Currently Reading: March Madness

I’ve gotten into the rotten habit of reading multiple books at one time. On one hand, it helps me keep reading on a daily basis because I can better choose a book to fit my particular mood. On the other hand, I never feel like I’m making any kind of adequate progress and then I get into a funk because it takes me too long to finish an entire book. And yet, I can’t stop.

I started Pachinko by Min Jin Lee roughly two weeks ago. Everyone has heard of this multi generational family drama following a Korean family in Japan during the 20th Century. Deep down I know that I’m not in the right head space for a chunkster. About a week ago I tried to set it aside but couldn’t leave the characters behind. They called to me from my bookshelf desperate to return to my reading life. Sunja threatened to knife me in my sleep. So one chapter a day it is.

On the nonfiction front, I’m dipping in and out of Boy Erased by Garrard Conley. Again, I don’t know if it’s the right time for this book despite how much I’m liking it. Conley is recounting his time in a infamous gay conversion therapy organization that he voluntarily joined in 2004 at 19 years old. I randomly pulled this off my unread nonfiction shelf instead of choosing what I was specifically in the mood for. Never do that, future self. You know better.

Another problematic selection is Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb which I started a month ago on audio. I’m a rotten audio listener. It takes me forever AND EVER AND EVER to finish listening to a book. Because podcasts call to me more so than books on tape. But 4.5 hours in I’m enjoying the hell out of this story which makes me so happy because I wasn’t the biggest fan of The Farseer Trilogy. THERE ARE PIRATES.

Speaking of pirates, why am I also reading Cinnamon and Gunpowder by Eli Brown? Another book about pirates which is going to get confused with Ship of Magic at some point. I’ve broken the cardinal rule of multiple book reading. DON’T READ BOOKS THAT ARE TOO SIMILAR. But here I am in read-a-like hell. Mad Hannah Abbott will not let me go, though. So I’m stuck. Rad BAMF lady pirates who kill people with customized duel jade handled pistols is a perfectly acceptable place to be stuck so I’m okay with this development. Plus, FOOD PORN.

Do y’all do this? Does it drive you batty like it does me? Do you feel guilty and shameful? Do you decide to ignore this guilt and shame and persevere into this literary madness? Please tell me I am not alone.

Next up: I discuss my Three Dark Crowns feelings.

Remember Me?

Haha, I wrote this years ago and never even posted it. But I’m posting it today, goddammit. I’m going to blog again. As a writing exercise. 

Once upon a time I wrote almost every day. Whether it was decent fanfiction or marginally interesting book reviews, the creative part of me that liked putting words into sentences was able to climax. Semi-decent orgasms all around. Occasionally something satisfied me enough to warrant a cigarette. You get the picture.

I haven’t written more than some random Tumblr microblogging in a long while. I’ve had ideas about comic scripts, novels, and many, many half-finished short stories starring odd children who talk to fake plastic turtles. I even started a tiny letter that was meant to be a space where I could write something – anything – even if it was the literal worst. So far, it’s been a bunch of crickets chirping. Someone needs to kill those damn crickets already. But not me. Because they hop – at random – like in my face. No thanks.

And to be honest, I’m lost. I feel like a merry-go-round that has slowed down to a crawl but is too damned stubborn to just stop already. Today I got a lot of my day job spreadsheeting done and it depressed me. Because the thing I spend hours (that might be a stretch, sue me) doing every day is just not fulfilling the part of me that craves the creative orgasm. Accounting pays the bills, but it also basically blackens my already cold, dead-ish heart and chips away at whatever little bits of soul I have left. That’s not dramatic at all.

Right now, I’m listening to Amy Poehler’s audiobook recording of her memoir, Yes Please, and she’s talking about bitches getting shit done. But is getting shit done enough? I got a lot of shit done today and I’m still lacking whatever productive important feeling of euphoria I’m supposed to feel. Sure, there were small moments where I figured something out and was briefly happy. But something tells me that on my death bed I won’t be looking back at my life thinking – God, getting that Section H testing workpaper done was just so goddamn meaningful. So what now Amy Poehler? What would Leslie Knope do?

Likely, they’d each figure out a way to do both – make money and make creative orgasms. I imagine we’d have a little laugh over some particularly witty joke about creative orgasms being a lot like making love to yourself because masturbation jokes are always hilarious. That’s life hack #89. And so here I am taking a small part of my afternoons this week to write whatever this is. It might be horrible to read (I’m being generous with the ‘might be’ there), but I’m okay with that because I’m a bitch getting shit done even if I’m not quite where I want to be yet. The most pivotal part of writing is to – this is really shocking, ya’ll – WRITE. You should be paying me for this advice, honestly.

