Author: booknutgirls

booknutgirls http://thebooknutdotcom.wordpress.com I read. I blog. I sell books. I chauffeur my kids. What more do you need to know?

Artichoke’s Heart

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by Suzanne Supplee
ages: 13+
First sentence: “Mother spent $700 on a treadmill ‘from Santa’ that I will never use.”

Weight is always a tricky subject. Writing about it, talking about it, thinking about it… everyone (read: girls and women) seems to have an opinion on it, obsess over it (or say they don’t obsess over it), or compare themselves to others. It’s a curse of today’s media-saturated age, but that’s a subject for another post.

Rosemary Goode is overweight (she thinks she’s obese, but she’s “only” 200 pounds, which to my mind is not obese, but then again, I’m not a health professional… and it’s mostly about how she thinks of herself anyway… so I tried to go with it). Her problem: food. (Well, duh.) She loves it. Craves it. Eats too much of it. Which is a problem of itself (inner pop psychologist refraining from commenting), but actually (couldn’t contain it. Sorry.) is a symptom of a larger problem: her mom. Rosemary’s mom, Rose Warren Goode, is the owner of Heavenly Hair in Spring Hill, Tennessee. She’s a single mom, getting pregnant with Rosemary when she was 17. She’s worked hard all her life: to be a successful businesswoman, to be a “good” (mom-issues in a YA book. Again.) mom, to be happy. She’s really close to her sister, Mary, and spends most of her free time with her (rather than her kid. No wonder Rosemary turns to food). Rosemary (obviously) resents this. But, because this is the South (I did love the voice in this book; it was very Southern. I felt like was back in Arkansas…), Rosemary just puts a happy face on, and goes through life the best she can. Because that’s what’s expected of her.

Except. She’s not happy. (Duh.)

Then she meets Kyle Cox. Well, “meet” is pretty strong. She reads about him in the school paper — he’s a jock — and he’s in her study hall. And he smiles at her. Which is the first little step she needs to get off her bum and do something about her habits. She goes on a liquid diet (issue: this girl crashed dieted to lose 45 pounds in the end. This bothered me. A LOT.), she starts exercising, she gets counseling (as a “trial experiment”). And when she starts losing weight she starts feeling better about herself… a little at a time. I don’t want to insinuate that it was a sudden, miraculous overnight change, because it wasn’t (something which I did like). But, once the pounds started coming off, she began to come out of her shell. (Are we saying that fat people just need to lose weight to feel good about themselves? That it’s impossible to love your body when your overweight? Rosemary’s target goal is 120 pounds — she’s 5 foot 6 — is that reasonable? See what I mean about weight being a loaded — sorry, no pun intended — subject?)

I did like the characters: Rosemary is a very sweet girl, and Kyle is adorable in his geekiness. But I had issues (being overweight myself) with this book. Not a bad one, but not my ideal fat-girl book either. Then again, I’m not sure there can be a fat-girl book that will please everyone. The issue is just too volatile. Which is too bad. (But that’s a subject for another post.)

Aurelia

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by Anne Osterland
ages: 13+
First sentence: “Death disturbed the night.”

There are several elements that make a good fantasy tale, at least for me. There must be:

A feisty hero or heroine — I do better with feisty heroines, but a good, swashbuckling hero is great, too.

Action — swordfighting, adventuring, chasing, etc.

Romance — must have romance. Always nice to have a to-die for with an awesome leading pair, but even if it’s just hinted at (or one of the parties is cluesless), that works for me, too. I do unrequited okay, but pining just turns me off.

Intrigue, suspense, mystery, and magic are all optional.

Most of all, it must be fun.

Aurelia fits the bill. Feisty heroine: check. Aurelia is a conflicted person, but in the end, finds herself and kicks some butt. Action: great swordfighting, awesome horse-racing, mostly well-written. Romance: *swoon*. Mystery and intrigue and suspense: check. I was biting my nails, intent on figuring out who was behind the plot to assassinate Aurelia (that’s basically the plot of the book), and kept pestering M with questions (she read it before I got to it) until I figured it out. Granted, I was nearly done with the book at the time.

And fun? Check. It definately was fun. Very, very fun.

