I have the need to read

I found some great books to read this summer, but I need more and a friend just put out the word on her blog for book suggestions and I figured, my readers are all smart individuals, I wonder what kind of awesome recommendations I'd get from them. There aren't any parameters, just give me a bit of a description or why you like it, etc so I have a little to go on. Trust me, I'm into a lot of different books. So.

Books for reading. Go.

it's another post about...

a book and adultery.

Please don't think I'm obsessed with these two things. It just so happens that I had no idea what this was about when, as I mentioned in a previous post that Jen loaned it to me. I didn't even crack it open. She gave it to me, oh geez, a month and a half ago. And I opened the front cover and read it. On Saturday.


Here's what I started writing about it 4 days ago...
Say When by Elizabeth Berg contains a subject matter that we've all discussed here and there a while back...marriage and adultery. I didn't know it when I picked it up. The cover and title, as my husband pointed out, seem to suggest another sort of relationship activity. But come Saturday afternoon and 256 pages later I knew the story is, at it's core, about adultery in a marriage.

Of course, it got me thinking about previous posts/blog discussions, friends dealing with this subject in their marriage right now, and my own opinions on the matter in reference to my marriage. But that's not what I want to talk about. We've done that. And frankly, I don't want to do it again right now, because although I know my opinions may change in the future, they haven't changed a bit since the last blog-scussion so, for now, we'll leave that be.

Instead, what I thought about - and what was briefly mentioned in the book - was why I got married and why I married who I did in the first place ... seven and a half years ago. I realize that I was young, we were both young. We were both world travelers, we had a history together - heck, we'd known each other for over five years. But we had no idea what marriage was all about. Of course we would never have admitted it back then. We wouldn't even have known we should admit it! We were in love and that's why people get married. Right?

the first moment he saw me after I'd
been out of the country for six months
photo by Cameron Ingalls

We've talked about how naive we both were about marriage, what it meant and how it worked. But what we both still agree on is that we were right to get married and we were right to get married when we did.

If you know us, in the real world, you know our marriage has not been all flowers and rainbows. Without going into detail, I'll just say that in our first 2 years of marriage we experienced 5 out of the 7 things they say will kill a marriage. So, we pretty much figure if we, and our marriage, could survive those early years, then we can survive the rest of life.

There is an argument for waiting to get married until you know who you are, until you're an adult and you've come into yourself, found who you are. I'll discuss that. But I'm going to be bias on the subject. What? I just am.

I want to leave the post with this... I like that we've learned what marriage and a true life-long relationship is all about together, as a couple. I like that we've known each other as teenagers, and that we've shared that angst. I like that together, we've grown up, figured out who we are, and learned what being an adult really means. I like that we're young and yet we've already known each other for over twelve years. I like that we've had tragedy and survived through it together. I like that there's been time to see our relationship evolve.



I like that he surprises me
with little chocolate vegan delights right when it's that time of the month





I like that we're best friends. I like that he makes up new names for me still, like he did when we first fell in love. I like that we can support each other in our dreams. I like that he loves me and I can tell. I like that I love him. I like that I still feel like this is a new love, no, not everyday. Not every minute. But, I still get butterflies, and my heart still skips a beat, and I wouldn't change a thing about my life.

tunnels & spoons

i like my job. my only job. yes that's right. I got a raise at my second job, supposedly to get me to work more or stay longer, but I haven't been back since. it isn't my fault. i'm committed to pushplay first and foremost, pure and simple and heck, we've been busy. Not a day off, even on the weekend. so. you should all know that even though i'm busy and worked a lot of days without much breaks. i love it. i have one job. since i ditched out on the other one and it's pretty full time. oh and did i mention that i love it? well i do. i love it.

i had a day off on saturday. it was tough. really. it was. i kept thinking the phone would ring, or i should check my email. but instead of those things happening. I read a book. Yes, an entire book. Jen loaned it to me. So. it's been a long time coming but here come two, yes two book blogs.


here we are. tired. in love. and happy about life.

never read a book i like.

i read a book and i'm not allowed to recommend it.


The book is by author Chuck Palahniuk, his most famous book, "Fight Club" was read by more than 300,000 people and seen by even more people as a movie, starring Brad Pit and directed by David Fincher.

