This is exactly how I feel whenever I am in one of these behemoths
Phot by Nebojsa Novakovik
Soon the channel of firmament would pool with a star, then three, then a hundred, and it would keep filling and deepening until the stars sifted and flowed between the tops of the trees in their own river, whose coves would mirror the one they were on. He had thought it before, and he loved thinking about the two rivers. . .
They had passed a wide cove with a pair of loons, one was probably nested nearby, and when they stroked past, the one closest tilted back her head and loosed a pitched wail that must have moved the trees like wind. It pierced the haze and echoed off the waiting forest and rolled over the water like any scream, and seemed to carry a pathos so deep it was a wonder a mere world could support it.
Wynn felt like they had paddled this stretch of shore now a hundred times. It felt as if they had spent half their lives paddling this piece. If this were really a bad dream, or hell, they would paddle it for another hundred years. . . A place to revisit, to sustain one like Cezanne‘s mountain. Not.
I think I‘ve found a new favourite. Trying to add more #poetry to the rotation of novels and non-fiction. Sometimes reading is also juggling 🤹♀️
Who cares to share a favourite poet?
An appropriate listen for this Mother‘s Day weekend. Feeling much better about my own parenting choices 😂
My Valentine posing with my lovely #happilyeverafter exchange gift from @BookishTrish
Looking forward to the tagged book. I first came across it on Litsy and am very curious about Eastern European/Russian mythology and fairytales. That chocolate will not last the day 😂
Any bookseller will tell you that, even with 100,000 books neatly sorted and shelved in a well-lit, warm shop, if you put an unopened box of books in a dark, cold, dimly lit corner, customers will be rifling through it in a matter of moments. The appeal of a box of unsorted, unpriced stock is extraordinary. Obviously the idea of finding a bargain is part of it but I suspect it goes well beyond that and has parallels with opening gifts.
Recommended by a sister librarian. One woman‘s journey on horseback from Mascouche, Quebec to Chilliwack, British Columbia in 1949. That‘s 4000 miles of riding! Twenty years old with $100 in her pocket and a couple of maps in her pack. Looks like an interesting portrait of Canada, its people and environment mid century. Perhaps a good read for spring should it ever show its face in frigid Saskatchewan 🥶
This inspiration for this writing lesson is the sentence that opens The Bell Jar: “It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn‘t know what I was doing in New York.”
Quite enjoying this book. I‘m not much of a re-reader but it‘s time I revisited the classics I devoured in my youth. After all, much like the proverbial river, we‘re never the same reader twice, are we?
I don‘t know what it is about arctic/Antarctic sea voyages gone bad but I am drawn to these narratives of disaster and survival. If you feel the same but are wary of indulging in all 900 pages of The Terror, I recommend this fine piece of writing that was long listed for the Man Booker. I enjoyed (does that make me a monster?) both novels immensely. Any recommendations to feed my arctic fever? Both fiction and non-fiction welcome 🥶
Sumner feels the pain growing behind his eyeballs, a sour sickness curdling in his stomach. Talking to Drax is like shouting into the blackness and expecting the blackness to answer back in kind.
“There‘s no reasoning with a man like you,” he says.
I couldn‘t find a picture to suit my mind‘s image of Drax so caulker‘s mate Hickey will have to stand in as the resident arctic sociopath 😰
“The air is dark and full of water. He is soaked to the skin. Gos is nowhere to be seen. He is tying pieces of rabbit to all the places where the hawk had been. They are like prayers, like the tattered ribbons pagans tie to winter twigs.”
This quote sent me down the rabbit hole of clotties and wishing trees, my only experience of which is the common trail marker, neon and ubiquitous when hiking in Canada. Prayers of a sort I guess😆
From a short meditation on how and why we choose books as we age. A quick glance at my 1000+ TBR makes me think I will never discover who I want to be much less be able to read about all the lives I will never live. I spent New Year‘s day in a large bookstore and nearly fainted from the manifestation of seemingly infinite choices. Oh well. The joy is in the effort to read as much as possible before my own story comes to an end. [Link to article⬇️]
“...I am beginning to see that for some people a hawk on the hand of a stranger urges confession, urges confidences, lets you speak words about hope and home and heart. And I realise, too, that in all my days of walking Mabel the only people who have come up and spoken to us have been outsiders: children, teenage goths, homeless people, overseas students, travellers, drunks, people on holiday.
Always read the book first. Just finished the series and I want to debrief/slap the screenwriter on the hack job S/he made of the last 2-3 episodes. Preaching to the choir here, but seriously, never put your faith into an adaptation of a literary work. Do read this book and then, only then, watch the series for its superb performances. My hat off to Simmons for creating a wonderful piece of ice horror/speculative fiction.
My power was out for 6 hours today. No point going into work and couldn‘t bake. Put another 200 page dent in this chunkster. Faired better than the crews of Terror and Erebus on half rations of cheese sticks and crackers. Too early for grog or whisky so settled for cold coffee. No polar bear sightings. When power was restored at about 3:30 this afternoon, I was able to heat up a can of delightfully un-putrid soup. Only 120 more days of winter...
I did it and with an hour to spare before the library closes! Michael Palin does a marvellous job of telling the story of the Erebus. I must admit I wanted more info on the Franklin expedition but it was fascinating to read about Ross and Crozier‘s Antarctic journey with the same set of ships. Next read must be The Terror by Dan Simmons. I‘ve watched 2/3 of the series but I feel like I‘m missing iceberg sized chunks of the story.
Ok, Michael and Sansa, lets do this! I‘m on page 151 of 310 and it‘s due tomorrow. Will the giant glass of red wine help or hinder my progress? Stay tuned...
‘Beer...was served out at the rate one one quart per “biped” which was said to disorder some of the people‘s attics.‘
This week‘s haiku horoscope from Winnipeg‘s own Jonathan Ball (Jonathanball.com). I‘ve been listening to his podcast, Writing the Wrong Way. He‘s got a very practical approach to the craft which I think anyone who enjoyed Stephen King‘s On Writing would appreciate.
I have yet to read a Neil Gaiman book without at least one line that causes me to burst into tears.
Everything I want to comment on would be a spoiler so I will just note that now I know what all the fuss is about and who to thank for inspiring so many writers over the years. 🥂to Shirley Jackson!
👻 And many thanks to @TheKidUpstairs for gifting this to me in an exchange last Halloween. Great choice!
13 pages in and this narrator! Ah, Mr. Eco, it‘s been far too long since I‘ve picked up one of your novels.
No, it‘s not ok. I was really enjoying learning about the history of plagues 😠
I weep for our future. Or maybe this is very avant guard? Screenshots of some of the top ten “Books” apps.
The protagonist has a theory about how we “infect” people with our speech patterns and that‘s how we keep ourselves human. I think she‘s on to something 🤔
I have this theory that baking is about mojo. Some days you have it, others ... not so much. I‘ve had such a crappy day trying to bake a wedding cake that I‘m ready to throw in my apron and spend the rest of the night with a book and a jug of mojitos 😭