Five Things Make a Post: It Came from the TBR!

May 15, 2013 by 15 Comments

Like most avid readers, I have a To Be Read pile. Oh, do I ever. Here, have a picture of part of it:

TBR, 5/15/13

TBR, 5/15/13

This is, of course, not all of it. There’s also an electronic component as well as books stashed in other bookcases throughout the apartment.

So what are the top five books on my TBR? Not necessarily the five I’ll get to first–I am too scattered to make a reading plan and stick with it when I’m reading for fun–but the five I’m most looking forward to reading eventually? In no particular order…

Shattered Pillars, Elizabeth Bear. This is the second book in Bear’s epic fantasy set, more or less, in a fantastic cognate of Central Asia. There are horses and magic and terrible sacrifices and I really loved the first book. There’s something about Bear’s writing which really connects with me and she seems to be getting better with each new book that she writes.

Grail of the Summer Stars, Freda Warrington. The third book in the Aetherial Tales trilogy, this is just the kind of urban fantasy I love. Not the new definition where there’s a kick-butt woman in leather pants, but the earlier kind typified by the writing of Charles de Lint and Emma Bull. I suspect that this sort of thing is called contemporary fantasy and I also suspect that it doesn’t sell particularly well these days which is why there’s not a whole lot of it.

Untamed, Anna Cowan. Holy crap has there ever been a lot of discussion about this book in Romancelandia. People seem to either love it (with caveats) or loathe it (I have not read any of these reviews, so really don’t know what they say apart from the general opinion). From what I can gather, there are some serious issues with Cowan’s interpretation of gender roles in the period as well as with her understanding of the Corn Laws–and since my knowledge of the period is gleaned mainly from other romance novels, I suspect that I will fall into the love it (with caveats) crowd.  I am planning on reviewing it here sometime soon, so I’ll be sure to let everyone know what I think. One of the reasons I’m so excited to read this particular book is that, from where I am in a not-having-read-it-yet perspective, Cowan appears to be pushing at the boundaries of what romance is and even if her attempt isn’t wholly successful, she gets points from me going in.

Annie Sullivan and the Trials of Helen Keller, Joseph Lambert. I can’t remember where I heard about this one, but I’ve had a fascination with Keller and Sullivan for many years and I am interested to see how Lambert translates Keller’s disabilities into graphic novel format. Based on what I’ve read about this, though, it doesn’t talk about Keller’s social activism and perhaps centers Sullivan’s story over Keller’s. I also find the title problematic–Keller was so much more than just a trial. But nonetheless, I am looking forward to reading this.

The Steerswoman’s Road, Rosemary Kirstein. I have heard so many good things about these books from lots of different people. And I have started reading this volume but it’s been so long since I’ve picked it up I’m going to have to start over again. I am, however, totally happy that there will be e-book editions of these soon! Maybe I’ll throw this in my bag for my Memorial Day weekend trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains (I’m taking a train–I’ll have plenty of time for reading).

What’s in your To Be Read pile? Or what are you looking forward to reading? Let us enable each other!

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A Week in Winter, Maeve Binchy

March 7, 2013 by Leave a Comment
A Week in Winter, Maeve Binchy

A Week in Winter, Maeve Binchy

When Maeve Binchy passed away last summer, she’d just completed work on her next manuscript, and her publisher has polished it up and released it.  Titled A Week in Winter, it’s a fitting swan song for one of my favorite writers, showing her usual deft touch for storytelling and creating characters you come to understand and care about as they move through life in contemporary Ireland.

A Week in Winter is set primarily in Stoneybridge on the unforgiving western coast of Ireland, although some of the action takes place in Dublin or other areas.  Binchy tends to employ one of two narrative structures to her novels; the one she uses here is typical when she’s focusing on a place that all the characters have in common—in this case, that place is Stone House, a run-down old house in Stoneybridge that the central character, Chicky Starr, buys from its elderly owner and begins to convert into a B&B.  Each subsequent chapter after we are introduced to Stoneybridge and Chicky focuses on a single character and that character’s relationship to Stone House.

