One glimpse at Anton's eyes, and I fell in love. That's all it took. I knew him only by reputation; his eyes worked the rest — intrigued me, charmed me. Of course, I'm married, and he's, well, dead, so no tryst. Still, the eyes of Dr Anton Pavlovich Chekhov: concern, fatigue, compassion, and pain glimmer there. 

One would hope to find such eyes on a doctor, as well as on a playwright and story writer. 

To celebrate the summer of 2017, we are pleased to present an ongoing series of reading recommendations/reminiscences by Goose Lane authors past and present.

Today: Ian Weir (Will Starling)

The sale of souls to the devil seems to have shaped up as the dominant theme in my summer reading. This wasn’t exactly intentional, but here we seem to be.

Each summer I vow to read at least one or two of the books that are so classic that I’m humiliated to admit that I’ve never read them. Don’t ask me about War and Peace, okay? Maybe next summer.