It's odd now to think that Ian McEwan once lacked confidence as a novelist. His first two attempts at the longer form - The Cement Garden and The Comfort of Strangers - felt like the work of a born short-story writer being stretched on a rack by his publisher and literary tradition, needing help from typeface and spacing to qualify even as novellas. But with his last but one novel Amsterdam having won the Booker Prize and the last Atonement out-selling John Grisham and Tom Clancy in some weeks' book charts, McEwan has the swagger - the literary equivalent of a tennis player in the first tournament after winning Wimbledon - of a novelist who could do almost anything. What he has done is Saturday, which resembles Amsterdam in sardonically examining the interior life of the contemporary middle classes but departs starkly from the century-long focus of Atonement by taking place over 24 hours, on what is supposed to be the day off of Henry Perowne, a noted London neurosurgeon. A recent edition of Granta carried an extract from Saturday, in which Perowne drives out of Oxford in the morning to visit his brain-hazed mother. I had assumed that this was the beginning of the novel but it turns out to be page of a book of less than pages.
Puyallup Farmers Market Returns Saturday
Book Reviews – The Writing Center • University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
You know, for my birthday? We need time to grieve. We only got the dog today, and it died in our driveway , so technically we never had Fluffy. This story was hilarious. When the dog dies on the driveway before even getting in the house, the day is locked in as the worst birthday ever.
Boozy Tunes Saturday
Now, he's back with a passion project about a man subjected to ghastly secret government experiments. Shipstead says she wants to investigate the difference between death and a disappearance like Earhart's. Hooked author Michael Moss says processed food companies appeal to our childhood nostalgia: "What we eat is all about memory.
It is a battle waged between wealthy television channels, one unnecessary slo-mo camera angle at a time. Slow Getting Up , a new memoir from Nate Jackson, wins the war to get furthest inside: Jackson spent seven years playing wide receiver and tight end for professional football teams, and this is his tell-all tale of how it all went down. Get more inside than that. To be sure, the spotlight of public attention is shining more brightly upon Jackson now that he is something of a pundit than it ever did during his obscure playing days.