three/seventy-five

Sometime I need a little gentle prodding, a reminder that "classic" does not equal "boring."

Bram Stoker's Dracula has been sitting on my TBR shelf since last Hallowe'en. For all my love of vampire lore and my desire to bone up on the classics, I couldn't find the time to concentrate on it until last month.

I expected it to be dry and boring, but at least it would give me the vampire basics, right?

Damn, it was good. I honestly hadn't thought that Dracula would be scary, but I was creeped out several times while reading it in the wee hours of the morning. The way the story is told through correspondence and various characters' diary entries is very effective, and the plot moves along quickly enough that even the slow parts aren't boring.

Of course, the "women are such fragile flowers, weak of mind, body, and will, needing protection and to be brought to redemption through the acts of men" thing scraped my nerves a little bit. (Okay, a lot.) But I chalked it up to the gender roles of that era, breathed into a paper bag for a while, and tried to ignore it, although it got especially difficult when Mina was presented as almost a saint because she had a "man's mind" along with a woman's caring, delicate, etc. soul.

Aside from that, hehe, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. It's sweeping and melodramatic and gory and full of lovely creepy imagery, and it's a rollicking good time. A few spots are slow, but it doesn't stay slow for long enough to matter. The ending seemed a little abrupt, though.

By the way, the introduction by Leonard Wolf is definitely worth reading. Aside from letting the reader know how Dracula came to be, it also offers up a huge list of classic vampire stories and puts them in context.

two/seventy-five

Once upon a time I read The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank, and I thought, "Meh." I liked it, but it did not blow my mind or change my world. As time passed, I forgot what I actually thought about it and instead, after reading several reviews that classified it as standard chick-lit, decided that's what it had been and forgot about it.

I decided to give Bank's second novel, The Wonder Spot, a go, mostly because I could get it for free in one of the book club sign-up things. Also, I like the title. I read it warily, afraid that it would end up being chick-lit at the end, with a wedding or a baby or a weight loss that would reaffirm the protagonist's place in the world and wrap everything up in a bow, and that I would despise myself for wasting my time with it.

Instead, I found myself liking the book quite a bit. Bank writes from a place she knows, and the conversations flow believably and Sophie, the main character, is definitely not a one-dimensional cut-out. There really isn't a particular plot; the novel is mostly the story of Sophie's life. Huge chunks of years are skipped, but Bank doesn't think the reader is stupid -- she gives enough clues that you can figure out what happened in the time you missed, but doesn't feel it's necessary to spell it out. Sophie is likeable and relatable and by the end, you feel like you've just read a long letter from a friend.

I'm going to have to dig out Girls' Guide and see what I think about it now.

query

A Million Little Pieces -- fact or faux?

Ah, The Smoking Gun . . . I always forget how much I love their bulldoggedness until a really juicy story like this comes along. I still have to finish the article, but the first page has been very interesting.

one/seventy-five

Well, if we ignore the pesky fact that this isn't technically the first book I read this year, I can say that the new year started off right. I love Ann Patchett's writing. She always chooses the perfect word, the perfect phrase, the twist in the storyline that's exactly right.

The Magician's Assistant starts off with a death, that of a magician named Parsifal, and follows his assistant, Sabine, as she struggles to make sense of it all. It's full of dream sequences and flashbacks and it's a little hard to get into all the dreaminess at first, but when you do, it all clicks together and the book seems almost . . . magical. It's like fantasy, but not. It's beautiful.

I read some reviews on Amazon that reflected disappointment in the story's outcome, but I think it was just right for the story. Everything doesn't have to be tied into a perfectly clean bow at the end of a book for it to be good. I enjoyed the potential, the way it was left open, the way almost anything could happen.

Yeah, it's safe to say I recommend this one.

new year, new goal

My reading goal for this year is seventy-five books. I'd like to throw a little poetry into the mix, maybe devour a couple of plays. It seems ambitious, but I think I can do it.

And on we go . . .

poor neglected book blog

Here's a link to help you feel a little more loved: here's a guy checking out the covers of some of the books that show up in the most current NY Times Book Review. I'm a whore for good cover design, and I love to shred bad cover design, so I think it's a pretty fun little blog. Nothing too in-depth, but a good way to waste a few minutes and get some design nerd laughs.

fifty-two/fifty-two

Cheating just a smidge, because I finished this one on January 1. But really, it was so depressing that I'd like to leave it in 2005.

I've read Anne Tyler before: Back When We Were Grownups. I liked it, but wasn't blown away by it. It annoyed me a little -- I think I found Tyler's dialogue irritating, but I can't remember for sure, I just remember a vague sense of annoyance.

