watching Book Tropes I Hate videos on Youtube, I noticed a lot of them included things that boiled down to genuinely bad writing. I’m going to try to avoid […]
A warped face on the bottom of the glass but the child only saw a pig. A pig, and nothing more. She studied the thin, black holes of eyes, nose large and prominent, tip of the upper lip barely visible over the thick white liquid. It was watching her. She drank quicker so it could […]