Book 8: The Panic Virus by Seth Minookin

I'll add my stats later, because I probably won't finish this book tonight and -- I hope -- will sleep too late to do any more reading for the challenge tomorrow.

It's traditional for me to read an autism book during the challenge and a nonfiction break seemed like a good idea. This is very interesting, though I'm not sure I'm taking everything in. I was very struck by how vulnerable children who can't yet be immunized are when immunization rates fall. It's not just an individual risk we're taking for our own children.

183 out of 311

Reading: 2 hours, 40 minutes
Blogging: 8 minutes
Networking: 3 minutes

Book 2.7: A Bone to Pick by Charlaine Harris

I decided I needed a break from YA, so picked up the book I'd been in the middle of before the challenge started. This is the second in the "Aurora Teagarden" mysteries and I found it pretty disappointing. Blah mystery, blah personal stuff. Hope the next is better, or I might wash my hands of the series.

pages: 147-168 (21 pages)

Reading: 12 minutes
Blogging: 3 minutes
Networking: 2 minutes

Book 11: The Wizard of Karres

The Wizard of Karres by Mercedes Lackey, Eric Flint and Dave Freer.

I was awakened earlier than I'd hoped by a force of nature, aka my darling child, so got a few last licks in after all. This is an other-authors sequel to one of my favorites, The Witches of Karres by James H. Schmitz. I haven't gotten far enough in to have a real opinion yet; they've certainly done a decent job of imitating the style and seem to have a handle on the characters, but I'm not sure the places they're taking the story feel right. But I may be impossible to please on this point.

Will do my finish line post in a while, there's lots of housecleaning (literally and figuratively) to take care of.


23 pages (out of 313)
Reading: 33 minutes
Blogging: on my own time

Book 6: Mozart and the Whale

Mozart and the Whale by Jerry and Mary Newport.

I think I read a non-fiction book about autism during every challenge. Not deliberately, there's just always at least one in my pile.

I didn't think much of the movie "Mozart and the Whale," but it did get me interested in reading the book, which is really not the same story. The real characters were much older when they met, for one thing, and already had a lot of life experiences behind them. This is not just their love story, but also their autobiographies.

I had some trouble getting into this book. One problem is that two different people are writing in turn and it's hard to tell when the points of view have changed (this was an ARC -- perhaps they made it clearer in the finished book.) The other problem was that the sections by Jerry Newport were so full of worn-out phrases. It was a nagging irritation.

But I persisted and wound up relating to a lot of what I read. And it was intriguing to read the points of view of two autistic adults, who share a lot in common yet also have many differences.

Like many autobiographies I read, this one sometimes felt too... elliptical, is the word that comes to mind. So much happened to them and they just drop little bits and pieces of it into the narrative, leaving me with tons of questions. How someone got from point A to point B is often a mystery. It reminds me of confusing autobiographies of children's book authors I read when I was younger.

Two bits of trivia

1)The "Mozart" of the title, Mary's costume at the Halloween party where they met, was not Wolfgang Amadeus -- it was his sister, the thwarted prodigy Nannerl. I find that very touching.

2) I can't find any verification of this, but I'm almost certain that the opening of the show "the Big Bang Theory" was inspired by a paragraph in this book. Or possibly, since both came out in 2007, the other way around?

261 pages
Reading: 129 minutes
Blogging: 31 minutes

Book 5: Silent in the Grave

Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourne

I am thoroughly YA'd out, so decided to finish this book, which I'd started before the challenge. Victorian historical mystery, a bit along the lines of the Amelia Peabody books, though without an archeological emphasis. It was fun, I'll probably read the rest of the series.

326 pages (out of 509)
Reading: 2 hours, 27 minutes
Blogging: 2 minutes

Speaking of Jean Webster

as I was, once upon a time, I just started The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society and I suspect the authors are channeling her. Will be interesting to see where it goes.

(I see that Nancy Pearl sees more of a Helene Hanff thing going on. That's good too.)

RIP

One great comic writer has been honored and another has passed on.

I would never think to call Donald Westlake a mystery writer, but then it's not really my genre.

no longer a card-carrying member

I was at a used bookstore today and noticed a huge influx of Orson Scott Card books on the "just in" racks. Might be coincidence, but I wonder if someone else, or several someones, felt the same horror I felt when realizing that much of the money flooding California in support of Proposition 8 was coming from Mormons in Utah, supported by Card. As a friend of mine commented after the California results were in, "The people of Utah have spoken."

