It was a close one, Dear Reader. Quiet people drifted over here yesterday. To leave a comment for something free? Or to support an author’s new book?
In this community, I’d say the latter.
The winner of a signed copy of Jessie Bishop Powell’s The Marriage at the Rue Morgue is…….
Congratulations, Karen. I know where to send your prize. I hope you’ll read it and write a review.
I blame my father for my third spider bite in July. Same leg. Thigh. Back of knee. Front of thigh, just above the knee.
Dad distracted me, the third time.
I sat at an outdoor picnic table. Awaiting barbecue pork made in heaven. Or Hemingway, South Carolina (which is decidedly NOT heaven in July or any other season.)
Dad must’ve tired of talking to strangers inside Scott’s BBQ, because he shambled…
A wedding. A monster-in-law. Two orangutans. And porn. Jessie Bishop Powell’s debut mystery The Marriage at the Rue Morgue doesn’t disappoint.
It doesn’t follow the usual tricks of the genre. Readers have characters to care about, with real, page-turning development. Scientific details don’t lull the reader to sleep. Instead, they enhance the action. Even the details of planning a…
When does a girl become a woman? Develop those fabled feminine wiles? Is it during wide-eyed, chub-cheeked infanthood? Her inaugural surf of the red wave? Maybe it happens the first time she, um………..logs her First Time. Or maybe it’s the first time she enjoys it.
Whatever the provenance of True Womanhood, some girls have it.
July found me. Sitting on an ancient velveteen sofa. At…
So what do they do, they turn around in their chair and show their coworker. And their coworker says, “Oh, hey, that’s great. Send that to Bill down the way.” And then Bill sends it to George, George sends it to Tom. Sooner or later, this person’s whole life has been seen by all of these other people. It’s never reported, nobody ever knows about it because the auditing of these systems is very weak. The fact that your private images, records of your private lives, records of your intimate moments have been taken from your private communications stream, from the intended recipient, and given to the government without any specific authorization, without any specific need, is in itself a violation of your rights? Why is that in a government database?
You’ve probably never heard of him. Unless you’re a serious photographer.
from the Wynn Bullock website
Instead, I found myself alone. Wandering three galleries of otherworldly photographs. Unlike anything. Unique.
Would it be weird to…
MTM used to race cars. With people who went on to become actual NASCAR drivers. He worked as a mechanic through high school and college, when his prized possession was a 1969 Oldsmobile Cutlass W-31.
(I had to google it too, Dear Reader.)
Why did I find myself in a museum exhibit called “Dream Cars” last week?
Snapping photographs of sexy rear fenders and cone bra headlights and…
Eclectic reader? Adventurous reader? Snobbish reader?
I’ve been called all those things by people who aren’t readers. Because to me, a person is either a reader or they’re not.
I classify books as “great books” and “dreck.” Period. I don’t even pay attention to the genre, because I don’t care. A good book deserves to be read, especially when we are served up so many not-good-books and told to…
In the American South, people structure their entire existences around college football. It’s like going to mass. Every weekend there’s a home game, people climb into their mascot-themed vehicles, drive hours in traffic, spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a buffet that would rival a royal marriage reception, and generally cannot be relied upon to do anything other than worship at the…
If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking. – Haruki Murakami
Maybe Murakami’s quote applies to everything. Perhaps I’ll out myself as a hopeless snob. If I lose a few readers or start a debate, GREAT. I’m typing what I have to say, because I can’t sit on it any longer.
I am sick of the simpering sameness that permeates all creative…