A to Z Bookish Survey

Jamie over at The Perpetual Page-Turner cooked up this fantastic survey which I spotted the other day, or a few weeks ago, or whenever.  It looked like a fun way to mix things up around here in between sporadic book reviews, so voila!

Author you’ve read the most books from:

Almost certainly Stephen King.  I looooved Stephen King in high school, and I spent a lot of lazy summer days devouring his books.  Last summer I finally read The Stand, and the SK love continues! 

Best Sequel Ever:

Hmm, I don't know.  I'm good at starting series, bad at continuing them.

Currently Reading:

I let Random.org pick me a book just so I'd read something I've had for more than, like, 3 months, and it chose for me Rules of Civility by Amor Towles.  I was thinking I might blow off Random.org to read The Coldest Girl in Coldtown, but then Rules of Civility just sucked me right in.  You're next, Coldest Girl! 

Drink of Choice While Reading:

I've pretty much changed over to drinking mostly water whether I'm reading or not, so probably water!


E-reader or Physical Book?

Physical book forever.  I've recently grown to appreciate my e-reader and it's cousin the Kindle app, but nothing can replace the feeling of turning pages. Plus, what would I do if I couldn't go on used book buying sprees?

Fictional Character You Probably Would Have Actually Dated In High School:

Wes from The Truth About Forever. 

Glad You Gave This Book A Chance:

Angelfall by Susan Ee.  I saw this one for sale in the Kindle Daily Deal, and I had some reservations, but I read the sample and took a chance.  And I loved it.  And I can't wait for the sequel!

Hidden Gem Book:

There's a bunch, but how about one from this year?  The Grave of God's Daughter by Brett Ellen Block.  My parents bought this for me many moons ago at a used book sale thinking I might like it.  I tried my Random.org trick earlier this year and it plucked this one from the obscurity of my shelves, and jeez am I glad because it's so good and nobody seems to know about it!

Important Moment in your Reading Life:

Just before I started my blog, I was chosen to take part in Elle Readers' Prize several times, back when it was still in the magazine and not just web content.  They'd send you 3 books, you'd read them and write short reviews of them and they'd choose a few of those reviews to appear in the magazine, so my reviewlettes have appeared several times in the pages of Elle magazine.  It was the first time it dawned on me that writing about the books I was reading might be fun and maybe even prove valuable to someone other than me.  So, then I started a book blog and the rest is history.

Just Finished:

Here Comes Mrs. Kugelman by Minka Pradelski.  It's got the weirdest narrator and a different sort of story within a story structure, but I ended up liking it a lot. 

Kinds of Books You Won’t Read:

Erotica, (and on the totally other side of the spectrum) cheesy inspirational fiction, and books where I can't begin to guess at the pronounciation of the names of the major characters

Longest Book You’ve Read:

Not sure, but The Stand by Stephen King is by far the longest book I've read recently, clocking in at 1100 or so pages.

Major book hangover because of:

How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

Number of Bookcases You Own:

Er, 6.  More needed.

One Book You Have Read Multiple Times:

I know this is two, but Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson and The Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen may be the only books I've *ever* re-read willingly.  And that deserves a mention, right?  Plus, I think one day I would even re-read them again!

Preferred Place To Read:

The front porch when it's nice out.  My bed when it's not.  A cafeteria table at work in a pinch. :)

Quote that inspires you/gives you all the feels from a book you’ve read:

"Today I am bothered by the story of King Canute. (...) The story is, of course, that he was so arrogant and despotic a leader that he believed he could control everything - even the tide. We see him on the beach, surrounded by subjects, sceptre in hand, ordering back the heedless waves; a laughing stock, in short. But what if we've got it all wrong? What if, in fact, he was so good and great a king that his people began to elevate him to the status of a god, and began to believe that he was capable of anything? In order to prove to them that he was a mere mortal, he took them down to the beach and ordered back the waves, which of course kept on rolling up the beach. How awful it would be if we had got it so wrong, if we had misunderstood his actions for so long." - From After You'd Gone by Maggie O'Farrell

Reading Regret:

I regret that I don't read more and faster!

Series You Started And Need To Finish(all books are out in series):

The Chemical Garden Trilogy by Lauren DeStefano.  I loved Wither, but I suck at keeping up with series likes I should!