Stoneybridge is one of those places that seems ordinary: a small town on the western coast, windswept, seemingly existing despite itself.  There are small farms, a pub or two, a few big houses, a knitting factory.  What there isn’t: a lot of opportunity for young people, who typically take off for Dublin or England as soon as they can escape.  Such was the case with Chicky, who meets Walter Starr by chance while she’s working at the knitting factory and ends up going to New York with him despite the pleas from her parents and the advice of the townspeople.  Naturally Walter leaves her eventually, but not before she’s written countless letters home describing a fictitious lifestyle and marriage.  He also leaves her with little money.  Chicky moves into a boarding house in exchange for working for the owner and learns a great deal—and saves enough money—to eventually go home.  There she buys Stone House from Miss Queenie, giving her a life tenancy, and begins the long conversion process of restoring the house to its former glamour and making it into a B&B.

After Chicky’s story is told, Binchy moves on to others whose lives are touched by the house: her niece Orla, who is tired of life in London and refuses to settle into a loveless marriage; Rigger, the son of Chicky’s childhood friend, who needs a place to live and work after getting in trouble with the law; and eventually, the individual stories of those who book in for the opening week—one week in Winter—of Stone House.  Each person has a chapter devoted to their story, and each chapter ties back to Stone House, to Chicky or Rigger or Orla.  Together, they make up the narrative of a place and the people who are touched by it.

All of this is done with Binchy’s usual charm, wit, and deprecating, wry glances at humanity.  Some of the characters’ stories will be familiar, such as Winnie’s—she intends to take her current boyfriend to Stone House for a holiday, only to be landed with his overbearing, doting mother instead when he has a conflict—or Anders, whose cold, emotionless father expects him to run his accounting business when all he really wants to do is be a musician.  Of all the guests, no one’s story, however, is as interesting as Miss Howe’s.

Miss Howe is a headmistress on the brink of retirement who is given a holiday at Stone House as a parting gift from her staff.  An intensely private person, Miss Howe knows little about her colleagues and they know even less about her personal life.  What they do know is that she is rigid and censorious, and she’s nicknamed Her Own Worst Enemy, a name that proves to be completely justified as her story unfolds.  Miss Howe is not a nice person, or even an admirable one, and it’s extremely difficult to feel any sympathy for her bitter loneliness since she’s one of those people who need to tear others down in order to boost their own self-worth.  Binchy’s novels rarely contain characters with no redeeming qualities or at least a history that allows the reader to feel some sympathy.  Miss Howe is a notable exception to this standard, and the novel is stronger for her inclusion.

This isn’t Binchy’s best work—I’d call it “above average”.  But even above average Binchy will warm you up on a chilly day and possibly restore your faith in people.  And since that’s what I look for when I pick up one of her books, I was more than satisfied with this one.

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Why Literature Matters In 2013

January 29, 2013 by 20 Comments
Image from Grammarly at Facebook

Image from Grammarly at Facebook

I was recently reading an interview with actor Hugh Bonneville (Downton Abbey) in which he was asked about New Year’s resolutions, and I found his reply interesting:

“I’ve had the same resolutions for about 20 years, which is to read The Complete Works of Charles Dickens, and I’m only on about book No. 3.  I’m a terrible reader, which is a great shame because literature is the lifeblood of everything, really, in terms of inspiration and nourishment of the soul.”

I have to admit I’ve had a similar resolution over the years—not to read Dickens, who is not my favorite author by a long shot—but to read my way through Dante.  I’ve never made it, even though I have good translations.  They sit on a shelf and mock me annually.  Someday.

But more to the point of this post, what struck me about that quote was Bonneville’s assertion that literature “is the lifeblood of everything, really, in terms of inspiration and nourishment of the soul.”

I have the dreaded B.A. in English.  And even 30 years ago, people asked “But what will you do with it?”  The answer back then was “anything I want.”  And I have done a lot of interesting things: I’ve taught, I’ve worked as a technical writer, I’ve done a little (very little) ad writing and copy editing.  I’ve written countless resumes for people, published poems, written two unpublished novels (just to see if I could, you know) and been paid to give my opinions on books.  And that’s just me. I know plenty of people with the same degree who do a variety of fascinating jobs—several of them own very successful businesses, for example, many are active in politics, and one develops and writes video games.  My co-conspirator here wrangles spreadsheets for her day job.  Another friend has an executive position in a bank.  A young woman I know is now teaching English at a Chinese school, and now that her Mandarin has improved significantly, she and her husband also run a small translating business on the side.  Really, the possibilities are endless.

