Spring Reading

Delicious thunderstorm outside today—the kind where the sky provides a dark blue backdrop to the budding trees whose new leaves look almost neon green and the pink buds fuchsia; thunder growls and lightning answers in broad flashes.

If I weren't at work now, I'd be in bed, resting a hot mug of coffee on my sternum and using the other hand to hold up one of the following books against my knees (I'm currently reading/starting the following books):

The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance: A Memoir —Elna Baker

This book is like the Mormon answer to Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz, only cheekier. I haven't laughed out loud at a book in a long time but Baker has cracked me up multiple times with her funny memoir. A lovely little chick lit romp (but it's a memoir so it's okay).

This Is Where I Leave You —Jonathan Tropper
Don't know, haven't started it but I'm very excited about this dysfunctional family dramedy. And it already has two things going for it: it starts with a sex scene (so my other book clubbers have told me—I think they were trying to warn me as I'm perceived as the most naive member of the group (rightly so)) and I like the cover design.

The Orthodox Heretic: And Other Impossible Tales —Peter Rollins

Peter Rollins' talks have been rocking my world. He's a self-termed pyrotheologian promoting the idea that what we need is more doubters of God and fewer believers of God. He makes the point that one can fill stadiums with "believers" but getting people to doubt and ask intelligent questions about their faith rather than following their feelings is what will fortify and grow individual and corporate faith. Anyway, this is a tiny book of parables he wrote and I've only read one so far and I plan to read them slowly (which he encourages in the introduction of the book).

The Holiness of God —R.C. Sproul

Mum made me read a chapter out loud to her the other day. I had just used three curse words during a work vent and I think she was worried about the well being of my soul. I flipped through the chapter and saw that it was a good 15 pages. I said "no way, we'll read a few pages then you can read the rest yourself." Fifteen pages later I set the book down and told her "we should do this more often." I forgot how much I appreciate Sproul's noncondescending take on theology and how much he crams into a page. Plus, discussing faith with my Mum is the best. She brings the angsty 20-something feelings I have together with her years of study and wisdom to make for great discussion.

Moby Dick —Herman Melville
Harry selected this read and we're both going to read it before the end of 2011.
I'm going to finish it first.
That's not saying much though because he basically reads as many pages (600+) easily in a week or two of studying philosophy so I have a clear advantage. We'll see how far it gets me. But can I just say that it's hot to have a boyfriend who suggests we tackle classic literature together?


Disappointment with God —Philip Yancey
A.K.A. most depressing title of a book ever. However, this book is asking three questions that have tortured me for some time:
Is God unfair?
Is God silent?
Is God hidden?
Yancey doesn't sooth with platitudes, misapplied Bible verses, or "remember that time when God was nice to you? That's how you know he's fair, present, and listening..." Rather, Yancey intelligently and critically addresses the three questions above and doesn't ask the reader to agree with him necessarily. He asserts himself confidently through his writing but gives you that lovely author-to-reader trust that says "so there you have it, take it or leave it but thanks for listening."



I also have The Help and The Hunger Games on my bed stand since I'm not above purchasing these books under the pretense that they're for Mom then adopting them as my own once she's read them. The one good thing about popular fiction is that it's fun to share them at the office, among friends, etc.

Read on and feel free to ask for or give recommendations.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
Donald Miller
Friends warned me to set aside a lot of time when I started this book because I'd read it in two days; they were wrong. I read it in one.

The book is about how Miller gets an offer to turn his bestseller Blue Like Jazz into a movie and the process of writing the screenplay. In writing an autobiographical screenplay, Miller is asked to present a cinema-worthy version of himself and discovers that his "story" is just not that compelling.


Miller realizes that he is being called to "write a better story" for himself. Somewhere between riding his bike across the U.S., hiking Machu Picchu, and starting The Mentoring Project, Miller lets the Author write him into a better character.

"You can call it God or a conscience, or you can dismiss it as that intuitive knowing we all have as human beings, as living storytellers; but there is a knowing I feel that guides me toward better stories, toward being a better character. I believe there is a writer outside ourselves, plotting a better story for us, interacting with us, even, and whispering a better story into our consciousness."

Miller talks about overcoming fear and addresses the problem of having over-elevated expectations about people, possessions, and even God: "When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are. And when you stop expecting material possessions to complete you, you'd be surprised at how much pleasure you get in material possessions. And when you stop expecting God to end all your troubles, you'd be surprised how much you like spending time with God."