Moral of the story? I’m back. And yes, this will still mostly be a book-ish blog, albeit a casual one.

State of My Reading

It’s been so, so long since I’ve posted here. That makes me sad and incredibly happy all at once. I wish I missed writing about books more, but I don’t. It got tedious and tiresome and boring. And frankly, I just never felt like I found my voice here. I always felt like some other version of ‘Brooke’ who was trying too hard.

Sigh.

I now spend most of my time on Tumblr talking The Walking Dead. That’s my current happy place. Even though it can be a total freakshow over there. And wow, people can be such douchecanoes. But I’ve made some awesome friends. I’ve even booked tickets to San Diego next summer to spend some time with a couple of said new friends.

I’m still reading! But I’m following ZERO rules. Well, beyond keeping up with my IRL book club. And I’ve been reading the Riot Read selections. Other than that – FREEDOM! I choose whatever I want, whenever I want. And it is GLORIOUS. No lists, no goals, no pressures. No – ‘I’m not reading enough of this or that’. No – ‘I’m reading too much of that or this’. No guilt. Because enough was enough.

That’s not to say I’m not being a conscious reader. I still believe in reading diversely. But I don’t weigh myself down with expectations and numbers and statistics. I don’t make myself TBR lists. I go to my shelves and pick out books that speak to me in that particular moment. And I’ve been reading slump free. Because sometimes I just don’t want to read novels, dammit. So then comics become my main jam. And that’s totally fucking fine.

Right now I’m having a little nonfiction moment. I’ve read books by Jen Kirkman and Julia Child. I’m in the middle of Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay. Five Days at Memorial by Sheri Fink is next on the list. I can’t remember the last time I let myself linger over nonfiction. I WAS SO LOST FOR SO LONG.

Maybe I’ll come back here one day. Maybe I’ll find myself posting from time to time. Who knows? And who really cares? I miss the lovely bloggers I interacted with on a daily basis. But y’all are still over on Twitter when I need you! I care so much more about conversations these days anyway. I’m DONE with reviews. DONE AND DONE.

Anyway, just wanted to stop by, explain my absence, and wish y’all a merry Friday.

 

Casino Royale by Ian Fleming

15954464Oh, James Bond. How I love thee. At least when you are brought to life by Daniel Craig. Casino Royale and Skyfall are two of my favorite movies of all time so I decided to give the source material a read. I worried the books wouldn’t live up to my love of the films and that the woman-hate would be too hard to overcome.

The first Bond novel, Casino Royale, is at first about a high stakes baccarat game between a British Secret Services operative, our handsome Bond, and the soviet scumbag, Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre has lost millions of dollars that belong to a high terrorist conglomerate, SMERSH, and he needs to win this showdown if he’s to save his own life. But pesky James is always in the way. Interrupting Bond’s game playing is that beguiling minx, Vesper Lynd. She’s been assigned to work with Bond in the field and becomes quite the player in Bond’s work and surprisingly, his heart.

Gotta say – a great overall reading experience. I loved Fleming’s writing. His novel reads like a literary page-turner that manages to feel far less dated than I would have thought. The sexism is there, but I think Vesper’s character is far more interesting than just some piece of meat for Bond to bed. She’s extremely important to this novel and the rest of Bond’s life. I could get annoyed that she ultimately ends up being a boobed villain without much depth, but I like when a woman manages to sneak up on a world renowned master spy – so sue me.

The book is different enough from the movie to be a worthwhile read. I’m also convinced that Bond’s character in the books is far less campy playboy, and much more brooding, clever lone wolf with a sharp tongue and sense of humor. For this reason, I really appreciate the newer films even more and believe Daniel Craig’s Bond to be very faithful to the source material. Reading the novel allows one to get inside James’s mind and see that there’s a lot going on there – at least in this initial offering. He philosophizes ideas of good and evil. He also weighs his role of hired killer in a far more moral and intriguing way than one might expect.  Bond is blunt about the world he sees and how he sees himself.

So I definitely recommend Casino Royale to anyone with even the slightest interest in 007. It’s a great companion to the movie and a wonderful addition to any readathon TBR. I’ll definitely be continuing on with Fleming’s next Bond installment!

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

15783514Much like The Illusion of Separateness that I reviewed on Monday, I adored every single thing about this novel and have nothing negative to say about it. The Ocean at the End of the Lane is my first full length Gaiman. My local indie bookstore tweeted me that they had signed copies available, and I ran immediately to pick this delightful little story up. I sat down the next evening and read it in one sitting. Four hours that ran the emotional gamut. READ. THIS. BOOK.

