So, Rupert Murdoch pulled the plug on OJ. How will the literary world ever recover? But take heart! Maybe Anna Nicole will scramble to learn the alphabet super-quick and fill the void created by this tragic loss. But speaking of that void, let's hope Nicole Richie doesn't fall into it.
No, no, don't worry about me. I'll be okay.
The holidays are already starting to crunch a good portion of my precious reading time not already taken up with other work-related projects and/or personal vendettas. That translates to not an awful lot of books read over the past week, but I do have at least two to report on:
The Extra Large Medium by Helen Slavin - "Medium" in this case is as in "one who is a liaison between this world and the world of the dead," though the character in question also uses this as a double-entendre meaning he thinks he's perhaps not as slim as he could be. Well, alright, but he's not the main character, so we're not as concerned with him now are we. The main character is a lovely woman with an incredible talent that's a blessing and a curse. She has the ability to speak with the dead, and relay their messages to the living, but it shouldn't surprise you to know that's not all fun and games. After all, we have seen The Sixth Sense, now, haven't we? It's Slavin's style that's exceptional in this book, though the plot has its clever points. She writes in such a flowing, often humorous way it's a pleasure to read.
The Third Miss Symons by F.M. Mayor - If you haven't discovered some of the positively wonderful, and often woefully forgotten, early 20th century female writers of the sort published by Virago and Persephone you're really missing a huge treat. The Third Miss Symons would be case in point. Henrietta Symons is the third daughter in a Victorian family with a bevy of beautiful daughters. The problem is, Henrietta isn't one of them. She's the ugly duckling, with an often ugly personality to boot. She's petty, small-minded and oblivious to the feelings of others. One by one her sisters marry, and Henrietta becomes more and more redundant. Mayor did a brilliant job portraying the superfluous situation of the spinster in Victorian society, as well as the terrible pain of loneliness.
As you'll see, I'm keeping myself busy even without OJ. It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it.
Happy Turkey Day, all.
- Lisa Guidarini/Bluestalking Reader
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