Like me (and countless other people), Miller had to unlearn about the God he knew growing up—a god that inspires guilt and fear—in order to trust Him to write a better story. "As a kid, the only sense I got from God was guilt...The real Voice is stiller and smaller and seems to know, without confusion, the difference between right and wrong and the subtle delineation between the beautiful and profane. It's not an agitated Voice, but ever patient as though it approves a million false starts."

Miller doesn't treat God as a fearsome ruler or swing too far the other way, thinking of God as a fairy godfather; he treats God with as much respect as he does familiarity. Miller acknowledges that while God can help write a better story, He does not promise a perfect one: "Growing up in church, we were taught that Jesus was the answer to all our problems. We were taught that there was a circle-shaped hole in our heart and that we had tried to fill it with the square pegs of sex, drugs, and rock and roll; but only the circle peg of Jesus could fill our hole. I became a Christian based, in part, on this promise, but the hole never really went away. To be sure, I like Jesus and I still follow him, but the idea that Jesus will make everything better is a lie. It's basically biblical theology translated into the language of infomercials. The truth is, the apostles never really promise Jesus is going to make everything better here on earth...I think Jesus can make things better but I don't think he's going to make things perfect. Not here, not now."

"It's interesting that in the Bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes, the only practical advice given about living a meaningful life is to find job you like, enjoy your marriage, and obey God. It' as though God is saying, write a good story, take somebody with you, and let me help."

My fear of writing a better story is obvious: I'm worried where God will ask me to go and what He'll ask me to do. Also, I worry proximity to God will mean losing too much of myself. I'm not that great or anything, but at least I know who I am.

I worry that if I get too close to the source of all good that somehow I'll be absorbed; I'll never swear, or drink, or think about sex again. I'll become this Jesus drone—that God will steer me back to the Lutheran bubble, ask me to preach apologetics, and cause me to inexplicably volunteer to bring ambrosia salads for the church potlucks.

But what if it's not like that at all—what if proximity to God meant that I could be more myself than ever? Perhaps closeness to God would mean I could love more and judge less, have confidence to approach my Christian community with my biggest doubts and hardest questions, and read the Bible less for platitudes and more because it's full of stories about people even more messed up than me. What if it meant that, overall, I could live a better story?

I guess there's only one way to find out. I don't have a good conclusion for this post but I think I've at least got an inciting incident for my story.

Fall Reading

Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck
This, my fourth Steinbeck novel, was recommended by a dear friend—I’m so glad he suggested I read it because I feel sure it’s about the last of the Steinbeck novels I would’ve gotten around to. It’s about Danny, a poor, former soldier (WWI) who returns to Monterey to an unexpected inheritance: two houses. Danny uneasily slips into the role of a landed man and inadvertently is given a chance to reconcile his new station by the fact that his friends—each a bum in their own way—begin to matriculate first into the spare house, then into Danny’s own home. The plot tracks various episodes in the paisanos’ lives and their forays into love, theft, scheming, camaraderie, religion, all soaked in the men’s dipsomania.

I found the story really slow initially but realized it was me, not the book that wasn’t measuring up. Once I began to examine the unique personalities of the friends and read into some of the symbolism of the book, it began to come to life. Three quarters into the book the reader unexpectedly starts to feel the pull of the ending and begins to regret that some dramatic conclusion looms, as they always do in Steinbeck novels. The end hits hard, not just once but twice. The plot resolves poetically and the only way it can and would only be considered simply a “sad” ending if the reader has missed the point of the climax entirely.

Currently reading:
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
Jackson is the famous author of The Lottery, a short story published in The New Yorker in 1948 that evoked such a strong response that many unsubscribed from the magazine entirely, sending Jackson hate mail by the boatload. Even my Mum, renowned at our Lutheran school for her liberal literary tastes said of the story, “it’s not the sort of story you want to be known for teaching, sure I would recommend it to some of my students but I never taught it.” Despite its macabre theme and unsettling ironic points, the piece is one of the most anthologized short stories in American literature.

