On the day that I got my visitor’s card at the library here, I borrowed Marie-Louise Gay’s Mustafa (2018): a children’s story (Gay illustrates, writes, and translates) about a boy who searches for himself, in the space between his old country and his new country. Certains soirs, Mustafa rêve
As you might guess, many kilometres north now, I’ve found that the weather grows cold more quickly. It was a shock to change the bedding, to the December-Freeze set, at the end of September. To pull the scarves and toques from the closet (but not, quite, mittens and gloves).
Last year, I was inspired by a local artist’s desk calendar to explore a series of cities in my reading. This year I’ve been exploring migration and lives in motion: often involuntary, frequently devastating, sometimes inspiring. This sense of between-ness reminds me of this passage in a 2021 debut
This year I’ve been reading more non-fiction than usual. It’s not that I’ve been trying, it’s only that I’ve allowed my curiosity to access my holds queue. When I have questions after I’ve finished a novel, I’ve allowed myself to wander more than usual. It’s created an interesting rhythm
Boyles, Chen, Clerson, Eunyoung, Li, Ruffin, and So Short Stories in July, August, and September Whether in a dedicated collection or an anthology, these stories capture a variety of reading moods. This quarter, I returned to a favourite writer and also explored seven new-to-me story writers.
