Top Ten Halloween-like Books

This week, the Top Ten topic is books/movies that get us in the Halloween spirit. Since I’m not really a huge movie person, I’ve decided to go with books. That, of course, means that this list will read kinda like a list of my favorite RIP books, to be honest. Shrug. That’s okay, right? In no particular order:

night_circus_cover1. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern – Atmospheric circus-horror. Doesn’t get much better than this one.

2. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier – Classic ghost-like story, with crazy villains and lots of creepy fun.

3. Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux – To be honest, I have a lot of issues with this book, and a weird love-hate relationship with it, but it still makes a wonderful Halloween book.

4. Coraline by Neil Gaiman – Book, graphic novel, movie. All three are fantastic for the Halloween season.

5. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde – Another macabre classic that’s perfect for Halloween horror-lite.

6. Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka – This one opens with a man turning into a giant insect. Come on.

devilish7. Devilish by Maureen Johnson – Demons, curses, and Catholic school. Yeah.

8. Ghost Cat by Beverly Butler – Okay, so this one is a general class of books. I don’t mean this one specifically. I mean the general: childhood books that creeped the pants off us back when we were kids. They’re perfect for rereading before Halloween. Ghost Cat was my particular creep-book.

9. We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson – Actually, most Shirley Jackson will do. The Haunting of Hill House, or even better, her short story “The Lottery.” *shudder*

10. Amphigorey by Edward Gorey – Or Amphigorey Too. Or either of the next couple Amphigorey books. They’re all perfect for Halloween.

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Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by The Broke and the Bookish.

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Sunday Coffee – NaNoWriMo

museNational Novel Writing Month. November. Fifty thousand words in thirty days. A tradition for me now since 2009, an event I love to pieces. And yet, I debated whether or not to participate this year.

Moving across the country has really torn me apart. I don’t know anyone here, and I feel very much an outsider. My intentions, long before I actually moved, were to get involved in the NaNo community here come November. After all, NaNo is where I’ve really found my people in the past. Some of my very best friends have come from the NaNo season.

As the season approached, however, I was no longer sure I even wanted to participate. My brain is not in the right place. I have a bare sketch idea for a story to work on, and no real desire to work on it. October – sometimes even September – is normally a time of frenzied outlining, planning, dreaming up scenes. By the time November 1st arrives, I’m like a cork waiting to pop out of a champagne bottle. My ridiculous speed/volume has become a joke in the San Antonio NaNo group. It’s never taken me more than fifteen days to hit the 50k mark, and once it only took six days. I wrote two novels one year because I finished the first so quickly and didn’t want the frenzy to end. Last year, I wrote 141,000+ words in 20 days (that was exhausting!).

This is not because I’m some fantastic writer or anything. All these words are NaNo words – words that are rough and need to be rewritten in a better form later. I use NaNo to create what I call a glorified narrative outline, fleshing out a story that I already have bones for, and then rewriting from scratch later on. It’s like really intense brainstorming, and the reason I go so fast and write so much is because I love love love the collective writing with all of my wonderful Wrimo friends. Wrimos are my people, and they make the event for me. I can’t do it alone. Proof? I’ve tried NaNoing alone in other 30-day months, and I rarely hit the 50k mark, and if I do, it takes ALL month to get there, with painstaking difficulty and no fun at all. It’s the people, the community, that really makes NaNo shine for me.

I am no longer with my people. My Wrimos are 2000 miles away, and I’m depressed, anxious, and brain-scattered. It just…doesn’t seem like fun this year, and I considered not participating at all. But, as I said above, it’s tradition. I’ve been doing this for five years now, and I didn’t want to skip out in Year 6. So I decided on a story, signed up, and dubiously RSVPed for a Meet & Greet that’ll be later this afternoon with over 100 Wrimos from the Boston area. Yikes. I hope I don’t drown in that crowd…

Maybe meeting other writers from this area will help get my excitement up. I still have five days before November 1st. I can build an outline in that time, if I’m really motivated. Maybe this Meet & Greet will make me feel a thousand times better about everything. Maybe. I’m trying to hope.

