Summer Reading List: Part the First

I've been on another insane reading kick lately, to the point that I hadn't even touched a television remote for DAYS before I went away on vacation. Since then, I've only used it to click over to Lego Harry Potter on the Wii (don't judge), and the only time I see it happening in the foreseeable future is when I tune in for the Olympics (because I am a total junkie who only gets a hit every two years, so I plan to drink all of it in while I can). 

Since most of my friends are compiling their list of summer books, and I know that you're all just champing at the bit to find out what has been piquing my interest lately, without further ado, here are my current reads:
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- Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

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If someone had given me a penny for every time I declared my hatred of this book in high school, I would have been one rich lady. And if they'd taken away a penny for every time that I have declared my undying love for this book since, I would be on literary-induced welfare. About a month ago, I blew $45 over the span of a week by devouring trashy teen paranormal romance novels by the day. I loved them because they were cheap, easy and full of flashy moments. But rereading Wuthering Heights makes me feel like the mom in Bridget Jones -- after a momentary lapse in judgement involving the fancy infomercial guy, I've realized that flash and availability are no match for the substance and foundation on which my personal history is built. Plus, I would pick Heathcliff and Cathy over Christian and Ana in a cagematch, hands down.   

- Therese Raquin by Emile Zola

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My seventy-seven year old co-worker brought this in and insisted that I absolutely had to read it. At first, I put it off because really, didn't I put enough time into old European classics in college? Then she kept asking me about it, so I figured at 300 pages, it was worth a shot. Thank the Sorceress that I did, because this one is like an old-timey literary soap opera -- sex, intrigue, murder and uptight Parisians (my favorite kind!). I'm sure my fellow beach-goers on the Vineyard were impressed by the tattered paper copy of a 135-year old novel, too, so bonus smug bitch points for that.

- This Year You Write Your Novel by Walter Mosley

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I was first introduced to Walter Mosley's work during my junior year of college, when I took a course in Contemporary American Mystery Novels. At the time, I tended to equate anything termed "contemporary" with "beach read**", so I have to admit that Devil in a Blue Dress caught me completely by surprise. I found myself not only identifying with, but rooting for, protagonist Easy Rawlins, despite having virtually nothing in common with him besides our shared humanity. The ability to do this is, to me, the sign of a great author, and as such, I snatched up Mosley's short guide to fiction the moment I saw it. Jammed full of tidbits such as (and I am paraphrasing here), "don't be afraid to insult people; no one is reading this but you, and if you ever do get published, screw them if they aren't happy for you", it has yet to disappoint. 

- Writing Fiction: The Practical Guide from New York's Acclaimed Writing School by The Gotham Writers' Workshop

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If you live in a big city, chances are that you have seen those gaudy yellow "Writing Classes dot com" bins located on street corners next to your local neighborhood news. I'll admit, at the time I bought this book three years ago, I did not equate the two in any way. This actually worked to the book's advantage, because I'm pretty sure that I would not have picked it up had I known its authors were hawking their wares to every Tom, Dick and Harry on the corner. HOWEVER, I can admit when I'm being a judgmental jackass, and this is one of those times. This handy guide is a fabulous resource for those who want to break into writing fiction, but are overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the endeavor and are seeking a place to start. Reminiscent of an intro-level college creative writing class, covering both fiction theory and construct, each chapter also has prompts to get you started and to help translate your thoughts to the page.
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For now, that's it. I'm almost finished with both Wuthering Heights and Therese Raquin, and while I have a strong urge to re-read some other classics (most of which are free on e-readers), there are a number of other, more contemporary reads currently waiting for me on my Nook. In particular, I'm looking forward to Heart of the Matter by Emily Giffen and American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld, per my Twitter followers' suggestions, and I swear one of these days I'm going to get back into Game of Thrones (I've been on page 150 of A Clash of Kings for the past three months).

In the meantime, if you've read anything good lately, feel free to leave it in the comments so that everyone can rack up their book budget for the summer!