My New Favorite Movie

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I know I have a thing for Austen movie adaptations. I’ve seen them all — or at least most of them — and I adore every single one (or at least most of them). But, I think this one has to be my current favorite: Lost in Austen. It was a BBC/ITV miniseries (I think it aired here in America back in March…), and the premise was quite simple: take Elizabeth out of the story, and stick a modern woman — Amanda Price — into the story. They turn the story up on its head — no one is exactly who they seem, and the story doesn’t go quite right — with references not only to the book, but to the Colin Firth miniseries as well. (There’s a brilliant scene — you get a glimpse of it about 30 seconds into the trailer — playing off the lake scene in the mini-series. Brilliantly funny.)

It was a fun romp, and I have to admit I like Elliot Cowan’s Darcy…
What is it about a dark-haired British guy in Regency dress??

Okay, yeah, this is just me being a ga-ga about another Austen flick, but really: it’s quite fun. Really fun.

Ancedotes of Destiny and Ehrengard

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by Isak Dinesen
ages: adult
First sentence (of the first story): “Mira Jima told this story.”

I bought this book ages and ages ago (maybe 12 years?), and although I read it when I first got it, I have to honestly say it’s been sitting on the shelf, mostly unwanted. It’s managed to survive a few move-induced book purges, so there must have been something I liked about it. I just couldn’t remember what. Thanks to the Classics Challenge, I got it off the shelf, dusted it off, and cracked it open to see if I could remember what I liked about it.

Out of the five short stories and the novella, I liked two: the novella and one story. (I do have to admit that I didn’t even read one of the stories. I tried, but I couldn’t get into it.) Two out of six isn’t good odds, but the two are positively sublime. (I suppose I could go into a reflection of Dinesen’s unevenness, but I won’t.)

Babbette’s Feast is the short story that I enjoyed, and the remembered reason for keeping the book. It’s set in Norway. Two sisters of a fairly Puritan sect run by their father take in a refugee from the French Revolution, Babette. She lives with them for 12 years, and then one day, she informs the sisters that she won the lottery and is the recipient of 10,000 francs. Babette decides that what she really wants to do is cook a meal for her benefactresses, and cook she does. Unfortunately, they don’t quite understand what that means until it’s almost too late, yet, in the end, realize what a work of art and grace and service the meal was. I had misremembered it as having a magical realism slant, which it doesn’t. However, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t thoroughly captivating. Actually, at one point, I thought that it reminded me quite a bit of A.S. Byatt’s writing at its best: beautiful, evocative, dense, and somehow sublime.

The novella, Ehrengard, is much like Babbette’s Feast in its descriptiveness. It’s peripherally the story of a prince and princess who fall in love, but don’t quite manage to wait until their wedding day. In the need to cover up the royal faux pas, the Grand Duchess consults with Herr Cazotte, a famous artist as to what to do. They decide to send the prince and princess off to a remote mountain estate and surround them with people who are very loyal and very trustworthy (of course, Cazotte will be included). Among the people is Ehrengard, a daughter of a retired general. She’s beautiful, loyal, and Cazotte decides that he must paint her. However, he doesn’t just want to paint her, he wants to capture her, make her his own, so that the whole world will know that she belongs to him (I never could quite figure out if this was sexual or not…). At any rate, the plot is immaterial. Again, it’s Dinesen’s language that makes the story compelling. Her descriptions, the passion in which Cazotte is captivated by Ehrengard.

What Dinesen doesn’t do is endings, which I think is part of the reason I didn’t like the other stories. They wrap up, but somehow I’m always left feeling like there should have been something more, like I was left dangling in the wind. They — even the ones I like — feel unfinished. I’m sure it’s something she did on purpose, but that doesn’t take away the unfinished feeling I had when I was done reading.

Even with that, though, the two stories were enjoyable to re-read. And so the book will remain on the shelves for the time being.

Book to Movie Friday: 84 Charing Cross Road

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Back when I read the book, and people mentioned that there was a movie starring Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins, I have to admit I was suspicious. It’s a book written in letters, one that doesn’t have much of a plot to begin with. How on earth could the movie do it any justice?

I put it on the back burner of my brain, and let it simmer there for a good 6 months… and then I pulled it out a couple weeks ago, on a night when there wasn’t much to do and I was looking for something to watch. Lacking cable, I turned to Netflix instant play, and discovered the movie.

