Difference Between Breast Tenderness In Pregnancy

"The web is dead? ... Long live interactivity" (QED)

A small step back on this statement was Chris Anderson in Wired burying the web "to wish long life to the Internet." This statement was debate and it was a treat because it touched digital DNA that is in my opinion interactivity.


To summarize, Chris Anderson is based on the typical day of a geek who runs on the internet but not on the web, that is to say from one device to interaction to another depending on the contexts of use that meeting. "The screen that comes to me and not me who comes to the screen" The device web browser disappearing in favor of other forms of interface. "This statement is evident today, although that sufficiently democratized in use (in any case in France).
Then Chris Anderson supports his speech on the volume percentage of the different formats of content distributed on the internet showing that web content is clearly lower proportion than others. And that's where the controversy swelled up like anything Web continues to grow in parallel.


And after? This statement and the debate that ensued in the sphere of digital enthusiasts less take note of a small death of the web to emphasize that the metamorphosis of the Internet where it should move the scope of analysis, not on content, technology and formats but on the use and interactivity of the new framework resulting ...

The web is dead in the sense that it is no longer the exclusive interface interactivity. The Internet is taking over all forms of interactivity according to the contexts of use and usage.

The web is a way to use the internet. We entered the era Ubimedia. one adds in terms of usage of the Internet sites where content is king (content + browser ubiquity), internet web 2.0 where the conversation is king (+ widgetize social ubiquity), to open at the Internet IRL (including the mobile Internet is the first step), what I call 'Internet Usage friendly "(ubiquity of interactivity).


So I m relies on paradigm of the Internet Context Friendly delivering customized services and conducive to the situation through what might be called a cloud servicial, and featuring all forms of interactivity to the appropriate contexts of use.


And Internet Usage friendly considers the context within 4 corners :
1. ability to adopt a mode of interactivity (devices) adapted to the context (where I am): continuity of screens; "is the screen that comes to me and I no longer come to screen. The screen is protean, interactivity is played multifaceted: it can be embodied in an ecosystem of smart objects, machinery, sensors, actuators, or in space (hyperlink) and well on media in user-medium ...
2. ability to deliver a service or content contextualized in real time: hyperlocal issues, marketing and the situ-commerce and LBS, terms of coverage networks.
3. to provide a service or content remotely: the traditional web, social and real-time (1.0 and 2.0), accessible from anywhere in connection continues
4. and all this hyper-personalized manner.






ps: I know, I ended up repeating myself but it's stronger than me ...

Why Do Women Go Bottomless

Favourites of the literary season, the sequel!

Hello,

I promised you a few extra strokes heart, here. The alien will return, it contains several nuggets that I'm currently reading and you will soon share. In program today, two men two women, four novels.

Claudie Gallay we had embarked after land in the surf. Storm shutters banging in the night, shameful secrets, grudges and broken hearts, his previous novel gave us we want to snuggle under the sheets and listen to the wind howl in the breath from the sea Love is an island, Claudie Gallay speaks again impossible mourning, that of love or a beloved brother. But this time we installed it at the heart of a scorching heat between the walls of the city of Popes. The festival is in full swing, the city was filled with troops and spectators, except that a wind of revolt brewing within the walls: the strike of the entertainment. Of canceled shows are everywhere, others are booed. In the sweltering heat, anger, frustration and hope, Odon Schnadel awaits the return of his great lost love, Matilda Monsols, who left ten years earlier to become the great actress she was promised Being: Jogar. Odo is the director of Mad Dog The Little Theatre and this year he gives a play by Paul Selliès young author died without knowing he had talent. Mary, the sister of the author arrived in Avignon is a small wild animal and skinned alive-gnawing his wounds and bumps his questions unanswered. As in the Déferlantes Claudie Gallay knows how to create a dense atmosphere in which the reader lives the time of the book and its characters are the strength of people we have known and learned to love in another town, another time. That was in Avignon, was in July, he called Odo and passionately loved Matilda. Her name was Mary and knew how to get to live while his brother was dead, she had only the right? She, Matilda, had to choose between his man and his passion to lead all the grueling front, this is the price that it had become itself. And all with the old Isabelle, so deeply in love with life, Youth Theatre and they played there a story of life and death, love and loneliness.

