Tiah Beautement's Blog, page 94

On Wool

Hugh Howey, Wool - One of the things she loved about having Marnes around was that his thoughts could be so black as to make hers shine gray. - - She slept with a man in her arms for the first time in decades, and woke to a bed familiarly empty, but a heart strangely full. - - We are born, we are shadows, we cast shadows of our own, and then we are gone. - - Killing a man should be harder than waving a length of pipe in their direction. It should take long enough for one's conscience...

On lost stories

What happens to stories when they go missing or remain unrecorded, seemingly lost forever? - Jonathan Amid on Ivan Vladislavic's The Loss Library and Other Unfinished Stories.

On novels

This is why I read novels: so I can escape my own unrelenting monologue. - Carol Shields, Unless

On One Green Bottle

Debrah Anne Nixon, One Green Bottle - When Sean Diby has an affair. . . he's treated as the absolute pits, but when his wife leaves him...well then he's everyone's blue-eyed boy. - - My little children offer me the comfort that they need from me, wanting to heal me when they needed healing. The experts do not take the time to explain to them that not even they can heal me. They dismiss my children as they did me. All of us, victims. - - Just because someone is nasty does not mean they are sick. Some people are...

On time

'Iwish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo. 'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.' - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

On Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim

David Sedaris, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim - Word spread that Mr. Tomkey did not own a television, and you began hearing that while this was all very well and good, it was unfair of him to inflict his beliefs upon others, specifically his innocent wife and children. . . 'Maybe they read,' my mother's friend said. - - On the fifth day of our vacation my mother had a little breakdown. Our presence had disrupted the secret life she led while we were at school, and when she could no longer take it she threw us out....

On stories that need to be told

I’m always amazed by how small independent publishers bring literary works to hungry audiences with a blockbuster budget of passion and dedication, yet no resources for marketing. How can it be that in a country that constantly speaks of ‘stories that need to be told’ these books which are written, printed and published then disappear into the mulch of marginalised consumerism? What agents of mediocrity ignore new talent? Timbila Publishing, which first exposed other notable writers including Myesha Jenkins, Makhosazana Xaba and Vonani Bila, has once again revealed a gem. - Phillippa Yaa de Villiers, Review of A Traumatic Revenge...

On It's a Pleasure

Gordon Rivers had a rather awkward problem. He was stuck on the toilet. He blamed his children, as most parents should. It was they who insisted he replace it. They didn’t like the way his old one flushed. Claimed it was wasting water. So environmentally conscious these days. He wondered if they’d ever considered the environmental impact of tossing out a perfectly adequate toilet? - Tiah Beautement, Read more of It's a Pleasure on Literary Mama Gordon Rivers had a rather awkward problem. He was stuck on the toilet. He blamed his children, as most parents should. It was they...

On family reading

“I remember reading ‘The Carpetbaggers,’ ” Joe said. “I remember feeling that was a very long novel.” Tabitha King, their mother, suddenly sat upright. “That’s a filthy book — I didn’t know he would have asked you to read that. How old were you?” “I don’t know,” Joe said, dodging for his dad. “I was innocent when I started, and I was filthy afterward.” - Stephen King's Family Business, NY Times

On Women's Day

Why should men be allowed to strut under the privilege of their life adventures, wearing them like a breast full of medals, while women went all gray and silent beneath the weight of theirs? - Carol Shields, The Stone Diaries