Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Ray Bradbury, 1920-2012
Like many writers, I discovered Ray Bradbury when I was young--perhaps 12 or 13. His extraordinary imagination and use of language carried me off the farm as surely as any rocket ship carried people to Mars. I think this video of him reading a poem at a 1971 Caltech symposium captures his charm and talent. RIP, Ray.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
New titles!
I just received my author's copies of my latest books from Enslow! Check them out!
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| Who Invented the Ferris Wheel?George Ferris |
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| Who Fixed Babies' Hearts? Vivien Thomas |
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| Who Invented Basketball? James Naismith |
All three are available in both library binding AND as very affordable paperbacks! More about them later...
Friday, September 2, 2011
Look at what the FedEx man brought!
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I nearly threw my arms around the FedEx guy and kissed him, but fortunately for both of us I merely smiled and signed for them.
If dead bodies, bloody footprints, or zombie computers are your thing, I've got the books for you. And, I'm happy to report, they are available both in library and paperback editions. You can order them from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or your favorite independent bookstore.
To celebrate, I'm going to start a series of blog posts about the true crime stories and forensic science featured in the books. First up: The Murderous Beginnings of Forensic Anthropology.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thanks, Mister Postman!
Here's what he delivered today:
(Am I the only one who wonders how the heck you're supposed to open these boxes if not with sharp objects?)
Ta-da! Copies of my latest books, ten each.
(Am I the only one who wonders how the heck you're supposed to open these boxes if not with sharp objects?)
Ta-da! Copies of my latest books, ten each.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
A gem of a book
The Newberry Library's exhibit Artifacts of Childhood: 700 Years of Children's Books was interesting but ultimately disappointing. The chronological organization was vague and often confusing, with a case featuring a 1970s-era book sitting willy-nilly by one featuring Renaissance-era books. And although the individual descriptions of the artifacts were well-done, I didn't think the exhibit conveyed the overall theme of the evolution of children's books from rather grim, moralistic teaching tools to the books we enjoy today. Still, worth a visit if you're in the area.
But I was to be richly rewarded! Outside of the bookstore (which is excellent and part of the Seminary Bookstore and 57th Street Bookstore co-op, so I got a discount) there was a small library cart of used books. I found this lovely little volume of poetry by Naomi Shihab Nye, 19 Varieties of Gazelle: Poems of the Middle East (2002 National Book Award Finalist):
I was thrilled with this find, because I'd been wanting to read her poetry, and at $2.50 you couldn't beat the price. And then I turned to the title page and read this inscription in Shihab Nye's neat hand: "For Senator Obama and his beautiful family. Naomi Shihab Nye, 2007."
I was thrilled, of course, but part of me is sad that Obama (or more likely, some staff member) didn't hang onto this book. I think that he, Michelle, and especially their sweet daughters would love these poems. So, First Family, if you want the book back, it's yours. For $2.50.
But I was to be richly rewarded! Outside of the bookstore (which is excellent and part of the Seminary Bookstore and 57th Street Bookstore co-op, so I got a discount) there was a small library cart of used books. I found this lovely little volume of poetry by Naomi Shihab Nye, 19 Varieties of Gazelle: Poems of the Middle East (2002 National Book Award Finalist):
I was thrilled with this find, because I'd been wanting to read her poetry, and at $2.50 you couldn't beat the price. And then I turned to the title page and read this inscription in Shihab Nye's neat hand: "For Senator Obama and his beautiful family. Naomi Shihab Nye, 2007."
I was thrilled, of course, but part of me is sad that Obama (or more likely, some staff member) didn't hang onto this book. I think that he, Michelle, and especially their sweet daughters would love these poems. So, First Family, if you want the book back, it's yours. For $2.50.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Concerning books as art, daughters, writing, and the circus
That's just a lazy title to say, this entry is going to be about a lot of things, because there's been a lot of water under the bridge since I wrote my last entry. And also to tell you about a bunch of new pictures I've posted on my Mac web gallery.
Last Sunday I drove up to St. Paul to visit Alison, one of my lovely daughters, who just moved into new digs along with about 50 of her friends. OK, eight of them are renting an entire duplex. Nice place with a backyard in a great neighborhood. I saw more of the Twin Cities on this visit than ever before; I'm beginning to understand why people love them so much, despite the cruel, cruel winters. We visited the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. I'm quite sure that if I lived nearby I would be taking classes on hand typesetting, book binding, paper making, and book art design. As it is I contented myself with a handmade book--Pulling Wire, a short story by Barry Lopez. Quite reasonably priced.
The next day we visited the Bakken Library and Museum, "a center for education and learning that furthers the understanding of the history, cultural context, and applications of electricity and magnetism in the life sciences and their benefits to contemporary society." Despite that rather dreary-sounding mission statement, it was really a pretty cool place, especially the historical exhibits. There was a working theremin, the first electronic musical instrument. You play it by moving your hands around two radio antennae, one controlling pitch and the other, volume. We weren't able to get much out of it besides squawks, but it was a lot of fun. There such amusements as the magnetic hairbrush, which in the 19th century was thought to help prevent balding. There was a terrific multi-media tableau of Victor Frankenstein's laboratory and Mary Shelly's study (Shelly was influenced by Luigi Galvani, who conducted a series of experiments on severed frogs' legs that led to the discovery of animal electricity). And Alison was thrilled to learn that the library contains a large collection of primary works on mesmerism and hypnotism, which might be helpful in writing her senior honors thesis
on feminism and the spiritualist movement in 19th century America.
AND that is not all we did! We visited the Walker Art Center sculpture garden (the museum itself was closed) and saw many cool things, including Claes Oldenberg's famous spoon with cherry sculpture and this fun kinetic sculpture, featured here with the lovely Alison.
On Wednesday, I said goodbye to Alison and the Twin Cities for the second half of my writer's vacation and drove down to Baraboo Wisconsin, home of the Circus World Museum, for a couple of days of research for my novel and quiet writing time. Baraboo, it turns out, was the winter home of the Ringling Brothers Circus. If you love the circus, you should visit this place. Loads of history as well as ongoing shows. I feel a little guilty for enjoying the dancing elephant act as much as I did, but what can I say? Hannah Louise charmed me:
You can view more circus photos, including old wagons and a video of a working calliope, here and here. Be aware that many of the figures depicted on the wagons are pretty objectionable--you know, stereotyped and exaggerated ideas of "exotic" folks. (Look at the "Americas" wagon and you'll know what I mean.) There is ample fodder here for a thesis, if it hasn't been done already. My visit to Circus World actually answered a couple of questions I had about framing the circus in my book, so it was totally worthwhile.
And then let me end tonight with a plug for the Willowood Inn, this terrific little mom and pop motel that I stayed in near Baraboo, just up the road from Devil's Lake State Park. At only $60/night, I was a little afraid that it might be a flea bag. I was wrong! It was charming:
Each room has its own theme; I got the western room:
And to top off my really fun writer's week, I had lunch in Madison with Sminthia, aka Jacqueline Houtman, who until Friday was my email/bloggy friend, but is now a real face to face friend. Hi Jacqueline!
