There are a few facts about me that if you’ve been here more than once or twice you probably already know. I love shoes. I love books. I have some amazing friends. So it is with great joy that I announce that one of my long-time, amazing friends, Kiersten White, is now officially a published author. As in, she wrote a book. And someone (cough, HarperTeen, cough) liked it. So they put a ring on it, er, I mean, they published it. And NOW Paranormalcy is available in bookstores all over the place, or on Amazon!
Yep, that’s right. That is me, Evie (the main character) and Kiersten hobnobbing at Barnes and Noble last night. And yes, it’s August here. And yes, I was wearing a jacket, scarf, tights and boots BECAUSE IT WAS COLD! I’m not complaining–I love the fall and am glad summer is coming to a close.
Evie’s always thought of herself as a normal teenager, even though she works for the International Paranormal Containment Agency, her ex-boyfriend is a faerie, she’s falling for a shape-shifter, and she’s the only person who can see through paranormals’ glamours.But Evie’s about to realize that she may very well be at the center of a dark faerie prophecy promising destruction to all paranormal creatures.So much for normal.
The Strand Bookstore
You know how much I love books, right? So it should come to no surprise that while I was in NYC I wanted to go to this enormous used bookstore, The Strand.
Doesn’t that just look fantastic? The Strand boasts 18 miles of used books. I feel giddy again just thinking about it. Eighteen Miles! Swoon!
These leather-bound titles were my favorite. They had an entire section of them and I wish I could have brought them all home.
I could have stayed here for a solid month and still not have made my way around to all the interesting nooks and corners. I did not, however, bring a single book home with me. Even at their “used” prices I felt they were exorbitantly expensive. Their used prices were about 75% of the cover price, which is a nice discount. But when I’m used to paying $2 dollars for a hardback book at the Booksale, 25% off seems like highway robbery. I made a list of titles that looked interesting, and I will keep an eye out for them in Phoenix.
*I’d like to thank Erin and RA for indirectly introducing me to The Strand. RA organized a fantastic online bookclub last year where Erin led a discussion for “The Secret of Lost Things“, which takes place in The Strand. I’ve wanted to visit it ever since.
The New York Library
Do you remember that moderately bad movie “The Day After Tomorrow”? Remember how they hole up in the New York Library until Dennis Quaid comes to rescue them? Yep, pretty much I’ve wanted to go see that library since I saw that movie. So while in NYC I dragged my long-suffering friend Josh and a handful of highschool kids* onto the subway and down to the library. I’m kind of an architecture geek and was hoping to “oooh” and “aaaah” over the building for a while. This building is amazing!
[Gorgeous, right? Right. Sadly, every single architectural detail you see right now–from the molding to the columns to the lions and even the stone steps–was completely ensconced in sheet rock, plastic, and “Construction Underway” signs. I was crushed. The inside was still beautiful with most areas open to visitors–but the beautiful outside was hiding. Which I guess means I’ll have to make another stop next time I’m in NYC.
One of the many lobby-areas in the Library. I love all the wood paneling, arches and the castle-worthy sconces/candelabra.
I half-expected The Beast or some other fantastical creature–a gargoyle maybe?–to come bounding around one of these corners. Alas, no such magical creature, disguised prince, or AWOL gargoyle presented itself. Sigh, such a gorgeous building.
[I spent an hour or so in this reading room with a fascinating volume on the ancient Greeks. Man, I wish I had more time to read something like that all the time–I need to be done with required school readings, stat. (This is wishful thinking, my semester started yesterday.)
The Museum of Natural History
I dragged a small group of highschool kids out of bed early one morning (early being, you know, 9:00 am) to go visit the Museum of Natural History. This is by far the largest museum I’ve ever been to–with levels and floors and extra exhibits in new wings and old wings–it went on forever! I can’t begin to recount everything we saw–but some of my favorites were the geology and space exhibits depicting different composites that make up the earth and how, exactly, the earth fits into our solar system. I loved the Japanese exhibits that detailed how to make woodblock prints. Ditto on the ancient Chinese exhibit. The museum had Egyptian mummies and Tibetan temples and an entire room of ancient pottery. I was floored by the sheer volume of artifacts from various African tribes, and how similar and different they were from each other. There were stuffed animals and cases of small reptiles and rooms of skeletons of Jurassic-era animals.
The dinosaur bones exhibits were perhaps my favorite, they were just so enormous! I mean, I know T-Rex is huge and all–but it’s different when you are standing next to him and staring at his teeth and claws. Yowzers!
Wooly mammoth, anyone? Dumbo? Buhler?
Yeah, suddenly The Night at the Museum franchise is no stretch to me–this place has EVERYTHING! Recommended.
*A note about the high school kids: I was a chaperon for a high school tour-of-sorts. Kind of random, totally awesome. They were a great bunch of kids and we had some good times. I’d go on vacation with them again in a minute.
Alternative Title: All about the time I almost moved into the basement of a National Monument.
