The Paris Review - A Literary Wonderland
From one of the most classic literary journals of all time, famous for its author interviews (among other things), comes the PR feed. Grab your coffee and conjure your most literary mindset cause you're going to need it. Academics and shut-ins will wet their pants over this. Ya gotta love it!
833 topics in this forum
-
- 0 replies
- 178 views
In Re-Covered, Lucy Scholes exhumes the out-of-print and forgotten books that shouldn’t be. The Fortnight in September was republished this month by Scribner. “The man on his holidays becomes the man he might have been, the man he could have been, had things worked out a little differently,” writes R. C. Sherriff in The Fortnight in September, his unassuming but utterly beguiling tale of an ordinary lower-middle-class London family during the interwar years, on their annual holiday to the English seaside town of Bognor Regis. “All men are equal on their holidays: all are free to dream their castles without thought of expense, or skill of architect.” First published in…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 173 views
Tyshawn Sorey. Photo: Sharif Hamza. Tyshawn Sorey is a remarkable figure in contemporary music. For the past twenty years, he has been among the most highly regarded and in-demand drummers in avant-garde jazz, playing with major contemporary figures such as Steve Coleman, Kris Davis, Vijay Iyer, and Steve Lehman, as well as veterans like Marilyn Crispell, Myra Melford, Roscoe Mitchell, and John Zorn. On albums like Alloy, The Inner Spectrum of Variables, and Verisimilitude—the trilogy of trio records he released between 2014 and 2017—he blurs the boundaries between jazz and classical music, exploring sound textures and patches of silence as well as driving rhythms. Over …
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 174 views
Caio Fernando Abreu. Photo courtesy of Adriana Franciosi. First Letter for beyond the Walls Something happened to me. Something so strange that I still haven’t figured out a way to talk about it clearly. When I finally know what it was, this strange thing, I will also know the way. Then I’ll be clear, I promise. For you, for myself. As I’ve always meant to be. But for now, please try to understand what I’m trying to say. It is with significant effort that I write you. And that’s not just a literary way of saying that writing means stirring the depths—like Clarice, like Pessoa. In Carson McCullers it hurt physically, in a body made of flesh and veins and muscle. For i…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 185 views
Every week, the editors of The Paris Review lift the paywall on a selection of interviews, stories, poems, and more from the magazine’s archive. You can have these unlocked pieces delivered straight to your inbox every Sunday by signing up for the Redux newsletter. In His Analysands’ Chair, 2000. This week at The Paris Review, we’re thinking about psychoanalysis and the interpretation of dreams. Read on for Adam Phillips’s Art of Nonfiction interview, an excerpt from Sigrid Nunez’s novel The Friend, Joanna Scott’s short story “A Borderline Case,” and Mark Scott’s poem “Freudian Tenderness,” as well as selections from a 1984 portfolio of Louise Bourgeois drawings. Inter…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 182 views
As the only Jew in my class, it fell to me to introduce the single Hanukkah song included in the annual winter concert at Randolph Elementary. All I had to do was approach the microphone and name the preceding song (That was “Silent Night”) and say what we were singing next (Now we will present “Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah”) and then return to my place on the metal bleachers which had been set up in the cafeteria for the performance. I wasn’t a shy kid, but this task absolutely terrified me, and I worried about it for weeks in advance of the concert. As soon as I knew the names of the songs in question, I would lie awake at night practicing, repeating the words so often their s…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 191 views
Samuel David Colkett, Landscape with Cottage, 1842, oil on canvas, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. The path to the Oracle was best before dawn, past the pond sleepily switching from frogsong to birdsong, through the dark woods fringed with ferns, up the hill so steep that no matter how slowly I went, I was always out of breath when I reached the top. Three years ago, my parents contracted with a logging company to do what they thought was routine cutting of their two hundred and fifty thickly forested acres in New Hampshire. Perhaps they were thinking of men in picturesque plaid shirts with axes and the careful removal of a few choice maples; instead, a machine of …
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 430 views
Linus Borgo, Bed of Stars: Self-Portrait with Elsina and Zip, 2021, oil on canvas, 46 x 68″ (detail). Linus Borgo makes consistently uncanny and gorgeous work, some of which will be featured at Steve Turner Gallery in Los Angeles this January. My favorite of their self-portraits—deadlocked with Fuzzy FTM Transsexual Amputee Plays with Magic Wand and Poppers (Self Portrait)—is Bed of Stars: Self Portrait with Elsina and Zip, in which Linus lies in a pool of deep blue, star-stamped sheets, an oblique banner of sunlight across his torso and thighs, his body filling the frame, toes nearly poking through the border. It’s a work that questions what it is to reproduce an image,…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 235 views
The first thing that needs to be noted about the collected works of MacKenzie Bezos, novelist, currently consisting of two titles, is how impressive they are. Will either survive the great winnowing that gives us our standard literary histories? Surely not. Precious few novels do. Neither even managed, in its initial moment of publication, to achieve the more transitory status of buzzy must-read. But this was not for want of an obvious success in achieving the aims of works of their kind—that kind being literary fiction, so called to distinguish it from more generic varieties. In Bezos’s hands it is a fiction of close observation, deliberate pacing, credible plotting, bel…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 241 views
Photo: Tereza Červeňová/Morgenbladet When Amia Srinivasan published her essay “Does Anyone Have the Right to Sex?” in the London Review of Books in early 2018, several months into the public discussions surrounding #MeToo, it provoked many strong feelings—not to mention gave the world the sentence: “Sex is not a sandwich.” Opening with a reading of the incel manifesto written by the perpetrator of the Isla Vista killings, it became a far-reaching meditation on the ideological, political, and public dimensions of sexual desire and how we might begin to think more critically about them. Srinivasan trained as a philosopher at Yale and then Oxford, where she has since estab…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 203 views
Every week, the editors of The Paris Review lift the paywall on a selection of interviews, stories, poems, and more from the magazine’s archive. You can have these unlocked pieces delivered straight to your inbox every Sunday by signing up for the Redux newsletter. Ali Smith, with Leo, in Cambridge, 2003. This week at The Paris Review, the leaves are changing, the air is cooling, and the autumn equinox approaches. Read on for Ali Smith’s Art of Fiction interview, Robert Walser’s work of fiction “From the Essays of Fritz Kocher,” and Reginald Shepherd’s poem “A Muse.” If you enjoy these free interviews, stories, and poems, why not subscribe to The Paris Review? You’ll a…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 190 views
In her monthly column The Moon in Full, Nina MacLaughlin illuminates humanity’s long-standing lunar fascination. Each installment is published in advance of the full moon. Pieter Brueghel the Elder, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, ca. 1558, oil on canvas mounted on wood, 29 x 44″. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. In 1957, the first satellite was launched into orbit around the earth. A gleaming metallic sphere about two feet in diameter with four long antennae, it had the look of a robot daddy longlegs. It weighed a hundred and eighty-four pounds and sped through space at about eighteen thousand miles per hour. After three months and more than fourteen hundred sp…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 348 views
Illustration: Liby Hays. Courtesy of Hays. Liby Hays’s Geniacs!, a graphic novel out this summer from the art book publisher Landfill Editions, takes place at a hackathon—truly inspired material for slapstick comedy, body horror, and philosophical reflection alike. This tech competition’s goal? Invent a new life-form. “People always think my ideas are dumb … but they’re purposefully so! Their failure is coded within them! It’s like when scientists artificially reanimate the cells of a dead pig’s brain. The brain becomes trapped in an infinite loop reliving the terror of its final moments. But within that narrow terror loop… We might find potential for new forms of though…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 209 views
