Curse You Bookclub!!!

Now that The Hobbit is officially on this year's book list, I CANNOT wait to read it, and also I MUST REREAD the ENTIRE trilogy. Except our very wonderful bookclub person who puts our list in order, put The Hobbit in AUGUST. That is very much far-ness from now. Also, I resolved to read The Simarillion thanks to m friends' low opinions of it at New Years, and I would like to start that, but can't decide if it should go before or after LOTR, which clearly can't go until after The Hobbit.
Also, my TBR list has now reached such epic proportions I'm not sure it can be completed in one life time. It can't even be contained by one source anymore. There's 52 book titles saved to my phone, approximately 97 books I've never read on my bookshelves, 200 unread books and/or documents on my Nook and 178 books on my official Goodreads TBR. How do other people have such managable book lists?!?!?!

Psychosomatic Vampire Injuries

The other day I was sitting in a nap room at work, reading a vampire book when suddenly my neck began to itch. I reached up scratched it without looking up from my book, but as I was lowering my hand I realized it was covered in blood. I went into the bathroom to take a look and realized that my neck was slowly seeping blood and based on the fact that some of it was dried, had been for awhile. So I cleaned up my neck, which was when I discovered the two small puncture like marks that were oozing the blood. It was when I was washing my hands that I made my final odd discovery. On the back of my hand there was a fairly small, and yet oddly deep imprint of a human mouth. Like a bite mark, but clearly human not like a mosquito or whatever. There were teeth prints. I think my book is haunted.

Stupid Cliffhangers!

You want to know what I hate? I hate cliffhangers. I don't mind when shows do two-part episodes so they can handle a topic that couldn't be covered in the shows normal running time. But when it's a season finale or the ending of a book? I know that the writer(s) only did it to "force" me into returning when the show comes back (or when the next book comes out). Here's the thing- if I watched your season finale, or read your book, I'm probably interested in what I'm seeing. I'm probably invested enough in the characters I would come back anyway, so why leave me hangin for months (or if it's a book years)? Especially because I will probably forget the danger you left your characters in months (or years) ago and you have to spend the beginning of your new installment reminding me of the danger?
I just finished the penultimate Vampire Academy book, and it was fantastic! The drama is very dramatic. The romantic tension is tense. And also romantic. The court politics are as insane and twisted as you might expect from a culture where the politics of two groups rests in the hands of thirteen people from only one of those groups. But the ending!! Richelle Mead clearly has a thing for the cliffhanger ending. The first four books it was all about the Rose-Dimitri relationship, so at least this is different, but HOLY JEEZ lady, write a proper ending! Ummm, in case I didn't make it clear, Spirit Bound ends on a cliffhanger. Which I promptly ruined for myself because the last book is out, but I can't get my hands on it for like two months. So I googled the answer (and people, it is GOOD!!). So, I guess that's on me, but I'm still annoyed at Mead.

The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova

The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Oh…my word. That was simply beautiful. I finished mere moments ago, and already I long to pick it back up and start again, looking for the meanings I missed the first time through. It wasn’t what I expected, based on Kostova’s previous novel I expected something more…supernatural I guess. Instead I found an achingly beautiful novel about love and loss and heartbreak and so much more. Honestly, this is one of my favorite novels. My biggest problem is how very much it made me want to see some famous paintings. It made me long to create something beautiful or haunting. There are simply no words beyond- read this novel. Drop everything, call in sick to work and snuggle in to read this.



