I haven't read for pleasure in 35 years. I mean, I get a lot of pleasure from what I read... For me, it's gotten so that it doesn't seem as though I've read a book unless I've written about it. It really seems the completion of the reading process. Michael Dirda bookcompletionhave share on social
A reviewer's lot is not always an easy one. I can remember flogging myself to finish Harold Brodkey's 'The Runaway Soul' despite the novel's consummate, unmitigated tedium. Michael Dirda brodkeyconsummateeasy Change image and share on social
In 1911, Edgar Rice Burroughs, having failed at everything else, decided to write a novel. He was then in his mid-thirties, married with two children, barely supporting his family as the agent for a pencil-sharpener business. Michael Dirda agentbarelyburroughs share on social
None of us, of course, will ever read all the books we'd like, but we can still make a stab at it. Michael Dirda bookmakeread Change image and share on social
My urge at Christmas time or Hanukkah-time or Kwanzaa-time is that people go to bookstores: that they walk around bookstores and look at the shelves. Go to look for authors that they've loved in the past and see what else those authors have written. Michael Dirda authorbookstorechristmas share on social
For those of us with an inward turn of mind, which is another name for melancholy introspection, the beginning of a new year inevitably leads to thoughts about both the future and the past. Michael Dirda beginfutureinevitably Change image and share on social
I think of my own work as part of a decades-long conversation about books and reading with people I will mainly never meet. Michael Dirda bookconversationdecade Change image and share on social
Every summer, I regret that I didn't become a college teacher. Such a sweet life! With all that vacation time! You'll never get me to believe that being a tenured professor at a good college is anything but Heaven on earth. Michael Dirda collegeearthgood share on social
Literary generations come and go, and each generation passeth away and is heard of no more. In the end, simply the making itself - of poems and stories and essays - delivers the only reward a writer can be sure of. And, perhaps, the only one that matters. Michael Dirda deliverendessay share on social
Halloween isn't the only time for ghosts and ghost stories. In Victorian Britain, spooky winter's tales were part of the Christmas season, often told after dinner, over port or coffee. Michael Dirda britainchristmascoffee Change image and share on social