Three of your All-Time Favorite Books:

The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien, After You'd Gone by Maggie O'Farrell, and The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene.  And three is so so so not enough.  I'm already rethinking these choices.  :-P

Unapologetic Fangirl For:

The Many Deaths of the Firefly Brothers by Thomas Mullen.  Also City of Tranquil Light by Bo Caldwell. 

Very Excited For This Release More Than All The Others:

Cannot answer, too hard.  So many great authors coming out with new stuff this year that I can hardly conceive of an answer to this question!

Worst Bookish Habit:

Continuing to acquire them even though I'll probably be dead before I can read all the books I already have!

X Marks The Spot: Start at the top left of your shelf and pick the 27th book:

That would be The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold.

Your latest book purchase:

What's Left of Me by Kat Zhang the e-book is on sale for $ 2.99 at the moment and what with how lots of bloggers are crazy for it, I couldn't very well not buy it, now could I?

ZZZ-snatcher book (last book that kept you up WAY late):

The Fault in Our Stars by John Greene.  I surely couldn't finish it at work, you know?  I mean, all the weeping would probably be a little awkward.


Have you done Jamie's survey?  If you have or if you do now, I'd love to see your answers so leave your link in the comments!  

Too Many Books?

As always, I'll have to ask you to pardon my absence. Life has been mildly out of control lately what with an unexpected return of a friend, buying a new car, having a job, and other such diversions. This is all not to mention my massive weekend book buying insanity and subsequent shelf reorganization. As it turns out, attempting to organize 1000 books or so is a time consuming task that slurped up every last bit of my weekend. Nonetheless, I've temporarily triumphed over the unwieldy book collection and determined that I simply must start being much more disciplined in my book acquiring or maybe, at least, disciplined at all. But who wants to start out a blog post talking about discipline? Let's talk about the shiny new books I got and dole out a little blame instead. I promise I'll only write about a few of them, or else we might be here all day.

So - some of the highlights of library booksale fest Winter 2010 and the bloggers who made me buy them:


Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese - With thanks to Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea.



The Space Between Us by Thrity Umrigar - Another one for Diane!




Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters - Thanks to Eva of A Striped Armchair who can always be counted upon to add to my TBR pile!

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri - Wendy at Caribousmom wrote a great review of this one.

Veil of Roses by Laura Fitzgerald - With thanks to the raving Susan of West of Mars. Having read Fat Kid Rules the World now, when she raves, I purchase!




To Serve Them All My Days by R.F. Delderfield - I definitely would have passed over this undustjacketed massive tome if I hadn't recalled Bookfool's glowing review.

A Gathering of Old Men by Ernest Gaines - Sam at Book Chase wrote a great review that propelled this one off the shelf and into my hands.

Others with no specific blame to lay include:

Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond
The Map of Love by Ahdaf Soueif
Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder
The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million by Daniel Mendelsohn
A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian by Marina Lewycka

...and much much more. Should I continue I would only shame myself with my great indiscretion. In light of this, I finally decided that I had too many books. So I decided to weed out the book collection and unload some dead weight that it's time to admit that I'm never going to read. The good news is, all the books fit on the shelves now. The bad news? Well, um, they're kind of double layered. Okay, really double layered. But two weekend days later, they are in alphabetical order by author. Which was an epic chore, but also greatly satisfying, and I'm pretty sure I got a great workout without really thinking about it. Even with all of them carefully tucked into their places on the shelves, the unavoidable truth is that there are, in fact, too many. I fear it may be time to institute the sort of book buying ban that some of you with stronger wills than I have instituted. I have yet to decide on the rules I'll put in place for myself, just that I need to have some rules. After a week like the last one (or, dare I say, two?), I fear that one of the most basic easier-said-than-done rules I need to abide by is to, um, actually crack a book once in a while. *sigh*

Senseless Book Shopping for the Infirm

I do this sometimes. I use words and then I wonder if I know said words real meaning. Hence, when I casually plunked down "infirm" in the title of this post, I thought, does infirm really mean what I think it means? As it turns out, infirm has several definitions, more than one (all?) of which apply to me for the purposes of this post. So, in fact, my casual choice turned out to be just the word I wanted...and more. Here we have the definition as copied and pasted from Dictionary.com:

in⋅firm  /ɪnˈfɜrm/
–adjective
1. feeble or weak in body or health, esp. because of age; ailing.
2. unsteadfast, faltering, or irresolute, as persons or the mind; vacillating: infirm of purpose.
3. not firm, solid, or strong: an infirm support.
4. unsound or invalid, as an argument or a property title.

