What an absolutely incredible piece of fiction! Click the link below to read the full story.
Official – Subject To Final Review P R O C E E D I N G S (9 :45 a.m.) CHIEF JUSTICE GIBSON: We’ll hear argument f this morning in Case 84-2532, Android Rights Coalition verses The People’s Republic of America. TX-38 ORAL ARGUMENT OF TX-38
This is my second to last read for the MadLibs 2018 reading challenge that I was supposed to finish officially back in June, but whatever, there’s still some time left in the year.
The Book of Speculation tells a story across generations of Simon, the protagonist’s, family. His is a family of circus performers, but more than that, one of “dangerous” women who suffer from undiagnosed mental illness.
When a man named Churchwarry, a book collector, sends Simon a mysterious book that is somehow connected to his family, Simon finds himself obsessed with the discovery that all the women in his family have drowned on the same day. Truly, a mystery as all these women were “mermaids.” They were carnival performers who swam in tanks on display because they could hold their breath for an inordinate amount of time, a talent Simon and his sister have inherited.
When his sister Enola, who works the circuit as a Tarot card reader, comes home frazzled and displaying acute anxiety, and the date of July 24th approaches, Simon becomes desperate to break the curse that already took his mother, and in turn, his father.
The entire time I read this book, I couldn’t help but think of the movie Big Fish. Perhaps it was the cast of circus characters that I found a connection to, but I think it was more than that. It was how much like the protagonist in that movie, Simon tried to stay removed from his family’s history but found himself nearly drowned in it until he stopped resisting.
There’s also the element of magical realism that felt like the two stories were connected. In fact, if this book were ever made into a movie or Netflix series, I could see it having much the same directorial qualities as Big Fish. As the story delves back and forth between past and present, slowly unraveling the twisted web created by generations of lies and secrets, I found myself enthralled and engaged in the mystery of this family, spanning across Vissers, Rhyzkovas, Peabodys, and more.
I think what was also so striking, especially toward the end, is how artifacts and history can have such a strong pull that even generations and various degrees of separation later, certain bloodlines and people can still find their way back to each other. It left me wondering if the curse and magic were real, or if it was all just a matter of chance and coincidence. Although the book falls pretty firmly on the magic side of this thought, it still leaves it just vague enough to let the readers decide for themselves.
Who else has read this book? What are your thoughts and feelings on this story? Let me know in the comments!
What an exquisite piece. Click the link below to read.
By Lorraine Caputo Up & down the river boardwalk along this swollen river people dip lines into the quick current A man fights to bring his back in, long, expensive rod bending — only to emerge debris A large raft of waterlilies swiftly drifts downstream & that woman, thick-armed, thick-bellied, thick feet shod in flip-flops, […]
This is part 2 of a mini series I’m writing for my trip to Ireland in March 2017. See the first post here.
One of the three days spent in Dublin consisted of a day trip to Glendalough, famous for being featured in P.S., I Love You (which yes, we did watch on the bus ride over; delighful movie). It was just such a beautiful, scenic drive through Ireland’s countryside. The views were postcard picture perfect, with drying greens and soft browns surrounding us and calm, black waters in the distance. The cool grey sky added to the cozy atmosphere of a day of 40 degrees Fahrenheit. As we drove into the area, we saw sheep scattered all over the land, their wool (is it wool when it’s still on the sheep and not spun into fabric?) dyed so that farmers knew which were which.
The walk along the path was peaceful and quiet save for our group’s chatter. Nothing spectacular or extraordinary happened that day, except for walking through Ireland’s natural wonders with a bunch of strangers, and I found something beautiful in that simplicity.
We walked for what felt like miles to finish at the lake’s restaurant, where we encountered a pretty bridge over the water. Like I said, postcard picture perfect.
A day is not enough to take in the wonderful feeling of walking the trails of another land. I wish I’d been able to stay just a little longer, to sit at the lake’s edge for an hour or two, breathing in the crisp air with pen and paper in hand as I valiantly struggled to put into words what was right before my eyes. It’s just a lake after all. The land of two lakes in fact. So why is it that I just felt so struck by the calm waters and quiet surrounding trees and brush? Why did I bask in this experience with strangers I’d just met the day before but already felt like we were sharing a moment of creation? I think this is really what I love about traveling. It’s sharing in the mundane with new people and the ordinary becoming incredible.
Stay tuned for part 3/? of the Wanderlust Ireland series. In the meantime, check out more travel posts here. And if you’ve ever been to Ireland, let me know in the comments what you thought. What was your impression of the country?