Oh, and on Saturday the lovely Alison and her equally lovely sister Caitlin celebrated their 20th birthdays! Happy birthday to my favorite twins!
Last Sunday I drove up to St. Paul to visit Alison, one of my lovely daughters, who just moved into new digs along with about 50 of her friends. OK, eight of them are renting an entire duplex. Nice place with a backyard in a great neighborhood. I saw more of the Twin Cities on this visit than ever before; I'm beginning to understand why people love them so much, despite the cruel, cruel winters. We visited the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. I'm quite sure that if I lived nearby I would be taking classes on hand typesetting, book binding, paper making, and book art design. As it is I contented myself with a handmade book--Pulling Wire, a short story by Barry Lopez. Quite reasonably priced.
The next day we visited the Bakken Library and Museum, "a center for education and learning that furthers the understanding of the history, cultural context, and applications of electricity and magnetism in the life sciences and their benefits to contemporary society." Despite that rather dreary-sounding mission statement, it was really a pretty cool place, especially the historical exhibits. There was a working theremin, the first electronic musical instrument. You play it by moving your hands around two radio antennae, one controlling pitch and the other, volume. We weren't able to get much out of it besides squawks, but it was a lot of fun. There such amusements as the magnetic hairbrush, which in the 19th century was thought to help prevent balding. There was a terrific multi-media tableau of Victor Frankenstein's laboratory and Mary Shelly's study (Shelly was influenced by Luigi Galvani, who conducted a series of experiments on severed frogs' legs that led to the discovery of animal electricity). And Alison was thrilled to learn that the library contains a large collection of primary works on mesmerism and hypnotism, which might be helpful in writing her senior honors thesis
on feminism and the spiritualist movement in 19th century America.
AND that is not all we did! We visited the Walker Art Center sculpture garden (the museum itself was closed) and saw many cool things, including Claes Oldenberg's famous spoon with cherry sculpture and this fun kinetic sculpture, featured here with the lovely Alison.
On Wednesday, I said goodbye to Alison and the Twin Cities for the second half of my writer's vacation and drove down to Baraboo Wisconsin, home of the Circus World Museum, for a couple of days of research for my novel and quiet writing time. Baraboo, it turns out, was the winter home of the Ringling Brothers Circus. If you love the circus, you should visit this place. Loads of history as well as ongoing shows. I feel a little guilty for enjoying the dancing elephant act as much as I did, but what can I say? Hannah Louise charmed me:
You can view more circus photos, including old wagons and a video of a working calliope, here and here. Be aware that many of the figures depicted on the wagons are pretty objectionable--you know, stereotyped and exaggerated ideas of "exotic" folks. (Look at the "Americas" wagon and you'll know what I mean.) There is ample fodder here for a thesis, if it hasn't been done already. My visit to Circus World actually answered a couple of questions I had about framing the circus in my book, so it was totally worthwhile.
And then let me end tonight with a plug for the Willowood Inn, this terrific little mom and pop motel that I stayed in near Baraboo, just up the road from Devil's Lake State Park. At only $60/night, I was a little afraid that it might be a flea bag. I was wrong! It was charming:
Each room has its own theme; I got the western room:
And to top off my really fun writer's week, I had lunch in Madison with Sminthia, aka Jacqueline Houtman, who until Friday was my email/bloggy friend, but is now a real face to face friend. Hi Jacqueline!
Oh, and on Saturday the lovely Alison and her equally lovely sister Caitlin celebrated their 20th birthdays! Happy birthday to my favorite twins!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Books, art, and rain
It was that kind of weekend. The Great Basement Flood of '08 is small potatoes compared with the terrible floods in Indiana and elsewhere in the Midwest; I know that. Still, I had been looking forward to the Printer's Row Book Fair and the 57th Street Art Fair in Chicago for weeks, and I really needed to get away from that basement.
Am I glad I did! On Saturday afternoon, Eli and I picked up my sister and her daughter from Park Ridge and drove down to Hyde Park for the 57th Street Art Fair and a chance to use our 20% member's discount at the 57th Street Bookstore. I have a real soft spot for Hyde Park-- that's where Tony and I met and began our lives together. But I also have fond memories of the Art Fair, not least because that's where we discovered Aaron Macsai, the jeweler who would make our wedding rings. And of course, the bookstores. Just as it began to rain, we hit 57th Street Books, and Powells, a terrific used bookstore right across the street from our old apartment (and place where I spent too much money back in the day).
The next day was even more bookish. Eli, my niece and I (my sister had to work) took the train into the city for the Book Fair. First on my agenda was a talk by Paula J. Giddings, the author of Ida: A Sword Among Lions. Ida B. Wells and the Campaign Against Lynching. Her talk, which was being taped for CSPAN (archived on Book TV), was interesting, particularly her observation that Wells' campaign against lynching went unacknowledged or was marginalized in the writings of white and black activists of her time. Giddings noted that the oversights could be explained, in part, by her reputation as a "difficult" woman. She writes,
After the reading and booksigning, I browsed the bookstalls for a few minutes. It was starting to sprinkle when I popped into the poetry tent to join my niece to hear Maxine Kumin's poetry reading. It wasn't long before the sprinkles turned to torrents, and for once a poetry reading was jam-packed. She gamely read on, if a little rattled, as the wind and rain whipped the sides of the tent, and thunder periodically drowned out her words. At some point, soaking fair organizers ran into the tent and called the reading to an end, saying that they would have to turn off the power and get us to a safer place. As I was leaving the tent, I couldn't help but notice that all of the tents had metal spikes in the middle, surely tempting targets for Zeus's lightening bolts.
There was so much that I missed at the book fair: my pal Beth Finke; Chicago Tribune Young Adult Book Prize recipient S.E. Hinton; Marianne Wiggins, who wrote Evidence of Things Unseen, one of my favorite books ever and more recently The Shadow Catcher, which will probably be one of my favorites when I get around to reading it. But all in all, a great bookish weekend.
On the drive home, we had to detour around a section of I-57. The reason, I found out when I got home, was downed power lines due to a tornado touch-down. Enough already!
Am I glad I did! On Saturday afternoon, Eli and I picked up my sister and her daughter from Park Ridge and drove down to Hyde Park for the 57th Street Art Fair and a chance to use our 20% member's discount at the 57th Street Bookstore. I have a real soft spot for Hyde Park-- that's where Tony and I met and began our lives together. But I also have fond memories of the Art Fair, not least because that's where we discovered Aaron Macsai, the jeweler who would make our wedding rings. And of course, the bookstores. Just as it began to rain, we hit 57th Street Books, and Powells, a terrific used bookstore right across the street from our old apartment (and place where I spent too much money back in the day).