Before I went to Washington, D.C. I joked with a few friends about finding a persuadable security guard at the Library of Congress who would let me move into the basement. Reader, I found him. Solomon an enormous, muscley, hulk of a man with a killer toothpaste-commercial smile and a deep, contagious laugh. And he promised that if I smiled at him on occasion he would let me sleep amongst the stacks of books. Admittedly, I think at some point my virtue would be on the line, but it is a small price to pay to live here:
From the outside, I think the Library of Congress is one of the most beautiful buildings on the Mall. On the inside it is absolutely breathtaking. Sure there are marble columns and gorgeous paintings and sculptures and inlaid mosaics. But it’s the books that I am in-love with. I think I spent about 6 or 7 hours wandering around, ogling the rooms and rooms of books. They have a Gutenberg Bible, as well as The Giant Bible of Mainz, just hanging out in the lobby. Respectively, that is the first book printed in the Western world and the last of the great, handwritten Bible’s of Europe. There they are, side-by-side, looking imposing and gorgeous and breathtaking. Of course, in 90% of the Library of Congress there is no photography allowed, and due to the reverent nature of the items on display (see: bibles, Magna Carta, Bill of Rights, etc) I decided not to be my usual naughty self and take pictures anyway. Besides, I wanted to stay on good terms with Solomon to ensure my place in the basement.
Any reader who has been here for longer than 10 minutes is well aware that I have a bit of a book-addiction problem (as well as a shoe-addiction problem. And a Nutella-addiction problem). So it should not be any kind of surprise to know that my visit to the Library of Congress was, by far, the highlight of my trip. The original Library of Congress was donated by Thomas Jefferson, from his personal collection of books, some 6,000 strong. (Note: I would LOVE to have 6,000 books in my personal library. I’m sitting at about 700 right now–I have a spreadsheet, don’t judge–and my apartment is absolutely bursting.) During the War of 1812 when the British sacked and burned Washington those dastardly redcoats burned the building housing the Library of Congress. They burned it! Half of Jefferson’s carefully curated collection went up in flames. At this point in the video-presentation about the beginnings of the Library of Congress I actually gasped and may (or may not) have cursed the bloody English. I know I know; it was a war and they were under orders from a (tyrant) king and we’re on good terms now thanks in large part to the Beatles and Kate Moss. But in my world, book burning is tantamount to genocide and ethnic cleansing. The Library of Alexandria was destroyed by Roman invaders and frankly, despite their pasta and Vespa’s and chic fashion, I’ve never forgiven them. /book rant.
[It has only been in the last fifteen years that the library has made a concerted, dedicated effort to reclaim copies of those books that were lost. So far they have acquired through purchase and donation, about 4,800 volumes and in one, marbled wing there is a room dedicated to Jefferson’s originally donated library. There is this enormously tall, circular bookcase made out of plexiglass that winds into itself. You can walk through it like a little maze and gorge yourself on Jefferson’s collection. He had his own organizing system, which is complicated and logical and, frankly, kind of brilliant. He divided books into three dozen different types and topics, and then arranged them by size. By size. This brilliant mind arranged his books by size. I suddenly feel much better about the fact that my books are arranged by color (again, don’t judge). I spent almost an hour slowly perusing these shelves, making notes of philosophers I should become more acquainted with, like Cicero, for example, and smiling to myself when I came across his section of Shakespearean plays. I really think that Jefferson and I would have been great friends.
[A few hours later, and after a little harmless flirting with Solomon (and also going through the proper channels) I got myself down into the “reading room” of the Library of Congress. The bookshelves are miles long and several stories high. There are balconies and walkways and arches and domes and more books than you can even imagine. I wandered around for a long time, running my finger along the edge of the shelves and just smelling the old-book smell. I wish I had something to research because I mostly walked around aimlessly, wandering from one section to another.
Many hours later, I emerged from the Library of Congress on a biblio-contact high and desperate for something to eat. I bid goodbye to Solomon, who still insisted he’d found a nice warm corner for me to live, and promised to return.
Filed under: Bookworm
There has been a very obvious dearth of posting lately, and I don’t want to get into the reasons why (mostly because, frankly, it’s depressing and I’m trying to stay away from depressing). Instead, I have decided that I should a) smother any depressing bits in bacon and/or goat cheese, and b) make a concerted effort to talk about things that I love. I can write about something I love without too much trouble. It’s when I start to write about the things that are Real and In My Face Right Now that my mind starts to wander, my reasoning and grammar skills get dicey and I eventually throw up my hands and open the package of Sour Patch Kids.
So,without further adieu, or further references to junk food (hey! goat cheese is a SPECIALTY product! It’s gourmet! It’s not “junk”)(except that it sits on my thighs the same way chocolate truffles do)…regardless, and without any more parentheses (I promise!), here is the first in what will be an ongoing series of Things That I Love.
I love reading. (This is not a surprise, or rather, it shouldn’t be if you know me at all.)
I have noticed that, as of late, most of my books have been nonfiction, memoirs or novels so peppered with historical fact that they read more like a history book than a novel. The last few weeks have made this trend of mine even more apparent. I am still plowing through the pile of books I bought in February at the Booksale, and I have another pile I bought with several Barnes & Noble giftcards. That being said, I really am in no need for additional bookery; but the last week I have ordered another large small-ish pile of books simply to cheer myself up. What? I have permanent free shipping and a good discount. Why not? It’s better for my thighs than gobbling a loaf of cheese or a vat of chocolate. I even have to bend down to pick up the box when it arrives on my doorstep, and that act is considered a “squat” by Jillian Micheals, and therefore counts as “exercise”. Right? (I am not pausing at this juncture long enough to hear any dissenting opinions. It’s a squat and I have done this repeatedly in the last 7 days to retrieve boxes of books that are quite heavy. This should count as something significant.)