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Christmas Eve and Other Stuff

So here’s the thing. Back in October (I think??) my bookclub read The Monk, which was so ridiculous that I had to love it. Anyhoodle, one of my bookclubbers read to us from a review of The Monk he had found online and it was so funny that we made him email all of us the link so we could go read the whole thing. Except it was so great that I started reading all of the reviews, and totally using the reviews to pad my (already quite long) to-read list over at Goodreads. Today I had nothing much to do, so I totally worked on that all day. And my to-read list went from 28 to 39 when I added all next year’s bookclub picks to 98 when I started reading Books I Done Read and I’m only on the letter M as I write this. People, I am never, ever going to finish my to-read list. Especially when you find out that I have two other to-read lists which have none of the same books (one on my phone and one on a notebook I keep in my purse).
Also, I was going to tell you about Chicago.
I love Chicago. Also, I love holiday traditions because I don’t really have any. My best friend, however, does. One of hers is a trip to Chicago every December to look at the windows in Macy’s (except it used to be Marshall Field’s and was apparently much better back in the day, but this story is not about the un-Chicago-ing of a Chicago landmark, so moving on…). Except this year her family didn’t go and she didn’t think she was sad about it (due to the apparent sucki-ness of Macy’s compared to Field’s) until I told her that if she wanted to go on Christmas Eve I would go with her. So, Friday off we went to Chicago, and it was awesome. There was cheesecake made out of Frango Mints (which are pretty much the best way to eat chocolate-they are magic candy). There were very few crowds and there were very many “Oh crap, Christmas is tomorrow and we still have whole tons of Christmas stuff!” sales. I bought two gorgeous Christmas ornaments (a wine bottle because of my wine touring this summer and a new topper) for less than either one of them cost full price. The only thing that would have made it better was if her brothers (who were invited) had decided to come, I know she regretted that they weren’t there and she wishes she spent more time with them. Also, they are both very polite young men who don’t make me want to slap them in the face every five seconds like my brother. I took some pics, but there are mostly of glittery things for me to admire, or of sparkly Christmas lights, which I already showed you like forty-seven pictures of, so I won’t include them in this post.
Anyway, that’s all I wanted to tell you about Christmas Eve. Hope your holiday was a wonderfully sweet and comfortable as mine was.

The Ghost Map

The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic--and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World by Steven Johnson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


My dad and I read this book together, and it was amazing. While a bit gross (do you know how cholera spreads? because now I do) it was one of the most interesting history books I've ever (and since my BA is in history, that is saying alot) and it was great to discuss.

**Update**

I just reread this for bookclub, and I enjoyed it way more this time than last. Although I could do without the author’s lengthy epilogue on the hazards of nuclear weapons, the information found within the main body of the book is fascinating. Johnson manages to spin out the suspense of a hundred and fifty year old epidemic by turning the bacteria and the city both into characters (and by pointlessly endangering the life of one of the human characters- but I guess since it’s nonfiction, you can’t really blame him for that). My only real complaint is the total lack of the “ghost map” in a book entitled The Ghost Map. He goes to some lengths to explain why the map made by the doctor was groundbreaking in its time and instrumental in convincing people of his argument, yet doesn’t choose to include a copy of the map in the book or on his website, which I found to be somewhat less than useful. Also, I knocked a star off what was once a five star review because of it.





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Lauren Willig Book Signing

So I told you about going to Chicago the other day for a book signing- Remember the Creepy Train Guy (I think I should start tagging those entries "creepy guy")? That was so long I didn’t get a chance to tell you about why I was actually in Chicago.
So…
One of my favorite living authors is named Lauren Willig. She writes spoofs of Baroness Orczy’s League of the Scarlett Pimpernel books, that are sort of sequels with a modern frame story. They are FANTASTIC and you should totally read them. Actually I’m going to post y review of her first book here in a few days just so you can see how much I liked them. Anyway…
I had met her once before about a year and half ago, and this is how cool she is. She was at a conference and she thought that the book signing portion of the day was open to everyone not just conference attendees, which turned out to be not true. So she spent her scheduled break in a hotel lobby hanging out with fans, signing books (and since there were only like six of us giving us amazing spoilers!) So when I found out she would be in Chicago again, I promptly took the day off so I could go see her again.
It was great, there were way more of us this time, so it was less intimate, but still very cool. She read us an intro to her new book that the publisher made her take out (because they thought it sounded to serious, but none of us thought it was at all serious, so…), she answered questions, and gave us a few minor spoilers then she signed books. So now all of my copies of her books are signed, and I got another Christmas present checked off my list.
Afterwards Kristin and I went to dinner at the restaurant we’d been planning on going to BEFORE but were unable to since I missed my train. The food was AMAZING and the prices were absotlutely astonishing (in the good way). As in we split a carafe of Sangria (wine and brandy poured over ice and fruit), Kristin had linguine and clams, I had wild boar ragu (yes you read that correctly, I ate boar for dinner), and we split chocolate fondue for dessert. Mind you this was all at a restaurant in downtown Chicago (on State St) that was so nice, there was a bathroom attendant. Our total bill (not including tip) was only $45!!
Now enjoy the pictures I took that night (I’m the one in the black and white cityscape tee, Kristin is in blue lace, and Lauren Willis is in the amazing red dress.

