A friend recently suggested I make this a blog that reviews the first 50 pages of books. Because that's about how far I get before I get distracted and skip off to another book.
That's a bit too 'themey' and 'awesome' for me, but I will totally do it right now.
The Vanishers, Heidi Julavits. Heidi Julavits is a badass. I read an essay of hers I totally loved ("Maine, according to this vernacular, is a state filled with people possessed of great, garbled wisdom who eat lobster like it's bologna and die in ironic drowning accidents"), and so I was all "Heeeeell yeah, I'll read her novel." As far as I can tell 75 pages in, it's about a girl with psychic ability who becomes acquainted with an organization that 'vanishes' people who don't want their lives anymore. It is weird but good.
The Silver Linings Playbook, Matthew Quick. I already talked about this. A bipolar dude gets taken home from an institution he's been in for a few years. He's obsessed with working out, and getting his wife or possibly ex-wife -- he's narrating, so it's unclear -- back. This is excellent and everyone should read it.
The Last Unicorn, Peter Beagle. It's got the sentence "The heavy lock giggled and whined like a mad monkey." So. If that's your jam, you should probably read it.
Gay Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen/Kate Christie. "'No,' answered she. 'In fact, I can say in truth that I have no interest in forwarding any sort of relationship with Caroline Bingley.'" OH REALLY, LIZZY. Also, yeah. I'm reading this. Because this is the sort of book I am asked to review (authors, pay heed). It's kind of great. I wasn't sure who they were going to be putting Elizabeth with (I assumed Charlotte), and when the actual intentions became clear, my Kindle note is: "Hah! Are they putting Elizabeth with Miss Bingley? O rapture." The dynamic works the same, only they are both LADIES.
The Mystery of Edwin Drood, Charles Dickens. Ok, I'm actually mostly through this one. And can I say how very much in love I am with Mr Crisparkle and Mr Grewgious, and how VERY ANNOYED INDEED I am with the otherwise unassailably stellar musical version for combining them into one irritatingly stupid character? I'm actually in love with all the characters except Edwin Drood and John Jasper. They can leave, thank you. For those unaware, this book (of which half exists) concerns the disappearance of the young Mr Drood on a stormy night. It is assumed he's murdered, but by WHOM and WHY. And, more importantly, who's going to end up making out? (the possibilities are ENDLESS)
The annual Presbyterian Women's retreat is this weekend, and while I always have lofty reading goals for it, they rarely get accomplished, because I instead spend my time drinking wine, singing duets from Tangled and bonding. But I shall TRY to finish a book. Try.
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That's a bit too 'themey' and 'awesome' for me, but I will totally do it right now.
The Vanishers, Heidi Julavits. Heidi Julavits is a badass. I read an essay of hers I totally loved ("Maine, according to this vernacular, is a state filled with people possessed of great, garbled wisdom who eat lobster like it's bologna and die in ironic drowning accidents"), and so I was all "Heeeeell yeah, I'll read her novel." As far as I can tell 75 pages in, it's about a girl with psychic ability who becomes acquainted with an organization that 'vanishes' people who don't want their lives anymore. It is weird but good.
The Silver Linings Playbook, Matthew Quick. I already talked about this. A bipolar dude gets taken home from an institution he's been in for a few years. He's obsessed with working out, and getting his wife or possibly ex-wife -- he's narrating, so it's unclear -- back. This is excellent and everyone should read it.
The Last Unicorn, Peter Beagle. It's got the sentence "The heavy lock giggled and whined like a mad monkey." So. If that's your jam, you should probably read it.
Gay Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen/Kate Christie. "'No,' answered she. 'In fact, I can say in truth that I have no interest in forwarding any sort of relationship with Caroline Bingley.'" OH REALLY, LIZZY. Also, yeah. I'm reading this. Because this is the sort of book I am asked to review (authors, pay heed). It's kind of great. I wasn't sure who they were going to be putting Elizabeth with (I assumed Charlotte), and when the actual intentions became clear, my Kindle note is: "Hah! Are they putting Elizabeth with Miss Bingley? O rapture." The dynamic works the same, only they are both LADIES.
The Mystery of Edwin Drood, Charles Dickens. Ok, I'm actually mostly through this one. And can I say how very much in love I am with Mr Crisparkle and Mr Grewgious, and how VERY ANNOYED INDEED I am with the otherwise unassailably stellar musical version for combining them into one irritatingly stupid character? I'm actually in love with all the characters except Edwin Drood and John Jasper. They can leave, thank you. For those unaware, this book (of which half exists) concerns the disappearance of the young Mr Drood on a stormy night. It is assumed he's murdered, but by WHOM and WHY. And, more importantly, who's going to end up making out? (the possibilities are ENDLESS)
The annual Presbyterian Women's retreat is this weekend, and while I always have lofty reading goals for it, they rarely get accomplished, because I instead spend my time drinking wine, singing duets from Tangled and bonding. But I shall TRY to finish a book. Try.
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