Preliminary Edition.
Tallgrass, by Sandra Dallas. I don't love her books, but I used to read them to my grandmother, so I try to keep up as new ones come out. But she's prolific, so it ain't easy!
The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, by Oliver Sachs. Bone dry, but I'm 3/4 of the way through it. Hopefully I can pound it out on the plane.
Who Killed Hollywood? and Other Essays, William Goldman. He's dishy, though this isn't his best. I love his two screenwriting books, and some of his novels.
The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster. Never read it, though I loved the movie. Sometimes these things jump off the shelf and into my hands. Like for example...
To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis. She wrote The Doomsday Book, so I thought I'd give it a try. The title is apparently a play on a stereotypically Victorian piece of literature, which is perhaps a little erudite for what she's doing, but perhaps only just erudite enough.
One Good Knight, by Mercedes Lackey. See how honest I am with you? This is the inaugural book of a new Fantasy Romance line from Harlequin. 'Nuff said.
Don't miss me too much!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Volunteerism
So I sent a letter offering to volunteer at my local school library. I want to get my hand in. No response yet; I'm going to have to follow up next week. I should have followed up already, but I'm swamped. I'm excited, but also kind of sad and anxious that I haven't heard back yet. It's like a whole new life is waiting for me.
Books are like crack. I have two on reserve, waiting--one in the BPL system and another in Minuteman. I have a total of 21 books checked out right now (7 are ready to return, one is, as previously discussed, ahem, misplaced). I'm stressed and busy and fried and cranky, but at least I'm reading four books at once. That counts for something.
Like crack.
Books are like crack. I have two on reserve, waiting--one in the BPL system and another in Minuteman. I have a total of 21 books checked out right now (7 are ready to return, one is, as previously discussed, ahem, misplaced). I'm stressed and busy and fried and cranky, but at least I'm reading four books at once. That counts for something.
Like crack.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
That Guy: I Am Him
Okay, so this is a serious problem and source of shame for me. After all the crap I've given Brenda, after all the ragging on Lynne, after coming up for a plan for a uniformed library enforcement squad, it comes to this. They say confession is good for the soul; let it be true, because it doesn't feel like that right now.
I....lost a library book.
Shhh! Don't tell the BPL--I haven't told them yet. It's not due till the end of next week. But it's gone, just plain gone. I had it on a Friday, in a doctor's waiting room, and I noticed the next morning that it wasn't in my purse. I can't find it in my house. The doctor's office doesn't have it (confirmed by phone and in person). Nor does the restaurant I ate at after the doctor's appointment, nor the library (a Minuteman library, not BPL) where I browsed after lunch. I've been praying that someone would find it and turn it in, and that it will show up in my account as returned, but not yet.
And the worst part is, it's a book that the library is understocked on. I mean, Megan McCafferty is one of the most popular YA writers right now--this book has three bestselling sequels. Yet the BPL system, in all its branches, has only four copies. Of which I lost one. I think the worst part of this whole thing is how judgmental I am of some faceless stranger when I see the "Item Lost" designation in the system. And now, lo, I am he. It doesn't feel good.
And the coup de grace, the insult added to the injury, is that, calling the restaurant, the doctor's office, the other library, I had to ask each of them on the phone if they could find the book I was reading. "What's it called?" asks the middle-aged Russian waitress at the diner. And I have to answer, "Sloppy Firsts."
Somebody wake me up.
I....lost a library book.
Shhh! Don't tell the BPL--I haven't told them yet. It's not due till the end of next week. But it's gone, just plain gone. I had it on a Friday, in a doctor's waiting room, and I noticed the next morning that it wasn't in my purse. I can't find it in my house. The doctor's office doesn't have it (confirmed by phone and in person). Nor does the restaurant I ate at after the doctor's appointment, nor the library (a Minuteman library, not BPL) where I browsed after lunch. I've been praying that someone would find it and turn it in, and that it will show up in my account as returned, but not yet.
