Books and Other Pleasures

“Six-hundred Seconds”

That’s how I found this little precious book. Fearing that I was wasting my time (and reason) behind a window wet with tears of Heaven. “Ten minutes long”, a title that immediately catched me. A title that was necessary for me.

Thr0ugh The Mirr0r

The rain falls slowly, almost bored of having to do so, on the window glass from which you can see at times and blurry the others’ lives. Is it for duty or pleasure that the neighbour is taking out the dog despite the cold? Is it because he loves his pet to the point of getting pneumonia? Or because his house is tight and maybe needs to run away, at least a little. Just for a while.
And the girl who cries at the bus stop, what is she thinking of? Had she lose a lover, a friendship? Or maybe she just got a bad score and does not want to admit it to her family for fear of ruining her Christmas holidays?

26_ Per dieci minutiThe music continues to do its duty and composes a perfect soundtrack to cover the thoughts. Or at least it tries to do so.

Did I buy…

View original post 635 altre parole

Books and Other Pleasures

“A Saturday afternoon with Bonita Faye”

I was about 11 years old; I was bored because I had already finished the new horror book in the series, I was crazy about; my father came to me and handed me a “grown-up” novel <read it, you’ll like it >.

If there is a person I trust in everything (especially when it comes to reading) it is my father, so I took this book, and without even asking him what it was about, I sat on the floor with my back against the radiator (habit that I still have today …) and I started it.

Thr0ugh The Mirr0r

“After all, I killed only once every forty years. I had time to die, before the urge returned.”[1]

Saturday afternoon in October, uncertain weather, neither hot enough to play outdoors, nor so cold as to want to take refuge inside, that weather that makes you go around dressed like a fool with snow boots and a tank top, so to speak.

romy-and-michele-nothing-to-wear-gifI was about 11 years old; I was bored because I had already finished the new horror book in the series, I was crazy about; my father came  to me and handed me a “grown-up” novel << Read this, you’ll like it >>.

If there is a person I trust in everything (especially when it comes to reading) it is my father, so I took this book, and without even asking him what it was about, I sat on the floor with my back against the radiator (habit…

View original post 603 altre parole

Books and Other Pleasures

“Three writers: One story”

And having so many genres inside, it is a novel suitable for everyone, it can excite for the poignant love story, for the mystery, for the betrayed friendship, for the inspiration that does not arrive. In an interview the author stated that with this book he aimed to get on his readers the same effect that the TV series Homeland had on him (series I will talk about!):
“You watch one episode, then another, then you start doing stupid things like watching four in a row at night so you can’t work the next day … My ambition was to achieve the same result with a book”

Thr0ugh The Mirr0r

” ‘In our society, Marcus, the most admired men are those who build bridges, skyscrapers, and empires. But in reality, the proudest and most admirable are those who manage to build love. Because there is no greater or more difficult undertaking.’”[1]


Perhaps 779 pages are too many, he could have cut here and there and a great thriller would have come out anyway, yes, maybe the writing is still a bit unripe and the twists and turns are abundant but too isolated towards the end.
All reproaches that are easily found around and that made Joel Dicker[2] the perfect alter ego of the protagonist of his novel: Marcus Goldman, a young and successful writer who finds himself trapped in the writer’s block after the first success. Reading this book was like reading several books at the same time.Not only because it is a combination of different…

View original post 491 altre parole

Books and Other Pleasures

“A Saturday afternoon with Bonita Faye”

"After all, I killed only once every forty years. I had time to die, before the urge returned."[1] https://youtu.be/IJvI0WNihyM   Saturday afternoon in October, uncertain weather, neither hot enough to play outdoors, nor so cold as to want to take refuge inside, that weather that makes you go around dressed like a fool with snow… Continue reading “A Saturday afternoon with Bonita Faye”