Everyone has a slightly different version of which tasks they consider their responsibilities and which tasks they feel like they have been tricked into doing themselves.
Being broke isn’t always hilarious, obviously, often it’s terrifying, but I do think you have to step back and try and gain some sort of perspective about the things you’re experiencing, and knowing when to laugh is crucial.
The One-page Financial Plan, which I received as a complimentary review copy, is written for a very specific type of person: the middle to upper-middle class professional who wants to change money habits to achieve family-related goals.
Jillian Capewell at Bustle has compiled a list of great, escapist career memoirs.
I approached a worn copy of E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey with the hopes that the book would be willing to give me an honest interview.
It’s not easy to tell that Hagrid is in his 80s. Giants are notoriously long-lived, but Hagrid is only half giant. He is beginning to feel his age, mostly around his knees.
Every question they asked about his goats was a question they weren’t asking about Ariana. Or about Gellert Grindelwald and Albus. Or about the secret passageway under the bar. Or about what happened to the money in the till, when the night was over.
Counterpoint Press sent me an advance copy of Karen Bender’s new book Refund and I will tell you right away that—to borrow the cliché—I couldn’t put it down.
When Arabella moved to the house on Wisteria Walk she began referring to herself as Mrs. Figg; of course she never said anything to Dumbledore about it, since she never had to re-introduce herself to him the way she had to establish her history among the neighbors—just say Mrs., look a bit sad sometimes, they’ll come to their own conclusions—but the owls started arriving late at night addressed to Mrs. Arabella Figg all the same.
When the owl arrived, bearing an envelope on Daily Prophet stationery, Anthony Goldstein already knew what was inside. He got the same letter every year, every time one of the Prophet reporters remembered to check a Muggle calendar and figure out when Hanukkah was. This year, they didn’t even send the note until the third night, which was why the owl stayed at Anthony’s windowsill, quietly preening and watching him as it waited for his response.
Minerva keeps neat ledgers; a tap of her wand against the page and the numbers fly from one column to another, ordering themselves like birds on wires.
After everything settled, though settling wasn’t exactly the right word, most of Dumbledore’s Army went home to their families. Susan went back to an empty house.