I mean, how perfect. First of all, I'm feeling kinda "feeble in health." I've been trying not to get sick all week, and I thought I had it beaten, but then just on the other side of all the Thanksgiving festivating, I find myself all tired and stuffy-nosed and grumpy. In this state, I happened upon a nice, helpful announcement from Book Closeouts informing me that they're having a nice 50% off sale on fiction books. Not being "firm, solid, or strong" in my commitment to not buy any more books for my overflowing shelves (or do I mean "overflowing house"?), I happened over there and browsed the books to soften the raw deal of being ill on the weekend when I should be starting my Christmas shopping and relishing the anticipation of the upcoming Christmas holiday. Now I find myself with a good few books in my virtual cart and I'm feeling "unsteadfast, faltering, and irresolute" about just what to do about this, which is quickly followed up by some very "unsound or invalid" reasoning as to why I should just go right on ahead and buy those books.

So then, I have a mission for you, should you choose to accept it. Your goal? Talk me out of whipping out my credit card and buying the 9 books (whittled down!) I have in my cart at Book Closeouts which are obscenely cheap because of their (not just) Black Friday fiction sale. Tell me how I have no need of more books, how I should be either saving my money for any of several important causes or spending it on Christmas presents, how there is no space for new books. Tell me that "they're cheap!" and "But I've really wanted them for a long time!" are not valid reasons for buying them, nor is the excuse that "I'm sick and ordering books I have no space for will make me less sick/less bummed out about being sick." In other words, cure me of my bookish infirmity. Until then, I'll be hovering here with my mouse perilously close to the "purchase" button.

Love,

Megan

P.S. Sorry about the word verification. It was getting pretty spammy around here, so I turned it on. :(

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!

Megan Vs. Short Story Round 1

Once upon a time not so very long ago, I decided I would like short stories. Not that I did like short stories, that I would like short stories. This is rather a bizarre decision because but for a few in high school that survived rigorous overanalyzation and still came out on top, I don't have much of a track record with the things. I either don't read them, or read them and don't understand or very much enjoy them. I get a brief peak into some situation or characters and it's not enough to answer all the questions burning in my mind, which is also startlingly ironic considering I don't have an inquiring mind at all. It's why I don't do author interviews. It's why I'm no good at keeping small talk going. It's probably why I do such a dismal job at interviewing for jobs. Questions just don't burn in my mind begging for answers. At least, not at the right times.

Nonetheless, I saw all the bloggers reading the short stories and loving them and figured I was missing out on some crucial reading experience (or, my childish mind at that moment whined, "I want to be like the cool kids!"). They were stories, they were short, other people liked them, and they make for an easy blog post for your local lit blogger, no? "What's not to like?" my easily rationalized mind asked, and so I set about acquiring them. I bought authors' collections of short stories. I stretched out my hand for an anthology or two. I won one in a blog contest. I grabbed a review copy of one. When I saw that my mom was being offered a great price, I even subscribed to a year of the New Yorker ("Oooh, cheap! And they have short stories!")...and then another. Having done all this, I think in the year and maybe a half that I've been blogging I have read a grand total of two, both compliments of the only two New Yorkers I've managed to read cover to cover, and it does demand to be read cover to cover, you know. The first was a selection by Louise Erdrich, of whose books I have read two. One which was excellent, one of my favorites, and one which left me oh so cold. The short story followed in the trail of the latter. I didn't understand it or think it had enough of a point to even make a blog post about it.

Now I've read this second one, and I didn't particularly like it either, but I do like to think that maybe I understood it. So, I thought, why not start a totally irregular blog feature wherein I duel with short stories (*ahem* comment on them and announce whether or not the story "beat" me or not)? You can expect to see this feature maybe twice in the next year if I keep up with my dismal track record. Keep in mind, of course, that my viewpoint may be slightly skewed considering the fact that there is no evidence on record to suggest that I might actually like any short story.

