I’ve fallen down on the job when it comes to updating this in 2015 so I am going to try and do a better job with that, and will only really be taking on a couple of reading challenges at a time.
So I’ve set my GoodReads goal to 85 for this year, since I read 84 books last year.
I am trying to figure out my own kind of way of reviewing books still, and find my footing in terms of that.
Please let me know what you would like to see as well.
I’ve recently, not for the first time, found myself reading Anne of Green Gables, and Anne of Avonlea, and as I’ve digested the words and experiences of dear Anne (spelt with an ‘e’) I’ve pondered what it is about Anne that keeps me coming back to her.
I think perhaps, it is because Anne is the best and worst parts of who I was a child. The sense of wonder and idealism, of wide eyed want of a better world to live in, a wonder of the world I already lived in. But yet, there is that sort of stubbornness, that sense of being right even when you’re wrong.
That Anne girl has been quite the companion to me, reminding me that innocence can be valued and that idealism is not criminal, and that our purist thoughts should be protected instead of cast aside. Anne has taught me about vulnerability, about not neglecting oneself, about being true to who I am and my interests in spite of the naysayers.
So thank you Anne, for being the best friend a girl could have growing up and remaining with me into adulthood.
I am sitting here, on my couch, staring at my shelves, split half and half, unread, arranged by genre and author last name, and read, again split by genre and author last name. One thought keeps going through my head, around and around.
What to read?
What to read? What do you want to read? WHAT TO READ? Whattoreadwhattoreadwhattoread.
I call this book shelf trauma. It’s not just a curse caused by my physical shelves, but also my digital shelves.
So perhaps you could help me out a little bit. Below the cut are a couple of screenshots of my digital shelves. How about you let me know what I should read, and subsequently review, next?
17 books in January, 8 in February, 10 in March, 6 in April.
I started off this year strong, and now I’ve hit a slump.
It’s not that I don’t want to read, I absolutely do, but when I look at my shelves, most of which contain my TBR pile I’m downright overwhelmed.
I’m sure this isn’t a common feeling amongst those who read a lot, the thought of never finishing the books you own, the fear of possibly not enjoying those you haven’t read but have spent some hard earned cash on.
In a rare event, I’ve been reading the same three books since the beginning of April. Meg Cabot’s The Bride Wore Size 12, Patricia Briggs’ Dead Heat and Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
As you can see, none of these things or rather, books, are like the other. But yet none of them seem to be capturing my attention.
So what is a reader to do? When all she wants to do is lounge outside and read a book, but nothing seems to be capturing her attention.
Books
1. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
2. River Marked by Patricia Briggs
3. Frost Burned by Patricia Briggs
4. Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde
5. The Well of Lost Plots by Jasper Fforde
This is a book I’d wanted to read for quite some time, since having seen the movie and learning about the controversy. I picked it up quite some time ago at a library sale, and regret not having read it before this.
Lyra is a very precocious, often selfish little girl, but the character progression throughout the novel is brilliant. From someone who thinks only to themselves, to someone who cares deeply about others Lyra is definitely a good example of a how to, how to make your character grow that is.
This books is filled with the sort of fantasy I can find myself falling into quite easily, with daemons and Dust. It is brilliantly written and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I can’t wait to pick up the next book and give it a read.
All I have to say is that YA fiction has changed quite a bit since I was one, and I’m hardly complaining.
A.S King pulls no punches with the way in which she writes her characters, or the language she uses in doing so. She also doesn’t seem too fearful of giving her characters very real problems.
There is true tragedy found in the pages of this book and it has nothing to do with the quality of the writing, which is really good. The two main characters lead very tragic, very real lives, and it’s easy to see why A.S King is a favourite among teens and adults alike.
This book is harsh, but never too melodramatic, and I developed a real fear for the characters as they battled their personal demons.
When Veronica Mars came onto the screen originally in 2004 I was 16 years old, and turned 17 during the duration of the first season. We were then, roughly the same age which means when the show was cancelled, during both hers and my first year of college I was crushed.
Of course we had nothing in common. I’m a brunette. She’s a blonde. She lived in the seedy little town of Neptune where the rich ruled and the poor…well they didn’t didn’t do so well.
But she, unlike a lot of female characters at the time, was someone who I wanted to be like. Sure she could be rude, and tended to blaze forward without thinking of the consequences but she always stood for what she thought was right, whether it had to do with her friends or a complete stranger.
