As I had forgotten that I have a blog, and thankfully, every other person on the planet (even the bots, Russian and otherwise) have forgotten as well, I have a place to publish my scant offerings of words where no one will EVER see them.  Win-Win, I tell you!  I get the satisfaction of putting my work out into the universe without any of the repercussions of other human beings ever seeing them.  Yay me! 

I'm starting a little experiment this month and I'll share it here.  I am trying to write, unfettered, for five minutes every morning, a la Anne Lamott's "shitty first draft".  The only exception is that these are not really first drafts, per se.  There will never be second drafts.  I'm using a book of writing prompts designed for junior high or high school students.  Right on target for where I'm at in my writing these days.  Probably a stretch. 

Nevertheless, by pressing "publish", I'm committing to doing this.  Even if no one ever sees.  I'm like that tree that falls in the forest without anyone around to hear. 

Give or take a few, these are some of the books I've read over the past two years.  The titles in bold type are what I would highly recommend.



Blessed Are the Cheesemakers
Lynch, Sarah-Kate *

An Incomplete and Inaccurate History of Sport: . .and Other Random Thoughts from Childhood to Fatherhood
Mayne, Kenny

American Dreamers: The Wallaces and The Reader's Digest: An Insider's Story
Canning, Peter

Burning Bright
Chevalier, Tracy *


Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister
Maguire, Gregory

A Man Called Peter: The Story of Peter Marshall
Marshall, Catherine

Out of the Silent Planet (Space Trilogy, #1)
Lewis, C.S.

Some Luck (Last Hundred Years: A Family Saga, #1)
Smiley, Jane *

Early Warning (Last Hundred Years: A Family Saga, #2)
Smiley, Jane *


Eligible (The Austen Project #4)
Sittenfeld, Curtis *

Funny Girl
Hornby, Nick

Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck
Alkon, Amy

The Husband's Secret
Moriarty, Liane *

When Breath Becomes Air
Kalanithi, Paul

LaRose
Erdrich, Louise

Sick in the Head: Conversations About Life and Comedy
Apatow, Judd

Saint Maybe
Tyler, Anne

My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey
Taylor, Jill Bolte

The Summer Before the War
Simonson, Helen *

300 Sandwiches: A Multilayered Love Story . . . with Recipes
Smith, Stephanie

Buddhaland Brooklyn
Morais, Richard C. *

My Name Is Lucy Barton
Strout, Elizabeth

I Remember Nothing: and Other Reflections
Ephron, Nora

After You (Me Before You, #2)
Moyes, Jojo *

The Girl in the Red Coat
Hamer, Kate *

The Marriage of Opposites
Hoffman, Alice *

The Sparrow (The Sparrow, #1)
Russell, Mary Doria *

Saint Mazie
Attenberg, Jami *

The Martian
Weir, Andy *

As Good as Dead
Evans, Elizabeth *

Counting by 7s
Sloan, Holly Goldberg *

The Pope's Daughter
Fo, Dario

The Wonder of All Things
Mott, Jason *

The Nightingale
Hannah, Kristin *

The Little Paris Bookshop
George, Nina *

The Girl on the Train
Hawkins, Paula *

Many Waters (A Wrinkle in Time Quintet, #4)
L'Engle, Madeleine

After You (Me Before You, #2)
Moyes, Jojo *

Purity
Franzen, Jonathan

A Spool of Blue Thread
Tyler, Anne

Daughter of the Queen of Sheba: A Memoir
Lyden, Jacki

The Sellout
Beatty, Paul

The Circle
Eggers, Dave

The Invention of Wings
Kidd, Sue Monk *

Inside the O'Briens
Genova, Lisa *

The Rosie Effect (Don Tillman, #2)
Simsion, Graeme *

One Plus One
Moyes, Jojo *

You Could Be Home by Now
Manaster, Tracy *

The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy (Harold Fry, #2)
Joyce, Rachel

Why Not Me?
Kaling, Mindy

Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things
Lawson, Jenny *

The Book of Speculation
Swyler, Erika

Nora Webster
Tóibín, Colm

Everybody's Got Something
Roberts, Robin

The Boston Girl
Diamant, Anita *

Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church
Evans, Rachel Held

Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls
Sedaris, David

The Hundred Days
Roth, Joseph

Delicious!
Reichl, Ruth

Looking for Me
Hoffman, Beth *

First Frost (Waverley Family, #2)
Allen, Sarah Addison *

Yes Please
Poehler, Amy

All the Light We Cannot See
Doerr, Anthony *

Love, Death and the Ladies' Drill Team
West, J.