In the meantime, if you’re a fellow Wrimo and we’re not already writing buddies, look me up! My username is pookasluagh like always. I’d love to journey with you!

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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson (audio)

jekyll hyde audioI have read the story of Jekyll & Hyde so many times since my first read eight years ago that I really cannot just review it like a normal book. Even my first review – my third read-through, and one of my very favorite reviews ever – said absolutely nothing about the book itself. I just love this one. I love its atmosphere, and the cheesy word-play, and the way it gets me giddy-excited about the process of writing.

This last one, actually, is the reason I chose to revisit the book for the half-dozenth (or so) time. NaNoWriMo is coming up very soon, and my brain/heart has just not been in it this year. I’m living in a brand new part of the country, feeling immensely homesick, missing all my fellow Wrimos in San Antonio, knowing absolutely no one around this area, and that’s on top of the fact that moving across the country is stressful and pretty much threw my writing plans for the year out the window. I wasn’t even sure if I would attempt NaNo this year, but decided that I needed to, because it’s pretty much the only way I’m going to meet My People here in the Boston area. Wrimos are My People. At least, they were in San Antonio, and I hope they will be here, too.

The point of that rambly paragraph is that I decided to attempt NaNo, and I needed to read something that got my writing-juices flowing again. Jekyll & Hyde has done that in the past, and so I thought it would be perfect to pair with RIP, and to listen to while I did banal chores around the house. Short audiobook, just over three hours long, half that when listening on double-speed. Perfect, right?

Except I really ought not to have listened to this book.

I am not saying the production was bad. Scott Brick, the narrator, is one of my very favorite audiobook narrators. I have loved his work in the past, and he did a fine job here as well. The problem, instead, lies in the fact that I’ve read this book so many times that it already has an audio soundtrack in my head. These characters have specific voices and inflections already. I usually don’t listen to audiobook productions of books I know well, for this very reason. No matter how good those Harry Potter audiobooks are, I refuse to listen to them. I don’t want my personal mental audio file of Harry Potter changed by someone else’s interpretation. And while this audiobook didn’t necessarily change the way I heard Jekyll & Hyde, it also didn’t capture that same atmospheric, writer-juice-inducing quality that print-reading does. I found myself…tuned out.

Again, the production was good. The narration was good. It was a very solid audiobook, and I would definitely recommend it. Personal circumstance just happened to get in the way for me, and I suppose I’ll need to find some other writer-juice-inducing book to read or listen to before November 1st. *eyes audio and/or print copies of The Night Circus*

Note: In looking for a cover image for this post, I discovered that there are many, many audio versions of this book around, including one read by another of my favorite narrators, Martin Jarvis. This makes me want to do lots of listenings and comparisons…god I’m such a geek.

Posted in 2014, Adult, Personal, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Afterworlds, by Scott Westerfeld

afterworldsEighteen-year-old Darcy Patel can’t believe the dream is really happening to her. Her novel has been picked up by an agent, and a publisher. She’s received a huge two-book-deal advance. She’s moving to NYC. She’s going to be a real author.

Lizzie is the only survivor of a terrorist attack in the Dallas airport, but the attack leaves her with more than just psychological scars. Her near-death experience turned her into a psychopomp, a collector of souls with access to the Afterworld. She has to figure out how all this works with the help of a very hot millenia-old Indian psychopomp, the ghost of her mother’s murdered childhood friend, and a creepy old man who enjoys ripping up ghost-souls.

The catch? Lizzie doesn’t actually exist. She’s the protagonist of Darcy’s forthcoming book, Afterworlds.

