Wow, I am so glad I'm finally done with this travesty of a book!  I found it in my campus library and was dying to try it out ... and then, well, I did.


Mary looking over the rolling green hills of north(-ish) England.  Again with the hiding of the face.

( If marriage is not our lot, then something else quite as important must be. )

Another week, another Luxe book.  Which means, for one thing, another trippy ball gown:


I think that's supposed to be Diana, Elizabeth's young, lovesick sister.  I don't know where she is or what she's doing with her arms, but her eyebrows are giving me Blair Waldorf flashbacks. (Oh, yes.  I watch Gossip Girl.)

( Elizabeth began to see that putting on a false front, on a truly grand scale, was the only way to protect herself and her sister. )

So here's an idea to help me do my homework: make my assignments part of my blog.  An interesting and somewhat confusing idea, to be sure, but also pretty obvious.  Since a lot of my assignments have to do with reading and reviewing, it fits in too well with my goal here to ignore.  Granted, I'm not about to subject any of my readers to my thoughts about Titus Andronicus (hmm ... or would I?), but certainly anything that strikes me as particularily good or memorable. (Important distinction: one does not also go hand-in-hand with the other.)

Tonight's subject of review is different: a short story.


"A Small, Good Thing" can be found in Cathedral, a collection of superb short stories by Raymond Carver.  I read it in Doubletakes, my text for my class.

( She stood at the window with her hands gripping the sill, and knew in her heart that they were into something now, something hard. )

Having gone home for a quick break during this holiday weekend, I managed to finish Little Women - which, quite frankly, shouldn't have taken me this long.


I figure this cover is much preferrable to the blank red cover of my hardback.

( Four women, taught by weal and woe/To love and labor in their prime/ ... May they be rich in golden hours,/Deeds that show fairer for the light ... )

It was official at 10:00 p.m. that the day ended for me, when I arrived at my new dorm after my second and last class of the day.  I am dead tired, and honestly, I haven't really done anything yet.  I got most of my books and am enrolled in all 9 hours - plus, I have no classes tomorrow and will be hanging with friends to boot.  So far, life's a party ... a very mellow party.  Except for the icy sidewalks, but nothing's perfect.

I love being back on campus and reconnecting with friends.  There is a downside in that my English major friends have graduated and moved on, so I'm feeling kind of lonely during class.  Tired of not challenging myself in class, I experimented with bringing my laptop to lit crit today.  Overall, I think the effort is worth it (just don't talk to me about the 15+ page paper I'm expected to write).  In my writing class, I met a new professor who brought a fresh outlook and a different teaching style - a bit more relaxed, more personable; I also met a v. nice girl who proved - as I am forever experiencing - that you shouldn't let appearances lead you on. 

I also like our textbook for the class, Doubletakes, a collection of short stories.  It has some of the usual suspects - Cheever, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, that creepy A Good Man Is Hard to Find story that seems to follow me from class to class - but also some more contemporary works.  I just read a short by Roald Dahl called Taste, a tart and chilly little story about a conniving wine taster.  Dahl writes the weirdest, most vindictive short stories - a lot of them have a mean streak in them - and yet he makes them enjoyable.  One thing I like is that the end result, the resolution, is never explicitly stated; the reader is left to infer what's really going on (I can't tell if this is tactful Britishness or artful storytelling - maybe both?).

On the whole, I don't particularily like short stories - reading them or writing them.  The few authors whose stories I do like and want to read are the exception, not the rule: Dahl, Alice Munro, Cheever occasionally.  I can't wait to take the Novel Workshop they offer in the fall, where I can really let loose.  In the meantime, I can use this class to sharpen my skills at my trouble areas - plot and setting.

Three days (well, three nights and two days) before I'm off to school, and I finished reading this again.  So I thought I might as well go ahead and post a review, however utterly inconsequential and out-of-date it may be.


I feel a little guilty reading this book after seeing the movie (and, once I came to appreciate it years later, buying the DVD), as I usually try hard to read the book first.  So this review will suffer slightly in that I can't help but compare the book to the movie, which I enjoy more.

( I'm falling apart. My mother is sleeping with a Portuguese. ... Prince Charles is sleeping with Camilla Parker-Bowles. Do not know what to believe in or hold onto anymore. )

It's 2010, but for me the year won't really start until I get settled in at State U.  I'm three-fourths of the way through Little Women and gazing lovingly at my recent purchases (and having a blast listening to a few new CDs).  Now, though, I want to write about a book I've loved for the past decade - hence the title of this post.


The cover is cute, if maybe slightly underwhelming - I've never liked that yellow-colored font.  Its subtitle might sound a little New Age-y, but the advice inside is practical and presented in a frank - but friendly - manner.

