Let's talk briefly about titles. Evie Wyld has the most wonderful knack for titles. I bought this book, and her debut (After the Fire, A Still Small Voice) on title alone, having no idea what they were about, nor any
I had the great pleasure last night of seeing Tara Moss speak at an event Georgia's school had put on. And I'm having a lot of feelings now, so I hope you like sentences that mean nothing and go on forever.
This is a tidy little story that follows Lily and her friend Eva through a period in the 1930s, when they are living in a house that has essentially become an artists' commune. There is plenty to like about it:
This is a sponsored post for Origin. That is a strange thing to write, not least because I have always said I will not write sponsored posts on this blog (but have no shame in writing them for other blogs).
We each comprise many things: we are people, first, and then perhaps we are people who stand in courtrooms or people who find gum behind chairs or people who carry children on their backs or people who stand in wind
The Ubud Writers' Festival and Women of Letters have combined to create a digital space for people who want to write things to other things. This month's theme is To my childhood, and as I am a Women of Letters stalker