Oy. October must be my month of reading-books-by-beloved-authors-and-not-enjoying-them-as-much-as-previous-books-by-said-author. Afterworlds was a solid book. There were many good things about it. I loved watching Darcy try to simultaneously navigate the publishing world, her first relationship, and the perils of becoming an adult. I also loved reading Lizzie’s story – in alternating chapters with Darcy’s – particularly because the narrative sounded like Darcy’s writing rather than Westerfeld’s. He captured that brand-new-writer, first-ever-book feel perfectly, and also managed to make the narrative sound the way Darcy spoke and thought in her sections. That is really difficult to do, and props to Westerfeld for pulling it off.

So why was the book disappointing? Well…because I couldn’t figure out the point of it. When I first heard of this book, I knew it was going to alternate between Darcy’s and Lizzie’s stories. I thought there was some reason for this, that Darcy would discover that Lizzie was a real person, or Lizzie would be aware that her story was manufactured, or Darcy would write something into Lizzie’s world only to have it start happening to her. Something. Something that tied the two together. Certainly, Darcy’s story was tied to Lizzie’s, in that she spent a lot of time rewriting, and worrying about things like using her parents’ religion to make a love interest, etc. But Lizzie’s story was not affected by Darcy’s at all, except the fact that she was written by her. There was a relationship between the two, but no interaction, if that makes sense. In the end, it just seemed like two books, side by side, both interesting enough on their own, but with no real reason to be put together into one.

I feel like I’m missing something, I guess. Because again, the stories themselves were interesting. I was far more interested in Darcy’s, probably because I’m a writer myself, but I enjoyed both. I just didn’t feel any real coming-together of the two narratives, and that prevented me from getting swept away like I have with Westerfeld’s books in the past, which in turn left me a bit disappointed by the end.

Posted in 2014, Prose, Young Adult | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Sunday Coffee – Utter Readathon Fail

flowers

(See? Slytherins can make lovely friends who send them flowers when they’re struggling…they’re not ALL mean people…)

Um…I was supposed to participate in Readathon yesterday. I haven’t participated in quite some time, and I was looking forward to it this fall. I knew it was going to be hectic, and busy, because yesterday was my oldest son’s 14th birthday. Originally, I wasn’t even going to sign up, with the whole birthday thing going on. But then Morrigan wanted to sign up, and asked if he could spend most of his birthday doing Readathon, and so I said sure, we can do that. That was cool…except then yesterday morning came, and he decided he didn’t want to do Readathon after all. Oops.

I thought about doing some reading anyway, but in the end, it wasn’t worth it. We had lots of party stuff to get together. Things to cook. Games to plan. Etc. I spent the day with my family instead of with a book, and that’s totally okay, I think. I just kinda feel bad since I signed up and then bailed. Especially because I did the same thing in April (except in April, I bailed because I had an all-day write-a-thon instead), and I didn’t even sign up for either Readathon in 2013. It’s been two years now since I participated.

So…April. I’m looking at you. It’s long past time for me to rejoin my fellow book-people.

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The Secret Place, by Tana French (audio)

frenchStephen Moran has been working cold cases since his appearance in Faithful Place. Holly Mackey, who has aged seven years since Faithful Place, comes to him with a postcard from a wall at her private girls’ school. The wall is known as “The Secret Place,” an anonymous place for girls to put up their secrets. This secret, however, is police-worthy. It references Chris Harper, a boy from the neighboring private boys’ school, who died the previous year, and asserts that the writer knows who killed him. Armed with this new lead, Moran works with murder squad detective Antoinette Conway, both to find a killer, and to possibly break his way into the murder squad itself.

The Secret Place is unlike other books in this series so far. It splits the narrative into two competing stories. There is Moran’s story, narrated in the audio version by Stephen Hogan, that goes through the detectives’ moves throughout the day that Holly brings in the postcard. The second story, narrated by Laura Hutchinson, starts nearly a year before Chris Harper’s death, following the movement of Holly and her three best friends up through and past the murder. The detectives figure out the tapestry that led up to the murder at the same time the reader experiences it through the eyes of four teenage girls. It was an interesting experience, and I think Tana French pulled it off well.