"She thinks of him. She saw the patio, she knew he would, at some point he would be there for her to wait.

She drinks her tea.

Last summer, they left Britain. Arrived at St. Malo, they wanted to Guernsey. The moor, the rocks with the waves crashing, and the lights and night. He copied it to a sentence of Baudelaire, "We can not forget the time in using it. She was taped to his back, above his desk in the blue room with Isabelle.

Love does not last. It is an impulse burning fire. She does not want to be nostalgic. Or that, or anything. "

an epigraph from Heart Regular , Olivier Adam placed the sentence of Leonard Cohen:

" There Is A Crack Everything in

That 's how the Light gets in "

That could translate:" Blessed the cracked, they let light through. "

And one feels that Olivier Adam likes to surprise the crack in his characters. The moment when everything collapsed, "and the dike walls, which ended up being naked and trembling. Then from there to accompany the movement shy and brave through which the individual lives just snorts crack off from the ashes, and includes that from this deep wound, it can leach into her light. And Sarah, who makes the death of his brother Nathan that his life has no meaning, and fled to Japan on a whim, leaving a husband is "so perfect, so nice" that she can not stand him and two teenagers who seem to have become strangers. In Japan, at the edge of rugged cliffs which regularly come to lay the desperate, she meets a mysterious and beautiful Dombori Natsume, a former cop who embodies solidarity in a world of increasingly tough and competitive that nobody ' has more time to grieve their dead or to ask why he lives or who he likes. In this superb novel served by writing clear, Olivier Adam confronts us to empty ourselves, to hide the terror that our orderly lives in the warm that pervades everything like a mirror that takes us and eventually take the place of feelings. In a society that severely mistreat those who do not come quietly into the frame, shock just too much for that life becomes unbearable. But while it may approach the cliff, right in the heart dizziness, to test the strength of the thread that connects us to life, which we shall lay his hand on the shoulder and prevent us from jumping? If

touches the depths, Regular The Heart is like a cozy home where you enter the door exhausted, only to discover that you expected, there is a place for you, a meal warm, fraternal care, and you can stay as long as you need it.

"It looked like nobody lived there, it seemed that the house was frozen. I used a first whiskey then another, turn the radio on mute, I feel like a stranger to this place, this house, these streets, I felt that this was invented, created from scratch and had not the slightest connection with me. In those moments, I felt how I was able to drift, I could see materialize before my eyes tight network of son I woven to keep me on the surface, the succession of professional duties, social, romantic, domestic, which gave me a capacity, a job, so I could see clearly the extent of construction, the rudeness of the artifice, from comedy ".

In this season, Alice Ferney has taken the risk to attack the war Algeria, hot topic, with ignored. Took the risk of being in the center of a controversy, which is not his style. The risk of being lynched Read through and in three lines by a journalist Magazine Read that should not have put on his glasses when he traveled, perhaps too quickly glossed . If he had read this novel, it would have avoided accusing the novelist of the cause of the OAS. Because in this case, both accuse American novelists defend the cause of slavery Southerners creating character worthy of empathy! And declare that one can speak of the bombing of Dresden or Hiroshima without marrying Nazi ideology. Alice Ferney not only does not defend the cause of the OAS, but its purpose is not political but human. Here, a confrontation between a character inspired by General de Gaulle and another inspired by Jean-Marie Bastien-Thiry, last shot in France for plotting the attack on the Petit Clamart. In this novel, which is neither a test nor a historical document, the writer looks at Paul Donadieu, idealistic young engineer that his convictions and his sense of honor will push to organize an attack with the OAS, because that it feels betrayed by the General Grandberg. Treason in question, this is not to have opted for the independence of Algeria. This is forcing the French Army in disgrace to abandon the massacre entire populations (settlers and Harker), and "ignored" the sacrifice of these people but do not assume any responsibility. But again, Alice Ferney does not purport to speak Bastien-Thiry, true. If she chose the novel to tell this story is that it allows, through a character, to imagine what drives a man of peace, without history, which has never been an activist, schedule a attack and to sacrifice his life and family happiness on behalf of his convictions. The character of Donadieu, precisely because he is a character, a closer approach to the human truth that would have made a historical document. And if this book is so strong is that his novel form us into the psychological complexity of a time out of the caricature known as honest and humans have been the wrong one day camp, and why. And it works well in the pacification of what remains a raw wound in the history of France and Algeria. So maybe the teeth grind because we scratch the statue of General de Gaulle's character through Grandberg. But is it forbidden to say that a head of state of his caliber was able to Machiavellianism, perjury or cynicism? De Gaulle would it be a secular saint that can not tolerate that hagiographies? It seems to me deserve better. As the novel by Alice Ferney, I urge you to read it because it is strong and poignant, and that you find these same women to love and silent dignity who already inhabited the pages of his great novel, The Elegance Widows :

