Book of the Day Archive
May 7, 2021
Eragon stared at the dark tower of stone wherein hid the monsters who had murdered his uncle, Garrow.
May 6, 2021
1975: Year of the Cat. Today is Tet, the first day of the lunar calendar. Every Tet we eat sugary lotus seeds, and glutinous rice cakes. We wear all new clothes, even underneath.
May 5, 2021
Boyah was a pirate. He was one of the “old boys,” an original pirate, quietly pursuing his trade in the waters of his coastal hometown of Eyl years before it galvanized the world’s imagination as an infamous pirate haven in mid-2008.
April 30, 2021
Dewey Kerrigan sits on the concrete front steps of Mrs. Kovack’s house in St. Louis, waiting for her father. He is in Chicago–war work–and she has not seen him since the Fourth of July.
April 29, 2021
Ten years before Air Jordans, I learned to fly. It’s like the way brothers pimp-walk to a basketball hoop with a pumped-up ball and throw a few shots, hitting each one effortlessly. Like a car idling before a drag race, there is an invitation, perhaps even a threat, in the way their sneakers soft-shoe the pavement and the ball rolls around in their hands.
April 28, 2021
When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself….
April 23, 2021
Even if she hadn’t been the last person to walk through the turnstile at Warren Street tube station, Jack Barker would have noticed the tall, slender woman in the navy blue, thigh-length jacket with a matching pleated skirt short enough to reveal a well-turned ankle. She had what his old mother would have called “bearing.”
April 22, 2021
Dad says punk rock only comes in one volume: loud.
April 21, 2021
I have a secret. And everyone knows it. But no one talks about it, at least not out in the open. That makes it a very modern secret, like knowing your favorite celebrity has some weird eccentricity or other, or professional athletes do it for the money, or politicians don’t actually have your best interests at heart.
April 16, 2021
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
April 15, 2021
The game is played with three people. A man… A woman… and an interrogator in a room apart from the other two. A room in a house? If you like.
April 14, 2021
I’m in the water. Only my eyes are visible, and I blow bubbles to ensure the rest of me stays submerged until the opportune time.
April 9, 2021
I don’t know if what I remember is what happened or just how I imagine it happened now I’m old enough to tell stories. I’ve read about this thing called childhood amnesia. It means we can’t remember anything from when we were really small because before three years old we haven’t practised the skill of remembering enough to be able to do it very well.
April 8, 2021
Every September the great white sharks return to San Francisco. Their hunting grounds, the Farallon Islands, are just 30 miles from the city. While their 800,000 human neighbors dine on steak, salad, and sandwiches, the white sharks hunt for their favorite meal.
April 7, 2021
The date was July 27, 1919, a day that would forever change the life of John Turner Harris and cause the whole city of Chicago to rethink where it had been and where it was headed. As is often the case just before catastrophe strikes, that Chicago summer Sunday morning was like any other, carrying no hint of the trouble ahead.
April 3, 2021
Our hero was not one of those Dominican cats everybody’s always going on about—he wasn’t no home-runner hitter or fly bachetero, not a playboy with a million hots on his jock.
April 2, 2021
Roy would not have noticed the strange boy if it weren’t for Dana Matherson, because Roy ordinarily didn’t look out the window of the school bus. He preferred to read comics and mystery books on the morning ride to Trace Middle. But on this day, a Monday (Roy would never forget), Dana Matherson grabbed Roy’s head from behind and pressed his thumbs into Roy’s temple, as if he were squeezing a soccer ball.
April 1, 2021
Pallas sat sidesaddle on the kitchen counter, velvet ankle boots resting daintily in the deep porcelain sink. Pressing her nose against the dark kitchen window, she glared at the hulking cyclops creeping steadily toward Eris Gardens, its single working headlight illuminating the carriage house and steep gravel drive.
March 26, 2021
At the top of the key, I’m MOVING & GROOVING, POPping and ROCKING–Why you BUMPING? Why you LOCKING? Man, take this THUMPING.
March 25, 2021
In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ’s disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.
March 24, 2021
Grace hadn’t really thought too much about homecoming.
March 19, 2021
I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.
March 18, 2021
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
March 17, 2021
On the morning I was scheduled to die, a large barefoot man with a bushy red beard waddled past my house. The thirty degree temperature didn’t seem to bother him, but he must have had a lousy breakfast because he let out a burp as loud as a tuba.
March 12, 2021
Finally, I am twelve. Old enough to wear a toob. As soon as I wake, Muma whispers a birthday wish. “Blessings for all the years to come, Amira.” My mother has been awake for hours, starting early with farm chores. On this birthday morning bright as the sun’s first yawn, ripened wheat sways.
March 11, 2021
The truth is, she was ornery and stubborn, wouldn’t listen to a n y b o d y, and selfish beyond selfish, and filthy, caked with mud and dust, and moody: you’d better watch it or she’d knock you flat. That’s Zora I’m talking about. Nobody wanted anything to do with her. Zora: that cow.
March 10, 2021
My name is Blaise Fortune and I am a citizen of the French Republic. It’s the pure and simple truth. I was almost twelve years old the day the customs officers found me in the back of the truck.
March 5, 2021
Jose de la Caridad Mendez was the first Latino baseball legend ever. In his homeland of Cuba, they called him “El Diamante Negro,” The Black Diamond.
March 4, 2021
This is how I feel every single day of my life, like I’m falling without a parachute.
March 3, 2021
His soldiers weren’t yet calling him the Lost Kauz behind his back, not when this began. The soldiers of his who would be injured were still perfectly healthy, and the soldiers of his who would die were still perfectly alive.