Hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl
My pick for this week’s freebie theme is a simple one. Let’s look at some interesting bookish stock photos! Tell me which one is your favourite in the comment section below. I’m including brief descriptions of them for anyone who needs captions or who can’t see the photos.
Sad girl holding a book while standing outside near a forest.
Black and white drawing of an astronaut floating through outer space. A book is attached to their helmet with a cord.
Drawing of a skull sitting on top of an antique book. An extinguished candle and empty hourglass are flanking it.
Two children standing in a forest reading books.
A cat wearing a pair of oversized glasses
A cup of tea and a few chocolate chip cookies on two fancy saucers
A cardboard robot standing on two stacked books while stirring a cup of coffee with a teaspoon
Two women balancing books on their heads while reading and laughing
Man floating in a body of water while reading and wearing a pair of sunglasses
Woman reading a book to her dog
Senior woman sitting on chair while reading a book to a young girl
I chose Canadian literary events for this week’s prompt because most of the bookish event and festival lists out there are heavily slanted towards the United States.
I’m the sort of reader who regularly jumps around between authors and among genres.
If only you all knew how hard it was to narrow this down to only ten books!
Summer weather in Toronto begins in June and runs through the end of September (or longer some years).
This week’s list might seem a little out of character for my reading habits. I jump around a lot in various genres, but the vast majority of the books I read were written in the last thirty to forty years.
I could have easily made this list twice as long. What a great topic! Please note that the final opening line references the death of a child.
4. “It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the old North Sea.”
9. “The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.”