The next day was even more bookish. Eli, my niece and I (my sister had to work) took the train into the city for the Book Fair. First on my agenda was a talk by Paula J. Giddings, the author of Ida: A Sword Among Lions. Ida B. Wells and the Campaign Against Lynching. Her talk, which was being taped for CSPAN (archived on Book TV), was interesting, particularly her observation that Wells' campaign against lynching went unacknowledged or was marginalized in the writings of white and black activists of her time. Giddings noted that the oversights could be explained, in part, by her reputation as a "difficult" woman. She writes,
Wells was certainly that, even when taking into account the double standard applied to assertive, independent women. During the latter period of her life, Wells was more militant than all of the reform figures mentioned above and publicly crossed swords with them...On the other hand, history books are filled with the names of combative and highly individualistic people...I concluded that Wells's legacy was the victim of those same progressive movements of which she was a part. Predominantly white reform organizations could never subscribe to her views about race; those with race-based agendas, sucha s the NAACP, the NACW, and to a lesser extent the Urban League, could not accommodate her views regarding leadership and class.
After the reading and booksigning, I browsed the bookstalls for a few minutes. It was starting to sprinkle when I popped into the poetry tent to join my niece to hear Maxine Kumin's poetry reading. It wasn't long before the sprinkles turned to torrents, and for once a poetry reading was jam-packed. She gamely read on, if a little rattled, as the wind and rain whipped the sides of the tent, and thunder periodically drowned out her words. At some point, soaking fair organizers ran into the tent and called the reading to an end, saying that they would have to turn off the power and get us to a safer place. As I was leaving the tent, I couldn't help but notice that all of the tents had metal spikes in the middle, surely tempting targets for Zeus's lightening bolts.
There was so much that I missed at the book fair: my pal Beth Finke; Chicago Tribune Young Adult Book Prize recipient S.E. Hinton; Marianne Wiggins, who wrote Evidence of Things Unseen, one of my favorite books ever and more recently The Shadow Catcher, which will probably be one of my favorites when I get around to reading it. But all in all, a great bookish weekend.
On the drive home, we had to detour around a section of I-57. The reason, I found out when I got home, was downed power lines due to a tornado touch-down. Enough already!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
ALA awards, books, disillusionment (not all related)
I always look forward to the announcement of the ALA awards--the Grammys/Emmys/Oscars of kidlit, but without all the fanfare, beautiful costumes, and witty comments. Oh yeah, a lot like the Grammys/Emmys/Oscars this year! I haven't read any of this year's winners, much less the honor books, but I've now added a pile of books to my to-read list. Plus, they always give me added encouragement in my own writing. I'm having a lot of fun right now with my sci-fi/caper/road trip novel, something I promised myself I'd finished after my sad and intense first novel (now in revisions). I don't know if the sci-fi novel is any good yet, but I'm having a lot of fun with it.
Right now I'm reading Michael Ondaatjie's Divisadero. What a terrific writer he is, and one of the things that really impresses me is that it is nothing like The English Patient, which in turn is nothing like In the Skin of a Lion (these are the only books I've read by Ondaatjie). OK, well, there stylistic similarities, but thematically, they all seem quite different to me. I guess the thing that ties them all together is his wonderful attention to character.
I also recently picked up Sara Paretsky' writing memoir, Writing in an Age of Silence (I was looking for her newest books, Bleeding Kansas, which Borders did not have. Bad, bad, Borders!) Paretsky is the author of the V I Warshawski detective series. I've enjoyed reading her books over the years, not only because I like her writing and her protagonists' commitment to social justice issues, but also because I have some curious connections to the author. Her father, David Paretsky, was one of my microbiology professors at the University of Kansas. I knew him as a genial, kind man who seemed to take a real interest in his students.
He used to call me "Sally," because he said that was his nickname for his daughter, also named Sara, which I thought was kind of touching. I think at the time I knew him, she may have just have been writing or published her first V I Warshawski novel. Not only that, but her brother, Jonathon, was my German T.A. for two semesters. But that is not all. When I met Tony at the University of Chicago, I learned that one of the physicists in the department was married to Sara Paretsky. I met her, briefly, at a departmental party. She probably doesn't remember me, or my mention of my connection with her father and brother, but I remembered her, and when David died several years ago from Alzheimer's disease, I wrote her a note expressing my sympathy.
So it was with interest, and great sadness, that I read Sara's memoir. It seems that the public David Paretsky I knew was nothing like the mercurial and belittling father Sara Paretsky knew. One girl with four brothers, she alone was not allowed to attend a private school; it was apparently expected that she might become a secretary, if that. She became successful in spite of, not because of, her family.
I suppose it's worth noting that she grew up in a very different time. Yes, we both grew up in Kansas, but those twenty-three years that separate us represent tremendous advances in attitudes towards women. But he was very progressive in civil rights issues--especially in the 1970s, when the University of Kansas was more politically inflammatory than most other schools. But not so progressive, it seems, when it came to his family.
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Now playing: "HONEY,DON'T LEAVE L.A." - JAMES TAYLOR
via FoxyTunes
Right now I'm reading Michael Ondaatjie's Divisadero. What a terrific writer he is, and one of the things that really impresses me is that it is nothing like The English Patient, which in turn is nothing like In the Skin of a Lion (these are the only books I've read by Ondaatjie). OK, well, there stylistic similarities, but thematically, they all seem quite different to me. I guess the thing that ties them all together is his wonderful attention to character.
I also recently picked up Sara Paretsky' writing memoir, Writing in an Age of Silence (I was looking for her newest books, Bleeding Kansas, which Borders did not have. Bad, bad, Borders!) Paretsky is the author of the V I Warshawski detective series. I've enjoyed reading her books over the years, not only because I like her writing and her protagonists' commitment to social justice issues, but also because I have some curious connections to the author. Her father, David Paretsky, was one of my microbiology professors at the University of Kansas. I knew him as a genial, kind man who seemed to take a real interest in his students.
He used to call me "Sally," because he said that was his nickname for his daughter, also named Sara, which I thought was kind of touching. I think at the time I knew him, she may have just have been writing or published her first V I Warshawski novel. Not only that, but her brother, Jonathon, was my German T.A. for two semesters. But that is not all. When I met Tony at the University of Chicago, I learned that one of the physicists in the department was married to Sara Paretsky. I met her, briefly, at a departmental party. She probably doesn't remember me, or my mention of my connection with her father and brother, but I remembered her, and when David died several years ago from Alzheimer's disease, I wrote her a note expressing my sympathy.
So it was with interest, and great sadness, that I read Sara's memoir. It seems that the public David Paretsky I knew was nothing like the mercurial and belittling father Sara Paretsky knew. One girl with four brothers, she alone was not allowed to attend a private school; it was apparently expected that she might become a secretary, if that. She became successful in spite of, not because of, her family.
I suppose it's worth noting that she grew up in a very different time. Yes, we both grew up in Kansas, but those twenty-three years that separate us represent tremendous advances in attitudes towards women. But he was very progressive in civil rights issues--especially in the 1970s, when the University of Kansas was more politically inflammatory than most other schools. But not so progressive, it seems, when it came to his family.
