Reading, Writing

The Monster In Jack.

It's been a cold winter for Toronto, with wind frigid enough to freeze your nostrils together. Perfect weather to bundle up under a warm blanket, sip on some canned hot chocolate (because let's be real, I'll probably NEVER make anything from scratch ever), and read a cheery tale of mayhem and murder at the behest… Continue reading The Monster In Jack.

Reading, Writing

Twenty Books In 2015

It feels like I've been reading for a million years. I was one of those weirdos in school sitting by the fence, nose buried constantly in a book, hardly ever speaking or making direct eye contact with other people. By the time I was in second grade, I was reading at a twelfth grade level,… Continue reading Twenty Books In 2015