So here's an idea to help me do my homework: make my assignments part of my blog.  An interesting and somewhat confusing idea, to be sure, but also pretty obvious.  Since a lot of my assignments have to do with reading and reviewing, it fits in too well with my goal here to ignore.  Granted, I'm not about to subject any of my readers to my thoughts about Titus Andronicus (hmm ... or would I?), but certainly anything that strikes me as particularily good or memorable. (Important distinction: one does not also go hand-in-hand with the other.)

Tonight's subject of review is different: a short story.


"A Small, Good Thing" can be found in Cathedral, a collection of superb short stories by Raymond Carver.  I read it in Doubletakes, my text for my class.

( She stood at the window with her hands gripping the sill, and knew in her heart that they were into something now, something hard. )

Having gone home for a quick break during this holiday weekend, I managed to finish Little Women - which, quite frankly, shouldn't have taken me this long.


I figure this cover is much preferrable to the blank red cover of my hardback.

( Four women, taught by weal and woe/To love and labor in their prime/ ... May they be rich in golden hours,/Deeds that show fairer for the light ... )

It's 2010, but for me the year won't really start until I get settled in at State U.  I'm three-fourths of the way through Little Women and gazing lovingly at my recent purchases (and having a blast listening to a few new CDs).  Now, though, I want to write about a book I've loved for the past decade - hence the title of this post.


The cover is cute, if maybe slightly underwhelming - I've never liked that yellow-colored font.  Its subtitle might sound a little New Age-y, but the advice inside is practical and presented in a frank - but friendly - manner.

( Remember, we need each other. When our panties are down and there's no more toilet paper in the ladies' room, it's the woman in the next stall we're always going to turn to for help. )

  Huzzah! After weeks of interruptions, reading one chapter at a time, I can finally cross this one off one of my many reading lists.

 
First things first: No one - I repeat, no one - back then had bleach-blonde hair. I can almost garuntee you that. Also, I highly doubt that there were cotton candy pink or navy blue dresses, and that they would show that much back. However, they did get the style of the dresses right, for the most part, and the intricate hairdos. Sorry, I had to get this off my chest.

( After all, a carefully won marriage was far more important than affairs of state. )

So I've been writing a lot lately, not to mention thinking about the stuff I still need to do for my grad school application, and decided to do a rather easy review today.  This is one of my favorites.


Now, I am not a huge fan of Saturday Night Live, although it has made me laugh again and again (specifically anything Tina Fey has done, and sketches like "The Fast and the Bi-Curious").  But I am an unabashed fan of anything that includes gossip of famous people, and I ate this book up.

( So much of what Saturday Night Live wanted to be, or I wanted it to be when it began, was cool. )

This was too weird to pass up, or so I thought reading the description.  It's still too weird.  I have no idea how I'm going to review this thing.


This is one of my "grown-up" books (as opposed to YA), and what cinched it for me was a blog describing it as akin to "Pushing Daisies," one of my favorite shows. 

( A-l-l GREAT s-t-o-r-i-e-s contain within themselVEs SOMEthing ... faMiliAr )