books and pictures

Today on CNN, it was reported that Barack Obama took 5 books totaling 2300 pages with him on vacation. Well, I don’t know how many pages my books totaled, but I ended up taking 12 books and 10 magazines with me on my vacation. And of course I didn’t read them all. I just wanted to have the luxury of lots of choice. And I suppose it’s kind of a poor showing that I only read 2 books out of the 12. But what can I say. The activities schedule was pretty packed.

What was weird about the books I read on vacation was that they both ended up dealing with childhood sexual abuse even though I had no idea that that’s what either book would contain when I started them. So that may also be why I only read two books. Perhaps I was scared of starting another book that somehow also involved childhood sexual abuse, because then I would have had to question why I was buying all these books that somehow featured childhood sexual abuse without my knowing. What’s up with my subconscious?

Anyhoo, the two books I read were:
--Book #15: Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons and Found My Faith by Martha Beck
--Book #16: Case Histories by Kate Atkinson

I chose “Leaving the Saints” cause I wanted to read about some crazy Mormons, and this memoir did not disappoint on that count. It’s about how Martha Beck, the lady who I hear appears on Oprah sometimes, relocated from Cambridge, MA to her childhood home of Utah. Her father is a bigwig in the Church of JC of LDS, so she re-explores her family’s religion while trying to come to grips with her own spiritual beliefs. It’s interesting enough as a memoir of faith. But then you have to throw the aforementioned childhood abuse in there; Beck alleges that her father molested her when she was young, something she repressed until adulthood. If you look at the reviews on Amazon, they’re pretty divided on whether this book is truthful or not, which seems like kind of a weird thing for strangers to debate but oh well. I can’t say I want to hang out with the lady, but the book was interesting enough to me.

Well, after reading the Mormon Memoir, I decided to switch over to fiction. I chose “Case Histories” because I’d heard it was a real page-turner. Eh, it was okay. It didn’t wow me. Basically there are three sets of characters and all of them have a decades-old mysterious death in their past and a private investigator tries to solve everything so that the families have closure. There was sexual abuse in this one too, as well as multiple families in which one child was loved way more than another one, which is not exactly a fun thing to read about at a family reunion. It really wasn’t a mystery as described in all the blurbs, though the characters that were wandering around the book were interesting enough. Even though when perspective changed, the author’s style didn’t, meaning that all these characters expressed their thoughts in parentheses (which made it hard to distinguish the differences between people). Just alright.

Hey, are you kind of depressed after reading about these sad books I read on vacation? Me too. Let’s look at vacation pictures to cheer ourselves up.

Abe Lincoln's boyhood home:

Lincoln birthplace memorial:

Lincoln statue in Hodgenville:

ZOOOM in:

Rough River Lake:

More of the lake:

Holding Mickey Mantle's bat:

Stealing some chicken from the colonel:

Book #14: Infinite Jest

Alright, so people have started to notice that I have not posted in a good long while. Hopefully this post will explain why, in part. The thing is, I have been very busy reading “Infinite Jest,” which is a book that has more than 1000 pages if you count the endnotes. Lots of people have been reading “Infinite Jest” this summer thanks to the online book group at Infinite Summer. Well, as you likely know, I can’t stand not having read a book that many other people had read, so I decided to join in. But I decided to make it even harder on myself—while the Infinite Summer readers were taking from June 21st to Sept. 22nd to read the book, I wanted to go a little faster. I made it my goal to read “Infinite Jest” in just one month: July 1 to July 31.

To do this, one has to read about 30 pages a day, and woe unto me if I skipped a day because of like, a social life, because then I was attempting to read 60 or so pages a day. And these aren’t the kinds of pages you read real fast; there’s a lot of contemplating and trying to figure out what’s going on. Now, I didn’t have to do it this way, but I wanted to, so I’ve been reading a lot and that’s part of why I haven’t been blogging lately.

Well, I’ll just go ahead and admit that I didn’t finish the book til last night, August 2, two days off the goal mark, but oh well. I’m still glad I read at the pace I did, because I think that if I hadn’t set aside such large chunks of time to read this book, I might have given up on this book like so many others do. But because I kept going at quite a clip, I think I got to a place of acceptance with it faster, and it became like this dedicated mental exercise time, when I sat down to read. A recent blogger at Infinite Summer likened it to yoga, and I completely agree.

