I love books. Stories, really, but particularly in written form. I don’t know why I have such a preference for reading over watching or hearing, but I do. (My hierarchy is probably reading > hearing > watching, when it comes to fiction.)

Every now and again, a particular story comes along that really moves me. And Octavia Butler’s Kindred is one of them.

This is an old book. Thirty-five years old. It appears it’s been chosen as a school text for many of the years it’s been around. Still, I’d never read it or heard of Butler until this year. And based on what I heard of her, I bought every work of hers I could get my hands on at Powell’s in May.

I haven’t read them all, though I’m working on it.… Continue reading →