Book Log: January 2017

My youngest sister has been doing an annual post of books completed, and I always enjoy looking through it. I do keep a log of my finished books, so I thought cataloging my completed books at the close of every month would be a good way to dust off this blog and encourage me to jot down a few lines -- or a few paragraphs -- with my impressions (a compiled list will appear at the close of the year). I don't like spoilers, so while I put some initial thoughts after each title, when possible I'm purposely vague regarding plot specifics so as not to dissuade any of you from reading them. This is my second year doing this; here is a page containing the 2016 posts (or here is a list of all 2016 books, without the commentary on each one).

The included Amazon links are affiliate links; many of these titles I check out from the library or already own, but should you be inclined to purchase one, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.

1) 1/5: Chicken with Plums by Maryjane Satrapi

A friend from my neighborhood book club sent me home with this book after our last meeting. It's a graphic novel (my first?), so it's a relatively quick read. The author is Iranian, and the story follows a skilled tar player.

There are flashbacks (and scenes that take place in the future) as the protagonist is waiting to die. We gradually learn why he feels depressed and why he has lost his ability to play as well as how suffering can actually be channeled into the creation of great masterpieces. The ending is very bittersweet.




2) 1/5: Same Kind of Different as Me: A modern-day slave, an international art dealer, and the unlikely woman who bound them together by Ron Hall and Denver Moore with Lynn Vincent

I don't recall where I first heard of this book. It was late in 2016, and a library copy was available, so I picked it up. Now I see repeated mentions of it and key positioning in the bookstore, likely due to the fact that a movie of it is coming out this year.

It's a non-fiction work, and the narrative switches between Ron and Denver. They both started life in lower-class situations; Ron, who is white, became quite wealthy and he and his wife started volunteering at a homeless shelter. Denver, a black man who grew up sharecropping, ended up homeless, and their paths cross at the shelter.

Ron's wife is the one who brought them together initially and encouraged their friendship. A true friendship does develop between the two men. There are some moving insights and it raises some interesting questions and reflections on faith, but I don't think this is one that will stick with me.

3) 1/7: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J.K. Rowling

I read this script very quickly. Having read the original seven-volume series (by the last 2-3 books, I was waiting for them in bookstores at midnight), I wasn't sure what to make of this play when I learned of its publication, but after talking with my youngest sister after she had read it, I added it to my list.

I wasn't surprised at who the "cursed child" was, but it reminded me how much enjoyment I derived from the Harry Potter stories. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is revisited because of the plot circumstances, further making me want to reread the books. I didn't anticipate how excited I would get in the story-line (I may have dreamed of using a time-turner in my own life while reading this). If you enjoyed the series and don't mind reading a script, I think you'd enjoy this.

4) 1/11: This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett

I have decided I really enjoy reading Ann Patchett; her writing style is one I find very natural and easy to read. You may recall I read her book Commonwealth a couple months ago (see my reflections on it within this post), which had me searching out other works of hers.

This book is a representative collection of essays over her decades of writing. They range on a large number of topics (detailing her writing process, describing early book tours, ending her first marriage, marrying again, applying for the police academy, opening a bookstore, encountering protests when her memoir on friendship is chosen as a college freshmen-wide read, and on and on). They offer a comprehensive picture of her non-fiction work.


5) 1/13: My Father's Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett

The genres of books I read might give others whiplash - going from screenplays to essays to literature to young adult and middle readers. It's not for the faint of heart, but it's how I find rhythm in my days - when my time is constrained and mental ability is at a minimum, I am drawn to simpler works, and as my mind wants to be challenged, I delve into a meatier piece.

This book was a simple read, not as much because I felt overwhelmed but more so because some friends with first graders recommended it for our young ones. It is a simple read of a boy describing an adventure his father went on to rescue a dragon.

The author illustrated the book; I read it on my Kindle Paperwhite, but I suspect they're more engaging in a physical book. My rule of thumb is to default to reading on my Kindle unless it's a cookbook, craft book, or children's book. As I was just investigating this title for its potential, though, I jumped on the electronic library copy.

It's a pleasant read, and as I learned it's the first in a trilogy, expect to see me make quick work of them (the books can be bought individually or in a volume together). My reading daughter is obsessed with the Boxcar Children, but if I can wrench her away, perhaps I'll show her this title. I think she'll enjoy Elmer's industriousness in outsmarting the dangerous animals he encounters, and I suspect her toddler sister will enjoy the story as well, especially with the frequent illustrations.