I started We Have Always Lived in the Castle yesterday over my lunch and when I physically returned to my desk, mentally I remained behind in the pages of Jackson’s eerie novel. I was singing its praises to Peter over coffee last night and, as he’s a writer, I asked him how an author manages to engross the reader when a) the protagonist is unlikable, b) the action is practically non-existent, and c) the passage of time is slow. He explained that the author has somehow made me care about the main character without my actually knowing it and is thus able to interest me in every move she makes. Whatever it is, I’m hooked and I can’t wait to get off of work today so I can be alone with my book.

Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
I’ve taken up another cinderblock of a book in Atlas Shrugged. Peter and I read The Fountainhead this time last year simultaneously (which means he started it and I followed close on his heels like a little sister) and we’ve opted to do the same with Atlas Shrugged this season. It’s good for our friendship; he’s a hermit and I’d rather be living in a commune so we’re able to discuss Rand’s philosophy on society heatedly (and we love any excuse to argue with one another). I can’t wait to dig in. I found her very surprisingly readable last year.


Want to read:
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott—it’s time to finally read this, don’t worry, I’ve got the Kleenex ready. Besides, I am named after one of the characters (albeit, the most boring March sister…oh well, the name “Meg” is prettier than “Jo” and I can only hope I meet a better end than Beth).





Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy


Possession by A.S. Bryatt—I will always associate this book with my overnight stay at the Denver airport last year trying to get home for Christmas and Alison’s wedding. It’s dense and I’m worried I’ll have to restart the whole thing, but it’s really well written so it’s worth it.

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen—Mum and I are reading this one together whenever we get around to it.

The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck—I’m ready to add a sixth to my Steinbeck collection.


A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller—don’t tell Mom, but I’m 99% sure it will be under the Christmas tree this year and I can’t wait to devour it; I’ve heard good things.













The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver


The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender—the plot is about a woman who
can detect the emotions of whomever is cooking for her (her mother feels certain discontent when she makes lemon cake) and her brother and father have equally unusual gifts as well. It’s a magic realism book which could either be genius or completely awful but I’m optimistic.

Great House by Nicole Krauss—who also wrote The History of Love, which was so sad but very good, I will give her one more chance in this one. It intrigues me.

The Last of the Summer Reading

How it's already the middle of August I'm sure I don't know. I feel like I just got out my summer dresses, just found warm-weather recipes I wanted to try, and just got around to buying sunscreen and already it's nearly September. But I'm not complaining. Unused to the summer heat of Nebraska after living in San Diego for the last two years, I am prepared to welcome fall with open arms.

What I read on vacation:

One Day was a good book, a big one, but a good one. Someone who reviewed the book ont he back cover said it best, "it's the best weird love story since The Time Traveler's Wife." And while The Time Traveler's Wife made a good book and a bad movie, I have a hunch that the opposite is true for One Day which is slated to star Anne Hathaway as the frumpyish love interest, Emma, of the swarthy Dex (Dexter). What sets the book aside is its formatting which, at worst can be called gimicky, at best is a refreshing take on your typical love story. The novel spans a couple of decades but takes place on a single date—15 July, St Swithin's Day, destined to be the anniversary of several key events in the lives of the two principals. So every July 15 we revisit the couple from 1988 to 2005 and witness what happens to them.
Often sad and sometimes anxiety-inducing, overall this book delivered but I would suggest you hold out for the movie before you commit to the 400+ pages.

Currently Finishing:
I have about 25 pages left in Searching for God Knows What, Donald Miller's follow up to his raging success, Blue Like Jazz. Not nearly as good as Blue Like Jazz, Miller still takes the reader on a not-too-uptight journey of Christian philosophy and in his usual comforting way breaks down intimidating parts about being a Christian without taking away from the majesty of God (which makes him comparable to C.S. Lewis in my mind). Much less organized than Blue Like Jazz's lovely topical apologetic prose, I found this book less engrossing but still definitely worthwhile. Commendable job, Mr. Miller; I will be reading your newest release as soon as I get the chance, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

Currently Reading:

I've taken on the beast: Anna Karenina. A book club through Grace Chapel is going to review the book in September (they take the summer off and, thus, chose a book bigger than a cinder block) and I didn't want to miss my chance to discuss the heavy read (literally and figuratively) with fellow church goers and book lovers. I've almost completed part one of eight (Russian authors have no reserve—thank you Tolstoy). So far I must admit that it's dense and delightful at the same time. Will keep you posted on this (eternal) process.