And I ended up really loving it, and being absolutely in awe of how David Foster Wallace’s brain worked (and of course, at the same time, sad about how his brain worked, as he committed suicide last year and lots of the book deals with awful awful depression, but that’s not what I want to focus on). Some days, this book made me want to write my own book, and some days, I felt it was useless to even call myself a writer because what could I ever produce that would match this? It’s such a weird, funny, scary, heartbreaking world he created in this book. The plot is impossible to summarize, but it involves a tennis academy, alcohol and drug addiction, filmmaking, depression, alienation and Quebec separatists.

“Infinite Jest” seems like one of those books that people think they’re not smart enough to read, but all the intro posts to the book posted at Infinite Summer were a big help. Then it was nice to see what other people thought, but then, thanks to my advanced reading schedule, I zoomed ahead of everyone, and stopped checking the internet for what people thought. Then, last night, after I finished, I finally checked the internet again to see if my understanding of the book was remotely close to what I was “supposed” to think, and it seems like I did okay in terms of understanding everything, which is good, I guess, but I suppose that’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to worry about, and the fact that I’m even giving myself the intellectual pat on the back now seems kind of weird. But I guess what I’m saying is that if you’ve ever been intimidated by the book, you shouldn’t be. The things you’re supposed to understand, you do, and the things that aren’t addressed or resolved, well, they’re good in their own way too. I think I’ll be re-reading passages in this book for days and months to come, if not re-reading it altogether, which is an impulse I very rarely have about a book; usually I consider re-reading to be a waste when there are so many other books to be read.

So that’s what I’ve been doing: reading a really really long book in a short timeframe. And if that’s not enough for you, I’ll show you something else I’ve been working on in the last few months. It’s a cross-stitch of Pope John Paul II!!!!!!

At the top you see what it will be one day, and at bottom you see where I am with it now. I have a headless pope. But this is what I like to do while I watch junky tv, when I wasn't reading Infinite Jest or at work or hanging out with people. So hopefully now all my time is accounted for. And as a warning---I'm going on vacation starting Friday where I will be blissfully internet-free, so hopefully this post can tide y'all over for awhile.

Book #13: Bait and Switch

I don’t know why I decided to read “Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream” by Barbara Ehrenreich. Perhaps it was because it looked like a quick read, and I’m about to dive into a big book. Perhaps because it seems like the kind of book that if you don’t read soon after its published, it becomes too dated to read. Perhaps because I liked “Nickel and Dimed,” Ehrenreich’s most famous book. All I know is that after reading “Bait and Switch,” I’m terribly depressed about the job market and pretty fed up with Barbara Ehrenreich.

Here’s the premise of the book: having gone undercover with the working class in “Nickel and Dimed,” Ehrenreich decides to go undercover with the middle class with a white collar job. She gives herself a few months to find a job in the corporate world, and then she will work at this job for a few more months, to learn all of the corporate world’s secrets, and then she will quit. So she fashions a fake resume and goes about doing the kind of job-searching things that make great book anecdotes, like going to a religious networking event and getting a wacky career coach and getting a makeover.

Now, here’s the thing that made this book so hard to read: Ehrenreich’s immense derision for everything that doesn’t fit within her prescribed world view practically drips off every page. I just kept thinking, man, it must be exhausting to be Barbara Ehrenreich because you never get to have any fun. To make matters worse, one of the places that she did her job-searching was Atlanta, so she took some potshots at Atlanta that seemed a little unfair. Perhaps not unfair, but it just showed how little research she did in the course of her journalistic undertaking. Perhaps research doesn’t make a good book anecdote.

The process of being unemployed and looking for a job is one that many, including myself, can relate with. But it quickly became tiresome reading Ehrenreich’s complaints, particularly when you consider that she really shouldn’t get an interview or a 60k a year job on the basis of her slightly exaggerated resume. Boo hoo Barbara. She rambles for 200 pages and then ends with a call for better unemployment insurance and universal health care. Hope that wasn’t a spoiler for anyone.

While I couldn’t stand Ehrenreich’s condescension to everyone who wasn’t her, I will say that this book was immensely useful in one important way: it made me want to stay at my job for a good long time, if only because this book was like an awful nightmare flashback to what job hunting is like. And I do think that the difficulty of finding a job that pays you enough to live the American Dream is a worthy topic. It’s just not a topic that Ehrenreich should have left her pearl-crusted room to undertake.