Lost Lake (Lost Lake, #1)
Allen, Sarah Addison *

The Good Lord Bird
McBride, James *

Winner of the National Book Award: A Novel of Fame, Honor, and Really Bad Weather
Willett, Jincy

Jesus Feminist: An Invitation to Revisit the Bible’s View of Women
Bessey, Sarah *

The Great Divorce: a Nineteenth-Century Mother's Extraordinary Fight Against Her Husband, the Shakers, and Her Times
Woo, Ilyon

Zelda
Milford, Nancy

7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess
Hatmaker, Jen

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life
Miller, Donald

Walden
Thoreau, Henry David

The Call of the Wild
London, Jack

The Lost Princess: A Double Story
MacDonald, George

Several Short Sentences About Writing
Klinkenborg, Verlyn

The Smart One
Close, Jennifer *

The International Bank of Bob: Connecting Our Worlds One $25 Kiva Loan at a Time
Harris, Bob *

Fear of Flying
Jong, Erica

Servants' Hall: A Real Life Upstairs, Downstairs Romance
Powell, Margaret

Data, A Love Story: How I Gamed Online Dating to Meet My Match
Webb, Amy *

The Sleepy Hollow Family Almanac
D'Agostino, Kris

Blood & Beauty: The Borgias
Dunant, Sarah

What We Talk about When We Talk about God
Bell, Rob

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow
Leganski, Rita

Jujitsu Rabbi and the Godless Blonde: A True Story
Dana, Rebecca

The Middlesteins
Attenberg, Jami *

Hikikomori and the Rental Sister: A Novel
Backhaus, Jeff *

Flight Behavior
Kingsolver, Barbara

Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
Winterson, Jeanette

The Rosie Project (Don Tillman, #1)
Simsion, Graeme *

The Light Between Oceans
Stedman, M.L. *

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
Strayed, Cheryl *

The Next Best Thing
Weiner, Jennifer *

The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.
Waldman, Adelle *

The World's Strongest Librarian: A Memoir of Tourette's, Faith, Strength, and the Power of Family
Hanagarne, Josh *

God's Hotel: A Doctor, a Hospital, and a Pilgrimage to the Heart of Medicine
Sweet, Victoria

I've Always Wanted to Work in a Bookstore. And Live in the Appalachians. And Be a Quaker.

The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap: A Memoir of Friendship, Community and the Uncommon Pleasure of a Good Book. This book, by Ethnographer and Used Bookstore Owner, Wendy Welch, is the book I wish I could have written. It is a love song to books, bookstores, and reading and makes me dream of, perhaps, becoming a Quaker and moving to The Appalachians. I loved every part of this book, from the epigraphs to the acknowledgements. Every single page. Every single word. What Wendy Welch writes of is the stuff of my dreams.

Vacation and Murder

I have this crazy little dream to visit all of the state capitol buildings in the United States. I have a few under my belt.

California's is my favorite thus far, simply because I am SO IN LOVE with my home state.

New York was definitely the most sculptural. If you are ever in Albany and have have the chance to go inside, the hundreds of delicately hand carved faced in the sandstone walls are stunning. A little creepy, but in a super cool way.

Connecticut holds a special place in my heart because my eldest son and I were able to get access to the staircase that takes you to the top of the dome and the walkway ON THE OUTSIDE! We were on the outside of the very top of the building, people! Outside! My spidey skills were itching to be used. With great power comes great responsibility, you know, so I held it together and just took a few photos.

