Finally,

How depressing! The final official blog post of the year (I may continue blogging depending on time constraints in interest; we'll see).
I think, as a reader, I was a pretty average, but snooty, reader. While I wouldn't spend my days romping around reading Shakespeare and Dickens, I thought that I was above that mainstream, teen romance stuff (what a hipster). I would read primarily fiction (typically fantasy or slice-of-life) and a little bit of nonfiction. A lot of the books I read were either books I'd read before or books that were assigned for class. I would read on my own maybe twice a week for a total of two to three hours, and I would read on the couch in my living room.
This semester, I definitely expanded my horizons. A lot more nonfiction. A lot. I actually really like nonfiction now. There's been some Japanese literature (Battle Royale and Norwegian Wood, both of which lay nearly completed beside my bed). I like to think of myself as a hummingbird reader (a metaphor that I found in a really great writing inspiration book, but am now claiming as my own). I sip a little bit of nectar from every flower and then rinse and repeat until I'm full. Which is a fancy way of saying yes, I have problems with sticking with and finishing books. I changed the things I read on a weekly basis. I told myself I wouldn't take any new books with me until I'd finished the old, but then I'd look at the chalkboard, and I heard the siren call of a fresh book. And then I caved. I choose books based on recommendations and pretty covers. I occasionally have problems meeting the page quota, but that's usually because I forgot to read during the week and saved it all for Thursday night.
I tend to read right after I get home. I sit on the couch and have at it. I do it in silence because I can't concentrate if there's good music playing, and I don't want to have bad music playing, so might as well just read in silence. I don't check my phone, but I don't think I necessarily lose myself in reading either. There are, perhaps, snippets that completely absorb me, but those tiny moments are quickly over, and I am once again grounded in reality. I don't really talk about what I'm reading on a frequent basis, but if it comes up, then I'm more than happy to do so.

My reading habits are pretty similar; however, I think I've widened my scope of interest. While my perennial favorites remain my perennial favorites, a lot of nonfiction works have begun to emerge as top contenders. I always read independently in the summer, so I can't say that this necessarily spurred my onwards. I think I'm going to finish reading all the books I have piled by the couch, the bed, the kitchen table, and wherever else they're hiding. After that, I really want to read The Night Circus out of courtesy to the nice lady who shot me a NaNoMail (for the curious and for the sake of my swelling pride, I just broke 10,000 words yesterday--oh yeah).

every single day - John Straley

I found this while searching for poems. It doesn't quite fit in my anthology, but I like it nonetheless. I think it captures the essence of what I, personally, think love is. It's not so much dewy roses and starry-eyed glances; rather, it's more about the triggers in our minds that connect emotion to memory and memory to person. 

Suppose I said the word “springtime”

and I wrote the words “king salmon”

on a piece of paper

and mailed it to you.

When you opened it

would you remember that afternoon we spent

together in the yellow boat

when the early whales were feeding

and we caught our first fish of the year?

 

Or would you remember that time off Cape Flattery

when you were a little girl:

your father smoking, telling stories as he ran the boat,

then the tug and zing of that very first fish

spooling off into the gray-green world;

you laughing and brushing back your hair

before setting the hook?

 

I know I am hard to understand sometimes

particularly when you are standing

at the post office with only a piece of paper

saying “king salmon” on it

but just think of it as a promissary note

and that electric tug, that thrill

pulling your mind into deep water

is how I feel about you every,

single day.

The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern

I recently signed up for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, an event that happens every November in which writers try to write a novel of 50,000 words in one month), and I received NaNoMail (a clever way of saying a message from someone associated with NaNoWriMo) from one Erin Morgenstern. Morgenstern was a past NaNoWriMo participant and recently released her debut novel, The Night Circus. The Night Circus has been described by critics as Harry Potter and Twilight given its magic and star-crossed romance. Apparently, it's supposed to be the next big thing.

I don't know if I believe that, but it certainly sounds like an interesting read, and this is the first time a(n almost) famous novelist has sent me an email (albeit, a mass-produced one). So here's a note to myself and anyone else who's interested to pick up this book once it trickles down to libraries across America. I'm looking forward to it.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames - David Sedaris

So, I don't know about you, anonymous reader, but I have seen the cover of this book before. The striking skull painting, the nearly invisible title, and the intriguing lower-case author name. Yes. This strikes me as a book of substance.

