Hooked On Books

09/09/2026

I think this is such a perfect statement!

Sometimes I remember a scene from a book that has stayed with me for decades even though I can't remember the title.

09/05/2026

Before they became one of America’s most famous literary couples, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald were young, ambitious, and determined to build extraordinary lives.

Scott would eventually write The Great Gatsby.

Zelda was a talented writer, painter, and dancer who wanted recognition for her own creativity.

Together, they became symbols of the Jazz Age.

But their marriage was far more complicated than the glamorous photographs suggested.

Scott struggled with insecurity and alcoholism, while Zelda increasingly wanted something that was difficult for her husband to accept.

An artistic identity of her own.

Scott drew heavily from the world around him when writing.

And Zelda's experiences, conversations, letters, and personality inevitably became part of that world.

Scholars have identified passages and details in Scott's novels that closely resemble material from Zelda's writings and conversations.

Zelda herself recognized the irony.

In a playful review of The Beautiful and Damned, she joked about similarities between the book and her own life.

But beneath the humor was a serious question.

Whose story was it?

As Zelda became more determined to create independently, the tension intensified.

She began pursuing ballet seriously in the late 1920s and eventually wrote her own novel, Save Me the Waltz.

The book drew heavily from her experiences.

That created a fierce conflict with Scott, who was simultaneously working on Tender Is the Night and was also drawing on aspects of their shared life.

Their arguments became increasingly bitter.

Scott criticized Zelda's writing and ballet ambitions, while Zelda resented the way her identity seemed to disappear behind her husband's literary reputation.

Then Zelda's mental health deteriorated.

She experienced severe psychological difficulties and spent long periods receiving treatment in psychiatric hospitals and sanitariums.

It is important, however, not to reduce what happened to a simple story in which Scott deliberately "locked her away."

Zelda's hospitalizations were connected to serious mental illness, and the medical understanding of those conditions at the time was very different from today.

Scott certainly influenced decisions surrounding her treatment, and their relationship during these years was deeply troubled.

But her illness cannot simply be explained as something her husband caused.

That distinction matters.

While Zelda spent years in institutions, Scott continued writing and working in Hollywood.

Neither of them escaped the tragedy of their marriage.

Scott's alcoholism damaged his health and career.

Zelda continued creating art despite repeated hospitalizations.

She eventually died in 1948, at the age of 47, when a fire swept through Highland Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina.

Scott died two years later.

He was only 44.

For decades, the Fitzgeralds were remembered largely through the glamorous mythology of the Jazz Age.

But the reality was much sadder.

They were two gifted people who loved each other, competed with each other, inspired each other, and wounded each other.

Scott became one of America's most celebrated novelists.

Zelda's reputation took much longer to recover.

Today, historians and readers increasingly recognize that she was not simply the eccentric wife standing beside a famous writer.

She was an artist in her own right.

And perhaps the tragedy of the Fitzgeralds is that two people with extraordinary creative energy spent so much of their lives fighting over who was allowed to own the story.

09/04/2026

We are saddened by the passing of this great man, but grateful for his presence in our lives!

Rest in peace, Wendell Berry

09/03/2026

09/02/2026

08/31/2026

Today marks 13 years since the passing of our own noble poet and Nobel Laureate, Seamus Heaney.

Reflecting today on my favourite Heaney poem and one which my love of has only deepened as I've grown older. '𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬' is about the appreciation of all those small, seemingly insignificant moments of life; whether washing the dishes with your Mammy when you were wee to driving your wains to football training.

These little moments we share every day are so normal that we don't appreciate them until they're gone. These are the moments we should live for, the memories we can recall with a smile and long for for a while. They are underrated glimpses of pure joy and contentment in the chapters of our lives- moments that resonate even more profoundly in this busy, frenetic world.

You don't have to be an academic or even a great lover of poetry to feel and enjoy Heaney's work. He remains one of the world's greatest poets. He came from here.