More specifically than that, I love learning something new. I have always been somewhat of an “academic” type–which is just a trumped up, snobbish way of calling myself a “nerd”–and love learning. I am the type of person who decided to learn Mandarin Chinese JUST BECAUSE. I read economics and history books for fun. I memorize new vocabulary words and look-up bits of trivial information just for the sheer pleasure of knowing them. I am HOPING not to be a perpetual student (current graduation date: May 2011. Finally!), but I hope to be a perpetual seeker of knowledge. I hope to never assume there is nothing more for me to learn or to think that I have learned all that I could possibly ever need. When I’m 90 (if I live to be 90)(and am still lucid at 90)(and still have the eyesight to read)(or the hearing for an audio-book)(and if they still have books and/or audio books) I want to be studying up on Shakespeare, or evolution, or the cultural practices of the Nepalese people, or the Jewish-American experience in the early 20th century. Do you think that when I’m 90 I will still be able to bend down to pick up a newly-delivered box of books? I’m crossing my fingers for that.
There are precious few things that will rouse me out of bed at 4:45 in the morning, and that small list dwindles to next-to-nothing when I am on vacation.
An awesome book sale makes the list.
So does a flight, however after the Great Missing of the Flight Debacle of 2009 I will not be booking any flights that require such an early arousal.
This particular trip–as you know–was all about the book sale. HRH and Andrea may have raised their eyebrows a bit when I showed up with my carry-on inside a larger suitcase with a duffel bag stuffed in there somewhere. There may have been a bit of internal mockery when I printed out an enormous spreadsheet of books that I currently own. And when I reminded them that we needed to walk out the door by 5:00 a.m. I felt some interesting energy suggesting “WHAT THE CRAP! ARE YOU A CRAZY PERSON!?!?”
However, when we arrived at the Phoenix Fairgrounds at 5:35 and there were already several hundred people in line ahead of us, my madness began to make sense. When we had filled-to-overfilled a shopping cart (magically procured by HRH, a million thanks!) with approximately two hundred pounds of books, my crazy-talk began to settle in. As we sat and sorted through our loot, I consulted my list and quickly discarded any potential duplicates, and I seemed practical, not crazy. Later that day as we stuffed every square inch of every suitcase and handbag full of books, I think everything fell into place.
The book sale. It’s a big deal.
Six-hundred-thousand books sitting in a warehouse waiting to be adopted. One-hundred-thousand people fighting for rights to this book or that volume. It’s best to throw elbows. Really.
As we sat in line drinking hot chocolate and munching on bagels, playing music and chatting with Steve–the retired dude behind us in line–
Here’s the thing–I have gone to the booksale with friends in previous years. In fact, I have always dragged someone else with me. But I’ve never had the pleasure of attending with book-loving friends. I can hardly explain how awesome it was to rummage amongst the classics and toss each other recommendations. I can think of no better way to get a recommendation than to have a book hurled at your head (carefully and with a lot of aim and accuracy. Obviously. We are not derelicts.), accompanied by the statement “I love this! You must read it!”
In approximately two hours the three of us had completely filled our shopping cart, as well as a couple of bags and as many extra books as we could carry. I don’t know why Barnes & Noble doesn’t have shopping carts for their customers, it really makes one’s experience so much more enjoyable.
I walked away with 63 books for a grand total of $117.50. That, my bibliophile friends, is a STEAL! I have hardback classics and a stack of paperbacks to try. I have a couple of Lonely Planet books to peruse for upcoming vacations. I have a gorgeous illustrated hardback copy of Anne of Green Gables and Heidi that will be loved forever. I found books that were printed in the 1920′s, and ones with tidbits from their previous owners, receipts, lists, notes, a hospital admission form from 1964. I have rounded out my collection of Steinbeck and Ayn Rand and have quadrupled my “To Read” pile. I even bought some Jane Austen and have plans to blunder through, despite really disliking Pride and Prejudice. (I know, I’m supposed to like it, but I don’t. Can we still be friends?)
Next year I think I/we will do things a little differently. I have every intention to camp out in line–this eliminates several problems, the first being having to wake up at 4:45 a.m. while I’m on vacation. Hey, I’ll do it for cheap books, but I’ll try and find a way around it if at all possible.
I have included a list of all the books I brought home, if you have any opinions on any of the below, I would love to hear it. Books that I have already read have an asterisk, which means I have just added approximately sixty volumes to my already towering “To Read” pile. I can’t wait.)
