I read. I write. I spend all together too much time on the internet.
I talk incessantly about books, TV and movies.
I write for Hello Giggles and Huffington Post Books regularly, and tweet frequently as Bookoisseur.
By day, a mild-mannered assistant at My Damn Channel. By night, whatever I can think up.
I found this edition (and those of the trilogy) at my aunt’s last week, and I still can’t decide if 1966 was ugly or bitchin’. What I do know is that the first few pages were laughable, and I no longer intend to read it before seeing and probably loving the movie.