Tag Archives: books

Wishlist Wednesday

Posted in Wishlist Wednesday by

And now, for this week’s Wishlist Wednesday…

The concept is to post about one book from our wish lists that we can’t wait to read. Want to play? Here’s how:

  • Follow Pen to Paper as host of the meme.
  • Please consider adding the blog hop button to your blog somewhere, so others can find it easily and join in too! Help spread the word! The code will be at the bottom of the post under the linky.
  • Pick a book from your wishlist that you are dying to get to put on your shelves.
  • Do a post telling your readers about the book and why it’s on your wishlist.
  • Add your blog to the linky at the bottom of the post at Pen to Paper.
  • Put a link back to pen to paper (http://vogue-pentopaper.blogspot.com) somewhere in your post.
  • Visit the other blogs and enjoy!

My Wishlist Wednesday book is:

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin

From the author’s website:

Mara Dyer believes life can’t get any stranger than waking up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there.
It can.

She believes there must be more to the accident she can’t remember that killed her friends and left her strangely unharmed.
There is.

She doesn’t believe that after everything she’s been through, she can fall in love.
She’s wrong.

Why do I want to read this?

It sounds mysterious, intriguing, suspenseful… with a hint that some sort of conspiracy or larger force is at play. The synopsis doesn’t tell me much, but I like how dire it all sounds. I actually came across this book after seeing a blurb for the sequel, The Evolution of Mara Dyer, which is due out in October.

Once again, I may be breaking my own rule about not starting any more trilogies — I really have to stop doing that! Still, my library branch has a copy available, so I think I’ll dive in, give The Unbecoming a try, and then make a decision about continuing with the story.

 

Read a book. All the cool people are doing it.

Posted in Pop Culture by

Taking a brief pause to appreciate TV characters who read… for no real reason except that it gives me a good excuse to Google stuff. Without further ado:

Damon Salvatore thinks sparkly vampires are stupid.

Sawyer rockin’ the reading glasses.

Don Draper is a very serious reader.

Good slayers always do their homework first. But where are the Scoobies?

Good slayers always do their homework first. But where are the Scoobies?

No, the other Scoobies!

Joey found Little Women kinda scary.

Gemma hitting the medical texts. Career change?

Trying to read here, Varys.

Never too old for a bedtime story.

Updated 8/24/2012 to add:

Piney reading a one-of-a-kind Stephen King novel. That’s “Cycle Zombies”, and it exists only in TV land.

That’s all I’ve got! If you come up with any other good ones, please share.

11/5/2012: Updated to add this additional cute photo:

Some scary things happen in “The Angels Take Manhattan” episode of Doctor Who, but this reading-friendly picnic scene is just adorable.

Book Review: Some Kind of Fairy Tale by Graham Joyce

Posted in Book Reviews by

Book Review: Some Kind of Fairy Tale by Graham Joyce

Fifteen-year-old Tara Martin disappeared without a trace on a beautiful spring day when the bluebells were all in bloom. Twenty years later, on Christmas Day, Tara knocks on her parents’ door, still looking like a teenager and with a strange tale to tell. Tara’s reappearance causes relief, joy, and turmoil for the family she left behind, as well as for her former boyfriend Richie, whose life went completely off the rails after he was accused of foul plan in Tara’s disappearance.

Tara’s return is not, perhaps, as she expected:

Twenty years is, after all, a long time. We are not the same people we were. Old friends, lovers, even family members: they are strangers who happen to wear a familiar face.

Tara tells an impossible tale, of a romantic man on horseback, travels to a different world, and what to her was a six-month stay in a land both strange and beautiful. Tara’s brother Peter is determined to figure out the truth of what happened to Tara, and enlists the aid of his wife, his former best friend Richie, and a retired psychiatrist to sift through the conflicting threads of her story.

Graham Joyce is a gifted writer whose words and tempo are lilting and lovely. He has a talent for taking the every day and making it mysterious, adding a rhythm to the routine occurrences within a family that bring in the larger world and its unknowability. Characters are sharply drawn and defined, including Peter, a tired but devoted family man, passionately in love with his wife, hurt by the loss of his friend, joyful yet resentful of Tara’s return; Mrs. Larwood, the elderly neighbor who may in fact have her own tale to tell; and Richie, stuck in the past, alone and loveless, having put his life on hold once Tara disappeared.

I had expected Some Kind of Fairy Tale to be a more or less traditional tale of a mortal crossing over into the land of the fae. As it turns out, it is and it isn’t. The changing points of view within the story heighten the mystery, and make it impossible to come to any one particular conclusion — although the end of the story certainly made one explanation seem more likely than others.

