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?

More Letters from Pemberly

4 Comments

It’s my own fault that this is even here. You see, after I read Letters from Pemberly, which I kind of liked, I recommended it to Mme. 76 (remember her?) because I knew she would LOVE it. And I was right. A couple days after I lent my copy to her, she called gushing about how wonderful it was and did I know if there was more? Well, I had just happened to have been in Borders, and just happened to have seen that there was a sequel out, and I just happened to mention it to Mme. 76, who rushed out and bought herself a copy.

And so, at the last bookgroup, she lent her copy to me. I put it on my TBR pile, and figured I’d get around to it. But when she asked me on Sunday what I thought of it, I figured I’d better get around to it sooner than later.

So, yesterday, after I finished Elijah of Buxton, I started this one. And last night, halfway through the book, I realized that it really wasn’t all that great, that I really wasn’t all that interested, and I had much better things waiting for me on my TBR pile.

It’s not that it’s a bad book; some parts I read were amusing (especially when Elizabeth brings up having read Emma or Sense and Sensibility). It’s letters from Elizabeth to various people — Aunt Gardiner, Jane, Charlotte, Georgiana and other assorted people — detailing the events of her life from 1814 through 1819. But, you know, while I’m a fan, I’m not that much of a fan. I liked the letters from the first year, when they were exclusively to Jane and Elizabeth was trying to figure out the whole Mistress of Pemberly thing. I really don’t care how many kids Elizabeth and Jane had, whether they were girls or boys, or what rennovations were done to Pemberly, or how despicable and uncooth Lydia has become, or whatever happens in the last half of the book. The book’s just not worth my time.

On to bigger and better things.

Elijah of Buxton

4 Comments

I read to find books like this one. Thats not exactly true of course, I read for other reasons. But the pure joy of finishing an absolutely perfect book is pretty high on the list.

And this book, by Christopher Paul Curtis, is absolutely perfect.

Don’t let the dust jacket fool you, though. It’s not an adventure story. The whole adventure part is only the last quarter of the book. It is a growing-up story, a portrait of a boy and a town and a time.

Elijah Freeman was the first child born in the settlement of Buxton, Canada, just over the river from Detroit. He’s lived a pretty uneventful life, save for the infamous interaction he had with Frederick Douglass when he was a baby. He lives with his Ma and Pa, who are escaped slaves, and the rest of the Settlement. Nothing much happens… he goes to school, catches fish, makes friends… yet everything happens. They welcome new runaway slaves, he has to read a letter bearing bad news to one of the members of the settlement, he has adventures, he learns and grows. It’s a marvelous story.

One of my most favorite things about this story is the captivating way in which Curtis tells it. Elijah is a funny, observant and completely likable narrator. And the book is written in dialect, and, while this usually is incredibly hard to read, it works like magic here.

Just an example:

I ain’t trying to be disrespectful of Ma’s cooking when I say that neither. Ma can fry some tolerable good fish and make vegetables that ain’t exactly horrible, but she caint bake for nothing. Pa would get pretty excited if I showed up with one of Mrs. Brown’s pies. He never let on to Ma how happy those pies made him, but if he thought she waren’t listening and couldn’t see him, he’d give me some big hugs and spin me ’round the room and kick up his heels!

Most of the book is all buildup, really — little snippets of Elijah’s life and interactions with members of the Settlement — so when the “adventure” part starts, and the book turns dark, you have all the relationships you’ve made to fall back on. If it had been more adventure and less story, the book would have possibly been too dark, too difficult to plod through. I was crying near the end; it’s horrible, but there’s no way to prettify slavery. I think the way Curtis handles the horrors is done with tact… and power and hope. It’s quite moving.

It’s one of those kind of books that win awards, that stay with you, that you want to shove into other people’s hands and say “Read this!”

If you’ve never read a Christopher Paul Curtis book before, or even if you have, read this one.

I Have Been Reading…Really!

2 Comments

And good books, too. It’s just that the reviews aren’t posted here. The October issue of Estella’s Revenge is up, and I managed to read two books and do an author interview. I finally got to read Shannon Hale’s Book of a Thousand Days… and thoroughly enjoyed it. (Thanks Becky, Erin and Leila for your reviews… they helped me formulate my ideas. I appreciate it. I hope I didn’t unwittingly plagiarize anyone.) And I also read Jan Shapin’s (first-time author) A Snug Life Somewhere, an intriguing book set in Washington State around the time of World War I. I also interviewed Shapin; you can find that here.

I also finished the two Gardella Vampire books by Colleen Gleason. And — I’m only moderately embarrassed to admit — I have to say that I’m becoming a bit hooked on vampire books. (I should probably stop before it becomes an obsession.) I’ll post links as soon as the reviews are up over at Book Binge, if you care to read more about vampire romances….

