What I’m thinking About that title. Could you? How would you define ‘list’? I tried and I came to a gathering of…thoughts? An itemized sequence? A compilation…of things? Yes, because compilation is so much simpler a word than ‘list.’ Anyway. The Guardian put together a list of what they called the 100 best novels ever written (you can check it out here ), by asking over 170 critics, authors, academics. It’s an interesting list. I’ve read some of the books on it. I like a few of them. (I love Pride and Prejudice! I’ve read it more than once, and even read modern retellings.) I read some of them and at the end I went, ‘Um, okay.’ I’m surprised some of the ones I thought would be there aren’t there. (Oddly, I started reading the one that hit number one around the same time the list appeared. Oh, I’m not cool or much of an intellectual. I just wanted to read without actually reading, and I had that audiobook, so.) Looots of things have been said about the list. It’s...
What I’m thinking Not gonna lie, I’ve got a lot of vices. One of them is tennis. Bruh. I’ve ridden the highs. The Miracle in Melbourne had me flying about my living room. I’ve felt the crushing lows. I once witnessed a defeat so crushing, I carried physical pain within me as I moved, as if my heart had actually imploded. It was necessary, after all, because it taught me to just watch a lot more casually, enjoy the game, not attach myself to any one player. It doesn’t stop me from talking to myself about it a lot though. And this year’s French Open has left me with so. Much. To talk about. (You’re welcome to scroll away from this section if tennis/ sports talk isn’t your cup of tea, but I will make it quick and keep it nice, so thou mayest humour me and stick around.) In one breath: Most of the favourites have fallen. In a few, much longer exhalations: I did not expect Rounds 1, 2 and 3 to annihilate so many top seeds. With Carlos Alcaraz–one of the top tw...