By Anna Quindlen
NEW YORK occasions BESTSELLER
A exceptional love tale from Anna Quindlen, the #1 ny Times bestselling writer of upward push and Shine, benefits, and a brief consultant to a cheerful Life
Still lifestyles with Bread Crumbs starts with an imagined gunshot and ends with a brand new tin roof. among the 2 is a wry and understanding portrait of Rebecca iciness, a photographer whose paintings made her an not likely heroine for lots of girls. Her occupation is now descendent, her financial institution stability shaky, and she or he has fled town for the center of nowhere. There she discovers, in a tree stand with a roof craftsman named Jim Bates, that what she sees via a digicam lens isn't all there's to life.
Brilliantly written, powerfully saw, Still lifestyles with Bread Crumbs is a deeply relocating and sometimes very shaggy dog story of unforeseen love, and a stunningly crafted trip into the lifetime of a girl, her middle, her brain, her days, as she discovers that lifestyles is a narrative with many degrees, a narrative that's longer and extra interesting than she ever imagined.
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“There comes a second in each novelist’s profession whilst she . . . ventures into new territory, breaking unfastened right into a marriage of tone and elegance, of plot and characterization, that’s completely her personal. Anna Quindlen’s amazing romantic comedy of manners is simply this type of booklet. . . . Taken as a complete, Quindlen’s writings signify a beneficiant and relocating interrogation of women’s event around the traces of sophistication and race. [Still lifestyles with Bread Crumbs] proves the entire extra relocating due to its mild, subtle humor. Quindlen’s least openly political novel, it packs might be the main critical punch. . . . Quindlen has introduced a unique that would have endurance all its own.”—The big apple occasions e-book Review
“[A] clever story approximately moment probabilities, beginning over, and going after what's most crucial in life.”—Minneapolis Star Tribune
“Quindlen’s astute observations . . . are the kinds of information each author and reader lives for.”—Chicago Tribune
“[Anna] Quindlen’s 7th novel bargains the literary similar of convenience meals. . . . She nonetheless has her finger firmly planted at the pulse of her generation.”—NPR
“Enchanting . . . [The protagonist’s] images are celebrated for turning the ‘minutiae of women’s lives into unforgettable images,’ and Quindlen does an identical the following together with her enveloping, sure-handed storytelling.”—People
“Charming . . . a scorching cup of tea of a narrative, tender and comforting concerning the vulnerabilities of growing old . . . a pleasure.”—USA Today
“With spare, based prose, [Quindlen] crafts a poignant glimpse into the internal lifetime of an getting older lady who discovers that truth comprises even more colour than her personal celebrated black-and-white images.”—Library Journal
“Quindlen has continuously excelled at taking pictures telling info in a narrative, and she or he does so back during this quiet, robust novel, displaying the charged feelings that teem underneath the outside of day-by-day life.”—Publishers Weekly
“Quindlen offers immediately recognizable characters who will be appealingly hot and nonthreatening, yet that merely serves to force domestic her effective message that it’s by no means too overdue to include life’s moment chances.”—Booklist
“Profound . . . engaging.”—Kirkus Reviews
Read or Download Still Life with Bread Crumbs: A Novel PDF
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Extra info for Still Life with Bread Crumbs: A Novel
Within the morning she driven the snow off the surface sill of the window with a dustpan, and hoisted the puppy over the sting. He fell right into a float, and driven his muzzle deep into it. He may perhaps deal with just a couple of steps, doing his company along with his head down as if he used to be ashamed to have so little privateness. She couldn’t understand that it reminded him of all of the occasions he’d hunted for a clean spot to squat while his diversity was once circumscribed by way of a size of chain and a choke collar. He controlled to place his paws at the outdoor sill, and she or he hoisted him in by means of his entrance legs and gave him 1/2 an English muffin. when you consider that she so usually ate at Tea for 2, the negative store-bought muffin used to be a bit challenging at one facet. She positioned the sunshine on less than the inventory back only for the warmth and the odor, placed one other go online the hearth, and learned as she did that the six others stacked within sight have been all she had. there has been an entire wall of wooden opposed to one aspect of the home, cut up and stacked, yet it all was once lower than snow like her vehicle and the snow shovel leaning dead opposed to one wall of the shed. She was once crushed through her personal stupidity and helplessness. She had a cell and a working laptop or computer, neither of which labored during this apartment. someplace a number of miles down the mountain there have been scones, and coffee, and telephone carrier, yet they could besides be in Tibet. Or, she meant, on West Seventy-Sixth highway, which appeared simply as distant. “It has to soften at a few point,” she acknowledged to the puppy, who lifted that one rebellious ear, then laid himself down flat as a throw rug. She labored for a number of distracted hours, reprinting extra of the pass photos, the pictures taken from assorted angles. For an hour after lunch she took images of the puppy, the difficult scarred pads of his paws, the tough fur of his again, eventually his face, full-on. He appeared to comprehend his functionality; he cocked his head, grew to become it a little bit, raised a forehead like a caricature personality. without one to listen to her yet him, Rebecca stated, “This is what it’s come to. Birds and canines. subsequent i'll be capturing weddings. i'll be operating for a studio that takes the highschool commencement photographs. ” The puppy listened rigorously. He cherished it greater while she used to be no longer unsatisfied. earlier than 4 o’clock, with speedy glints and the asthmatic wheeze of the previous fridge, the facility went off, and within the half-light she closed her eyes and sighed. “Candles,” she acknowledged. yet there have been none. after all. this can be HOW this stuff ensue, half For the remainder of her existence Rebecca wintry weather could recognize the rumble of a truck engine in deep silence, or something dimly love it, even the rhythmic solo roll of a kettledrum in a symphonic passage, because the soothing sound of salvation. It was once prior dusk by the point she heard it, yet how a ways she couldn't have acknowledged. For hours she sat in the dead of night, with not anything to do other than examine issues, in order that her recommendations coated a global journey of matters: even if the go photos have been enigmatic or basically complicated, no matter if her paintings might nonetheless promote back at a little or drastically lowered costs, even if she may possibly promote the hot York house for sufficient cash to survive for the foreseeable destiny, even if Ben will be bereft if she offered it, even if she may possibly undergo to stay outdoors big apple, even if she should still reside towards her father, what the Mary Cassatt was once worthy, what her personal existence was once worthy now that it felt oddly like a person else’s existence.