From November 1, 2023 through November 30, 2023 I’ll be reading Margaret Atwood, and you’re invited to join: yes, the 6th MARM is on the books. On the 18th, Margaret Atwood celebrates her 84th birthday and quietly I’ll be celebrating, by reading her work (maybe there will be cake).
"Your father’s dead,” Malone said. This was reported neither with relish nor with sympathy. In a way, Tester liked this best. No pretense of concern. Your father is dead. Outwardly Tester took the news with great calm. Inwardly he felt the sun close its distance from the earth; it came
"All through the summer that came after it, as I slid into grief’s silent central eye, falling asleep like a cat in sunny patches, on the corners of settees or curled on rugs, I dreamed that she wasn’t dead at all, and had only gone away without telling me; and
Late January, my mother died. This is one of the photographs I shared with her that month: "lovely," she said, and mentioned that I'd sent photographs of this street before, and that's true, because I have appreciated observing the way that strip of birch trees changes with the seasons. Small
In last year’s Reflections post (thinking back on 2021’s reading, from January 2022), I realised that I hadn’t read at all according to plan the previous year. And…I had what will likely prove to be the reading year of my lifetime in 2021. Which is how you create a
