Brokeback Megan Talks Books or Whatever

Greetings loyal and oft unrewarded blog readers! I'd apologize for my absence, but we've all seen that song and dance before, haven't we? As is my custom, I have flown back to my blog as a result of physical distress, this time in the form of a twisted lower back. Per doctor's orders, I am not permitted to go to work until Thursday, which I deem to be a little excessive, but perhaps necessary. Given my marked improvement this afternoon, I'm curious as to whether my doctor's excuse also prohibits me from going to see the new Harry Potter movie which I have been eagerly awaiting. I mean, I wouldn't have to stand while watching it, or lift anything, or be tense and stressed out by my co-workers or lack thereof on those particularly short handed days. I really must recover, however, before the weekend. I forked over $125 to get a ticket to Wicked on Broadway and am determined to go even if my companion has to push me around in a wheelchair, though that wouldn't be very convenient and I haven't informed her of that possibility yet.

Anyhow, while I travel the road to recovery, I have found that I've already run out of decent stuff to watch on the idiot box. (May I recommend checking out Defiance on pay per view? Daniel Craig does a great Holocaust hero. Or, if you're feeling cheap and desirous of something with a total lack of intellectual stimulation, lots of Spongebob Squarepants episodes? Something about that guy just makes me happy). Unfortunately, it so happens that the two books I'm reading are both leaving me less than satisfied, so I figure rather than bore myself by reading them, I might be able to manage a few moments in my desk chair to bore you by talking about them. Ah, how I kind of wish I was reading something, how you say, more distracting from my boredom and indefinable discomfort pain and agony.

Anyhow, I'm reading this:



and also this:




and in a moment of desperation I was even driven back to this:



But what I really wish I was reading is this (which came in the mail on Saturday from a Bookcrosser who really knows how to tempt me to trade):



In the Beauty of the Lilies by John Updike is a selection for my church book club, the leader of which hadn't ever read it and now wishes he had. Much after the fact, I received a disclaimer in my e-mail box disclosing that there is rather some explicit s-x contained therein (sorry about the dashes, I'm just hoping not to get any hits on such a search term). Oopsy on the church book club book choosing. Nonetheless, I haven't gotten there yet, but I'm thinking maybe some explicit s-x might really give this book a boost because it is not exciting nor does it appear to be leading up to any sort of point. I wasn't terribly wowed by the other three chapters, but the forth and last chapter seems to be particularly dreadful. I should mention, also, it's got all of about 500 pages, and four chapters. There's nothing worse than reading a book that's not wowing you and having no normal sized chapters to make you feel like you're making progress through it. I find it's both easier and harder to put down because of this whole chapter thing. And the paragraphs are also freakishly long. Don't get me wrong, Updike certainly has a way with words, but all the formatting and the whole "it seems to have no point" thing just keep wrecking my enjoyment. How about you? Does something so frivolous as chapter/paragraph length put you off a book?

Don't Call Me a Crook! is a supposed memoir by a Scotsman by the name of Bob Moore. Now, reading this book is like listening to your crazy great uncle tell stories after he's had a few too many. For awhile it's really funny and you're having a good time, but then the fascination wears off and you're thinking, "Man, you're full of it. Are you done yet?" Every time I look at the cover of this book, it has me thinking that it should be a movie simply so Leo DiCaprio can play Bob Moore because the cover photo so reminds me of Leo. Actually, it really might make for a good movie, but it might be a little too reminiscent of Catch Me If You Can for Leo to star in it. *sigh*

Now, this In the Country of Brooklyn book has been languishing on my bedroom floor for untold months because it is huge, and despite being actually really interesting in parts, is also redundant and seems to have no theme. Now, when I was in college, all my professors told me that even when I was writing history papers they had to have a main point, I couldn't just tell a story. Golenbock obviously didn't study at the chalkboards and overhead projectors of my beloved (???) history professors because this book just kind of meanders down the path to nowhere. I'm in that rotten position where I've read so far into it (because, I told you, it really is interesting) that it seems a shame not to just buckle down and finish it, but all those other books are just crying out at me from the shelf for me to abandon it for them. I remain undecided about my course of action even now.

Alas, I must stop this post which has morphed into Brokeback Megan moans and complains about books and resume my place on the recliner and try to soldier through the rest of In the Beauty of the Lilies if only so I can finally *read something else.* Wish me luck!

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