Skip to main content

James Lynch and his dog, Theo

cortney kelley The Globe and Mail

I like to read in my grandmother's padded maple rocker. This shapely chair fits my spine and gives rhythm to my reading.

Mildred Lynch read in this same rocker for decades, right up until she passed at the age of 97. The chair, no doubt, had something to do with her longevity. Reading The Washington Post in it every day kept her mind agile. And her rocking, as imperceptible as it was, kept her blood moving.

I use the rocker now for its connection to her, but also for its industriousness. This isn't a chair to doze in. It's for reading and thinking and hanging out with Theo, my biggest fan. So I park it next to the fireplace and the small bookcase crammed with novels that have inspired me through the years.

Story continues below advertisement

Recently, I've been reading new ones like Chad Harbach's The Art of Fielding, which lives up to its hype as an irresistible first novel about the humbling pursuit of perfection.

Yet I also often sit here, rocking with an after-dinner beer, leafing through old favourites and reading beginnings and endings of stories that moved me as a reader and shaped me as a writer, such as Ironweed, Clockers, The Color Purple, All the King's Men and Even Cowgirls Get the Blues.

Jim Lynch's new novel is Truth Like the Sun.

Report an error
Comments are closed

We have closed comments on this story for legal reasons. For more information on our commenting policies and how our community-based moderation works, please read our Community Guidelines and our Terms and Conditions.