I don’t know about you, but this year my death anxiety crept up on me like a colony of ants that wriggles its way over an unassuming child’s arm sitting in a meadow.
Instead of dealing with it the way I usually do, which is by reading books on spirituality, I went straight for a comedic, factual, and rather unself-helpy take on what happens with our physical bodies once we die.
Continue Reading “Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers – MARY ROACH”
Like most book nerds, I was a voracious reader as a child. I reveled in the magical worlds that authors built for me. But that all changed as I grew older and moved across the pond from Germany to California. Narrative adventures took a backseat to acquiring skills in a foreign language. By the time I became a full-grown woman, books had long disappeared from my daily routine. It wasn’t that I’d lost my appetite for stories – I still loved to be taken on a joy ride in my imagination – but I did find it increasingly harder to sustain a habit that wasn’t directly benefiting the padding of my wallet.
Continue Reading “On Writing: A Memoir on the Craft – STEPHEN KING”