6) 1/13: Betsy-Tacy by Maud Hart Lovelace

I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to read this volume. I bought it late in 2012 at my youngest sister's recommendation. The first couple chapters charmed me, but I set it aside unfinished with visions of reading it aloud to Brennan; as she was only two at the time, I knew I needed to wait. As she got to the point where we began reading chapter books to her, I did begin this one. She enjoyed it, but then she was introduced to the Little House books, and those took precedence.

As she is caught up in all-things Boxcar Children, I decided I would just read this title without her. It's a pleasant, somewhat meandering read about friendship between two girls and all the imaginative play they enjoy. There are some author illustrations throughout.

This book was originally published in 1940. The internet tells me this book began as semi-autobiographical bedtime stories told to the author's daughter that were based on the author's childhood and, later, her journals (thanks, Wikipedia!). There are quite a few of these semi-autobiographical books in the series, so expect more mentions of them throughout the year.

Knowing this book is based on childhood reflections helps me make more sense of it. The sorts of details you have of a childhood memory are in contrast to how you could write about an imaginary adventure two young girls have. But the ways these two girls process the death of a young sibling, for instance, gives a greater insight to how these little girls processed loss.

7) 1/14: Elmer and the Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett

After finishing My Father's Dragon, I continued on to the second volume. The first book described the dragon's rescue, and now Elmer needs to return home. The grateful baby dragon offers to fly him home; a storm forces them ashore an island, where some shenanigans take place, but Elmer is able to make it home in time for his father's birthday.

It's hard to reflect on this one without mention of My Father's Dragon - there is a distinct story within these pages, but it picks up immediately where the first book ends, so that I find them a natural pairing (who wants to read about the end of a journey without also reading what brought them there in the first place?).



8) 1/23: Staggerford by Jon Hassler

This was the January book club read; it was actually my recommendation. I first encountered this book during my first year teaching; Hassler is Minnesotan and the Minnesota high school I taught at used this novel in the College Prep Writing class.

This book covers one week in the life of Miles Pruitt. Take a middle-aged English teacher feeling in a bit of a rut, add in the elderly friend Agatha McGee whose house he lives in, as well as interactions with students, colleagues and administrators, and some walks down memory lane, and it all makes for an engaging read.

When I taught, even before students approached this book, we assigned a "What I Wish" paper assignment, to mimic the assignment given to the students in the book. There were few parameters, as it was a low pressure way for students to share something they wish for, however flippant or serious, and for us to learn about their interests and writing skill in the process.

Two "What I Wish" essays that were submitted still stand out for me after more than a decade removed from teaching.

One was a bittersweet reflection done by a boy whose grandmother lived in their house for a couple years before she died. It was a touching tribute to inter-generational living, as well as a heartfelt reflection to processing her death in their house and all he lost with her passing.

The second essay, the one that I recall most vividly, was by a student who wrote achingly about the current estrangement from her beloved older sister; the sister had become pregnant and moved in with her boyfriend, writing off her family in the process. Her essay was raw in its pain, and in my first semester of teaching, I didn't know exactly how to provide comfort.

After assigning a grade, I wrote a postscript, something to the effect of how I couldn't fully understand her own situation, but I could empathize; how I also had a sister become suddenly pregnant after high school, and although it created a temporary rift, having a child was the best thing for her - the transformation was astounding, relationships were repaired, and I wished my experience might offer her some measure of hope for future restoration in her own family.

I handed the papers back and never heard a word from that student about my personal comment. Fast-forward to parent-teacher conferences, though, and while sitting down with her parents, the mother reached out her hand to grab mine. Her daughter had shared the postscript with her mother, and when she did so, they dissolved in hopeful tears that their situation would, too, work out in time. We teared up again at conferences as we relived similar pains, and I was forever grateful I didn't ignore the urge to write that personal note.

So now you know my personal feelings surrounding this book as I encountered it with my students. I've been wanting to revisit this book, but I worried my nostalgia surrounding this book made me view it in a different lens, perhaps making it better than it really is. I need not have worried. Everyone in my book group spoke of how well they enjoyed it and how well Hassler wrote, and while I remembered the bare skeleton of the book, enough specifics had faded, making me relish it again.

Throughout the book, Miles is working through his own students' "What I Wish" essays, facing his own tension as he reads through weighty stories:

No wonder the briefcase was so heavy, thought Miles. He should have known better than to collect all 114 papers at one time. The wrongs and losses and near misses of 114 people, when packed together in one briefcase, took on the heaviness and solidity of rock. So it wasn't the poor penmanship after all that made reading these papers so difficult. Nor was it the futility of trying to teach English grammar. It was the way these papers teased him off the road of hope into the gulch of despair.