Wyoming's building in Cheyenne is the only capitol building to have a statue of a woman in front. Go Wyoming!

North Dakota? Seriously? You could do so much better than a 70's era office building that has a sign that says North Dakota State Capitol. I expected so much more from the noble Dakotans.

Every building I visit has it's own fabulous feature: statues, tributes, mile high markers (how could I ever forget you, Colorado?). With each visit I learn more about our country and the uniqueness of each state. With each visit, I feel more a part of America. I feel connected.

Sarah Vowell's hilarious and historical book "The Assassination Vacation" is like a visit to a state capitol for me, if wandering around the outside of capitol buildings checking for unlocked doors was the same thing as visiting sites related to presidential assassinations. Reading it gave me a sense of connection to historical events that have shaped the country I live in today. It helped me feel connected. It helps me to remember, as much as the situationally racist orange guy likes to shout it, America isn't worse off today than it was when President Lincoln skulked about, being all emancipatory and stuff.

Here's the deal, studying history, especially history delivered in a relevant and engaging way, helps us to see that there is truly nothing new under the sun. Even if it does feel like we are all going to hell in a handbasket that we bought at Wal-Martville made by child laborers, it's all going to be o.k. When I read of the shitshow that was the Republican nominating convention of 1880, where James Garfield was nominated to be the presidential candidate in the 36th round of voting, my heart stops palpitating for a moment at the thought of the current pile of ridiculousness that we are calling politics. It's all going to be o.k. When we take the time to examine what has happened in the past and how we, both individually and as a collective people, have managed to make it through relatively unscathed (well, except for Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley, in this case), it can provide the perspective that the tiny little moment of time we are experiencing right at this very moment isn't all there is. In the grand scheme of things, it's just that: a tiny, little moment. It only seems all-encompassing to us because that is all we are able to see.

State capitol buildings, presidential assassination sites, plaques on large rocks in Upstate New York, whatever it takes to move someone to study the history of their place, whatever it takes to help people to calm the heck down and realize that it's all going to be o.k. We've gone through muck and mire before, we've been afraid of change before, we've watched our leaders be total buttheads and make butthead-ish decisions before, and still, we have survived. In fact, some might think we've become a better place because of it. All I know is I love capitol buildings and have about 40 to go. Watch out South Dakota, unlock those doors and polish up the dome, because I am coming for you!

When All You Have is a Paper Placemat

Save the waitresses, I am the only woman in the whole restaurant. The counter, the booths, the tables are all occupied by old men. A few sit by themselves, absorbed in their newspapers and eggs. Most of them, though, sit in groups of three or four. They talk about the things of those who aren't old enough to be elderly but for whom youth is faint. From the corner booth, I hear snippets of wives, of diabetes, of boyhood fistfights. Bravado is gone and these men, in their knit beanies, remember being afraid to fight but doing it anyway. The tenderness with which they treat one another is wrapped in a crunchy layer of ribbing and is beautiful.

For that one, serene coffee shop moment, I see these men as the they boys they once were, that they still are, behind their grey beards and their glasses and the careful chewing of toast.

Not About Books.

I read this, today, on one of my favorite blogs. Jenny Lawson, a broad with whom I would like to drink gin, shared a beautiful, heart wrenching, bare to the bones post about her fight against depression and anxiety disorder. I have nothing to add to it except this: me too.

Here it is. Thanks Bloggess. Read the entire post here:

If you follow me on twitter you already know that I’ve been battling off one of the most severe bouts of depression I’ve ever had. Yesterday it started to pass, and for the first time in weeks I cried with relief instead of with hopelessness. Depression can be crippling, and deadly. I’m lucky that it’s a rare thing for me, and that I have a support system to lean on. I’m lucky that I’ve learned that depression lies to you, and that you should never listen to it, in spite of how persuasive it is at the time.

When cancer sufferers fight, recover, and go into remission we laud their bravery. We call them survivors. Because they are.