I’m not going to really add a synopsis. The less you know the better. At its most basic level, Ocean is a middle aged man’s memories of the year he turned seven and the Hempstock women he came to know.

Again, such a short book packed with so many great and wonderful things. Gaiman’s themes are deeply explored and his relevant characters so full-bodied. I loved looking at the ideas of memory, aging, childhood, power, imagination, loneliness, and so many more through the eyes of our narrator – a thinly disguised young Gaiman, himself. I also found the reading of this novel deeply personal and much more intense knowing that Gaiman wrote it when he and his wife were navigating a rough patch in their marriage.

Someone on Twitter (so sorry I don’t recall who) said he wasn’t sure if this was Gaiman’s best work, but it cut the deepest. That summation has stayed with me, and I believe might be the best way to describe Ocean.  It leaves the reader feeling slightly raw but all the better for it. Do yourself a favor and read it immediately. Don’t wait to finish your current book – don’t think about reading Gaiman from beginning to end – just go get The Ocean at the End of the Lane and inhale it. You won’t be sorry. Then go share it with someone you love.

The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer

15815333The Interestings has quite a title to live up to, don’t you think? And hype. I scoured the interwebs recently trying to find blog reviews that weren’t positive – and let me just tell you those are few and far between. Most bloggers have already added this to their best of 2013 lists. I so badly wanted to be one of them.

Wolitzer’s world opens on six young teenagers attending a rural Massachusetts summer camp for artistic youth. Jules, Ash, Goodman, Ethan, Jonah, and Cathy call themselves ‘The Interestings’ in hopes that they will grow up to work in their particular artsy-fartsy field of talent and be uber successful. As they grow and age over the next 40 years, the reader follows along and watches each character bumble, fumble, thrive, and, ultimately, survive the trials of their individual fates.

It’s a very simple premise, no doubt, but one that intrigued me for whatever reason. I like long, sweeping stories that take the time to richly develop characters through gorgeous prose. Wolitzer is a fantastic storyteller. She weaves together chronological plot and flashes of memory seamlessly. I was amazed at how flawlessly she fades in and out of various memories without the story feeling disjointed. It felt natural, organic, and full of talent. The characters were well-drawn and filled with petty jealousies, disappointment, bad manners, loyalty, kindness, and a warm sense of honesty I deeply appreciated. At least for the first half of the book.

Something happened in the middle and that something wasn’t magic. After being enthralled with Jules and her friends for nearly 250 pages, the whole thing just sort of fell apart for me. I’m not sure if everything just started feeling repetitive, the character growth evaporated, or if the whole thing just felt too damn long after awhile. I do know that the second half was rushed and less developed. Whereas the first part covered 15 years, the second was left to cover 25 years in the same amount of pages and that didn’t work. For me, at least.

Despite really struggling to finish the book, the last 50 pages made a comeback. I was once again wrapped up in the characters and frantically reading to find out how their lives would end (at least my time spent in their lives, not necessarily THE END). The last paragraphs and the final sentence were poignant and rendered me glad to have finished despite the difficulties.

So tell me: Did you go to summer camp? How many friends from your childhood do you still interact with regularly?

Monday Salon

600859_10102150884277510_1820388992_nA whirlwind weekend! Another wedding in the books and a lovely Sunday spent exploring our city! I’m choosing to ignore the never ending rain. Saturday night we attended a fancy pants wedding of some former co-workers so it was like one huge reunion. Plus an open bar. Sunday afternoon we went to the Atlanta History Center which is essentially a museum of all things Atlanta. Love being a tourist in my own city! Plus, their gift shop was filled with amazing books. It took me forever to choose which one to buy, but I eventually settled on the tales of Uncle Remus by Joel Chandler Harris. Such a beautiful edition published by the Beehive Press of Savannah. 

This week I’m hoping to hear back from the company I interviewed with last week. After speaking to the two ladies I’d be working with, I am so excited about the job and think this might be my dream position in the accounting world. I’m also hoping to jump back on the exercise bandwagon. Then there’s all the house cleaning, maybe some lounging in the sun, and lots of reading, obviously.

What else am I up to? Let’s see. Went to watch Iron Man 3 Thursday night with the Hubs. We enjoyed the movie. Jimmy loves any action film. He gets so angry with me if I try to discuss character development or plot in regards to his summer popcorn flicks. Robert Downey Jr. is just a joy to watch. Now the countdown to The Great Gatsby is officially on and I cannot wait! I’ve also been listening to some book podcasts recently. I stumbled upon one called Literary Disco which was created by none other than Rider Strong! Loving it.