Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (and other concerns)
I love to read. I love to read anything. And I really like biographies, especially lately. For some reason I've been picking them up without knowing what they are. I know that sounds odd, you would know a biography when you see it. Except that I don't. "The Boys of my Youth" by Jo Ann Beard and "Driving with Dead People" by Monica Holloway made it onto my shelf without me knowing what they were; but I've also read "Lucky" by Alice Sebold and "The Mistresses Daughter" by A.M. Homes in the last 6 months. For whatever reason, I respond to them when I see them on the shelf. (P.S. I'm also promoting all of the above if you need something to read. All = awesome!!) The nature of all writing is expository, I think. Even in fiction you, as a reader, always learn more about the author than they probably meant. And when it's intentional, when a writer deliberately let's you in on whatever secrets they have, the amount of restraint th...