Book of the Day Archive
October 25, 2018
At the first gesture of morning, flies began stirring. Inman’s eyes and the long wound at his neck drew them, and the sound of their wings and the touch of their feet were soon more potent than a yardful of roosters in rousing a man to wake.
October 19, 2018
It was Mrs. May who first told me about them.
October 18, 2018
Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood. If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom and dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.
October 12, 2018
If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book.
October 11, 2018
They took my father three days ago, a week before my tenth birthday. No one knows where he is. Or if they do know, they are not telling me.
October 4, 2018
The room is bright and alive at 8:45 a.m. I can almost ignore Middle Borough High School’s zombie fluorescent lighting.
October 5, 2018
Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity. Good. His dad had the pickup going. He could get up now. Jess slid out of the bed and into his overalls.
September 28, 2018
In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.
September 27, 2018
Jim Webb’s luck was running muddy when Bass Reeves rode into town. Webb had stayed one jump ahead of the lawman for two years. He wasn’t about to be caught now.
September 26, 2018
I shouldn’t have come to this party. I’m not even sure I belong at this party. That’s not on some bougie shit, either. There are just some places where it’s not enough to be me. Either version of me.
September 21, 2018
Eleven-year-old Virgil Salinas already regretted the rest of middle school, and he’d only just finished sixth grade. He imagined all those years stretching ahead of him like a long line of hurdles, each of them getting taller, thicker, and heavier, and him standing in front of them on his weak and skinny legs.
September 14, 2018
When the deacons at our Bible Belt church cued up a horror flick aimed at dramatizing Hell according to the apocalyptic book of Revelation, I figured I better get right with God, and soon.
September 13, 2018
Today I moved to a twelve acre rock covered with cement, topped with bird turd and surrounded by water.
September 7, 2018
My name is LaVaughn and I am 15. When a little kid draws a picture it is all a big face and some arms stuck on. That’s their life. Well then, you get older and you are a whole mess of things, new thoughts, sorry feelings, big plans, enormous doubts, going along hoping and getting disappointed, over and over again. Nno wonder I don’t recognize my little crayon picture.
September 6, 2018
It begins, as most things begin, with a song.
August 31, 2018
Miyax pushed back the hood of her sealskin parka and looked at the Arctic sun. It was a yellow disc in a lime green sky, the colors of six o’clock in the evening and the time when the wolves awoke.
August 24, 2018
They didn’t say anything about this in the books, I thought, as the snow blew in through the gaping doorway and settled on my naked back. I lay face down on the cobbled floor in a pool of nameless muck, my arm deep inside the straining cow, my feet scrabbling for a toe hold between the stones.
August 23, 2018
“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.
August 22, 2018
|The monster showed up just after midnight. As they do. Conor was awake when it came.|
August 17, 2018
I am born on a Tuesday at University Hospital, Columbus, Ohio, USA, a country caught between Black and White.
August 16, 2018
We shot dogs. Not by accident. We did it on purpose, and we called it Operation Scooby.
August 10, 2018
Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle, and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic Darkness, had found a yellow metal.
August 9, 2018
It was a dark and stormy night.
August 3, 2018
My name is India Opal Buloni, and last summer my daddy, the preacher, sent me to the store for a box of macaroni-and-cheese, some white rice, and two tomatoes and I came back with a dog.
August 2, 2018
Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes.
July 27, 2018
The drought had lasted now for ten million years, and the reign of the terrible lizards had long since ended.
July 26, 2018
First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rucksack.
July 19, 2018
A mouse was looking at Mario. The mouse’s name was Tucker, and he was sitting in the opening of an abandoned drainpipe in the subway station in Times Square.
July 13, 2018
I was not there, yet I was there.