Fanny Trollope, Anthony’s mother, taught America a thing or two about decency and feminism: her scathing pen wrote books about the excesses of American society and its alienation of women. Over at Bloom, Cynthia Miller Coffel writes about this trailblazing woman who should be considered “the patron saint of middle aged women writers.”
Cee Lo Green will be dropping a memoir in 2013, and his press release reads like something that's gone through four different spins in Google translator: "Talk about art imitating life? Enter into the super-natural, the surreal and the extra-ordinary that is [Cee Lo Green.] Do you think this is by chance? CRAZY? FORGET YOU? After reading this book, there will be no doubt that I am meant to be. CEELO GREEN A.K.A ‘everybody's brother’ will make you a believer, not only in me, but also...yourself."
Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita is one of those rare few classic novels that translates well to the big screen. To some extent, this was intentional -- Nabokov often wrote fiction with an eye to selling film rights. John Colapinto writes about the author’s relationship with the cinema over at Page-Turner. You could also read our own Lydia Kiesling’s Modern Library Revue of Lolita.
In "kids these days" news, any book now counts as a "novel." There are fiction novels and nonfiction novels, recipe novels and poetry novels and picture novels and, less facetiously, a new novel told in letters of recommendation, Julie Schumacher's Dear Committee Members. And now that you've finished my three-sentence nonfiction digital novel, here's the world's longest novel, which clocks in at 3 million pages that I confess I have not read.