As of now, I have read all of Chuck Palahniuk's books.
Fight Club
Survivor
Invisible Monsters
Choke
Lullaby
Fugitives & Refugees
Diary
Stranger Than Fiction
Haunted
Rant


Rant is his most recently published book and I finished it last week after being on the wait list at the Library for two months. I own all of his other books, excluding "Fugitives & Refugees" and "Stranger Than Fiction", the latter being his first non-fiction work (it is in no way associated with the movie starring Will Farrel, and for the record the book came out long before the movie) and the first being as close to an autobiography as you can get. I don't own these two not for any other reason than the "autobiography" was an afterthought for me to read and the non-fiction book in paperback is never at the second hand bookstore I frequent. I'll get it someday.

So.
Rant. Don't read it. It's gross. It's disturbing. I can never, in good conscience recommend anything Palahniuk writes. And "Rant" is no different. Although. Naw forget it. It'll never work.
I wish I could black out the gross, disturbing, mostly unnecessary, portions of the book and everyone could enjoy the genius writing that is a Palahniuk book. Cause, you see, the problem is ... I really like this book, (except for all the vague things I mentioned earlier, I refuse to go into detail, you don't deserve that). I am enthralled with the story. Mesmerized by the thought and depth that this book reaches. I wish, deep down, that I could recommend this book. Don't read this book.

ahh, i feel torn.

I guess I'm saying, if you're not the faint of heart kind of reader and you enjoy a writer with an amazing voice and ability to weave a story beyond what you think is reality...well, then please, borrow a Palahniuk book from me. But don't get mad at me when you're completely grossed out and disturbed, cause I never recommended that you read it.

*If you do want to borrow any of his books, we'll have to have a real heart to heart first...wait, never-mind, you can't borrow it. Forget I ever mentioned Palahniuk.

not a usual book on my shelf

It's all about economics. I have no understanding of economics, er wait, I didn't have an understanding of economics, until I read "Freakonomics".

"Freakonomics" is co-written by an economist, Steven Levitt, and a New York Times columnist, Stephen Dubner, and the combination of the factual information and clean writing is more than cohesive. It's easy to read and I appreciate the story-telling approach to this book, it made the concepts being discussed so much easier for me to wrap my brain around.

Because this is virtually my first experience with reading anything economics related, I can't judge for the validity of the topics they discuss. But, I do know that their approach is very different to some of the traditional reasoning behind economic calculations and I always love a good fiesty contradiction to the norm. I recommend this book to anyone that has a vague idea about economics, loves stories with meaning or, like me had no idea and wants to learn a bit about economics. I don't think I could now discuss economics at a dinner party, but at least I won't be lost if the subject's brought up.

not really worth knowing ... the book, not the blog

*Update below
It seems to have been a while since I've read a book. Actually, I've read a lot of books I've just been busy blogging about life. But, we were going on a loooong drive, to California, so I took a trip to the library and found a few things to occupy my time in the car... a little light reading, perhaps.

I read "The Devil Wears Prada" and enjoyed both the book and the movie, which for me, is rare. So when I saw another book written by Weisberger I decided to take a break from "Confessions of an Economic Hitman" to read a little chick lit.
Mistake, this was a huge mistake.

Let me begin my critique by admitting that chick lit books are like some people's romance novel, reality show, tabloid magazine, entertainment show, they're my guilty pleasure. I know they're silly and unreasonable. I know they're stereotypical and predictable and I forgive them for that. I do not forgive a good author for having a lack of interest in her character's dialogue. And let's face it, Ms. Weisberger probably got a lot of money from sales of the book and the movie rights to "The Devil Wears Prada". I would then assume she doesn't have to write another book. I'm assuming she wants to write another book.

Because it is a chick lit book, I forgive the predictable story-line and the cliché relationship interactions. I do not forgive dialogue between characters that sound exactly the same no matter what character's talking. These characters are drastically different. One's a nightclub bouncer. One's a debutant. One's a british playboy. One's a gay man. Alright, the gay man sounds different than everyone else. He sounds gay. So there's that.

I didn't mind the story or the characters. Really. But it was hard to read the dialogue when it took an extreme focus unusual to mindless chick lit reading to maintain an understanding of who the hell was talking.

I don't give stars, or points or whatever book reviewers give books and apparently, i don't give much praise either, at least this time I don't.

Read Anna Karenina.


*I hit publish on this post and then began browsing through other random blogs and just two clicks away, look what I came across...another blogger's review here regarding the same book. She has a very different take than I did. I thought it was funny.