When the movie came about, a near seven years after the show’s cancellation I was thrilled. When the first book came out I bought it and read it in a few mere hours.
Veronica is 29 now. Suddenly she’s two years older than me, but like myself and so many other’s my age she’s still a little bit lost.
Her relationships have either flourished or fallen, and Neptune if possible is seedier than ever, the underbelly making its way to the top and aided by the Sheriff (and isn’t that always the way).
But what remains consistent, from TV show, to movie to books is Veronica’s voice, and it rings pretty clear. The characterization is cohesive with who she was on the show, to who she became in the movie. Mac’s expanded role is something to smile at, though certain other characters minimized showing in the book did cause me some concern.
But either way, this book is exactly what I want Veronica Mars to be, feisty, determined, dangerous reckless, and as always…smarter than me. And everyone else in the room.
It is not a perfect book, as there are always flaws, just as there are in our heroes. But there is justice…and there is uncertainty.
I should preface this by saying, when this book was lent to me by a friend I had never read any of his books. I knew the name, I knew about Angela’s Ashes but Frank McCourt had always seemed to remain in the periphery of my reading life. I knew he had written one book, and it had gained such critical acclaim it became a movie which also gained critical acclaim but I still never picked it up.
When I asked around I was told I didn’t truly need to read either Angela’s Ashes or ‘Tis before I read this book and assured by my friends and fellow GoodReads bookclubbers I embarked on this literary journey.
Frank McCourt certainly has a distinct voice when it comes to his writing and his discussions of his life. It is also a distinctly Irish voice, self-deprecating, often filled with foul language but not without a touch of humour, and yes, good Catholic guilt. He reminds me of a teacher I once knew in college in that aspect.
In other aspects he reminds me of teachers I have known throughout my life. Both real and not real, the Mr Feeny’s who bled into real life voices of English teachers frustrated when I wouldn’t read, to frustrated when I just wouldn’t stop reading things outside of the course material. Teachers who would discuss my potential in bold. After all she has “potential” but she just doesn’t “utilize her skills.”
Yet he cared, he cared about his students, and those cares, those concerns were written about in this book just as I’m sure he felt them every day. Amusingly enough though, he admits he didn’t know how to teach, and those are the moments i truly appreciated it, as he faked it until he could make it.
This book is so wonderfully written, and it’s definitely good for anyone who ever had that teacher, the teacher who cared and left an impression on your, or if you have ever wanted to be that teacher. Or if you ever floundered in your found profession.
Cormoran Strike would probably be a very hard person to like if he were real. He’s gruff, sometimes insensitive, often clueless despite being quite intelligent and can be quite rude. However, that doesn’t stop me from utterly loving him on the page. I know he’s flawed, he’s a pain in the ass and yes, sometimes it does suck to hear about how little he is able to take care of himself as a grown man. And he really needs to learn to give Robin her due, but despite that I love this book, I love him in this book and I adore this series.
The mystery was gruesome, as was the crime scene and the book within a book. JK Rowling’s writing has evolved quite a bit since the Harry Potter series although there was still lots of filler at times and the character growth is quite good. Cormoran is slightly better at allowing others to do things for him, and in one moment actually quite considerate of Robin. Robin seems better at standing up for herself in this book, and still remains my kinda gal with her need for adventure, and her ambition.
This was a big time page turner for me, and I found myself going beyond my five chapters at a time, to reaching for ten, for fifteen. I craved the ending, yet, i didn’t want it to end.
Pardon my French.
But this book, this fucking book. It’s beautiful. Just one word. Beauty.
The writing wove itself around me, bringing back memories of childhood spent in the stacks of my old library, of an old bookstore run by an older woman who genuinely cared about what people were reading and the impression it left behind.
I remember the way a mom and pop bookstore smelt, long gone from the area I currently live in and the one I lived in for 26 years, up until a few months ago. This book brought back memories of the heavy scent of paper, of dust, and the feeling of pages under my fingertips, even as I enjoyed the ebook I wished for a physical copy.
It was gorgeously written, and a tribute to readers, as well as writers and the emotions evoke within us. This book reminds me of time spent with friends, talking over books, gushing over what we were reading.
Those moments have come few and far between but I’m thinking maybe, next week, I might go to my local book club.
After all, some of the best ways to get to know people involve books, don’t they?
A Lovely Little Book Blog 