The Secret Place is the fifth book in the Dublin Murder Squad series, and it falls right in the middle for me in terms of enjoyment. I liked it more than the first two books (In the Woods and The Likeness), with which I had some issues, but not nearly as much as Faithful Place or Broken Harbor, books three and four. I certainly found myself listening to the audiobook almost obsessively – enough that Stephen Hogan’s Detective-Moran-voice entered my dreams and narrated them for me one night, ha! – but I didn’t feel the same pull as I had with the last two books. I’m not sure why there was that disconnect, but I just didn’t feel quite as compelled as with the last two books. The Secret Place felt slower.

Slower could have been beautiful – I like slow – except that it was coupled with one thing that I had conflicted feelings about. This goes into very minor spoiler territory, not related to the case in any way. Feel free to skip this next paragraph if you’d like.

The Dublin Murder Squad books, thus far, have been realistic books, in terms of genre. There haven’t been any, say, paranormal elements that have come into them. All of a sudden, though, this book strayed into psychic-like territory. The girls are suddenly making lights turn on and off by opening and closing their fists, making objects burn just with their anger, making things move without touching them. I kept waiting for there to be an explanation, but it never came. The closest it got was Holly mentally commenting, long after the girls stopped doing these things, that she could already tell that as an adult, she wouldn’t believe they’d really happened. And in a way, that makes sense. I remember back to high school, and the psychic-like things that I saw, things that make no logical sense in the world. If they have explanations, I have never figured them out. In that light, I actually really like this part of The Secret Place. At the same time, my adult sensibilities sort of rebel against them, and I find myself wanting that logical explanation, especially in a series that has stayed relentlessly realistic before. End minor spoiler.

Beyond the conflicted feelings, I enjoyed the book, just not as much as the last two. I will definitely keep listening to Tana French’s books as they appear, and I can’t wait to find out who the narrator will be for the next volume (I hope it’s Conway!).

Performance: Stephen Hogan’s performance was pretty convincing, obviously, if he was narrating my dreams one night. I found it much improved from his reading of Broken Harbor, and didn’t have trouble keeping his character-voices straight this time. Laura Hutchinson’s performance was fantastic, and I admit, her Irish accent was so thick I had a hard time adjusting to it, and had to listen to those sections a little slower (single speed instead of double speed). Both narrators managed to make the teenagers sound mostly like teenagers without sounding silly (as many narrators of teens do). It was a very solid audiobook overall.

Posted in 2014, Adult, Prose | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

Sunday Coffee – Busy busy busy

IMG_8338I haven’t had time for much these days. Been under a lot of stress. Just wanted to take a moment to pop my head back in and say hello. Hopefully soon I’ll get back to my feed reader and responding to comments and all that jazz.

In the meantime, I’m gearing up for next weekend’s Readathon! My oldest son’s birthday is that day – he’ll be fourteen! – and he wants to have a readathon party for his birthday. Ha! So he’s going to participate too, on Instagram, and we’ll take a few hours off in the afternoon to have a little party.

I don’t have any particular plans for readathon yet. There are a bunch of RIP books that I have yet to get to, so I might make this a RIP-centric readathon. I have to admit, though, I’m tempted to spend the day going back to reread the Hunger Games series. I haven’t read it since Mockingjay came out in 2010 (even though I adored Mockingjay, unlike most people). My two younger sons are currently reading through the series and we’ve been watching the movies slowly as they finish each book. I kinda want to reread in preparation for the first Mockingjay movie coming out next month. We’ll see. Torn between rereads and new reads!

Anyway, that’s all for this week. Hopefully life will go back to an even keel soon.

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An Age of License, by Lucy Knisley

licenseAn Age of License is Lucy Knisley’s latest memoir/travelogue-thingy. It depicts an uncertain time in her mid-twenties, on a trip through Europe, and the discoveries she made about herself there.