The Little Friend

I finished this six-hundred and something pages of book a couple of days ago and the farthest I got with this review blog was downloading a photo of the book. To say the least I was just plain disappointed when it was over. We were hanging out the next day and Toby asked me what I was reading. I mentioned that I'd just finished a book so, of course, he asked what it was about and how I liked it.


That's when I realized how upset I was.

Apparently it isn't enough for me to read a giant book and enjoy the journey and the "place" the author takes me, I have to feel something more than just the accomplishment of reading a long book. I have to like it in the end.

You know when you watch a movie and at the end of it you feel like what's the point and then you complain about it to people and tell them it wasn't good? Well, I think that's dumb. Cause, seriously, what did you think Spiderman 3 was going to be about? It's called entertainment people. Geez.

I do not, however, hold literature in the same category and I think Donna Tartt, author of "The Little Friend" would appreciate me not characterizing her work as entertainment. This woman is a very gifted writer and she did extensive research that makes this book so authentic. What I then wonder is... Why take me on an incredible, insightful journey into a family traumatized for twelve years by the mysterious death of a child? Why explore the minds and lives of meth-amphetamine drug manufacturers and users? Why bring me into the world of a small southern town and create a fantastic setting? Why do these things and then pull a big finishing chapter hollywood ending?

I know, truth is often stranger than fiction, so when a book is - appropriately (see this blog) - categorized a non-fiction I allow for some "real life is crazy" moments. But when an author spends so much time focused on every detail, and she really did, then why, WHY I ask ruin it all with a gi-normous coincidence wrought ending? It just made me sad.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about then, well, that's okay. I don't want to talk anymore about this book. It's just making me depressed. And listen, if I'm depressed then I'll never get out of my p.j. pants.

Animal Farm

written by George Orwell

Of course I've read "Animal Farm", in fact it was in college (yes I went to college). But the problem was, when Andy (yes, again with the husband) began telling me about the correlation between Animal Farm and the Soviet communist party, well, I thought secretly "what?!?" I didn't mention anything about it, and since he was reading it at the time I couldn't pick it up (sharing a book is annoying). So when I saw it on the bookshelf years later I silently picked it up and read through it in a couple of days (it's short people, only 144 pages). My Literature course in college apparently sucked, because reading "Animal Farm" again with gutenbergians at my disposal was an entirely different experience.

And by the way, also thanks to the Gute, I now read introductions, prefaces, and the like, from now on I'll have a clue, even if no one tells me a thing.

"Animal Farm's" historically driven concepts push the novel beyond a simple story and I can't stand the knowledge gained from a work like this. Not only is the writing smart and informed, but, the story is just plain great and I can't get enough.

I just want to say "thank you" to Gutenberg and all the people that go with her. It may take me more than four years, but I think it's better this way. I am learning, little by little, piece by piece, one book at a time and I love it.

A Million Little Pieces

written by James Frey (and the devil)

The Smoking Gun retitled this book to: A Million Little Lies. If you want to find out what they have to say about this "memoir" check out "The Man Who Conned Oprah". I'm not going to discuss this controversial subject. I'm going to discuss what I think is a greater tragedy. The fact that this man can not write a decent sentence, tell a compelling story, or portray emotion. Just to prove my point, I am going to set the book on my lap, open to a random page and blindly land my finger on a section (you know like you did with the Bible when you needed God to speak to you?) and post it verbatim. This is going to be fun.


I get a tray and I get in line. I get a plate of chipped beef, a plate of chicken strips and rice, a plate of turkey taquitos. I carry the tray to the Dining Room. My friends are at a table in one of the far corners. I walk toward them.
I sit down so I can see Lilly and Lilly can see me. Leonard and Miles and Ed and Ted and Matty are talking about the imminent Heavyweight Boxing Match. They ask me what's new, I tell them about my Sentence. They are all surprised. They figured whatever time I was looking at was likely to be short and easy. Leonard asks what I did and I tell him...We eat. I glance at Lilly. We talk. Prison is the main topic of conversation.


Basically. This guy went through the "over 400 pages of records" from 6 weeks in re-hab and details for us what he ate at every meal...because that was probably a huge part of his time there and one of the most important parts of his recovery (?) EVERY meal. Also, the capitalization is not a mistake by me, yes, he really capitalized "Sentence" cause it's dramatic or something, and Leonard and Miles and Ed and Ted and Matty. This may not seem so bad to you (Jen knows what I'm talkin about though, she read a whole page of it) but trust me, it's bad.

