Résultats de "Anne Malcom" dans Toutes les catégories

For decades, Janet Malcolm's books and dispatches for the New Yorker and the New York Review of Books poked and prodded at reportorial and biographical convention, gesturing toward the artifice that underpins both public and private selves. In Still Pictures, she turns her gimlet eye on her own life—a task demanding a writer just as peerlessly skillful as she was widely known to be. Still Pictures, then, is not the story of a life but an event on its own terms, an encounter with identity and family photographs as poignant and original as anything since Roland Barthes's Camera Lucida.

I don't know what it's like to feel. To hurt. The ability was stolen from me in my youth. I consider that theft a gift. Feelings got in the way when you were building an empire. Amassing power. I had the empire. I had the power. One moment in an alley changed everything. What took more than a decade to amass was snatched away in a second. He killed for me. But he didn't save me.

My job is to break Piper Matthews. But to leave her breathing afterward. An important distinction, since I don't walk away from a job without blood on my hands. That's how I like it. How it needs to be. I'm comfortable with death. Pain. Cruelty. No conscience troubled me when I took Piper Matthews deep into the Appalachian woods, intending on fracturing her mind, destroying her. I never imagined she would destroy me instead. With her smile. Her laughter.

There's a phrase: Still waters run deep. But there's more to it than that. Because "still" doesn’t denote peace. Nor calm. Nor happiness. It’s an illusion. It's chaos. The only way to handle chaos is to become it. That’s what Lucy did. She created stillness out of the chaos tumbling inside her and called the most chaotic motorcycle club in the United States her family. The Sons of Templar gave her chaos, friendship, family, danger, and death. But she wouldn't want it any other way. Then he came.

Calliope Derrick is in trouble. Not that she'll admit it. She'd sooner go to her grave than ask for help—especially from a man. Wall Street's wolf in heels, Calliope built an empire, shattered egos, and earned a reputation as the woman who made grown men cry in their private jets. But after a betrayal that threatens everything she's worked for, she trades skyscrapers for lighthouses and flees to Jupiter, Maine. She tells her family it's just a break. A vacation. A reset. She's lying. She's here to plot revenge. Not to fall in love.

Eleven stories chronicle the life and times of characters who cross paths and share destiny’s fire escape. Ghosts, gravity, romance, and secrets weave the communal narrative. Step into the elevator. Push any button, but try to remember your way back out. Not everybody makes it.