( Remember, we need each other. When our panties are down and there's no more toilet paper in the ladies' room, it's the woman in the next stall we're always going to turn to for help. )

Just came back from Borders with my tummy full of mocha and an armful of books.  After somewhat careful consideration, I chose a small but hearty mix of YA and adult fiction:




Runaway
What I Saw and How I Lied
Andromeda Klein
Sweethearts
Cecelia

The first three look like real winners - a collection of stories by Alice Munro, a National Book Award winner, and the second offering from the author of King Dork.  The fourth is a bit of a wild card, a more serious, introspective high school book similar (hopefully not too similar) to Pants On Fire.  The fifth is on its way via Amazon, an old novel by the same author who wrote Evelina.

I also picked up a couple movies: Up for the fam and Funny People for myself.  But I'll have to return this copy of People because it's not the special 2-disc version (I have an awful habit of buying DVDs without first checking out the special features).  My desire to own this movie seems weird to my dad, who saw it with me in the theater, but I think I'll watch it enough to justify getting it - and Apatow always heaps on the extras, which I appreciate.

As I'm planning my return to university, I'll be sure to bring along some books to read and review.  My posting schedule will be uncertain, but then, it usually is.  Mostly, I'm looking forward to getting started on the rest of my life.

First, happy mid-holiday greetings to the Internets at large!  After visiting with cousins, gazing at the ongoing snowfall, and celebrating a simple, no-frills Christmas, I managed to finish this book - no hard feat, as it's a quick read.


The cover resembles that of Confessions of a Triple-Shot Betty: the coffee cup, the lipstick, the overload of pink (which I kinda hate).  Also, that girl on the left looks like she has an elongated neck because of the way her hair is styled.  Notice that the faces of both girls are cut off from the nose up - a typical trope of YA book covers.

( I just walked next to her, as slowly as she wanted to, cooking apple crumble in my head, and wondering why anyone would bother to fall in love. )

 





This is now the fourth David Levithan book I've read (yeah, I'm keeping count).



This was truly a lovely, relatively quick read.
( To feel such a longing for his own life, even as he's living it - he wonders what that means. )

I haven't written one of these in a while, and I don't know when I'll write one again (I'm referring to my soon-to-be-busy life as an English grad again).  That's mostly because I've kept my book-buying to a minimum lately, as I'm saving up my money for semester Spring '10.  But I couldn't resist getting a $5 paperback version of Jane Eyre (and my dad even ended up spotting me for it - sweet!), which I swear has been there for at least my last four visits.  Add that to the growing number of classics on my to-read list.

Encourged by this find, I took a long time scrutinizing the YA section in hopes of finding a second read.  I saw many of the book series, both good and blah, that I've seen before - Uglies, The A-List, Private, and the old standbys, Gossip Girl and The Clique.  Then mine eyes beheld the horror of two classics with new covers that made them look like Twilight coypcats: Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice.  Does Heights really need to be known as "Bella and Edward's favorite book"?  And Pride as "the one that started it all"?  Started what?  Great writing?  Stories about women who stand up to snobby men?  Oh, please don't let "it" mean "the Twilight series." (Although it so happens that I helped an older man find the last book, Breaking Dawn, which was obviously on his daughter's Christmas list.  It made me feel good to help this guy out, knowing that his daughter would be getting exactly what she'd been expecting.)

Anyway, I did see several books that piqued my interest.  There's a large paperback titled It's Kind of a Funny Story, which I've also seen there often; that new Frank Portman book, Andromeda Klein, looking more intriguing than last time; and Kissing Kate, a different-sounding book from Lauren Myracle.  I hope to try all of these soon, now that I've take note of them.  I saw the Luxe series, but at $10 a pop I've decided that it's just not worth it; they'll be at my library the next time I come home.

On an unrelated note, I need to start checking out the adult fiction section more often.  I think I'm missing out on a lot of good stuff, and I don't want to get distracted ... right now, anyway.

 





I hesitate giving this book a review, mostly because it's been so well-reviewed for such obvious reasons, but I'd listed it on a reading list and I have to cross it off now.
 

I literally spent the whole afternoon with my nose in this book.  Years ago, back in fifth grade, my teacher had read this out loud to my class during reading time. (I wonder if, given the controversy surrounding the book, any parents of my classmates had complained.  She got to finish it, so I guess not.) Embarrassingly, I'd forgotten most of the story, save for one incredibly heart-breaking scene that has stayed with me - and one I relived this afternoon.

( He did not know what his selection meant. He did not know what he was to become. Or what would come of him. )

 





In my mind, I promised to get this posted before the week was out.  

