I’ve been on a ‘thriller’ kick recently, because I’ve been needing to keep my brain engaged while I’m nursing my three-month-old. These “next Gone Girl”s seem to be sitting well, because they’re mostly interesting enough that I want to keep reading them even when I’m tired and brain-dead. (When I’m all the way tired, though, I’m doing a Dorothy Sayers reread. That’s a lot of fun, and I know the stories well enough that my brain can gloss over bits and I don’t lose out!) The Widow is one such thriller advertised as the next Gone Girl or The Girl on the Train, supposed to be “an electrifying […]
Four women, innumerable lies, one secret. One morning, three women in London get a text message saying only “I need you” – and all three know at once what to do and where to go. The women were schoolmates and best friends at an out-of-the-way boarding school years before, and their penchant for making a game out of lying to their peers and teachers made them fast friends while isolating them from those around them. Now, a secret in their shared past is threatening to come out. It sounds like this could be the twisty, dark spiritual successor to Gone Girl.
I have a three-month-old son, and one of the ways we often spend our afternoons is with him napping and me playing on the computer. I can knock out a round of Age of Empires II in an hour, and I often put on an audiobook (usually of a book I’ve read before, so I don’t have to pay much attention) and listen throughout my game and for the rest of the afternoon when the little buddy wakes up.
One of the best parts of reading Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad books (and there are many best parts, I’ve gotta say) is that you can dive into any of them and get nearly the full experience and feeling even if you haven’t read all of them.
I’m a gym nerd, as we affectionately refer to ourselves on the gymternet. I have a tumblr appropriately full of tumbling gifs, a Patreon subscription to Lauren Hopkins’ Gymternet site, and a YouTube history full of old meets that I’ve watched a thousand times.
The number one thing I learned from How To Be A Tudor, by charming and intelligent historian Ruth Goodman, is that I’m glad I’m not a Tudor.
‘My name is Melisande Stokes and this is my story. I am writing in July 1851 (Common Era, or – let’s face it – Anno Domini) in the guest chamber of a middle-class home in Kensington, London, England. But I am not a native of this place or time. In fact, I am quite fucking desperate to get out of here.’ Having never read anything by Nicole Galland before, I may be speculating, but her influence on Neal Stephenson’s infodump tendencies seems to be a positive one and makes The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O, a time-travel romp/workplace comedy/well-researched historical fiction, come together […]