As bookshelves (and e-readers) continue to groan with knock-offs of Seth Grahame-Smith's knock-off, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, it seems worth asking: are zombies and ninjas the only way to make the novels of previous centuries relevant again?

Why do some 19th-century novelists resemble the pre-2004 Boston Red Sox or some current singers other than Adele? This post will explain!

As New Year's Day nears, it's time for some book-related resolutions!

As a teen and young adult, I managed to polish off some famous books. But, for various reasons, other renowned novels remained tantalizingly in my future.

Sure, we've heard of Proust's Madeleine, that little lemon cookie that packs a punch, and the enticing dinner parties Mrs. Ramsey is known for whippin...

After just finishing The House of Mirth, I'm reminded once again that many great novels don't have happy endings.

How did reading get to be such a faster-pussycat-hurry-up activity? We listen to favorite songs over and over without apology or distraction. They make us feel good, no explanation necessary. But with books, there's this myth that it takes a "long time".

Jane Austen is so popular these days she's probably been a write-in candidate in more than one election. Who knows, she might even have won some of them. I'd vote for her.

The wish for fame, so illusory a thing, can kill you. Or at least, it can kill your novel.

I realize that continuing to slog through a novel that says "stop reading me" after 100 pages may pay dividends when I reach the end of the book. Dense can turn into sophisticated, confusing into illuminating.

They were unplanned "Five-Year Plans" for the ages: the amazing proliferation of classic novels published from 1846 to 1851 and from 1922 to 1927. And, believe it or not, one author had a book in both those periods!

In response to the Republic, Mo., school board's controversial decision last week to remove "Slaughterhouse-Five" from its high school library and cur...