Diving Belles & secondhand treasures

I've not read many short stories since my paper writing school days, but I'm remembering why I love them well. Short and sweet is certainly the speed of life now with its stolen kisses and one thousand blurry photos of littles on the move.

Diving Belles is a glorious first foray back into the genre. The debut offering of Lucy Wood, just twenty-six, is a lush and lovely bit of magical realism. (What was I doing at twenty-six? Oh yes. Latte-slinging. Again.) 

Wood's stories converge along the coast of Cornwall, and the sea looms large, a character almost in its own right. Mythical and ancient lore undergird each story. Ghosts and spirits. Mermaids. Talking birds. Invisible lovers. Enchanted houses. Shape-shifters and giants. Fanciful and strangely ordinary at all once, Diving Belles was as perfect to read on a warm beach as wrapped in down on a rainy day.

In the volume's final tale, Wood introduces the reader to drolls, mythical storytellers according to Cornwallian folklore. In Diving Belles, Lucy Wood (herself from Cornwall), proves that she has the storytelling chops to spin new tales from old threads in a manner that is familiar and fresh, a little haunted, and wholly charming.

Anyone want my (worn, somewhat sandy) copy? Leave a comment about your favorite short story or something along such literary lines, and I'll pick a winner at random on Friday, September 21.

Review copy provided by TLC Book Tours. Opinions mine. As per always;)

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