Sunday Salon: Books at the Bottom of My List

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I’ve seen this floating around (I really should join in the Top Ten Picks at Random Ramblings; maybe when the girls go back to school…) and I knew I’d have something to add. (Of course I do.) The basic premise: what are the ten WORST books you’ve ever read?

Well, going through my lists and posts and memory (such that it is), I wasn’t able to come up with ten books that struck me as terrible, no-good, horrible, and you couldn’t pay me to read them again. But I did manage to come up with a few. Five to be exact. (There could be more books, but most are more “meh” than anything else, so I didn’t include them.)

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte: When I read this, all I could think was, “Good Heavens! It’s a complete train wreck.” I finished it; it’s very seldom that I actually finish what I think is a bad book, but I didn’t enjoy the experience. I didn’t like the characters, I found the plot creepy, and there’s no way you can pay me enough to read again. In short: It was a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad book. And I don’t get the appeal of Heathcliff. Not at all. (Could someone please why they like him to me?)

The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell: This one gets love from people, and out the outset it’s a very good science fiction book. There’s a lot about imposing on a new people; illusions to what the English and Spanish did with native populations, forcing their religion, introducing diseases. And I was enjoying it, for the most part. But then I got to the end! The end is SO important in a book, people, and I was sickened by the end of this one. Absolutely sickened. Killed the rest of the book for me, and I will avoid it like the plague.

Blue Bloods, Melissa de la Cruz
To be fair, I got about a third of the way through this book, and I bailed. So it’s not really one I finished. But, it’s more fluffy than I can handle: all who you know and what you’re wearing, and no plot or character or depth. M read the whole series — she was in the mood for “crap” — and said my fundamental problem is that I’m not a teenage girl. Well, then. That explains it.

Rules for Saying Goodbye, Katherine Taylor
It’s “deliciously witty” they told me. It’s “affecting”. It “winks at real life.” It’ll be fun. Yeah… like root canal is fun. It was painful. It was depressing. It was msierable people. The main character was unsympathetic. The plot was And — oh, yeah! — it was supposed to be satire. Yeah. I don’t get satire. Especially when it looks like this.

The DaVinci Code, Dan Brown
A caveat: I liked Angels and Demons. Really. Thought it was fun. Dumb, but fun. Granted, I read that one first, which, I think, makes all the difference. Not only was this one pretty much exactly like the first one, it was even dumber. I think Brown tried to go for some self-aware humor, but the whole “Indiana Jones in tweed” thing got old really, really fast. And it was so earnest: it’s all real, honest. (It’s just fiction, people. And lousy writing at that.) I always wondered how many people went to the Louvre afterward and whispered knowingly, “She’s down there!”

Bonus play: Hamlet, William Shakespeare: I don’t get it. In spite of my English professor friends’ attempt to convince me of the brilliance of this play — it seems to come up every single time we go see any Shakespeare play — I just. don’t. get. it. Hamlet annoys and irritates me. He’s wishy-washy, indecisive and a jerk. Poor Ophelia, getting mixed up with the self-absorbed bad boy. (Well, he’s not good.) Though I don’t quite understand why she’d want to off herself just because he doesn’t like her anymore. (Yeah, yeah, it’s been explained to me. I just don’t get it.) The play starts out boring and then eventually dissolves into incomprehensible. Thankfully, they all end up dead. (Sorry: spoiler alert.) That part, at least, makes sense.


So, what books are on your worst list?

Library Loot 2010-27

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Week two of my no-library policy, and I’m doing pretty well. Only picture books and one non-fiction…. maybe I can make it??