Gustave Caillebotte, Woman at a Dressing Table, 1873. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons My grandmother collected perfume bottles, a seeming whimsy for a woman of such plainness and ferocity. I have three of them, given to me when she was still alive. They lived in a drawer and then later, in a decorative moment, on the bookshelf, where I have since placed them higher and higher out of reach, as my daughter has attempted to climb up to play with them, a slow-moving game between us, until now they are so high up as to be out of view. I tend not to be sentimental about objects, but I at least don’t want them to break, this being all I possess from my grandmother, anythin…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 225 views
Graham Crumb, 2011, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons. People were drinking wine out of plastic cups. The chairs were pushed close together. Bags were tucked under feet. I sat on the bookshop stage with two other writers, ready to read our ghost stories. Before we began, the moderator asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?” After a pause, we spoke of doubt. Creepy incidents were related. I found myself saying that perhaps the dead might be watching us. I’ve never seen a soul move through the air. I am not sure that we are anything more than a skin-bag of electrical impulses. But ghosts are different from the other uncanny citizens. They are only one step away from the know…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 232 views
On April 12, The Paris Review announced N. Scott Momaday as the recipient of the 2021 Hadada Award, presented each year to a “distinguished member of the writing community who has made a strong and unique contribution to literature.” Over the past few months, the Daily has published a series of short essays devoted to his work. Today, in the final piece of the series, Terry Tempest Williams writes about her decades-long friendship with Momaday, the power of his work, and what can be done to atone for ecological destruction. N. Scott Momaday, Dance Group, 2015. Courtesy of Momaday. The events of one’s life take place, take place. How often have I used this expression, an…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 249 views
Every week, the editors of The Paris Review lift the paywall on a selection of interviews, stories, poems, and more from the magazine’s archive. You can have these unlocked pieces delivered straight to your inbox every Sunday by signing up for the Redux newsletter. Ishmael Reed, 2015. This week at The Paris Review, we’re marking the seven hundredth anniversary of Dante’s death on September 14. Read on for Ishmael Reed’s Art of Poetry interview, Hans Magnus Enzensberger’s “Identity Check,” Evie Shockley’s “ex patria,” and a translation of Dante Alighieri himself by Robert Pinsky. If you enjoy these free interviews, stories, and poems, why not subscribe to The Paris Revi…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 216 views
On April 12, The Paris Review announced N. Scott Momaday as the recipient of the 2021 Hadada Award, presented each year to a “distinguished member of the writing community who has made a strong and unique contribution to literature.” To honor the multifariousness of Momaday’s achievements, the Daily is publishing a series of short essays devoted to his work. Today, Chelsea T. Hicks considers Momaday’s revolutionary novels, House Made of Dawn and The Ancient Child, which blend the conventions of American literary realism with the oral tradition of Kiowa storytelling. N. Scott Momaday, 1968. From the Yale Collection of Western Americana, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript L…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 460 views
Dev Patel in David Lowery’s The Green Knight, 2021. Photo: Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of A24 Films. The Green Knight offers all the thrilling props a Camelot geek could want: deep-hooded cloaks and pointy headdresses, thatch-roofed hovels and dim stone halls, blue rune tattoos and prayers to the Virgin Mary that seem awfully close to goddess worship. There is wattle, there is daub, and there is an enviable tunic bedazzled in silver votives. Together, all of it forms a dreamlike reflection of a fraught relationship between Christian and Celtic moralities, human beings and the rest of nature. Fans of Loreena McKennitt, Thomas Hardy, and William Cronon, this one’s for you. …
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 195 views
David Corby, The Tribune Building. Oakland California. Taken from the City Center complex, 2006, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons. When I talk to people in the city about whether they come to Oakland, be it 2007 or 2019, the answer is a resounding “never,” followed by redundant stories of car break-ins and not wanting to take BART at night. No matter how many East Bay, Marin and Contra Costa County, or Central Valley residents head through the Transbay tunnel or across the Golden Gate or Bay Bridge every day to San Francisco, going to Oakland is a seemingly annual trip for city dwellers, who usually make the pilgrimage for city-sponsored art crawls or like-minded Fox …
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 456 views
Aleksey Kivshenko, watercolor illustration of Alexander I and Napoleon meeting in Tilsit in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace, 1893. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. Once upon a time, five people with strong opinions were invited to view an old tree and offer their thoughts. The first one said: “I’m a big-picture person. At first glance, I can say this tree is too big for its own good. We need to lop some limbs off.” The second one said: “It’s not the architecture of the tree that bothers me but the parts that make up the whole. Anywhere I direct my attention, I can see ten or twenty imperfect leaves.” The third one said: “This tree is much too old to be relevant. Its …
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 474 views
From Some Collages, by Jim Jarmusch, published by Anthology Editions. Jim Jarmusch’s small, eerie collages are all about faces. And about the bodies attached to those faces. And about what happens when faces get switched off onto other bodies. You could say that Jarmusch, ever the director, is engaging in exploratory casting. He wants to see Stanley Kubrick in the role of a golfer, and Nico as a Vegas crooner, and Jane Austen winding up on the mound, and Albert Einstein as a rock star, and Bernie Sanders as a dog. Andy Warhol, meanwhile, just goes ahead and casts himself in every role, turning all of them into “Andy Warhol.” Personalities can transfer their qualities to…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 204 views
Atticus Lish in Lexington, Ky., on Sunday, May 30, 2021. Credit: Ryan Hermens I have recommended Atticus Lish’s first novel to more people than any other book. Beautiful without being sentimental, brutal without being cruel, Preparation for the Next Life (2014) is a love story between Zou Lei, an undocumented half-Uighur, half–Han Chinese woman, and Brad Skinner, an Iraq War veteran suffering from PTSD. “He gets it,” I told fellow New Yorkers: the Jackson Heights bars; the Flushing food stalls; the long walks through outer Queens, past housing projects and storefront mosques and cash-and-carries, all the way to the gas stations and football fields of Long Island. Everyon…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 333 views
Every week, the editors of The Paris Review lift the paywall on a selection of interviews, stories, poems, and more from the magazine’s archive. You can have these unlocked pieces delivered straight to your inbox every Sunday by signing up for the Redux newsletter. John McPhee, ca. 2009. Photograph courtesy of the Princeton University Office of Communications. This week at The Paris Review, it’s back to school. Read on for John McPhee’s Art of Nonfiction interview, Shanteka Sigers’s short story “A Way with Bea,” and Melanie Rehak’s poem “Self-Portrait as the Liberal Arts.” If you enjoy these free interviews, stories, and poems, why not subscribe to The Paris Review? Yo…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 517 views
Still from Season 3 of Caveh Zahedi’s The Show about the Show. Courtesy of Zahedi. Many artists are in some sense cannibals, but the filmmaker Caveh Zahedi takes it further than most. The initial premise of his brilliantly deranged series The Show about the Show was that each episode would be about the making of the one before it (so Episode 1 follows Zahedi’s travails in selling the show’s pilot, Episode 2 reveals what went wrong behind the scenes of Episode 1, and so on). When a moment hadn’t been caught on camera, he’d ask everyone to re-create it; if someone refused to repeat the embarrassing thing they’d said, he’d cast an actor to play them instead. The recursive f…
Last reply by Admin_99, -
- 0 replies
- 210 views
In Valerie Stivers’s Eat Your Words series, she cooks up recipes drawn from the works of various writers. Photo: Erica MacLean. Geek Love, Katherine Dunn’s 1989 novel about a family of circus performers, was one of my favorite books in college. I’d memorized the opening lines, in which Al Binewski extols his wife’s grace in biting off chicken heads, and used to get drunk and murmur them to boys at parties: “When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets,” Papa would say, “she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing. ‘Spread your lips, sweet Lil,’ they’d cluck, ‘and show …
Last reply by Admin_99,
ALGONKIAN SUCCESS STORIES
WTF is Wrong With Stephen King?
