“What would Emily Post do?”
“The machine doesn’t have Coke, it has Pepsi. A feeling of defeat chokes me. Will nothing ever go right for me again?”
Rarely do fat female role models appear in the United States (um, or elsewhere), so I put a hold on a copy at the library.
“It was a class called ‘Math Methods for Junior Learners,'”said Netta dryly. “If he could squeeze any Communist doctrine into that, he deserved a prize.”
For a whole week, some amazing book bloggers will be celebrating the release of Heather’s novel by inviting her into their webspace to talk about this funny, kick-ass novel filled with magical-realism.
By night she plays piano in a whorehouse, but by day she runs a bookstore she owns…
“…I yell loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear A racist lives here! A racist lives here!”
Once upon a time, last semester, I took a course called International Foods. I did this because I liked the idea of eating at school, and also learning in a room that had ovens.
Not all fat people feel bad inside, I must remember.
The absolute best part of this novel are the diverse voices. Oh, God, Jaimy Gordon is so good at it.