Ages ago (in Internet years) gingerhaole tagged me to respond to this, and I finally got some time to answer.
In a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.
I’ve listed them in vaguely chronological order, descending.
Apologies, I took a while to see this because I was at a friend’s wedding in a state park with approximately -5% internet reception.
This is awesome! I’m so happy that my little post could be of use. I also found courage for my hair-lopping after reading a few inspiring and encouraging blog posts from other lovely larger ladies.
I bet you look suuuuper foxy. Way to go!
All these relationships between women, I thought, rapidly recalling the splendid gallery of fictitious women, are too simple. So much is been left out unattempted. And I tried to remember any case in the course of my reading where two women are represented as friends. There is an attempt at it in Diana of the Crossways. They are confidantes, of course, in Racine and the Greek tragedies. They are now and then mothers and daughters. But almost without exception they are shown in their relation to men. It was strange to think that all the great women of fiction were on, until Jane Austen’s day, not only seen by the other sex, but seen only in relation to the other sex. And how small a part of a woman’s life is that; and how little can a man know even of that when he observes it through the black or rosy spectacles which sex puts upon his nose.