Also reading A Separate Peace by John Knowles as I assigned it to my Edgy Bookworms reading group. I was looking for a classic under 200 pages and found this and so far it's wonderful. It's such a seemingly simple story with such big, philosophical implications. What I LOVE about this book is that the author will deliver an emotional blow very subtley and he doesn't, in a literary sense, elbow you in the ribs as if to ask "Did you see what I did there? Did you get it?" and give away his subplot. It's a wonderfully humble way of telling the story and puts confidence in the audience culminating in appreciation from the reader as well as a sense of accomplishment that the meaning was not lost on him/her.

That's all! I've started The Billionaire's Vinegar but won't be finishing any time soon now that Anna K. and I are hanging out. Happy reading!

It Should've Been Called "Never Put Me Down"

Oh my word, the best read I've had in a loooooooooooong time. It kicked Little Bee's butt even, it was that good. Of course, I'm a HUGE sucker for a good dystopia novel so take this with that grain of salt.

Never Let Me Go, by British author Kazuo Ishiguro, was recommended by the same coworker who recommended Little Bee (it's not that big a coincidence, actually; we are in the same book club, we're called the "Edgies").

Never Let Me Go is a beautiful novel about children being raised in a British boarding school that eerily focuses on physical health while ensuring their students' knowledge of the outside world remains anemic. The reader soon figures out what isn't right about this boarding school and the narrator's mellow narrative, sometimes infuriatingly calm, tells a horror story with indifference and a resignation to the only normalcy she's ever known.

The book is a science fiction novel robed in praises from critics, stylish prose, and a sophisticated backdrop. Time magazine voted the piece one of the all time 100 novels written since 1923. Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth will be known by next generations as great figures in fiction; they are as hauntingly unforgetable as the story they inhabit.

I can't recommend this book highly enough, though, for those of you like my mother who don't read sad books, there's good news for you. The movie is coming out this fall! I am already singing its praises because 1) Alex Garland, the same screenwriter for 28 Days Later had the screenplay for the movie written in 2005 even before the book came out, 2) Cinematography is by Adam Kimmel wo did Capote and Lars and the Real Girl, 3) it stars Kiera Knightly who is discerning about the films she chooses and Andrew Garfield who is the new "it" import from across the pond. All I can say is get excited. The movie drops September 15, 2010.

Reading next: Brief Encounters with Che Guevara short story collection, People of the Book & The Hummingbird's Daughter

Book Buzz

I just finished Little Bee, a novel recommended to me by my dear coworker, Kori. I like this book more than I can say (but, of course, that won't stop me from trying to articulate myself nonetheless). Kori said that it's the kind of book she just wants to read to everyone (part of it, that is) because it has so many beautiful moments in it.

If I were to outline the plot—which I never would because I try to never give away a story—it would read as a horribly sad book. Instead, the optimism of the narrator, Little Bee, and the excellence of the writing cover all manner of sins and sadnesses. Please take a moment to read this excerpt; you won't be sorry you did:

"On the girls brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.

In a few breaths time I will speak some sad words to you. But you must hear them the same way we have agreed to see scars now. Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive. The next thing you know, something fine will happen to her, something marvelous, and then she will turn around and smile."

Also, the plot could have been drawn from a grab bag of ideas at a writer's semniar: a nigerian refugee, a suicide, a four-year-old boy who refuses to take off his batman costume, an affair, a fashion magazine editor—it shouldn't work, but Chris Cleave ensures that it does. Cleave has given us a better-than-most sample of the new style of writing which, like most new things, points back to a more classic way of story telling that had almost been lost.

Don't read this if you truly can't tolerate sad things, but I'm pretty wimpy and impatient with sad books (no Oprah picks here, my friends) and I loved it.

Cleave is also the man who brought us Incendiary, a book set in England about a wife and mother who is making love to another man while the television in her apartment broadcasts a soccer match when both activities are interrupted by a terrorist act at the soccer stadium, the TV screen obscured by thick grey smoke and the wife and mother's horrible realization that her husband and son were surely at the scene of the attack during her indescretion. This book is famous for eerily predicting the bombings on the London Tube in 2005, the book hit British bookstores that same day. A coincidence which lead to a fair amount of criticism for Cleave.

What I'm reading next: People of the Book.