----------------
Now playing: "HONEY,DON'T LEAVE L.A." - JAMES TAYLOR
via FoxyTunes
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Library love
I'm writing this at what may very well become my new "downtown office." Which in the past was a fancy way of saying "Aroma Coffee." But table space, comfy chairs, and electrical outlets are in plentiful supply at my new downtown office, not to mention reference materials and librarians. Soon there will be a coffee shop ("Latte da!") and WiFi access.
Yep, the new Champaign Public Library just opened its doors to the public on Sunday afternoon, and it's splendid! Light and airy, with walls made from bamboo (fast-growing, and so a good alternative to hardwood) and energy-saving features, it has tons more space, computers and a much larger collection. Conference rooms and quiet study rooms. The children's section is bright and friendly, with a story room and discovery area and a help desk that does double duty as a light show. There's a separate teen room with YA books, computers and a Wii.
My library scientist friend and running buddy Joan was in town on Sunday, so we decided to pop in on the library's grand opening in the middle of our run, hot and sweaty as we were.
We were stunned. It was mobbed! People of all ages. It was like a party. And people were using the library, not just gawking. The checkout lines must have been 20 people long. I'm telling you, it brought tears to my eyes to see this much enthusiasm about a new library. Joan, too, and as a library geek she also appreciated getting to see the state-of-the-art book sorting room.
My downtown office experience will be complete when the coffee shop downstairs opens and their WiFi is installed.
Yep, the new Champaign Public Library just opened its doors to the public on Sunday afternoon, and it's splendid! Light and airy, with walls made from bamboo (fast-growing, and so a good alternative to hardwood) and energy-saving features, it has tons more space, computers and a much larger collection. Conference rooms and quiet study rooms. The children's section is bright and friendly, with a story room and discovery area and a help desk that does double duty as a light show. There's a separate teen room with YA books, computers and a Wii.
My library scientist friend and running buddy Joan was in town on Sunday, so we decided to pop in on the library's grand opening in the middle of our run, hot and sweaty as we were.
We were stunned. It was mobbed! People of all ages. It was like a party. And people were using the library, not just gawking. The checkout lines must have been 20 people long. I'm telling you, it brought tears to my eyes to see this much enthusiasm about a new library. Joan, too, and as a library geek she also appreciated getting to see the state-of-the-art book sorting room.
My downtown office experience will be complete when the coffee shop downstairs opens and their WiFi is installed.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Travel writing
I'm writing this on the plane as I head home from the second of three Wednesday to Sunday (or Thursday to Monday) travel weekends in a row. And while it seems ungrateful and uncaring, to say the least, to complain about spending so much time on the road when the first long weekend was spent on a Roman Holiday with my newly 50-year old husband, this weekend with my daughter while she was in the hospital with pneumonia (she's better now, thanks for asking, and recovering at home), and the coming weekend eating turkey and hanging out with our Minnesota friends, I have to say that I'll be glad when I can stay home for, say, four days in a row. Because having turned in Volcano Scientists, I have this little thing called revisions for my Antarctic Scientists book to do.
(Picking up now at home, because obviously I couldn't post on the plane.)
That said, while it was difficult to do much real revision work past the first chapter, I did get a chance to catch up on some reading. I finally got around to reading The Book Thief, by Makus Zusak, which was a Michael A. Printz Honor book for 2007 (a young adult literature award, named for a Topeka, Kansas librarian, who knew?). One of those wonderful, moving books with three-dimensional people who love and and hate and transgress and sometimes forgive. Narrated by Death, who is really not as bad as we make him out to be ("Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me."), and he guides through a whole lot of bad stuff through the Holocaust. It was one of those books where I found myself trying to hide my tears in the hotel restaurant, on the plane, or in my room not at all. It was also one of those books where I found myself reading shorter and shorter increments as I neared the end; partly because I didn't want it to end and partly because I was afraid of what I'd read.
Just read it. At the risk of sounding like Death, trust me. I think it will be added to my top 25 books for our Latta/Liss top 100 fave list. Something will have to go in its stead.
----------------
Now playing: Joni Mitchell - Answer Me My Love
via FoxyTunes
And then, in completely different vein, I read Dairy Queen, by Catherine Gilbert Murdock, all in a day's trip. Here are some things I loved about the book: it gives a pretty good description of life on a small family farm. The narrator, D.J., is 15 and 16 in the book, and she knows how to milk cows and rake and bale hay. She takes over the farm, basically, when her dad develops problems with his hip. Why don't we get more books about kids who live on farms?
Well, why don't more people like me, who grew up on farms and know a thing or two about rural life, write about it?
That's a good question. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that some of us, well, me, wanted to put that part of their lives behind them, no matter the cost. That life bears re-visiting, I think.
I love the fact that she decides to go out for football, bucking all traditions in her small town, if not in her football-start family of men.
I love the fact that she flunked English and doesn't read much. I think that too often YA writers find themselves writing about young misfits who loved to read...oh, wait, that would be us, the writers, huh.
And I loved the fact that a large part of the book deals with the fact that her family does not know to talk about their problems, keeping silent about their wants/needs/thoughts until it's too late. I think this is a large, and largely unadressed problem, especially in rural families. We just didn't talk about feelings or any of that crap much, it just wasn't done.
What I didn't love...well the writing was not especially spectacular, although it was fine. And I think that her mom and dad had some issues that were left too much up in the air, even leaving open the chance for a sequel (which there is). But these are minor things, and if you're looking for something to appeal to a rural readership, this is a good bet.
And I think I should know.
----------------
Now playing: Shawn Colvin - Twilight
via FoxyTunes
(Picking up now at home, because obviously I couldn't post on the plane.)
That said, while it was difficult to do much real revision work past the first chapter, I did get a chance to catch up on some reading. I finally got around to reading The Book Thief, by Makus Zusak, which was a Michael A. Printz Honor book for 2007 (a young adult literature award, named for a Topeka, Kansas librarian, who knew?). One of those wonderful, moving books with three-dimensional people who love and and hate and transgress and sometimes forgive. Narrated by Death, who is really not as bad as we make him out to be ("Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me."), and he guides through a whole lot of bad stuff through the Holocaust. It was one of those books where I found myself trying to hide my tears in the hotel restaurant, on the plane, or in my room not at all. It was also one of those books where I found myself reading shorter and shorter increments as I neared the end; partly because I didn't want it to end and partly because I was afraid of what I'd read.
Just read it. At the risk of sounding like Death, trust me. I think it will be added to my top 25 books for our Latta/Liss top 100 fave list. Something will have to go in its stead.
----------------
Now playing: Joni Mitchell - Answer Me My Love
via FoxyTunes
And then, in completely different vein, I read Dairy Queen, by Catherine Gilbert Murdock, all in a day's trip. Here are some things I loved about the book: it gives a pretty good description of life on a small family farm. The narrator, D.J., is 15 and 16 in the book, and she knows how to milk cows and rake and bale hay. She takes over the farm, basically, when her dad develops problems with his hip. Why don't we get more books about kids who live on farms?