How the author of such humane and life-affirming books as Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus can take such a position baffles and enrages me. That was a book I used to turn to when I needed a way to feel good about the world. I can't even imagine this house without a copy of Ender's Game in it, yet I don't know if I'll ever again be capable of separating his views from his works. Damn it.

currently reading: Eye Contact by Cammie McGovern

"She thinks of Jimmy, who came to her class as a ten-year-old, reading at a first-grade level, and who now reads aloud proudly from the library of Captain Underpants books she has bought with her own money. (One of her reading strategies is providing books kids are genuinely interested in, which might produce more diaper and fart jokes than she would otherwise care for, but it's worth it to get a book report from Jimmy--as she had two weeks ago--with booger and bowel movement spelled correctly. 'I love this book,' he wrote, 'because it's a subject I care about.')"

just finished: Mr. Commitment

This book was nothing that Nick Hornby didn't do better -- and is there anything sadder than reading a book narrated by a stand-up comedian and knowing you would find his act almost completely unfunny? - but I did find it fascinating in one regard. The author is black, and there are a few tiny clues that the main character is probably black too, but the book is written completely colorblind. Unless there are clues in the Britishisms that escape me, you would never know it was written by a black writer. That's not something you see very often in books written by black Americans.

I'm really curious as to whether that is genuinely Gayle's life -- he feels and is seen as just British, not black-and-British -- or whether that was a very deliberate choice on his part to project a better world, ala Boy Meets Boy. The utter thoroughness of the lack of physical descriptions seems deliberate. I didn't find anything about it on his website though, and none of the reviews I've seen mention race, not even the one on a "black issues" website.

Oh wait, I just found this profile, which makes it sound like the choice is both deliberate and a reflection of how Gayle perceives the world.

news from Lois McMaster Bujold's blog

The fourth volume of The Sharing Knife is finished.

In a way, spreading news like that is just mean.

Oh, and I was wrong: apprently volume 3 is titled Passage.

just finished: Legacy

The Sharing Knife: Legacy was lovely. Sweet and dryly funny and scary and sad and ultimately hopeful. And full of interesting possibilities still to be explored. I see the point of the irritating series title now: the books are as closely knit as the three books of The Lord of the Rings are. And I can just imagine how frustrated Lord of the Rings readers felt when the books were published in increments, though thankfully neither Beguilement nor Legacy end on terrible cliffhangers the way The Fellowship of the Rings and The Two Towers do.

I'm pretty sure there is going to be a third book; I can't remember now if I actually read it will be called Affinity or not, but I'm betting it will. The word kind of leapt out of the pages of Legacy. On the other hand, Google is not supporting this theory.

I read a number of complaints that Legacy is too depressing, but seeing as how my favorite Bujold book is Mirror Dance, which is sheer torture almost from beginning to end, I figured I could take almost anything she can dish out. Anyway, so is The Lord of the Rings depressing, if you read it that way. I never do.

on the other hand

There is one more Miles book that simply must be written, because the friends who turned me on to the series have already named it: Ivan, You Idiot.

more on Austenland

What I found most interesting about Austenland was the way it expressed the ambivalence I suspect many romance readers feel about enjoying romance. Most romance readers who blog proudly proclaim that they have no trouble separating fantasy from reality; perhaps those who do wonder keep quieter about it.

Though I confess that I didn't actually get, in Austenland, why the main character felt that Pride and Prejudice had so negatively affected her. Her choices all seemed perfectly reasonable to me.

I find myself wondering if it was difficult for Hale to decide whether to give the book a romantic happy ending or not. (I'm not going to say which she chose. Assuming she did indeed get to choose.)

currently reading: Austenland by Shannon Hale

(Titularly connected to children's books, because Hale is a Newbery Honor winner. Not for this book, natch.)

Austenland surprised me, which surprises me. Austen has been recooked and warmed over by so many authors by now, many of whom don't seem to actually get her books. Hale actually knows her Austen, which is surprising in itself. But Austenland really doesn't have all that much to do with Austen; it's about romantic pretense, albeit in a funny, lighthearted way. I was reminded a bit of the story "Pilgramage to Earth," but I suppose naming it Sheckleyland wouldn't get nearly as many readers.

I don't want to say much more, since it might constitute spoilers.

(I have yet to see the infamous Colin-Firth-in-a-wet-shirt version of "Pride and Prejudice," but nonetheless, I love the dedication to him. The follow-up in the acknoweldgements is even better.)

nooooooooooooo!

From The Children of Men by P.D. James:

"The toys have been burnt, except for the dolls, which have become for some half-demented women a substitute for children. The schools, long closed, have been boarded up or used as centres for adult education. The children's books have been systematically removed from our libraries."

No children is bad enough, but NO CHILDREN'S BOOKS???!!!

Book Five: Inconsolable by Marrit Ingman

266 pages; reading and writing: 4 hours





Inconsolable by Marrit Ingamn. Seal Press, 2005 (978-1-58005-140-8) $14.95

I've been typing in quotes as I've read this book, and as I get towards the end of the book and the end of the book challenge and am increasingly tired and punchy, I keep finding much wiser, much funnier quotes. Too bad. I'm tired and punchy. Go to the end of this non-review and read the link to Marrit's "Kid Rock" piece and she can speak for herself. And if you've read Alterna-Dad, I think she would want you to know, she wrote "Kid Rock" first.