So when people want to know if there’s really any value to studying literature these days, my kneejerk response is “of course.”  You learn things as an English major that may not be quite the same as, say, what you’d learn in an engineering class, but you come out with quite a useful little toolkit.  Studying literature teaches you about people, for one thing—you learn how to analyze motivations and fears and hopes.  You also learn to think critically, to connect-the-dots, to figure things out.  You learn how to research, to argue, to defend your thoughts, to read between the lines, to synthesize information. You also write a lot of papers when you study literature—a LOT of papers—so you also learn how to write effectively and coherently, which is a most useful skill.  Altogether, you come out knowing a lot about Dickens and Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf’s writing, sure, but you know way more than that.

You have a fundamental grasp of the human experience through the ages.  Literature spans so many other disciplines–the social sciences, history, philosophy, theology, etc.—that you come out prepared for anything life throws at you.  And that includes learning any special skill that you might need in a job, which is important because people will insist on putting some sort of valuation on a degree.  So let’s do that.  Literature–and I’d argue, the humanities in general–is a valuable field of study that does provide you with a skill set that translates into earning a living.  Because you don’t just learn about books, you learn how to research, to synthesize, to present an effective argument, to think.  And if you know how to think, you are a few steps from being able to do almost anything (I feel compelled to qualify that statement with “almost” because truthfully, you probably won’t know how to build a race car or a nuclear reactor, although you’d have the skills to try and figure it out if you were so inclined).

We live in a world now that is vastly different from the one I was launched into 30 years ago when I graduated with my BA in English.  Back then, personal computers were vastly expensive and rarely owned by the average person, CDs were a year or two away from being common, and digital media was completely unheard of–TVs were still analog, and people still wrote actual handwritten letters instead of logging into Facebook or streaming their favorite programs on Netflix.  Research was not a mouse click away, but required hours spent in libraries with books and microfilm.  But we have all this lovely technology today precisely because people still need to think creatively.  And it will continue to evolve for precisely that reason.

There’s a reason colleges and universities require general education courses across a wide variety of disciplines.  Being exposed to other areas of study outside one’s own declared field of interests enhances learning.  When I taught, I had engineering students who actually resented being forced to take a course in technical writing by their departments.  They seemed to think they’d have no use for such a thing.  I had science majors who didn’t understand why they were asked to take a basic literature course—what does MacBeth or Animal Farm have to do Chemistry or Biology, they’d argue?

I probably don’t need to point out that my answer to that question was “everything.”  But I always made them figure it out.  That was pretty much the whole point, after all.

I know I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but I think that studying literature is even more valuable today than ever.  We live in a world where people change jobs all the time, where versatility is required.  We also live in a world where advances in technology and science happen so rapidly that processing those developments requires a nimble mind capable of understanding such things.  And not to get all political on you, but we also live in a society where, I would argue, the ability to think and reason for oneself is vital—otherwise, our personal philosophies become parroted talking points, not strongly held convictions.

And finally, it was my personal pleasure to introduce works of fiction to people who’d seldom read a book prior to taking my literature class.  Many of them went on to investigate other works by an author who’d struck a chord with them, and I had more than one 18 year old say, “I never realized that books had all these ideas in them!”  Indeed they do—from Shakespeare to Stephen King to romance novels and mystery fiction, they do indeed have ideas in them that make the reader think, to consider, to discard or to keep.  Turning someone into a lifelong reader was one of the greatest pleasures I ever got when teaching, because I knew I was also turning them into a lifelong thinker.  And honestly, as long as we have people who can think, we’ll be okay.

Filed Under: General, Opinion Tagged With: ,

Wherein Donna Is Dragged Into The 21st Century.

January 17, 2013 by 12 Comments

So here’s the thing: I happily confess that I am a technological Luddite.  I don’t like change. I don’t have a smartphone—well, I do, kind of (it’s sort of an average intelligence phone, really) but aside from texting now and then and using it for what a phone was actually invented for—talking to other people—it mostly sits silently somewhere near me.  I never use it to access the internet, although it’s capable of that if I want to pay for it, but I don’t.  I have a computer for that.  I don’t own an iPod (to be fair, I’d likely break that).  I am also perfectly content to function well behind the times–no streaming Netflix for me, or downloading apps.  I’m telling you all of this to offer some sort of explanation for why it’s taken me this long to acquire an e-reader.

