Ashley
https://www.goodreads.com/january_bloom
progress:
(10%)
"The High Price of Salt-- or Carol, renamed after the recent film starring Cate Blanchett-- starts out just like the film. It's too soon to really discern anything about our protagonist, Therese, aside from that she does not seem happy to be working in a department store and would instead prefer to be a theater set designer. I can tell this author enjoys her descriptions of place and has an odd pacing to her writing." — Jan 08, 2019 02:08PM
"The High Price of Salt-- or Carol, renamed after the recent film starring Cate Blanchett-- starts out just like the film. It's too soon to really discern anything about our protagonist, Therese, aside from that she does not seem happy to be working in a department store and would instead prefer to be a theater set designer. I can tell this author enjoys her descriptions of place and has an odd pacing to her writing." — Jan 08, 2019 02:08PM
Ashley
is currently reading
progress:
(40%)
"A sharp departure from the Netflix series, although I knew that going in. I'm near the halfway point of the book and our cast is finally about to spend their first night in Hill House. So far nothing too alarming or spooky has happened, although Mrs. Dudley's word-for-word recitation of her duties and not being at the house "in the night, in the dark" was a little creepy. I'm intrigued and want to keep going." — Oct 25, 2018 02:53PM
"A sharp departure from the Netflix series, although I knew that going in. I'm near the halfway point of the book and our cast is finally about to spend their first night in Hill House. So far nothing too alarming or spooky has happened, although Mrs. Dudley's word-for-word recitation of her duties and not being at the house "in the night, in the dark" was a little creepy. I'm intrigued and want to keep going." — Oct 25, 2018 02:53PM
“purple threaded evening. a torn goddess laying on the roof. milk sky. lavender hued moan against hot asphalt. the thickness of evening presses into your throat. polaroids taped to the ceiling. ivy pouring out of the cracks in the wall. i found my courage buried beneath molding books and forgot to lock the door behind me. the old house never forgets. opened my mouth and a dandelion fell out. reached behind my wisdom teeth and found sopping wet seeds. pulled all of my teeth out just to say i could. he drowned himself in a pill bottle and the orange really brought out his demise. lay me down on a bed of ground spices. there’s a song there, i know it. amethyst geode eyes. cracked open. no one saw it coming.
october never loved you.
the moon still doesn’t understand that.”
― calloused: a field journal
october never loved you.
the moon still doesn’t understand that.”
― calloused: a field journal
“Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it.
Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.”
―
Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.”
―
“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
― The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
― The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”
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