My father had his own way of going to the mountains
Here you'll find my thoughts about life, travel, books and, because I love a laugh, the occasional spoof. All this from the perspective of a small town, on an island, in a country that's too close to the Antarctic for comfort.
Nau Mai, Haere mai. Come on in!
International pressure, one tweet, one criticism, one share, one question to your government at a time, maybe that can help
I had read three other novels on the Women’s Prize for Fiction long list, each of which I considered worthy of their place. If they’re the bench mark then this will be a safe bet, too, I thought. In that assumption I was wrong.
This slim volume takes no prisoners and I loved it.
Remembered is a mother’s farewell to her son. It’s a sister’s regret. A woman’s remembering: her anger, and her heartbreak; her resignation and her resilience.
At the end, I didn’t know whether to despair or hope for Sita. I still don’t.
Maurice Swift will do anything, anything, to get his name on the cover of a book.