Book #12: Bel Canto

A few years ago, I was at a friend’s apartment, and she had a copy of “Bel Canto” by Ann Patchett sitting in the bathroom. “I love this book,” she said. “But I can never seem to finish it.” Now, having finished up “Bel Canto” myself, I can see why she said that. When I was reading the book, I was completely enthralled. But then, I would put the book down for days at a time and care little what happened to the characters inside, despite the fact that they were in a very life-or-death situation: a hostage crisis. It’s the most leisurely hostage crisis you will ever read about.

Here is the basic plot: a group of notable people have gathered in an unnamed South American country for a Japanese businessman’s birthday party. The attendees think that the Japanese businessman will build a factory in the town, but the businessman is only interested in the night’s entertainment, which is his favorite opera singer. After she finishes singing, terrorists take the group hostage, and the ordeal lasts for months and months, which gives the characters some time to make unlikely connections. While staying suitably vague, I can only say that the way some of the connections panned out only made my stomach hurt, the way your stomach can hurt sometimes for fictional characters that you wish had better endings waiting for them.

Well, here is what I learned about hostage situations from this book:
--It’s essential to have a good translator on hand.
--It’s also good to have wonderful musicians on hand, because they can entertain everyone and unite different people with the common language of music.
--Chess is a good way to pass the time while you’re waiting for your demands to be met.
--Hopefully one of the hostages knows how to cook.
--A priest is also helpful in such situations.
--Use your spare time in captivity to learn foreign languages.

$3.25 worth of awesomeness

Tonight I went to a nearby Goodwill because I heard through the grapevine that this particular store location was a good place to pick up quality used books. Well, I only ended up buying one book, but it was a doozy:


It is a book called Molly!!!!!! And here is something freaky: it came out the year I was born. I love the cover of this book more than words can say. I think I am going to keep it on my dresser so that I can style my hair that way.

Now, I admit that I probably would have bought this book for its cover alone, but listen to the intriguing text found on the book jacket:
“Molly” is storytelling at its dramatic best – the fast-paced, engrossing tale of a feisty young Irish girl whose spirit triumphs over poverty and personal tragedy.

Fleeing her fanatical republican family, Molly O’Dowd arrives nearly penniless in London at the end of the nineteenth century. With the aid of a social worker, she escapes the world of East End gambling houses and brothels and invests what little money she has in a typing course – an investment that will lead to the founding of her own employment agency and her establishment as a woman of power and means.

Along the way Molly wins – and then loses in the Boer War – her first love, makes a marriage of convenience, is widowed, and marries again. But her energy and determination never flag, and finally she meets the man who will be her match in business and in love.

From the rough-and-tumble world of the London docks to the luxurious hotels and restaurants of the fashionable West End, “Molly” captures the temper of the times – the unrest of the laboring classes, the courage of the suffragette movement, the ravages of the First World War. And through it all moves one of the most appealing and fully realized heroines in years: the indomitable Molly O’Dowd.

Can you believe that? And that’s just the book jacket!! Who knows how much more plot acclaimed author Teresa Crane stuck into this book?!?! It sounds like that Molly really gets around. Even if I never read this book, the book cover and jacket description make it well worth the $1.25 I spent on it.

Then, even though it seemed like my night couldn’t get any better, I wandered into the dollar store that was next door to the Goodwill. And there, I found some outfits for my bears Barnabas and Chester. For just $2, I was able to outfit an ENTIRE BEAR ARMY. Dressed like this, these bears will CONQUER THE WORLD.

Now, I do think that the material of Barnabas’s outfit is the same kind of material used for those kids’ pajamas that would spontaneously combust. So he might have to sleep out on the couch when he’s wearing his army outfit. But the real find, I think, is Chester’s outfit. While Barnabas is sort of a standard size bear as far as clothing goes, Chester is not. So far he only has an Appalachian State t-shirt to wear. He is petite, yet he has big hips. I’m not exactly sure what other stuffed animals or dolls this army outfit could fit, so I guess the only way to describe it is Chester–size. Though, since the outfit doesn’t have any Velcro, I’m not sure it will ever come off. So Chester Bear, you are in the army for life.