Picture Books:
What If?, by Laura Vaccaro Seeger
The Handiest Things in the World, by Andrew Clements/Photographs by Raquel Jaramillo
Lulu’s Pajamas, by Lucie Papineau and Stephane Jorisch
Pantaloon, by Kathryn Jackson/Illus by Steven Salerno
The Falling Raindrop, by Neil Johnson and Joel Chin
Good Night, Tiptoe: A Tilly and Friends Book, by Polly Dunbar

Non-Fiction:
NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children, by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman

The roundup is either at Adventures of an Intrepid Reader or The Captive Reader. Obligatory FTC note: the links are provided through my Amazon Associates account. If you click through and actually purchase one of these books, I’ll get a teeny, tiny payment. But, since no one ever does, and it’s SO much easier using the associates account to put up these links, I’m going to keep doing it.

The Last Best Days of Summer

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by Valerie Hobbs
ages: 10+
First sentence: “Lucy sat on the porch steps with her arms hugging her legs and a big black bag over her head.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Shall we talk titles for a bit? Because I love the title of this book. It’s the sole reason I picked it up. It evokes so much: the lazy, fun summer days, hanging out at the pool or just being slow and bordering on bored. But there’s a bittersweet element to it, too: summer’s finally coming to a close, the magical time where everything is hot and sultry and lazy will give way to the scheduled and the rigid and, eventually, the cold. How can you not love a title that makes you think of so much?

Then again, maybe loving the title of the book — it is only the title after all — sets up the book for a fall. (Not necessarily, but in this case it did.) Our twelve-year-old protagonist, Lucy, is riddled with all kinds of doubt and confusion: she wants to be popular like her best friend, Megan (or does she?). She is embarrassed by Eddie, the 13-year-old boy with Down Syndrome, with whom she’s developed a friendship of sorts (or is she really his friend? She is getting paid to play with him, after all.) She longs to spend time with her Grams out at the lake, expecting everything to be perfect (or will it be?). She hates her parents, especially her overprotective mom, who just doesn’t understand (or does she?). This last, best week of summer is Lucy trying to figure out being twelve.

Except it all came off much like an after-school special. I’m not sure if it was too much tell and not enough show (Lucy felt angry. Lucy felt disappointed. Lucy sulked. Lucy wanted to go home. Yeah, yeah, yeah), or if it was the saccharine nature of the story (accept yourself for who you are, and accept others for who they are. Oh, yeah: and being popular is overrated), but it just fell flat on its face. Which is really too bad: Hobbs is dealing with some good subject matter here. There’s disabilities, there’s early-onset dementia in a loved one, there’s the awkwardness of moving from a child to a teenager. But it didn’t work — in a big way — for me.

But isn’t that title lovely?

The Girl in Hyacinth Blue

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by Susan Vreeland
ages: adult
First sentence: “Cornelius Engelbrecht invented himself.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I first read this book when it initially came out, back in 1999. I think I was drawn to it because it was Vermeer, and back in those days I was very much into art and artists. It was only three years, after all, since we had gone to the National Gallery and seen the Vermeer exhibition, which was a remarkable (if crowded) experience.

I hadn’t looked at it or even much thought about it since then — I remember liking it, but that’s about it — and so when a friend brought me a copy, having picked it for our in-person book group, I was more than happy to read it again.

It’s basically the story of a painting of Vermeer’s — one of a girl swathed in hyacinth blue, sitting, looking out a window, her sewing forgotten — as told backward through time, beginning with the present and ending with the painter and subject. It’s a collection of short stories, each one standing uniquely on their own, but work that much better as a collective whole. (As an aside: like novels in verse, I tend to like short stories better if they’re linked to each other somehow.) There are female and male protagonists, there are art lovers and those for whom the painting is an afterthought. There are villains and saints, lovers and merchants. It’s an eclectic bunch. But, perhaps, that’s the point.

