It's not easy to be born like Mark Haddon's hero, the intelligent, but suffering teenager, Christopher Boone. It's difficult enough to grow up with one parent, that much I know. But to have the condition that Christopher has is equivalent to being a perpetual outsider: You're in constant fear for your life in new situations and new places.
In brief, A Tale of Two Cities is the story of the devoted Lucie Manette and his unfairly imprisoned father, Dr. Manette and their escape from the horrors of Paris to London, before and during the French Revolution. Circumstances make the father and daughter dependent on the kindness and friendship of Manette's banker, Mr. Lorry. But Lucie's beauty binds them to the lives of the secret French aristocrat Charles Darnay and the hopeless and heroic Sydney Carton.
I love this nightmarish comic art. I discovered it from this site while looking for some infographics I need for work. I thought it would make a lovely book cover for Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend. THAT IS, if he wrote Robert Neville’s character as a woman. Now that’s one survival story I’d like to read. A…… Continue reading In which a zombie comic art captures my imagination
There's something more chilling in reading a novel written in epistolary format, especially when the journal entries and newspaper clippings used in the storytelling pertain to strange events and even stranger creatures.
I never liked smoking and drinking so much before this novel. Or listening to classical music while toiling away in desperation. I've chopped garlic myself with Pavane in the background when I'm in one of my gourmet cooking moods, but only Robert Neville has made me rethink the pungent smell of garlic that can stay in my flesh.
If there's one writer who didn't waste words in telling a story, George Orwell is on top of my list.Every noun and verb and adjective that created the Animal Farm told the reader exactly what is happening. And every seemingly small detail has meaning in the chapters succeeding that one can't help but admire Orwell's perfect timing, for lack of a better term, in making his intentions known for each character or for his action.
I have a room of my own. And a slim desk on which sits my computer where I sometimes write. I have a steady income, but every day I have to work for it. An inheritance is nice to have, but I'm not certain, I doubt very much, that I'll come into it someday. But that is alright, I imagine Ms.Woolf telling me while we sit idly in a cafe.