Molly McCully Brown: Places I've Taken My Body

Molly McCully Brown: Places I've Taken My Body

Molly McCully Brown cannot forget she has a body. Many of us can. We float through life without recognizing the way we move from one place to another. Brown lives with severe cerebral palsy. She is “visibly disabled” so she must “talk about [her] body everywhere [she] goes.” In this captivating collection of essays Brown explores living with this body; hating it, learning to love it, what she says to her body, what it says to her, where she has taken her body and where she has pushed it to its limits.

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Rachel Cohen: Austen Years: A Memoir in 5 Novels

Rachel Cohen: Austen Years: A Memoir in 5 Novels

Jane Austen’s novels conjure up images of country ball rooms, empire waist dresses and teatime in the parlor---not grief. Yet Rachel Cohen’s biblio-memoir, Austen Years: A Memoir in 5 Novels, does just that. Cohen looks at the well-loved British novels through the lens of grief, mirroring Cohen’s own in her in the death of her father. Walking through Austen’s work with Cohen, one will wonder why they never looked at this literature in this way before.

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Book Review: MFK Fisher's Consider the Oyster

Book Review: MFK Fisher's Consider the Oyster

Yet even without this photograph, I would have had a similar mental picture of MFK Fisher simply by her voice in, Consider the Oyster, her collection of essays on, you guessed it, the subject of oysters. I would have imagined her in pearls with a martini in her hand describing her recipes of oyster- or ---in a plummy diction reminiscent of Martha Stewart before jail, before she became friends with Snoop Dogg and an old Hollywood actress that graced the films for the 30’s or 40’s. Her accent, of course, would be neither British or American in origin, but somewhere that hovers over the Atlantic for those who can afford to spend time in both places frequently enough.

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The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

Curled up with the book one evening, I listened to the sounds of my husband opening drawers and stirring pots in the kitchen. My soon to be 7-year-old, came over for a snuggle. He grasped the book from my hands as he curled into my lap. I had just started the first story and my son read to me in his little voice sounding not unlike a Peanuts character. I stroked his hair as he rubbed his foot against mine.

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Lost in Books

Lost in Books

My 5-year-old son and I are sitting side by side on the couch reading.  I with Annie Dillard’s An American Childhood, a book I should have read long ago and he another A-Z Mystery.  I have a bag of chips on my left and every few pages he raises his hand out, without speaking for another chip.  My 7-year-old is elsewhere in the house, probably in the smallest space between two pieces of furniture, curled up with his own book. 

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