I should also explain up front that I still wouldn’t have one if my co-blogger here hadn’t offered to sell me her old Kindle for a reasonable price.  I am also, I admit, thrifty.  What some people view as necessities I view as luxuries.  I really can’t help it, and I’m sure there’s some pathological reason for it.  But mostly it’s that for years now I couldn’t bring myself to spend that much money on something I wasn’t sure I’d even like.  And that I was, honestly, kind of afraid of because things like that are so alien to me, really.  Plus there’s the idea of spending a lot of money on something I realistically might not be able to figure out how to use (laugh if you will, but to me, technology is like magic.  I have no idea how my computer works, for example.  I push a button every morning and confidently expect it to turn on.  If it doesn’t, I panic.  I also have no idea how electricity works, and I suspect I’m happier not knowing these things). I am also a bit of a klutz, so there was the distinct possiblity that I’d break something I paid a lot of money for and be unhappy in several different ways.  Natalie has assured me for years, however, that I would be able to cope with a Kindle and encouraged me.  So I finally relented.

Yes.  I have lost my Kindle Virginity.

When it arrived, I took it out of the packaging and eyeballed it like a rattlesnake.  I figured out how to wake it up fairly quickly, and paged through the user’s guide, mainly to figure out what all the buttons were for and how to set it up with my Amazon account.  Then I put it to sleep, put it in its case, and picked up the paperback I was rereading.  I’d dipped my toe into the lake, but I wasn’t up to wading into it just yet.

Later, my husband convinced me to buy a book.  “Go ahead, just one,” he encouraged.  So I figured out how to do that and pre-ordered the new Peter Robinson mystery (review forthcoming!).  The next morning, it was magically there.  Natalie gifted me with the Courtney Milan trilogy she’s been raving about here, and I clicked the link and watched them magically appear.

And I have to admit that it was cool.  And easy.  I can see it being a problem, though.  Because it was too easy to just buy a book and watch it appear magically on my Kindle.  I know me.  “Oh, I want to read this” and Poof!  Magic. And a ginormous credit card bill.  Books are like crack to me, and my willpower when I have access to them and to a credit card is going to take a pretty severe beating, I suspect.  It’s one of the reasons why I’m glad the nearest bookstore to me is half an hour away.  Amazon, on the other hand, is not–and it has a lot to answer for in terms of my monthly bills.

Anyway.  For three days I kept looking at it now and then.  I’d wake it up, look at the Robinson book sitting there, begging to be read, and put it back to sleep in its case.  Yes.  I was afraid of it–and afraid that I’d hate it and I spent money on this thing and this book and I’m going to hate it so much and I’ll have to go buy another copy of the book and I wasted all this money and OMG I am SO frigging neurotic.  In my mind, if I never used it, I’d never know I hated it, if I did hate it.  And so forth.  My husband kept saying “have you started yet?” and I’d just sadly shake my head, but I knew eventually I was going to have deal with my stupid nuttiness, so late last week I finally got over myself, woke up the Kindle, and started to actually read on it.

And miraculously, I did not hate it.  I actually knew I probably wouldn’t hate it, but my mind works in ways I can’t explain and, like electricity, I really think I’m better off not understanding how it works.  Ignorance is bliss and all that. So I did like it.  I found navigating things easier than I expected.  I figured out how to make collections on it.  How to bookmark, highlight, all that stuff–really, it was made for a techno-idiot like me.  I have no idea what the hell I was so afraid of.  I feel stupid.

For me, there are plusses and minuses.  On the plus side, I can adjust the font to a size that suits me.  My eyesight is not good and is getting worse as time goes on.  Between the ability to adjust the font and the good quality of the contrast on the screen, I found actually reading from the screen to be much easier than from a book, and I appreciated for the first time just how much I was struggling with the smaller print in paperbacks.  I  managed to finish a 400+ page book much faster than I have been able to recently, which I attribute to being able to read it more easily.  Another plus is that I will no longer have to wait until a.) I can get to a bookstore, b.) I can get to the library (and hope they have it), and c.) for Amazon to mail it.  Magic.  Plus, my library does have an e-book borrowing program that I intend to investigate just as soon as I have some free time and which I fully intend to take advantage of.