This poem is absolute fiiiiiiiirrreeeeee!!!! Click the link below to see it!
Because I stood up & threw half-hearted punches at unimpressed bullies for you I got beat down & climbed back up spitting blood & seeing stars for you I struck out, dropped routine fly balls & ran to first base like a girl for you I looked at your skin mags & confused tried to […]
Blue to the front
and green to the back.
Nothing but mountain and sky
for miles above and below.
Sitting in a plastic box, miles
above the surface, life stands
still. It’s just an expanse all around
and nothing else matters.
I don’t feel small or insignificant
or afraid. I just feel a part of it
forever expanding, my lungs
feebly mimicking the experience
in a way the human mind
comprehends. I see the top
where sky meets earth, still
unable to see where one begins
and the other ends. The lines
just bleed and my veins try
to mirror the phenomenon.
But we can’t.
Over a year and a half ago I finally got to visit Ireland, a country I’d been dying to see for as long as I can remember. There’s always been something about the Emerald Isles that called out to me. Maybe it was the myths and folklore. Maybe it was the haunting Celtic music. Maybe it was just the origins of my name. Whatever it may be, I wanted to see it, and so I did.
I went on a 5-day trip through EF College Break (technically 7, but 2 days were travel). We hit the ground running, as we immediately set off to explore Dublin soon after getting off the plane and leaving our luggage at the hotel (we couldn’t check in yet). Our tour guide Fab, who was amazing, helped us get our bearings so that we could wander off solo but still find our way back to our accommodations.
That first day we stuck together, a group of strangers who had just met but needed one another to make sure we didn’t get lost and left behind. Walking the brick alleys and making our way into Temple Bar to warm up with a pint, I soon felt clicking submit on that online trip application was the best decision I’d ever made.
By the next day, we all felt pretty confident in our abilities to navigate this foreign city, and all went our separate ways or in smaller groups. I started out the day with a roommate to explore Dublin Castle, and from there wandered the Irish city on my own, looking for the Writer’s Museum. I got lost along the way a few times, but I felt so sure of myself that I had no problem consulting the map and asking complete strangers which way to go. I definitely wandered into a suspect neighborhood and was quickly told to get out immediately, but no harm came to me.
I finally found the museum and spent a couple of hours there before making my way back to see a popular library as well. Yes, I’m that nerd who goes abroad to look at other countries book spaces. Truthfully though, none of it was about the destinations. Though I had a great time seeing castles, museums, and libraries, I felt more excited by the walking. It was just a city after all, not much different from New York in fact. Dublin also had construction sites blocking the walkways and smelly alleyways.
That’s really my favorite thing about traveling. It’s just walking among the locals, observing the natives of the land, listening to their voices and stories as they walk around me, ignoring my existence. I bask in the normalcy of life when I’m in a completely different country.
During one of my many bouts of getting lost, I realized it was time for lunch and stopped in at the first cafe I found. I didn’t try to act like a local, because I knew how obvious it was that I was American (the accent kind of gives it away). Instead I asked, “What do you recommend?” The woman behind the register named the soup of the day (leek and potato, which I’d never had and thought only existed in Neopets) with brown bread (again, something new to me). It sounded good though, and it was cold outside, so soup wasn’t a bad choice. She served me and I sat down to charge my phone and get Wi-Fi while I ate.
For the record, leek and potato soup is delicious. And with a side of brown bread with Irish butter, absolutely divine. Such simple fare, but so damn good. I took my time with my lunch and happily ate while looking around the restaurant and out the window. Everyone was so normal, and I was enthralled.
I finally started making my way back at the time I figured the sun would be going down. I couldn’t really tell, as it’s always grey in Ireland. But as confident as I was in my newfound ability to travel a foreign country on my own, and as friendly as the people had been thus far, I didn’t want to get stuck on my own at night in the city. When I finally arrived back at the hotel, my feet aching and sore, and my body on the verge of collapse, I consulted my phone to see how much I’d walked that day. Five miles to and five miles from (not including the rerouting that took place from getting lost). So approximately 10 miles total. I’d never walked so much in my life. I was exhausted but it was well worth it.
I’ve decided to break this post up into multiple parts, as I feel I can talk for days about the trip I had over a year ago. Stay tuned for more! In the meantime, have you been to Dublin, Ireland? If so, what was your favorite thing? Let me know in the comments!