Well, why don't more people like me, who grew up on farms and know a thing or two about rural life, write about it?
That's a good question. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that some of us, well, me, wanted to put that part of their lives behind them, no matter the cost. That life bears re-visiting, I think.
I love the fact that she decides to go out for football, bucking all traditions in her small town, if not in her football-start family of men.
I love the fact that she flunked English and doesn't read much. I think that too often YA writers find themselves writing about young misfits who loved to read...oh, wait, that would be us, the writers, huh.
And I loved the fact that a large part of the book deals with the fact that her family does not know to talk about their problems, keeping silent about their wants/needs/thoughts until it's too late. I think this is a large, and largely unadressed problem, especially in rural families. We just didn't talk about feelings or any of that crap much, it just wasn't done.
What I didn't love...well the writing was not especially spectacular, although it was fine. And I think that her mom and dad had some issues that were left too much up in the air, even leaving open the chance for a sequel (which there is). But these are minor things, and if you're looking for something to appeal to a rural readership, this is a good bet.
And I think I should know.
----------------
Now playing: Shawn Colvin - Twilight
via FoxyTunes
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Nonfiction=vegetables, fiction=dessert?
The August 25-31 issue of the New Scientist has a special section on science in fiction (not science fiction), including reviews of new books by Richard Powers, Alan Lightman, and Andrea Barrett, three writers I admire greatly. There is also an essay written by Rebecca Goldstein, a philosopher of science. Her novels include The Mind-Body Problem, Strange Attractors, and Properties of Light, none of which I've read but sound interesting.
She writes,
Fortunately, Goldstein goes on to write that she's come to view fiction and non-fiction a little differently:
She writes,
While I always loved fiction, as a child I thought of it as frivolous, pure make-believe. When I was given my first library card at the age of 6, I even made a rule to try to keep the seductive things from enchanting me too thoroughly and making me go soft-brained.Obviously, as one who writes about science for kids, this disturbs me. Aside from the fact that the writer imposed this rule on herself at the age of six (six!), I'm dismayed by just how early we absorb the lesson that nonfiction is good for you, like brussels sprouts, and fiction is just candy. Where do we get these ideas? Is it because kids' science books aren't as well written as fiction? Is it because learning about the natural world seems too much like school?
Every time I visited the library I allowed myself to take out one work of fiction. To balance it, I had to take out a book that was good for me, something I could learn from. I forbade myself from reading the storybook before completing the good-for-me book.
Fortunately, Goldstein goes on to write that she's come to view fiction and non-fiction a little differently:
I have come to believe, over the years, that literary fiction is remarkably suited to grappling--as philosophy and science grapple--with the difficulties of reconciling objective truth with inner points of view.What do you think? Is nonfiction your vegetable (not to diss vegetables, you know I love 'em!) or your dessert?
Friday, August 17, 2007
The Road
I finished the latest Harry Potter book at Lake Tahoe (I'm with the epilogue haters, but was pretty happy with it otherwise) as well as the other book I was reading: Arc of Justice: A Saga of Race, Murder, and Civil Rights in the Jazz Age--an excellent account of racism and murder in Detroit, 1925. The book really clarifies the way in which racist fears developed in the industrial North after WW1; Clarence Darrow took on the case shortly after the Scopes Monkey trial and won. Even though I've done tons of research for my YA novel in progress, about a white boy who witnesses a lynching in Indiana, 1925, I find it continually rewarding to read nonfiction about race relations in the early 20th century. It's easy to forget just how socially acceptable overt racism was at that time, not just in the South but in the North as well. And I guess reading these accounts keeps reminding me that my story is worth sticking with, after all these years.
Alert readers will note that the title of this post was "The Road," that being the title of Cormac McCarthy's latest novel. I got sidetracked because I was telling you that I had finished both of my books on the Lake Tahoe trip, and I needed a new book to read. I had initially resisted reading The Road, despite glowing, even gushing reviews. I had tried to read the first book of McCarthy's Border trilogy--The Crossing, I think, and found it slow-going and terribly pretentious, and never finished it. I have known several cowboys, and NONE of them talked the way McCarthy's cowboys talked. But I was at a bookstore in the Las Vegas airport, where the slot machines are plentiful and excellent, if you like that sort of thing, but the bookstores are perfunctory. So I bought The Road, and I'm telling you, it's the bleakest book I have ever whipped my way through. In case you hadn't read about it, it's about a father and son making their way across a post-Apocolyptic America, in which they scavenge food and defend themselves against the other few survivors in search of a good source of protein.
But it's also about a father's deep love for his son, and hope that flies in the face of all logic and evidence, and that's what kept me reading. Now I understand all the hype about the book--and I guess I'm glad that the Las Vegas airport bookstore had little else to offer. Because I hit the jackpot with this one.
Alert readers will note that the title of this post was "The Road," that being the title of Cormac McCarthy's latest novel. I got sidetracked because I was telling you that I had finished both of my books on the Lake Tahoe trip, and I needed a new book to read. I had initially resisted reading The Road, despite glowing, even gushing reviews. I had tried to read the first book of McCarthy's Border trilogy--The Crossing, I think, and found it slow-going and terribly pretentious, and never finished it. I have known several cowboys, and NONE of them talked the way McCarthy's cowboys talked. But I was at a bookstore in the Las Vegas airport, where the slot machines are plentiful and excellent, if you like that sort of thing, but the bookstores are perfunctory. So I bought The Road, and I'm telling you, it's the bleakest book I have ever whipped my way through. In case you hadn't read about it, it's about a father and son making their way across a post-Apocolyptic America, in which they scavenge food and defend themselves against the other few survivors in search of a good source of protein.
But it's also about a father's deep love for his son, and hope that flies in the face of all logic and evidence, and that's what kept me reading. Now I understand all the hype about the book--and I guess I'm glad that the Las Vegas airport bookstore had little else to offer. Because I hit the jackpot with this one.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Really?
You're One Hundred Years of Solitude!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Lonely and struggling, you've been around for a very long time.
Conflict has filled most of your life and torn apart nearly everyone you know. Yet there
is something majestic and even epic about your presence in the world. You love life all
the more for having seen its decimation. After all, it takes a village.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
OK, One Hundred Years of Solitude is one of my favorite books ever. But I don't feel as conflicted as all that. And my love life...decimated? Not by a long shot!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The pre-post-Harry blues
I'm anticipating the last Harry Potter book, and already feeling sad about the fact that there will be no new H.P. adventures to look forward to. Not that this sets me apart from thousands of kids, adults, and the entire kidlit industry.
And so, a week before the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, readers are left to wonder...what next? The Champaign-Urbana News Gazette ran a long feature article in their "Living" section about Harry Potter. [Joan alert: there's a nice picture of Christine Jenkins and the first six H.P. books, and several quotes.] A sidebar listed the reading recommendations for Harry Potter lovers from local librarians and bookstore buyers. And here's what interested me. There were the usual recommendations, many of them excellent, for other fantasy books: MG, YA, and adult. But one recommendation, by Elaine Beardon, the children's librarian at the Urbana Free Library, caught my eye: My Side of the Mountain, by Jean Craighead George.
