first book of the year...

I hadn't expected it to take me a week and a half to finish my first book of the year, but then again, I guess I'm not really surprised either. As usual, I just have too many books going at once. Anyway, I am so very pleased that Saffy's Angel by Hilary McKay was the first book I finished...I'm pretending I believe in "signs" and this is a sure sign of a wonderful year of reading ahead. It also qualifies as my first read for Ana's and Iris's Long-Awaited Reads Month. (Or in my case, Long-Awaited Reads that are All Ana's Fault Month.) :D

Okay, Saffy's Angel. *hugs book tenderly and fiercely all at the same time*

It is the story of the Casson family, a family who most definitely lives life on their own terms. I'm not sure if anyone else would agree with this comparison, but I was strongly reminded of Francesca Lia Block's writing. Or really, I guess I mean her characters, at least from the Weetzie Bat books. Both Block's and McKay's characters have this utterly refreshing quality to them--they are quirky and odd, they are unique and delightful, they are so positively themselves. And I love them to pieces.

Eve and Bill, parents, artists. Caddy, the oldest daughter, loves animals, believes she will never pass any exam she ever takes, and is quite infatuated with her driving instructor. Saffy, next oldest daughter, feels somewhat out of place and lonely. Indigo, next oldest and the only boy in the family, an inventive cook, loves "his pack" (aka his sisters) fiercely, and works hard to conquer his fears. And Rose, the youngest daughter, bold, fearless, and a budding artist herself.

At the beginning of the book, Saffy discovers that Eve is not her "real" mother, but her aunt, and her siblings are her cousins. (Her mother died when she was just three, and her grandfather brought her from Italy to come live with the Cassons in England.) While she is every bit as much a sibling as any of the others in the minds of Caddy and Indigo and Rose, she finds herself feeling as if she somehow doesn't belong. The book tells the story of Saffy's search for her angel, a stone angel from her Italian garden that her grandfather left to her when she died, but no one knows where it is. But it really tells the story of Saffy's search for her place in the world, her place in the family.

This is not a heavy, soul-searching tale though. It is light and so utterly charming, it is laugh out loud funny, and it has more heart than one might imagine could be stuffed into 215 pages. Saying that I loved it feels like such an understatement.

With this book alone, I can most definitely declare Long-Awaited Reads Month a success for me! Ahhh, but so many more books still to come...

a few words on January's reads...

Theme for the month: Ana's and Iris's Long-Awaited Reads Month...and it was fabulous! I went a bit further and made it Long-Awaited Reads That Are All Ana's Fault Month. I am ridiculously happy that I did. :D (Three of the five books I read this month fit theme. The 10P.M. Question and Bad Science without question. More Baths Less Talking took a bit of rationalization, but I stand by my arguments. I made it through most of another, but didn't quite finish it before the end of the month so it will be in February's reads.)

*The Wave by Todd Strasser. Okay, so the first book of the month didn't really fall under this month's theme. But as I said when I announced my plans for themed reading months, I have to allow for school reading. And thus, this was my first book of the month (and of 2013). I'd never heard of this book before seeing it on one of those "school reading" tables at the bookstore, but when I picked it up and read the cover, I was pretty convinced that this would make a good read for Gray and I.

Ben Ross, a high school history teacher, shows his class a film about the Holocaust. Afterward, his students start asking all kinds of questions about why the German people never stood up to the Nazis and stopped the atrocities that were being committed. There were no answers that seemed satisfactory. So Ross decides to start a little experiment; he called it The Wave. And the results were both startling and frightening...

I can't believe I'd never heard of this book, but even more that I'd never heard about the real events that it was based on...it seems like something that surely would have come up in one of my many psychology or sociology classes back in school. Anyway, it was a very quick read, and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I suppose it feels slightly dated (it was published in 1981), largely because of the lack of technology, but that didn't really feel like a bad thing to me.

*More Baths Less Talking by Nick Hornby. Already blathered about it here.

*The 10pm Question by Kate De Goldi. Already talked about this one as well.

*Tomorrow, When the War Began by John Marsden. I have tried to figure out my fascination with stories like this many times, but I just can't. There is some sort of weird disconnect in my brain that allows me to love reading/viewing these fictional stories of war while at the same time crying myself to sleep at night over real wars that seem so completely senseless. It's a contradiction that I just can't seem to tease out.

Anyway, the book. Set in Australia, it's the story of a group of teens who due to a wilderness camping trip miraculously avoid capture during an invasion of the country by an unnamed country. When they arrive home from their camping trip, they're met with scenes that boggle their imaginations. They grasp at innocuous explanations for as long as their minds will allow them, before eventually facing what must surely be the true facts. Then the tougher struggles begin...what will their consciences allow them to do, what can they realistically in practical terms do, what can they even hope for.

I realize that the way I described the story makes it all sound rather implausible, but trust me, Marsden does a wonderful job at filling in all the blanks. He creates an atmosphere that feels very real indeed, and he brings the characters, faults and all, to life in vivid color. I read this book aloud to Max. I've rarely had his attention quite so captured during a book as with this one. It is damn adrenaline-pumping at times. We started book two of the series, The Dead of the Night, the evening after finishing the first. And I know that I need to get my hands on the third to have it ready for when we finish the second.

*Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. You know those books that come along every once in a blue moon, books that you just want to force onto everyone you know and then onto everyone you don't know, too. Yep, this is one of those books. Sad thing is, I lack the communication skills to solidly convey to you why you should read this book. (Seriously, I have sat here trying to write about this book for over an hour now, and I just can't do this book justice.) I'm going to take the easy way out and tell you that you should just go read Ana's review; it was she who introduced me to this book to start with.

Let me just say that this book is not in the slightest bit hard to comprehend. It is most definitely not dry; in fact, Ben Goldacre is actually quite the funny guy. And I can pretty much guarantee that you will walk away from it feeling much more confident in your ability to avoid bamboozlement by those who simply throw around the language of science without the evidence to back it up.

Okay, like I said--go read Ana's review.

The 10 p.m. Question...completely random thoughts

I think I just finished my favorite read of 2013. I know, pretty bold statement, huh? But this is just one of those rare books that burrowed its way into my heart and took up permanent residence there.

The thing is, I don't know how to talk about it. The way any of us react to any book on any particular day is extremely personal. Now no one is ever going to accuse me of being "objective" when it comes to talking about books--it's not something I even care to aspire to. But you know how some books are so personal that there is no extracting them from your own life? Tender Morsels was one of those books. The 10 p.m. Question is another.

Okay, a few of the easy things...I loved the name of the pets, particularly Fat Controller...I loved that it is set in New Zealand...I loved the mentions of all the mouth-watering baking Frankie's mom does...I love the Aunties (OMG--I loved the Aunties!)...I loved that it was about ordinary life. Ahhh, but there is where we cross the line into difficult to talk about...

The book focuses on Frankie, a 12-year-old boy, with definite anxiety issues. It focuses on his wonderful, quirky, oh-so-realistic family and on the myriad relationships involved. It focuses on his friends, one long-time (Gigs) and one new (Sydney). I said "oh-so-realistic" in describing his family...which isn't the same as saying your stereotypical normal family. See, Frankie's mom hasn't left the house in 9 years. No one talks about it. Well, except his new friend Sydney, who talks about everything.

Sydney was an insatiable questioner; a steady stream issued from her mouth the entire time Frankie was with her. She had a bottomless bag of queries about everything, and everyone--Frankie, Gigs, Ma, Uncle George, the cat, the dog, the people next door... She was indecently curious. She seemed quite unrestrained in the way other people were, by delicacy or a sense of personal privacy, or the idea that it was perhaps none of her business. Apparently most things were her business.

Oh crap. I'm getting nowhere here. Okay, let me say this. This book is, in my opinion, an incredibly realistic look at what anxiety feels like. Here's possibly too-much-personal information. I have a 12-year-old son with generalized anxiety disorder. He used to have selective mutism as well. I have a daughter with anxiety issues, as well as OCD. And I have some pretty major problems with anxiety myself. I *can* leave my house, but unless Rich is with me or I absolutely *have* to, I choose not to. (The fact that we had to sell our van, and that we now have just one car, a car that I can't even drive because it's a stick shift--this is a blessing of major proportions to me. It makes Rich's life harder, and yet he gladly endures it, partially for the money savings but mostly I think because it takes so much stress off my daily life. In fact, Uncle George, Frankie's father, reminds me quite a lot of Rich.) But as I was saying, there were just so many things in this book that made me certain the author had personal connections to the hell of overwhelming anxiety herself. The way Frankie makes lists in his head to distract himself when the worrying thoughts are threatening to totally overwhelm him. The way he has relatively easier periods.

It was strange the way this happened. He'd noticed it before. One week he'd by bouncing along relatively happily, only a couple of minor problems bothering him. A week or two later, the problems would have burgeoned and multiplied until the list of matters to solve dominated his thoughts and none of his usual pleasure could give him a scrap of comfort.

And the way it at times just seemed to overwhelm him.

He wanted the manic listing to end; he wanted to extinguish the horror waves and the cold fingers around his heart. He wanted the malignly insistent thoughts to be banished forever; he just wanted it all to stop, and he wanted so very badly to sleep.

I've got to be honest...this book made me feel guilty. As hard as I, in all the ways I can, try to not let my incessant worrying affect the kiddos, I know it has to. It's unavoidable. And yet, it also made me feel okay, feel human, flawed of course, but human, even if not in the way that is largely considered "normal."

Sheesh. I'm still not getting anywhere here. How about you just go read Ana's review instead, if you haven't already. Seriously...that would be the thing to do.

And yes, this makes for my second read for the Long-Awaited Reads (That Are All Ana's Fault) Month.

More Baths Less Talking...thoughts along the way...

More Baths Less Talking by Nick Hornby. (*Not* Less Baths More Talking, which for some reason I keep thinking this collection is called.) Anyway, another collection of Hornby's columns from the Believer. I can't even express how excited I am to be starting this book!!!

*Okay, you know it's going to be a great book when you're laughing out loud just reading the Table of Contents, don't you? Btw, do most people actually read the Table of Contents? Just curious.