But anyway, the short story.

Having read the rest of the March 24, 2008 issue (yes, I know, almost a year old, Megan) complete with charming essay about getting a little too friendly with spiders by David Sedaris and a mildly intriguing story about a chef opening up a new restaurant, I found "The Region of Unlikeness" by Rivka Galchen whose debut novel is apparently forthcoming.

"...In Augustine's view, we live in what he calls the region of unlikeness, and what we're unlike is God. We are apart from God, who is pure being, who is himself, who is outside of time. And time is our tragedy, the substance we have to wade through as we try to move closer to God. Rivers flowing to the sea, a flame reaching upward, a bird homing: these movements represent objects yearning to be their true selves, to achieve their true states. For humans, the motion reflects the yearning for God, and everything we do through time comes from moving - or at least trying to move - toward God. So that we can be...our true selves. So there's a paradox there again, that we must submit to God - which feels deceptively like not being ourselves - in order to become ourselves..."

The story is about an unnamed female narrator who by chance (or is it?) happens upon a pair of men having an intellectually pompous discussion about Wuthering Heights in a coffee shop on the Upper West Side. Having thus encountered the two men, Jacob and Ilan, the narrator is drawn into their society despite her dislike for Jacob who is rather a boor (or is it bore?). Something like love develops between the narrator and Ilan, but then the latter disappears all of a sudden. Despite efforts to pin down Jacob, the narrator can't seem to get a straight answer out of him as to Ilan's whereabouts. As the narrator goes about trying to convince herself that she shouldn't need to find Ilan yet can't stop herself from wondering and looking, a sense of unreality prevails.

As it turns out, the narrator's relationship with the two men is more complex than she can imagine. I won't ruin the surprise, but it involves time travel, the grandfather paradox, and inescapable fate a la Oedipus. In other words, I'll admit that it was rather intriguing and thought-provoking, but as usual when it comes to my reading of short stories, even after thinking it through and arriving at what may actually be the "right" conclusion about the events that transpired in the story, I still feel like I very well might have missed something crucial and am thus left feeling vaguely unsatisfied.

So, then...

Short stories: 1, Megan: 0

Everybody's Doing It

You know, there's a bit of an fine line going with this whole book blogging thing because when I'm not blogging it usually means I'm reading and when I'm blogging too much, then that means I'm not reading enough to sustain my book blog.

What I'm trying to say is that I went Christmas shopping on Saturday in a vain hope of finding Animal, Vegetable, Mineral at the one local indie book store which has a definite sci-fi/fantasy bent with a few random bestsellers tossed in. To my great surprise, I found a copy and was able to "support the local indie" as I always say that I want to but rarely do. I don't buy many new books, and I buy even fewer new books from actual stores. Except for at Christmas, that's when I make up for my lackluster new book buying.

While I was there, against my better judgement, I bought one of these...



Because, I mean, who can really resist buying a book with vampires from a bookstore that actually has a "Vampire" section? Especially when you're an incredible sheep like me who just has to know what the big deal is. (Yes, I saw the movie, too, okay?) And it's been on my wish list for longer than you would guess...

Much to my surprise, I quickly cast aside everything I'd been reading and all the accumulated reading obligations this year has brought, and then let it devour my weekend whole. I accomplished nearly nothing this weekend apart from reading this book. I almost made it all the way through to the end, but alas, the work week came despite my great desire to stay in bed with the book. And then I worked 9 hours today, so the spell was briefly broken. But I intend to finish it. Soon.

No, it's not a work of great literary merit, nor, I believe, is it intended to be. It is, however, great and addictively escapist. I totally get the appeal. I mean, I need a few more books that will make me completely disregard everything else I might need or even want to do (even if I do notice offhand that maybe the main characters glare a little too often and that their attempts at verbalizing their feelings maybe get the slightest bit redundant even as I plow through the pages at an alarming rate). I get a kick out of how all of the first 10 widely "thumbs upped" reviews on Library Thing are wildly negative, and yet, it has an impressive 4.3 star rating among the general LT populace. Despite whatever flaws it might have, Meyer does know how to tell a good story - slowly handing out the details you crave and keeping you reading late into the night (or well into that time that you should have been balancing your checkbook or decorating your Christmas tree or even indulging in the ever-hallowed post-church Sunday afternoon nap - the best of the week I'll have you know).