This is the hardcover version which, while perhaps underwhelming, reflects the theme of the book better than the paperback version, which is more generic.  I was surprised to see that this is published in part by Disney; does this mean we can expect to see a made-for-TV movie starring Selena Gomez soon?  Well, I don't know about that.  
( Makeover. Dev's term for it was reinvent the brand, but I understood what it really meant. )

 





So. It's been a little while since I last posted (a hint of what life might be like once I'm in grad school). But that doesn't mean I haven't been reading! It just means that between decorating, buying presents, and generally getting into the Christmas spirit, things are kinda busy.


But this book was a surprisingly engrossing read, which is why I finished it before Little Women and The Market.  It was a recent purchase, a cheap treat for myself courtesy of Half-Price Books. It'd caught my interest months ago, and stuck out primarily because this seemed to be a Meg Cabot book that dealt with fantasy. ( I couldn't believe this was happening. And yet, at the same time, I sort of could. Which seemd to be how my life was going at Avalon High. )

  Huzzah! After weeks of interruptions, reading one chapter at a time, I can finally cross this one off one of my many reading lists.

 
First things first: No one - I repeat, no one - back then had bleach-blonde hair. I can almost garuntee you that. Also, I highly doubt that there were cotton candy pink or navy blue dresses, and that they would show that much back. However, they did get the style of the dresses right, for the most part, and the intricate hairdos. Sorry, I had to get this off my chest.

( After all, a carefully won marriage was far more important than affairs of state. )

I thought my earlier post today would be my only one for at least the next few days, but I feel compelled to write a little something about a phenomenon that has, in a roundabout way, made an impression on me. It's being reported that New Moon, the second movie in the Twilight series, is breaking all kinds of box office records: third biggest opening ever, #1 movie for two weeks, and "80% of New Moon tickets went to women." I am not here to either praise or denounce the Twilight series itself; it's that third statistic that caught my eye.

It amazes people, especially Hollywood execs and those whose job it is to predict how well a movie will do, whenever movies owe their success to the hoards of women who go to see them. They seem to think that it's an oddity or an anomoly. I remember people being surprised at how well Sex and the City did, surprised that - gasp! - women would turn out in droves to see a movie about - get a load of this - women (and clothes and shoes, but still). The thing with Hollywood is, they are convinced that their main target audience - the people most likely to plop down $10 to go see something their TV isn't currently showing - are men. Young men, to be exact. So they tailor their movies to appeal to the 18-49 age set: lots of action, plenty of babes, and brave men who end up saving the day. (I don't deny that some of my favorite movies have at least two of these elements).

It hardly occurs to the suits that women - old and young - would be another, perhaps even richer audience to tap. And when it does, it seems that it's only because it has a following in book or TV form: Sex began as a successful show on HBO, Twilight is - dur - a hugely popular book series. I can only think of a handful of movies geared specifically toward women (I'm not counting rom-coms in general, since they can be considered "date movies" with both men and women paying to see them). Juno is a good example; Julie & Julia probably even a better one. I recently saw Whip It!, an awesome female-centric film that got a lot of praise for being such.

New Moon, while also made with the loyal fan base in mind, is more or less a typical guy's flick (dick flick, if you will) made for girls. There's angst instead of action, sure, but Bella does end up saving the vamp she loves (otherwise there wouldn't be two more sequels) and there's some gratuitous half-nudity provided by the buff newcomer Taylor Lautner. A throwback to the bikini-clad damsels-in-distress of action movies? I don't know. But it's an intriguing coincidence.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is, if Twilight is what convinces the Hollywood suits that girls are willing to empty their wallets, then it certainly has my blessing. Then maybe they'll start making other, different movies about girls who save the day and kick ass - without having to look like Lara Croft. Or more low-key, thoughtful movies like J&J, which boast well-rounded female characters that women can relate to. Because, as much as I love them, I don't want Pixar movies and Austen adaptations to make up my entire movie collection.

(And Hollywood, when are we going to see a schlubby girl get the handsome, caring hottie? And do not just give me another Bridget Jones movie.)

To tide you over until I finish reading The Season - which is proving to be longer than I'd anticipated. I have vol. 5 already read, and will get it posted when I'm having my next dry spell.


I know I said this about the previous volume, but I think this one is my new favorite. I can't get enough of this series.

( You had a SEXY phase?! )

So I FINALLY got to this book, at least a month after checking it out. My goal of reading the entire body of work from Rachel Cohn is going slow but steady.
 


I must say, I really prefer these versions of the book covers instead of the ordinary stripes motif:

Total meh.


( Perhaps I am a sucky mean person destined to walk through life without Good Karma! Oh, well, I accept my fate. Could you all go away now, please? )