Honestly, I wasn't really sure what to expect from When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. As it turns out, When You Are Engulfed in Flames is a series of essays. Thusfar, I can see no common theme. Nothing ties these essays together, in my opinion, except quality. Also, just to clarify, when I say "essay," I don't mean that five-paragraph nonsense (foolishness, tomfoolery, claptrap, absurdity). It's more like a chapter's worth of description and reflection over a brief period of time.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames examines Sedaris's childhood, his close friends and family, his sexuality, his innate quirkiness, and other things in his life. It is humorous and engaging. Thusfar, I have read eight of his twenty-two essays in When You Are Engulfed in Flames (I wish there was a way to shorten this title, but it appreciates being completely said/read). My favorites of these essays have to be "The Understudy," "Roadtrips," and "That's Amore."

In "The Understudy," Sedaris describes a time in which he and his siblings are babysat (that just sounds morbid) by the cantankerous, unhygienic Mrs. Peacock, a woman so heinous that she forces the children to scratch her back, can only make sloppy joes, and punishes by using the children to pick up dog poo (which sounds more dignified than "turds," as Sedaris says). Sedaris's description of Mrs. Peacock and the ensuing antics that follow when he and his siblings are under her care are hilarious and, at times, reflective. Between complaining about the woman with both the imagination of a child and the sophistication of a writer, there are some genuinely reflective moments where Sedaris considers the possibility that Mrs. Peacock has some redeeming qualities. However, these moments are quickly eclipsed by Sedaris's admission that he'd rather think of the old woman as a total hag.

"Roadtrips" is a little bit more mature than "The Understudy," focusing on how Sedaris realized he was gay. Though he'd always had an inkling, it wasn't until he was picked up off the road by a couple in a Cadillac that he voices this. For those with more sensitive sensibilities, I'll spare you the gritty details, but Sedaris is confronting with a situation in which only the words "I'm a homosexual" can suffice. The essay then veers off into another story, this one about a male trucker that comes onto a rather shaken Sedaris. He declines the trucker's advances and chooses to walk instead.

"That's Amore" describes a spunky (by which I mean offensive) old lady named Helen who lives next to Dave and his partner Hugh. She is absolutely shameless. She hates minorities and the privileged. She attacks a deaf-mute at some point. Just a whole lot of old lady fun. Helen teeters on the line of crude and lovable, embodying the spirit of some disenchanted, streetwise hooker in the compact body that Sedaris says is as small as a ten-year-old girl's.

I really enjoyed When You Are Engulfed in Flames, or, at least, I've enjoyed it thusfar. There are some parts that are a little PG-13 or R, so if you're easily offended by some sexuality and crude language, then you might fare better reading something else. But if you're not, then this is a fantastic read. Sedaris is straightforward and clever. He speaks with what I think is the true voice of a writer. His writing tells a story. It's not an author showing off his writing skills; it's not a comedian telling a series of one-liners. But that doesn't mean there aren't any well-written, funny parts. Sedaris knows his book's identity and wastes no time beating around the bush, and his audience benefits from his expertise.

Pardon my French but...

...dangnabit can Miyazaki draw food.

And for some reason my etymology blog has become dominated by movie-related posts? Oh well, there'll be a return to literature after this weekend, since I only go on movie binges on long weekends.

Chihiro and Lilo are one

The voice actress for Chihiro from Spirited Away also did Lilo for Lilo and Stitch.

I was re-watching Spirited Away and just discovered this. Mind-blowing, man.

Misery - Stephen King

Unlike a lot of avid readers, I have no qualms with seeing a movie before I read the book. In fact, I find that doing this helps me enjoy both works more than if I read the book and then see the movie. I mean, the book and the movie are two different things. They're the same (basic) story as interpreted by two different people (the author and the movie director respectively).

Anyways, Misery is supposed to be one of the greatest horror/psychological thriller movies ever as well as one of the best Stephen King novel-movie adaptations ever (trumped only by The Shawshank Redemption). So when I saw it on YouTube, I naturally had to watch it.

The basic premise of Misery is that author Paul Sheldon wrecks his car in a blizzard, and is taken into the care of Annie Wilkes, his self-proclaimed number one fan. Paul is famous for his novels about a character named Misery, the namesake of the movie and Stephen King novel. Annie loves the Misery books. However, once she finds that Paul is not only writing a new, non-Misery novel but has also killed off Misery, she flies into a rage, and insists that Paul bring Misery back to life in his next book. Paul spends the next couple of weeks (or months) in Annie's care, never quite knowing if she'll greet him with a smile or a sledgehammer. He tries to escape several times, but does he ever succeed? You'll have to read/watch and see.

I thought the movie was really good. Kathy Bates really does a fantastic Annie Wilkes, but James Caan as Paul Sheldon was also quite good. I hear that the novel is even more horrific than the movie, so I'll have to pick it up some time.