Anyhow, all this leads me to believe that if you like this sort of thing, you will find it to be exactly the sort of thing that you will like. And I do. I like this sort of thing. Now, I'm off to go like it some more.

When We Were Romans by Matthew Kneale

Sooo...I was sitting here on this cold snowy sort of day contemplating whether or not the roads might be too bad to go to church since I don't get my good tires on until tomorrow. Oh wait, I was actually thinking about how I was going to write two lovely posts about how I was going to "clean the slate" and stop reading two books. Then I went in search of pictures for the posts and was distracted by the plethora of good reviews for the one and how maybe I didn't want to stop reading the other in the first place even though I was getting impatient with it. The one I find so unbelievable but like the writing, the other I'm not so into the author's writing but still want to hear the rather interesting stories he's collected. So, I've reached an impasse. Is it these books that I really want to give up on or is it me and the fact that I'm kind of in a depressed, whiny mood and eager for some sort of change even if it's just a total clean slate when it comes to the books that I'm reading? Being prone to indecisiveness in all things, I can't seem to make up my mind. This leaves me with but one possible action, and that's to review a book that I actually did finish and very much enjoyed, though there were some tense moments at the beginning when I thought I just wouldn't be able to get into it.

That book is When We Were Romans by Matthew Kneale. At its beginning, I wasn't sure if maybe it would drive me crazy, but by the end I was quite certain that Kneale had done something brilliant.


When We Were Romans is the story of Lawrence, a nine-year-old boy from England, as told by Lawrence himself. As the story begins, Lawrence, his younger sister Jemima, and their mother have just returned from a triumphant trip to a distant grocery store where they were forced to go because Lawrence's mother, Hannah, is certain that her ex-husband and the children's father is stalking them with evil intent. Even a trip to the grocery store without any unfortunate happenings is cause for celebration. Still, though, Hannah is distraught that her ex is lurking around every corner turning the neighbors against her and her children and lying in wait to do them some unspeakable harm. In an effort to escape this lingering terror, she packs up the two kids and shuttles them off to Rome, the last place she remembers being happy where the small family moves from place to place to stay with Hannah's old friends.

Lawrence renders the tale of their trip to Rome in possibly the most authentic nine-year-old voice ever executed by a grown man. At the start, it's a bit of a struggle to get used to, seeing as Lawrence's spelling and punctuation errors are included. Dialogue isn't separated out into the lines but included in the larger paragraphs along with many of Lawrence's thoughts which are marked as quotes. Then, however, something happens and you might well find you've been swept away by this short novel.

Lawrence's quirks and idiosyncrasies with spelling breathe as much life into this novel as does the story itself. His narration is full of the petty concerns of a nine-year-old such as his irritation with his little sister, his obsessive desire to acquire an army of Roman soldiers despite the fact that his mother apparently has no money, and his conviction that the young son of one of his mother's friends is going to steal his hamster in throw him in the trash. More significant, however, is that the narration is also fraught with the keen perception that children have of even those things that should be beyond their understanding. Lawrence knows when his mother is getting a bit too close to one of her old friends, he picks up on the subtle change between his mother and her best friend when the friend starts to doubt the truth of Hannah's stories, and he even knows, though he hesitates to admit it, that there is something a bit askew about this whole trip to Rome.

So the Romens never did say that it was strange to do a trial for a dead body, in fact they didn't say anything at all. But after, when they all went home to their houses, when they sat down and ate their dinner and it was really quiet, so they could hear their knives go "clink clink" and the clock go "tick tock" then I think they all knew.

