Showing posts with label film and literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film and literature. Show all posts

Monday, June 15, 2009

I can read. . . It's a miracle! Non-readers: skip this post.

Finally, after a two month long hiatus, I'm back on the reading train! I'm usually a pretty obsessive reader, but something about excessive nausea mixed with first trimester depression and lack of motivation made sounding out words seem like too much work (unless those words were, "Dear husband, could you bring me some more cheez-its?")

I started off easy (don't want to get all disoriented) with Sue Monk Kidd's book The Mermaid Chair. I read it. It was fine. Moving on.

But then, the clouds opened up and a voice sounded (via Facebook) saying, "Here is an advanced copy of the sequel to The Hunger Games, should you desire to borrow it."

Me: (Pause to catch breath) "Oh, thank you, self, for deciding to work at a library for 5 years and make librarian friends who have similar reading obsessions and who share advanced reading copies with you."

Oh, it's good. Pretty darn good. Finished in under 24 hours good. And you only have to wait until September to get your hands on a copy!

Once I recovered from a straight day of reading I moved on to The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Gross (loaned to me by Jean, thank you!). It was pretty good. Not insanely good, but good.

And now I'm compulsively checking my library account for the day that Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's book of stories, The Thing Around Your Neck, comes in. Her novel, Half of a Yellow Sun, was incredible. If I owned it, I would loan it to you.

I'm trying not to make a summer reading list because when I make a list I never read a single thing on it, but I did just find this older list (2006) that Slate put together of good beach reads. You might just find something on there worth reading.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Show & Tell Club: Dinosaurs eat other dinosaurs


Photos borrowed from Laura.

Last Saturday we all agreed to cancel our motel rooms with the heart-shaped Jacuzzis and, instead, spend our evening together for the third installment of the Show & Tell Club.

A few highlights:

*Vince brought some valentines from his students that made us all want to be teachers for a second.

*Rachel showed us some great flea market finds from her year abroad in Germany.

*Suzanne brought an old newspaper she'd bought at auction from the day Kennedy died.

*David brought some red tools from his garage, and we all had to guess what they're intended for (a'la This Old House, I believe).

*Little Mr. B read a hand-written poem about dinosaurs whose first line was, "Dinosaurs eat other dinosaurs."

*Scott brought these little children's-type drawing of him and Catherine. Maybe I can convince him to blog them so you all can see.

*Catherine had some great relics from the start of she and Scott's relationship. Oh, boy. That journal.

*David and Marie brought the floor puzzle they'd created for their wedding guests to put together. Of course, we had to put it together too.

*I ended up bringing some embroidery I've been trying my hand at, along with official membership cards for everyone. Heck, yeah!

In other news, I just bought myself this crazy shirt today, made this delicious sandwich for lunch, and finished reading this great young adult novel (which I definitely recommend).

Monday, February 12, 2007

kangaroo baby

we spend much of our days on this spot on the couch--reading, doing crossword puzzles, playing on the internet (which is what i'm doing in this picture). he likes to sleep scrunched up in the sling with his head dropped back against my hand. we're still on the unpredictable schedule, never knowing when he's gonna sleep or eat or cry or anything else. since it's been below-freezing here, we haven't gotten out much--a few runs to the coffee roasters for some more chamomile tea, a few to target, the library. i'm still trying to decide whether or not i'm going to keep working part-time. it's a tough one, not to mention i'm not so good at making decisions.

i read a pretty good book called "but enough about me" by jancee dunn--a writer for rolling stone who tells about her life up until rolling stone, how she came to be a writer and be surrounded by celebrities and pseudo-celebrities. in between each chapter there are little tips for interviewing celebrities that are witty and fun to read. much of this book makes me feel like dunn really thinks she's hot stuff (even though she's always talking about how uncool she is). or maybe we all think we're hot stuff, who knows. now i'm onto a book called "heat" by bill buford about his year studying under a famous chef. some parts are boring--food histories, details about cooking types of meat--but much of this is captivating and hilarious.

i'm trying to knit another one of these for my friend's birthday. i made myself an orange one out of this beautiful yarn that my yarn shop informed me they'll no longer be carrying. darnit.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Books I've read since the babe

I've accomplished some serious reading since the boy came--between nursing and naps he leaves me a lot of time to sit here flipping through page after page of (mostly) brilliant literature, save a few occurrences of merely mediocre literature.

