Pat Conroy’s novel South of Broad is cast in beautiful, intelligent prose. It’s the kind of writing that rends aspiring writers like me flush with envy. After reading only a few pages, I felt nostalgia for a city (Charleston, SC) I have never even visited. Transported beyond the page, I experienced the setting with visceral clarity (from the smell of magnolias to the briny ocean air) and connected with it more than any other character in the novel. Perhaps the book would have worked better as a travel guild than a piece of fiction.
The movie adaptation of The Hunger Games came off wonderfully.
I loved the novels, especially the first. Suzanne Collins writes well, but her true genius is plotting. The books gripped me with an iron hold from the very first chapter.
The movie drew me in with the same mastery.
Just a few months after we began dating, my husband said to me, “I won’t be able to spend much time with you in the upcoming weeks. It’s March Madness.”
March Madness? I didn’t even know what that was. Should I be concerned that it’s contagious?
Needless to say, the subsequent realization that I ranked below college basketball in his affections stung.
I like to think my standing with him has risen a bit since then
I HATE living in Las Vegas. Out-of-towners picture life here as one long, glamorous night of Strip-induced debauchery. In reality, Las Vegas is a materialistic, soul-sucking, suburban bedsore on the ass of America (trust me, I’m not being dramatic).
It took me a week to get through the first 200 pages of The Marriage Plot. I devoured the last 200 in one day.
Don’t let the title of book fool you. Marriage is only a peripheral topic of this story. Rather, it traces the interwoven lives of the three students as they leave college and tackle the enigma of adulthood.
The book is not a love story, but very much a story about love. It takes a didactic view, presenting a raw yet honest case study of the subject. Some of it I related to—the consuming elation and neediness you feel at the beginning, the hollow I love yous muttered when you don’t know what else to say, the profound comfort and closeness you share when the pretense of love fades.