Nectar In A Sieve

Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya




I found this book to be moving and lyrical, sorrowful and yet hopeful. However, I think to fully appreciate the book the American reader to place it in historical context first. Rukmani marries Nathan in 1930’s rural India. This is a time and place where there is no such thing as adolescence. The poverty stricken Indian people have to make choices that provide the highest chance of survival to the highest number of people. So, when Rukmani’s parents contract her marriage when she is only twelve years old, the American reader has to understand that not only is this an acceptable age in that culture for a woman (and she is considered a woman by her culture) to be married, her parents are really trying to ensure their own survival (one less mouth to feed at home) and hers (she is the mistress of her own home and although her husband is a landless farmer, she will likely not starve).

Nectar In A Sieve moves through the rest of Rukmani’s life. She sees her family’s prospects grow as Nathan saves money hoping to buy the land he farms, and dwindle as a tannery opens in her town artificially raising prices and destroying the farm land. Eventually her daughter is forced to prostitution to feed her youngest son, who still dies of starvation and they are kicked off the land they’ve farmed for thirty years. Nearly all of their sons are lost to them either through death, because they’ve taken jobs in Ceylon, or through simple vanishing acts. Every day is a struggle, and it’s hard for an American to grasp situations where a family is stretching one meal of rice water to last three days. And yet, Rukmani never gives up. Even after Nathan has joined the dead while they in a distant city far from home, she doesn’t give up. Instead she adopts a leper boy (and saves his life by doing so) and returns home.

This is a novel about hope, the hope that is necessary for people to strive for a better, more secure life, achieved only through gainful employment and a stable income in a capitalist world. Where these opportunities don't exist, or barely exist, you will have thousands of Rukmanis, and Nathans begging in your towns and cities. And thankfully, there will be other "Kamala Markandayas" to document their stories for those who are willing to open their eyes to the world around them.





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Lies My Teacher Told Me

I just recently finished a book called “Lies My Teacher Told Me” which I highly recommend. The book explains why you were probably bored in history classes, and why to this day you think you aren’t interested in a subject which affects you in many ways, every day. I have friends who can’t even be interested in politics which affects our lives in a very meaningful way every single day, because they can’t stand history. Yet if history were taught the way this book suggests, I think everyone would have some interest in the topic.
I have often regretted what the book calls “heroification”. This is the process of taking very real people, with very real flaws, and making them into more than they were. The classic example is Thomas Jefferson. The man wrote the famous words “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”. Yet over the course of his adult life he owned over 200 slaves. In a time when many men freed at least some slaves upon their deaths, he freed only five, all of whom were directly related to him. If real history were taught, the gritty things that raise people’s hackles, discussions would be held in the classroom and in our living rooms, and far more people would have a far better understanding of our history. Instead, we teach a sanitized version of history that leaves children thinking that those great men, who did those great things were so great they can’t be role models. It is hard to look up to someone who never made a mistake and think “I can be just like that guy!”. But to tell students that despite the mistakes that people made, they also did great things? That would give our students true heroes.
The author proposes that the reason behind this sanitation of history is that without it, history would offend, and offensive history wouldn’t get adopted by selection committees. The selection committees want to indoctrinate students to think only the best of our country and our past, and so our students must only be told the good things we’ve done.
This book has helped remind me of why I love history, and why I want to teach it to high schoolers. Many times since I graduated, I’ve considered settling not for what I want to do, but what I should do. I don’t want to leave behind those dreams, I don’t want to settle. I want to inspire the next generation to truly think and to question why we do things. I can’t do that by retreating to the hallowed halls of academia, I can only do that in the dirty halls of a high school. I appreciate that the author of this book has helped remind me of that goal, and thus helped set my determination.

