Danielle Mohlman

Often mistaking books for boyfriends. Always writing plays.

#28: Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel

It was no Life of Pi and yet it felt like a secret, like I was intruding on Martel’s private life.  As though he was the main character and that he had written under a pseudonym and run away to another country with his wife and befriended a taxidermist and learned that writing is hard.  So I’m going to pretend that that’s true.  Because a new commute and a new job and a new book from a familiar author just go so well together.  

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