All posts tagged: female authors

Book Club: Tiny Beautiful Things, advice on love and life from Dear Sugar

by Erin Rose Let me start by saying this book is actually called, Tiny Beautiful Things, advice on love and life from Dear Sugar. But I didn’t even realize it until I went to write this, because I have always simply called it Dear Sugar, and I am going to continue to do exactly that here. So, I found Dear Sugar, or I suppose it’s more apt to say Dear Sugar found me, last spring in a bookstore in the small town I live in right now. A friend who, knowing I love Cheryl Strayed, thrust it upon me and insisted that it would truly be one of the best reads of my life. She and her mother had read it, both carrying it around with them in their purses for weeks. She said it was the kind of book you’ll be pulling out to loan to people or rereading yourself in the years to come. I love anyone who is passionate about reading, and I could tell she meant every word. Have I mentioned yet …

Book Club: The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion

by Erin Rose Joan Didion is a master of words. Her work, her career, her ease with language is something that both inspires and frightens me. She has written in nearly every genre under the sun but I am particularly in love with her nonfiction work. I devoured the essay collection, Slouching Toward Bethlehem, and then began reading nearly everything she’d ever crafted. During this past summer I encountered a particular amount of loss. My mother says people always die in threes. It’s the laws of the universe. I found myself without the proper language to discuss the grief. I am hardly ever without the proper language for anything. It is the one way I know I can communicate with the world and myself. My words are my life. One afternoon I found on the bookshelf in my sisters’ home a copy of, The Year of Magical Thinking. It was as if someone had planted it there for me. I found what I didn’t even know I was looking for.

This is what a feminist looks like

By Hannah- Rose Yee It was a man who first taught me what feminism was. I was in second year at university and I thought I knew everything. I was taking my first ever gender studies course, which cross-listed with my English major (somehow), and which I thought, based on the text list, would be a semester spent discussing Virginia Woolf novels and Sylvia Plath poetry, but ended up being 13 weeks talking about all the ways that women have been well and truly screwed over by the literary, cinematic, historical, governmental, social – you name it – establishment since the dawn of time. I ended up learning a lot, because I went in cocky and self-assured (I’d read Mrs Dalloway before, well, when I say ‘read’, I mean, I had read The Hours), feeling pretty certain that this was an ‘easy’ subject I’d be able to coast my way through. It ended up being the worst mark I ever received at university. And all because I had no idea what feminism was when I …