(Update: They were quite lovely and got my review posted quick. Here’s the link. I would have done it earlier today, but Blogger was down. Grrr.)

If you’ll excuse me, my (very large) TBR pile is calling.

Hoppin’ October

1 Comment

I love this time of year… I like that the days are turning cooler (well, here in Kansas, the days are still dang hot, but the nights at least are cooler, which I appreciate)… I like the buildup to Hallowthanksmus, the festivities, the stuff, the fun… My inner baker rears it’s head and realizes that it’s cool enough to begin baking cookies and muffins and bread without turning the house into an inferno.

And the kidlit blogosphere is hopping. There’s, for your enjoyment this month, the 31 flavorite YA authors at readergirlz… they’ve managed to nab a bunch of talented YA authors — including Meg Cabot (tonight), Lisa Yee (October 22) and Stephenie Meyer (October 31) to “chat nightly at our group forum at 5 PM PST/8 PM EST (with the exception of the Halloween chat, which will be held at 9 PM PST/MIDNIGHT EST).” Sounds like fun.

And, for those of us not on a Cybil panel, there’s the opportunity to nominate our favorite poetry, picture books (both fiction and non), middle grade books, YA books (both fiction and non), graphic novels, and fantasy/science fiction books for the nomination process. What? You haven’t heard of the Cybils? From their web site:

Like all revolutions, this one started small, with a single post on a blog devoted to children’s literature. The Newbery Awards seemed too elitist and the Quills, well, not enough so. Was there a middle ground, an annual award that would recognize both a book’s merits and popularity?

The Cybils found that middle ground. The public nominates their favorite children’s books from 2007 in seven categories: Picture Books; Non-fiction Picture Books; Middle Grade fiction; Poetry; Young Adult fiction; Non-fiction (YA/MG); and Graphic Novels. Nominations open on October 1.

When we say “the public,” we mean it. Anyone with an e-mail address may nominate one book per category. Then groups of bloggers get to work. First, a nominating committee reads ALL the titles in a given category. After nearly two arduous months, this committee winnows the nominees to five finalists. A second committee of bloggers considers the shortlist and, after much debate, chooses the best of the best for 2007.

If that isn’t enough for you to do… this week is BOTH Buy a Friend a Book Week and Banned Books Week. Hey… you could buy a friend a banned book, and kill two birds with one stone! I’m not sure I’ll get around to reading a banned book this week; there are too many other books on my bedroom floor waiting for me. Ah, well. I’ll have to plan better next year.

So, what are you doing still hanging around here?

The Secret of Castle Cant

Leave a comment

Or, My Chinaberry Lament.

Oh, Chinaberry
There was a time when
I could count on enjoying any book
That you recommended between your covers.
I looked forward to your arrival
Every month,
Perusing your pages,
Writing down the many interesting-sounding books.

But, dear, dear Chinaberry,
Something is wrong.
Either my tastes are changing
Or
Your standards are not as high.
Either way,
I just haven’t been as happy with you.

Take, for example,
The Secret of Castle Cant,
by K. P. Bath.
It’s not that it was terrible.
It just wasn’t all that interesting.
Sure, Lucy, though down on her luck
Found pluck
And saved the day.
But I really didn’t care.
Sure, Pauline went from a spoiled brat
To a decent kid.
But I really didn’t care.

And I think
That’s the pitiful thing here.
There was no real reason to care
One way or the other
About anyone in this book.
The conflict was mundane,
And the “bad guy”,
Stereotypical.
And really,
What was the deal
With the chewing gum obsession?

But it wasn’t the
Hilarious Romp
That you said it would be.
It wasn’t Whimsical,
Memorable,
Or even enjoyable.
(Maybe it’s just me
Being cranky.
It’s possible.)

But, Chinaberry,
This isn’t the first time.
There have been others that I’ve
Checked out on
Your recommendation
That have just fallen flat.
And, I have to say, that I’m
Losing faith
In your ability
To recommend books that
I will enjoy.

I don’t know if I will give up
Just yet.
Maybe one more try.
I will look forward to
Your arrival in
My mailbox

And hope.

Eight Feet in the Andes

3 Comments

I think, perhaps, several years ago I would have been more inclined to like this book by Dervla Murphy. I think I would have admired her, thought her ambitious and adventuresome for climbing the Andes mountains with no companions except her 9-year-old daughter and a mule, living on the land and the generosity of the Peruvians. I think I would have found her feminist observations — why can’t a woman do this by herself, anyway? — inspiring.

Now… I just think she’s crazy. Crazy for even thinking about hiking through the Andes. Crazy for taking her daughter along. Crazy because… well… let’s just say it’s not something I even remotely related to. (Not that I have to, but it didn’t amuse or inspire me, either.)