Let me just say first off: I adore Knisley’s work. French Milk is one of my very favorite graphic novels. Though I do not like to cook, I also adored Relish, her cooking memoir. The moment I heard that this book was coming out, I put myself on the hold list at the library. It came in to me last week.

My thoughts on the book are, unfortunately, divided. On the positive side, I enjoyed the art and humor and the observations that Knisley made all throughout the book. On the negative side, I didn’t feel like there was as strong of a narrative arc to this one. I understand that this is, essentially, a journal – but so was French Milk. I felt like, as a book, An Age of License lacked focus in places. While it was fantastic as a collection of little stories – I did really love all the little tangents and meanderings – it didn’t, as a whole, have the same power as the first two I read.

That’s not to say I didn’t like it. I did enjoy the book, as I said above, and I will continue to voraciously read Knisley’s future work. I just didn’t feel this one had quite as much brilliance as French Milk or Relish.

Posted in 2014, Adult, Visual | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Top Ten Character-Driven Novels

I adore character-driven novels, so it was really hard to limit this post to ten titles! Here’s what I came up with, in no particular order:

golem jinniThe Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker – I adore seeing character-driven fantasy novels.

Crossed Wires by Rosy Thornton – All of Thornton’s novels are character-driven (and fantastic), but this is my favorite of them.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov – Humbert Humbert might not be a likable character, but he’s still the impetus for this novel…

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell – I debated which of Rowell’s novels to choose, but in the end, decided this is the one I wanted to feature.

The Awakening by Kate Chopin – One of the best character-studies I’ve ever read.

The Nature of Jade by Deb Caletti – Another author who excels in character, though I think this one is the best of many of hers I’ve read.

unitThe Unit by Ninni Holmqvist – Character-driven dystopia. Not something you see very often. This one is fantastic.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath – Slide into darkness with the narrator, and claw your way back out again. Brilliantly executed.

The Untelling by Tayari Jones – Again, all of Jones’ novels are character driven, so it was hard to pick just one. The character in this one was so rich.

The Leftovers by Tom Perotta – And again. I could have chosen any, but as this one follows the psychological developments of many characters in reaction to an event, I chose it as the most character-driven.

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Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by The Broke and the Bookish.

Posted in Book Talk | Tagged | 10 Comments

Sunday Coffee – Reflections on 2010: Guilt-reading

IMG_8234My years of book blogging look like a bell curve: starting with a lower number of books read per year, rising steadily for several years, and then slowly dropping back down. The peak of that curve was in 2010, a year during which I read 217 books. It was also the year where my interest in publicly blogging about books started to wane, due both to outside influence (*coughNYTimescough*), and the way I was reading that year.

Guilt-reading. Looking back over my list of titles read in 2010, it’s sad for me to see that probably 75% of my reading that year carried the label of “should” or “supposed to.” I read very few books that I wanted to read, because I was so busy reading books that:

  1. everyone else loved and said I should read
  2. someone specifically recommended to me, thinking I’d love
  3. were given to me for review
  4. had been on my shelf so long that I felt I needed to read them soon
  5. fit a specific criteria (POC, LGBTQ, from certain countries, etc)

The result of this kind of reading is that I got completely turned off reading in general. While I kept going at this ridiculous pace (an average of 18 books per month, with an all-time high of 27 books in April that year…), I no longer enjoyed the process of reading books, much less writing about them afterwards. It was the beginning of the end for me, carrying over into the first 4-5 months of 2011 before I finally let go of all the obligations that kept me from reading only what I wanted to read.

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy any books I read in 2010. Some of my very favorite books came from that year. Little Children. Germinal. Sonnets from the Portuguese. Notes on a Scandal. The Monk. And more. It was also the year I discovered the joy of audiobooks with Hardy’s Return of the Native (which remains my all-time favorite review ever). It’s just that these gems – all books I read because I wanted to, rather than because I should – were buried among dozens and dozens of guilt-reads. And that’s not cool. I am happy to say that I’ve outgrown guilt-reading, and hope never to repeat a year like 2010, despite the periodic gems.

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