breaking dawn

August 18th, 2008

so, i wasn’t going to read breaking dawn. i was pretty smug about it. i thought to myself, “yeah, i couldn’t care any less than i do about that annoying bella person.” and then i snagged myself. i picked up a copy in an airport bookstore and read the first chapter.

that night i had a dream. (yes, ms. meyer, this is right up your alley.) i dreamed that in order to finish my master’s requirements (don’t worry, this is a terrifying graduate school dream that doesn’t involve any nudity) i had to take a class on fiction writing from stephenie meyer. i found myself at a mixer for the start of the year explaining to another classmate why i was absolutely mortified by this requirement. “she can’t write,” i explained. “her characters lack depth. all her books hinge on the power of lust. each character in the book is a cliche of a cliche.” and on and on dream jes went explaining herself. at some point fellow classmate says to me, “yeah. i’m stephenie meyer’s husband, but i have to agree with you. she’s not that great of a writer.”

i’m not sure exactly the cosmic weight of such a dream, but you go ahead and ponder.

and now, on to slaughter breaking dawn. more! »

inkheart

May 9th, 2008

inkheart.jpgi’ve been having an inexplicable need (voracious, even) for fantasy lately. (have i had quite enough of real life?) whatever the reason, inkheart by cornelia funke, hit the spot. it’s really brilliant–although, i admit i’m always a sucker for fantasy novels about little girls who read too many books.

book of a thousand days

April 21st, 2008

thousand.jpg so. i tried to be all smarty pants and read doris lessing’s new book, the cleft. but i just couldn’t do it. i wanted something warm and fuzzy. i wanted something that would help me forget the waft of changing diapers and the pile of dishes with crusted on lasagna. i charged my through to about page 50–it’s an interesting premise. lessing rewrites genesis, with women first. but, i couldn’t stomach the brutality.

so i picked up winter wheat, but couldn’t get my teeth into it. (if you ask me, there’s only one gil, and we all know where to find him.) i might try again later, but the narration in this one is so strange. ellen, the protagonist, tells most of the story as an essay assignment for a college professor. it’s still languishing on my nightstand.

and then, [then!], i started in on another shannon hale. what delight. dashti, the mongolian narrator, has more ways to use the word “yak” in ordinary conversation than anyone i know. i couldn’t put this down. i devoured it in a matter of days. (two of them to be exact.) and would have finished it in one if i didn’t have a kid who seems to be needing things all of the time.

it’s inventive, it’s lyric, it’s suspenseful, it’s perfect.

books, books

January 18th, 2008

i know you’ve been on the edge of your seat. “what is she reading?” you’re wondering. it’s been months, hasn’t it?, since i gave you the big book update. well, take a breath, here we go.

i finished sarah willis’s newest novel, the sound of us. verdict: utterly disappointing. everything charming and delightful about her first novel was missing. and, to top it off, it had one of those here’s-what-happens-in-five-years and everyone is unbelievably happy and doing really well endings. too easy. i hate it when it’s too easy.

next, i tried to read some karen joy fowler. i met her at the imagination conference last summer and found her writing tips profound and her sense of humor keen. i picked up a few of her books. couldn’t get more than fifty or so pages into  sweetheart season. the second book must have been equally forgettable. i find this frustrating because i really really wanted to like her books. but i haven’t given up. i’m going to try something else, like the jane austen book club or sarah canary.

i finished listening to the prydain chronicles read by james langton. brilliant brilliant brilliant! it’s a wonderful audio production. these are perfect YA fantasy thriller adventure novels and james langton does all the voices with wonderful flair.

wallowing in booklessness, i did something i never thought i would do. i picked up the massive lord of the rings trilogy.  i tried reading it in high school, but plodded my through part of the two towers and gave up. i found it utterly ponderous. but some family prodding gave me renewed vigor. i attacked these books, starting with the introduction. and now i can’t believe that i ever found them boring and difficult to read. i have to admit that the movies gave me that little imagining boost–i finally had enough setting that i could actually picture what tolkein was describing. and i’ve been flying through! i’m nearly finished with return of the king and i am stunned. the characters have so much depth and each scene is so beautifully rendered. (i’m so in love with these books that i’ve even read the songs!)

if you haven’t ever tried to tackle this 1000+ page masterpiece, hesitate no longer. it’s worth it.

the book trail: becoming naomi leon

December 31st, 2007

our guest host, kt larson, starts off our discussion of this month’s book, becoming naomi leon by pam munoz ryan. (if you haven’t had a chance to read it yet, set aside an afternoon. really. it’s good. and it’s short.)

When I returned to California after seven years away, the first thing I read was Pam Muñoz Ryan’s book Esperanza Rising. It takes place in the San Joaquin valley where I grew up, and although it was about Mexican and dust-bowl farmers working in the fields (something with which I don’t have much experience), reading it made me feel like I was coming home.

Somehow (and please tell me what you think) I have a feeling that even if you didn’t grow up in the Central Valley or Lemon Tree, CA or Oaxaca, Mexico, that Ryan’s books would still hold a little of that homecoming feeling—characters that speak to you, that have a piece of your own struggles or insecurities, families that are central and important (and even a little broken), personal revelations that we have had or should have.

Characters that speak to you:

I identify with Naomi quite a bit—I feel like I have big things to say, but when I’m with groups of people, especially stronger personalities, the words can’t quite make it from my brain to my mouth. Naomi’s growth from mouse to lioness is empowering—for her and for me. I also like how her art helps her with that growth. Writing, for me, is an outlet like that.

Families that are central:

Even though Naomi’s family is less than traditional, I really like how important her family is to her. If you read a lot of YA literature, you’ll find that most protagonists are missing at least one parent, and spend most of their time in the novel independent from all adult-type characters. I’ve even heard at a writing conference that you have to “kill off,” either literally or figuratively, adult characters for YA novels to be successful (so as to let the protagonist be in control of their own actions). For the most part, I agree with that approach, but it is quite refreshing to see a protagonist that learns about her own independence and self-worth while maintaining her relationship with a strong and loving family unit.

Personal revelations:

Finally, there is the idea of identity—the “becoming” in Becoming Naomi Leon. Of course, there are many factors involved in Naomi’s growth, just as in all of ours. Her life on the border—between California and Mexico, between Owen and his tormentors, between her mother and grandmother, between English and Spanish—pull her in so many directions that it is both a joy and relief when she begins to bring those elements together to form a whole that is both flexible and strong. I think we’re all on the border of something, being pulled back and forth until we can figure out a compromise.

Etc:

Now for just a few things that I love about this book:

Owen’s tape
The book of lists
Gram
The Spray ’n Play
Baby Beluga
Animals made of radishes
Mr. Marble, the librarian (go libraries!)
Las Posadas


I’m excited to hear what you all have to say. Let’s get things going!