<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8752624483124651855</id><updated>2011-07-08T06:57:12.897-07:00</updated><category term='review'/><title type='text'>Withenay Words and Witterings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Catharine Withenay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06936767499911371984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/STUHbp_HGaI/AAAAAAAAABY/xJlBmyRbRsM/S220/j0233069.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8752624483124651855.post-6927753476727136141</id><published>2011-03-09T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T03:19:32.755-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>The hand that first held mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://217.169.40.204/websites/images/store/books-143/9780755308460-1-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://217.169.40.204/websites/images/store/books-143/9780755308460-1-3.jpg" width="130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The more I write, the more I appreciate the art of others' writing: how to draw the reader in, how to avoid adverbs, how to create movement, passion or tension.&amp;nbsp;In Maggie O'Farrell's&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;The hand that first held mine&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I was reading the work of a master craftsman.&amp;nbsp;I was gripped from the first paragraph, from the first word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Listen. The trees in this story are stirring, trembling, readjusting themselves. A breeze is coming in gusts off the sea, and it is as if the trees know, in their restlessness, in their head-tossing impatience, that something is about to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The story is split between the 1950s and the present day, between the vivacious Lexie striking out in 1950's bohemian Soho, London, and Ted &amp;amp; Elina's struggles with the birth of their firstborn child. They are linked, but only as the plot slowly unfolds do we piece together their combined histories. It is a story of love, of motherhood, of maternal obsession and passion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;To an extent, we know what will happen. We know there is some link. I assumed Lexie was related (mother? grandmother?) from the start, yet I think much of the art of this story is that I still wanted to know more, I still wanted to know when events would happen, how they fitted in. The characters were rich and believable, the narrative tracing the passage of time, tying all the people and places together in the seamless way that history evolves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I read this for a local book group and was concerned that the week I had given myself might not be enough. However I could not put the book down. I even woke at 4am on Sunday morning wondering whether Ted was going to talk to Elina or not - and had to pick the book up again to find out!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I long to be able to write like this, drawing pictures with a minimum of words, crafting a story that tantalises and excites. I have been told that other books by Maggie O'Farrell are even better, so they are already added to my wishlist. I can thoroughly recommend reading it - do let me know what you think!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The hand that first held mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;by Maggie O'Farrell, published by&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.headline.co.uk/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Headline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Support your local bookshop or library!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8752624483124651855-6927753476727136141?l=wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/feeds/6927753476727136141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2011/03/hand-that-first-held-mine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/6927753476727136141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/6927753476727136141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2011/03/hand-that-first-held-mine.html' title='The hand that first held mine'/><author><name>Catharine Withenay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06936767499911371984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/STUHbp_HGaI/AAAAAAAAABY/xJlBmyRbRsM/S220/j0233069.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8752624483124651855.post-3623141617626681552</id><published>2009-11-05T01:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T01:26:37.120-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Heaven Can Wait</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SvPrNRhRZbI/AAAAAAAAAL4/u8XVrWOospM/s1600-h/heaven+can+wait+cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SvPrNRhRZbI/AAAAAAAAAL4/u8XVrWOospM/s200/heaven+can+wait+cover.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400918991421138354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heaven Can Wait&lt;/b&gt; by Cally Taylor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't normally admit to reading chick lit... but I do. I find it escapist and, usually, funny, as I laugh at the mess the heroine (usually) finds herself in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In Heaven Can Wait the heroine is in a mess because she is dead. Lucy Brown suffers a fatal accident the night before her wedding, and then has the choice to go to heaven forever or become a ghost so she cannot be separated from her true love, Dan. But in order to do &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;, she must find true love for a complete stranger ... and then she discovers her best friend is making a move on Dan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Heaven Can Wait is delightful and refreshing because of its originality. Who would have thought of romance beyond the grave? Who would think of a 21 day challenge in order to stay with their true love? Who would place such an odd mix of people together and make it work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, Cally Taylor did, and the result is a vibrant book of love and adventure and, thankfully, funny. And I think I laughed in all the right places. I would thoroughly recommend it as a light read - but beware! You may not be able to put it down!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Heaven Can Wait by Cally Taylor can be bought &lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Heaven-Can-Wait-Cally-Taylor/dp/1409103234/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1257499523&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;&lt;i&gt;here&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt; or at all good bookshops.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8752624483124651855-3623141617626681552?l=wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/feeds/3623141617626681552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/11/heaven-can-wait.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/3623141617626681552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/3623141617626681552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/11/heaven-can-wait.html' title='Heaven Can Wait'/><author><name>Catharine Withenay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06936767499911371984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/STUHbp_HGaI/AAAAAAAAABY/xJlBmyRbRsM/S220/j0233069.