This is Chester trying to comfort fictional Molly, after he heard about her tragic loss in the Boer War:
And that is how you entertain yourself for hours with only $3.25. Plus tax.

Book #11: Around the Bloc

Here’s a disgusting anecdote to start off this book review: I have some brown and tan candles in my bathroom. Yesterday evening, as they were burning, one of the brownest candles overflowed and wax started leaking everywhere. I didn’t notice for about an hour, which meant there was plenty of time for brown wax to accumulate and make it look like someone living in my apartment had severe bathroom issues. I think it was my fish, Alvin.

I start with this gross anecdote about candle wax because I don’t actually have a whole lot to say about the book I just finished, which was written by Stephanie Elizondo Griest and titled: “Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana.” The book covers Griest’s time studying abroad in Moscow, working for a newspaper in Beijing and taking a quickie holiday to Havana. Since they are/were Communist countries, Griest has a nifty little link for tying them all together.

There were some moments when this book was pretty interesting and made me want to pack up a backpack and just get out of town. However, when people in their very early twenties travel the world and write about it, they have the tendency to become annoying very very quickly. Perhaps if I had been a few years younger when I read this book, I would have had more sympathy for all of the writer’s whining about her identity and how she couldn’t witness any revolutions and how people were just not acting like she was expecting them to. It all struck me as very selfish and immature, which is probably what my travel journal would sound like to an outside reader. But hey, I didn’t publish mine, and this girl did. So much of it also felt calculated, because people spoke in incredibly unrealistic profundities all the time and I have the sense that perhaps certain episodes were inflated to serve the author’s sense of who she is/was.

All in all, though, that’s kind of the nature of the beast when you’re abroad at that age, I think. You need things to be amazingly profound and you just think about yourself all the time. I would like to think I was an exception to that rule, though, because when I studied abroad in Italy, I didn’t think about myself all the time. I thought about popes all the time.

Even though I am being kinda negative about this book, I still had a decent enough time reading it. The author did have some interesting experiences and anecdotes even despite all her self-importance. And man oh man, let’s hope this author doesn’t have a Google alert for herself set up! Even though I bitch about travel literature sometimes, it’s still a big weakness of mine, if only for those rare moments in the book that capture the funny and the unexpected of traveling. So if you travel to some interesting places and then plunk your experiences in the travel literature section of the bookstore, I am probably going to get to it at some point or another. For now, though, I gotta go clean up some candle wax.

Book #10: My Sister's Keeper

Sometimes, even when I am in the midst of another book that I am absolutely in love with, I can’t help but think ahead to what book I will read next. After reading 776 pages of “The Brothers Karamazov,” I was ready for something that would be really quick and easy to read. Then I saw a commercial for the movie “My Sister’s Keeper,” which is coming to theaters soon and which features Cameron Diaz, Alec Baldwin and Abigail Breslin. Since I have to read books before the movie comes out, whenever possible, I decided to pull my 50-cent thrift store copy out of the book closet and see what this book was all about.

“My Sister’s Keeper” was written by Jodi Picoult, who, if my understanding of her is correct, writes a lot of family melodramas with ethical conflicts at the center. The ethical conflict in this book comes in the shape of Anna, who was conceived in a test tube as a perfect genetic mix for her sister Kate, who had leukemia. As soon as Anna is born, her cord blood goes to her sister, and then as she grows, she has to donate all sorts of things, including bone marrow. When she’s asked to donate a kidney to her ailing sister, though, Anna seeks out a fancy lawyer and files for medical emancipation.

All this is being relayed to us through shifting narrators; everybody related to the court case (except the dying sister) takes turns narrating chapters, though frankly, they all kind of sounded the same, which is especially problematic when you realize you’re trying to read a chapter from the point-of-view of a 13-year-old, and she sounds like she’s 42. It’s hard not to feel emotionally manipulated when all the chapters seem to paint the mom as a huge bitch or if there was any chance to actually fall in love with the dying sister. As it is, both of them are so unsympathetic that you kind of don’t care if they get that kidney or not. I feel like books that have an ethical conflict should actually, you know, have a conflict.

