In which I discuss some of the skinny volumes, which have nestled into my bookbag. (Meanwhile longer works, like Timothy Findley's The Piano Man's Daughter and Greg Iles' Natchez Burning, were left at home.) Stephen Thomas' The Jokes is not funny-haha, but funny-hmmm. It's not meant to be funny-haha either, although many
Henry K. Larsen -- star of Susin Nielsen's last novel -- was a savvy young fellow: "I know I can’t change my stupid red hair or my stupid freckles. But I can lower my freak flag." Tundra Books, 2015 In contrast, Stewart -- star of her most recent
With chapters named for the days of the week in Street Angel and with specific dates in a given week in Adult Onset, these two novels seem to make ideal reading companions. Ultimately, much of literary fiction is preoccupied with time. Whether it is Molly Bloom's day in James Joyce's
For Today I Am a Boy is a very ordinary story, told in a gentle and quiet voice. Kim Fu's novel does not challenge vehemently, like Ghalib Islam's brash debut or Helen Oyeyemi's Boy, Snow, Bird. "My father stood on the step and watched with me. It was the fall
In the beginning, Joel gets a new job. It's a moment that might be filled with potential, promise. He could be the figure on the cover of the novel, leaping into the air. Alternatively, Joel could be that figure on the cover and be plummeting to the earth, about to