A Long Fatal Love Chase, Louisa May Alcott
A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf
All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery
As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner
Beloved, Toni Morrison
Candide, Voltaire
Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Collections of Shorts Stories of W. Somerset Maugham
Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Czechoslovak Fairy Tales, Parker & Fillmore
Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willla Cather
Dubliners, James Joyce
Essays, Poems and Addresses of Ralph Waldo Emerson
For The New Intellectual, Ayn Rand
Galapagos, Kurt Vonnegut
*Heidi, Johanna Spyri
Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri
Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
Jude the Obscure, Thomas Hardy
Lonley Planet: Australia
*Lord of the Flies, William Golding
Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Love, Toni Morrison
Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert
Metamorphoses, Ovid
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
Naya Nuki, Kenneth Thomasma
Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck
Out of Africa, Isak Dinesen
Palm Sunday, Kurt Vonnegut
Persuasion, Jane Austen
Selected Short Stories of Franz Kafka
Selected Short Stories of William Faulkner
Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen
The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton
The Bonesetter’s Daughter, Amy Tan
The Bostonians, Henry James
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz
The Color Purple, Alice Walker
The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros
The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Invisible Man, H.G. Wells
The Island of Dr. Moreau, H.G. Wells
The Lost Stories of Louisa May Alcott
The Magician, W. Somerset Maugham
The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
The Old Curiosity Shop, Charles Dickens
The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway
The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James
The Prince and the Pauper, Mark Twain
The Rogue Guide to Morocco
*The Scarlett Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne
*The Secret Garden, Francis Hodges Burnett
The Stories of Anton Chekov
The Virtue of Selfishness, Ayn Rand
The War of the Worlds, H.G. Wells
*The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum
To A God Unknown, John Steinbeck
Tortilla Flat, John Steinbeck
Utopia, Thomas More
We The Living, Ayn Rand
Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
Filed under: Bookworm
It is that time of year again. No, not the time of year when everyone falls off the “New Year New Diet” bandwagon. Not the time of year when every retail establishment is smothered in red and pink hearts and barfy sentiments about love. Not the time of year when one feels she will die from lack of Vitamin D due to the dark winter days and pollution so thick it literally blocks out the sun (Thank you, damn Salt Lake Inversion).
It is time to finalize plans to go to Phoenix for the Booksale.
Can I please get a collective SQUEE! from across The Interwebs?
[SQUEE!]
If you are new here, or have amnesia, let me fill you in. Every year Phoenix hosts an absolutely enormous Used Book Sale; 600,000 books are sitting in a warehouse, organized by genre and quietly waiting for someone to adopt them and take them home. (Are you interested yet? Because if you claim to like books AT ALL you should be sitting on the edge of your seat by now.) These books are donated all year long throughout the greater Phoenix area and are then sold, with all proceeds benefiting a literacy program for the metro area. Paperbacks are $1.50, hardbacks are $2-3 dollars, and big, shiny coffee table books are $5-$10 dollars. (Are you drooling yet? You should be!) Due to terribly sad and tear-inducing circumstances completely beyond my control, I couldn’t make it last year. But here’s the post from 2008, a very good year at the Booksale.
Go ahead, go read it. I’ll wait.
Did you see those books?! Stacks of books! Piles upon piles of books! Heaps and mountains of books! Wait…you didn’t click over there? Ok, fine. Be lazy. Allow me to make your life easier by one click:
This photo was taken in the first 10 minutes of the sale, I was standing in the center of the warehouse, which is about 200 yards long and stuffed with books ready to be taken home with me. If you didn’t SQUEE earlier, you can do it now.
[SQUEE!]
People, it is time to rock the booksale! Travel companions Andrea and HRH have been recruited. Plane tickets have been booked. A room has been secured at the Casa de My-Brother-Who-Is-Putting-Me-Up-In-Return-For-My-Saving-His-Place-In-Line-At-The-Booksale. I have put together a spreadsheet of the entire inventory of my current book collection (537 books in my apartment right this minute, for reals). I have made lists of the classics I still need to acquire and the more current stuff I would love to find. These lists are grouped according to the area’s at the booksale for easier location of books on said lists. All lists and spreadsheets will be printed and carefully tucked into my carry-on size suitcase, along with a large, sturdy duffel, and then the whole thing will be stowed in a larger suitcase and checked. Southwest allows you to check two cases for free and I intend to fill both of them with books. One hundred pounds of books, coming home with me via the lovely people at Southwest. If that last statement isn’t the sexiest thing ever, I don’t know what is. Squee and Double Squee!
*Another note: I have now organized every single book I’ve read in the last three years by a 5-star system, so if you are ever curious as to my favorite reads and/or my least favorite reads, it is now documented and periodically updated for your viewing pleasure.
One of my goals for 2009 was to read at least 25 books. While there is no way on earth I will accomplish some of my other goals (write book…ahem…moving along) I did manage to read a solid thirty books, and will most likely finish my current read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, by Thursday evening. I think for 2010 my goal will be to read 40 books. Ambitious? Yes. Impossible? Absolutely not. I’m excited, actually; and I’m taking recommendations.
(Editor’s Note: I have tried to put these in order about 47 different ways; chronological, alphabetical, alphabetical by author, favorite to least favorite, longest to shortest, dewey decimal, pig latin, morse code, best cover art…nothing looks right or flows the way I want it to. So, because we all know I’m far to OCD to have a hodge-podge list hanging out on my blog…I’m going back to alphabetical by title, except for all the books that being with “The”–yeah, those are going right in line using their second word. No one wants to skim through 16 “The ________” titles, it gets boring. So, without further ado…here’s my list, re-reads have an asterisk and all books have a ranking, zero to five stars.)
