Category Archives: Book Club

Reading, writing, more reading

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I‘m a sucker for mystery reading, and I’ve just posted a new review at Escape Into Life of a Cuban mystery called Grab a Snake by the Tail. It’s set in Havana’s Chinatown district, which I didn’t even know existed, and it’s full of enough seedy atmosphere and surprising Cuban-Chinese culture to make me wish for a real-life peak at the neighborhood. It’s a strange book, and I had some love-hate issues with the detective protagonist (I’d call it Cuban noir, and our hero is definitely flawed), but it was fun. If you like mysteries, give it a try.

Want to stick closer to home? Pick up Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke. This one is set in Texas, and the writing is rich and textured and an absolute joy. Our hero is an African-American Texas ranger sent to investigate a pair of murders in a tiny rural community, and the plot is shot through with social and racial issues. It’s gritty and real and swimming in blues music and rural Texas. I just learned that a sequel is coming out in September. I don’t want to wait. Continue reading →

April in the rearview mirror

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April – what a month. I ushered it in with my annual April 1 (bunny bunny) reading of T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” then spent almost the entire remainder of the month reading and listening (and reading and listening, and reading and listening) to Leonard Cohen’s last book, The Flame. At month’s end, I had read the tactile book twice and listened to it on CD at least four times, if not five (starting in March). It was worth every minute. In between, I got to see Andrea Gibson perform, and read a lot of other poetry by a wide range of authors. I read poetry every single day of April, and it was a blessing. I also wrote poetry every day, although not all of it got published here. Here are all the pieces that did. There also were pieces I started and am still working on, pieces I discarded, and little snippets that found life only on my Twitter stream. Case in point:

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A little e.e. cummings to end National Poetry Month

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On the last day of National Poetry Month—today—I turned my attention finally away from Leonard Cohen and listened to a CD of e.e. cummings reading his own work. Undeterred by the fact that he was a pretty terrible reader (or this was one truly substandard performance), I was happily reminded how much I love his poem “somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond.” Continue reading →

Obsession: Leonard Cohen

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I’ve spent much of the early part of April, National Poetry Month, reading the poetry of Leonard Cohen. That’s largely because I spent much of the end of March doing the same. I came across Cohen’s last book, The Flame, among my library’s CD books, and brought it home to accompany me on my way to and from work. Halfway through, I went back to the library and got the hardcover book as well.

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