When depression sufferers fight, recover and go into remission we seldom even know, simply because so many suffer in the dark…ashamed to admit something they see as a personal weakness…afraid that people will worry, and more afraid that they won’t. We find ourselves unable to do anything but cling to the couch and force ourselves to breathe.

When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker…but as survivors. Survivors who don’t get pats on the back from coworkers who congratulate them on making it. Survivors who wake to more work than before because their friends and family are exhausted from helping them fight a battle they may not even understand.

Regardless, today I feel proud. I survived. And I celebrate every one of you reading this. I celebrate the fact that you’ve fought your battle and continue to win. I celebrate the fact that you may not understand the battle, but you pick up the baton dropped by someone you love until they can carry it again. I celebrate the fact that each time we go through this, we get a little stronger. We learn new tricks on the battlefield. We learn them in terrible ways, but we use them. We don’t struggle in vain.

We win.

We are alive.

Note: Again, as much as I would love to write this movingly, this is not my work and was originally posted on www.thebloggess.com. She's amazing. And funny. Read her blog.

Broads with whom I would drink gin.

I think Kristin Chenoweth and I should be BFF's.

In fact, if I could have a cocktail party with some famous women, she would top the list.

She and Bette Midler.

And Dolly Parton. Shoot, Olympia Dukakis could come too, if she wasn't busy.

For that matter, most anyone in the cast of "Steel Magnolias" would be welcome. Daryl Hannah might have to bring some gin. I always seem to run out.

And as long as we are completely ignoring all sense of reality, I would love for Eleanor Roosevelt to stop by. She'd be a hoot. We'd definitely need more gin. Bring two bottles, Daryl.

While we're at it, let's just send an invite to Rita Moreno, Julia Child and Jenny Lawson, too. If you haven't read Jenny's blog, The Bloggess, you need to. I really mean it. I hope she wears her wolf suit to the party. That would rock like a hurricane.

Added to the list, just recently, is Ree Drummond. She is more widely known at the Pioneer Woman and her blog often leaves me with tears running down my cheeks from laughing and drool dribbling off of my chin from her delicious recipes. I read her adorable memior, "Black Heels and Tractor Wheels", on my 20th anniversary weekend with my fabulous husband. He doesn't like to talk while he drives. I get more than a little antsy if there is more than 5 minutes of unoccupied silence. I have to read in order to stay married and not dropped on the side of the road somewhere. It's for my own good.

"Black Heels and Tractor Wheels" is a sweet, sweet story of how she and her husband met, fell in love and married. Sweet, sweet, sweet. My poor husband had to listen to me oohing and ahhing the entire drive. Poor guy.

Relationship Advice from Winston Churchill

It's been a long while since I've visited WUIDK (Dude, I think I just created a catchphrase! Nevermind. Scratch that. There's no such thing as a "dk" dipthong.) Awesome catchphrases aside, just because I haven't been posting, does not mean that I haven't been reading. The "Owen" project is going slowly but steadily. Right now I am SLOGGING through a book written in 1899 by Winston Churchill (but not THAT Winston Churchill) about pre-Revolutionary War America. It's fiction. Richard Carvel is the title. Apparently, this Winston Churchill attended the Naval Academy, worked for Cosmopolitan Magazine (yes, THAT Cosmopolitan Magazine) and wrote historical fiction.

Wouldn't it be awesome, though, if the non-historical fiction writing Winston Churchill worked for Cosmo? Couldn't you just SEE the teasers? "Never, never, never give up . . . pleasing your man!" Or "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference . . . in bed!" Or what about "Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential. Your man will thank us for this!".

My mind reels.

In any case, I've got a couple of books on my nightstand right now. I'll try to post when I can.

Note: I have been reading a great many blogs these days (Damn you, Pinterest!) and I feel I must apologize that I do not have any of those fancy picture making skills that so many of my favorite bloggers have. I just have words. Maybe if you pulled out a box of crayons every time you read my tiny offerings, that would suffice? Let me know how that works out.