Anna’s lawyer and her guardian ad litem have conflict, though, as it appears they dated for like a week in high school and she’s still hung up on him. Since I read this book knowing Alec Baldwin was playing the part I got terribly confused, because how was I supposed to feel about this woman who hung onto something for like 40 years? But from what I can tell from IMDB, they cut the guardian ad litem from the movie and dispensed with that subplot of ick, so that’s good. How many other subplots of ick did they cut away? I’ll have to wait til the movie comes out on DVD to find out, because I don’t think I’ll see this one in theaters. For one, Cameron Diaz kind of annoys me, and for two, this movie would just be way too sad to pay money to see.

Still, while I may not be painting the rosiest picture of this book, it’s hard to complain about something that only took me a few hours to read. While this is exactly what I needed after “Brothers Karamazov,” I did get worried that the epic nature and intensity of “Brothers Karamazov” had ruined me for fluffy books. I kept waiting for the devil to show up or for some character to recite an epic poem he’d written on the nature of sin, but that never came. Instead, I got a Lifetime television movie. I hope this condition isn’t permanent. I still have a lot of fluffy books in my apartment to read.

By the way, under no circumstances should you go to the Wikipedia page for this book/movie if you don’t like spoilers, because it gives the entire (twist?) ending of the book away, but I did get this little factoid for you: apparently, Dakota and Elle Fanning had signed on for the movie version of this, with Dakota playing the sick sister and Elle playing the reluctant kidney donor sister. But Dakota backed out because she found out she’d have to shave her head to play someone with leukemia, and Elle backed out shortly after. I just find this funny, whether it’s true or not. I like to think that a director said to her, “You can’t just ACT like you have no hair, Dakota,” or something like that.

Book #9: The Brothers Karamazov

It’s commencement season, which means that pretty much every day there’s another picture of a celebrity or a dignitary getting a fake diploma and giving a speech. One day I hope to do something that gets me invited to speak at a graduation, even if it’s just a preschool graduation. I’m not picky.

Well, I had a graduation of sorts this week, but there were no fancy speakers for me. For the past seven weeks, I have been dutifully attending two classes at Emory at night. Not real classes, but personal enrichment or continuing ed or whatever they call it when nerds want to go back to school but not so badly that they go to graduate school. One of my classes was Introduction to Pilates, and the other was a literature class on “The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dostoevsky. The classes just came to a close, but rather than a diploma, I get slightly more toned abs and the satisfaction of having read a literary masterpiece. In this blog, I intend to discuss the latter.

Though I have made my way through epic Tolstoy books, reading Dostoevsky has always intimidated me, I guess because I see him as so much darker and twisty than Tolstoy. So I was very eager to take this class to be guided through the process. If you wonder why I haven’t blogged terribly much lately, it’s because reading such a long book in seven weeks takes up a lot of your spare time. Still, the class definitely helped me notice some things that I don’t know that I would have noticed otherwise.

This book, as you might guess, is about a family named Karamazov. The dad, Fyodor, is a real asshole. He has four sons by three women, if you count the son that is illegitimate and never fully claimed by Fyodor, which most people do. That illegitimate son was born to a mentally handicapped homeless woman who died after giving birth, which should tell you something about this guy’s character.

If you could made a line graph of the human psyche, with one side representing enlightenment and the other side representing meanness, with various degrees of selfishness and hopefulness in the middle, then each of the brothers would fall in various places. The “good” one is Alyosha, and our class spent a lot of time discussing him because the professor believed that he was the model by which people should strive to live their lives. He lives his best life, to borrow a term from Oprah, because he doesn’t judge, he doesn’t covet and he doesn’t destroy himself the way the others do. The rest are too blinded by their desires and their shortcomings.

We spent a lot of time discussing ego vs. real self, with real self being a somewhat perfect state of grace in which life could be peaceful, creative and whole, and the ego being seduced by illusions, alienation, fear, guilt and manipulation. I hesitate to write too much more about it, though, because I got the sense that this was the basis for our professor’s next book. I don’t want to get sued. The last time I wrote a book review the author commented on the blog, after all. While Dostoevsky might be dead, my professor isn't.

During the class, the professor kept talking so seriously about “good literature,” with the type of conviction that makes you believe good literature is so amazing and transformative that it could make a person give birth to a duck. Therefore, we spent a lot of time discussing what lessons Dostoevsky was trying to teach through his “good literature.” Still, for all our lectures on philosophy, psychology and religion, and the external vs. the internal, and morality and free will, and the nature of transformation, and everything else in the world that is “heavy,” this is a very enjoyable, readable book. As one of my classmates said, it reads like a soap opera, what with its love triangles, its murders and its poignant deathbed scenes.