I think the most interesting thing about this novel is the way the people interact with the art. Perhaps it’s best to explain this through my favorite story, Morningshine. This tells the story of a farmer’s wife during a winter flood in a small town in the Netherlands. She’s trying to make things meet, while her husband’s away repairing the dikes, and she discovers that someone has left the painting and a baby in their boat. She falls in love with both, and takes it as her personal mission to save them. She adores the painting, finding solace and satisfaction and peace in the simple beauty of something so unnecessary. The art touches her life, intersects with it, making it better. Of course, she ends up selling it: they are poor, after all, and the flood has all but devastated the potential to have crops that year. Better sell something unnecessary than starve. But for the fleeting days that she had the painting, her life was better, somehow.

It’s all like that: simple stories about simple people. The writing is simple, too: not simplistic, but almost poetic; it felt like every word had a use, something which always impresses me when I come across it. It’s not an earth-shattering book, in much the same way that Vermeer’s art isn’t earth-shattering. That doesn’t mean it’s not very nice to experience. Because it is.

Sisters Red

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by Jackson Pearce
ages: 13+
First sentence: “Strangers never walk down this road, the sisters thought in unison as the man trudged toward them”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I’ve been telling people that this book is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but with werewolves. There’s kick-butt action: Scarlett and her sister, Rosie, after a devastating attack on their family which killed their grandmother and left Scarlett, physically scarred, have become Hunters. They know what the wolves, the Fenris, look for and how they attack, and they’ve made it their personal mission to keep their small Georgia town safe. There’s a bit of romance: Scarlett’s old friend Silas comes back into town, and even though he’s five years older than 16-year-old Rosie, there’s an attraction there, especially with Rosie, that she can’t deny. The problem is, however, that Rosie owes her sister her life. Can she really “throw” it away on a romance, when there are Fenris out there? There’s an interesting twist on werewolf lore: some of it you’ll have to discover for yourself, since it’s part of the plot. But, Pearce takes the idea of a wolf prowling and attaches it to a woman’s greatest fear: sexual predators. The Fenris only attack women, usually pretty and young, always late at night, and generally ones who are alone. It’s enough to make anyone question the monsters that lurk in the dark.

On top of it all (as if that weren’t enough), Scarlett and Rose have an interesting dynamic as sisters, and as characters. Pearce takes the sister relationship and ramps it up a notch: they love each other, they’re of one heart, they’re all they have, but Pearce explores the dynamic of differences, which makes the characters develop in unique and interesting ways. It also helps that the sisters alternate narratives, so, as a reader, we get a peek into both sister’s minds and hearts. It made the book that much more interesting.

And, really: what more can you ask for in a book?

Nothing, I tell you.

Sunday Salon: Odds and Ends

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Happy August! Only two more weeks until my girls are back at school, and so I thought, since things have been piling up this week, on the linky side (and otherwise), I’d just give you a linky roundup.

Registration and hotel information for KidLitCon 2010 is up. Go check it out, and, seriously, think about coming. It’s a whole lot of bookish geeky fun. Also, the deadline for proposals has been extended to

So, I’ve finally jumped on the Castle bandwagon. I was doing some poking around — mostly because M adores Beckett’s clothing and wants something like her blue coat for her birthday — and discovered that Richard Castle’s got a Twitter account and has been doing a mystery this summer. Very cool. Did some more poking around and discovered that Hyperion, which admittedly is run by Disney who owns ABC, has put out the first Nikki Heat book. Written by Richard Castle. Now, this may just be me, but I’m not quite sure what I think about a real book written by a fictional character. Then again, it does prompt the question: who’s the ghost writer, and are they any good? (As an aside, Nathan Fillion’s tweets are highly amusing…)

Estella’s Revenge, the e-zine, is back! Well, almost. It’s scheduled to go live this week. Hooray!

And, I found this interesting — beware of spoilers, though: Kristen Cashore gives advice and insights into writing intimate scenes. Fascinating stuff.

And finally, it’s been making the rounds, but as a lover of all things Jane, I can’t pass it up:

Enjoy!

July Jacket Flap-a-thon

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And another month has come to a close. My summer’s quickly fading; the girls will be back in school soon, and I’ll be back to having a more organized day. I’m not sure if that means more or less reading time, though….

