I just finished reading Glaciers, by Alexis Smith. The narrator, Isabel, is such a fragile flower, and while I’m not one by any stretch of the imagination, her life and loves and longings resonated for me in this sweet story.

Because the writing was compared to Virginia Woolf  — which is what enticed me to read it — and as I found a hidden reference to Woolf, I wrote about it in my post, “Woolf Haunts Glaciers“, on Blogging Woolf.

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