"The women of your family kept hope in silence. Your stepmother , your sisters, your sisters-in, entered the ancestral role of affection and expectation, which poses as statues peaceful, nurturing and patient, by continuing the daily life around a drama by which children are still cherished and comforted men without either ever told what infinite sky they draw their strength or what, they, comforts. "

To end on a lighter note, I invite you to read a novel and whimsical removed, Sisters Kind Francis Vallejo. Martha, and Judith Sabine Kind, orphaned after the death of their father, decide they do not need a guardian and will amount only. The eldest is an adult, you'll be fine. They find themselves in a strange house in autarky liner that their father, mad with Le Corbusier had built for his family and eke out a living somehow, penniless, in the company of the uncontrollable Grandma Madeleine. Francis Vallejo loves to love, these three sisters who all speak together and do nothing as others. He follows throughout their travels, ranging from Martha loves the sanatorium in Berlin epic that aims to get a husband for Sabine German unlikely with the help of her sisters and her grandmother ... to the passion of Judith for a serial killer. We are in the fifties sixties, the Berlin Wall has been built, and the sisters in advance Kind tightrope over several times, both outdated and decidedly modern, bold and armed with a caustic humor, s 'exasperating to be inseparable. It's an amazing story, where the comedian never makes the economy and the depth where the fantasy always has the last word. Those who love the novels of Muriel Levraud probably will detect affinities between Sisters Kind and work of this novelist.

"You know," said Judith, men do not long with us, they unite women of our family and they die very quickly, often tragically, before he had time to lose head. "

Next time I'll talk to the foreign return. See you soon!

Gaëlle Nohant

What Goes On A Sorority Initiation

What to read at the beginning?

Hello all.

That's it, the shelves of bookstores were filled to the brim of new novels in Sunday clothes, who proudly display their banners, photos of the author, catchy words seeking to attract the attention of Jury Prize as the lightning rod lightning ... Already the stars of the season monopolize the media, even by their absence everywhere ... And in this ocean, the tidal wave, I would not claim to have read everything, or even read enough to claim to embrace the whole. But I immersed myself in thirteen books, and I have identified eight. Eight novels, eight voices of writers, eight stories rustling of this mixture between the private and extimate this mysterious alchemy between oneself and the person who builds a fiction truer than reality. So here we go, I take you on trails sometimes steep, slippery and difficult, but you always come back transformed, touched, moved.

To begin, we ship to New Orleans, do you want. The dark days of Hurricane Katrina. Or rather, just before. Before the storm. When she was in the air like a threat you should know smell, like the old sea wolves Look at this old black woman with half-closed eyes, in his rocking chair on the veranda of his modest home. Her name is Josephine Linc. Steelson, and she knows it. She knows what happens. She knows nothing, after, will never be the same. It is a mixed voices of Hurricane , Laurent Gaude's novel into an opera end of the world, woven of incantations and shattered destinies. Laurent Gaude love broken characters, and reading this book, you can not prove him wrong. Because they are the most beautiful. Those of Hurricane belong to the caste of the poor: a convict, a woman whose life is a failure and a burden on the child, a man who wanted to live the adventure edge of a oil rig and has lost his dreams and his flamboyance, a pastor trend lit ... Hurricane has the strength and power of the storm he invokes, and the breath of the wind will break it all apart in its path, laying bare all, to shake them until their depths, probe what the standing:

"The whole city has buggered off and they left behind which the negroes have their legs to run because those, nobody wants it. We will stay there and come what may. I'm not afraid. I feel it coming. That's good. The men scamper, they are wrong. They should stay to see that their houses are nothing, that their cities are fragile, that their cars are turning downwind. They should stay because everything they have built will be scanned. There will be more money, more commerce and activity. We are not on the scale of what's coming. The wind will blow and he laughs at us, we do not even feel. Rivers overflow and trees crack. Anger that we will come over. That's good. Men who stay and it will be better than others. We will lose everything. We'll hang our poor lives like insects to the branch but we are in the world of naked truth. The wind does not belong to us not. Neither the bayous. Neither the strength of Mississippi. All that we tolerate most often, but sometimes, like today, we must face the wrath of the world that burp. Nature can do more of our presence, we feel the piercing, the search and always dirty. She writhes and contracts with rage. Me, Josephine Linc. Steelson, poor black woman in the middle of the storm, I know that nature will speak. I'll be tiny, but I can not wait, because there's nobility to feel his insignificance, nobility namely a gust of wind can sweep away our lives and leave nothing behind, not even a vague recollection of a little life. "

But this chaos, this work of destruction that seems to work without a god thank you, may remove an item. And what is shattered hope, love, forgiveness, reparation. Keanu Thus, this man who once left the city to test his own strength in the high seas, he returns in the breath of the storm, against the tide of these lines of people fleeing the hurricane. But he forgot that someone out there. A woman. Rose. That absence has made him essential. Like all the other characters in the novel, Keanu has this movement burst of bravado, this movement of resistance and freedom. Make his life something that is not a mess. In Over a haunting Apocalypse emerges the last song of solidarity for the poor, the abandoned, those we forget when the earth shakes when the wind hits and uproot our lives orderly. You will not forget anytime soon.

Marc Dugain interested in troubled periods of history. Already with House Officers , masterful hymn to life, he opened our eyes to humanity fierce broken faces of the Great War. Since then, he continues to auscultate the wounds of history, these moments of convulsion that immerses the individual in his courage when facing dilemmas its the most childish terrors. With Insomnia stars , he takes us in 1945, Germany. While a girl is starving, holed up in his father's farm sent to the Russian front, and became the involuntary witness of a murder, a small French garrison was sent to a town without history, in order to reduce the order of the winners in the footsteps of the Allied armies. At its head was a captain too human for the army. In civilian life, Captain Louyre was an astronomer. This means he can observe the almost imperceptible. And while his men are bored enough to die in this town full of losers from withdrawn and hostile, he wondered. Detected in the atmosphere something heavy, scary. A knot of lies, concealment concerted. He will not rest until this secret drill that thickens the air around him. In this novel with touches of the police investigation, where the tension rises as the investigation progresses, the camera and stripped decor, served by a clear writing, highlight the density of the feelings, the opacity of consciousness purchased, while pulsing the little flame of Captain Louyre, which claims itself to illuminate the abyss, on behalf of the dignity of man. A beautiful novel.

"- Looking for a truth?

Louyre sprang at once to signify the end of the interview.

- No truth in the philosophical sense of the term, I'm much more modest than that I am seeking to solve the riddle of murder.

The doctor laughed.

- A murder in a war that claimed millions of lives?

- Exactly, everyone has the right respect and a bit of truth, even if he is drowning in a sea of blood. "

You know Mathias Enard from his novel-UFO Zone. In Tell them about battles, kings and elephants , the novelist gives us a different partition. This novel set with short chapters like so many gems brings us back to poetry, his singular way, summarized and subtle understanding of the world. It is a mesmerizing novel takes us through a change inspired by a fact of history: May 13, 1506, fleeing the wrath of Julius II, Pope warrior and deadbeat who does hunt for abandoning the construction of his tomb Roman Michelangelo accepted the invitation of Sultan Bajazet (Bayazid). He embarked for Constantinople in order to build a bridge between East and West, between Old Town and the suburb of Pera. A bridge across the Bosphorus, spanning the Golden Horn. A bridge that would be both a work of art and political act. This immersion in a foreign land as fascinating and could only feed an artist of the caliber of Michelangelo. The move, move him. Raise doubts, too, sculptor steeped in pride and sure of his talent. Golds from Hagia Sophia to spell nights in the taverns of Pera, Michelangelo confuse, lost and found. Seduced by the Byzantine civilization, by the Ottomans, these "masters of light" he lets himself through the beauty while taking shape, as in Rome, as everywhere, a confrontation with the monarch. As if life was just beginning, as if the Caesars, where they are enthroned, could not love the artist only if they humble themselves before them.