Summer Reading List (so far...)

Here’s my list so far, but I am desperate for ideas for summer reading. Can you help me find a book that takes place by the ocean or somewhere exotic and tropical? Something like The Life of Pi, The Wide Sargasso Sea, or Island of the Blue Dolphins (a childhood favorite)? Please please comment if you know of a good one!


Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
—I loved this book. It’s a graphic novel of Iran in the 1980s to 1990s of the life of a girl from childhood to adulthood as she survived revolution, failed relationships, misogynistic oppression, and her fierce loyalty to her family and her struggle with patriotic identity. Not as poignant as the Maus books nor as climactic, this book still gave a great snapshot of what it must have been like to live this girl’s life and, as a graphic novel will, once you get to reading it’s hard to put down because the pictures and words almost flicker to life so it’s like you’re watching a movie rather than reading thought bubbles. I highly recommend.

The Little Giant of Aberdeen County by Tiffany Baker
—A book club pick for May; I’m not loving it but neither do I hate it. The author uses metaphors that shouldn’t work but do. It’s about two sisters, one beautiful and one so big that she’s a veritable giant in height and breadth living in the country and has a touch of magic realism, like the movie “Big Fish” or something.

Vanity Fair by William Thackeray
—I watched the movie starring Reese Witherspoon and was reminded how much I enjoyed this fabulously lush social commentary satirizing 19th century Britain. I can’t believe how many similarities lie between that period and today and it’s little comfort to know that the world of 1850s Britain bears such a close resemblance to our present vanity fair (taken from John Bunyan’s allegorical story The Pilgrim’s Progress where vanity fair describes a countryside where vanity and worship of worldly things is king). What would Thackery have said about Glamour and Vogue magazine, I wonder? This book is absolutely wonderful. I have much left to read but I love what I’ve finished.

Gods in Alabama by Joshilyn Jackson
—Had higher hopes; it’s basically junk food lit but I promised an old friend I no longer have contact with that I would read it. Not something I’d widely recommend, but if one must read it, summer is certainly the season. It’s about a woman who left her southern hometown to get away from her past and the oppression of small-town life but is summoned back though she swore she’d never return. She brings back a boyfriend her family will highly disapprove of and has to cope with the secret she left behind and decide whether to divulge it to those closest to her or bury it deeper inside. I’m not quite finished with this one but will push through. I has good momentum, but I’m lacking connection with the characters.

Never Let Me Goby Kazuo Ishiguro
—Recommended by a coworker, Kori, I can’t wait to read this sci-fi book that landed itself among the TIME 100 best English-language novels between 1923–2005. It sounds a little like that movie with Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johannson did, “The Island” but much more sophisticated. It’s about a boarding school where the students are clones of real-world owners who had them created in order to harvest compatible body parts if necessary to extend the owner’s life should disease or calamity strike. I am such a sucker for dystopian novels and I can’t wait to read this highly acclaimed piece.

Naked by David Sedaris
—Hmm, I read one of the excerpts of this book in a college English class and I was one of the few who was actually not in love with his prose. I don’t find his humor especially titillating but I think it would be good for me to read his style of writing for something different. I also plan to read Dress Your Family in Denim and Corduroy at some point.

The Hummingbird’s Daughterby Luis Alberto Urrea
—I know little about this book or its plot, but I know it took the author two decades to write it (that’s five years less how long I’ve been alive!). I believe it will be a magic realism novel—something about a girl dying and coming back to life and being able to form milagros (miracles) of healing. It’s a long ‘un so we’ll see if I get to it.

Books I said I would read but haven't yet (hopefully to be finished this summer):
—The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
—Possession by A.S. Bryatt
—Raise the Red Lantern by Su Tong (one third of the way through)
—Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller
—Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

Also Reading

Stiff by Mary Roach. As it turns out, I should've specified "Stiff (book)" when searching for this photo on google (oops!).
Anyway, so far it's great; I'm a little more than halfway through and the author does a good job of disconnecting your mind from thoughts that lead you to think of cadavers as people while maintaining a measure of respect for the "remains" or "expired." Read it to find out why it's okay for us to do visitations and viewings of our deceased loved ones and how the trend started, how long a cremation takes and the surprising resiliance of the body under such stress, how bodies are used to solve crimes, test armor, and generate humane weapons (oxymoron? not quite if it's the difference between a fatality and a momentary debilitation of the offender). So far a great book for the none-too-squeamish.