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SvPrNRhRZbI/AAAAAAAAAL4/u8XVrWOospM/s72-c/heaven+can+wait+cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8752624483124651855.post-7440020388719319989</id><published>2009-09-18T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T04:34:57.022-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Book Review: Jonathan Strange &amp; Mr Norrell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SugrQHkCy4I/AAAAAAAAALQ/QmFdLTvL63M/s1600-h/JonathanStrange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SugrQHkCy4I/AAAAAAAAALQ/QmFdLTvL63M/s320/JonathanStrange.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397611709311667074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jonathan Strange &amp;amp; Mr Norrell &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;by Susanna Clarke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was given this book for Christmas several years ago - I know, it sat on our bookshelves in Zambia for an age. I kept putting it off because I wasn’t sure about the subject matter and it is awfully thick. I was prompted to review my dismissal of it by being given Susanna Clarke’s second book (The Ladies of Grace Adieu) as a present: I may be slow, but I’ve taken the hint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Length should be ignored. My son was busy reading the longest Harry Potter book at the same time and we were competing for number of pages read, both glued to our novels in our independent ways. JS &amp;amp; Mr N is 1006 pages of pure delight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The story begins in 1806, concentrating initially on Mr Norrell’s aim to be the only magician in England. He is s fusty old man, largely a recluse who struggles with his move to the fast-paced, social city of London. He believes everything can be learnt from books and protects his vast library at whatever cost. His position as the only magician is challenged by the arrival of Jonathan Strange: young, handsome and daring. It is a tale of fantasy and magic, history and prophecy, politics and personalities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From the start, the writing draws you into the age and I love the way Susanna misspells words in an old-fashioned way, truly helping you feel you are living through a book written at the time. Being from York myself, I was drawn in by the initial chapters based in the city and the magic taking place in York Minster, but the book travels up and down the country, and indeed to France, Spain, Portugal and Italy, and to the Underworld: to other kings and queens, to ballrooms and eternal melancholy, to fantastical worlds of light and darkness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is a superb book that I would recommend to anyone. The only problem is that it had to end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jonathan Strange &amp;amp; Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke can be bought &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Jonathan-Strange-Norrell-Susanna-Clarke/dp/0747579881/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1256729331&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; or at any good bookshop, or find it in your local library.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8752624483124651855-7440020388719319989?l=wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/feeds/7440020388719319989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/09/book-review-jonathan-strange-mr-norrell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/7440020388719319989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/7440020388719319989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/09/book-review-jonathan-strange-mr-norrell.html' title='Book Review: Jonathan Strange &amp; Mr Norrell'/><author><name>Catharine Withenay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06936767499911371984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/STUHbp_HGaI/AAAAAAAAABY/xJlBmyRbRsM/S220/j0233069.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/SugrQHkCy4I/AAAAAAAAALQ/QmFdLTvL63M/s72-c/JonathanStrange.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8752624483124651855.post-8749547779366880894</id><published>2009-05-04T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T12:59:32.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Book Review: Zoia's Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/Sf9I94XyROI/AAAAAAAAAFY/X1HjSpccwmI/s1600-h/Zoia%27s+Gold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/Sf9I94XyROI/AAAAAAAAAFY/X1HjSpccwmI/s320/Zoia%27s+Gold.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332060711771325666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zoia’s Gold&lt;/span&gt; by Philip Sington&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcus Elliott, an art dealer who has lost his wife and his business and is in danger of losing custody of his daughter, is invited to write the catalogue for a sale of Zoia’s work in Russia. Travelling to her snow-bound Swedish home he is immersed, even obsessed, by his research through her many love letters and correspondence left after her death the previous year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcus is fictional, but Zoia is real. Known as the “painter on gold” she was the last-known survivor of the Romanov court. Her father and stepfather died in World War I and she escaped with her mother to Moscow post-Revolution. She was imprisoned in Lubyanka, but was saved by a Swedish Communist, who was to become her second husband. She led a bohemian life, scattered with lovers and admirers across Europe. Her great accomplishment was to master the art of painting on gold, producing works with have an amazing luminescence and detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book elegantly merges together fact and fiction, quoting directly from letters Zoia left and interweaving the resolution of Marcus’ past: his failed marriage, his mother’s death and his collapsed business. The book is pacey and mysterious, a fascinating insight into the real life of an enigmatic artist as well as the psychological mess that ties up the fictional Marcus. It is a masterpiece of fact and fiction creating a wholly believable story and highlighting a largely unknown 20th century artist. All together an exciting and worthy read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Available from &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Zoias-Gold-Novel-Philip-Sington/dp/0743291107"&gt;Amazon,&lt;/a&gt; your bookshop or your local library!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8752624483124651855-8749547779366880894?l=wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/feeds/8749547779366880894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-review-zoias-gold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/8749547779366880894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8752624483124651855/posts/default/8749547779366880894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wordsandwitterings.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-review-zoias-gold.html' title='Book Review: Zoia&apos;s Gold'/><author><name>Catharine Withenay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06936767499911371984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/STUHbp_HGaI/AAAAAAAAABY/xJlBmyRbRsM/S220/j0233069.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0YTgoDpfcjw/Sf9I94XyROI/AAAAAAAAAFY/X1HjSpccwmI/s72-c/Zoia%27s+Gold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