This reflection has gone on long enough, but the book held up to another reading, and it has made me want to dig out another one of his books that I picked up at a library sale so that I might visit it sooner rather than later.

9) 1/26: The Dragons of Blueland by Ruth Stiles Gannett

This was the conclusion to the My Father's Dragon trilogy; they're short reads, so it was natural to fit them in close together.

In this book, the dragon, on his way to being reunited with family, learns they are about to be captured. He asks Elmer for help, knowing he can't coordinate a rescue on his own. A sweet conclusion to the trilogy.

Book Log: October 2016

My youngest sister has been doing an annual post of books completed, and I always enjoy looking through it. I do keep a log of my finished books, so I thought cataloging my completed books at the close of every month would be a good way to dust off this blog and encourage me to jot down a few lines -- or a few paragraphs -- with my impressions (a compiled list will appear at the close of the year). I don't like spoilers, so while I put some initial thoughts after each title, when possible I'm purposely vague regarding plot specifics so as not to dissuade any of you from reading them.

The included Amazon links are affiliate links; many of these titles I check out from the library or already own, but should you be inclined to purchase one, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.

47) 10/17: A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a Better Story by Donald Miller

This was an audiobook listen. I had read Blue Like Jazz early in 2006 (I remember because I brought it along as airport reading when Eric was checking out grad schools). The book had been interesting but nothing special for the first half or so, but it took a turn for the better during our travels. I wasn't sure if it was because airplanes make me more introspective and reflective, but when reading it again in a group setting a couple years later, my experience was the same.

This book of his was closely tied to his experiences after writing Blue Like Jazz. The story follows him working with a couple individuals to make a movie of that book. As they undergo the project and work on the screenplay, he spends a lot of time learning about what makes a good story. And this leads him to reflect on how those same steps can lead to living a better life (thus the subtitle).

I remember once reading an article about a man who had to regularly change his work password. He decided to become intentional about selecting a password, making it be a phrase of a goal he hoped to accomplish. The act of repeatedly typing it in helped it to be on his mind and did, in fact, help him to change in most instances (here's the piece, if you're curious). This came to mind as I listened to Miller's book - with his regular research on what makes a good story, he began to look at his life and see what changes he could make to improve his life.

48) 10/20: Commonwealth by Ann Patchett

This was the selection for my neighborhood book group this month. This book was just released last month, but you may recognize the author from Bel Canto. I haven't read any of her other works, but I keep adding various titles to my wishlist as different people rave about them (most recently, State of Wonder and Truth & Beauty have been mentioned favorably, and after hearing excerpts from an essay of hers at the book club, I've now added her book of essays This is the Story of a Happy Marriage to my list).

The story begins at a gathering to celebrate a child's christening and an impulsive act between two adults there. Then we learn a couple years have gone by, and that action led to the dissolution of two marriages and the six children affected regularly cross paths.

The book jumps around in the timeline and we hear from several different characters. I'm always impressed by authors who can get me so invested in a character's storyline, only to jump into similar depth and interest for another character in the following chapter, and Patchett is gifted at this. Without going into specifics, one storyline is very meta.

There's much time spent with the six children, both in their youth and adulthood and as a unit as well as individuals, and since I was one of five siblings, it was interesting to read about each of the book's characters and reflect on the relationships that I and my siblings all have had with each other through the years.

Patchett admits this is an autobiographical novel (excerpt taken from her essay, cited above):

I loved my father, and I wished for him every minute of life that his body could afford him. He did not want to die. Still, after he did, I wrote with an openness I had not previously known. I was 51 years old. I wrote about California and divorce and police officers, second marriages and stepchildren. I wrote about people who were like my family and nothing like my family. It was time to pull down the fences and let my story go wherever it wanted to go. I had been a good daughter, and my father had been a good father. He had helped me in every in every way he knew how. I will miss his advice, even the advice that had irritated me. His death marked my growth as a writer, but if I were able to choose -- the book or my father -- I would have him back.

I delved into reading several interviews with Ann Patchett after I finished, and in one of them I learned she dedicated this book to her stepfather; she had this to say:

The book is dedicated to my stepfather, who was always my champion, always the person who wanted me to be a writer. He was the person who sent me to college. He believed in me unquestioningly from hello. He was also a person who was heavily armed and made a lot of bad choices, but he used to say to me when I was 10 years old, "Someday I'm going to open up one of your books and the dedication is going to say, 'To Mike Glasscock.'"