As with other well-liked books such as The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, the unique narrator of When We Were Romans allows Kneale to add many layers to the story that couldn't exist if we were given a "typical" narrator. The story as filtered though Lawrence's eyes is one of excitement, mystery, and horror which leaves it to us to uncover just what lurks beneath the surface of seemingly ordinary events. Additionally, Kneale cleverly intersperses the real-time happenings with Lawrence's recounting of the things he's been reading, alternately tidbits about space for his school report and his reading from his Hideous History books about Popes and Caesars. These reveal yet more about Lawrence's personality and his uncannily perceptive way of thinking while at the same time proving all too relevant to the things that are happening to Lawrence and his family. (If can't guess, both of the quotes I've chosen are from these instances.)

There is lots of dust by the event horizon, its like a big disk, it goes round faster and faster until it falls in, so it is like water going down the plug hole. And d'you know just because its about to fall down the dust does a funny thing, it spits out lots of rays, they are X rays and radio waves, scientists can see them through their teliscopes, and they are awful actually. It is like the poor dust is screeming, its saying "oh no I'm getting sucked into this black hole, I will never come back, nobody will ever see me again, I will get squoshed flat, this is terrible" its like it is saying "help me."

Honestly, this is a great book that can't be captured by any review. It's short and it's sweet and even a bit sad, and it's also very smart and totally believable. Another of my favorite reads of the year.

Read other reviews at:

Worducopia
A Striped Armchair

London Calling by Edward Bloor

So, once upon a time (okay, um, like a week and a half ago...), I had this brilliant (if not wholly original or especially imaginative) idea. Here I sat at my computer pondering the vastness of Google Reader and how uhm, every other blog seemed to be reviewing the same book. Now, I totally understand this - publishers and authors are looking to create a lot of buzz about books so that they can move some copies when it hits the shelves. This is perfectly understandable, as is the book blogger's desire to be "with the times" and reading and reviewing these newer books. And I've become a totally huge "offender" in this respect, too. I can hardly say that being a new book hound hasn't been an enjoyable experience. I've discovered a few gems in that way and stand to discover a fair few more. But all this other reading material that I've been busy accumulating over the rest of my life has really been getting the short shrift.

Well then, I thought, I kind of miss reviewing books that everybody on the earth isn't also reviewing at near about the same time. Hey, I bet books that were published before this year or even next year are probably still quite enjoyable. Huh, (now here's where the bright if unoriginal/unimaginative idea comes in...wait for it...), I should really read some of that stuff that I had sitting about on my shelves before I became a psycho "me want spiffy new books" book blogger. So (aha! I've got it!), I thought, you know what I'll do? I'll alternate - one spiffy new read (and review!) for every one equally valid book read from the great pre-exising Mountain of TBR lurking in every corner waiting to crush me. This, of course, only works if I actually comment in some way on the blog about the book I managed to pluck off Mount TBR and read. Oops. Now that I've actually gone ahead and finished my next "spiffy new book," it seems that I should really, in good conscience, should go back and say something about the very respectably decent Mount TBR read that I completed some time ago.

Of course, I intended to review it sooner. Alas, this past week was dysfunctional as every single week of mine seems to be lately. Somehow I managed to accomplish nothing especially meaningful "real life-wise" and yet still not A) keep up with the blogs in my Google reader (thought I did leave a thoughtful comment or few on the ones I *did* manage to peruse) or B) post a single freakin' word on my blog or C) finish another book. Okay, I just made the cut on that last one. That moves me up a bracket from abject failure to uh....average failure. But, please, that's enough about me and my complete inability to use my time wisely (unless of course, you count the daily two hour naps and the watching of things like "Top 15 Child Star Mug Shots" on TV as being a wise use of time...). I really must talk about this book so I can begin to assuage my feelings of failure before someone comes back to house to interrupt the peace and quiet that will hopefully enable me to so.


Edward Bloor's London Calling is a sweet YA read featuring the young John Martin Conway. Martin is stuck attending the private school where his mom works in order to give him the best of educational opportunity, but he'd just as soon go to public school rather than dealing with the rich, entitled jerks that terrorize him at All Souls Prep. The toxic atmosphere for a "scholarship" kid at All Souls combined with the death of his grandmother with whom he seemed to share a special spiritual connection are the straws that break the camel's back. Martin adamantly refuses to return to All Souls and resigns himself to residing in his basement bedroom after an embarassing altercation with Hank Lowery, grandson of General Henry "Hollerin' Hank" Lowery, a somewhat ambiguous figure of World War II whose family has done whatever could be done to cement his good, if possibly false, reputation.

