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Browsing Tag: reading

Just Five Questions with Kathleen Barber

Let’s meet Kathleen Barber, author of the psychological thriller Are You Sleeping: she was raised in Galesburg, Illinois. She graduated from the University of Illinois and Northwestern University School of Law, and previously practiced bankruptcy law at large firms in Chicago and New York. When she’s not writing, Kathleen enjoys traveling the world with her husband. A bit about her debut novel, Are You Sleeping: Serial meets Ruth Ware’s In A Dark, Dark Wood in this inventive and twisty psychological thriller about a mega-hit podcast that reopens a murder case—and threatens to unravel the carefully constructed life of the victim’s daughter. Josie Buhrman has spent the last ten years trying to escape her family’s reputation and with good reason. After her father’s murder thirteen years prior, her mother ran away to join a cult and her twin sister Lanie, once Josie’s closest friend and confidant, betrayed her in an unimaginable way. Now, Josie has finally put down roots in New York, settling into domestic life with her partner Caleb, and that’s where she intends to stay. The only problem is that she has lied to Caleb about every…

But It’s So Much Warmer Right Here

If you could have checked my Facebook feed this weekend, I’m sure it looked a lot like yours, if you’re an East Coaster, too: snow. Lots and lots of pictures of snow: rulers stuck into patio-table-topped drifts, kids with huge smiles sledding down hills, dogs sunbathing on top of the shrubs in the front yard. We got 37 inches where I live. I know this only because I checked it out online. I don’t go outside in the snow. Nope. I stay inside. I make hot chocolate, and bake cookies, and catch up on the laundry. I take a couple of fuzzy iPhone pics out of obligation from the open front door, wave at my children–“Are you coming OUTSIDE, Mommy?” Nope, nope, poor children, I am not–and quickly shut it again against the cold. I like the white stuff as it’s falling–probably because it means I don’t have to go outside in it juuuuust yet, and also because it’s an excuse to make a cocktail and go back to my book and pet the cat who just curled…

Who You Calling a Nerd?

I keep trying to read books with Quinn. Sometimes she listens, rubbing her fingers over the characters on the pages–especially if those pages have built-in mirrors that allow her to grin at her too-adorable, two-toothed self–but mostly, to my English teacher’s chagrin, when we sit down to read together she writhes around in my lap, tries to chew on my arm, or slaps the pages close because dammit, she doesn’t want to read any stinking books right now. She’s only 12 months old, I keep telling myself. She’s still a baby. So what if she doesn’t like to read now? It’s okay, there’s still time. There’s still time (kindly imagine the high-pitched voice wailing into the abyss, please). Then there’s Saoirse, who will wake early in the morning and read books for an hour quietly in her bed before we even realize she’s been awake. At night, I’ll walk by her room, and even if it’s a half hour past her bedtime, there she is, in bed, with…