Books Read in 2009
1434, Gavin Menzies
Sequel to 1421, which I loved, and is about a massive Chinese sailing fleet in the 15th century, commanded by Admiral Zheng and full of all sorts of historical awesomeness regarding the Italian Renaissance and Western/European Explorers. Love. (Also, I’m a nerd.) ****4 Stars
A Passage to India, E. M. Forester
I read this because it’s a “classic”…wasn’t terribly impressed, really. *1 Star
*A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
One of my favorites, led review for the Very Bookish book club experiment. If you have not yet read this book–you should. If you are female and have not yet read this book–you must. *****5 Stars
Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, Louise Rennison
British coming-of-age comedy, absolutely hilarious! Georgia is fourteen, looking for a boyfriend, and down-right hilarious. Seriously, you’ll laugh out loud. ***3 Stars
Anthem, Ayn Rand
At 100-ish pages, this is a good intro to Rand and her style. Try it. If you like it, I have several additional suggestions. ****4 Stars
Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
Why did no one make me read this earlier? I loved this book! It has the same feel as Farenheit 451, and 1984; our lives are taken over by gadgets and government and programs and we have lost real human contact and communication completely. (Of course, I am recommending this to hundreds of strangers I have never and will never meet via The Internet…it’s ironic, I’m aware, just go with it.) *****5 Stars
Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins
I didn’t love this one as much as The Hunger Games, to be honest; hope the third is better. Kat started to grate on my nerves, and she’s remarkably slow-witted for a leading lady in a tough situation, and I hate how she always needs to be rescued and have things explained to her…and I don’t like Peeta. I’m absolutely on Team Gale. ***3 Stars
*Confessions of a Shopaholic, Sophie Kinsella
Sigh–I love this book. Sometimes, I’m super girly I guess. (Confession: I have yet to see the movie because I’m afraid I will not like it was much as I like the book.) ***3 Stars
Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert
I hated this book, and I don’t use that phrase lightly. Ugh. –No Stars
The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery
This was a little tricky to get into, but I loved it. Also part of Very Bookish. This is the story of the inhabitants of a Parisian apartment house, their lives, their hopes, their fears. ***3 Stars
Empress Orchid, Anchee Min
The story of the last Empress of China and how she came to rule. Fascinating. This has a similar style and feel to Memoirs of a Geisha. I am dying to read the next book about the last Empress of China and her 40-year reign that ended last century. ****4 Stars
The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom
This made me think differently about heaven, and the afterlife. It’s religious in a way, without mentioning God, and it’s philosophical and psychological…it’s wonderful. Read it. ****4 Stars
The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
Fascinating, thought-provoking, irritating at times, fabulous. But not a favorite. I found the main characters obnoxiously stubborn and there was far too much time spent on the truly heinous one (and not enough time spent describing buildings, which is why I read it in the first place). ****3 Stars
Getting Stoned with Savages, J. Maarten Troost
Hilarious book detailing 2 year the author spent living in Fiji and Vanuatu. He drinks a lot of kava, he tries to interview a real-life cannibal, and gets himself in all sorts of hilarious situations. ***3 Stars
Gourmet Rhapsody, Muriel Barbery
A follow-up to The Elegance of the Hedgehog; equally quirky, but delightful. This is kind of like Citizen Kane in feel–dying man trying to recapture his childhood. Only he’s a food critic, so all his memories revolve around food. Yes, quite delightful. ****4 Stars
Henry V, Shakespeare
Read in preparation for the Shakespeare Festival, I love this text. Love. Henry V has some of the most moving speeches ever written and some of the most inspiring lines regarding honor (only they spell it honour), country, God and duty. It’s fabulous. Read it with a red pen; underline and make notes in the margins. Seriously. *****5 Stars
The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins
I devoured this book–it’s horrifying and fascinating and gripping. It’s like Gladiator combined with The Truman Show, with a side of Survivor thrown in for good measure. Two dozen teenagers are expected to kill each other to remain alive, while the country watches the whole thing 24-7 for entertainment. Horrifying. Fascinating. Gripping. (Also, I feel this will become a reality somewhere in the next 100 years of bad TV. For realsies.) ****4 Stars
In the Defense of Food, Michael Pollan
A very interesting read, you will rethink everything you eat and teach you what your grandparents knew and your parents forgot–whole foods are better, eat smaller portions. In some ways this justified by own eating habits, and in others it made me want to throw everything away and start over completely. ****4 Stars
The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan
I have no idea why it took me so long to read this book, it is absolutely fabulous. I loved the culture references, the fact that it takes place in San Francisco, the traditions, the struggles…it’s fabulous. I watched the movie years ago in a Mandarin Chinese class (in Chinese…I missed a lot of it) and I am so glad that I took the time to get the whole story, I loved it. ***3 Stars
The Mermaid Chair, Sue Monk Kidd
A great read, but sometimes a bit too “out there” for me to really buy into. I’m not really a mystic-mythical-monastary type of person. A little to New Agey for me. **2 Stars
My Life in France, Julia Child
I absolutely adored this book, it made me want to bake like crazy and cook and invest in a lot of butter. I have not read Julie & Julia, although I did see the movie and enjoyed it. I have been cooking a lot more this year and this book snowballed that hobby. Just thinking about it makes me want to bake something. ****4 Stars
