Ignoring the world for a few hours.
Books for the reading handicapped are…
— E. Nesbit
Half-eaten acorns dropped on the picnic table
as I write by candlelight tonight outside
in this suburban darkness and outdoor lighting
from neighboring backyards, and the cool breeze
turns pages of my late summer book.
— Italo Calvino
I could probably do some sustained reading here (and napping)
They are readers, and in this particular case, they are girls and women. In fact, one of the sadder things about observing the Book Girls in action is realizing that they – walking from author signing to author signing in happy gaggles, toting friends and sometimes parents – are having their voracious reading habits and their devotion to the importance of talking about your feelings socially reinforced in a way that one fears may be far less common for boys with similar impulses. (Learning that it’s okay to talk about your feelings is an important theme for many of the heroines in the books they love.) There are boys and men and older women who love many of the books that the Book Girls do, but it is the Book Girls who scream at authors the way people screamed at the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
On the young end, they may only be 10 or 11; they remain demographically Book Girls at least through college. And they do, on a broad scale, seen in large groups, seem to emerge as a type that is in a sense unfair to all of them but feels like a weighted average: They dress for comfort; they pull their hair back. They move in groups, they drink iced coffee, they talk about podcasts, I secretly suspect as I eyeball their earbuds that all their music is playlists, and they read all the time. They have The Fault In Our Stars shirts that say “Okay” and “Okay” in word balloons, they are very glad Harry and Hermione never got together because that would have been terribly reductive, and they consider power and individuality to be topics for books that are at least as important as kissing.
The Book Girls are part of the force that has made The Fault In Our Stars, , such a hit. They grew up on J.K. Rowling, they like trilogies, they embrace dark stories, they are ambivalent about Twilight (they read it, but they’re glad Hazel Grace is no Bella), they observe no particular boundaries between high and low culture, and they formed equally overwhelming throngs for Veronica Roth (who wrote the Divergent books) and for Amy Poehler, there to talk about her upcoming book. But in the end, if this was their Comic-Con, John Green is their First Avenger. And he knows it, and he tries to wield that power with some care: he (along with other Book Girl-adored authors) gave a signal boost to #WeNeedDiverseBooks.
― Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood
— Nathan Filer (The Shock Of The Fall)
It’s the birthday of Marilyn Monroe — born Norma Jean Mortenson in Los Angeles, California June 1, 1926.
"I don’t want to make money, I just want to be wonderful."
Stay within the lines, solid and dashed,
blurred at this speed like book pages
when I’m reading at night in bed
and miles and pages pass by unheeded.
Have I been in this place before?
Philosophical fiction isn’t always the easiest to define unless the author clearly states that there was a philosophical framework guiding the text, thus embedding that philosophy within the plot. It’s more common that writers’ personal politics and ideas get them lumped in with a specific movement, making everything in their bodies of work seem like they carry a message hidden carefully between the lines.
10 Great Works of Fiction for Philosophers on Flavorwire