When I was a young girl, I read every book in my house. My mother was a reader and loved books. So was I. I still am. During the summers I would go to the library and pick up the "Recommended Reading" pamphlets and make a goal to start at the top of the list and read every book. Needless to say, I'm not super motivated by goals, and my literary mission would soon fall by the wayside and I fell back to re-reading the stacks in my own little collection. Story of my life.

A book that was ALWAYS included in those reading lists was "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn"

by Betty Smith. How could I have missed out on this book, especially since the title starts with "A"? Was I that lazy that I quit so shortly after starting? How is it that I survived my navel gazing, woe is me teen years without reading the WONDERFUL story of Francie Nolan? Born in 1901, the story follows Francie throughout her childhood in turn of the century Brooklyn, living in the poverty that was pervasive for immigrant families. Unflinching and honest, yet respectful and never vulgar, this book tackles subjects I'm sure were uncomfortable to its contemporary audience: sex, alcoholism, poverty and prejudice. The voices are plain and real and compelling. I honestly looked forward to picking it up every evening and was sad when the last page turned. Beautiful, amazing, lovely.

In my last post I mentioned that I was going to read a book called "Image of Josephine" by Booth Tarkington. I was excited because who wouldn't want to read something by an author with such a FABULOUS name? I mean, really, Booth Tarkington? That sounds so old Hollywood, so morning talk show host that no matter how crap the book ended up, one just has to check it out. So I did.

The plot is of a young soldier, sent home from the front to recuperate as, get this, an assistant curator in an art museum. Apparently, his doctor thought it to be a place where he would experience quiet and stable work and, thus, be healed from whatever awful experience he had in battle. He shows up to the museum and gets to work. He meets the staff, including his supervisor, a lovely and intelligent woman named Helena Jyre. He also meets a royal beeatch, Josephine Oaklin, the granddaughter of the museum's founder. Oaklin is en fuego most of the time because she feels that no one on the museum staff is qualified to do anything because, while they are educated in the subject, they do not understand ART. And she does. Better than anyone. Ever. Nyah, nyah, nyah. She rages and taunts and makes intentional efforts to thwart anyone's work that does not align perfectly with her vision. She is manipulative and nasty and just plain mean. The soldier finds out that she is distantly related to the queen bee and ends up in her plot to get her own way, no matter what.

Basically, this book read like the plot of a movie, complete with a twist ending and well placed soliloquies about the nature of ART. Perfect for a book by a guy named Booth Tarkington. I should probably start working on the screenplay. Cameron Diaz should play Josephine Oaklin. She could pull off the self-righteous shrew role pretty darn well. Wait, oh crap, she has already done this role in "Bad Teacher". Would hate to typecast the girl.

During World War II, the British Fourteenth Army and the 1st Air Commando Group of the United States Air Force joined to fight the Japanese Army in what was called the Burma Campaign. This unit was established in response to President Franklin D. Roosevelt's 1943 introduction to Brigadier Orde Wingate's vision of what could be done in Burma with proper air support. The U.S. Air Force created the 5318th Air Unit and in March 1944, they were designated the 1st Air Commando Group. Colonels John Alison and Philip Cochran were chosen as co-commanders of the unit. This unit was only in existence for one year as it was disbanded in 1945.  The book, Road To Mandalay by Lowell Thomas is the story of that British and American collaboration. Reading this book felt like it took longer than the entire campaign.  It would be an excellent read for military history buffs and fans of the gameRisk.

I am grateful that I read this as the whole point of the "Owen Reading Project" is to get to know my grandfather better through the books he had on his shelves.  Really, though, when I saw the title, I was hoping for more of story like the old Bob Hope/Bing Crosby "On the Road" movies.  Now those were fun.

Next on the nightstand: Image of Josephine by Booth Tarkington. I'm excited simply because the author's name is Booth Tarkington. How could you go wrong with a name like that?