I could never dedicate a book to him while my father was alive. But my father died, and the first thing I did was dedicate a book to my stepfather. When I got the galleys, I drove to North Carolina and gave one to him, and he just sobbed. You want to know what's good about being a writer? That's what's good about being a writer.

49) 10/23: Chocolat by Joanne Harris

I appear to have become a joiner this year, several of which activities require reading (my neighborhood book club, a couple different book studies, and this event).

There's a local cinema that does monthly Book and a Movie events (they screen a movie made from a book, then there's a brief discussion afterwards). I had been wanting to check it out for months, but this is the first one that worked with my schedule. While reading the book is not a requirement beforehand, I thought it wouldn't hurt (and hey, I like to read).

I had seen this movie years ago, and I had essentially no memory of it. As I read the book, I kept asking myself, "Was this in the movie, too?!" In short, probably not. First I'll cover my impressions of the book, then I'll make a quick statement on the movie.

The book reflects on the search for community and belonging and even what true religion is. There's also a powerful reflection on the importance of staying and facing your fears instead of running away (there's a compelling case made that if you run, you'll never truly face your fears and will forever let them control you and cloud your judgment; if you face them, they're never as powerful as you initially believe).

I found the book much more compelling than the movie. The movie is quite forgettable. The changes made for a less powerful movie, in my estimation. The book is told from two different viewpoints, one the chocolatier and the other the priest. In the movie, while there is a priest, the antagonist is switched to the role of mayor, and much was sacrificed by this decision. Plus, altering the timeline of events led to a less cohesive whole. And the relationships Vianne the chocolatier built steadily with the townspeople in the book weren't as clearly conveyed on the screen.

50) 10/31: Dear Hank Williams by Kimberly Willis Holt

This was a pleasant read, but nothing spectacular...at first. Much in the vein of Dear Mr Henshaw and other young adult epistolary books, the protagonist doesn't even really need a response from the recipient - the act of writing helps them develop and mature, both in their technique and in life. As someone who processes by writing, these types of books resonate with me. I appreciated reading Tate's letters, but it wasn't until the climax that I was bowled over. I didn't see it coming and it added a new depth to the book (maybe others would be more astute). I had read this on my Kindle, so I was able to do a couple word searches once finished to better appreciate how the author pulled it off.

I taught a year of seventh-grade English forever ago, and I was reflecting on how much fun this book would be to discuss when students finished it, were I still teaching. The payoff is at the end, although it's no chore to read up until the twist.

51) 10/31: Still Alice by Lisa Genova

This is the Book and a Movie selection for November - I've learned these books are in high demand at the library, so as soon as I heard of the decision, I was able to nab a copy before the holds list was created, even as I don't yet know if I will be able to attend.

I started reading this book shortly after it was published in 2009, and I actually got about halfway through it before I set it aside because it seemed a little too real and depressing; the protagonist develops early-onset Alzheimer's Disease, and we follow her through the diagnosis and her steadily decreasing mental acuity.

The author did her research and clearly conveyed how Alzheimer's can present. The perspective plays out in a clever way - Alice may not realize what she's doing, but we grow anxious as we understand what's truly happening. I was able to detach my emotions more this go-around, but diseases that affect the brain seem especially heartbreaking for all involved, and the reactions of her family are certainly believable.

There's an account in the book that resonated with me; this is after informing her colleagues of her diagnosis and her need to step aside from teaching responsibilities and travel demands, and what followed after their expressions of regret that she is suffering with Alzheimer's:

Then they left her alone as quickly as possible. They were politely kind to her when they ran into her, but they didn't run into her very often. This was largely because of their busy schedules and Alice's now rather empty one. But a not so insignificant reason was because they chose not to. Facing her meant facing her mental frailty and the unavoidable thought that, in the blink of an eye, it could happen to them. Facing her was scary. So for the most part, except for meetings and seminars, they didn't.

This stood out to me as accurately conveying the natural responses for many when faced with grief. I can so easily call to mind the early days of returning to work after losing Katherine. My boss insisted I start with three half days, knowing better than I how emotionally draining it would be. The department was large and I knew many of the members of it, so when I returned, the days were a blend of resuming work responsibilities as well as frequent tears as others shared their condolences and hugs. Yet there were some that were caught off guard with my return and didn't know how to talk or act around me. I didn't hold it against them, but it was telling to see some quickly turn around in the hall to avoid crossing paths, or act very stilted and forced, ignoring the elephant in the room and trying to leave as soon as possible. Those were not frequent occurrences, but it cemented in me how important it is to acknowledge loss instead of dancing around the obvious.