"In recrossing the Golden Horn, Michelangelo's vision of its bridge, floating in the morning sun, so true that he has tears in his eyes. The building will be huge without imposing fine and powerful. As if the evening had unsealed lids and sent his certainty, drawing it finally appears.

He returned almost running to ask this idea on paper, pen strokes, shading to white with red highlights. Sprung from a bridge at night, steeped in the material of the city. "

Through this journey between East and West, between the rocking past civilizations mingled and uncertainty of this, is the portrait of an artist capable of capturing the beauty wherever it lies wild in the struggle for independence and relentless in his hatred, but also a lonely man terrified of the emotion that puts him in danger.

"Maybe you're right. Perhaps the best of childhood is this stubborn rage that makes us break the wooden castle if not perfect, according to our desires. Perhaps your genius blinds there. I'm nothing next to you, for sure. You make me tremble. I feel the dark force that will destroy everything in its path, destroying everything in its certainties. "

Remember, there was more than four years. Wedding cake , the first novel by Blandine Le Callet, has become a delightful surprise, bittersweet confection with a scalpel and look at a marriage collar-mounted. With embedded in the custard, this peak arsenic for flavor. Now she returns this summer with "The walk Lila K", a novel radically different. We are in a near future in a society that could be the future of our own: ultra safe and cozy, governed by a benevolent tyranny which means you still care for you, fliquer your every move, your inner turmoil, you force them to eat well, to make love on set dates, erase everything outside, and make you an individual smooth, obedient, operational, never depressed, issued the doubt. Hell is paved with good intentions, it is known. Admission in this world, Lila begins with a scene of incredible brutality. It is hard for her mother, one takes her mother in handcuffs. Howling, suffering. Then silence. We installed the child in the center, which takes place hybrid of the reformatory, hospital and school. It is a cry back in the groove. But being a gifted little girl, she'll learn to pretend. To provide proof of normality, obedience. His goal, escape, find her mother, and with it the memory of his early years of his childhood. On her way, she encounters a few characters more or less benevolent: an unconventional teacher, an obedient cog in the system, a library director, a warehouse full of scars ... Chilling odyssey which reflected the excesses of our time, gasping novel, deeply moving story of love, Lila K The walk is all that and more. And given the outcome, I can only applaud the courage of a novelist who did not hesitate, when his second novel, to take the risk to explore an area so different from the world of his first novel. A success.

"I kept my eyes tightly closed, not to distract me. There are moments need to know to enter without asking any questions. Tighten its Luckily, when present even more than expected, to embrace all his strength. "

The rest of my favorite heart to the next post. Until then, happy reading and see you soon!

Gaëlle Nohant

Oxford Pocket Thes Register

My favorite summer

I was not going to let you go on vacation without weighing your luggage some advice reading biased and personal. I do not go anywhere without ever having provided three times too many books, so I'm afraid to miss. And if it rained ten days in a row? And if everything crashes and there is more than reading the candle to decorate this uncertain time we reached a state of advanced fatigue, hoping to leave repaired, restored to Be yourself? I think a good book is a journey soothing, repairing, yes. Who shakes you at times but also knows how to comfort you, make you laugh and move you at the same time, as a good friend who you would invite to dinner, seeing your mine burial. My criteria for selection? Totally subjective. It's a little chance to have entered on my PAL (the Tower of Pisa, as I call it) rather than the latter one, but if I kept it in hand, is that he took me where I did not expect like an answered prayer that is not the be made. I prefer, of course, the plot takes hold of me and falling into history as an Alice yet well rehearsed for this year but picked every time. And the style, language is at the height of emotion that it intends to raise. For the rest, they are unexpected events, they have the charm bitter and sweet at once. I hope you enjoy them, they touch you as they touched me, and is a part of these memories may revive some madeleines, grains of sand at the bottom of a forgotten old beach bag, or metro ticket faded of a European capital that unearths a pants pocket. There is everything in my little list, and all these titles have in common is the pleasure they have given me.