**Despite this comment, I don't want anyone to get the idea that I'm some kind of book snob in any way. As I've said before, I am actually a big fan of fiction of all varieties, including, but not limited to, so-called "chick lit" and mass-market paperback mysteries. I've read and enjoyed everything from the Shopaholic Series to the Fifty trilogy to Twilight (ok, maybe when I say "enjoyed" the latter I mean, "enjoyed ridiculing", but that's irrelevant). I'm a proponent of the idea that reading is reading, no matter the source material, and that is something that I very strongly promote. So, if you have any recommendations for must-read books that might or might not be considered, "beach trash", send 'em my way!

All For the Nook-y

I'm feeling like total, utter crap today. Which I suppose is an improvement of sorts, as I learned yesterday that the chest pain I've been secretly suspecting is the harbinger of an impending heart attack is actually "acute chest wall pain" brought on by... wait for it... upper body exercise. Suddenly, a little winter cold doesn't seem so bad! The sniffles still suck, though. I'd rather be at home, snuggled up with my fave chicken soup granules (#9), a snuggie and a good book.

Which brings me to my next point. You might have caught it in this post, but Andrew gave me a Nook for Christmas. Despite my assertion that these little electronic devices are the harbinger of doom for the world of print publishing, I have found myself loving mine. Probably similar to the way that I will one day feel about children, but I digress. I do, however, find myself annoyed that I'm suddenly spending so much money on books, particularly when I have two overflowing bookcases with at least an entire shelf's worth of tomes I have yet to read. Back in November, I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't buy any new books until I'd finished reading the ever-growing stack currently serving as a dust bunny brothel, but then this fancy little gadget came waltzing into my life and really, how could I resist?

Heineken green really suits my deathly pallor, no?

Miserly tendencies aside, I find it equally irritating that I've recently read two tales that I want to share with my friends (The Night Circus and Divergent), but since they all have Kindles and I have a Nook, I can't. Barnes and Noble and Amazon utilize two different platform formats for their eBooks, so it's not possible to share your purchases with people outside of your device. Similarly, not all books that you buy feature the "Lend It!" function, so even if I could share with my Amazonian friends, I might not be able to.

WTF, Barnes and Noble?! I understand your business plan and all, but could you kindly stop infringing upon my right to share my purchased literature with other bibliophiles? I'm not the one shelling out $3.99 for copies of mail-order bootlegged books from Amazon; I paid my dues. Let me share my books, damn it!

Of course, for every irritating con, there is an equally laudable pro. I love that I didn't have to lug all 1500 pages of Gone With the Wind (5 stars; worth the hype) around on the T with me anymore; I bought the Nook version and delighted each and every time that I whipped out my slick little eReader: "No, sir; no backaches for me!" I get to make snarky comments in my head about the "poor, unfortunate" paper-copy readers on park benches and at Starbucks counters. Angry Birds has made insufferable conference calls a thing of the past, and I can read any book for free for an hour a day at any Barnes and Noble store. As for my tendency to bend corners and break bindings as reminders of well-loved phrases and/or plot development? A thing of the past, my friend -- the Nook has a bookmark feature and even lets me make important notes such as, "interesting placement of color -- perhaps blue foreshadow?" and, "Love the sentence construction! So delicate!" (I'm a nerd; get over it).

And so, despite my hesitancy (read: need to be dragged kicking and screaming) to abandon the print publishing industry and embrace the 21st century, I must confess that my Nook is a pretty nifty gadget. I'm sure that in time, a lot of the little negatives will go away; Andrew and I have talked about how we suspect B&N will one day begin to offer some kind of deal where if you buy the eBook, you will be able to purchase the paper copy at a steep discount. There have also been murmurings of a universal eBook format afoot, which would make me really happy. Plus, truth be told, if I really love a book, I'm going to buy the hard copy anyway, because a little back-lit electronic box just won't cut it when I'm curled up on the couch, a box of tissues by my side and Gilmore Girls reruns on tv.