It took me a while to get into the book — it’s a diary, and those are hit and miss with me. This time, it was more misses than hits. There’s really no story here. They hike from place to place. They have food sometimes; they sleep in various places. They almost freeze, rescued by a native family who didn’t speak a word of Spanish or English. And, by the entries in mid-October I was tired. Tired of her whining about modern civilization (though early on I thought it had Wendell Berry-esque overtones), tired of the paces she put her child through. Tired of Peru.

So, I abandoned them. Sure, I checked the back: whew, they made it to the end of the trail safe by Christmas Day. Yee-haw.

That’s the third book for the Armchair Challenge. Not one memorable one yet. Maybe I ought to re-think my list….

Ah, Bookgroups

8 Comments

I said in the comments to The Traveler’s Gift that I’d give a report on how my in-person book group went… but first, I think I need to tell you a bit about it.

We’re a group of women from my church, ranging in age from late-20s to 76 (she’s a firecracker; I hope I’m that spunky when I’m 76!). We — there’s usually anywhere from 4 to 10 of us — meet once a month, rotating homes, to chat about books, life, religion… whatever suits our mood (last night it was yard work and lingerie. Don’t ask.). We nominate books once a year, and then one woman organizes it into a list, two books per month. The deal is: read both, read one, don’t read at all, just come. 🙂 I think they’ve done a fairly good job over the years (I only started going last year when I moved here; I think the group’s been going for at least 7 years) reading a balanced selection of classics and contemporary fiction. But, as is always the case, opinions on those books range widely. We are not intellectuals; most of the time our discussions are about things other than the books. And more often than not, if people haven’t read the book, our “discussion” is more along the lines of convincing those who haven’t read the book to read it.

Last night was, actually, fairly tame. I have to say that I wasn’t the only one who disliked the books… though I think we were in the minority. I put out, for the Inheritance, my reasons for disliking posthumously published works (and yes, I used that word in a sentence, and yes, they did make fun of me for doing so), which Mdme. 76 dismissed out of hand. Who cares? It was a good, moral book. In fact, that was the main consensus: it was light, it was moral therefore it was a good story. They were glad it was printed; even though I bemoaned the fact that this, of all of Alcott’s works, was the least worthy. Ah, well. I didn’t go to convince people of my position.

As for the Traveler’s Gift, the consensus was, again, that because the ideas were good, the book was worth reading. I was really glad when someone else said that the ideas were great, everyone needs them, but the writing was crap. (YAY!) I gave a very impassioned defense of getting to know Joshua Chamberlin from another source… and then got labeled a deep reader. I think that’s the first time that’s ever happened. I know that over at my online book group, I’m one of the shallow readers, not understanding, not getting a third of what the books that we read are about.

But, really, isn’t that why we go to book groups? (At least that’s why I do.) I go not only because I enjoy the company of these women, but I am glad they pick books that I wouldn’t normally. I enjoy what they have to say, even when I vehemently disagree with them. (I’d get made fun of for using that word, too.) But I’m also glad for the Nook, for an opportunity to associate with people who challenge my reading and then help me understand what I’ve read. I need both in my life. And I think on some small level, even though I’m not nearly the most well-read of the group, I hope to help challenge and stretch others. (That is, if I don’t offend them all.)

All this got me to thinking: Why do you go to book groups? What do you get out of them? What do you bring to them? Are they a worthwhile part of your life?

Oh, we spent a considerable amount of time talking about Stephenie Meyer last night. Mdme. 76 wanted to know if she should read them. I don’t know if she will, but you know, I’d love to hear what she thinks of Bella and Edward. Even if she hates it.

The Traveler’s Gift

14 Comments

Oy! (I never use that expression, but it fits today.) I’m SO totally… Grrr. Let me explain.

Last night, Hubby took the older girls on a campout, leaving me home with Baby (well, Toddler) K. We had fun, watched Dora (she loves Dora), ate, played, and I got her to bed around 8:30. I had started The Traveler’s Gift, by Andy Andrews (poor, unfortunate man. What were his parents thinking?), earlier that evening (during Dora), and realized it was an easy read. I figured I’d finish it before popping in my movie, which a friend said I was sure to love: The Inheritance.

Yes. That Inheritance. I have to say, though, I liked the movie better than the book. The screenwriters took the disaster that was published and turned it into… a cheesy, sappy, maudlin movie. But I did like it better. Just not enough. It didn’t help that the acting was terrible: Merideth Baxter and Thomas Gibson were just showing up for the money. And no one else could act. They had to dress Ida in low-cut costumes so we could tell she was the “bad girl”. At one point — supposedly the climax — I laughed. Um. I don’t think that was the reaction they were looking for. The one thing I did like was that they got rid of the Insufferable Older Brother, and brought back the Father Figure. I liked him; he was genuinely funny (and I think he was meant to be). They killed him off near the end, though. By the time I was finished I was sick of the whole lot. (It didn’t help that they had those notes — what do you call them? — at the end where you get to find out what happened to all the characters. Ida ended up in a mental institution. Serves her right for being a desperate, snitty wench. At least I guess that’s what we’re suppose to think.)