On to the book:

"I'd discovered from my own experiences socializing with other mothers that we could talk about just about anything other than mental illness. We could eat braised puppy and defecate on each other before the topic of PPD would come up."

Tell me about it.

This memoir about post-partum depression can be a harrowing book to read--perhaps especially for me, because I sorta know the author and I know she's not bullshitting us, this stuff really happened. But even if you discount 50% of it as exaggeration, it's still one scary book. So why read it? This is how Marrit explains why she wrote it:

"It meant something real to me to hear words put to this maelstrom of feeling. To have something crafted from madness implied a reason beyond it, a purposefulness I could regain somehow. Something inside me was capable of creation, of explication. If I felt the desire to obliterate myself, stronger than the urge to vomit, I could separate it from me by naming it. There was a self inside me that was not sick, that could reason."
"And I began to write."

That applies to us readers, too, especially those who have experienced post-partum depression. Words put to this maelstrom of feeling. Yes, please.

But no, no, no, it's not all about awfulness. Inconsolable is also about "trying to get out of this mothering thing not only alive, but with my personality intact." That's where the funny comes in, since Marrit's personality leads to situations like having some of her fifteen-month-old's first words be "butt plug." And not minding particularly.

Here's some general wisdom about depression:

"When you're depressed you reach a point when you cease to be a rational beingmaking a series of decisions; rather, you fluctuate violently between Success and Failure at every turn. Every moment is literally either a victory or a crisis. You are understimulating your child or smothering her. You are feeding her hazardous pesticides. That Infant Tylenol and Motrin might be destroying her liver. And so you are locked in a cycle of anxiety, which feeds you depression, which impairs your ability to cope, which increases your certainty that you are the shittiest person alive."

And here's some specific weltschmarz about dealing with a special needs kid:

"Our first task is to eliminate the latex from our environment. It's not unlike eliminating the nitrogen from the Earth's crust. Everything that is wholesome and good in this world is bad for my son. Soon we'll outfit him with protective silicone goggles and enclose him in a Lucite bubble. We'll have to wrap him with aluminum foil and poke him with a fork so he doesn't explode."

Perhaps my favorite part of the book is the description of different kinds of mothers. I especially liked Indie Mother: "Wears skirt made from a purse; carries purse made from a skirt. Eats the most parodoxical of foods--vegan queso. Births at home with a midwife; swaps placenta for black CDs. Children are named Bright Eyes and The Incredible Moses Leroy. My score: MEDIUM. I think about doing all this stuff. But then I don't actually do it."

Marrit then goes on to say, "Needless to say--I hope--you've realized that these categories are all actually bullshit." Doesn't mean we can't laugh.

You can see that this book skips around some and covers a lot. It's about having PPD. It's about having a kid with serious issues. It's about the many varities of craziness that comes with the mom territory, even without PPD and special needs. It's real. It's truths that needed to be spoken.

Want some more Marrit? You can find one of the most entertaining pieces from the book here. And check out her website. And buy her book! Now I'm going to bed.

Book Four: Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet

226 pages. reading and writing: 2 hours

Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet. Simon & Schuster, 2007 (9778-1-4165-3507-2) $24.00

I think I'm going to have to buy this book, to ensure that it's available when my son is old enough to read it. A memoir by a man with savant syndrome, it is also (and more importantly from my point of view) a story about a person with high functioning autism who survives and thrives, finding meaningful work, friendship and love. The sections on what it's like to have synesthesia, and Tammet's relationship with numbers and words are interesting glimpses into an unusual brain; I loved his description of why certain sections of the decimal represention Pi are beautiful to him. It makes the fact that he broke a record by learning Pi to over 22,000 places meaningful instead of pointless.

***

I'm going to be out of town for most of today, but am hoping I will get one more book in before my 48 hours are up.

who knew there was anything good about the fifities?

Bill Bryson has been our favorite read-aloud author (grown-up division) since the day I was looking for The Last Continent by Terry Pratchett and came across The Lost Continent instead. Evan just finished reading me The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, which like many of Bryson's books, made me want to cry in between all the hysterical laughter.

"We had the tastiest baked goods at Barbara's Bake Shoppe; the meatiest, most face-smearing ribs and crispiest fried chicken at a restaurant called the Country Gentleman; the best junk food at a drive-in called George the Chilli King. (And the best farts afterwards; a George's chilli burger was gone in minutes, but the farts, it was said, went on forever.) We had our own department stores, restaurants, clothing stores, supermarkets, drugstores, florists, hardware stores, movie theaters, hamburger joints, you name it--every one of them the best of its kind."

"Well, actually, who could say if they were the best of their kind? To know that, you'd have had to visit thousands of other towns and cities across the nation and tasted their ice cream and chocolate pie and so on because every place was different then. That was the glory of living in a world that was still largely free of global chains. Every community was special and nowhere was like everywhere else. If our commercial enterprises in Des Moines weren't the best, they were at least ours. At the very least, they all had things about them that made them interesting and different. (And they were the best.)"

Sob.