And the worst part is, it's a book that the library is understocked on. I mean, Megan McCafferty is one of the most popular YA writers right now--this book has three bestselling sequels. Yet the BPL system, in all its branches, has only four copies. Of which I lost one. I think the worst part of this whole thing is how judgmental I am of some faceless stranger when I see the "Item Lost" designation in the system. And now, lo, I am he. It doesn't feel good.
And the coup de grace, the insult added to the injury, is that, calling the restaurant, the doctor's office, the other library, I had to ask each of them on the phone if they could find the book I was reading. "What's it called?" asks the middle-aged Russian waitress at the diner. And I have to answer, "Sloppy Firsts."
Somebody wake me up.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Linden, This One's for You
I can't figure out where I get off going MIA for so long. Seriously kids, all I do is sit around all day and eat Breyer's ice cream Poppers (the modern housewife's answer to bonbons) and watch Law & Order reruns (original, none of those spinoffs for me). Yeah, I occasionally sit at my computer for a couple of hours and produce some work for my boss, but seriously, that's a very small dent in the acres of free time that is my day. So how am I not blogging more?
(This is my life in theory. In actuality it's a bit more complex.) But what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'll remain sorry till I post more often.
But for Linden, what I have is new recommendation in the sidebar. Linden and I used to talk about how nice it would be to read a good book in which nothing awful happens to all these main characters you like. In fiction, you meet these people, and (if it's good) you get to know them and like them, and then you proceed to follow them through trouble and heartache and misery that, if they happened in real life, would be redefining, earth-shattering, unbearable. And if things ever do get straightened out, it's at the last minute, and then, as soon as your new book-friends are happy, the book ends and you're left to just imagine their pleasure.
But here's the other problem: I read a book once in which nothing bad happened. It was called Three Wishes, by, I think Barbara Delinsky (I don't even care enough to look it up). Some bad stuff happened at the end, but it was all very Meaningful and clearly for a Higher Purpose so that was okay. But for most of the book, mild and pleasant things happened to these people. And it was kind of awful. Not just boring, but bad. So I took back my wish.
But now...Linden, you should read The Coroner's Lunch. It's a mystery, and short, and light and you'll finish it in a couple of hours. And I guess I'm giving things away when I tell you that nothing bad happens, but that's not even entirely true. I mean, Siri has some pretty exciting, dangerous, and even harrowing adventures. And he lives in Communist Laos in 1976, so life ain't all peaches and roses. But he's old, and smart, and honest, and he's not afraid, for the most part, of the bad things that could happen. He can handle himself, and so the whole book is just a jolly time spent with these delightful folks who you can't help but fall in love with. Seriously. Seriously!
So you should totally read this. Linden, et al.
(This is my life in theory. In actuality it's a bit more complex.) But what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'll remain sorry till I post more often.
But for Linden, what I have is new recommendation in the sidebar. Linden and I used to talk about how nice it would be to read a good book in which nothing awful happens to all these main characters you like. In fiction, you meet these people, and (if it's good) you get to know them and like them, and then you proceed to follow them through trouble and heartache and misery that, if they happened in real life, would be redefining, earth-shattering, unbearable. And if things ever do get straightened out, it's at the last minute, and then, as soon as your new book-friends are happy, the book ends and you're left to just imagine their pleasure.
But here's the other problem: I read a book once in which nothing bad happened. It was called Three Wishes, by, I think Barbara Delinsky (I don't even care enough to look it up). Some bad stuff happened at the end, but it was all very Meaningful and clearly for a Higher Purpose so that was okay. But for most of the book, mild and pleasant things happened to these people. And it was kind of awful. Not just boring, but bad. So I took back my wish.
But now...Linden, you should read The Coroner's Lunch. It's a mystery, and short, and light and you'll finish it in a couple of hours. And I guess I'm giving things away when I tell you that nothing bad happens, but that's not even entirely true. I mean, Siri has some pretty exciting, dangerous, and even harrowing adventures. And he lives in Communist Laos in 1976, so life ain't all peaches and roses. But he's old, and smart, and honest, and he's not afraid, for the most part, of the bad things that could happen. He can handle himself, and so the whole book is just a jolly time spent with these delightful folks who you can't help but fall in love with. Seriously. Seriously!
So you should totally read this. Linden, et al.
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