I had no one to help me, but the T.S. Eliot helped me. So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read at school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and it’s place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language — and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers — a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn’t a hiding place. It is a finding place.
- Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? by Jeanette Winterson

Jade Thompson by Eeva Rinne 

You told me about your home in Finland: your parents’ cabin by the lake, and the way you would crack the thin surface ice in the winter and plunge head-first into the sun-warmed water in the summer. You told me about borštškeitto and glögi, and I dreamed of us drinking the cinnamon-spiced wine, mixed with raisins and almonds, while watching the snow fall onto the surface of the lake.
- Floating House in the Fleeting World by Kirsty Logan

“I came to America when I was 14. My mother told me that books were too heavy to bring, and I had this crazy idea that I’d never be able to replace them, so I copied all my favorite Russian poems by hand.”

Marie Calloway is a beautiful name, a literary pseudonym, a semi-fictional character, an emotional persona, and to some people, a terror or a bore. I get both of those descriptors—her stories are intense, at times harrowing, and her writing style is a strange mix of flat and red-raw. I can’t say this novel is a joy to read, but I can say it’s an unforgettable experience that I’m glad I had. It made me uncomfortable in the best possible ways.”


Nashville is a fabulous mess and Katie Coyle has fabulous things to say about it over at The Female Gaze.