08/25/2026

Louise Erdrich grew up between two worlds the daughter of an Ojibwe mother and a German American father, raised on stories, sharpened by her grandfather's years as tribal chairman of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa. Words became her we*pon. She wrote her way into becoming one of America's greatest living novelists, winning the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize.

But in 2007, when the University of North Dakota tried to honor her with a doctorate, she said no. The school still clung to the "Fighting Sioux" mascot, a symbol her people saw as mockery dressed up as tribute. Erdrich would not let her name be used to legitimize it.

No press conference. No demand for applause. Just a quiet, unshakable line she would not cross even for an honor most people would never dream of turning down.

That is what integrity looks like. Not the absence of temptation, but the refusal to bend when no one is forcing you.

Image credit: Wikipedia

08/24/2026

When Herman Hesse was just fifteen years old, he bought a revolver and walked into the woods. Overwhelmed by the crushing expectations of his strictly religious family and rigid schoolmasters, the young man pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed.

That mechanical failure did not just save his life; it completely changed his destiny. It forced him onto a long, painful path toward discovering who he really was.

Herman Hesse grew up in a household where everyone wanted to shape his future. His parents expected him to become a missionary. His teachers demanded that he be a strict scholar.

His pastor pushed him to become a leader in the church.

But Hesse’s spirit rejected their plans.

As a young man, he came to a realization that defined the rest of his journey: "You have to either follow your true passion or learn to love what you end up with." He chose his passion, but the cost was high.

His family sent him to a psychiatric clinic in Stetten, treating his poetic, sensitive nature and rebellion as a form of madness.

Trapped in a cold system that tried to fix him like a broken machine, Hesse wrote letters filled with sharp, honest emotion.

"The very people who claim to be saving my soul are the ones crushing it," he wrote to his father from behind the asylum walls.

He realized early on that society often tries to destroy the exact parts of us that make us unique artists and individuals.

Life continued to test him harshly.

Hesse lived through devastating personal losses, including the death of a child, his first wife's mental breakdown, deep battles with depression, and the horrors of world wars.

Yet, every single trial nourished his writing.

His pain inspired masterpieces like Steppenwolf and Siddhartha, stories that speak directly to anyone who has ever felt like an outsider or struggled to find their own path in a noisy world.

Like Siddhartha, Hesse spent years searching through spiritual teachings, books, and travel, only to discover that deep wisdom cannot simply be taught by someone else.

"Knowledge can be communicated, but not wisdom," he wrote. "One can find it, live it, be fortified by it, do wonders through it, but one cannot utter and teach it." He realized that the ultimate truth is not found in complex theories or rigid rules, but in fully living in the present moment.

"Nothing was, nothing will be; everything has reality and presence," he observed, reminding us that the present is all we truly have.

After a lifetime of searching, suffering, and wandering, what ultimately saved Hermann Hesse was not a secret philosophy or grand achievement. It was something far simpler and warmer. He learned the quiet power of humor and connection. He learned to stop taking the world’s unnecessary drama so seriously and to hold onto what actually matters.

Hesse came to see that being loved is wonderful, but knowing how to truly love others is where real joy lives.

He discovered that living day to day is not enough if we forget how to smile at the beauty around us.

"I had to experience so much stupidity, so many vices, so much sorrow, just in order to become a child again and begin anew."

In the end, Hesse showed us that no matter how dark the valley gets or how heavy the expectations of others feel, light is always waiting for us.

When we learn to let go of the past, stop worrying about the future, and share a genuine smile with someone we care about, we have already found everything we need.

True peace arrives the moment we open our hearts, embrace the present, and laugh together through this beautiful journey of life.

>We Are Human Angels<
Authors
Awakening the Human Spirit

We are the authors of 'We Are Human Angels,' the book that has spread a new vision of the human experience and has been spontaneously translated into 14 languages by readers.

We hope our writing sparks something in you!

08/23/2026