Let’s take a look back at the week that was, here at Book Riot . . .
Literature loves metaphors. But a great costume takes the metaphorical and interprets it without much thought for subtlety. Here are some suggestions for literary costumes from not-so-symbolic novel title interpretations.
from Literal Literary Halloween Costumes by Jessica Woodbury
Do you get things done? Are you productive? Can you easily avoid the internet’s tempting and constant invitation to goof off? Do repetitive questions annoy you?
Then consider this your ultimate test.
Here are 33 bookish trivia games from Sporcle. Tread carefully. One minute you’re settling down to a fun Dickens quiz, and next thing you know, your house looks like Ms. Havisham’s. You’ve been warned.
from The Ultimate Book Trivia Challenge by Josh Corman
from Book Fetish: Volume 131 by Rachel Manwill
Have you seen Literary Starbucks yet? It’s rad, so rad that it reached 10,000 followers in just about a month. My first thought was, “I wish this had been my idea.” Basically, each post details what would happen if famous authors or characters ordered at Starbucks. Simple, but executed perfectly.
from Sites We Like: Literary Starbucks by Jeanette
Everyone knows the typical romance hero. Brooding, possessive, domineering. A man who pines for the heroine so hard that it physically pains him to the point where he should see a doctor. Or maybe a psychiatrist. We call this an Alpha, as in Alpha male (not exhaustive for just werewolves, by the way). Or if you’re feeling colorful, an Alphole. But these types, while they may make up the bulk of romance heroes, are not the only ones out there.
Behold the Betas.
from Romance 101: Beta Heroes by Amanda Diehl
Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run ?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school-boys and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
What Johnny was trying to say
Maybe if I toss the alarm clock into the woodchipper and close the blinds, the sun will harass other people so we can cuddle some more, baby. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m sure it’ll work this time.
from Call Me, Maybe: Modern Interpretations of Renaissance Poetry by Rachel Cordasco