To begin, Forward road! Alix de Saint-Andre, a kind of book works written down by this singular writer who resembles no one, its size and road margins of all currents, a thriller and funny cruel ( Angel and the brake fluid reservoir , I heartily recommend, not only for its awesome title) to an ode to Malraux, after a detour grown and humorous by Archive Angels. There is in Alix de Saint-Andre a mixture of delicacy, fierce frankness and humor that makes us dear in the first lines. Forward, go! Was born of his pilgrimage to Saint Jacques de Compostela. But do not imagine the book as yes-man of a staid Catholic. No, in fact it tells you plainly:

"There's the French for Peregrine and the trailer of priests and teachers, prayer and culture, art and faith, tralala, monopolizing the whole shelter to the general nervousness, because it is not everything in the path of logic, the camino as practiced in Spain: individualistic and solitary. Not trained troops of people with similar interests, but fiercely antagonistic individuals linked by fate. "

all there. Three pilgrimages to St. Jacques - including one from Saint-Hilaire in Maine et Loire! - Hundreds of miles on foot, blisters, rage, wanderings, encounters colorful, and everything to achieve what? God? Because it's been that we have two words to say to him? Or yourself, go figure. In any case, I invite you to follow way to the cape-writer who smokes, drinks, and hate the Catholics, especially in the morning.

change of atmosphere. We are in a world that could be our near future. A world divided into five zones: the furnace, where you can earn money recklessly, where they can risk death at every step. The formicaries, where thousands of people are agitated impaired, suffering from unemployment, ill-being, ugliness, violence. The Farm, where all goods are produced edible Foundation where will the lucky elite, those who have money, who are studying and can expect to get by. And finally Trough, where everyone fails at the end. Welcome Requiem for a star Jennifer D Richard, talented young novelist who takes a look at both ironic and sharp on the excesses of a society where the ultra-liberalism ends up flirting with decadence. Which man will soon be a market value and where we might one day soon return to the circus tastes. In Blue Dust , his first novel (just out in pocket), a young man came home drunk to find lost in a society icy which he was supposed to be one of the main cogs. Here is another Ulysses amnesic Illidan Lauda, who returns home after a stay in the furnace so demanding that his brain has erased the memory. He finds his wife, Sigrid, beautiful and mysterious, but not inexplicable rejection that inspires him. Son and two of which he does not remember. So here he is obliged, as the young Ladislaus Baran in dusty blue, here and there to find the breadcrumbs Tom Thumb of his former self, and attempt to shed some light on oppressive secrets. Jennifer D Richard excels in the art of carving of spiraling intrigue, nonchalant and polished as thrillers, replete with winks and brilliant inventions. Whether you are fans or not stories of anticipation, you will not regret diving into these two novels that evoke the world of Minority Report or Gattaca .

"I see a band out of nowhere, masked men methodical gestures, circle the block for a taxi in heavy traffic, the driver to root out his pockets, portrait, to make her regret for have taken this path, to have this mouth, to bring this combination of protection, have installed iron bars between the seats ...

But the crowd did not stop.

Am I the only conscious being, which I returned from the most violent area of the world? Am I the only one awake? "Without

transition, I invite you to the Hague, a piece of land at the end of the end, watching the sea and defies the storms. A small community lives here, eclectic, collected by the taste of flight, exile. The narrator is an anthropologist, came here fleeing impossible mourning. It protects life by observing others, goes fishing secrets, wants to untangle the knots of the lives of others to avoid returning to live his. The Déferlantes , Claudie Gallay, is a novel, dense, thick, writing accurate and chopped, one would like to read the lamp at night, lulled by the roar of the waves, watching the flashing lights. Change of scenery guaranteed!

