My Name Is Red: Orhan Pamuk

There are books that you are unsure about the beauty of while reading. But like the smell of coffee they stick to your clothes exuding a certain effect that affects others but leaves the wearer oblivious. Such I think is the effect "My Name is Red" had on me. I like to think I have an opinion... Continue Reading →

1/3 Murakami, 1/3 Johnson, 2/3 Rain

1/3 rd Murakami There is an Indian author named Chetan Bhagat. A newly popular writer with simplistic stereotypical stories that do not warrant much attention other than to calibrate maturity levels of readers. Not exactly the deepest fellow doing the rounds in Indian Literature, if you catch my drift. Haruki Murakami reminds me of Chetan Bhagat. Emo kids, mysterious... Continue Reading →

Slaughter House 5

Kurt Vonnegut bases his cult novel Slaughter House 5 on the premise that no one should write about massacre with relish. He writes with flourish, introduces layering and quirkiness but there is no love for the subject. So he is true to his word. But in doing that did he pre empt his own failure?Since... Continue Reading →

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my love affair with Russian literature

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Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue

Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue is a lesfic author at amzn.to/36DFT2x. Sign-up for her newsletter at higginbothampublications.com

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