I was also going to quote a conversation that he wrote, they really suck, but it was too annoying and I got fed up with re-reading any part of this book and I just returned it to the Library (of course I didn't buy the book!). I'm going to tell you about my experience at the Library when I went a looking for this...(well, I guess I'll call it a book) because this book didn't make me think about life or love or writing or anything really personal, except for the part when I got really pissed that this book was actually published and James Frey is super rich and will never have to work again for the rest of his life...

Anyways. upstairs on the 3rd floor of the Library, fiction, I search under "F" for Frays, or is it Fry or Fray or Fri??? Can't find it anywhere...hmm. I head over to the computer and search under title, I know that perfectly (a Million Little Lies, right?) I find it. There's one copy left and I head back to the "F's" as I have learned that it's spelled Frey. Alas, even though the computer says there's a copy available, I still can't find it. I head back over to the computer and look it up again. To my shock and dismay I had forgotten the biggest and best controversy to hit Oprah since the Beef thing...James Frey wrote a "MEMOIR" which means...and man am I dense...his book will be in the NON-fiction section of the Library. Sure enough, one floor down, amongst the encyclopedias and how-to books I find the ever so familiar book cover with the hand covered in sprinkles. And just cause I know Oprah would appreciate it (not cause I love her, but because I'm nice and I like helping people) - I stealthily remove the "Oprah's Bookclub sticker" from the cover.

Arlington Park

written by Rachel Cusk

"Set over the course of a single rainy day, the novel moves from one household to another, and through the passing hors conducts a deep examination of its characters' lives."

Previously, if I'd read this on the inside jacket of a book I would've put it back on the shelf and thought that not much could happen and why bother. Thanks to taking a chance on, and loving "One day in the Life.." and the fact that I wanted to read a new release next, "Arlington Park" fit the bill.

Set in London and following the intertwined lives of women living on Arlington Park seems like a good backdrop for a novel and at times it is. Many of the chapters are insightful, encouraging - in a backwards way (let's just say it made me appreciate the love of my good man and semi-quiet life we lead), and all are more than words on a page.

But, and here comes a little critique, sometimes I couldn't handle the fascinating, page after page of descriptions of rain...seriously. It's true. rain. I mean, I like rain, love it sometimes but 248 pages of one day, while it's raining? It was a little much.

I find myself searching for a focus in my novel. I wonder if reading the latest novel is helpful anymore. I need these influences in some way, because,
- if you already know what I'm writing you can skip this part -

The main character in my novel is a twenty-something woman, working in the highly popular culture of fashion and glamor. Her life is seemingly the epitome of so many a young girls list of life goals. She is married to a high-power man, with luxury and all the good. She is unsatisfied though, and finds a better man to fulfill her where her husband has not.

...because, for my main character to come to a moral climax she has to be someone that would "fit" in the world that these "chick-lit" novels portray. When I find my novel taking a more real life turn, I pick up another chick-lit book and re-focus my character back into the world she needs to live in.

So...I need these books. But I am writing (my book) because I despise these books. The characters never suffer consequences for their evil deeds. That is what I am writing against. And that is what I am hoping to expose with my own book and perhaps change the way we view what chick lit is supposed to be. To stay focused on my end result (and my ending that includes consequences), I can not read these chick lit books, they are a distraction and they, basically, make my writing suck. But to write a compelling "beginning" to my story, I MUST read and read with a mind to devour and soak in their meaning and feeling and sense of being that a chick lit offers.

I am stuck. My mind seems to full of everything. So, I'm reading C.S.Lewis' "The Discarded Image"

Moral Disorder

written by Margaret Atwood

If you want to tell and story about a family, and you want to connect other characters' stories throughout, and you want a book of compelling-on-their-own short stories - then give up, Margaret Atwood already did it.

I am intrigued by mental illness. It is something I am researching for my own endeavor in the world of a writer. One of the short stories in this novel revolves around a sister's mental illness and the destruction that shoddy medical opinions and mis-perscribed medication take on her. I have discovered that in life, misdiagnoses happens, doctors can be misinformed, or not informed at all on a subject, disease, condition or there is the always depressing money factor. Either the doctor is in a low-income clinic or the doctor is in a high-class practice being somewhat forced to see low-income patients. Either way, the care this patient receives may be less than helpful.

