Although I always have a small stack of books underway, I have carried to extremes this act of multi-booking this summer. Yesterday I finished Michael Crummey’s new novel (Sweetland), Alison Wearing’s memoir (Confessions of a Fairy’s Daughter), Jan Zwicky’s poetry collection, the second volume in the Fruits Basket manga series,
These stories were chosen “to be read rather than merely admired, or even envied”, including five previously unpublished stories. Thirty years later, the list of contents conjures up echoes of the Giller Prize, Canada Reads, and even a Pulitzer. Frances Itani’s “Grandmother” “And she has long known what the rest of
Choosing a stack based on whimsy rather than duty urged me to binge on these books with enthusiasm. The afternoon heat was held at bay by good stories and an assortment of drinks (often rum with some sort of fruit juice, from tangerine to strawberry, lemon to cherry). And without
Sometimes a stack of reading goes stale. For no good reason. You know what I mean. Maybe you're just bored with the covers. Or you've been teasing the books along with a page here and there, when they needed some quality one-on-one time. That's where I was with my stack,
Coming Home: Stories from the Northwest Territories (Enfield & Wizenty, 2012) In the foreword, Richard Van Camp writes that this collection is a "testament to the beauty of the land, the communities and the people who choose to live here" and he welcomes readers to the works. The same words might