Book-club

In my current position at work I get intellectual stimulation. I help my kids with their homework, which I’m pretty sure is the only time I will ever divide fractions in “real life”. My kids ask political and theological questions on a relatively frequent basis. Soon, I will be teaching two year olds. The level of my day to day conversation will go from “Why did God make Satan?” to “What’s a circle?”
That aside, I am so grateful for the opportunity to mingle with adults. Tonight my book-club chair called me. Our town’s newspaper had called her wanting to write about our book-club, and take some pictures of us. The only problem was they want to run the article on Thursday and we don’t meet for another two weeks. Anyway, the chair asked us to meet during her Great Books Discussion Club so the photographer could get his shots, apparently he had threatened to take pictures of just her otherwise. So I went. What made it great was that, the photographer didn’t just want to take a picture and call it a day, he wanted pictures of participating in book-club, so even though we hadn’t read the book my friends and I jumped into the conversation. Intellectually stimulating, and super fun.
You know, I don’t make friends easily. I’m shy enough that sometimes I feel awkward around my best friends, so I just don’t talk to new people easily. But, I talk easily enough at book-club. I have a specific topic to discuss, and I just can’t feel self-conscious. It’s only at book-club that I don’t miss being in school. I love book-club.

24 Hours

This morning I was scheduled to watch Niece and Nephew at 7:30. Since my SIL just moved into her new apartment, and she had room for me, I slept over to that I could sleep until the kids woke, or 7:30 which ever came last. That turned out to not really mean any extra sleep since I helped unpack stuff until after 3. In the morning. I didn’t get home today from watching them until 10pm. I spent more than 24 hours with them, and while I love them, I am SOOO glad I don’t have any kids of my own. I am exhausted and I was pretty glad to come home and watch trashy TV and surf the internet uninterrupted.
On the other hand…Internet, the kids let me read to them from The Iliad. And they seemed to enjoy it. The reading is hard, my pronunciation is not great, and their comprehension was probably at zero, but they cuddled up to me and listened. Niece even asked me to read more. The Iliad you guys. My comprehension is only about 60 percent, but they seemed to love it.

Personal Moronics

So when I was writing lesson plans for the summer I decided on “Peace, Love and Recycling” as our first theme. Then I adapted Love to include tolerance for people who are different. In my class, there are two major groups that I needed to focus on. I have one little boy who is racist against African Americans, and several children who know nothing about Muslims and the Middle East other than what they’ve heard in fits of post 9/11 racism. I decided that one of the books we would read would be Arabian Nights (so we could talk about Middle Eastern culture) and then set about looking for an illustrated children’s copy. I found illustrated adult copies that were inappropriate for my class. I found children’s copies with no pictures. I decided to give up on the illustrated copy and started making my own figures and felt board it. Internet, you will NOT believe where I found an illustrated children’s copy yesterday. I spent the day reorganizing and preparing to take some things to the used bookstore. I walked over to the shelf I keep my pretty books on, not to give any up, but to admire the books I don’t often read because I own a more practical copy. The second book in line was the book I have looked high and low for these last three weeks. I am clearly a moron.