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Tag: Cordelia Fine

‘Tis the season for NPR Book Concierge!: A links round-up

Despite what I may say about the Millions Book Preview (and I do love the Millions Book Preview), the NPR Book Concierge is the true most happiest time of my bookish year. They’ve produced another good one this year, with more books by native authors than maybe I’ve ever seen before. Good job, NPR! Disney princesses reimagined as cement mixers. Here’s what’s going on at Tumblr. Period-tracking apps benefit men, and marketers, and medical companies–not women. What it’s like hearing Anne Carson lecture. This journalist went to a Scholastic book fair and didn’t find it as magical as she remembered…

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2017 Reading in Review

Well, 2017 was awful. And Trump’s still going to be president in 2018, so my hopes for the upcoming year are not that high. On the other hand, I’ve reached a sort of equilibrium with the family members who dumped me, so I won’t have to relitigate that whole mess in the upcoming year (said Jenny optimistically). And I’ve seen so much bravery and ferocity from people I know: Y’all stay inspiring me. With that said, I had a pretty terrific reading year in 2017. I encountered some new instant favorites, books I loved so much I shoved them at…

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Review: Testosterone Rex, Cordelia Fine

Note: I received this book from the publisher for review consideration. This did not affect the content of my review. The book is just so honestly extraordinarily good. Before I read Delusions of Gender, Cordelia Fine’s last book before Testosterone Rex, I thought that I had a pretty good grip on what it would contain, given that I already agreed with her arguments; and then when I actually did read it, it blew my mind straight out of the back of my skull and onto the wall behind me, and that was five years ago and I’ve been tucking splattery…

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Review: Delusions of Gender, Cordelia Fine

Before we get to the excellent Delusions of Gender, which I can’t believe it took me so long to read, a word about my blogging habits. I have been (sing it with me if you know the words) the worst blogger ever. My commute, while not bad for New York, is a time-killer, I’m trying very hard to be as social a butterfly as my introverty brain and publishing job budget will permit me, and recently I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to learn to pronounce Russian personal pronouns. They are harder to pronounce than you’d think. All…

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