Each chapter begins with a quote, and I found these entirely delightful, so much so that I’d like to collect them all and refer back to them time and again. A favorite: “When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking.” (Albert Einstein)

The author’s previous novel, The Silent Land, is one of the most exquisite pieces of fiction I’ve ever read. Some Kind of Fairy Tale did not have the same impact on me and I wouldn’t rate it quite as highly, but it is quite lovely in its own right and I can recommend it whole-heartedly.

Graham Joyce warns us of the shifting nature of the narrative and the truths contained therein early on:

Of course, everything depends on who is telling the story. It always does.

It’s entirely possible that I don’t entirely understand what really transpired in this haunting tale. Then again, maybe we’ll all understand it differently, and I think that’s as it should be.

 

Running away to the circus

Posted in Bookish Thoughts by

In honor of an outing tomorrow with my kiddo to see the current Ringling Brothers extravaganza, I thought I’d do my own brief version of a salute to circus books. Here’s a smattering of a few I’ve read in the last few years:

Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen

This tale of love, memory, and violence, set in a Depression-era travelling circus, features unforgettable characters, and is a real treat for the reader. Perfectly captures the sights, sounds, and smells of the circus, with a plot that grabs hold and doesn’t let go.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

I’m among the minority of readers who didn’t love this book. The descriptions of this mysterious, phantasmagorical circus are breathtakingly beautiful at times, but the plot just didn’t come together well enough to sustain the imagery.

Mr. Vertigo by Paul Auster

This strange tale of a boy who is taught to fly by a master magician is quite a puzzle. I read it, enjoyed parts, but ultimately didn’t quite know what to make of it.

Last but not least, always a favorite in my house:

If I Ran The Circus by Dr. Seuss

Who doesn’t love this fantastical trip through the backyard circus, as imagined by a boy with a day on his hands and only his own creativity to fill it? My son and I never fail to find fresh details to giggle over, whether it’s the Spotted Atrocious, the Harp-Twanging Snarp, or good old Mr. Sneelock.

The Circus McGurkus! The cream of the cream!
The Circus McGurkus! The Circus Supreme!
The Circus McGurkus! Colossal! Stupendous!
Astounding! Fantastic! Terrific! Tremendous!

So what did I miss? Any other circus-themed fiction to recommend? Add your thoughts below… meanwhile, we’ll be dreaming of high wires, trapezes, and itty bitty clown cars.

My poor, overcrowded bookshelves

Posted in The Reading Life by

Time for a survey of the state of my bookshelves. The results ain’t pretty.

Here’s a typical set of shelves in my house:

Is it getting a bit crowded in here?

 

Notice, if you will, the double-stacking, the books crammed in at the top, the lack of any discernible rhyme or reason for book placement. I tend to shelve books these days by feel. Look, there’s still an inch of space — let’s see if this skinny one will make it!

My frustrated inner librarian shudders with dismay. How about organizing by genre? By author, maybe? Or by color scheme? Nope, it’s all about fit. Stuff ’em in there, and if they don’t fall out onto the floor, we’re done.

I suppose these books should feel fortunate that they actually have a shelf to call home. Here’s where some other books live in my house:

This pile has accumulated another 10 books or so since the picture was taken.

 

This poor stack is homeless. These are the various books that I continue to amass without having a place to put them. All the stuff that I consider my “next-in-line” books — although many of them have been “next-in-line” for months. So there they sit on top of a dresser, in a pile that grows and grows…

 

 

 

 

Spoils of war

See these bags of books? These are my lucky finds from last year’s public library sale. Quick aside: Awesome event! Twice a year, the friends of the public library organize a HUGE used book sale (500,000 items for sale, or so they say). Everything is $5 or less (paperbacks typically $1 or $2), and all proceeds benefit the public libraries.

Typically, I score big at these events. The bags in this picture hold about 60 or so “new” used books that I found at the sale last fall… still sitting in the paper bags they came home in. I want them, I love them, I intend to read them, DON’T EVEN THINK OF GIVING THEM AWAY!!! But my shelves are full to bursting and I have no place to put another book, much less three bags full.

So what’s a poor, overcrowded booklover like me to do?

A ray of hope has arrived! All is not lost! Due to various people coming and going in my house, lots of changes and reorganizing, suddenly, this beautiful thing appeared:

Miracle of miracles!

An empty wall!

Of course, much debate ensued. My husband sees a guest room perhaps, or maybe even a room to rent. My son envisions a game room, with electronics and Legos everywhere.

Me? It’s obvious, isn’t it? IT’S MY READING ROOM!

