Chrystal McKay

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Lying in Wait
Chrystal McKay is currently reading
by Liz Nugent (Goodreads Author)
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Aug 05, 2025 05:57PM

 
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Rachel   Harrison
“It occurred to me then, mouth full of chocolate chip banana mush, that our past is not the truth. It’s warped by time and emotion, inevitably muddied by love and resentment, joy and shame, hope and regret. I couldn’t trust my own memories. Good or bad.”
Rachel Harrison, Black Sheep

Ransom Riggs
“I think they worried that my grandfather would infect me with some incurable dreaminess from which I’d never recover – that these fantasies were somehow inoculating me against more practical ambitions”
Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

Rachel Yoder
“This thing comes from us, she would explain in interviews. It rips its way out of us, literally tears us in two, in a was of great pain and blood and shit and piss. If she child does not enter into the world this way, then it is cut from us with a knife. The child is removed, and our organs are taken out as well, before being sewn back inside. It is perhaps the most violent experience a human can have aside from death itself. And this performance is meant to underscore the brutality and power and darkness of motherhood, for modern motherhood has been neutered and sanitized. We are at base animals, and to deny us either our animal nature or our dignity as humans is a crime against existence. Womanhood and motherhood are perhaps the most potent forces in human society, which of course men have been hasty to quash, for they are right to fear these forces.”
Rachel Yoder, Nightbitch

Charlotte McConaghy
“You must know monsters well, wolf girl.”
“I’ve never met one in the wild. They don’t live there.”
Charlotte McConaghy, Once There Were Wolves

M.L. Stedman
“Very slowly, he turned a full circle, taking in the nothingness of it all. It seemed his lungs could never be large enough to breathe in this much air, his eyes could never see this much space, nor could he near the full extent of the rolling, roaring ocean. For the briefest moment, he had no edges.”
M.L. Stedman, The Light Between Oceans

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