Welcome to Litsy!

'You ever see Now, Voyager? 'Ten times,' I said.
"This is where Bette Davis and Paul Henried sat having a love lunch early in the film....
We were in San Diego by three and outside the bullring in Tijuana just at the hour of four. "Think you can stand this?" asked Constance. 'I can only try,' I said.
...we went north and drove out onto the island and sat in the sunset at the Coronado Hotel. We didn't say anything...

But it was not so much the presence of nine hundred or a thousand books, as it was their titles, their subjects, their incredible dark and doomed and awful names.

On the high, always midnight shelves stood Thomas Hardy in all his glooms next to The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, which leaned on dread Nietszche and hopeless Schopenhauer cheek by jowl with The Anatomy of Melancholy, Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley, Freud....and on and on.

Every time anyone drops dead of a heart attack or trips over his shoelaces in Venice, there's someone there the next day to tell me sixteen to the dozen, how to solve the stopped heart or retie the shoelaces. You've got the heart attack shoelace look about you, and I didn't sleep last night.

This book's had a long history of loans...

Ray Bradbury mysteries for some weekend reading…

Stopped by a Barnes & Noble and just wandered until something caught my eyes. Today‘s winners were the tagged book—I‘m not even sure I knew Bradbury wrote crime fiction—and a middle grade fantasy, the first couple of pages were very entertaining. Looking forward to the long weekend and some good reading.

#WhereAreYouMonday

This Monday finds me on the Planet Mars. It‘s only the second time I‘ve visited here in books, I think, having only previously read Andy Weir.

Every first Tuesday, our favorite local bookstore hosts Tunesday with a musician‘s circle. You can regularly hear the mountain dulcimer, banjo, tin whistle, guitar, mandolin, harmonica, limberjacks, violin, cello, Chinese erhu, & more!

My favorite part is the Celtic dance & clogging. And the books, of course. This month was also a Wassail celebration. And I drank a literary-themed Blood Meridian cocktail. Anyway, I‘m back now!

"Her hourglass is malfunctioning, someone has put funeral-urn ashes in it instead of sand. There are odd whispers in her icebox door. The ice falls inside the fridge at midnight and sounds like the wrong kind of laughter. The toilet across the hall gargles all night. The termites under her chair are going to gnaw through and drop her to hell. The spiders in the wall are mending her shroud."

"Only the projector and the films in the parlor. Time only works well in one direction. Back. I control the past. I'll be damned if I know what to do with the present, and to hell with the future. I'm not going to be there, don't want to go there, and would hate if you made me. It's a perfect life."