The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan
One of my favorite books read all year; this completely changed the way I view food (I read this first and In Defense of Food as a follow-up). I have started to clear out freezer space for an 1/8th of a cow that I will be purchasing from a local farm with Polyface Farm practices (that’s a good thing, btw) and will be joining a vegetable co-op next year. *****5 Stars
The Pursuit of Happyness, Christopher Gardner
The movie was excellent, the book is better. I initially read this book to inspire me in my sales job, but ended up being more inspired by the hard work and determination of one man–regardless of his profession. ****4 Stars
The Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd
I loved this book; I laughed and I cried. I identified so much with Lily, with her longing for relationship that mattered, for someone who cared for her, for a strong mother figure. My heart ached with the women in the pink house–how could you see such a miserable child and not want to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. Goodness, what a wonderful book–definitely being added to my “Favorites” list. *****5 Stars
The Secret of Lost Things, Sheridan Hay
I liked this book, but the ending seemed too contrived for me to really love it, which is a shame because the entire book takes place inside a massive used bookstore. What’s not to love? The Herman Melville manuscript subplot is tedious and loosy-goosy at best. The albino character is too quirky and odd to be believable. And I never really bought into the whole main character. **2 Stars
Shakespeare: The World as Stage, Bill Bryson
A biography-of-sorts of Shakespeare. Interesting, but so much is here-say it’s hard to stay focused. There is really so little on Shakespeare’s life–we have his plays and that is about it. This book spends 300 pages trying to concoct minute details of his life based on a handful of remaining documents. It’s exhausting to read. Not recommended. *1 Star
Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut
I wish someone had introduced me to this book earlier, what a great piece of literature. This could possibly be described as a “WWII book”…but it’s not. It deals with the bombing of Dresden, and while there are many powerful passages regarding that topic, the book itself is about psychology and memories and fear and interpretation. I have a feeling I will be cleaning out the Vonnegut section of Barnes & Noble on my next trip. ****4 Stars
Paris to the Moon, Adam Gopnik
American in Paris, only he’s a writer, not a mushy romantic. This is kind of a travel-book type of concept, and kind of a memoir-ish concept. Some of the chapters (specifically, the ones on government, bureaucracy, and paperwork) can get really tedious. The chapter about French gyms is hilarious, however. ***3 Stars
Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie
I had always heard this was a dirty book…it’s not, by the way. It’s fantastical. Between Hook and Finding Neverland, I had already heard about 80 percent of the text from this book, but I still absolutely loved reading the whole thing. Peter Pan is arrogant and selfish, but he’s not crass. I was always told there is swearing all over the place (there isn’t) and that Pan was a dirty, dirty boy. Yeah…those who told me that (ahem, mother, ahem), you ought to be ashamed. This book was lovely. ***4 Stars
Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Huston
Great story about a very strong woman. This book, while not long, took me quite a while to read–relatively speaking–due to the incredible voice. The bulk of the story is written in dialogue…specifically, Southern drawl. A really really Southern drawl. I had to read most of it out loud to myself in whispers so I could figure out what on earth was going on. ***3 Stars
These is My Words, Nancy Turner
Love. Love-love-love. Read this book, right now, seriously. The story is of Sarah and begins when she is a teenager living in the Arizona Territory in the late 1800′s. Sarah is a frontier woman; she must learn to live, to hunt, to farm, to find water, to shoot, to survive, to love, to mother…and this is her diary. It is absolutely beautiful. Read it. Now. *****5 Stars
Troilus and Cressida, Shakespeare
Shakespeare’s account of the Trojan War complete with your regular characters; Helen of Troy, Menelaus, Achilles, Hector, Paris, and then the legendary lovers Troilus and Cressida. The language is tricky, and it is not Shakespeare’s best play, in my opinion. But hey, I read it, so it counts…right? ***3 Stars
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Thirty-two books finished, one pending. Not too shabby. I am taking recommendations for next year. What book(s) would you like me to read? What book(s) do you love? What book(s) changed your life? I’m on a Book Reconnaissance Mission, my To-Read pile is dwindling quickly.
One of my goals for this year is to read twenty-five books, at the moment I just finished book twenty-four (The Omnivore’s Dilemma) and have no worries that I will hit my goal by Dec. 31. I haven’t been great about posting book reviews here, perhaps next year I’ll add that goal to The List.
A little while ago Nilsa posted a book review of Julie & Julia and mentioned, in passing, her distaste for Eat, Pray, Love. I was relieved to find another individual who was not gushing about Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir/documentary and was shocked to discover in the comments that most people did not particularly like Eat, Pray, Love.
In my next life I will have some kind of corporate sponsorship and/or independent financing to allow me to travel to exotic places and lounge about eating pasta, relaxing, and meeting handsome men. Someone will purchase, in advance, the artistic rights to my recovery from a major life crisis and I will have the opportunity to spend a solid year wallowing and wading in said recovery because, hey, someone has already ponied up the cash for me to do so.
