Ok, Every Day in the Morning (Slow) scans like poetry but claims to be fiction, or reads like fiction but sounds like monologue, or looks like nothing I’ve ever seen and reads like the voice in my head, or sounds like a poetically arranged first fiction laid out as a musical score, note to note to note across the page and breath and breath and breadth.
The physical experience of reading the book. Seated in the cafeteria at the College on lunch break, I flatten the book open on it’s spine to read the words printed at the very edge of each margin on each page. Every
(Slow) is the opposite of the blog: There is space. There is time. There is room to consider. There are no hyperlinks. There are no distractions. There is the word and the note and the voice and the man and the woman and the father and
Not a bore never a bore a book best read in one sitting (slow).
Nikki Reimer, author of [sic], lives in East Vancouver.