Five Star Blog Roundup 418: Three Great Posts and a George Saunders Quote

This week's Five Star Blog Roundup is brought to you by the basics of dialysis, Harvey Weinstein, memories of Diwali, and a quote by George Saunders:

by Jeremy Sternberg [ CC BY-NC 2.0 ],  via Flickr

by Jeremy Sternberg [CC BY-NC 2.0], via Flickr

I tend to foster drama via bleakness. If I want the reader to feel sympathy for a character, I cleave the character in half, on his birthday. And then it starts raining. And he's made of sugar.
— George Saunders —

Happy reading!

"Dialysis Basics for Non-Medical People" by Lizz Porter at More Than Thursdays:

I’m not a medical professional, I’m “just” a patient. I’ve spent a total of about six years on dialysis, so I’m only sharing from my own experiences and understanding. This is not medical advice, it’s a way for me to explain some terms that people may not be familiar with, and that I’ll use often in the coming months and years.

I’ll be talking about two types of dialysis; there’s a third one that exists, but I’m not familiar with it, so I’m not going to go there. The ones I’ll cover are hemodialysis and peritoneal dialysis, shortened to “hemo” or “PD”. The third option is at-home hemo…

"Next-Level Rage Stroke: Harvey Fucking Weinstein" by Katie Anthony at KatyKatiKate:

Everyone's so certain that this kind of behavior is unacceptable! Appalling! Nauseating! I wouldn't be surprised to hear that went dark in the hours after the Weinstein story broke, when all the publicists rushed to their laptops to find other words that mean "ew."

Everyone has DAUGHTERS! And SISTERS! And MOMS! And WIVES! Is that what it takes for a man to find sexual assault scary and disgusting? Having a daughter/sister/mom/wife? Sweet Lord, I would hate to see what those fucking Bradys were up to before they met that lovely lady we've heard so much about.

"Of Diwali Traditions Old and New" by Obsessivemom at Obsessivemom:

My favourite memory…

is that of my grandmother sitting out in the courtyard frying gujhiyas in a large kadhai (a wok) on a coal fire. My sister and I would hang out of the huge windows of our room that opened out into the courtyard. It was me more than my sister. Food never was quite her thing like it was mine. My grandmom would hand over one to me, its delicately flavoured khoa hot and runny. And I would happily risk burning my tongue as I’d bite into it. Nothing ever tasted quite as good.

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