The smell of woodsmoke in the air tonight is compelling me to start lining up my reading for the season.
On a whim, I signed up for a Faulkner seminar series in November & December, so a bit of Southern Gothic is up first. Next, Caver, who I have shamefully never read, and has been patiently waiting for his time on my bedside table.
The rest are gifts or recommendations from my absurdly talented writer friend, Ms. Jardine Libaire. Perhaps I can convince her to hop on a plane to Portland this Fall with the promise of dreamy fireside literary ruminations and few Northwestern adventures?