Anyway, The Amateur Marriage tells the story of a boy and girl who fall in love, get married, and have a few kids. That's it. It covers the WHOLE thing, sixty years in their lives. And the first half of the book was good. I especially enjoyed the setting; Tyler is a good writer, I'm not denying that, and she made me feel what is was like to be caught up in the fever of the war. But after all the cute meetings and outside descriptions of the couple, she starts telling everything from their perspective, and man, two more unlikeable people you'll have a hard time meeting.

Almost everyone in the book is unlikeable, and not one of them is interesting enough to make up for it. Add to that one of the most depressing stories I've read in a while, and I just . . . bleh. I didn't like it, is what I'm saying.

Tyler is a spot-on writer as far as letting you understand characters' motivations, and setting the mood of the story, but this one just ended up being too gray for me.

fifty-one/fifty-two

Assassination Vacation is the third book by Sarah Vowell that I've read, even though it's the first one of hers that I heard of. I was waiting patiently for it to come out in paperback. I love the covers on her books, they rock, to put it simply.

I've gotten used to Vowell's sarcastic writing style now, and I've grown fond of it. Vowell has a sort of fascination with assassinations, and knows all sorts of quirky facts (as well as normal date-and-place facts) about our presidents. This book focuses mostly on McKinley and Lincoln's assassinations, but it's really all over the place. It's scattered in a fun way. Vowell travels on a sort of "best of" assassination tour, dragging friends and family along with her from time to time, and the whole thing seems like a good time, even given the subject matter.

fifty/fifty-two

It looks like I might actually hit my goal after all. I finished Steve Martin's Shopgirl last night. It was very short and a quick little read. I think I liked Martin's other novel better, but I can't quite point out why.

It was a little weird to notice his first work also had a character who was obsessed with connections and points meeting points, just like the main character in The Pleasure of My Company. A little hmm.

forty-nine/fifty-two

I'm cheating a little here: I finished all of Kelly Link's Stranger Things Happen except for the last few pages, and it's due back at the library, so I'm counting it as done. Exquisite and surreal; I think I'm developing a taste for dreamlike short stories. I used to hate them, but I enjoyed this collection more than I expected to. I'm looking to add it to my collection (and finish it 100%!) and check out her newer book, Magic for Beginners. By the way, you can download Stranger Things Happen for free from the publisher's website . . . I don't have the link on hand, but I'll add it later. For now, I think you can find it pretty easily if you Google it.

forty-eight/fifty-two

Following the Klosterman trend: Killing Yourself to Live, wherein Señor Klosterman visits the sites of a bunch of rock-n-roll deaths. Again, he allows himself to come off as kind of a dick at times, but acknowledges that he is doing so, which I guess is supposed to make it not so bad. It was an enjoyable read, but I'm glad it was a library book and I didn't pay for it.

forty-seven/fifty-two

Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. Oh, hipsters. It was good for what it was, but sometimes the tone got a little boring and way too self-involved. Granted, Klosterman ADMITS that he's totally self-centric, but that doesn't help sometimes, you know? It was basically a blog in book form. I'm not saying that negatively, but that describes it best, I think. I did enjoy it, although I know this review makes it sound like I didn't. I'm feeling rushed and always sound more negative when I'm rushed. If you're into popcult, you'll like this book.

forty-six/fifty-two

Okay, these next few reviews are going to be short and sweet and not too descriptive, because I'm playing catch-up (catsup, ketchup).

Amy bought me a copy of Sarah Vowell's Take the Cannoli as a cheer-up present, and I loved it. Loved it much more than Patriot, although that may just be because I was in the mood for her style this time and not last time. It was good, and I've already put her other stuff on my wishlist.

Okay, NEXT.

meh

Sorry it's been so long, I have just been incredibly book-less lately. Current events (and this month in general) are making it hard for me to concentrate on much. Being online helps because I can flit from topic to topic, so most of my usual reading time is being spent online.

I did pick up a few magazines today because I thought they might help get me back on course: domino, EW, and CHOW. I'm hoping the new Venus is in the po box; Ben is checking it tomorrow, er, today. I will probably review them just to get back in the habit.

I'm only a dozen or so pages away from finishing Stranger Things Happen (a fantastic read, by the way) -- I just have to get back into that zone. I'm hoping to be able to do it by the end of the week. Mostly becaus my to-be-read pile isn't getting any smaller. It's started glowering at me now. Gotta get it gone.

obsession 1 / karen 0

I probably shouldn't admit this, but instead of reading, I've been putting books into my library over at Bibliophil. It's way too much fun, and I'm really glad I found it before I got too far into doing my book catalog. This way there are pictures and it's searchable and you can arrange the books in different way, like by whether you own them or whether you've read them. You can arrange your library by author, book, rating, etc. And you can have "buddies" to whom you can recommend titles.

There are a few kinks, but it's free, so I'm not complaining too much. I'm sure it will all be worked out eventually. The best part, the part that makes me forget about any glitches, is that you can EXPORT YOUR LIST.

