Even though our book club tanked after Darin Strauss's novel, it is not a dead art form. Like, it's totally cool if you're The New Yorker. Maybe we needed more clever headlines ("We Read to Know We are not Alone") or cute taglines: "Adventures in communal reading." Ah, well, mice, it will not be the only time I fail you.(Via GalleyCat, via BookClubGirl.)
8 comments:
THIS IS A BIT INCOHERENT COULD YOU PLEASE CLARIFY. WHAT BOOK CLUB ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? THE NEW YORKER HAS A BOOK CLUB? LINK DOESN'T WORK AND WRITING IS CRYPTIC.
check links again...btw, i feel like there's no room for my capitalization in this relationship when you use them all up.
Groucho said that he wouldn't join a country club that would accept him as a member.
I wouldn't join a country club that wouldn't accept me as a member.
LET'S START THE BOOK CLUB AGAIN
AND AS A FINAL RESPONSE TO HE QUESTION OVER WHETHER W, R IS THIRD-GENDERED I WILL HAVE TO SAY FEMALE, OBVIOUSLY, AS A MAN WOULD NOT HAVE SAID 'RELATIONSHIP' ABOVE. THE PICTURE TOO OF W, R IS SUGGESTIVE. THANK YOU AND KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK.
Has SOMEONE been smoking the wacky baccy again?
I agree, though, that green cartoon sadface is suggestive... of a green cartoon sadface.
And I had no problem following the link to the New Yorker's book club. They sure have got themselves some eager, sycophantic mice. But I suspect WR prefers the kind that hang out here and bitch and moan and squeak. Am I wrong?
Where is that image from, the one on the post? I've seen it before, it's on the tip of my brain cell but I'm blanking. Thanks.
Like the NYer would allow anything but some slavering comments! Ha! Eustace Tilley sprays mice in the face with Lysol.
Image is from the graphic novelist Alex Robinson.
Title of book: Too Cool To Be Forgotten.
The character is drawn out of the words in his head.
Too cool.
Please, oh God, let Daddy find a job and please don't let the Book Club start again.
Amen.
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