Hey friends. I have another humour/writing tumblr you can follow, if you’d like. It’s called #carolineproblems, and it’s all short stories about my life. 

Just a heads-up: I’ll be deleting this tumblr later in the week, so now’s your chance to follow me on my new blog. It’s funnayyy, I promise. 

Thursday, May 26, 2011   ()

Updates

Hi guys! Again, if you haven’t made the switch to my new blog, I urge you to! Do it do it do it do it. Please and thank you.

Also, please check out my most recent Suite101 articles - I’ve written about Rachel Bilson’s style, vintage shopping, beginning/maintaining an exercise program, eating more vegetables, and doing your hair like Kate Middleton

Thank you for your continued support. I can’t thank you enough! 

P.S. you can check out my writer profile here

Tuesday, January 25, 2011   ()

hey guys! you can check out my second Suite101 article here, and, as always, remember to check out my new blog

Saturday, January 8, 2011   ()

heyo friends! I hope your Christmases have been lovely and your 2011s have been going swimmingly thus far.

If you haven’t currently updated to my new blog, I recommend you do so. 

Additionally, I’m now doing freelance writing for Suite101 - you can view my profile and my first article here. I know I’ve spent the last 3 weeks pretty obsessed with Kate Middleton’s hair, and I found it pretty difficult to find an article that broke down how to mimic her hairstyle. So, I wrote one of my own! 

Thanks so much, and please continue to follow my writing. 

Caroline

Wednesday, January 5, 2011 — 2 notes   ()

hey followers! did you know that I have a new blog? And that I review books, snark on magazines, and talk about prejudices within genres?

yeah, sounds pretty wicked to me too. you should probably check it out now, just sayin’. 

Thursday, December 2, 2010   ()

blog move/change!

Hello everyone. This Tumblr thing’s been fun, but it ultimately wasn’t for me. If you so choose, you can head on over to my new blog, which will include more book reviews, more musing about writing, and writing about other things, which I didn’t really include on this blog.

Please follow me on my new blog adventure! I have good feelings about this one. 

Sunday, October 3, 2010   ()

Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.

Don DeLillo (via krishab) (via libraryland) (via booklover, -kbc) (via teachingliteracy) (via ilovereadingandwriting) (via rodwen)
()

an excerpt

the following is an excerpt from a story I’m writing. let me know what you think!

I ran a finger over the yellowing edge of The Portable Dorothy Parker and sighed. Despite my fit of ecstasy over these books earlier that week, as I stood in the library high on my own intellectual pretensions, I felt oddly deflated. When I flipped these books over, hoping for a description of the story contained within, all I saw were reviews of the book. I’d noticed more and more that books meant for adults were usually formatted like that, and I felt a rush of longing for the books I read as a child, all of which had descriptions on the back.

It wasn’t the descriptions I missed – it was the books themselves. A lonely, awkward child, most of my best childhood memories were in the company of books. If you spend that much time with books, reading them becomes more than just an escape – it’s like visiting an old friend, like knocking on a door, and, with a wave of relief, falling into familiar, beloved arms, and letting all the loneliness or anxiety or coldness of the outside world melt away.

For whatever reason, certain books were cottage books. Some books, which I usually kept at home, had been so beloved that I’d felt the need to transport them back and forth – Little Women, Harry Potter – but most stayed in their fixed location. And there was something truly wonderful about that first day back at the cottage after a long winter at home – opening the doors for the first time, and inhaling that glorious smell of pine and dust, and cold, clean, unused air, before launching myself into the cabin with glee, running around to rediscover all of my beloved, half-forgotten possessions. And the books - ! Running my hands greedily over the spines encased in the bookshelf, pulling books out wildly just for the joy of seeing their covers that had all but disappeared from memory.

It was wonderful, that sense of literary elation, and I missed it. I had weaned myself off of the desperate dependency on books for comfort in my middle school quest to shed my unforgiveable lack of cool. I was not exactly popular, but I no longer inhabited that awful nerdiness that clings to your skin like napalm, burning and burning so that you can’t forget it yourself, marking you so that no one else can ever forget either.

Besides my quest to shed that skin, I had matured, or so I believed. It was no longer acceptable to grab my tattered copy of Alice in Wonderland or The Midwife’s Apprentice or The Borrowers or The Adventures of Pippi Longstocking and gulp it down the way soccer players did water on a hot day, mouth to mouth with the bottle, only pausing to pour it down their fronts, and immerse themselves in it completely.

And so I had mostly stopped reading. Children’s books – although there were plenty that were horrible, there were so many of them that you could spend all your time just reading the good ones and you’d never run out of material – were wonderful, and those were no longer acceptable. Teen books were, in my mind, an abomination. Adult books had become a beacon of hope – maybe they could help fill the void left behind since I’d discarded my old friends. Now, they sat on the shelf, ignored, practically begging for me to pour over them rapturously, as I had once done. 

Sunday, August 29, 2010   ()

People without hope not only don’t write novels, but what is more to the point, they don’t read them. They don’t take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage. The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience.

Flannery O’Connor (via junkbondtrader) (via keremmermutlu) (via booklover)
()

she’s baaaaaaaaaaaack.

I have abandoned you all, I know.

I know. I know. I have no excuses. My time was eaten up by work and friends and running and sleeping and reading and writing…and, life, frankly. And, then, I went on vacation, and traversed the wilds of both Canada’s East Coast and forested cottage country.

What’s prompted me to return to you? Several things, but two in particular.

  1. When my hit count last arrived, 151 people had looked at my blog in one day. I was quite taken aback, and simply had to find out more. 
  2. I read some really fucking good books during my absence.

 So, let’s address the latter and forget the former, for now, shall we?

I’ve read 15 books since we last checked in, and I have neither the time nor inclination to review all of these for you. However, here they are:

  • Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes
  • Before You Know Kindness by Chris Bohjalian
  • Perfect Fifths by Megan McCafferty
  • Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
  • Something Blue by Emily Giffin
  • The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
  • Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger 
  • Secrets of Eden by Chris Bohjalian
  • In The Company of the Courtesan by Sarah Dunant
  • The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon
  • Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond
  • Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
  • The Help by Kathryn Stockett
  • Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
  • Old School by Tobias Wolff

Some of these, without doubt, were some of the best books I read all summer, or, indeed, in a long time. I want to review most, but not all of them, and will be doing that over the next few weeks. The upcoming month is a busy time for me, but I want to make a commitment to this. 

Before I sign off, I feel the need to remark that the quality of/my enjoyment of the books I read this summer, rose rapidly after I began to hunt specific books at the library. What can I say?

Having fun isn’t hard when you’ve got a library card.

(Cheesy? Yes. True? Yes, yes, yes!)

P.S. why so many page views?? can anyone explain the mystery?

Friday, August 27, 2010 — 1 note   ()
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