I don’t know if I’ll succeed in claiming the whole room, but that wall is mine. I’m picturing wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Oh, the fun I’ll have! I can see it now, organizing my various and sundry tomes by whatever method catches my fancy.

It’s time to be bold, stake my claim. Tape measure in hand, I’ll map out what’s mine. No one can stop me!

I feel a trip to Ikea beckoning in the not-too-distant future. My epic quest begins!

I’ll be back to let you know if I slay the dragon.

 

If you love YA like I love YA…

Posted in Fun and Whimsy by

… check out this fantastic infographic flow chart, courtesy of the Lawrence, Kansas public library teen staff:

You can check out the full chart here. Thank you, Lawrence Public Library!

A few quick glimpses of their fabulous work:

Go visit the library site to see more. It’ll make you smile, I promise.

Look at all the pretty!

Posted in Bookish Thoughts by

I simply must pass along this piece from Tor showcasing Barnes & Nobles’s new leatherbound classics* series. These are beautiful! Must get many.

*Classics, like beauty, apparently being in the eye of the beholder, this collection of classics includes not only the Brothers Grimm, Arabian Nights, Jane Austen, and Charles Dickens, but also Stephen King, Michael Crichton, and Douglas Adams. Not that I’m complaining.

And here are some of the gorgeous volumes that fill me with book lust:

At $18 a pop (mostly), and considering the heftiness of some of these volumes, I’m not going to be rushing right out to buy them all. But maybe as special treats, here or there? Perhaps I need to start dropping hints now to my various and sundry family members who always tell me “I never know what to buy you” when my birthday rolls around…

Now what?

Posted in Bookish Thoughts by

The problem with catching up on a series… is eventually, you’re all caught up.

If you’ve followed my blog at all in the last few weeks, you’ll know that my obsession du jour is the Fables series of graphic novels (by Bill Willingham). I’ve been devouring these non-stop, to the exclusion of pretty much everything else on my bookshelves. Last night, I finished volume 17 — which was my goal for the week — and suddenly, I’m done. I’ve preordered volume 18, but it’s not due to be published until next January. It’s going to be a long, cold wait.

If I’m hooked, I’m hooked, and despite knowing that sooner or later the fun will end, there’s no stopping me until I’ve reached the end of whatever series I’m reading.*  Not a problem if the entire series has already been published, as was the case when I read Jim Butcher’s Codex Alera series a couple of years ago.

*A major exception to my normal series reading behavior is The Dark Tower series by Stephen King. I’d been meaning to read it for years; finally started the series earlier this year, read the first three books and thought they were terrific, took the fourth one off my shelf and placed in prime reading position on my nightstand… and there it still sits. I don’t know why, but I just lost the spark, I guess. I’m sure I’ll return to that world eventually, but for now, I’m just not feeling it.

In 2011, my series obsession was A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin. I read the available five books over the course of a few months, and now I have to wait, like everyone else. If I had been one of his devoted fans waiting six years for the publication of the fifth book, A Dance With Dragons, I might have gotten a bit antsy myself. Not to the extent of the angry bloggers who want the author to “finish the damn book, George!”, but still… (Side note: It seems to me that publicly venting your anger at the author whose work you adore might not be the best display of fan-like behavior. It’s his book! Let the man write at whatever pace works for him. The next book will be amazing, I promise!).

In 2010, there was nothing but Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series for me. I read the seven books in the series straight through, several thousand pages worth. And then came the sad day when I finished Echo in the Bone (cliffhangers galore!), and had to face the fact that there was nothing else to read about Claire and Jamie!

For some of my beloved series, there are spin-offs and side works available. For Fables, there’s a Jack of Fables series, although I never cared that much for the Jack character, so I’ll pass on a series devoted to him. However, I’m sure I will pick up some of the stand-alones to keep me in the Fables world between now and next January.

For A Song of Ice and Fire, I’m afraid it’ll be a long, long time before we see book six, The Winds of Winter. We’re talking years here. No publication date has been announced yet, but it’s a good bet that by the time Winter finally arrives, I’ll have forgotten everything that’s happened already, as well as all of my arcane knowledge of house sigils and bannermen, and will have to do some major re-reads.

Diana Gabaldon is busily working on book eight, Written In My Own Heart’s Blood, and has estimated publication for early 2013, according to the author’s website. In the interim, since finishing Echo, I’ve read the spin-off Lord John series (enjoyed quite a lot, but didn’t love…) as well as the various short stories set in the Outlander world. Diana posts excerpts from her work in progress on a more or less daily basis on Facebook, so at least we faithful followers get regular doses and snippets of the characters we love.

