Summer Books and Where We Read Them
Time and space expands at Lake Temagami.
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Summer Books
I’m coming to this blog with a feeling of guilt. I had intended to comment on many more books. But one day in an effort to create order on my desk and space in my head, I shelved every single book in the growing tower. Then I started a new pile. Writing time has been…
Nothing the Same, Everything Haunted: The Ballad of Motl The Cowboy
A dash of caprice against a backdrop of horror.
Constant Nobody – A Tale of Espionage and Love
There are books in my library that I have reread several times since their first publication. Among them are Timothy Findleys’s Famous Last Words and Pilgrim, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, Alistair Macleod’s And Birds Call Forth The Sun and The Lost Salt Gift of Blood and Carol Shields’ Unless. But until Michelle Butler Hallett’s…
Fine Books for a Plague Year
It’s quite literally been a plague year, but these books have kept my spirits bouyant. I’ve been both engaged and educated.
Mad Dog – A Review
Mad Dog, by Kelly Watt, is a tale that both captivated and terrified me. The writing is exquisite. Ontario summers, circa 1960, evoke the scent of apple orchards, the itchiness of sand inside a bathing suit, and windblown rides in the back of a Bonneville. Then there’s the experience of tentative first-time explorations of sexual…
An Avid Reader Comments
The authors write from a perspective of passionate engagement with an issue that exists in the world.
Book Review: The Carpenter From Montreal
Who knew that the original 4G network was a nexus of gamblers, girls, guns and gangsters, and that the Canadian hotspot was Montreal?
This Marlowe — A Mystery by a Master Storyteller
There are authors and books that make a powerful first impression. When that feeling is sustained through subsequent encounters in person and with their writing, then I know I’m in the presence of someone with a gift. Michelle Butler Hallett is such an author. I met Michelle in the early 2000’s at the Humber School…
Children Grieve Too
“But I didn’t kill him!” That was my seven year old’s anguished response when I had suggested he might say “I’m sorry,” to my brother-in-law whose father had died a few days before. My son had not killed his cousins’ grandpa; a stroke had. However, his retort and his evident distress made me realize how…
Bonnie Lendrum 