The Next Great Lifetime Movie

 This novel, Long Week End by Harlow Estes made its debut in 1941, long before the advent of what I like to call the Lifetime Movie genre of story.  These are stories filled with tearful drama, unimaginable tragedy and, usually, a pretty tidy ending.  Often they star Valerie Bertinelli or Nancy McKeon.  There are women done wrong, women misunderstood and women in love with the wrong man.  There is usually some kind of romance.  Or murder.  Or suicide. Or appletini's.  Sometimes there are all of the above.  This is that kind of story.

This book started out promisingly enough with a  description of the protagonist, Livvy.  On the train ride to visit her gentleman friend Ames Chelsea, and his family, for a long weekend, she self-reflects that "she had experimented wth subtlety a few times; she wouldn't again, ever; the results had been frightful."    Loved that description.  Definitely, it would be my new life motto had I ever been subtle.  It was my favorite part.  

 It was on page three.  

There were 310 pages. 

Sigh. 

They Had Trashy Novels Way Back When?

 

Next in the pile was Tides of Mont St. Michel by Roger Vercel.  Here's the summary that was printed on the inside of the front and back covers:

This is the Abbey of Mont S. Michel -- crowning glory of mediaeval architecture.  Not only a shrine, it is also a fortress set boldly on a great rock in the Atlantic Ocean.  At low tide the causeway to the French mainland ios passable; at high tide the water submerges it, and the Abbey becomes an island.  

This modern novel tells of a drama enacted within the stone walls of the incredible structure that man and nature have created here -- a drama of a man and a woman, of strong opposing forces and of lofty aspiration

The one thought I had upon finishing this book: I had no idea they used the word "slut" so liberally in 1938.
 

Opening Lines Are Tough

Now that I've gotten myself into this mess, I suppose I should get started.  I've begun working my way through Owen's Library.  I was hoping for some surprises and I've already gotten a few!  None of the books were empty shells hiding large sums of cash between the covers.   That would have been a great surprise, no?  I have, however, come across a book or two that have been pretty darn great and enjoyable reads to boot.  Surprise!  Way better surprises than those times when I catch myself in the mirror and think "Who is that old woman in my house?" and then realize that it's me.  Now there's a shocking moment.  I often need to sit down when that happens to catch my breath.

While we're on the subject of sitting down (Sally Segue, that's me!), I have had the chance to sit down with banker's box #1 and am ready to share what's inside.  Here goes:

1.  My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

   Asher Lev is a young boy, an Orthodox Jew, living with his mother and father, both of whom work for the influential rabbi of their community.  Asher is a gifted artist, seeing his world through a lens that puts him in direct opposition to his community and to his family.  As he grows to adulthood, the tension between his gift and his familiar world becomes tighter and tighter until he must make a choice between the two. 
  Did I like this book?  It was interesting.  I am glad I read it.  Is it one that I would read again?  Probably not.  There were scenes that I might go back to, but I don't think I would re-read the whole book.  Am I interested in keeping this in my library?  Not so much.  Would I recommend it?  If you read Potok's more famous works The Chosen or The Promise and enjoyed those works, then you very well might enjoy this one as well.  Incidentally, I was reading about Chaim Potok and saw that he had written a sequel to Asher Lev called The Gift of Asher Lev.  I think I might put that one on the library list.  I'm interested to see where Asher Lev ends up.

 Owen’s Library

My grandfather, Owen, was a great collector of many things.  Paintings, tools (functional and not), costume jewelry, anything that might attract large amounts of dust, people who loved him, more dusty things and books.  Granted, that is only a partial and inconclusive list, I must assume that the picture has been painted.  After his death, my amazing aunts and uncles, along with numerous cousins and my pretty great brother, began the mountainous task of cleaning out his houses.  It is taking a long time and much work, plenty of tears and even more laughter.  One of the big questions is “what to do with ALL those books?”.