And the book…. let’s just say it’s not been a good month for my in-person book group. David Ponder is 46 years old, with a wife and daughter, who has lost his job. Hit rock bottom (which really isn’t all that rock bottom if you think about it): credit cards maxed, behind on mortgage, daughter sick (with tonsillitis of all things. I figured “daughter sick” would mean leukemia or something important). He’s worthless. He’s failed. He’s going to kill himself. But, no. He gets a second chance: he gets to travel throughout history learning life lessons from dead white guys. (Oh, except he meets Anne Frank, so it doesn’t quite work out.) The back of the book says “The Traveler’s Gift effectively combines self-help with fiction.” Yes. Beware books that effectively combine self-help with fiction. They’re lame.

As a self-help book, this may have been okay. David does learn some good lessons (I’m going to give them to you so you don’t have to read the book, and you still get what you need to change your life. Okay?): I am responsible for my past and future; I will seek wisdom and be a servant to others; I am a person of action; I have a decided heart; I will choose to be happy; I will greet the day with a forgiving spirit; I will persist without exception. See? Not bad lessons. But the situations he receives them in are completely overdone. He meets (in order): Truman, King Solomon, Joshua Chamberlin (who is really cool, but you shouldn’t learn about him from this book!), Columbus, Anne Frank, Lincoln and Angel Gabriel. They lecture a believably disbelieving David on what made their lives great. It wasn’t bad…. but it wasn’t great. It was when he got to Gabriel that I really lost patience with the thing. Gabriel says that David is the last person to take this “trip” (others included George Washington and Martin Luther King, Jr.) and that is was up to David to change the world. Oh. Okay. Then, as an added bonus, David gets to see his future where he does change the world by becoming… wait for it…

A motivational speaker. At this point, I threw the book across the room. I’ll take my self-help from legitimate sources, thank you. Bleh.

(Now to go to book group and face people who actually liked these books. And express my displeasure without sounding snobby. Any suggestions?)

Middle School is Worse than Meatloaf

1 Comment

Mother Reader reviewed this book, by Jennifer L. Holm and Elicia Castaldi a while back (and very kindly she put it in her best of 2007 list so there was a link! Thanks!) and something about what she said compelled me to put this one on hold at the library. (I’m really just too cheap to buy books. Sigh.)

Anyway, Pam’s right. It is one of the best little books I’ve read this year. It didn’t take long… it’s, well, A Year Told Through Stuff, and reading reciepts, text messages, notes, letters and school assignments doesn’t take long. But it’s amazing. Amazing that we get to know and feel with Ginny without the traditional text to guide us. The basic “plot” is a simple one: Ginny goes through school, gains a dad (her mom remarries), deals with friends, deals with school, deals with brothers, and survives. But Holm and Castaldi make the ordinary (a simple request from mom for Ginny to clean her room, for example) extraordinary.

Some of my favorite moments: the bank statement every month. No matter how much Ginny deposits and withdrawals she always ends up with $5. The receipt for the salon and the plumbing after Ginny tries dying her hair. The Adventures of Harry and Ginny comic strips (drawn by Ginny’s older brother).

This poem:

There’s nothing quite like
the first day of school,
with all those
newly waxed floors
and hopeful faces.
You can’t help but think
you’ll get a fresh start
and be the girl
everyone thinks is cool.
not the one who got whacked
by a softball in gym
and had her nose
swell to the size of the
Empire State Building.
There’s nothing quite like
the first day of school,
you think,
and then Brian Bukvic
shouts,
“Hey Banana Nose!”
and you know you’re
back in school.

Actually, I loved all the poems in the book. (Read the one Mother Reader quoted; it’s hilarious.)

I handed it to M when she came home from school yesterday, and she finished it an hour or so later. She loved it, too. Though probably for different reasons. She related to the friendship issues. She loved the science fair project. She enjoyed getting to know Ginny.

As did I.

September Bookworms Carnival: New and Improved Edition

Leave a comment

It has been brought to my attention over the past couple of days that several people submitted posts for the carnival that never made it to me. We’ve tentatively figured out that either the blog carnival submission form was faulty for a few days or my spam blocker eats gmail addresses. Don’t know why. As a result, if you submitted something and you didn’t get a rejection notice from me (I did try to send those out), I probably didn’t receive it. So, I’m opening up the carnival for submissions again until Friday. (And, yes, if you didn’t get one in and you want to participate, I’ll take those submissions, too. Why not?) If you don’t have another email address, leave the links to the post here or here. I’ll be sure to get them that way.

Sorry for the inconvenience.