Martin's existence in his basement bedroom is dismal and unlike living at all, that is, until the old fashioned radio he inherited from his grandmother begins to transport him back in time to London during the Blitz. There he meets Jimmy Harker who is determined to convince Martin to do "his bit." Whatever "bit" that might be, it's up to Martin to discover. Soon Martin finds himself doing extensive research to discover whether his encounters with Jimmy are, in fact, based in fact, or if he has begun to have elaborate historical dreams. In the process, Martin begins to live and enjoy life again, repair family ties, and even discover what he can do to help Jimmy even from the distant future. What emerges is a page-turner of a time travel story, a sweet coming of age story, and a good lesson about the significance of family ties and the importance of "doing your bit" to make a difference in the lives around you.

This was an enjoyable read for me as an adult, and I'm sure if the book had existed when I was in its target age range (probably the junior high age group, if I had to guess), it would have been one of my favorites. I always was big into historical fiction and a total time travel nut, so this was (and would have been) right up my alley!

This post has no unifying theme...

...but what else is new?

Nobody's here and it's kind of quiet and peaceful, so I figured it would be a good time to check in with the old blog. That's not to say that I have anything of import to share. My blog is so on again off again - you can definitely tell the weeks that I finish books from the weeks that I don't. Next week should be a good week. This week I'm struggling for some interesting stuff to say.

I'm in the middle of two books right now. One is Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. I picked it up and am pacing myself through it so I can read it with Becky. I've never been in any sort of real life book discussion group so I thought it would be fun, especially since I've got this one on my Spring Reading Thing list and so need to read it anyway. So far, I'm loving it. The narrator is oppressed but humorous as she enters high school. It's all very absorbing and I'm sure if I weren't slowing myself down to keep pace with discussion I could easily have read it in a day or two.

The other is The Beet Queen by Louise Erdrich. I loved her Master Butcher's Singing Club so I've sought out a few more titles by her. This book puzzles me in several ways. The first is, it's "literary" fiction in a mass market paperback format and it has the tiniest font I've ever seen in a book that isn't considered a great classic of literature. It also has no discernible plot. It is what I suppose you would call a character driven novel. The characters are very interesting and I find that I'm very engrossed by the book - even on my lunch break when I need to focus over the dull roar of a few hundred lunching hospital employees. Erdrich's definite talent is in her ability to create whole families and even whole interwoven communities of well-drawn and believable (if not always likeable) characters. I'm interested to see how it all wraps up.

This week also marks just about the first time I was ever in a line and popped a book out of my bag to read while waiting. Usually I'm kicking myself for not having a book when I'm in a long line, but yesterday, for once, I did. So I grabbed it out of my bag and actually read and was absorbed entirely unselfconsciously in my book for several of the many minutes I had to wait in line for hoagies behind about 6 irritating sorority girls and a guy that only wanted to order a pizza and couldn't seem to make himself stand still.

So how about all these BAFAB week festivities? I've entered a few drawings, but feel weirdly guilty about not getting around to hosting one myself. I'm not sure why I feel guilty as now that I've got a decent job and some free time just about every book I read is exiting my house and finding a home with somebody new. I just do it at random...not in any way that is especially organized and drawing-ish. I kind of get a kick out of the whole surprise aspect. Like, "Oh, you think this sounds good? Well, do ya want it?" as opposed to "Here, let's have a drawing." Both definitely have their merits, like hey I bet more people come to your blog if you're giving stuff away on it, so I'll have to get around to the latter at some point here. Until then, the "I have no more room for books I've already read in my house nor do I have any time to stage a blogly drawing event. What, it sounds good to you? Good, I like you, so please do me a favor and take it off my hands!" tactic.

Speaking of drawings, I won one for Forgive Me by Amanda Eyre Ward over at A Garden Carried in the Pocket where I occasionally lurk via feed reader. I read two of this author's books last year and look forward to reading this one as well. So, there's one I can take off the old monstrous wish list of mine. Thanks Jenclair!