Wait. Hold on. Seriously?
The premise for Liz Gilbert’s best seller, Eat, Pray, Love, is just that. She and her husband get divorced under emotionally tumultuous (but undefinable) circumstances, her publisher agrees that Liz should spend a year traipsing around Italy, India and Indonesia on the company’s dime and write a book about her experiences. Now, before I get too much farther into this–allow me to explain a few things. Am I jealous that Liz Gilbert managed to swing an all-expenses paid trip around the world? Yes. Do I wish someone would give me a similar opportunity? Yes. Do I think that her experiences helped her to “find herself”? Ummm…not necessarily. In a lot of ways I think it actually hindered her psychological recovery.
I agree that I am not Liz and I don’t know what she was really going through and there is no possibly way to really judge her situation. But here’s the catch, in many ways I do know what she was going through. She wrote it all down, page by self-depreciating, impossible-to-get-through page. Elizabeth Gilbert is a fantastic writer, she can paint metaphors like nobody’s business and I do envy her talent as a writer. But as a memoirist (is that even a word?), she is severely lacking. I was shocked at the lack of honest self critique or even self-reflection. Bad things happened to her, sure. She somehow doesn’t seem to realize that there may have been something in her behavior that contributed to her problems. Similarly, she is completely unaware that by changing her behavior she can change her perspective, and vice versa. Spending a year lounging about the world, eating pasta and putting on strange meditational/self-centered religious ideals is not going to heal you. I really don’t know how many times I can say this; I am loathing the film-version of this book because I will have to hate the whole concept all over again.
Admittedly, I may have had too high of expectations regarding this book. I was married once, I left my husband, I had my own year of recovery with small milestones along the way. I guess I thought I would identify with Liz Gilbert on some level.
Um….FAIL. I didn’t find a single thing in Liz Gilbert’s experience, or the way she describes herself or her life, that I could identify with.
Actually, I take that back. That’s not true, at the very beginning of the book when she has locked herself in the bathroom, and is sitting on the floor sobbing about her life being in shambles…I remember doing that. Vividly. More than once. Okay, so I could identify with a half page of her 331 page memoir. This is not a very convincing statistic.
Alright, I’m done ranting about the emotional crap that is scribbled all over Eat, Pray, Love. Elizabeth Gilbert has a talent as a writer, and I would probably read a completely fictional novel of hers, but I won’t even give away her memoir because I hated it that much. It will be recycled.
And now I’m curious, did you read Eat, Pray, Love? Did you like it? Did you like her writing skill? Or her sentiment? I’m genuinely curious. (Also, I feel it important to mention that if you did like her book I will not judge you and we can still be friends. We can be friends, right? Even if I hated Eat, Pray, Love? Right?)
Filed under: Bookworm
To catch you up: The Booksale takes place in Phoenix every February. I have gone for as long as I have known it existed. 600,000 books are sold in two days, $1 for paperback and $2 for hardback. Clearly, this is the most awesome thing ever. Check it out here and here, mark your calendars and I’ll see you in Phoenix next year.
I started planning my book-buying extravaganza trip to Phoenix last February. I made mental lists of the books I wanted. I studied the layout of the booksale. I plotted the best way to hit all the sections I wanted to pillage in the most efficient order. There were spreadsheets.
In addition to planning my way around the booksale, I also made lists of places I’d like to visit in Phoenix. I’ve been to the city several times, what with the booksale runs and all, but I haven’t really done anything but the booksale. This year Handsome & I were planning on being in Phoenix for a few extra days and I was dead-set on making those few days count.
Goodness, the Booksale is legendary in my mind and–quite possibly–my most looked-forward-to event of the year. Twelve months of planning, dreamy, list-making. All for a few hours in a warehouse with hundreds of thousands of books and thousands of bibliophiles. Mmmmmm, I get excited just thinking about it.
Six weeks ago I emailed a friend of mine to see if we could crash at her house. Handsome & I stayed there last year and she assured me then that we were welcome again. Of course I emailed her, just to double check. She responded with a “COME ON DOWN!” Saweet! A few weeks later I emailed again with an approximate itinerary and my friend responded again with a “Can’t wait to see you!”
I printed out directions. I finalized my lists. I packed. I checked my email one last time before going to work and–straight from work–hitting the road to Phoenix. There was an email from my Phoenix friend, and as I read it I couldn’t help but feel my throat close off and, admittedly, a tear or two fall. We wouldn’t be able to stay there after all. Something had come up, nothing dramatic or tragic, no one was hurt or in danger. But we wouldn’t be able to stay there. May I remind you, I was practically walking out the door. There was no time to re-plan. No time to make other arrangements. No time to edit the spreadsheets to somehow arrange housing. And, what with the Booksale being on Valentine’s Weekend, and current budgetary restrictions, there was no way I could splurge for a hotel on such short notice. Well, I suppose I could…but that would blow all of my book-buying money, and frankly, that just defeats the purpose, now doesn’t it.