It's just not in my nature.

Are you down with the eReader trend? Kindle or Nook? If any of you have Nooks and wanna be friends, let me know!

PS - Congrats to my brother Brendan and his girlfriend, who welcomed their baby girl to the world yesterday! Auntie Caitie loves you all! And good luck to his twin brother Brian (my other brother) and his girlfriend, who will be welcoming their baby girl to the world tomorrow! 

PPS - I'm convinced I am descended from rabbits.

When in Doubt, Book It

It's nice, every so often, to emerge from the depths of Grant Hell work and be able to say hello to you guys again! I wish I had a record of how many times I've said, "whoa... must remember to blog about that!" over the past two weeks or so, because I think whoever came up with the phrase, "out of sight, out of mind" is full of bs. I never forget about you guys!

However, as Melissa pointed out yesterday, there's something inherently more stressful about "I have to get this shit done so people can get their paychecks and feed their children/cats/selves!" than there is about "omg! guyz! My blogging schedule (or lack thereof?) is totes stressin' me out!". And so blogging has taken a backseat for the past few weeks, because I prefer another method of stress relief when I find time to come up for air.

Basically, all I've been doing lately is reading in my spare time. It's the single best escape from life's insanity that I've ever found; I got away from my crazy family by doing it at age 3 and I avoid the stress of work by doing it at 26. I'm actually convinced that part of the reason I managed NOT to lose my shit during my breakdown year and drop out of college is because I was forced to take a large chunk of my day and devote it specifically to the task of reading. Some of it was monotonous (Dracula), some was hilarious (Shamela), some game-changers (On the Road, Uncle Tom's Cabin) and some had the opposite effect than expected (loved Hope Leslie and finally, the third time, Wuthering Heights; hated Native Speaker and Dog Soldiers). All were pivotal in helping me keep my sanity during a time that otherwise would have crushed my soul.

My family has always joked that for someone with a degree in English Literature and a concentration in Victorian and Gothic canon, I read more trashy fluffy material than anyone they've ever met. I don't know about anyone else, but I seem to do my "pleasure reading" in spurts. In the past two months, I've read Catching Fire, Mockingjay, Something Borrowed, Something Blue, Baby Proof, Love the One You're With, Skylight Confessions, If You Were Here, My Fair Lazy, Bossypants, half of My Life in France (love it but misplaced it) and half of The Almost Moon (hate it and threw it across the room misplaced it).

Not exactly Bronte or Austin, but entertaining and it gets the job done.

Lest you worry that I only read chick lit and young adult fare, have no fear -- while rooting around everywhere to find my copy of Voyager, the third book in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, and loudly voicing my frustration that I "had nothing to read" (from the girl whose living room is beginning to look like an episode of Hoarders: Barnes and Noble Edition), Andrew piped up that I could borrow one of the books he had bought on our last fro yo Brooline Booksmith stop: Game of Thrones.

He hadn't even read it yet, but I had dibbsed it mere seconds after he bought it, so I was pumped. We haven't seen the show (holla to no cable/internet!), so it was all totally new to me, but I could. not. put. it. down. I finished it yesterday and am gleefully plotting my Targaryon-style takeover of my parents' tv and $200 cable package for 48 hours of GoT marathon viewing. Thankfully, I also found Voyager about two days after I embarked on the madness of GoT, and am now happily engrossed in Jamie that.

If you're keeping score, that means I've been hauling around a collective 2,000 pages of fantasy fiction in my purse.

I might be a nerd.



One day, in my own fantasy world where funding has been preserved for all (no progress reports required), I swear I am going to get around to posting those book reviews I promised awhile ago. In the meantime, here's a hint regarding what one of those reviews might be about:

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I seriously can't wait.

Read any good books lately? Do tell!
I'm always on the lookout for recommendations!