Tag Archives: writing

A review of The scribe of Siena by Melodie Winawer

I was extremely glad i received the email from Jellybooks that enabled me to read this book. For those who didn’t see my last post, Jellybooks is a company that collects reading data and gives readers the option to choose one of several books to read. I’s so glad I chose this book.

I love historical fiction, especially when they involve an element of time travel. I’m really glad that the description of this book drew me in and that I chose I among all others. That’s 2 for 2 with the Jellybooks! (Yeaaaahhhh).

The title of this book aptly if not broadly describes the content of the book (not!). It does and it doesn’t, but isn’t that the fun of titles. The novel features Beatrice, named after the Dante’s lady, and an artist named Gabriele (Gab-re-eleh). Beatrice while in Siena following the trail of her brother’s, Ben, research falls through time to medicinal 1300 Siena. A land of deep flavors and intrigue. There she finds a city that welcomes her, finds new love and family, and all before the Black plague fills the city with death. But why does Siena fare worse than other italian communes?

I’m just going to throw in some spoilers. I love that Beatrice got to have her modern amenities, and that she said goodbye in many ways, and I especially loved that epilogue. I’m going to miss the story.

It’s pretty clear that I loved this book. I’ll definitely give it a five-star rating, and would definitely recommend it to my friends.

You should definitely buy/ pre-order it!


What writing is like for me

It’s like I’m feeling my way through the darkness
to the heart
my blind gaze searching with my ghostly arms
feeling the way ahead for me
and then I encounter it,
The heart,
and my ghostly arms go through it
taking away some of it
opening it, and the feelings pour through,
The magic, and then I write
rote becoming something else,  something frantic and magical
the words coming faster than I can write them,
and some other times, my ghostly arms,
they encounter the heart so hard and so fast that they are solid for a second,
they pull it with them for a second
Leaving my elastic heart to snap back in place.
I feel it.
The hurt, the pain, waves of critical malady bleeding through,
reaching out and embedding themselves in my words
I’m coming through in a torrent that is beyond magic
A torrent that is wholly me, all me,
so much so that I want to hide it,
put it all back
and sew the valve shut.
Those are the best words
Maybe the worst parts of me
The ones I write and shut away.