-
AAC Content Stream
-
0
The Stars at Night
I had seen you around campus. I never expected you to notice me, a nerdy first-year purposely blending into the background, but Zephyr is a small school. I would see you in the food hall or walking across the quad. Once, you opened a door for me and a group of girls from my dorm, your chivalry on display as the gaggle giggled our way out the door of the library’s extended late-night hours. We had wrapped up our Intro to Psych group project by 9:30, plenty of time to get a good night’s sleep; you and a friend were heading in for the late shift, textbooks under your arms. I would have been almost grateful, and a little relieved, to have gone unnoticed. My photo in the “meet” book was best forgotten: I had no idea the unofficial reason behind the compilation of fresh-meat faces and had made the unfortunate faux pas of submitting my senior class photo—not the professional glamour shot everyone else’s parents had seemingly sprung for (one guy, memorably, toasting a glass of wine despite his presumable eighteen years of age), but the bad-backdrop result of the school picture day assembly line, my glasses still dominating the frame. I look at that photo now, also memorialized in my senior yearbook, and can hear myself saying “Cheese!” [Pick up the glasses theme again sometime. Boys don’t make passes…] Still, I did not know your name until I read it in print. The campus student newspaper, run by a bunch of disaffected coffeehouse hipsters, had mockingly sent staffers to provide “sports page” coverage of a typical day on the disc golf course. There you were, a perfect action shot capturing everything but your blurred hand as the photographer-in-training learned to adjust shutter speed in real time. Jordan Evans plays a round on Zephyr University’s new disc golf course. I read the whole story in the privacy of my dorm. I noticed how you escaped the reporter’s snide commentary and contributed just a single, earnest quote, “It’s a nice little study break between classes,” to the cynical sophomore’s investigatory piece into the appeal of the freshly installed course, described as a “twenty-thousand dollar bogey” elsewhere in the story. I remember thinking how charming you must be to have avoided the wrath of Tabatha Choate-Andrews’ sports satire. I sat through a history survey course with Tabatha during my first fall semester, and I was well acquainted with her penchant for injecting an inflated sense of self-importance into any possible medium. The fact that she included your quote without comment and free from her editorializing spoke highly of your ability to smooth ruffled feathers and placate self-images predicated on virtue signaling. That, or you had recognized Tabatha’s presence on the disc golf course for what it was—a hit piece—and had compensated accordingly. Either way, I liked how low-key you were, even when filtered through an angry white girl lens. The lens of the student photographer’s camera, on the other hand, was undeniably taken with you: the picture was stunning. -
25
New York Write to Pitch 2022 - Seven Assignments (12/22)
I. Act of Story Statement The story of a summer semester during which Kim must learn to be comfortable in her own body. II. Antagonistic Forces The antagonistic force is Kim’s own imposter syndrome—she feels she does not belong at Zephyr. The first embodiment of this we meet is Tabatha, a typical disaffected liberal arts student, chain-smoking her way through diatribes at the campus coffeehouse. In the second half of the novel, this frenemy introduces Kim to the antagonistic force’s more powerful proxy—Dr. Deborah Vasbinder-Martinez, the rock star feminist studies professor who is the actual daughter of Kim’s father figure on campus, Dr. Vasbinder, and slowly revealed as the lover of at least one student peer of Kim’s. The cool professor trope goes too far and parallels the allegations flung at the campus celebrity, Phil Stern, a fitness guru. The final form of the antagonistic force in manifested by a pre-med meathead, an upperclassman we often see in the weightroom who is known for bad behavior at parties and his loose friendship with Kim’s love interest. He embodies all the stereotypical behavior of a dumb jock in a way that contrasts with the love interest. III. Breakout Titles The Stars at Night Celestial Bodies Written in the Stars IV. Genre: Women’s Fiction (Upscale, Contemporary) Comparables: The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach, Juno & Juliet by Julian Gough, Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon, Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy, Groundskeeping by Lee Cole, aspiring toward anything by Taylor Jenkins Reid or Caroline Kepnes, nonfiction books like Let’s Get Physical, Body Work—as well as the AppleTV show Physical. V. Conflict and Core Wound Kim finds love with the big man on campus where she attends school for free as the daughter of the landscaper. VI. Inner Conflict Kim’s imposter syndrome stems from being a local on an elite campus—this is intended to be played for laughs. Her weight bothers her but does not define her. She feels insecure about her boyfriend. She seeks out father figures on campus without meaning to. Her female friendships can be complicated. Secondary (Social) Conflict example: There’s a scene in the weight room where Kim steps into her power in a way that physically intimidates a smaller woman, whom Kim refers to as a “twig”: Tabby, who is overly verbose and has anorexic tendencies that are condemned without moralizing. Tertiary (Inner) Conflict example: Kim receives an email from her boyfriend with an attachment: a photo he surreptitiously took of her during their tortured round of disc golf on campus. In it, she looks warriorlike and strong, providing a new way of thinking about herself. She compares this photo to one of her boyfriend that appeared in the campus newspaper, noting how they bookend and even complement each other. VII. Setting Many people romanticize college because it was the last time they lived in a walkable community. This tendency to perambulate thoroughly powers the plot and has been integral to the story from the beginning. The reader first meets the narrator as she walks around campus on the last day of finals. The small liberal arts campus is based on every campus in central Texas, most heavily influenced by the burned-out shell of a 19th century college. Elements of all these schools, including geography and history, create a conglomerate fictional campus that feels real. The on-campus housing complex, known as the Triangle, is central to the story; sharp-eyed readers will see the campus map takes a familiar shape, but this is never explicitly spelled out. The school is named Zephyr—the campus mythology is purposefully vague, but Zephyr is also the name of a real-life tiny town just to the west of the fictional campus. The land used to be a plantation, which is factual for the history of the area and the problematic nature of many college campuses—stolen land cultivated by slave labor. The fact that Kim’s mother is a landscaper is potent, as native plants begin to take root on campuses that rely on green grass to court football donors and golfers. This background information seeps in through Kim’s work-study job as a campus tour guide. Conflict happens on boundary lines, and Zephyr has them all: country lanes, cemeteries, a small cliff, a river, a highway, and the gentle slope down into town. The town-gown divide is a rich seam, and Kim mines both sides of this (as do a few other characters, we will learn). The story also has literal cinema: a fictional movie was filmed in the fictional town in the 90s. Every college town has a similar claim to fame, and the Zephyr film contains echoes of all the familiar movies. -