Quick Lit Snack

Just finished: Saturday with my brand spankin' new book club! I feel very privilaged to be a part of a selective book club made up of fun, dynamic women who love reading as much as I do. This was our last read by Ian McEwan (better known as the guy who did Atonement) and it wasn't so much a likeable book as it was thought-provoking, very well written, and carefully constructed. I never would've picked it for myself but I'm glad I read it; isn't that the whole purpose of belonging to a book club? So one can read those books that didn't quite make it onto one's own radar?

Currently reading three books, one more than the others: Raise the Red Lantern by Su Tong, Possession by A.S. Bryatt, and Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller.
I'm focused on reading Raise the Red Lantern right now as it's a shorty and I knew it would read pretty quickly since its translation from Chinese to English is pretty concise and straightforward. It's good, I appreciate it for its historical significance more than I do the story itself so far, but we'll see where it goes once I'm more than one-third of the way in.

Possession I've been working on since Christmas and it's fabulous but it's also a denser read than I've undertaken in a while. I've stopped reading it b/c I need to review what I've read already after taking a three-month break from it.

Searching for God Knows What might turn into a devotion book more than a read-for-pleasure book. Maybe a chapter a day some week or something. It's very good—certainly comparable to Blue Like Jazz which I'm still raving about, two years later.

What are you reading?

Reading Update

I stopped reading Under the Dome. It just made me feel icky inside, and having read 1/4 of the book, I feel I gave it a fair chance. Someone should tell Mr. King that perversion in prose is barely tolerable when it is purposeful to the plot, but entirely inexcusable when used to flesh out what began as a truly intriguing yarn. Most disappointed to have to quit a novel, something generally against my principle.

2010 Reads

Currently Reading: Under the Dome by Stephen King
This is my first Stephen King novel! Everyone knows him to be the "King" of horror, but he's also penned non-scary novels like Hearts in Atlantis and The Green Mile. I would never permit myself to read one of his horror novels (my curiosity is too strong to indulge it); especially since I truly think there's a touch of evil about this guy. However, when I learned that he'd released a sci-fi, I was intrigued.
This novel has been brewing in his mind since the 70s, but it wasn't until November 2009 that King published this sci-fi novel molded around a small town in his home state of Maine.
I won't tell you anything you won't learn on the back cover, but the story is about how, inexplicably, a small town becomes isolated by a dome. The dome itself is invisible, so no one sees it when it appears, but they immediately witness the horrific effects of its presence: a woodchuck is suddenly severed in half, a plane flying innocently through the sky crashes into thin air, a woman's hand is amputated as she's gardening when the dome suddenly encloses the community.
The town is faced with more than just the immediate disasters though as food, energy, and water all become quickly diminishing resources and the community is forced to look to each other for survival.

It is a genuinely thrilling plot to me, but continue to be thrilled by the plot but I am disappointed to find that King is actually a much trashier writer than I thought. He could be great, but he opts to be publishable as he dirties up the story with a graphic domestic abuse incident, and overtly sexual/perverted asides. It remains to be seen if the plot is worth mucking through these parts of the story. If things don't turn around soon, I will desist reading the book; for now, I'm wondering if his purpose for making these people so unlikeable is b/c he plans to kill them off later...that would at least make sense. Will let you know if I finish it or not.

Just finished reading: The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
It's worth the time it takes to get through this brick of a book. The end is a little drawn out, but all in all, Rand had given us a dazzling novel in The Fountainhead. I haven't read anything this original in a very long time, if ever. Her philosophy is realized in her protagonist, Howard Roarke, who will forever stand out as one of the greats in modern literature. There's much more I could say about the novel, but suffice it to say that I enjoyed it without agreeing with its overarching philosophy. Read it and you'll see what I mean.
(Also, it's really a quite easy read; don't let its size intimidate you. It has good momentum and it's well written without being too lofty.)

