Archive for February 26th, 2014

Bookletter time

February 26, 2014 @ 8:25 pm | Filed under:

My Winter Bookletter is live! If you’re a subscriber, watch your inbox. 🙂 To subscribe to future issues, click here.

This time around, I share a new picture book the littles and I have fallen in love with and a surprisingly entertaining app for sentence diagramming. Plus news about my next Inch & Roly book!

Comments are off

Tags:

“The exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting…is denied to me.”

February 26, 2014 @ 7:59 pm | Filed under:

daffiesalyssum

These posts are going to get very short all of a sudden because Rose and Beanie have departed for a week with my parents. I’ll miss our daily Poetry 180 readings. To make up for it, I made sure to catch today’s Writer’s Almanac entry. “Yard Sale” by George Bilgere. And it seems it’s Christopher Marlowe’s birthday! He was only 29 when he died, can you believe it?

Early morning: Howards End.

After lunch: Howards End Is on the Landing. Standout bits: This quote from Sir Walter Scott:

Also read again, and for the third time at least, Miss Austen’s very finely written novel of Pride and Prejudice. That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements and feelings and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow strain I can do myself like any now going; but the exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting, from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to me.

Oh how I love to hear writers talking about what other writers can pull off that they themselves can’t.

And just a note to myself to look up Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Blue Flower. Hill’s description certainly sells it. Also loved this line Hill quotes from a letter Fitzgerald wrote her, on the delights of being a grandmother:

It is such a joy to have someone who wishes to sit with you on a sofa and listen to a watch tick.

“Only.”

February 26, 2014 @ 3:51 pm | Filed under:

Huck, on the way home from Trader Joe’s, in tones of disappointment: “We only passed eleven scoundrels.”

Comments are off

Tags: