Ever dropped by Writers are Readers? If not, now is as good a time as any, because I have a new review posted! No, not for one of my books. For a book I’ve read, A WOLF AT THE TABLE: A Memoir of My Father, by Augusten Burroughs.
I won’t post the review here, because the whole point of Writers are Readers is to get you to go over there to read the reviews, ooh and ahh over the fact that the cover for BORROWING ALEX is up on my reviewer page—and an excerpt from the middle of BORROWING ALEX is also posted. It’s from one of my favorite scenes in the book. Thank you to Katherine Stone for finding and posting the excerpt when I was too lazy to find it myself.
But enough about me. I loved A WOLF AT THE TABLE. And I love, love, love the cover:
Maybe I’m warped, but the red fork reminds me of Little Red Riding Hood (I’m sure the word Wolf in the title has something to do with that). In my mind, the bent tines invoke the image of a wolf (like its hair standing on end right before it attacks you) (or its claws…hm, almost like the claws you’d, well, I’d imagine the witch from Hansel and Gretel possessing), while also symbolizing the mutant soul that was the author’s experience of his father.
What does it say about me that I love such a disturbing cover?
What does the fork symbolize to you?
Well, it’s Federal election day in the Great White North (that’s when we vote for Members of Parliament for our individual ridings and the party with the greatest number of seats across the board, their leader becomes or remains our Prime Minister). Usually, Canada’s fate is sealed before my province’s votes are counted. It’s a Time Zone issue. And an all-the-population-lives-in-Central-Canada issue. But I must do my part! I must go vote regardless.