In other book news, I literally can't bring myself to turn down free books. Every month when the new list of books for Library Thing early review becomes available, I think, I really shouldn't this month, I'm in over my head already - and then request a few anyway. Likewise with Harper Collins First Look where I think, "Hey, they'll never actually pick me...like usual" except for when they do. So when Rachel from Elle e-mailed me about doing another jury, did I say no? Well, of course not. I knew that I should say no. But I didn't. The only logical reason for this kind of behavior is that I simply can't. I can't look a free book or eight in the face and just say "no, thanks" even thought I've got more books in my house than I have a prayer of reading in the next ten years especially at the rate that my flea-like attention span has confined me to thus far this year. And library book sale season is coming and really cheap books are almost as hard to refuse as really free books. And those Amazon and Barnes and Noble gift certificates have been sitting around unused for months now because I have actually been trying to restrain myself from this madness before the floors collapse under the weight of a thousand unread books, restraint which people like Eva try to sabotage by writing blog posts about juicy bargain books on sale at Barnes and Noble whose low prices scream that they want to come to my house.

What am I even doing here at the computer? Shouldn't I be reading?

On Books and Me

While bloghopping this morning, I came upon a post at BiblioHistoria reflecting on a New York Times article which talks about how, at one time, reading was perceived to be lazy and unhealthy. I saw a lot of myself in her post, so instead of leaving a ridiculously long comment, I wrote a whole ridiculously long post of my own! (It's been awhile since the last blogly novella, hasn't it?)

I think it's quite ridiculous that reading was once equated with laziness. I have been told that I watch TV too much or I'm on the computer too much, implying laziness, and I've been inclined to agree that there is some laziness in those pursuits, but not always, especially when it comes the computer. However, in my life, reading has been anything but lazy. I've been told that I "read too much" but never in the sense that that made me lazy, perhaps only anti-social. I'm the person that sits in the living room while my parents watch TV and reads. I love to be around my family, but I'd much rather have my face in a book or a magazine or a newspaper than be staring mindlessly at the screen. To me, that's lazy. Hmm...makes you wonder if there will come a time when people will look back on us now and wonder at us thinking that watching TV is lazy!

I've been a book worm from a young age. My mom says that as a youngster I once asked her, "How do you learn to read?" She claims to have replied something like, "Well, you just have to practice." So I went and got all of my books and stacked them up on the floor and began to "practice." Stacks of books have surrounded me ever since. I used to have a bunch of books and now, having discovered the wonder of the library used book sale, I have tons and tons.

They say that when you give gifts, you give the types of things that you would like to receive. I think it's true! Every year, try though I might, I can't seem to resist buying the people that mean the most to me books. This year is no different. My parents both just read The Kite Runner so I picked them up a copy of A Thousand Splendid Suns. My mom is a huge fan of Jan Karon's Mitford series, so I picked up Karon's latest book, Home to Holly Springs for her. My dad loves a good mystery/thriller by Dean Koontz and, more recently, Dan Brown, so it's Angels and Demons for him. My pets, always astute in giving my mother presents (by way of me, of course) chose a hilarious copy of The Dangerous Book for Dogs to enlighten my mom to all their mischievious secrets. That's this year, alone. I love love love to unwrap a book on Christmas day or a gift certificate to get more books and often preferred them to toys or even the electronic gadgets that people of my age seem to covet so much - not that I don't like my gadgets, but not as much as my books. I'm sure my aunt had a hand in nurturing that love for books as gifts, as she always went out of her way to give me beautiful picture books when I was young that I really treasured.

Some of my best memories are book related. I would hardly say that staying up deep into the night reading is lazy. Sometimes I'd sneak out to the edge of my room after bedtime to huddle in the doorway reading by the hallway light until my parents would come chase me back to bed. When I was a little older and permitted to read whatever suited me, being completely absorbed into Stephen King's or John Grisham's page turners long after I should have been asleep could hardly be considered lazy, right? Even now, my reading tastes are little more serious and my reading itself is a little more serious, but I love to fall into the more realistic literary fiction and find that it taps into some of my deepest feelings and longings while also learning new words for my vocabulary and new things about the world far outside my front door. I love to know these things and to share them with the people around me, and doing that, I can tell you for certain, is no lazy pursuit.