French Exit nearly had me exiting the book, but I’m glad I didn’t

Any book set in Paris is irresistible to me. French Exit by Patrick deWitt, who also wrote The Sisters Brothers, is a contemporary novel that reads like a 1930's farce. When I first started reading, the language struck me as peculiar; the characters were caricatures and the plot implausible. But the further into it I got, the more intrigued I became. French Exit was short-listed for the 2018 Scotiabank Giller Prize, so there were obviously people much smarter than I am who thought the book worth finishing so I soldiered…

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Anna Porter’s memoir is a gift to Canadian readers

If you're a lover of Canadian literature, then you're in for a treat. Anna Porter, author of In Other Words, How I Fell in Love with Canada One Book at a Time, is an author and former publisher extraordinaire with a pedigree spanning decades in the book business. I first became aware of her in the early seventies when she was profiled in Canadian magazines and newspapers as someone to keep an eye on. As a baby boomer and working mother of two young girls Anna Porter moved in the…

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One ringy dingy lights up my world

Remember when Lily Tomlin's character Ernestine ran the entire phone company single-handedly? From her little PBX switchboard she efficiently dispatched installers and repairmen while simultaneously providing harried customer service, challenging delinquent bill payers and dispensing unsolicited advice to business and world leaders. I actually worked for the phone company in those days and understood her loyalty and determination, not to mention her romantic crush on Vito, her favourite repairman. Back then, I too had a favourite repairman. In fact, I married him. But that's another story. Then, along came new…

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My queendom for the perfect eyeliner

Things change as we get older. I won't go into detail as you know what I'm talking about, but one issue that I haven't been able to resolve is finding the perfect eyeliner. Back in the olden days (the 60s and 70s), I could execute a perfect swipe of eyeliner faster than . . . well, the blink of an eye. My eyelids were taut, receptive and beautifully enhanced by whatever I applied, in whatever colour. And I applied plenty. As we age, less is better. We no longer apply…

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November 11, 1918. A celebration of two anniversaries.

On the same day that the Armistice ending The Great War, WWI was signed on November 11, 1918, my English grandmother married my grandfather, a young Canadian soldier in Folkestone, England. "It all started on The White Cliffs of Dover," he used to say at noisy family Christmases. That date forever has an extra special meaning for us on Remembrance Day. Grandma loved to tell us about how all the church bells were ringing and people were dancing in the streets when they walked out of the photographer’s studio after…

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