Anne Bancroft is Helene (pronounced hel-leen; something which doesn’t come through in the book), the struggling writer who loves antique books. Anthony Hopkins is Frank Doel, the British shopkeeper who Helene communicates with via letter for years. And the movie, well it’s a sweet, lovely, charming, adorable, and heart-warming as the book. They kept the epistolary form — Anne speaks the letters, sometimes as she’s thinking them, sometimes as she’s pounding at the typewriter, and sometimes she looks directly at the camera, as if she’s talking to Frank. They expand her life a bit, to give it a place and time, but they don’t really do much to change the plot or situations.

Same goes with Frank. Anthony Hopkins is a wonderfully subtle actor; he takes what could be a stuffy English bookseller and gives him humanity and humor. I liked his expanded behind-the-letters scenes with his family best; it made his death at the end of the story that much more poignant.

I was afraid, initially, that they’d change the story and somehow have Helene and Frank meet or fall in love or something horrible like that. But no: they left it as a friendship of equals, of people who are passionate about books. And even though Helene goes to London at the end of the movie, Frank (as well as the store itself) is long gone, so while it does provide closure the book didn’t have, it doesn’t change anything.

Verdict: As sweet, charming and wonderful as the book.

BoB Round 2 Commentary

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Match 1, The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing , The Kingdom on the Waves vs. Trouble at 8. Winner: The Kingdom on the Waves. As judge Wynne-Jones said, “The Kingdom on the Waves is dense, grand, epic in terms of its scope and virtue. And yes, it’s a marathon to read, by today’s standards, but that’s why it’s a book, rather than, let’s say a video game or a tweet. Books are what we turn to for the heavy lifting!” So… does that mean we’re looking at the eventual winner here? Very possibly.

Match 2, Chains vs. Tender Morsels. Winner: Chains. I was rooting for this one, and it came through. I possibly will read Tender Morsels, eventually, but I really, really loved Chains. So glad it made it through to the next round, though I have no idea how it will stack up against the heavyweight Kingdom of the Waves…

Match 3, The Hunger Games vs. We Are the Ship. Winner: Hunger Games. The judge was John Green. I would have been more surprised if We Are the Ship had won. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy with the result…

Match 4, Graceling vs. The Lincolns. Winner: The Lincolns. What? No grrrl matchup? So sad. Though on the plus side, after Nancy Werlin’s thoughts on The Lincolns made me want to search it out…

This does mean that one non-fiction has made it through to the semi-finals… granted, I think it’s pretty predictable at this point that the ending matchup will be Kingdom on the Waves versus the Hunger Games. (Oh, dear: I’m predicting. It probably won’t happen then…) Then again, anything could happen….

Library Loot #15

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Pretty normal week. I’m getting a big pile of library books on my dresser, though…

For A/K:
Save the Elephants! (Go, Diego, Go! Ready-to-Read)
The Jellybeans and the Big Dance, by Laura Numeroff and Nate Evans/Illus by Lynn Musinger**
Jibberwillies At Night, by Rachel Vail/Illus, by Yumi Heo
How to Be a Good Dog, by Gail Page
The Wizard, by Jack Prelutsky/Illus. by Brandon Dorman**
Myrtle, by Tracey Campbell Pearson
Oh, Look!, by Patricia Polacco

For M:
Bones of Faerie, by Janni Lee Simner*
Heroes of the Valley, by Jonathan Stroud
The Lab, by Jack Heath*
Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean, by Justin Somper*
Vampirates: Tide of Terror, by Justin Somper

For me:
The Oxford Book of Ballads, selected and edited by James Kinsley
Atonement, by Ian McEwan

The roundup is either at Out of the Blue or A Striped Armchair.

*Ones that M eventually read.
**Picture books we really liked.

We Are the Ship

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The Story of Negro League Baseball
by Kadir Nelson
ages: 8-12
First sentence: “Seems like we’ve been playing baseball for a mighty long time.”

I am not a baseball fan. I did not grow up in a baseball house (which is odd, since my dad played ball when he was a teen). Football and basketball were our sports of choice, with tennis and the Olympics following close behind. That said, I think I’m American enough to appreciate baseball, even if I hardly ever watch it. (I did pick up two things about baseball, though: 1) it’s better in person than on TV and 2) the minors are more entertaining to watch than the majors.)