Also Reading:
Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller
Have much to go yet, so far as I can tell, it's an extension of Blue Like Jazz, which is just fine with me.
Possession by A.S. Bryatt
I'd read her short story collection, Little Black Book of Stories, which were totally quirky and not exactly enjoyable, more experiential. However, Possession is shaping up to be a wonderfully cerebral, high-brow literary mystery/romance that waxes poetic, but in good ways (one will find a variety of yummy little poems and short stories sprinkled throughout the novel that all lend to the richness of the real, ongoing plot). So far I really like it, it was hard to get into and it takes more mental investment than some of the other things I'm reading, but it's worth the effort so far (about one quarter into the book, it's long: 576 pages).
Still Reading: Julie and Julia I'll get through it, but it's somewhat overrated in my mind.
Forever Reading: The God Delusion I just have to sit down and do it. I am so unused to nonfiction that I've just made getting through this book harder for myself. New year's resolution: read more nonfiction...but read T.G.D. first. I owe it to a good friend and to myself as a way to evaluate and validate my beliefs.

Five Great Things Friday

Today I'm recommending five great Halloween reads. I feel I'm especially well suited to do this as I am a weenie when it comes to the scary stuff and, therefore, won't be recommending anything too errie or dark.


1) Dracula by Bram StokerI just finished this book and I am obsessed with it! It was so very different than I thought it would be and even hotter than I expected. Recommendation: read "sex" into pretty much everything that transpires between the humans and the vamps and you won't even believe this thing got published at the turn of the century! Well done, Victorians, well done. NOTE: If I'd had my choice and a little extra cash to burn, I would've read Jae Lee's illustrated version of the book, (its cover is seen here in the picture); it's magnificently done.



2) Frankenstein by Mary ShelleyPrepare yourself, this is a slow read but the rewards are great. You have to wade through a lot of mental meandering (not all of which is absolutely necessary) but you'll notice as you're wandering around the rich, well-written prose that all the sudden stuff starts happening. This is a wonderful science fiction piece, in its essence that was so far ahead of its time it's not even funny. If you want to really do your homework, check out the circumstances under which this story of a modern Prometheus was written.


3) In Cold Blood by Truman CapoteWhat's spookier than a true story? This is the story of a cold blooded murder of the Clutter family in Kansas. Super, who wants to read that? Consider the author. Truman Capote had just had raving success with his short novel Breakfast at Tiffany's and wasn't being taken seriously by his cohorts in the NYC literary society so he and his bestie Harper Lee (of To Kill a Mockingbird) headed to the midwest so Capote could write his harrowing piece about the grisly murder that forever changed the town of Holcomb. The book is spooky on many levels, the stories of the murderers before they committed the crime, the crime itself, the town's reaction, and Capote himself as he observes the whole event cooly, envoking emotion at will and arguably exploiting the murderers (they're just a couple of killers, right? What else are they good for besides wringing the story out of them, it's not like they're people...).


4) Wicked by Gregory MaguireI actually really enjoyed this book, for all its hype. It's a lot more twisted than its on-stage counterpart and it's an adult read with regards to language and vocabulary (keep the dictionary by your side!). This book makes you feel like The Wizard of Oz conspired to only give you part of a much richer, more politically charged story.


5) The Turn of the Screw by Henry JamesThis little read is freaky! It's short, so it packs a punch; one of the original psychological thrillers, this book is scary (or is it all in your head?). It was brilliantly interpreted for film and renamed The Innocents starring Deborah Kerr, HIGHLY recommended even if you don't make time to read the book.

Other good Halloween Reads:
For a shorty, read The Lifted Veil by George Eliot
The play, The Crucible is absolutely fantastic by Arthur Miller
If you want to play it really tame, check out Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte and get wrapped up in this gothic romance.
The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories by Angela Carter is a great collection of retold fairy tale stories that are quite twisted, don't read if you're not a little weird yourself.
Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson is always good
Finally, read at least one Frank Peretti novel in your life; this Christian thriller author manages his craft if not brilliantly then at least with skill as a writer balancing spirituality with the horror genre. When you contemplate the spiritual world, the two are not so distantly related as we might like to think.

What I Said I'd Read vs. What I Actually Read

Summer is gone and with it the season of summer reading. Let's see what I read versus what I said I would read. I said I would read:
Nocturnes by John Connolly

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto by Chuck Klosterman


Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky

The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Classic Regency Romance - Now with Ultraviolent Zombie Mayhem! by Seth Grahame-Smith and Jane Austen

The Thirteenth Tale Diane Setterfield

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

Well, I suppose the list was a bit ambitious. However, I managed to knock out a few of them (those bolded). I've already reviewed Rebecca and The Thirteenth Tale. In addition, I read The Stolen Child, which was a great disappointment. It was close to being good, but fell short; I don't recommend it. If you were looking for a good book on changelings (because who isn't, right?), I'd more highly recommend Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, but only if you must.