This is a book that I loved, loved, loved as a kid. It's interesting, though, that a nature adventure would be appear in a list of books that might appeal to Harry Potter fans. Although, if you think about it, a kid living by himself in the woods is pretty much a fantasy. Anyhow, the concept of being totally self-sufficient and in control of your own destiny is one of the most powerful YA themes.
It's not surprising that one of my other favorite books as a kid was The Island of the Blue Dolphins, by Scott O'Dell. Man, how I wanted to be that girl. Only maybe with a few Harry Potter books to keep me entertained.
Which leads me to the NYT review of book 3 of Michelle Paver's Chronicles of Ancient Darkness series, Soul Eater. The reviewer references Harry Potter in the first two words of his review, suggesting that this is another offering that would appeal to fans of Harry Potter.
Interesting, again, because this book doesn't appear to be anything like the H.P. series--it's set 6,000 years ago in Northern Europe, at the end of the last Ice Age. It's almost as if reviewers who really like new books have to reference Harry Potter, however much of a stretch. That said, this sounds like a terrific series, and I have to say that I don't mind at all if the new fantasy trend is the historical/nature adventure.
And so, a week before the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, readers are left to wonder...what next? The Champaign-Urbana News Gazette ran a long feature article in their "Living" section about Harry Potter. [Joan alert: there's a nice picture of Christine Jenkins and the first six H.P. books, and several quotes.] A sidebar listed the reading recommendations for Harry Potter lovers from local librarians and bookstore buyers. And here's what interested me. There were the usual recommendations, many of them excellent, for other fantasy books: MG, YA, and adult. But one recommendation, by Elaine Beardon, the children's librarian at the Urbana Free Library, caught my eye: My Side of the Mountain, by Jean Craighead George.
This is a book that I loved, loved, loved as a kid. It's interesting, though, that a nature adventure would be appear in a list of books that might appeal to Harry Potter fans. Although, if you think about it, a kid living by himself in the woods is pretty much a fantasy. Anyhow, the concept of being totally self-sufficient and in control of your own destiny is one of the most powerful YA themes.
It's not surprising that one of my other favorite books as a kid was The Island of the Blue Dolphins, by Scott O'Dell. Man, how I wanted to be that girl. Only maybe with a few Harry Potter books to keep me entertained.
Which leads me to the NYT review of book 3 of Michelle Paver's Chronicles of Ancient Darkness series, Soul Eater. The reviewer references Harry Potter in the first two words of his review, suggesting that this is another offering that would appeal to fans of Harry Potter.
Interesting, again, because this book doesn't appear to be anything like the H.P. series--it's set 6,000 years ago in Northern Europe, at the end of the last Ice Age. It's almost as if reviewers who really like new books have to reference Harry Potter, however much of a stretch. That said, this sounds like a terrific series, and I have to say that I don't mind at all if the new fantasy trend is the historical/nature adventure.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Charity Girl
I just finished reading the terrific historical novel Charity Girl, by Michael Lowenthal. During World War I, thirty thousand women were rounded up on suspicion of transmitting venereal diseases to soldiers. More than fifteen thousand, found to have sexually transmitted diseases, were detained for months at a time. Some of these women were prostitutes, although many were arrested for the "crime" of dressing too provocatively or being in the wrong neighborhood without an escort. They were sent to dozens of detention homes (many of them former brothels) across the country where they were subjected to hard labor, terrible humiliations, and forced medical treatment.
Lowenthal imagines a 17 year old Jewish girl from Boston, Frieda Mintz, who escapes her emotionally abusive mother and the prospect of an arranged marriage with a man twice her age to work as a bundle wrapper in a Boston department store. She falls in love and spends an impulsive night with Felix Morse, a U.S. Army private. Unfortunately, he give her more than love; when he tests positive for syphilis, he names Frieda. She is fired from her job and sent to a rural detention center.
On his website, Lowenthal writes that he spent a year researching this book, and it shows. He marries his extraordinary writing abilities with historical detail to create a story that really pops off the page. Here's a section from the scene where Felix takes Frieda to a baseball game:
Frieda munched nut after nut, cracking the next before she'd downed the last, for their flavor and because she hadn't eaten since her gumdrop snack at noon. As she gorged she read the advertisements that covered the park's far wall. Whiskey, razor blades, gasoline. Every homer wins a Delano hat! This was clearly a venue in which to persuade men to buy things. A place where men went weak and could be swayed. She was just one of just half a dozen girls in the whole section. On all sides, row after row of derby hats, like the keys of a huge Underwood typewriter. (Charity Girl, p. 53)See what I mean? Read it for yourself. It's an adult novel, although it features a teenage character and I would recommend it to any high school reader.
Oh, and did I mention that Michael Lowenthal is one of the writing instructors in Lesley's MFA program (as well as at Boston College) and that he's a real mensch?
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Traveling while reading
One of the pleasures of traveling is seeking out and reading books set in your destination. This also applies to reading books set in a city you're well acquainted with. One of the pleasures of reading Sara Paretsky's V.I. Warshowsky mysteries is her descriptions of familiar Chicago neighborhoods. (A little known fact: her father, David Paretsky, taught one of my introductory microbiology courses at KU--a wonderful man who died not too long ago from Alzheimer's-related complications--and her brother, Jonathon Paretsky, taught one of my German classes at KU. Plus, she's married to a U.C physicist; I met them both briefly at a cocktail party one time, long ago.)
So on my European travels, I've tried to seek out some books that said something about the place I was visiting. I wasn't always able to read the book as I was actually visiting the place, but it seems I'm always playing catchup in my reading anyway.
What I'm reading now: Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. Mary Shelley conceived of the idea and began writing the book while spending a rainy and rather dreary summer near Geneva with Percy Shelly and Lord Byron. I ran by Lord Byron's house in Cologny, so it was fun to imagine them sitting around, talking about ghost stories. For some reason I never read Frankenstein, so this is the perfect time to do it.
In that spirit, I bought The Bastard of Istanbul (by Elif Shafak, who was tried for the crime of "insulting Turkishness") before we left for Istanbul and T. snapped it up before I could get to it. I read it after we got back, and we both enjoyed it, but we differed in our assessments. Tony felt that it was too heavy-handed, but I argued that it was in the storytelling tradition that she was using, so it was OK. It's basically an allegory about the relationship between the Turks, the Armenians, and the Western world. I highly recommend it, although it's not one of those books that will make you walk around Istanbul saying, "Oh, yes, I remember this street!" But it is one of those books that will help you understand a deeper level of Istanbul than you can ever get through a short visit.
When we were in Venice I read Ian McEwan's dark and haunting Comfort of Strangers, at Tony's recommendation. Colin and Mary are disaffected lovers on vacation in Venice. Although McEwan never once mentions the name of the city, it is clear from his descriptions (both dreamlike and vivid, if that's possible) of the canals and maze-like streets that it's Venice. It's short, too, so it was easy to put in my bag and read if I had a few spare minutes here and there. It made me think twice about getting lost in Venice!
