We may be slightly obsessed with To Kill a Mockingbird

We may be slightly obsessed with To Kill a Mockingbird

"All in the Family was so popular in the 1970’s that the water table in New York City actually dropped during commercials (everyone was taking bathroom breaks)."

— Norman Lear, creator of the show and author of Even This I Get to Experience 

These titles were recently nominated for outstanding science writing, but they also make for a spooky read! 

These titles were recently nominated for outstanding science writing, but they also make for a spooky read! 

nprbooks:

You guys!  We are so VERY excited to be the ones to announce this year’s National Book Award finalists! Check out the full list here.

So happy for Phil Klay and Redeployment!

nprbooks:

You guys!  We are so VERY excited to be the ones to announce this year’s National Book Award finalists! Check out the full list here.

So happy for Phil Klay and Redeployment!

(via npr)

Click here to hear Mary Oliver reading her new poem “Franz Marc’s Blue Horses,” based on the famous painting that disappeared in 1937.

I step into the painting of the four blue horses
I am not even surprised that I can do this.

One of the horses walks toward me.
His blue nose noses me lightly. I put my arm 
over his blue mane, not holding on, just 
        commingling.
He allows me my pleasure.
Franz Marc died a young man, shrapnel in his brain.
I would rather die than try to explain to the blue horses
       what war is.
They would either faint in horror, or simply
      find it impossible to believe.
I do not know how to thank you, Franz Marc.
Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually.
Maybe the desire to make something beautiful
       is the piece of God that is inside each of us.
Now all four horses have come closer,
      are bending their faces toward me
              as if they have secrets to tell.
I don’t expect them to speak, and they don’t.
If being so beautiful isn’t enough, what

      could they possibly say?

Click here to hear Mary Oliver reading her new poem “Franz Marc’s Blue Horses,” based on the famous painting that disappeared in 1937.

I step into the painting of the four blue horses

I am not even surprised that I can do this.

One of the horses walks toward me.

His blue nose noses me lightly. I put my arm

over his blue mane, not holding on, just

        commingling.

He allows me my pleasure.

Franz Marc died a young man, shrapnel in his brain.

I would rather die than try to explain to the blue horses

       what war is.

They would either faint in horror, or simply

      find it impossible to believe.

I do not know how to thank you, Franz Marc.

Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually.

Maybe the desire to make something beautiful

       is the piece of God that is inside each of us.

Now all four horses have come closer,

      are bending their faces toward me

              as if they have secrets to tell.

I don’t expect them to speak, and they don’t.

If being so beautiful isn’t enough, what

      could they possibly say?

A poem from Mary Oliver’s forthcoming collection BLUE HORSES (10/14)

a-geek-without-braces: 
Happy National Reading Group Month!  What’s your group reading?  We picked Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng! 

a-geek-without-braces

Happy National Reading Group Month!  What’s your group reading?  We picked Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng! 

Enter here for a chance to win A Thousand Mornings, Dog Songs, and Blue Horses by Mary Oliver! 

Enter here for a chance to win A Thousand Mornings, Dog Songs, and Blue Horses by Mary Oliver! 

jjoongie:

july reads!  the common thing about all my july reads?  (they’re all written by women, but also) i read each book from cover-to-cover in one sitting.
everything i never told you, celeste ng.

and then, as if the tears are telescopes, she begins to see more clearly:  the shredded posters and pictures, the rubble of books, the shelf prostrate at her feet.  everything that she had wanted for lydia, which lydia had never wanted but had embraced anyway.  a dull chill creeps over her.  perhaps — and this thought chokes her — that had dragged lydia underwater at last.  (247)

this was incredible.  SO incredible.  i knew nothing about this when i purchased it, but i was browsing at greenlight when i picked it up and was intrigued by the title and started flipping through it.  and, then, when i got home and started reading it, i couldn’t stop until i was done.
it’s amazing.  it’s a beautiful, heart-breaking portrait of grief and loss and how our expectations of the people we love can become burdens and how no one really means to fuck anyone up but it just happens and how it’s out of our control.  it’s a beautiful look into family and lost dreams and the ways we try to reclaim our dreams through other means, and i actually very rarely say this, but it’s also a wonderful depiction of being asian-american because ng isn’t obvious about it or draws attention to it in a fingerpointing “this is crucial” way.  the characters’ asianness is simply part of who they are; it’s not what defines them.
there was a lot that resonated with me personally, too, so that didn’t hurt.  i highly, highly, highly recommend this.

jjoongie:

july reads!  the common thing about all my july reads?  (they’re all written by women, but also) i read each book from cover-to-cover in one sitting.

everything i never told you, celeste ng.

and then, as if the tears are telescopes, she begins to see more clearly:  the shredded posters and pictures, the rubble of books, the shelf prostrate at her feet.  everything that she had wanted for lydia, which lydia had never wanted but had embraced anyway.  a dull chill creeps over her.  perhaps — and this thought chokes her — that had dragged lydia underwater at last.  (247)

this was incredible.  SO incredible.  i knew nothing about this when i purchased it, but i was browsing at greenlight when i picked it up and was intrigued by the title and started flipping through it.  and, then, when i got home and started reading it, i couldn’t stop until i was done.

it’s amazing.  it’s a beautiful, heart-breaking portrait of grief and loss and how our expectations of the people we love can become burdens and how no one really means to fuck anyone up but it just happens and how it’s out of our control.  it’s a beautiful look into family and lost dreams and the ways we try to reclaim our dreams through other means, and i actually very rarely say this, but it’s also a wonderful depiction of being asian-american because ng isn’t obvious about it or draws attention to it in a fingerpointing “this is crucial” way.  the characters’ asianness is simply part of who they are; it’s not what defines them.

there was a lot that resonated with me personally, too, so that didn’t hurt.  i highly, highly, highly recommend this.