Given that, I really wasn’t interested in reading a book about the Negro Baseball League. I knew about it, sure (I did watch a bit of the Ken Burns’ documentary, after all), but it didn’t really register on my list of things to read about. Then the Battle of the Books came along and, We Are the Ship won its match, taking down a book that I really enjoyed reading. Well, I thought, there must be something to this book.

And there is something to this book. First of all, it’s a lot more detailed than I expected it to be. From it’s size, and the cover, I figured it was a picture book. I was wrong. It’s a detailed history of the Negro League that just happens to have amazing (really, really amazing) photographs. I liked the layout of the book — because it’s so large, the illustrations become not just an accessory, but an integral part of the book — and that the chapters were titled “innings”. And then there’s the narrator. As judge Rachel Cohn said, the narrator has a folksy charm to it, so much that you can imagine the person telling the story.

And what a story. It narrates the story of the Negro Leagues from its inception through to when Jackie Robinson made the crossover into the minor leagues. It touches on the determination of the men to play the game, and play a good game, in spite of the segregation and racism they encountered. Nelson spares no punches: he tells the good along with the bad. And, in the end, I was left with nothing but admiration for the men who wanted to play a game, and found a way to do so.

Abby pointed out that Nelson left out the women who played for the Negro Leagues (something that I didn’t know until she pointed it out), but I’m not sure that detracted from the charm that this book had. At any rate, maybe Nelson will be inspired to write another book on the women who played ball.

I know I’ll definitely read it.

Why Keep It Up?

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I have to admit that I’ve been thinking about why I blog quite a bit lately. Some of it was spurred on by extraneous events a couple months ago, some of it by this post by Becky, and some of it by my attempt to label all my old posts (not an easy task) in order to have some sort of organization in my little bloggy fiefdom.

I also have to admit that I’ve contemplated not writing this post, mostly because I’ll probably end up sounding insecure and whiny (both descriptions can be accurate at times). But, I figured that I used to air grievances and insecurities and dreams more often in the past (part of the interesting things that have surfaced as I’ve gone through my archives), and that my blog has been (lately) nothing but reviews and weekly memes, and that maybe, just maybe, someone wouldn’t mind knowing what goes on in this head of mine.

So. Why do I blog? When I started, nearly five years ago, answering that question was easy. I blogged because I needed a place to put what I think about the books I read. I discovered the wonderful side-effects of blogging: comments, recommendations, blogs by other readers who became friends. I was happy.

Two years ago, I took that up another notch, and entered the world of ARCs and blog-tours and reviewing and attempted in some small way to be on the cutting edge of publishing. All of which I enjoy; there’s something rewarding about hearing about a book you like and being able to contact a publisher requesting it and have it arrive in the mail. Or, sometimes, books I want and have been idly hoping for just arrive unasked for. (Like the other day, when Blackbringer and Silksinger showed up. We were all SUPER excited.) Yeah, there are the duds, and the horrid books that I’ve felt compelled to read because someone sent them to me, but mostly it’s been a positive experience.

But that leaves me as to why I still do this. Especially with Goodreads and Facebook, which whittle away at my reasons to keep blogging — Goodreads fills my original bloggy purpose, and in some respects does it better than I can do it with Blogger. And Facebook provides a community of hand-picked (mostly) friends that I can connect with. (Bonus: no anonymous teenagers telling me I suck because I hated Eragon. I still get those comments, even four years later!) Especially because some of my original bloggy friends have packed it up and quit blogging, or at the very least scaled back. Especially because there are people out there who do what I do much better than I could ever dream of doing it (and are more popular, too).

In the end, I have to admit that I might be at a loss to answer this question. Is it community? (Partially; I adore the book blogging and kidlit communities I fancy myself part of, if only in a small way.) Is it the comments? (Partially; I enjoy reading every one I get, even if I’m absolutely horrid about leaving and responding to comments.) Is it the recommendations? (Yes, but I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of books that I really want to read.) Is it the challenges? (Yes, they help me knock books off my TBR list, and I enjoy them though I’m not great about reading what everyone else things about the books they are reading.) Is it rewarding? (Sometimes. But I think I’m wondering if it’s just not as rewarding as it once was… I don’t think I’ll quit, just yet, but I do have to say that there are days when I lean in that direction.)

Why do you blog? Does it matter if you feel that no one reads your posts because you don’t get comments on them? Does it take up a huge chunk of your time? How do you feel about the community? What do you get out of the whole blogging thing?