This is just what that book-obsessive part of me -- you know, the part that's always worried about having to replace my library and becoming overwhelmed and having no idea what was in it -- needed.

Here's the link to my library, if you're interested.

forty-five/fifty-two

I'll admit I picked up The Memory of Running mostly because of Stephen King's column on it. Back when it was only available as an audiobook, he wrote this glowing review about the writing and about how Smithy was one of the most memorable and original characters ever, etc., etc. He made the book sound really good, is what I'm saying.

I forgot about it for a little while then saw it on a list somewhere of good summer reads or something, and remembered King's enthusiasm, so I reserved it at the library. There was actually a waiting list, which is usually a good sign.

So the wee hours of this morning found me finishing Ron McLarty's The Memory of Running. It was good. I almost couldn't believe how good it was. It's the story of Smithy, this enormous guy who decides -- or it's kind of decided for him, really -- to go on a long cross-country bike ride. So there are a lot of mini-adventures there. It's also his sister's story, and that part of it is pretty sad. Once again I've made a book sound much lamer than it is, but it's written very well, and Smithy is the best kind of Everyman, accessible and mostly likeable without being cloying. And the story just flows from page to page, there are no slow parts.

So thank you, Mr. King. One day I'll read one of your books, too.

forty-four/fifty-two

A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You is a collection of short stories by Amy Bloom. Every story is as perfectly crafted as that title. Even the cover is perfect.

The stories are all about ordinary people doing semi-strange things, but the writing is so beautiful that even the most everyday details seem almost magical. The most horrible things people do in her stories seem strangely pretty when she writes about them.

I borrowed this one from the library -- I'm definitely adding it to my collection, though. And I'll be hunting down anything else by Bloom as well.

forty-three/fifty-two

I think the audiobook (cassette) version of David Sedaris's Me Talk Pretty One Day might have been abridged, but I'm not sure. Either way, it's still excellent. Remember back when I disliked David Sedaris? When I made the mistake of reading Holidays on Ice as my Sedaris introduction? That was pretty dumb, huh?

There were a couple of essays on here that weren't quite as good as the rest, but that's a pretty low bar to limbo under, so I won't count that against it. I actually saved this audiobook as a treat for the workweek, that's how much I enjoy listening to Sedaris read his own stuff. And the stuff is pretty good in its own right, as well. Like the piece about learning French -- that was one of my favorites. Of course, it was also pretty cool to HEAR Sedaris's Billie Holiday impersonation, so I'd rec this one even if you've already read the book, really.

A+++++!!!!, as they say on eBay.

forty-two/fifty-two

I am in love with audiobooks. I can't say it enough. Before I found out that my library has a rather decent selection, I dreaded the drive into and back from work -- a forty-five minute trip each way -- because it felt like such a waste of time. Now I feel like I'm actually getting something accomplished.

This edition of The Best American Travel Writing, edited by Frances Mayes, is a collection of the best travel writing from 2002. For the most part, the selections are read by their authors, which is cool. I love hearing authors read their own work. When they're not read by their respective authors, the pieces are read by Frances Mayes. She has a pretty voice, very Southern and soothing; however, it's such a soothing voice that I couldn't concentrate on the pieces she read, and my mind kept wandering, so that wasn't too great. The other authors (including David Sedaris!) mostly had good reading voices, with a few exceptions, but even the exceptions weren't horrible.

The selections themselves are a mixed bag; they were all okay, but half of them were too dry and static, full of long descriptions that might make for good reading but make for boring listening. The great ones, like "Forty Years in Acapulco," "In the Land of the White Rajahs," and "Home for Dinner," made up for it, though.

I would recommend getting this one from the library, but only if you already have an interest in travel writing. I wouldn't recommend buying it. I should also note that this is an abridged version of the book -- there are less than a dozen pieces on the four CDs that make up the audiobook, and the actual book has over twenty.

If you want it in book form instead of CD, The Best American Travel Writing 2001 is supposed to be better than this edition, so I think I'd try that one before seeking out the full 2002 edition.

forty-one/fifty-two

It's high time for a "Buffy" book, don't you think? The Lost Slayer is a four-part serial novel (aka "we can make you buy four books at three bucks a pop which is a third more dinero than if we stuck these all together in one book, hahaha!") written by my favorite "Buffy" novelist, Christopher Golden. Most of Golden's books are well edited, well plotted, and well characterized. A lot of "Buffy" books have serious problems with characterization, or horribly lame plots, or, worse, the saddest editing ever. Like names that are spelled wrong or facts that aren't actually facts.

ANYWAY, this one was good. Buffy and Co. have to fight the god of bats, and along the way Buffy gets sucked into a future that is extraordinarily of the bad. She has to fight to fix the badness as well as figure out how to get back to her present in time to stop herself from making the mistake that leads to this future.

This one has actually been sitting on my shelf for a couple of years; I'm glad I got around to reading it. It's most excellent.