I have decided to take on that task.  I don’t know what will eventually happen to the boxes and boxes  (and boxes) of books.  Will I be able to find a buyer; who buys old books these the days of Kindles and E-readers?  Will I donate them?  If that is indeed the case, who would want 30 plus bankers boxes of pre-1970 books? I can guarantee that none of these are from Oprah’s bookclub or have sparkly vampires as protagonists.  What I can say, without hesitation, is that I am going to read as many of them as I am able.  This is how I am going to honor my wonderful granddad, I am going to spend time lovingly paying attention to something he collected and valued. 

Thus I am turning my blog over, for the time being, to cataloging those books I encounter on my journey.  I expect some to be dry and dull, my grandfather was a military man and I have a relatively short attention span for minute detail.  I hope there are some that surprise me.  But most of all, I hope that I am able to spend even a little bit of every day remembering an extraordinary man by doing what I love more than most anything: reading.

                                                                                                                                                                                      
Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way by Shauna Niequist





I found this book to be a whole lot more sweet than it was bitter.  The trials that this young woman so honestly and genuinely shares are most certainly real and are most certainly painful for the author.  The lessons she derives from each of those times are insightful and innocently wise.  I found myself smiling, often, at her youth as she shared her life stories.  Being 25 and full of life to share, advice to give and stories to tell is indeed a sweet thing.

You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore 
It didn't. Strange. Funny. Vampire-y. Christopher Moore is an acquired taste, however. Kind of like vegemite. Or gin.

Here's what the author has to say about the current vampire trend. I like his style. There will be more from him later. Not necessarily about vampires though, just random awesomeness.

"Stephenie Meyer: Her vampires are sparkly, which I think we can all agree is wrong."
— Christopher Moore

I'll own it.

I was way obnoxious at Costco yesterday.

Here's what happened:

It started out as an innocent shopping trip with my friend Karen.  We were being efficient shoppers, staying to our lists and zipping down those aisles as fast as the extraordinarily heavy carts would let us.  Seriously, those carts are HEAVY! They're heavy even before you put anything in them.   Add 144 jars of peanut butter and a case of water and, shoot, you've got one heck of a job as pusher.  Olympic bobsled teams should train at Costco.

Then we got to the book aisle.

It's like the La Brea Tar Pits and just like a mastadon bogged down in the tar, I get stuck in the pit of inexpensive and Oprah recommended books.  I can't just walk on by.  Oh no, I have to stop and be more than a little obnoxious.  Hard to believe, I know, because normally I'm the picture of gentility and grace.

You might want to clean the vomit off the floor before you leave the room.  Someone might slip and fall.  I don't want to be held accountable for any injury.

Meanwhile, back at Costco, I start playing the"Read That, Didn't Read That, Won't Read That, You Should Really Read That" game.  I also like to play that game at BevMo, but substituting the word "Drink" for "Read".  It's charming.

Apparently I have a voice that carries because after one round of the game, I accrue an audience.  No, really, several people come over to our side of the gigantic table and watch which books I point too.  Then they ask my opinion.

Silly people.  They have no idea the Pandora's Box they have just opened.  The only difference are my Furies are either hard bound or paperback.  That and they don't destroy things unless you throw them but that is an entirely different post for much later.

I gladly hold court on the aisle of cheap paperbacks for a few moments while my wonderful, long suffering friend waits patiently with our basket of bread, bagels and economy sized cereal boxes.  I don't know why she puts up with me.

Clearly I need to find place to work my book suggesting magic.  Anyone want to pay me?  I'll work for cheap.  I do love those Costco hot dogs.  They're cheap.

3 Things I Realized When I Finished Reading Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell

1.  It's a very good thing that I did not major in business or any other business type concentration.  Or law.  Or medicine.  Or computer science.

2.  When it comes to success, some people are just luckier than others.  The rest of us get to buy books about the lucky ones.  Lucky us.

3.  I might feel really horrible about how unlucky I am if I had the same definition of success as the author of this book.  Good thing I don't.

I'm still working my way through Cutting for Stone (Vintage) by Abraham Verghese.  It's a very long book.  Did you know that Ethiopia has a strong Italian influence, especially in the years following World War II?  I didn't.  I learn so much from reading.