Here's what I've tackled thus far in the past three weeks:

Cash: the autobiography
Johnny Cash
I'd already read this before, but it's one of those great musical autobiographies that warrants rereading (plus, my kid's name is cash, it just makes sense). Cash does a fabulous job of recounting stories from life on the road--like Jerry Lee Lewis's constant preaching about rock and roll singers all going to Hell--and of relaying that smoky, wise voice he's so well-known for.



Memoirs of a Geisha
Arthur Golden
I'd had this book for a number of months after borrowing it from my sister-in-law but never reading it. Before it had never peaked my interest enough to even pick it up. My, what a difference it makes once you're stuck at home all-day every day, feeding a newborn hour after hour. Memoirs of a Geisha? suddenly sounds riveting! I'm not sure if it was the cabin fever-induced delirium, but this novel was actually good! I read it in about three or four days and could barely sit it down long enough to fall asleep at four in the morning while I was, you guessed it, feeding a newborn. Golden makes the streets of world war-era Japan vivid and colorful, with bright descriptions of Imperial gardens (coincidentally, the name of my grandmother's subdivision) and hand-painted watercolor-esque kimonos. The movie version? not so good.
Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman
Haruki Murakami
This collection of short stories was a birthday gift from my friend Tim that, once again, had yet to look appetizing enough to pick up. Although Murakami isn't my favorite writer, his dry, twisted sense of humor was enough to get my attention. The "poor aunt" story is hilarious, but most of his randomness was a bit too much, even for me. I wish I read Japanese because I imagine this book makes much more sense when read in its original language. Then again, maybe not. Coincidentally, his novel Kafka on the Shore was on everybody and their brothers' best books of 2005 list, so I guess I'll be picking that up one of these days.

The Road
Cormac McCarthy

This book is freakishly fantastic! Though you wouldn't know it from looking at this particular list, I don't really like reading fiction. If someone had tried to explain to me what this book was about--a father and son trying to survive against cannibal pirates in a world covered in ash--I would've grimaced and gone back to my creative non-fiction, but this novel is actually quite good. I'd love some explanations from McCarthy--like, what exactly happened to the earth and how old is the son?--but I don't think those are necessary to the narrative. I'd love to see a visual of this ash-covered earth, but I must admit that watching a father and his son travel an empty road for two hours doesn't exactly sound like entertaining cinema.

The Color Purple
Alice Walker
Even though I own this book I hadn't read it until last week. I had finished The Road in about a day, so I was desperate for something to read during the boy's middle of the night feeding. Even though I'm not much of an Alice Walker fan, this book wasn't so bad. Hmmm . . . maybe that's why it won both the Pulitzer and the National Book Award. Just a hunch.




Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2005
ed. Dave Eggers
I looooove the Best American series. The essays and short stories are my personal favorites, but this newer series is equally fantastic (this year there's even a new graphic novel series). And while I'm not always much of a fan of fiction, nor of Eggers, this collection is pretty good. I got tricked a lot into thinking certain pieces were nonfiction, and suddenly became turned-off to the narrative. However, that's more because I'm a snob than because of the stories themselves. The Al Franken piece is hysterical and made the entire book worth reading. Now I just have to wait until the library orders the 2006 edition.

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
Davis Sedaris
If I could write like David Sedaris I'd love myself. This man is, hands down, the funniest writer . . . ever. I'm sorry, it's true. And while much of this collection is nowhere near as funny as his usual New Yorker contributions, they're still worth a read and good for a laugh. Coincidentally, I just realized that this book, the Murakami novel, and The Road all have covers designed by Chip Kidd, my favorite book jacket designer. How odd.

I'm desperate for more good reads. Any ideas?