I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love books. I remember sitting on my mom’s lap as a young child, engrossed in the stories of E.B. 477 more words
Tags » Babysitter's Club
What the heck did I just read?
Before I started this I unfairly assumed that “chiller” was a bit of an overstatement. But no: the New York subplot involving the crazy ex-girlfriend was genuinely creepy, especially the gift of a jack-in-the-box with Stacey’s face. 136 more words
“A lot of the classic, great stories were written by truly great writers. Joseph Conrad, Edgar Allen Poe, Edith Wharton, Henry James — they wrote what we would now call “genre fiction.” It got me thinking, “What happened?” When did that stop being something you could do and still be considered a serious writer?” Michael Chabon, whose novel 162 more words