"Desires, here, are made alive by the winds. It is a matter of skin, The Hague. A matter of meaning. "

Then comes Mississippi , Hilary Jordan. We are in the 40s, the war just ended. Soldiers returning home, haunted, torn inside. At the same time, Laura Mac Allan, a young educated woman who married late in life, is forced to follow her husband on a farm in hick from the depths of the Mississippi. And endure, as if that were not enough, the presence of a stepfather odious, tyrannical, racist and violent. Not far away live Hap, a black sharecropper and his wife Florence, a midwife with strong personalities. Their son Ronsele returned from the war, after having been for four years, treated like a man, like a soldier. In this drama with hints of thriller, Hilary Jordan, on his first novel, has injected an unexpected and devastating humor who can handle the darkness of a breathless narrative. An example in the monologue of Hap, the tenant, convinced that God wanted to bring him some punishment chosen by modesty:

"I said," Hap, you'd have interest in making smaller now, you take for granted I grant you benefits. You walk in thinking you're better than some people because not give you half your crop as others. You forgot who was boss. So this is what I will do: I will send a storm so strong that will tear the roof of the shed you keep it ousque mullet that makes your pride. Then I will send hailstones as big as walnuts on this mule, i will drive him crazy and i will break the leg trying to escape. Then, just for you soyes course it's me you got to business the next morning after you'll have killed your mule, you will get it buried and you'll have climbed the ladder to repair the roof of the shed, I will leave the last bar, the one you do not yet taken the time to repair, I will leave you fall squarely rot and you'll break your leg you too, and I will send Florence Lilly and childbirth and the twins at the other end of the field, like that you will spend half the day on site. It will give you time to think about what I was trying to tell you in awhile. "

Enchaînons with a pure thriller: Origin, Diana Abu Jaber. Lena Dawson, an expert on fingerprint identification in a laboratory, lives in Syracuse in upstate New York. This fragile young woman, only deep, scarred by childhood wounds, although it will find itself under the violence of the spotlight, following a case of sudden infant death syndrome. Lena dazzling intuitions, something like a sixth sense. It sniffs the presence of a serial killer of babies, and feels vaguely that his track is similar to that of its origins to her. But do not think that Origin is a classic thriller. It is a disturbing thriller in the extreme, which misleads you as Lena in a city of snow, wind and freezing cold plunges you back into your child's fears, a trip to the underworld where swirling, throbbing, themes bereavement, maternity, origin. A great moment.

"Traumatized children are part of the same tribe, I can spot instantly adults - Margo, Erin Cogan: we are everywhere. The lost childhood scars remain as a crooked smile or an expression in her eyes. There is always a sign. "

And to finish off, a true American novel that I like, filled with a spirit that exists there, under those skies larger than ours. Back in the American South, the old secessionist south. In South Carolina, specifically. In Wando Passo , David Payne, a great American novelist of today, interweaves two periods in one place. A haunted place, a former slave plantation marked by dark stories of disappearances. A couple in crisis has taken refuge there, trying to repair a story that is struggling. She, Claire is at home. Wando Passo is the land of his ancestors. He, Ranson Hill, is a rock musician manic-depressive heightened sensitivity enough to awaken all the ghosts. With them, a childhood friend, Marcel Jones, black high society has always been in love with Claire. As is tied, in the present, a Shakespearean tragedy in 1865, Adelaide, distinguished young woman from Charleston, married without love a landowner, Harlan De Lay, and moved with him to Wando Passo, despite persistent rumors and "anything but appropriate" to the family of her new husband. A new life begins for her, who will tell him, through the passion, suffering, loneliness and danger, that it really is. I do not want you too say about this spellbinding novel, moving, haunting you long after having closed, but it is both a story and a breathless poignant reflection on freedom and love. It is icing on the cake, beautifully written.

"Adelaide is still standing there, with the sudden conviction and visceral as life all around her, living green of the marsh and the world itself, which is a part, is foam with a thin the surface of a pond, deep black, and that this pool is death. Death is archaic and depth unfathomable, when life was new, fragile and thin, the slightest thing - a stone that is thrown, a breath of wind - could awaken these black waters and immobile, and life, as this wave of blood ceases. "

soon, and ... good summer.

Gaëlle Nohant