I understand last-minute “emergencies” and changes in plans and all that…but what. the. hell. I am not blaming my Phoenix friend, it wasn’t really something she could control. I am blaming The Universe. What on earth did I do to earn this? Talk about major disappointment, I can’t even describe how incredibly sad I felt. And hurt. And pissed off at The World. My book-buying pilgrimage that I have been looking forward to for a solid 12 months; cancelled at the last minute. I’m still heart-broken about the whole thing, actually.
Handsome & I had a lovely staycation here, and he did the truly gentlemanly thing and took me on my own book-buying spree at Barnes & Noble for my birthday. (Can I hear a collective “Awwwww!”) We had sushi for lunch, went shopping, ordered dinner to go, went to the movies with my best friend & her hubby, tried a new ice-cream place, took a couple of afternoon naps, slow-danced, played around in the snow and snuggled while watching TiVo. It really was a perfect weekend. It wasn’t my anticipated weekend, but it was perfect.
Also, in better news, my brother is moving to Phoenix in a few weeks and he is obligated to put me up next year for the Booksale. And he will have a pool with a waterfall. Yes, plans for next year’s Booksale are already in place, I have all those spreadsheets after all.
Filed under: Bookworm
I haven’t done timely book reviews for ages. However, I feel like it is high time to get myself back in gear and not only read books, but discuss them on the wide world of the Internets. I joined Very Bookish to get my reading/discussing/posting habit back, um, habit-like. (If you haven’t checked out Very Bookish, you should. It’s awesome. It’s like a good friend, and your favorite coffee shop, and a trip to Barnes & Noble all at the same time.)
Also, while we talking books, can I just SQUEE for a minute about my upcoming book trip? Remember last year when I went to Phoenix for the most awesome booksale of the year? Yeah, it’s that time of the year again. Roxy, Handsome & I are going on a road trip in two weeks! You wait in line for the midnight release of Twilight? I drive two thousand miles to go to a booksale. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.
Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik
This was a last-minute purchase while standing in line at the bookstore. The author moved to Paris for 5 years when his son was born because he hated how his friend’s kids talked incessantly about Barney and Hannah Montana. This book reads like a series of essays on the differences between life in France and life in New York / America. Some are hilarious, some are ironic, and some–the ones on French economics–may not be completely fascinating to you (hello, Nerd Alert), but I absolutely loved this take on “The Other Side of the Pond” story. I’m not sure about the theory of exporting your kid to avoid having to deal with Barney and Nickelodeon, but I’ve heard of worse ideas. Besides, I wouldn’t mind moving to Paris for five years, the bread alone is enough reason to make the trip!
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.
I initially picked up this book for Very Bookish, at the suggestion of Nancy Pearl Wannabe, and–unfortunately for me–I read the entire thing start to finish in one night. Starting at 11:00 pm, finishing somewhere around o-dark-thirty and waking up for a FREAKING early meeting. Clearly, this is a book worth reading. Compelling story, brilliant and disturbing plot line, I was drawn in hook, line and sinker immediately. I wanted to know what happened to Katniss and Peeta. I want to know the relationship between the two of them, and I also want to know how they interact with their home district after the Games are over. The psychological implications of televising teenagers killing each other is appalling. (Hello, Reality TV.) I love the characters of this book, and the plot lines, although some of the plot twists are less than twisty, were quite brilliant.
The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom.
Albom’s book Tuesdays with Morrie is one of my all-time favorite reads, and if you liked Tuesdays…well, this is nothing like Tuesdays. I loved it and it gave me an entirely new perspective on the afterlife; having quite strong opinions on the afterlife myself it was refreshing to read a perspective that wasn’t bashing me over the head with dogma or hyper-crazy religiousity. I loved Eddie, I loved hearing about his life in reverse, it’s the kind of biography that, frankly, you don’t read that often. Kind of a Benjamin Button type of scenario, but starting with a death and moving forward instead of a birth and moving on. People, I absolutely loved this book–I highly suggest you pick this up and read it and love it.
Anthem by Ayn Rand.
I read Atlas Shrugged over the summer and absolutely loved the book, the plot, the characters, everything. Anthem is a story about individual assertion, about breaking away from the masses and finding your own way. Anthem takes place in a future world where the good of the group as a whole takes precedence over every, single, personal preference. Ok, I know there are many of you who–in light of a certain presidential speech–have no problem with this concept. I have a HUGE problem with this concept. It is socialism in it’s earliest form and that just gives me the creeps. The book is only about a hundred pages long and fairly easy to guess the ending and the twists. But the theory behind Anthem is the basis for Rand’s intellectual theories as well as her other books, which is why I wanted to read this book before launching into The Fountainhead.
Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella.
I know, you’ve heard about the book, the movie, the clothes-horse obsession…do you love it too? Because I LOVE it! I wandered into a used book store and found a gently loved copy of Shopaholic and, admittedly picked it up because of it’s cover. I read it, I made myself a little snack, and I read it again. Yes, the plot is cute and the romantic plot-line is charming and blah blah blah. I love it for the descriptions of the clothes; The Girl in the Gray Cardigan, The Girly in the White Swirly Coat, the Girl in the Purple Jeans. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve used that same type of logic to justify bright orange shoes, or a turquoise blue scarf, or generally anything that is super-fantastic.
