Villain Hitting for Vicious Little Nobodies by Lindsay Wong
Villain Hitting for Vicious Little Nobodies is a lot.
Villain Hitting for Vicious Little Nobodies is a lot.
In Honeydew, Ben Zalkind’s new novel, tech billionaire Moses Honeydew is intent on tunnelling into the core of the earth. I suspect readers will either be automatically sold on the book after hearing this, or put off.
The focus of the book is that compassionate curiosity of the narrator Eric as he tries to puzzle out his life, his times.
Bedell explores the life of Steve, former insurance salesman, current husband and father to two children, who is just trying to make everyone happy and earn a living.
Set in Nova Scotia’s writing community, it features Val Jenkins, a journalist for the Halifax Post, who has been writing the “local books” column for more than a decade, but she would rather be covering the crime beat.
An object of disgust, Dengue Boy is marked from birth as an outcast. Beset by a sudden thirst for blood, which only female mosquitoes possess, Dengue Boy realizes in adolescence that she is really Dengue Girl and sets out to exact her revenge on the wealthy people and tourists for whom her mother toils tirelessly.
The title of Danielle Deveraux’s book The Chrome Chair comes from a quote the poet heard at the Newfoundland and Labrador Historical Society Symposium in 2003:
“We were promised a seat at the table of nations: what we got was a chrome chair” (5).
During his stay, he takes the reader on a roller-coaster journey through the eyes of a Westerner witnessing life under oppression in places like Hong Kong and mainland China, where teenagers play with drones, yet banned books are smuggled into the country.
A work of historical fiction, the setting is a place Hussain has imagined where matriarchy plays an important role.
Nolan D. Insyte conjures a milieu that feels at once raw and surreal, calling to mind the spectral streets of Dylan’s Desolation Row and, in a sly echo of the author’s own forward, Wilde’s Vera; or, The Nihilists, where misfits and nihilists collide in a kind of gauzy, narcotic ballet.
“Every woman has value, and we deserve to have our murders investigated and solved and our killers locked away.” – Sister Pius
As Nora, the protagonist of Robert G. Penner’s The Dark King Swallows the World points out early on, an empiricist “only believes what there’s evidence for. Things you can see with your own eyes,” and for much of my reading and writing life this has held true for me as both a consumer and a practitioner of fiction.
A careful blend of fact and fiction, Culley was inspired by a sheaf of music scores written by her great-grandfather that she discovered in her father’s basement, including music for several flute trios.
It’s 1999, and Tim Brown is taking an unprecedented sabbatical from editing the South River Times to delve into the connections between his many communities: the newspaper, the church choir, the local diner, the Chamber of Commerce, even the Nova Scotia Legislature. His mix of canniness and naiveté – he inherited his job and rarely leaves South River – makes the character complex enough to keep readers engaged.
There is a mystery to uncover situated in the detailed life on the farm during the late 1800s. Black’s flair for writing superb and timely dialogue keeps the reader planted in this time and space.