The other books I read this summer were not on my list at all and included:
The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde—I'm giving this one 2.5/5 stars for its sheer creativity and ability to pull off an anachronistic romp even if the author's voice reads similarly to sub-par serial novelist Janet Evanovich. Its originality and British-ness reminds me of The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy sans the genius to support its plot.

Pudd'nhead Wilson by Mark Twain—this is an ironic novel that uses a turn-of-the-century setting to tell a Greek tragicomedy that has implications on identity, racism, and the American idea of a self-made man and the sometimes-false promise of always being able to start over. It's a shorty and worth a read; a complex and modernized Prince and the Pauper.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde—Beyond amazing, what a gift it was to end my summer reading on this gem. My friend Tiffany H. said (more articulately than I do here) of the book, "you can just hear how broken Wilde was as you read this." It's true. It's a fascinating study of amorality and consequences, homoeroticism and its subsequent masogonism, and the tragic coupling of time and beauty. Do not even try to read this without a pen by your side, if you're like me you'll be underlining the brilliant quotables Wilde deposits on nearly every page. I'll have to reread it again just to make sure I didn't miss any.

I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman by Nora Ephron—What can I say? This woman who brought us the script (with significant input from Ron Howard) for When Harry Met Sally, and You've Got Mail gives us a fabulous little memoir. Never verbose, and always funny, I loved this book except for the last chapter on death. It's heartbreaking to hear someone who's not a Christian try to rationalize the death of family, friends, and eventually, herself; supposedly a practicing Jew, she has little in the way of comfort in this area and I recommend you skip everything past her chapter "What I Wish I'd Known," which is great.

The Zookeeper's Wife Diane Ackerman—This is the One Book One San Diego this year, it was one of those that starts out brilliantly, settles into itself, then trails off at the end into obscurity in my memory. Worth a read, not worth a rave except to say that you will learn fascinating things about animals. Maybe 3.5 stars out of 5.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton—She is one of my all-time favorite authors. Like Wilde, it was a rare gift to read writing like this. The book is all sexual tension, romance, the importance of how others percieve you or lack thereof, and responsibility. I absolutely loved this novel. Also, I'm pleased to note that the movie (incredible cast) was one of the most true-to-form films based on a book I've ever seen.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey—is a fantastic read too for its symbolism and depth of characters; one becomes intimately familiar with the patients in the ward and I have to believe that Nurse Ratched is one of the most hated characters in modern literature. I found it moving, infuriating, and ultimately hopeful; a classic for a reason. Also followed up by a fantastic classic film with Jack Nicholson, Christopher Lloyd, one of Danny Devito's earliest appearances, and it was produced by Michael Douglas. Check out this cool backstory on how he got to produce it, "Kirk Douglas originated the role of McMurphy in a presidential stage production, and then bought the film rights, hoping to play McMurphy on the screen. He passed the production rights to his son, Michael Douglas, who decided his father was too old for the role. Kirk was reportedly angry at his son for a time afterward because of this."

Finally, I'm in the middle of Julie and Julia by Julie Powell. The book's pretty good, the movie was goodbut should NOT have been led by saccharin-sweet Amy Adams whom Nora Ephron seems to be grooming to be the next Meg Ryan. The Julie Powell who wrote this admits the same insecurities we sometimes have difficulty admitting to ourselves but, unlike Adams' character, fights back with f-words, hilarious self-deprication, fierce love for her urban family, and this mission to tackle Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I'm giving Adams one more chance to prove she's not a total one-note actress when I rent the movie Doubt sometime but thus far I'm pretty unimpressed with her performances outside the Disney realm.

Next on the list you ask? I'll tell you, but I won't promise I'll stick to it:
East of Eden by John Steinbeck
Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay (Tiffany H.'s sister is reading it and I'm jealous I didn't get at it first)
Wives and Daughters Elizabeth Gaskell
The Beautiful and the Damned F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Fountainhead Ayn Rand
Screwtape Letters C.S. Lewis
The House of Mirth Edith Wharton
Ghost Stories " "