So now what? I suppose it’s all for the best, really. Now that I’m out of Fables, I can start digging through my to-read pile, and plan to enjoy novel after novel, especially those that start and end within the covers of a single volume. Or at least until the next shiny series comes along. I can’t be held responsible for what happens then.

Confessions of a book snob

Posted in The Reading Life by

I admit it. I am a certifiable book snob. Really, I can be a judgy little thing, especially when it comes to other people’s taste in books.

Not that I expect everyone to sit around reading serious works at all times. My life does not revolve around Shakespeare, Melville, and Dickens (although sometimes I think it should).

I’m the type who wants to know what everyone else is reading. I’ve had great airport conversations with strangers, sparked by the books in our hands (e.g., “Wow, you’re reading Lamb? I love Christopher Moore!”).

But I must ‘fess up and say straight out that I tend to turn up my nose when I see people reading those certain bestsellers that “everyone” loves — and I simply despise — such as The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo or The Da Vinci Code. As a booklover friend of mine and I smugly agreed, when people rave about those books, those books are probably the only books they’ve read in the past year or so.

I admit to feeling just a wee bit of condescension toward friends after our first visit to their home, when I saw that the majority of books on their bookshelves were written by John Grisham, Nicholas Sparks, and Clive Cussler.

On the flip side, when I first visited someone I knew mainly as a professional connection and saw the wall-to-wall bookshelves in her family room, filled with everything from Harry Potter to Neil Gaiman to Mary Roach, I knew we’d manage to hit it off.

So does that make me a snob? Probably. I know, in this age of non-stop technological distractions, that I should applaud people for reading at all, even if it is mass market drivel.

I think my main problem is that I tend to reach out to people and try to find common ground with them over the subject of reading. I love meeting people with unusual book tastes, so long as they’re readers. When we click over a book, I know we’ll manage to find something to talk about. But when all they can find to read is Grisham and the like, I just have nothing to say.

So, I’ll keep plugging away, making it my own personal mission, in my miniscule sphere of influence, to tell people about the great books I’ve read. Maybe we’ll connect, maybe the other person will think whatever I’m reading is absolute dreck. But maybe, just maybe, one or both of us will come away from the encounter with a new title or author to explore, and that can only be a good thing.

Just don’t tell me to give Stieg Larsson another try. I don’t think our friendship can take it.

Book Review: Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler & Maira Kalman

Posted in Book Reviews by

Book Review: Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler; illustrated by Maira Kalman

Min Green and Ed Slaterton were young and in love… and then they broke up. Why We Broke Up, written by Daniel Handler and gorgeously illustrated by Maira Kalman, is Min’s letter to Ed, hastily and tearily written by Min on her way to dump on Ed’s doorstep all of the accumulated mementos from their brief but intense relationship.

The writing is supercharged with teen-aged emotion and humor. Min is part of the “arty” crowd, an avid film buff who relates everything in life to old movies. When she falls unexpectedly for golden boy Ed, co-captain of the basketball team and center of all that’s popular in their high school, you’d think it was the Montagues and Capulets all over again. Neither Min’s nor Ed’s friends approve, but these two are in orbit around each other.

The point of view is quite interesting. We’re meant to sympathize with Min, yet I can’t help but feel that her perspective is not always reliable. Ed points out to Min repeatedly that he likes her because she’s different — meaning different from him and his friends — but Min never seems to work her way around to being able to reciprocate. Instead, it’s Ed’s popularity and the seeming ease with which he breezes through life which Min consistently adds to the list of reasons of why they broke up. She seems to try to mold Ed into her idea of an acceptable boyfriend, but can’t bring herself to enjoy any of the pursuits that make Ed who he is. Min fails to do more than acknowledge in passing that Ed is largely being cared for by his older sister while his mother is ill — yet as readers, we can infer that his mother is terminal, and thus Ed’s actions may be understandable in a different light, one which Min ignores completely.

Still, these two sparkle together, and their love and lust take them to some touching and surprising places before they’re through with one another. Min speaks with the voice of a girl experiencing first love, and her heartbreak when it falls apart is piercingly true. Min’s internal collapse when she realizes that it’s all over is particularly well-written — a three-page venting that anyone who’s been a teen-aged girl can relate to, in which she lists all the ways in which she’s not special, not different, not anyone of note. It’s dismaying, yet so true a first reaction to rejection that I had to stop and marvel that a male author could capture a girl’s inner voice so accurately.

The writing sparkles, the pictures are lovely, and the story is just a delight. Don’t let the young adult classification fool you — this is good literature, enjoyable for anyone who appreciates witty characters, heartfelt emotions, and a story well-told. Don’t miss it.