Over the past ten years, I’ve become one of those awfully annoying people you might know as “foodies.” I really hate that word, foodie, but if someone were to label me, I’d probably fit somewhere in that designation.
So you can imagine my excitement when I saw a recently released coffee table book called Fictitious Dishes, written by Dinah Fried (such a great last name for a food writer). Food and literature? I’m in. All that’s missing is college football.
In Fictitious Dishes, Fried pulled quotes about meals from famous novels, cooked the food, then took beautiful photos of the result. It’s really a cool concept that is impressively executed.
Here are 6 samples from Dinah Fried’s website (used with permission) with the relevant sentence from each novel. And, okay, maybe the title of this post was misleading–let’s hope the meal from The Metamorphosis doesn’t make you hungry. Read more
You heard it here first. If you’re anti-spoiler, like my friend who got mad at me for ruining the ending to The Great Gatsby—nearly a century old—then you may hate this post.
If, on the other hand, you dive head first into the world of spoilers, then this post is just for you.
The catch here is that these spoilers are only one sentence long—so as not to give away great detail while helping you get the “essence” of the novel’s plot.
Also, these are mostly famous books, so hopefully you’ve read most of them anyway.
Parenting is hard work. I know that’s a cliche, but it’s a well-earned cliche.
Kids are pretty awesome, and they can even teach you a thing or two about reading, but they also have their moments. That’s why, if you want to be a parent, it’s important to make sure you are not a mental whack job.
Mental whack jobs who are parents usually produce kids who eventually become mental whack jobs themselves. This is not good.
Since fiction is often just a mirror of reality, there’s a lot to learn from literary parents, both good and whack jobbish.
Quite a bit, actually. Let’s take at some parenting tips I put together based on lessons I’ve learned from literary parents.
How have I missed this?
You might know I love To Kill A Mockingbird. It’s a classic. To me, that book is what literature is all about.
Had I read that book in 7th grade, though, my book review would have probably gone something like this.
Videos like this were the reason the internet was created. It’s starts accurate enough, but then things get out of hand.
Recently, my wife and I were discussing names for a possible second child sometime in the future (We have no announcement. We’re just planners.)
We’ve settled on a girl name. But, if we have a second boy, we’re still up in the air about what to name him. If she likes a name, I’m not crazy about it. If I like I name, she’s not feeling it. We’re having a constant back and forth.
The other day, I jokingly threw out the name Gatsby as a possibility. I mean, it’s kind of a cool name, I think. She declined.
But the conversation got me thinking about literary names. If we ever dived into the land of literature for our second child’s name, what are some possibilities?
It’s the age-old question: Do audio books count as reading?
Really, it’s probably more like “decade-old,” but I guess it’s still a heated discussion among literary nerds with nothing better to talk about.
Let me start by explaining my experience with audio books, using To Kill A Mockingbird as a case study. Here’s how it usually goes when I’ve listened to audio books while driving:
Mental Floss—a stellar website if you’ve never been, by the way—recently listed what some famous classic novels were almost called.
I found the list fascinating—it’s a literary “what might have been,” and it makes me wonder how the fate of these books might have changed if the original title had stuck.