All of that aside. Any form of mental illness is devastating and thus intriguing - at least to me. Why are any of us given a clear mind, a strong understanding of life and its challenges, or an ability to change and adapt to pain, suffering, love, happiness? By God's grace. By God's love.
But why are we also given the challenges, the pain, the suffering, the love, the happiness? By God's grace. By God's love. These are my only answers and my only explanation. I don't quite understand each in their fullness, but I don't mind. To know God has a say in my life, a desire for me and a plan has peace attached, but it also brings me the fear of the unknown trials and pain. That is the pessimist in me - quite the opposite to my last blog, eh? I have a hard time viewing life (as a whole) feeling joyful for the good God has in His plan and more dread in the fear of the challenges and devastation.

I would appreciate insight and opinions.

I've been learning recently about God's love and the fact that His love for me does not always translate into warm fuzzies. At times, His love includes pain and at it's worst, tradegy. To attempt to remain thankful. God is teaching me this lesson, over and over again. I am trying to be thankful living in His will, whatever tragedy befalls and I hope you attempt the same. I am a blessed woman. Thank God for His Love.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

written by Jonathan Safran Foer

Before requesting this book at the library, I checked out "Everything is Illuminated" and found the writing exceptional, the storytelling insightful and the subject matter engaging. The problem lay in the fact that I had seen the movie, starring Elijah Woods, and I really liked it. I liked it so much that I knew I would love the book. The problem was...I had seen the movie, and it was done well, to well.
"All the ladies want to be carnal with me cause I am such a primo dancer," was to fresh in my mind, I couldn't get past the movie to read the book. It was heartbreaking.


My desire to read a work by Foer led me to his next novel and I was thoroughly pleased. At first, the layout and flow of the chapters are a bit jolting. There is a tendency to let your mind wander rather than expend the effort it takes to engage in the quirks of this style. But, wait a moment and allow the jostling to be a soothing ride. This book did not disappoint.

There is a side story in is this novel, involving a grandmother. She is writing a diary as such to her grandson, explaining to him how her marriage of rules had made her life so confined that it was a waste. I pondered over this idea for some time, realizing how I may have made my own marriage a "marriage of rules". There are rules about where things belong, how to wash them, who is in charge of one thing or another and on and on. I was, well, depressed. In the book, the husband has left. He has walked away, he does not want to be confined by all the rules.

This Marriage of Rules is killing them.

I discovered something about my marriage, thank you Mr. Foer. My marriage has guidelines, my marriage has boundaries, my marriage has certain tastes and desires, my marriage has preferences. But to call it a Marriage of Rules would be doing it such a disservice. Our marriage is a marriage of life, and one worth treasuring, one worth fighting for. And sometimes fighting for this marriage means compromising about how something is done, or where it belongs. There is no right way or wrong way to live life (i'm not talking spirituality or morals, i'm talking folding laundry and putting the dishes away) so how can we follow any list of rules? We can't. We can respect one another, be a helper to one another, and take the burden of life's chores from one another.

So, if there is a marriage where one person is making the rules and the other person is being forced to live by them; that is a Marriage of Rules. But in a partnership, defining these things as rules, is in my opinion, a pessimistic approach to marriage. I think ours is simply, marriage. Rules may exists in some form or another, but they do not define our marriage. I now understand that Foer's example is not a mirror of my marriage and I don't need to fear a similar end result. There will be other things to fear, but also, just so you know at least I don't have to fear death, I'm pretty sure Andy promised he'd never die.



Oh, and read the book I think you'll end up liking it like I did.

Anna Karenina

written by Leo Tolstoy



Not only do I have a great admiration for Mr. Tolstoy, but I now have a great admiration for his characters. Through life, tragedy befalls all of us. But never has it been told with such elegance. I adore this book. It will be one of those books that I will read over and over again. I will never outgrow it, I will never be bored of it. It is a beautiful piece of literature and I am so happy my husband convinced me it was worth reading.

Anna Karenina taught me what an accomplished storyteller does. I am inspired and disheartened all at once. This is what writing is meant to be.

i read a book or two.

this being the first of a new series of blogs i wanted to give a bit of an insight into my history with books.

i read, a lot of books. i always have. i hope i always will.
i used to only read mysteries. books with intrigue - mostly Nancy Drew...i've read them all.
Now i find myself reading all type, historical, fiction, "non-fiction" newly published, translated, short story and graphic novel and i wonder if i'll ever remember them all.

my first series of blogs are not so much book reviews, but more a collection of books i read and what it is they make me think...