Does anybody else have favorite "travel" books? Naples is my next destination. I've already listened to the audio version of Robert Harris' Pompeii (a great listen!) so that's out. Leonardo Sciascia is supposed to have written some good literary mysteries set in Sicily. Close enough, maybe.
So on my European travels, I've tried to seek out some books that said something about the place I was visiting. I wasn't always able to read the book as I was actually visiting the place, but it seems I'm always playing catchup in my reading anyway.
What I'm reading now: Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. Mary Shelley conceived of the idea and began writing the book while spending a rainy and rather dreary summer near Geneva with Percy Shelly and Lord Byron. I ran by Lord Byron's house in Cologny, so it was fun to imagine them sitting around, talking about ghost stories. For some reason I never read Frankenstein, so this is the perfect time to do it.
In that spirit, I bought The Bastard of Istanbul (by Elif Shafak, who was tried for the crime of "insulting Turkishness") before we left for Istanbul and T. snapped it up before I could get to it. I read it after we got back, and we both enjoyed it, but we differed in our assessments. Tony felt that it was too heavy-handed, but I argued that it was in the storytelling tradition that she was using, so it was OK. It's basically an allegory about the relationship between the Turks, the Armenians, and the Western world. I highly recommend it, although it's not one of those books that will make you walk around Istanbul saying, "Oh, yes, I remember this street!" But it is one of those books that will help you understand a deeper level of Istanbul than you can ever get through a short visit.
When we were in Venice I read Ian McEwan's dark and haunting Comfort of Strangers, at Tony's recommendation. Colin and Mary are disaffected lovers on vacation in Venice. Although McEwan never once mentions the name of the city, it is clear from his descriptions (both dreamlike and vivid, if that's possible) of the canals and maze-like streets that it's Venice. It's short, too, so it was easy to put in my bag and read if I had a few spare minutes here and there. It made me think twice about getting lost in Venice!
Does anybody else have favorite "travel" books? Naples is my next destination. I've already listened to the audio version of Robert Harris' Pompeii (a great listen!) so that's out. Leonardo Sciascia is supposed to have written some good literary mysteries set in Sicily. Close enough, maybe.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Dum-da-da-dum: The Latta-Liss Top 100 books
After much fanfare, hoo-hah-ing, and throat clearing on the previous incarnations of my blog, I am now posting the list of our family's (Tony, Alison, Caitlin, Eli and I) top 100 books. Caitlin, Eli and I came up with the idea one time last fall when we were talking about top this-or-that book lists. Why not come up with a list of our own, we reasoned--a list of favorite books in the Latta-Liss household. After much discussion we came up with this complex criteria: anything goes.
In other words, nonfiction, fiction, childrens' books, plays, poetry, graphic novels. Desert island books? No, because who wants to list "How to survive on a desert island." Most important books? Books we'd want to re-read? No, and no. Just this: our favorite books. Books that changed our lives, maybe? Books that stick with us like popcorn hulls between teeth? Something like that. Details on the algorithm for ranking the books comes after the list. Keep in mind that the books at the top of the list are likely to be books that were read aloud to the kids, or that all of us read. It's interesting to read the list as a gauge of how the reading habits of individual family members influence others, as well as how they diverge.
1. The Golden Compass, Philip Pullman (101 pts.)
2. 100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (98 pts.)
3. Everything is Illuminated, Jonathon Safran Foer (68 pts.)
4. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card (65 pts.)
5. Moby Dick, Herman Melville (50)
6. Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain (42)
7. Beloved, Toni Morrison (41)
8. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy (41)
9. As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner (38)
10. The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro (33)
11. A Storm of Swords, George R.R. Martin (33)
12. The Time Traveler's Wife, Audrey Niffeneger (31)
13. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer (29)
14. Midnight's Children, Salmon Rushdie (26)
15. Watchman, Alan Moore (25)
16. The Crucible, Arthur Miller (25)
17. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (25)
18. Life, the Universe, and Everything, Douglas Adams (25)
19. Library of Babel, Jorge Luis Borges (25)
20. Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman, (25)
21. Goedel, Escher, Bach, Douglas Hofstader (25)
22. Farewell to the Sea: A Novel of Cuba, Reinaldo Arenas (25)
23. Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon (25)
24. Ulysses, James Joyce, (24)
25. A Clash of Kings, George R.R. Martin (24)
26. The Once and Future King, T.H. White (23)
27. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley (23)
28. The Call of the Wild, Jack London (23)
29. Playboy of the Western World, J.M. Synge (23)
30. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury (23)
31. Arctic Dreams, Barry Lopez (23)
32. The Sot Weed Factor, John Barth (22)
33. Sailing Alone Around the Room, Billy Collins, (22)
34. My Side of the Mountain, Jean Craighead George (22)
35. Ender's Shadow, Orson Scott Card (22)
36. Charlotte's Web, E.B. White, (22)
37. Canterbury Tales, Chaucer (22)
38. The Origin of Species, Charles Darwin (21)
39. So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish, Douglas Adams (21)
40. Shadow of the Giant, Orson Scott Card (20)
41. PrairyErth, William Least Heat Moon (20)
42. Evidence of Things Unseen, Marianne Wiggens (20)
43. Collected Poems, William Butler Yeats (19)
44. Alexandria Quartet, Laurence Durrell, (19)
45. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard (18)
46. A Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin (18)
47. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams (17)
48. The Giver, Lois Lowry (17)
49. The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger (16)
50. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (16)
51. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophesies of Anges Nutter, Witch, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (15)
52. Bread and Wine, Ignazio Silone (15)
53. Sonny Elephant, Madge A. Bigham (14)
54. On the Road, Jack Keroac (14)
55. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Tennessee Williams (14)
56. You Shall Know Our Velocity, Dave Eggars (13)
57. Xenocide, Orson Scott Card (13)
58. Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne (13)
59. Call It Sleep, Henry Roth (13)
60. A Home at the End of the World, Michael Cunningham (13)
61. Walk Two Moons, Sharon Creech (12)
62. The Amber Spyglass, Philip Pullman (12)
63. Lord of the Flies, William Golding (12)
64. The Story of Ferdinand (the Bull), Munro Leaf and Robert Lawson (12)
65. East of Eden, John Steinbeck (12)
66. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx (11)
67. Outcast of Redwall, Brian Jacques (11)
68. The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne (10)
69. Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris (10)
70. A Feast for Crows, George R.R. Martin (10)
71. Tacky the Penguin, Helen Lester and Lynn Munsinger (9)
72. Long After Midnight, Ray Bradbury (9)
73. Death of a Salesman, Arthur Miller (9)
74. Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky (9)
75. In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson, Bette Bao Lord and Marc Simont (8)
76. Dune, Frank Herbert (7)
77. Neverwhere: A Novel, Neil Gaiman (7)
78. Lives of a Cell, Lewis Thomas (7)
79. In the Night Kitchen, Maurice Sendak (7)
80. And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic, Randy Shilts (7)
81. A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley (7)
82. The Last Defender of Camelot, Roger Zelazny (6)
83. Catch-22, Joseph Heller (6)
84. A Short History of a Small Place, T. R. Pearson (6)
85. Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak (5)
86. The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles (5)
87. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (5)
88. Middlemarch, George Elliot (5)
89. The Polar Express, Chris Van Allsburg (4)
90. The Magus, John Fowles (3)
91. Make Way for Ducklings, Robert McClosky (3)
92. Life of Pi, Yann Martel (1)
We left it up to math-whiz Tony to come up with a scoring system. Here's what he devised: knowing that there would be a fair amount of overlap, each of us submitted a list of 25 books. (Even so, the five of us ended up with only 92 books for our top 100.) Each person ranked their books, giving our #1 book 25 points, #2 24, etc., with our #25 book receiving 1 point. Then we were each allotted 50 points to distribute among our 25 books as we saw fit. This is where individual strategies came into play. Some of us loaded the decks at the tops of our lists to show our devotion to our favorites. Others selected books that they knew only they had read, but thought so highly of them that they gave them extra points to put them higher on the list. Others played fair, spreading the 50 points evenly throughout the list.
