Tag Archives: Charles Dickens

The Trumpiad: Book 1—Canto 8

August 2017 I “This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle”— Thus, Ulysses (from Tennyson). No wuss Was this princeling, but full of care and wile; A stern-browed Ithacan (not treasonous), Who … Continue reading

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The Fine Writer

A friend who is currently writing a book sent me an email about its progress. She told me she’d started to read H is for Hawk, Helen MacDonald’s award-winning memoir of how she dealt with her grief over her father’s death through falconry. My … Continue reading

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