1. Went to the bookstore yesterday: the local's having its members' sale soon, which requires me to stake out the place and figure out what I want ahead of time, because it'll be too crowded on the day for serious, comfortable browsing. (Set aside the fact that I do not need any more books, have no place to put them, and have not yet read all the ( Read more... )

"Fog on the Tyne" by Lindisfarne. I did actually say this out loud just now, after the first cowbell sounded, so once again we learn that it's a good thing that I live alone. Also, what on earth does this mean: "A crooked coffin maker's just an undertaker who undertakes to be your friend"? I have no idea, but I kind of like it. :) (If that's even ( Read more... )

Which is the reaction I have every time I remember the title of the book I read yesterday, Impossible by Nancy Werlin. Though it is not actually about Cinderella; it's a YA novel based around the ballad "Scarborough Fair ( Read more... )

It's a running joke with a college friend that I am rather morbid. I don't actually think this is true; mostly I'm a comedies girl through and through. I rather think that any morbid tendencies I have are safely confined to watching the way authors use morbid subjects to think about things. Er, and old ballads, and songs by the Decemberists. And ( Read more... )

O I forbid you, maidens a ( Read more... )