Welcome to the fourth journey inspired by my desk calendar—first described en route to Copenhagen, then London and Havana. Just this random spark, my curiosity, and my library card: everything I needed to expand my horizons, to counter the inclination to withdraw when the news seemed menacing. But
This week, I'm just going to share a few random thoughts about this story. Not Paris. Not Italy. Madrid. (There are so many pretty pictures of Madrid. But this picture makes me think of the women in the story.) Pillar fears she is too old to remarry. She married
If you are reading this post because you are part of the #1965Club, and you haven’t heard of Marie-Claire Blais, you are about to wonder how that can be true. (And if you also haven't heard of #1965Club, please visit Karen's and Simon's sites to learn more.) Blais has published
To begin with, young Laura is rushed into packing her things into plastic bags. Just a few pages later, Sylvie is thrust into "double-time walking" with her mom. Either of these girls could be the "in-motion" girl on the cover of Catherine Hernandez's Scarborough. But they are only two
The dead fuel Jesmyn Ward's novels. She feels the weight of their stories; she shoulders them, shares them. In Sing, Unburied, Sing, their chorus of voices - even in the epigraphs but also in the novel - reverberates between and beyond the covers. Ward's are heart-shattering stories. But they