This post cannot be displayed because it is in a password protected forum. Enter Password
-
-
0
Whatcha Reading? November 2022, Part Two
We’re wrapping up November, which means part two of Whatcha Reading for the month! Have you been doing any reading to escape holiday socializing? Or still too full from Thanksgiving leftovers to even think about reading? Shana: I’ve been having a tough time reading lately. But I did start the audiobook of A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske. I love it so far. Sneezy: I’m flying through To Melt Your Frozen Heart I’d been meaning to read this for a long time!!! Lots of delicious gender reversal that I think makes for a stronger story. There’s a twee golden retriever of a man, and a buff, remote wolf of a woman. Seriously, she’s a good head taller than him and is known as The Wolf of the Battlefield. And the art is to DIE for!!!!! A | BN | KSarah: I am awaiting my library hold for the audio book of Evil in Emerald. I am NEXT IN LINE. Amanda: I’m doing something wild and rereading. I’m not caught up on A Court of Thorns and Roses, ( A | BN | K | G | AB ) so I’m starting from the beginning again. Sarah: First of all Whoa! That’s rare! Second…see you in a few years then. Elyse: Right now I’m reading The Stand-Up Groomsman by Jackie Lau. ( A | BN | K | AB ) Tara: When I’m not feeding or sacrificing my cult members playing Cult of the Lamb, I’m reading Season of Love by Helena Greer. ( A | BN | K | AB ) Sarah told me it’s excellent and she wasn’t kidding! What are you reading? Tell us below! View the full article -
0
Podcast 538, Your Transcript Has Arrived
The transcript for Podcast 538. Jane Austen, Anthropologist, with Nikki Payne has been posted! This podcast transcript was handcrafted with meticulous skill by Garlic Knitter. Many thanks. ❤ Click here to subscribe to The Podcast → View the full article -
This post cannot be displayed because it is in a password protected forum. Enter Password
-
0
Some Great Deals Today!
As a reminder, we will not be featuring any HarperCollins titles until a fair contract is negotiated with the HarperCollins Union. Additionally, today is Black Friday, so if you see any great deals and discounts, let us know! Wolf Gone Wild Wolf Gone Wild by Juliette Cross is $1.49! This was mentioned on a previous Hide Your Wallet and I’ve personally enjoyed Cross’ fantasy and paranormal romances previously. This has a witch and a werewolf pairing and sounds a lot like me catnip. What’s the worst thing that can happen to a werewolf? Unable to shift for three months, Mateo Cruz knows all too well. His wolf has taken up residence in his head, taunting him night and day with vividly violent and carnal thoughts. Convinced he’s cursed, he needs the help of a powerful witch before he literally goes insane. Evie Savoie has always obeyed the house rules of her coven–no werewolves. They’re known for being moody and volatile. So, when a distempered, dangerous werewolf strolls into the bar and almost strangles one of her late-night customers, she’s ready to bounce him through the door. But the desperation in his eyes when he begs her to help him softens her heart and convinces her to bend the rules. What Evie doesn’t know is that Mateo’s wolf has a mind of his own. And now that she’s in his sights, he wants only one thing. Her. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Part of Your World RECOMMENDED: Part of Your World by Abby Jimenez is $2.99! This one came out in April and I really loved it. It was tender and sweet and funny. I also ranted about the “villain” on an episode of the podcast. I would have loved to have seen him get tossed into a wood chipper at the end. The New York Times bestselling author of Life’s Too Short delivers a refreshingly modern fairy tale perfect for fans of Casey McQuiston and Emily Henry. After a wild bet, gourmet grilled-cheese sandwich, and cuddle with a baby goat, Alexis Montgomery has had her world turned upside down. The cause: Daniel Grant, a ridiculously hot carpenter who’s ten years younger than her and as casual as they come—the complete opposite of sophisticated city-girl Alexis. And yet their chemistry is undeniable. While her ultra-wealthy parents want her to carry on the family legacy of world-renowned surgeons, Alexis doesn’t need glory or fame. She’s fine with being a “mere” ER doctor. And every minute she spends with Daniel and the tight-knit town where he lives, she’s discovering just what’s really important. Yet letting their relationship become anything more than a short-term fling would mean turning her back on her family and giving up the opportunity to help thousands of people. Bringing Daniel into her world is impossible, and yet she can’t just give up the joy she’s found with him either. With so many differences between them, how can Alexis possibly choose between her world and his? Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Under the Whispering Door Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune is $3.99! At the store, this was my friend Tildy’s best of 2021 book. What’d you think of this one, especially compared to Cerulean Sea? When a reaper comes to collect Wallace Price from his own funeral, Wallace suspects he really might be dead. Instead of leading him directly to the afterlife, the reaper takes him to a small village. On the outskirts, off the path through the woods, tucked between mountains, is a particular tea shop, run by a man named Hugo. Hugo is the tea shop’s owner to locals and the ferryman to souls who need to cross over. But Wallace isn’t ready to abandon the life he barely lived. With Hugo’s help he finally starts to learn about all the things he missed in life. When the Manager, a curious and powerful being, arrives at the tea shop and gives Wallace one week to cross over, Wallace sets about living a lifetime in seven days. Under the Whispering Door is a contemporary fantasy about a ghost who refuses to cross over and the ferryman he falls in love with. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. The Marriage Game The Marriage Game by Sara Desai is $1.99! This is book one in The Marriage Game series and I’m loving all of the cover designs. Catherine and Sneezy did a join review of this one and landed on a C grade. A high stakes wager pits an aspiring entrepreneur against a ruthless CEO in this sexy romantic comedy. After her life falls apart, recruitment consultant Layla Patel returns home to her family in San Francisco. But in the eyes of her father, who runs a Michelin starred restaurant, she can do no wrong. He would do anything to see her smile again. With the best intentions in mind, he offers her the office upstairs to start her new business and creates a profile on an online dating site to find her a man. She doesn’t know he’s arranged a series of blind dates until the first one comes knocking on her door… As CEO of a corporate downsizing company Sam Mehta is more used to conflict than calm. In search of a quiet new office, he finds the perfect space above a cozy Indian restaurant that smells like home. But when communication goes awry, he’s forced to share his space with the owner’s beautiful yet infuriating daughter Layla, her crazy family, and a parade of hopeful suitors, all of whom threaten to disrupt his carefully ordered life. As they face off in close quarters, the sarcasm and sparks fly. But when the battle for the office becomes a battle of the heart, Sam and Layla have to decide if this is love or just a game. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. View the full article -
0
Shopping Diary