*OMG--this man cracks me up. I lost count of how many times he had me laughing out loud during this first essay (May 2010). I'm not sure why--maybe I've had one too many gin and tonics (though I've only had one so far), or maybe I'm just too exhausted, or maybe I just have the mindset of a stereotypical 12-year-old boy--but the bit about the records of Henry St. John's masturbation just had me rolling. And yet with all his wit and humor, he ends up making books that I can't imagine ever reading sound incredibly interesting. But yeah, still probably not reading Austerity Britain, 1945-51. However, American Rust by Philipp Meyer is being added to the wish list thanks to this first column.

*June 2010. Despite all the acclaim Patti Smith's Just Kids has received, I've really felt no real desire to read it. Yep, you guessed it--until now.

*July/August 2010. Sometimes he makes me laugh, even when I sort of feel like I really shouldn't be. :P
And this time, two more to the wish list--The Driver's Seat and A Far Cry from Kensington both by Muriel Spark, whom I've never read.

*September 2010. Wow...he didn't make me want to buy any books with this column. Of course, that could just be because he'd downloaded Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis and I couldn't get past that shuddering thought. (The one and only book I thoroughly despised from my high school reading assignments. Would I hate it as much today? I'll probably never have the stomach to find out.)

*November/December 2010. I was so excited to see that he bought Nothing to Envy by Barbara Demick this month, because it's one of the books I really want to get to this year. However, he didn't actually read this month so I didn't get to hear his thoughts. :( (But I haven't given up hope--maybe he'll read it before the end of this collection.)
As is always the case, the column itself is very entertaining...and I was happy to hear that he sort of had the same "really old classics avoidance tendency" that I do. Though you may notice, I used the past tense with Mr. Hornby and the present with myself. He's working his way past this avoidance...I can only hope that means there's still hope for me. And of course, he did get me to add another book to my wish list--not a classic, but a contemporary collections of essays called Book of Days by Emily Fox Gordon.

*January 2011. Mmmmm...well I think he convinced me that I'm correct in my reluctance to read Dickens. Of course, I'm fairly confident that steering people away from Dickens is not his intention as he is obviously a rather large fan himself. What can I say...
He did, however, get me to add The Uncoupling by Meg Wolitzer to the wish list. The concept of that one really intrigues (and horrifies!) me...a magic wind blows through this town and makes all the women stop wanting sex.

*February 2011. I squeeeed a little bit when I saw he bought Will Grayson Will Grayson. He didn't, however, read it this month. And he didn't convince to buy any of the books that he did read this go-round. I can definitely see why he made Ana want to read Let's Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste by Carl Wilson though. It sounds really good, but the fact of the matter is that I would likely never get around to actually reading it.

*March/April 2011. His facetious little pity party about the volcanic ash ruining his 53rd birthday amused me, and also reminded of the recent episode of The Fabulous Beekman Boys I watched where Brent scheduled a wedding at the farm on the weekend of Josh's 40th birthday. Yeah, I know, not relevant, but I just love it when one fun thing reminds me of another fun thing...because well, fun things are good.
Maybe more pertinent to the essay itself is this cool little blurb:

Several months later, and I have finally read one of the three, even though I wanted to read all three of them immediately. (What happened in between? Other books, is what happened. Other books, other moods, other obligations, other appetites, other reading journeys.)

Yes, yes, yes...now that is something I suspect nearly all of us can relate to!

*May 2011. Well, he certainly made me grateful that I've never felt the urge to pick up a John Updike book before!
He read Jon Ronson's The Psychopath Test, but that one was already sort of on my radar. However, he mentioned a couple other of Ronson's books, and I'm now fairly sure I'd like to give Them a go someday--as Hornby put it, it's about "extremists of all hues."

*June 2011. There was more laughter...brought on by a tidbit that I couldn't help but share with Rich. And when that happened this time, it clicked with me that that is a mark of a book I didn't waste my time reading--if there is something so amusing or so interesting or so infuriating, etc. that it makes me interrupt my darling husband's own reading to share it, well, then it was almost certainly a book worth spending my time with.

*July/August 2011. Yay! He read Nothing to Envy...and of course, I now want to read it even more.

*September 2011 and October 2011 and November/December 2011. There's honestly nothing I feel I must say about these. You're welcome.

*Oh my. It's just so sad to be finishing this collection. The enjoyment his essays bring me is immense. I think that this particular collection had me adding less books to my wish list than any of his previous books, but that in no way says anything about my enjoyment level. It is simply fun, fun, fun to read his thoughts on any book, whether or not said book interests me enough to read myself.

*****

I'm counting this for the Long-Awaited Reads (All Because of Ana) Month. Now, on the surface, this may sound a bit like cheating, but hear me out. First of all, I've been waiting a loooooong time to read this collection. Ever since I finished the last, in fact. Before I even knew there was a possibility that there would be a new collection because Hornby stopped writing the column for a time. Just because it didn't technically exist didn't mean I wasn't desperately waiting for it anyway. And secondly, it is because of Ana that I first started reading these collections in the first place. Okay, so I think I have justified its inclusion, yes?