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (Doubleday): “The wondrous Aimee Bender conjures the lush and moving story of a girl whose magical gift is really a devastating curse. On the eve of her ninth birthday, unassuming Rose Edelstein, a girl at the periphery of schoolyard games and her distracted parents’ attention, bites into her mother’s homemade lemon-chocolate cake and discovers she has a magical gift: she can taste her mother’s emotions in the cake. She discovers this gift to her horror, for her mother—her cheerful, good-with-crafts, can-do mother—tastes of despair and desperation. Suddenly, and for the rest of her life, food becomes a peril and a threat to Rose. The curse her gift has bestowed is the secret knowledge all families keep hidden—her mother’s life outside the home, her father’s detachment, her brother’s clash with the world. Yet as Rose grows up she learns to harness her gift and becomes aware that there are secrets even her taste buds cannot discern. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is a luminous tale about the enormous difficulty of loving someone fully when you know too much about them. It is heartbreaking and funny, wise and sad, and confirms Aimee Bender’s place as “a writer who makes you grateful for the very existence of language” (San Francisco Chronicle).”
This is actually what made me want to read the book. It’s good copy: intriguing, inviting, and made me curious. Too bad the book didn’t live up to the copy.

The Demon’s Lexicon (Margaret K. McElderry Books): “Nick and his brother, Alan, have spent their lives on the run from magic. Their father was murdered, and their mother was driven mad by magicians and the demons who give them power. The magicians are hunting the Ryves family for a charm that Nick’s mother stole — a charm that keeps her alive — and they want it badly enough to kill again. Danger draws even closer when a brother and sister come to the Ryves family for help. The boy wears a demon’s mark, a sign of death that almost nothing can erase…and when Alan also gets marked by a demon, Nick is desperate to save him. The only way to do that is to kill one of the magicians they have been hiding from for so long. Ensnared in a deadly game of cat and mouse, Nick starts to suspect that his brother is telling him lie after lie about their past. As the magicians’ Circle closes in on their family, Nick uncovers the secret that could destroy them all.This is the Demon’s Lexicon. Turn the page.”
Reading flap copy as long as I have — trying to figure out the ins and outs of good copy — I start noticing that some publishers really get it right. Margaret McElderry is one of those publishers. And this is some good copy.

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda (Amulet Books): “Meet Dwight, a sixth-grade oddball. Dwight does a lot of weird things, like wearing the same T-shirt for a month or telling people to call him “Captain Dwight.” This is embarrassing, particularly for Tommy, who sits with him at lunch every day. But Dwight does one cool thing. He makes origami. One day he makes an origami finger puppet of Yoda. And that’s when things get mysterious. Origami Yoda can predict the future and suggest the best way to deal with a tricky situation. His advice actually works, and soon most of the sixth grade is lining up with questions. Tommy wants to know how Origami Yoda can be so smart when Dwight himself is so clueless. Is Yoda tapping into the Force? It’s crucial taht Tommy figure out the mystery before he takes Yoda’s advice about something VERY IMPORTANT that has to do with a girl. This is Tommy’s case file of his investigation into ‘The Strange Case of Origami Yoda.'”
I just loved everything about the design of this book, and that includes the clever back copy. Too much fun.

Other Books Read This Month:
In Mike We Trust
Donut Days
The Prince of Fenway Park
Jane Eyre, the Graphic Novel
Wishing for Tomorrow
The Night Fairy
Turtle in Paradise
The Elegance of the Hedgehog
A Step from Heaven
Incarceron
The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place: The Mysterious Howling
Carter’s Big Break
North of Beautiful

Running Total: 110 books
Adult fiction: 23
YA: 39
MG: 29
Non-fiction: 9
Graphic Novel: 11
Didn’t Finish: 6

Library Loot 2010-26

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Week one of my no-library policy, and I have 5 holds to pick up…. (Half are for M and C, though.)