Camille à la ville paper dolls. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under CCO 2.0. September 14 I am in my mobile mall, which is my phone’s WiFi hotspot on the NJ Transit. Paynter Jacket Co. is this British couple, Becky and Huw, who make chore jackets in micro-batches. When you purchase a jacket, you also buy its journey, from sourcing the cloth to cutting the pattern to meeting with Sergio, who serges the jackets together in Portugal. I already have their perfect chore jacket from a micro-micro-batch, a Japanese tiger-print patchwork. The latest is a Carpenter Jacket, so, not a chore jacket at all. So different! I dither between Elizabeth and Linden about the wash – “vintage” as though I’ve owned it for generations versus “dark rich,” stiff and authentic. 195 pounds sterling plus 30 pounds sterling for shipping is GBP 225, USD 260 and change, says the internet’s calculator. It will arrive in November so I get to have it twice, now in anticipation, and when it arrives. At Princeton Junction, I get on the Dinky to Princeton University ($3 one-way). I go directly to Wawa to get a coffee (free, all September, for “teachers”). September 17 I get a refund from Tracksmith and buy more running clothes for the exact amount of the return, zero ouroboros dollars. September 19 I hopscotch from Canvas to Interfolio to Proenza Schouler archives. I add to cart Leather Overalls in Brown Rust from the Proenza Schouler Archive Sale. They wither in the cart. September 21 I fill my spice cupboard from the Diaspora Co. Spice Sale. An aspirational purchase: Adrianne [sic] who works at the sweetgreen near me has my custom bowl order memorized. September 23 Bought myself a hotel room in Princeton (Expedia, $104 + tax + $50 hold on my credit card, which will go away), for a night during student conference hell week. Even though I haven’t actually lived there for several years, Princeton still thinks it’s “Home” on my Apple Maps. 12.5 mi run, bought new audiobooks – Kate Atkinson x 2, Mating, Less ($36 total, including 1 Audible credit). Back in New York, I make myself a double vax appointment (free) for the Omicron booster and the flu, take a short subway ($2.75) to the Wall Street Walgreens. Le Labo Wall St., I clock it en route to the vax, and double-back to spritz myself in free samples of Tabac 28 scent ($375 plus tax for 100 ml), which makes me smell exactly like I’ve been secondhand smoking. September 25 I window shop online and IRL: the flannel shirtdress ADRIAN by G.Label by Gwyneth Paltrow ($525 exclusive on Goop); the vintage Comme des Garcons x Dr Martens collab loafers ADRIEN ($295 on The RealReal); the Acne Studios bag named ADRIENNE ($1450, previous season, sold out). I buy only one namesake: YO ADRIAN. September 30 In Soho I accompany myself into R13 to try on tartan jeans I don’t want ($595) and fall in love with $1k overalls I really don’t need. They puddle at my feet like a ballgown, and I leave them on the floor as though I’d disapparated. October 1 I buy gum on Amazon ($44.99, but the price fluctuates, depending on how many times I open the window). I also pre-order Annie Ernaux’s Getting Lost, because this offsets my gum purchase to myself, like carbon offsets. Of course I shouldn’t be buying books on Amazon at all, but I believe in local bookstores too, I do I do I do. I get so wet in the rain that I spend half the run contemplating the warm clothes I’ll buy on my way home – I reroute my run to up the West Side Highway and through Central Park so I can stop in lululemon, but by the time I get there it’s stopped raining, so I just go to the subway and go home and shower and tutor to make money to spend again. October 2 Raining. I hate using DoorDash, use it so rarely that I have to login every time, but tonight, if I want a salad after yoga ($121 per month, unlimited membership) because of this continuous Sunday night tutoring, and the DoorDash adds nearly the cost of the salad in surcharge. It is my father’s birthday and I’ve bought him nothing. October 3 Because of the tutoring, because it is a Teaching Monday after a Friday payday, because I am delirious after three solid hours of two different seminars of two dozen sulky first-years, I buy sneakers I unnecessarily tried on and coveted last week. Cycle of unnecessary shopping becoming rationalized into necessary purchase. I want a uniform. Everything I buy will be the last thing. My mom texts me an article about uniform shopping, “what if you buy yourself a uniform, a capsule closet,” she suggests. But what if I have claustrophobia. October 6 Annie Ernaux has won the Nobel! Somehow I had pre-ordered two copies of Getting Lost while ordering gum, so now I feel smug because they’re going to be sold out. Also bought Chris’s book at his reading, gave him mine, and because I have had to buy more of my own books to replenish my supply, I have lost money twice. October 7 It is my book launch so to prepare I go to the running store, stare at a wall of Honey Stingers ($1.50/waffle) and Nuun Hydration Tabs ($7/tube). I buy the pair of Saucony Endorphin 3 Pro ($225/pair) that I need for racing. October 9 I don’t buy the “very best turtleneck for women,” even though it is on sale for friends and family this weekend only. October 15 We need a microphone for a book party event and it is my job. At the Guitar Center underground in the infinity mall that is also the Barclays Center, I make friends with Andrei, who is doing a balletic juggling of customers, a DJ mix, he is dealing with easily six customers in the store and two on the phone, his booming voice, he is caring for each of us and remembers exactly what we are looking for, he is the maestro of the guitar center. I wait for 30 min and then 45. As I am just about to rent the mic for $15 I ask offhand if it hooks to Sonos, which I know the space has, but Andrei does not know. He sends me upstairs and somehow across the street to Best Buy, where they do not know what I am talking about, they’ve never heard of Sonos, and they’re not having this conversation. When I return, the floor is empty, Andrei is gone; where is Andrei. But in three minutes flat Other Andrei hooks me up. He sells me a $99 plus tax mic and speaker that I can return the next day, he assures me, minus a 15% restocking fee, so it’s like renting the $15 mic after all. You’ve saved my life! Everyone at the event says I should keep the mic. I can keep it in my car, I think, and automatically convert my trunk into my electronics closet. But the next day, I haul it back ($85 returned to my credit card). October 18 I am in Charlottesville, Virginia, where my friend cannot come to the book talk, because she has just had a needle inserted into her vagina. I walk for two hours on an increasingly slowing aching leg and see a camera shop, where cameras stare back at me from the window. I’ve wanted a camera since high school. I held the heft ($270, refurbished by hand). It’s a great price, I tell myself. I will be Cam Jansen. October 24 EZ-Pass zaps me, automatic refill ($185) October 28 Spending this week shopping for pain solutions. Two weeks out from the marathon, of course having weird taper shin pain, and because it’s concentrating on one side, not two, I’m fully allowing myself to luxuriate in the drama of freaking out. I’ve been told “pain on both sides is good, pain on one side is a problem.” Four legs good, two legs bad, what’s one leg? Physical therapy for the stress tension mounting in my shin, but that probably broils from my hip, certainly from my stress. Runner friends recommend Finish Line Physical Therapy, which has dogs and Normatec compression sleeves; and Custom Performance, which gives me a free T-shirt and also has Normatec, plus anti-gravity treadmills and a cold plunge you can use the week of your appointment, all week, just go into midtown and take off all your clothes. I buy Icy Hot Max Strength Pain Relief Cream with Lidocaine Plus Menthol, 2.7 Ounces ($8.69), T-Relief ($9.99), KT tape ($14.69), Advil Dual Action Caplets – With Acetaminophen + Ibuprofen ($10.19). October 29 Perfect sweater on the LES, white elbow patches and thumbholes and natural wool, I don’t try to fight it ($350 but it’s handmade in Japan, undyed, all-natural, no-waste). I meet my friend Lindsay at an art gallery (free), for the last day of the Peter Sacks show— Peter was our professor, and a polymath, a professional swimmer and a poet and a critic and now, primarily, an artist. He takes scraps of fabric from everywhere — gingham, lace, quilts, a corner of a five-dollar bill — and layers them together on the canvas to create a palimpsest that repurposes everything into new shapes, ships. Lindsay and I have a little natural wine crawl, Moon Glow, Buvette. A lanky blond walks by in a sweater I recognize from the Internet, the Warm & Wonderful red sheep sweater that is the iconic Princess Diana sweater, I think, oh wow, they actually bought the Diana sweater, which is when I realize it’s a blond Diana wig, and it’s a perfect Diana costume. October 30 I don’t buy or make a Halloween costume but I do “add to cart” the flagship yellow raincoat from Stutterheim Raincoats, “Swedish Melancholy at its Finest,” that never goes on sale except today only, code YELLOWEEN ($427 on sale, handcrafted and quality controlled). It is raining, and it is going to rain. November 1 I order the kneepack the orthopaedic surgeon tells me to ($18). I refill on KN-95 face masks ($18.75 plus shipping for a 7-pack in pink). November 2 Refill Pure Barre class pack ($240 for ten). Refill Wawa coffee ($1.91) plus hazelnut nondairy creamer (free). I stare at a sheer shirt ($426, converted from AUD) while I tutor late at night, which costs exactly as much money as I make. My parents have ordered a dumpster’s worth of fake Lego-like bricks, or “Lego-Compatible Brick Sets” (I have no idea how much they cost, and don’t want to ask). They’ve published this series of books, “Learning Math Using Lego Bricks,” and the dream is to get officially sponsored by Lego but until then, they have to find faux-Legaux, first from Ohio, then from China, then I think from Ohio again? It’s better not to know what my parents are building in the basement with thousands of tiny pimply plastic molds. I find my father a Seinfeld Lego set and purchase it for him for his birthday, exactly a month late. My friend Chris is living in James Merrill’s apartment for the month on residency, and he takes me on a midnight video tour. He has found a horrifically perfect board game called SYNTACTICS in 8-point Helvetica font. It’s a Ouija-Scrabble-Scattergories Turducken of a game (sample answer: The duck didn’t swim because it was chicken). I deep-dive it on ebay and Etsy and it’s not even much of a dive, just a light skim, it’s not even more than thirty dollars. I keep diving to a vintage 1970 board game, The $ale of the ¢entury, the inevitable decline and fall of the 1890s Game of Playing Department Store. I need them all. November 3 The good news is I don’t have a stress fracture, so I pick up my marathon bib and free shirt, and buy a jacket, and socks, and a present for my baby niece, the carbon emissions offset purchase of the jacket and socks. I buy a green juice which costs $10 and I have a $10 bill, and buying things in cash these days makes me feel like I’m getting it for free. November 4 I buy a ton of new eye makeup ($75, but that includes the brushes) because I haven’t purchased eye makeup since 2018. November 5 I treat myself to pre-race neuroses: pre-dawn sweatpants and sweatshirt I’ll ditch to Goodwill in Athletes’ Village ($28), thermos ($14.95), analog alarm clock ($10), Tylenol Extra Strength gel caps ($8), Teddy Bear Super-Crunchy peanut butter ($5.99), Ezekiel 4:9 Food For Life Sprouted Flax Bread ($7.99 on sale) (is it stale if on sale) (does frozen bread grow mold). November 6 I celebrate myself by bribing myself. I tell myself during the marathon I will get this necklace I’ve been staring at, a Tracksmith Gold Eliot Chain ($600). It’s scary hot for November, because the planet is too hot. I do make it through, by chugging through gallons of water and Gatporade (free, at the sponsored water stations), and I chug the “flow”-brand liter of water (free, in my swag bag), and yet I do not pee for days. Adrienne Raphel is the author of Thinking Inside the Box: Adventures with Crosswords and the Puzzling People Who Can’t Live Without Them. Her latest collection of poetry, Our Dark Academia, was published by Rescue Press. View the full article -
0
Peter Straub (1943-2022)
Peter Straub (1943-2022) The Fantasy Hive was saddened to hear of the passing of Peter Straub. Straub was one of the key voices in horror fiction in the latter half of the 20th century, beloved by both fans and critics, with his work winning numerous awards including the Bram Stoker and World Fantasy Awards. Straub was born in the US and started writing supernatural fiction with Julia (1975), but it was Ghost Story (1979) that established him as one of the modern masters of the horror novel. Rich and complex, the novel spans multiple viewpoints and nested stories, weaving them all together into a terrifying and vivid whole. The novel was a massive commercial success as well as a critical hit. It was followed by Shadowland (1980), a masterful dark fantasy novel about a mysterious realm where reality and illusion collide. The novel was nominated for the World Fantasy Award. Straub wrote The Talisman (1984) in collaboration with his friend and legendary horror writer Stephen King, and the two of them would collaborate on a sequel Black House (2001). The Blue Rose Trilogy, beginning with Koko (1988), demonstrated that Straub could be just as frightening writing about non-supernatural matters like the Vietnam War. As well as being a proficient novelist, Straub was also a master of the horror short story, as evidenced by the wealth of wonderful material contained in the collection Interior Darkness (2016). Although not as well known as his famous novels, short material like ‘Pork Pie Hat’, ‘Mr. Clubb and Mr. Cuff’, and ‘A Short Guide to the City’ demonstrate Straub’s facility with language, his sharp characterisation and his ability to play and experiment with form in ways that enhance the power of his stories. They clearly show that Straub’s literary handling of language, character and form would have made him a great writer in whatever genre he chose to write in. The Fantasy Hive’s thoughts are with his family and friends at this difficult time. The post Peter Straub (1943-2022) appeared first on The Fantasy Hive. View the full article -
0
538. Jane Austen, Anthropologist, with Nikki Payne
A | BN | K | AB My guest today is Nikki Payne, debut author of Pride and Protest, a contemporary retelling of Pride and Prejudice, set in DC between an activist DJ and a CEO developer. Nikki is also a tech anthropologist, so this conversation hits on some major current events like what’s happening at Twitter, and how Jane Austen was an anthropologist (and shade queen) as well. … Connect with your partner every day using Paired. Download the app at https://www.paired.com/SARAH Music: purple-planet.com Listen to the podcast → Read the transcript → Here are the books we discuss in this podcast: You can find Nikki Payne at her website, Nikki Payne Books.com. She’s on Twitter @NikkiPayneBooks, Instagram @NikkiPayneBooks, and TikTok @NikkiPayneWrites, too. We also mentioned: The Phenomenal Book Club Love is Blind Maintenance Phase FBoy Island If you like the podcast, you can subscribe to our feed, or find us at iTunes. You can also find us on Stitcher, and Spotify, too. We also have a cool page for the podcast on iTunes. More ways to sponsor: Sponsor us through Patreon! (What is Patreon?) http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/WP/wp-content/themes/smartbitches/images/podcast/patreon.png What did you think of today's episode? Got ideas? Suggestions? You can talk to us on the blog entries for the podcast or talk to us on Facebook if that's where you hang out online. You can email us at sbjpodcast@gmail.com or you can call and leave us a message at our Google voice number: 201-371-3272. Please don't forget to give us a name and where you're calling from so we can work your message into an upcoming podcast. Thanks for listening! Remember to subscribe to our podcast feed, find us on iTunes or on Stitcher. View the full article -
