Well, I'm reporting about a book I did not finish. I used to finish every. single. book. I ever read, but about 10 years ago I gave up on that. If the book doesn't speak to me after about 50 pages, I'm out. I gave this book 64 pages. And then I gave up. The... Continue Reading →
“People who buy books ... are of two kinds. There are those who buy because they love books and what they can get from them, and those to whom books are one form of entertainment among several. ... The second group has to be courted” (p. 117). . Which kind of book buyer are you?... Continue Reading →
At the end of one of my English 1010 classes, a student wrote a magnificent paper. I don’t remember the exact theme or her argument, but I do remember that she had used Mary Pipher’s Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls (1994) as a source. Now, this student was no ordinary student. She... Continue Reading →
When I went to Goodreads to mark Middlemarch (number 20 on the BBC book list, which I am working my way through) as “read” and to give it five stars (yes, it’s that good), I noticed that most everybody else who had written reviews of the novel felt the same way I did. Here’s a... Continue Reading →
Cloud Atlas, number 82 on the BBC book list, is one of the strangest books I have ever read. My sister loaned it to me after she read it for a college class. At the time, I was a new stay-at-home mom and had a tiny baby who didn’t do much but eat, cry, and... Continue Reading →
The talented Nora Ephron, born May 19, 1941, died yesterday (June 26, 2012) at the age of 71. She is best known for her screenwriting of “Sleepless in Seattle” (which she also directed) and “When Harry Met Sally.” She also wrote plays, essays, and novels. I enjoyed reading her book of essays I Feel Bad... Continue Reading →
I recently read Zora Neale Hurston’s masterpiece, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937). It is the second time I have picked up this book. The first time occurred about a decade ago, and I got intimidated and stopped reading. Sometimes I do that. I let the first few pages of a book slide through my... Continue Reading →
I like beauty pageants. (The feminist inside of me just shrieked. She does every time I admit this.) My involvement in pageants (as a contestant and a director) has waned because of my discomfort with the swimsuit competition and the focus on perfect figures and poufy hair, insubstantial qualities that do not matter. However, pageants... Continue Reading →
Okay. I admit it! I like chick lit. I do. I know that as a self-proclaimed student of serious literature that I shouldn’t. But I can’t help it. The books are funny and, for me, the ultimate escape. I can read them quickly without effort and at the end I feel relaxed and rejuvenated. Where’s... Continue Reading →
I’m vain. Let’s face it. I always have been. I like to look nice, and when I’m done making myself look nice, I like to admire myself in the mirror. As a young teenager, I swore that if I ever needed glasses, I would skip straight to contacts and never let anybody know that I... Continue Reading →
The Bookshelf of Emily J. 