How to Get Rich When You Aren’t Even Trying… But Are…Like… Sitting Reading a Book
Oh, I do apologize for the “click-bait” title. Oh course, I did not mean getting rich in the usual sense of the word. Not big piles of money rich, or huge killing on the stock market kind of rich. Not even enormous …
In Praise of Gentle Reading
Yesterday I had a lovely Pym-ish morning. Hubby was out power walking in the cold wind. But I was lolling on the sofa in our sun room, cup of tea at my elbow, gazing out the window at the sun …
Haunting Books
A few years ago I was privileged to head up the English department in a brand spanking new school that was just opening. What an exciting, exhilarating, and exhausting time that was. The English teachers (including moi) worked really hard as a team to build …
Being a Teenager Can Be Murder… Literally.
I’m home in New Brunswick this week and next. Staying with my mum in her new little home. Mum moved out of the old farmhouse a couple of years ago, and into a much smaller, and more manageable house, but …
Downstairs, Not Upstairs, Books
Last week I had lunch with a friend with whom I share a love of Jane Austen, Anita Brookner, mystery novels and all things Mitford. Over our coffee, as we gushed a bit about Downton Abbey… the elegant clothes, the sumptuous settings…, …
When Well-Loved Books Become Movies, and Mini-Series… Maybe
As I said in my last post, I recently (finally) finished Donna Tartt’s book The Goldfinch. I think she is a wonderful writer. Although I must say there were times when I wished her editors had been a bit more strict with …
Further Consequences of Reading: The Goldfinch and “Value Added” Books
I’m a bit late on the bandwagon, I know… but I’ve just started reading Donna Tartt’s newest book, The Goldfinch. I was a little hesitant to even begin it, despite all the praise I’ve heard. My experience last fall with Eleanor …
Paris Dreaming
The view from my window these past three days has varied, to say the least. From brown grass and ice-covered river, to sideways snowfall, to nothing while the freezing rain pelted my window and obscured the view altogether, and finally to a limp, …
A Mind For Murder: Saying Good-bye to P.D. James
P.D. James died last week, “peacefully at home in Oxford,” at age ninety four. But I’m sure you know this already. She was one of a kind. A seemingly gentle, charming and erudite woman who loved to talk and wonder and …
Love, Sex, Pain and The Whole Damned Thing… or October Book Club
On a dark and windy (but not stormy) night, just before Halloween, my book club gathered at the beautiful home of one our members, to eat and drink and talk about war. More specifically about books on World War I. …