0
No Kings. Mo Masters. No Demons. Opening Scene
Opening portion of the opening scene -- meant to establish the tone, setting (both physical, magical, and social), and protagonist The problem with rumor, Arren thought from the shadow of the alley, was not that it lied. The problem with rumor was that it sometimes told the truth. Arren knew she should be out looking for sure scores, not watching a man across the muddy street, armed with a cheap sword and flintlock, try not to fall asleep. She’d not made a decent score in weeks, and her coin was almost gone. But if rumor was telling the truth, a very rich merchant had just done something very stupid with a very large amount of his coin. If she was ever going to get out of the Wreck, she needed to take chances. And there was a guard in front of what had been an empty building just a week ago. The building was like most in the Wreck -- somewhere between about to have fallen down and already falling down. You wouldn’t put an armed guard in front of that unless you had something in it worth guarding. That was just logic. So maybe rumor, this time, was telling the truth …. She bit her lip, then decided. Arren closed her eyes and prepared to taste for magic. Then, very gently, in case the guard had wards, she pushed her senses across the muddy street. Tasting for magic was uncommon but not unheard of, so she had to be careful. But there was no taste of apples that would indicate wards. Just the slightly bitter taste of the protection magic common to all guards, thugs, merchants, and other people of violence. Arren nodded and pushed into the building. Sweat beaded onto her forehead, dampening her dark curls. Tasting took effort, and she began to sway on her feet as she pushed her senses through the first floor and up the second. No bitterness. No nut flavors, so no protective magic for a guard dog. No apples, so no magic-tasting wards inside. And, most importantly, no gagging, nauseating rotten meat taste of demons. But … yes. There, in the back on the second floor. A slight taste of sweetmeat, partially burnt: lock picking prevention charms. Arren smiled, reassured by the slightly burnt taste of the magic. Poorly done magic tasted burnt or raw. The merchant had hired someone cockier than good. Arren's eyes popped open, and she shook her head in amazement. Rumor was telling the truth! Some merchant, terrified that he would lose his coin the next time the powers that be sent a demon after the strikers and Sisters of the Poor marching in the streets for better pay and treatment, had moved his coin to the Wreck. The most violent, lawless part of the city of Luxton. It was as if he'd tied lead weights to all his chickens and then moved the chicken coop to the den of the largest, meanest group of foxes he could find. How did someone so dumb ever make any coin to guard in the first place? Must've been born to it. Now, if that guard would just fall asleep … But he remained stubbornly only half-asleep. He waved his arms. He walked back in front of the door. His chin fell to his chest, then jerked upward. Arren gave serious thought to signing him a lullaby. She clicked her teeth and looked at the roof. Well, who says you have to climb up? It would be incredibly stupid, but then, so had every other decision that had put her here this night. What was one more? Five minutes later, she stared at a much less forgiving brick wall. The building with her coin in it was connected to this one via three others. All she had to do was get to the top of it and walk across their connected roofs. But this building was not so tumbled down — it was owned by Jerr-lin the Ugly. He stored various goods there between the smuggling and the selling. It wouldn't do to have the roof crashing down on valuable property, so he spent coin to make sure that didn't happen. There were no obvious guards tonight, as she’d hoped. The early fall storms generally kept even the smugglers’ ships off the lake this time of year, so there wouldn’t be anything to store for a few more weeks. But no building in the Wreck was completely solid, and she found handholds enough. Halfway up, though, she slipped, one foot falling out of its place. She scrabbled to re-plant it, the scraping sound of her boots echoing through the city and her head. Then, just as she regained her footing, a shutter to her left popped open, and a bald head shot out, gleaming in the moonlight. It jerked to and fro like a children's puppet controlled by a drunken hand. "Who’s there? Who’s there?” Arren clung to the wall, flattening herself to it, joints screaming in pain. Finally, after an eternity and a minute or two, the head pulled back into the window and the shutter slammed shut. Arren steadied her breath until she could no longer feel her heart beating, then finished her climb. In ten more minutes, she was peering over the edge of the roof of the building that held her loot. At its bottom, the guard was sleeping. The thrice-damned demon fucker had gone and gotten a chair and was happily snoring away in it. Arren clenched one of her knives, then shook her head. She patted her burglar's lantern, making sure it was tight against her thigh, then eased herself over the ledge. After a moment, she could reach the shutter with her foot. Tentatively, she tried to peel it away from its home. Somewhat surprisingly, it swung open. She reached out with her other foot, and the shutter’s twin also opened. A moment later, she had shimmied down low enough to safely swing into the building. She dropped through the window with a faint, hollow thud, landing in a crouch. Arren held her breath and waited. Quiet. She slowly breathed out, then tasted for magic, using the burnt sweetmeat taste to guide her slowly to the safe. She picked her way quietly inside, relying on the growing intensity of the taste to move her through the dark building. Once she could feel the safe, she carefully placed the burglar's lantern beside her and opened it slightly. The lantern was designed to give off a dim, narrow beam of light, very difficult to see unless you were standing right in front of it. It was the most useful thing she had ever stolen. She adjusted it slightly so that the light shone on the safe’s combination lock. Arren smiled. This was going to be easy. Arren gently turned the dial in one direction until the taste of sweetmeats faded, leaving only the absence of taste, an emptiness not entirely unlike hunger. Then she turned to dial in the other direction and back again, finding the spot in each direction where the magic disappeared. The safe door creaked, so Arren wrenched it open in one go, then listened. Absolute quiet. No lantern light, no voices, no nightmare dog claws skittering out of the dark. She reached in, feeling for the safe's contents. Noting. No coins, no boxes, no jewels. Not even a note mocking her for trying to rob an empty safe, not that she could read. Arren swore and strapped the lantern back to her thigh. She took a breath to calm herself and closed the safe’s door slowly, trying to not let her anger and disappointment cause a mistake. The thief paused, listening. Nothing. Relieved and anxious to be out of the lie, she turned to work her out of the room. The floor creaked. Yovah’s burnt dick! -
0
Today’s Kindle Daily Deals!