Picture Books:
If I Ran the Zoo, by Dr. Seuss
Word Builder, by Ann Whitford Paul/Kurt Cyrus
Creamed Tuna Fish and Peas on Toast, by Philip Christian Stead
Race You to Bed, by Bob Shea
You Read to Me, I’ll Read to You: Very Short Stories to Read Together, by Mary Ann Hoberman/Illus. by Michael Emberley
Timothy Tunny Swallowed a Bunny, by Bill Grossman/Illus by Kevin Hawkes
Harry and Horsie, by Katie vn Camp/Illus. by Lincoln Agnew

Middle Grade Fiction:
Al Capone Does My Shirts, by Gennifer Choldenko (so C can read it for our mother-daughter book group)

YA Fiction:
Revelations (Blue Blood, Book 3), by Melissa de la Cruz
The Van Alen Legacy (Blue Bloods, Book 4), by Melissa de la Cruz
The Demon’s Covenant (The Demon’s Lexicon Trilogy), by Sarah Rees Brennan (*happy dance*)

Non-Fiction:
Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women, by Geraldine Brooks
Beads, Badges, & Bangles, by Clare Beaton

The roundup is either at Adventures of an Intrepid Reader or The Captive Reader. Obligatory FTC note: the links are provided through my Amazon Associates account. If you click through and actually purchase one of these books, I’ll get a teeny, tiny payment. But, since no one ever does, and it’s SO much easier using the associates account to put up these links, I’m going to keep doing it.

Guess the Author Answers

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So, on Sunday, I put up this picture:

And asked people to guess the authors. Amanda got Rick Riordan there in the center, and Darren got Maggie Stiefvater next to Rick. As for the rest:

Row 1: Winifred Watson, Rebecca Wells, Tom Angleberger
Row 2: the unknown was Jackson Pearce
Row 3: Louis Sachar, Eileen Spinelli and Wendy Mass

Next time, I’ll try to make it easier!

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda

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by Tom Angleberger
ages: 9+
First sentence: “The big question: Is Origami Yoda real?”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Two quick things about this book before I get started: 1) I cannot spell origami right to save my life (thank heavens for spell check!). And 2) I have not seen a more cleverly designed book in a long, long time. All the way through, from the cover to the end pages, it’s just a delight to look at. The only thing that would have made it better was if the little drawings on the bottom corners would have been a flip drawing. That would have been really cool.

Sixth-grader Tommy has a problem: see, Dwight — the really uncool kid who’s only saving grace is that he’s good at origami — has made this Origami Yoda that’s been giving advice out. And, interestingly enough it’s really good advice, even though Dwight is horribly annoying and not at all someone you want to take advice from. So, Tommy has asked Origami Yoda a question about a girl he’s had a crush on the entire year, and it’s imperative — mostly so he won’t make a complete fool of himself — that he figure out if Origami Yoda is really real or if he’s just a hoax. In a series of “interviews” and “testimonies” the story of Origami Yoda comes out, and if you’re not believing in the power of the Yoda by the end, then you’re completely heartless. (Yes, I still believe in the magic of Santa. Why do you ask?)

It’s an interesting concept, and as an adult there was much to think about, especially with Dwight: does he have aspergers? (He’s good at math, but nothing else; he has a hard time in social situations; he’s always acting up weirdly.) Or is it just an 11-year-old misfit’s way of trying to fit in? It’s difficult to tell because it’s told through the point of view of an outsider — which was brilliant, by the way: it added to the mystique of Origami Yoda — but there’s some intriguing questions there. Other than that, aside from Tommy, most of the characters are very… 11-year-old boy. Which keeps the book real, I think. And the characters are almost beside the point: it’s really about Origami Yoda and making things work out for the best.

It’s also got kid appeal, as well: C really liked it; she thought it was fun and interesting. And that’s what really matters, in the end.