It's that time of year again. Sprinklers dot the sidewalks with water. Fresh cut grass sticks to flip flops. And the air thickens with anticipation (oh and humidity).
In the first four months of 2018, I read 57 books, which is twice as many as I read last year in a third of the time. So what changed?
At the latest meeting of the Nightlighter's book club we read Mary Oliver’s book of poetry Why I Wake Early. It got mixed reviews...
Breakups are not always rational. This is what watching 9 seasons of Seinfeld taught me. And I apply this learning beyond personal relationships. I apply it to books as well.
It’s been 20 hours since I dragged my overstuffed carry-on suitcase through the doorway of my house. After three taxis, a three-hour train ride, countless hours at the airport, a six hour flight and one narrowly averted snow storm, I’m finally here, at my hotel in Spain. Exhausted and excited.
Kindness. It's something I think everyone would agree this world could use a lot more of. Good thing there are lots of books to help inspire us to be kinder to each other!
I am a Valentine's Day Scrooge. I think it's a Hallmark-created holiday full of needless obligation to buy needless things. But that's depressing...so let's talk about 2 WAY better holidays!
Books make me happy in a way that may confuse many people. It's a kind of obsessive, craving love that would be unhealthy if it were directed at a human.
With the recent Women's March and women taking a larger role on the world stage, the idea of feminism has been on my mind a lot. I am a feminist and proud. But what made me this way?