I have mixed feelings about other things, though.  For one thing, the book I read did not come with page numbers, and I was surprised at how disconcerting I found that.  And I’m a little OCD about things, and so my brain kept looking at that bar that graphs the percentage of the book you’ve read and trying to do the math to turn it into a page number.  Tragically, math is not one of my strengths.  I can barely add and subtract.  I suppose I could look at this as an opportunity to improve my calculating skills, but honestly I’d rather have the page numbers.  Because not only do I have to figure out that if I’m 25% of the way through a 412 page book that that equals 103 pages, I then have to subtract 103 from 412 to figure out how many more pages I have left to enjoy, approximately.  I say approximately because I am unlikely to actually get that number right because–bad at math.  I can live with a ballpark figure, but frankly, that’s more math than I really want to be doing in my head.  It takes time away from actually reading the book.  Seriously, I am told that not all books lack page numbers in the Kindle editions, and it’s hardly a deal breaker, but for me, it was annoying.  I’m also accepting of the fact that not everyone is as neurotic about these things as I am and is therefore not likely to be so bothered by something like that.

I also found it a little awkward to hold, initially.  I suppose it really depends on one’s Usual Book Grasp for reading.  My personal grasp involves resting the book against the back of my hand with my thumb across the center along the bottom of the pages to hold them open.  My Kindle has a keyboard, and I kept accidentally sticking my thumb on the “home” button or the space bar.  It took me a while to find a comfortable Kindle Hold (I’d tell you how long it took in page numbers, but I’d have to do more math, sorry), and even then I kept shifting it around.  Somewhere around 80% in (83 pages left to enjoy!) I finally stopped fidgeting with it.  But I was always aware that while I was reading a book, I was not actually holding a book, but a book delivery system.  Which is fine.  I’m not that neurotic.  Maybe.

I’d also tell you what I think of putting an electronic device to sleep (I felt like I should tuck it up with a warm blankey and a soft toy) and waking it up (“Kindle, Kiiiiindle, wake up Kindle…”) but again, you really don’t need to know just how neurotic I am.  I’ve already given you a good idea of that.

I will say this: I’m probably always going to prefer physical books to the Kindle.  There is an irreplaceable tactile experience involved with a well-worn and well-loved paperback, and to me, there is little more exciting than the smell of a brand new book. I know it’s just me, really.  And I will use this, a lot, honestly.  It’s convenient, easy to operate, and easy to read. But as an exclusive method for reading, for me, it’s just not going to work, because it’s really not the same experience for me.

That’s not to say it’s a bad one.  It’s just a different experience.  And likely it will be good for me too.  I mean, I can’t stay la-la-ing away in 1985 forever, no matter how much I’d like to.

Filed Under: General, Opinion Tagged With: , ,

Looking Forward: 2013

January 1, 2013 by 3 Comments
Watching the Dark, the 20th Alan Banks novel

Watching the Dark, the 20th Alan Banks novel

If you’re anything like me where books are concerned, then the start of a new year brings all sorts of excitement because it means potential new offerings from my favorite authors. Always a squee-worthy thought for me.

So here’s a (very) brief list of what I’m looking forward to in 2013:

Proof of Guilt, the 15th Ian Rutledge novel

Proof of Guilt, the 15th Ian Rutledge novel

• January 8th brings the latest Peter Robinson entry in his long-running Alan Banks series, Watching the Dark.
• January 29th will find me devouring Proof of Guilt, the latest installment in Charles Todd’s Ian Rutledge series.

Those two things alone would make Donna a happy girl. But also on January 29th, I will be reading that Charles Todd whilst anticipating Out of Circulation, the next installment in Miranda James’ charming Cat in the Stacks series, which also has the 29th as a release date. And I will get to follow that up with more catly goodness in the form of Sofie Kelly’s latest, Cat Trick, which comes out the very next week (And in the Yay! Department, Kelly has another title coming out in early October).

Dearie

Dearie

And that’s just for the first month. I really can’t wait to see what the rest of 2013 brings. Anything in particular that you’re looking forward to? Hoping for? Me, I am hearing that that Pioneer Girl annotation will be out sometime this summer, and I am hoping that James Kaplan is going to get around to the second volume in his Sinatra biography. And I have to get caught up on a few other things. I have yet to read Elfhome, Wen Spencer’s latest entry in her Tinker series (a personal favorite, especially since it’s set in my old hometown of Pittsburgh), or Tina Connolly’s Ironskin, which has been on my to-read list for a bit now. And I so want to read Dearie, which I have heard good things about. As Julia Child is one of my idols, that’s definitely been on my must-read list for a while. I am soooo far behind.

Wishing you a 2013 filled with peace and happiness and, of course, mountains of excellent books!

 

Filed Under: Fantasy, General, Mystery, Non-fiction Tagged With: , , , , ,
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