As a reminder, we will not be featuring any HarperCollins titles until a fair contract is negotiated with the HarperCollins Union. The Hookup Plan The Hookup Plan by Farrah Rochon is $2.99! This is Rochon’s latest release in The Boyfriend Project series. It was also mentioned on a previous Hide Your Wallet. Strong female friendships and a snappy enemies-to-lovers theme take center stage in this highly anticipated romantic comedy from the USA Today bestselling author of The Dating Playbook. Successful pediatric surgeon London Kelley just needs to find some balance and de-stress. According to her friends Samiah and Taylor, what London really needs is a casual hookup. A night of fun with no strings. But no one—least of all London—expected it to go down at her high school reunion with Drew Sullivan, millionaire, owner of delicious abs, and oh yes, her archnemesis. Now London is certain the road to hell is paved with good sex. Because she’s found out the real reason Drew’s back in Austin: to decide whether her beloved hospital remains open. Worse, Drew is doing everything he can to show her that he’s a decent guy who actually cares. But London’s not falling for it. Because while sleeping with the enemy is one thing, falling for him is definitely not part of the plan. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Paris Daillencourt Is About to Crumble Paris Daillencourt Is About to Crumble by Alexis Hall is $2.99! This is book two in the Winner Bakes All series and came out earlier this month. I was a little disappointed by this one. Did you read it? What are your thoughts? From the bestselling author of Boyfriend Material comes a sweet and scrumptious romantic comedy about facing your insecurities, finding love, and baking it off, no matter what people say. Paris Daillencourt is a recipe for disaster. Despite his passion for baking, his cat, and his classics degree, constant self-doubt and second-guessing have left him a curdled, directionless mess. So when his roommate enters him in Bake Expectations, the nation’s favourite baking show, Paris is sure he’ll be the first one sent home. But not only does he win week one’s challenge—he meets fellow contestant Tariq Hassan. Sure, he’s the competition, but he’s also cute and kind, with more confidence than Paris could ever hope to have. Still, neither his growing romance with Tariq nor his own impressive bakes can keep Paris’s fear of failure from spoiling his happiness. And when the show’s vicious fanbase confirms his worst anxieties, Paris’s confidence is torn apart quicker than tear-and-share bread. But if Paris can find the strength to face his past, his future, and the chorus of hecklers that live in his brain, he’ll realize it’s the sweet things in life that he really deserves. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Witchful Thinking Witchful Thinking by Celestine Martin is $2.99! I believe this is Martin’s debut romance with some light, witchy vibes. This was mentioned on a previous witch-themed Hide Your Wallet. Love is the trickiest spell of all. Lucinda Caraway loves living in Freya Grove, the mystic seaside town where charms, hexes, and magical beings of all kinds are the norm. She spends her days teaching high school history and her nights reading tea leaves and tending to her conjure garden. It’s a good life . . . but she can’t stop wishing for more. Until one night, that wish turns into a spell, and suddenly Lucy can’t say no. Not to a public karaoke performance. Not to running a 10K. And, most alarmingly, not to her high school crush, Alexander Dwyer, who needs her help unjinxing his new house—which just happens to be right across the street from hers. Alex has spent the last ten years traveling the world on adventures Lucy has only ever dreamed of, and he’s planning to leave again as soon as his house is safe to sell. But until Lucy can unhex herself, she and Alex are stuck together. And with so much magic in the air, maybe the next spell Lucy casts will be the one that convinces him to stay. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Desperate Measures Desperate Measures by Katee Robert is $1.49! This is book one in the Wicked Villains series, which are erotic retellings of popular Disney/fairy tale villains. Maya recently highly recommended this one in recent Rec League, but be warned that the content of the Rec League may spoil the ending to the book. My Savior… Or My Ruin? One night, and my entire life went up in flames. All because of him. Jafar. As my world burned down around me, he offered me a choice. Walk away with nothing but my freedom… Or rise to his challenge and win my fortune back. I bargained. I lost. Now Jafar owns me, and even as my mind rails against his rules, my body loves the punishments he deals out when I break them. But a gilded cage is still a prison, I’ll do anything to obtain my freedom. Even betray the man I’m falling for. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. View the full article -
0
Dragons vs Spaceships, Who’d Win In A Fight? GUEST POST by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Dragons vs Spaceships, Who’d Win In A Fight? by Adrian Tchaikovsky I am, of course, a fantasy fiction writer. Spaceships? Me? Perish the thought. In fact, my first fantasy book in a while is out this year – City of Last Chances drops at the start of December and I’ve relished the chance to get back into that mode. But, for those who’ve been on the wild train I’ve been riding since 2007, I hit the shelves with a 10(!) book series, Shadows of the Apt, recently re-covered and reprinted, along with audio from the talented Ben Allen. But that was riding the wave of readers who’d come to me for Children of Time, a book notably concerned with spaceships, albeit covered in spiders. (I’m assuming that, as a familiar of Fantasy Hive, you’re at least engaged in the discussion of fantasy and science-fiction and whether any of it means anything. A subject we constantly kick about with the same laser focus as quantum physicists arguing about the existence of fundamental particles.) So, dragons vs spaceships, who’d win in a fight? And the answer is that if the dragons are sharp enough they build their own dragon-scale spaceships and then you’re in a whole other sub-corner of the sub-sub-genre… This is the point about genre divides. Like the particles, even though they absolutely matter, they simultaneously do and don’t exist. Binary systems are generally bunk, and even a dragon/spaceship continuum doesn’t do the job. What there is, however, is a kind of topographical landscape. An ideas morphospace, where every possible idea involving those dragons and spaceships and all the rest can possibly exist. A political map of a thousand little polities, each with its own traditions and each with infinitely permeable borders so that, from out in the countryside, it’s just about impossible to know whose laws you’re supposed to be following. And that is the joy of it, for me. That is the Why in why I do what I do. Because, despite being a profoundly reluctant traveller in the actual world, given that morphospacic landscape, I will goddamn ramble where I want. Which means I can end up with something like Elder Race, which is simultaneously a hard SF book and an epic fantasy narrative. I can write Ogres and The Expert System’s Brother where the trappings of a fantasy narrative are stretched over a SFnal skeleton. And I can delve into the mythic landscape in Children of Memory, where a struggling exoplanetary colony is haunted by the ancient stories of the world its ancestors came from, old gods and fairy tale entities that just won’t quit the human imagination, and that grow to fill the curious spaces that the new world presents. Adrian Tchaikovsky was born in Lincolnshire before heading off to Reading to study psychology and zoology. For reasons unclear even to himself he subsequently ended up in law and has worked as a legal executive in both Reading and Leeds. He’s the author of the critically acclaimed Shadows of the Apt series, the Echoes of the Fall trilogy, The Doors of Eden, and the Final Architecture series. Children of Time was the winner of the 30th Anniversary Arthur C. Clarke Award for Best Science Fiction Novel. Children of Memory the third instalment in the series is out NOW The post Dragons vs Spaceships, Who’d Win In A Fight? GUEST POST by Adrian Tchaikovsky appeared first on The Fantasy Hive. View the full article -
0
Happy Thanksgiving!
[url={url}]View the full article[/url] -
-