Alison spent a lot of time over Christmas break compiling the results. Thanks, Alison and Tony!
In other words, nonfiction, fiction, childrens' books, plays, poetry, graphic novels. Desert island books? No, because who wants to list "How to survive on a desert island." Most important books? Books we'd want to re-read? No, and no. Just this: our favorite books. Books that changed our lives, maybe? Books that stick with us like popcorn hulls between teeth? Something like that. Details on the algorithm for ranking the books comes after the list. Keep in mind that the books at the top of the list are likely to be books that were read aloud to the kids, or that all of us read. It's interesting to read the list as a gauge of how the reading habits of individual family members influence others, as well as how they diverge.
1. The Golden Compass, Philip Pullman (101 pts.)
2. 100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (98 pts.)
3. Everything is Illuminated, Jonathon Safran Foer (68 pts.)
4. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card (65 pts.)
5. Moby Dick, Herman Melville (50)
6. Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain (42)
7. Beloved, Toni Morrison (41)
8. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy (41)
9. As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner (38)
10. The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro (33)
11. A Storm of Swords, George R.R. Martin (33)
12. The Time Traveler's Wife, Audrey Niffeneger (31)
13. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer (29)
14. Midnight's Children, Salmon Rushdie (26)
15. Watchman, Alan Moore (25)
16. The Crucible, Arthur Miller (25)
17. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (25)
18. Life, the Universe, and Everything, Douglas Adams (25)
19. Library of Babel, Jorge Luis Borges (25)
20. Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman, (25)
21. Goedel, Escher, Bach, Douglas Hofstader (25)
22. Farewell to the Sea: A Novel of Cuba, Reinaldo Arenas (25)
23. Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon (25)
24. Ulysses, James Joyce, (24)
25. A Clash of Kings, George R.R. Martin (24)
26. The Once and Future King, T.H. White (23)
27. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley (23)
28. The Call of the Wild, Jack London (23)
29. Playboy of the Western World, J.M. Synge (23)
30. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury (23)
31. Arctic Dreams, Barry Lopez (23)
32. The Sot Weed Factor, John Barth (22)
33. Sailing Alone Around the Room, Billy Collins, (22)
34. My Side of the Mountain, Jean Craighead George (22)
35. Ender's Shadow, Orson Scott Card (22)
36. Charlotte's Web, E.B. White, (22)
37. Canterbury Tales, Chaucer (22)
38. The Origin of Species, Charles Darwin (21)
39. So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish, Douglas Adams (21)
40. Shadow of the Giant, Orson Scott Card (20)
41. PrairyErth, William Least Heat Moon (20)
42. Evidence of Things Unseen, Marianne Wiggens (20)
43. Collected Poems, William Butler Yeats (19)
44. Alexandria Quartet, Laurence Durrell, (19)
45. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard (18)
46. A Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin (18)
47. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams (17)
48. The Giver, Lois Lowry (17)
49. The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger (16)
50. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (16)
51. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophesies of Anges Nutter, Witch, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (15)
52. Bread and Wine, Ignazio Silone (15)
53. Sonny Elephant, Madge A. Bigham (14)
54. On the Road, Jack Keroac (14)
55. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Tennessee Williams (14)
56. You Shall Know Our Velocity, Dave Eggars (13)
57. Xenocide, Orson Scott Card (13)
58. Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne (13)
59. Call It Sleep, Henry Roth (13)
60. A Home at the End of the World, Michael Cunningham (13)
61. Walk Two Moons, Sharon Creech (12)
62. The Amber Spyglass, Philip Pullman (12)
63. Lord of the Flies, William Golding (12)
64. The Story of Ferdinand (the Bull), Munro Leaf and Robert Lawson (12)
65. East of Eden, John Steinbeck (12)
66. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx (11)
67. Outcast of Redwall, Brian Jacques (11)
68. The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne (10)
69. Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris (10)
70. A Feast for Crows, George R.R. Martin (10)
71. Tacky the Penguin, Helen Lester and Lynn Munsinger (9)
72. Long After Midnight, Ray Bradbury (9)
73. Death of a Salesman, Arthur Miller (9)
74. Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky (9)
75. In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson, Bette Bao Lord and Marc Simont (8)
76. Dune, Frank Herbert (7)
77. Neverwhere: A Novel, Neil Gaiman (7)
78. Lives of a Cell, Lewis Thomas (7)
79. In the Night Kitchen, Maurice Sendak (7)
80. And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic, Randy Shilts (7)
81. A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley (7)
82. The Last Defender of Camelot, Roger Zelazny (6)
83. Catch-22, Joseph Heller (6)
84. A Short History of a Small Place, T. R. Pearson (6)
85. Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak (5)
86. The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles (5)
87. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (5)
88. Middlemarch, George Elliot (5)
89. The Polar Express, Chris Van Allsburg (4)
90. The Magus, John Fowles (3)
91. Make Way for Ducklings, Robert McClosky (3)
92. Life of Pi, Yann Martel (1)
We left it up to math-whiz Tony to come up with a scoring system. Here's what he devised: knowing that there would be a fair amount of overlap, each of us submitted a list of 25 books. (Even so, the five of us ended up with only 92 books for our top 100.) Each person ranked their books, giving our #1 book 25 points, #2 24, etc., with our #25 book receiving 1 point. Then we were each allotted 50 points to distribute among our 25 books as we saw fit. This is where individual strategies came into play. Some of us loaded the decks at the tops of our lists to show our devotion to our favorites. Others selected books that they knew only they had read, but thought so highly of them that they gave them extra points to put them higher on the list. Others played fair, spreading the 50 points evenly throughout the list.
Alison spent a lot of time over Christmas break compiling the results. Thanks, Alison and Tony!
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