Overall, I enjoyed this book and even though I was skeptical of my professor sometimes, I think it did make me into a better person, or at least one who notices more often which way the path to better personhood is pointed. In conclusion, I am glad I read this book in a class that was just for fun, as opposed to a class where I might have actually had to write a paper on it, because just writing this non-complex blog entry made my head hurt.

recollections of reading: the early years

To kick off this, the last day of Children’s Book Week, I decided to read the two children’s books that I have in my apartment right now: “Barack” by Jonah Winter, illustrated by A.G. Ford and “Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope,” written by Nikki Grimes and illustrated by Bryan Collier. These books were Christmas presents from my brother and sister-in-law. I read them when I got them, and I take them down pretty regularly to look at the pictures, because the pictures in both books are beautiful. But reading them again this morning got me thinking about children’s books I loved when I was little.

One of my very first memories is from when I was 2 or 3. This was before we moved into the house that we live in now, and my new baby brother George and I had to share a room. I remember begging, just begging, to be able to go into the room where George was sleeping so I could get some books. I remember being bored and just thinking I would die if I couldn’t get in there and get some books. But Mom would not let me go in, even though I really didn’t understand what the problem was, because I was sure that I would be super quiet and not wake the baby.

Still, despite Mom’s refusal to let me get books on that day, she rarely ever refused me a book again. She took us to the library all the time. I can still distinctly remember one of the librarians we frequently saw, who had this long red hair that looked kinda gross, perhaps because this particular lady always seemed to have a cold and your books always seemed in eminent danger of getting sneezed on. Still, I loved to go to the library, particularly when summer reading programs would start up.

Well, to be honest, of course I loved any reading program, particularly Accelerated Reader when that came along. Back in my day, kids, the reading list was just two legal-sized sheets, back and front. I’ve seen the list you guys have now and all I can tell you is that if there had been that many points up for grabs when I was a kid, you all would have been TOAST. As it was, I did set an Accelerated Reader record at the elementary school, which was only crushed once kids got that supersized list of books they could choose from. There was also the Book-it program, where for reading books you could slips for a personal pan pizza at Pizza Hut, and also a sticker for a button. Dad thought Pizza Hut was dirty so we never got our buttons completed.

But again, I am not trying to bring up old grievances against my parents by telling you these horror stories of not being allowed to go into the baby’s room or not being allowed to go to Pizza Hut, because my parents have always been very supportive of my book habit. Mom would let me order copiously from book orders and book fairs (and oh, I can remember the excitement that occurred when a new book order form arrived from the teacher), and Dad retrieved the dozens of boxes full of books that I mailed to him from Seattle when I was moving. They even tolerated me reading at inappropriate events, such as an Easter service and football games. They were somewhat less tolerant of the bag of books I needed to take everywhere, which was alluded to in a previous post about Children’s Book Week. What happened is that I got convinced the house would burn down, and I didn’t want to be without books for however long it would take us to get some money to get more books. I was also pretty convinced that I would finish whatever book I was reading before I could get back home again, and I wanted to be sure I had something new to start. And by something new to start, I mean, at least 25 options for something to start.

So what did I read? I remember reading Rainbow Brite books a lot when I was small. I had two, and one was green and one was purple. I liked Berenstain Bears books, and I also liked this book called “We Help Mommy,” because I wanted to believe I was the kind of sweet girl who helped her mommy, even though when push came to shove I didn’t like the getting down and dirty that sometimes accompanied helping out. I think “The Monster at the End of this Book” is an extremely important book that everyone should own.

But that’s all I really remember of straight-up picture books. Very early on I considered it vital that I be allowed into the big kids’ section of the library. I heard later that everyone doubted that I actually read the books, but starting in the first grade I could check out a book a day from the non-picture book section. I liked these books…I don’t know what brand they were or anything, but they were biographies of famous people that focused pretty much exclusively on their childhoods. Like, you would read 180 pages of what Ben Franklin or Juliette Gordon Low were like as children, and then there would be one chapter tacked on the end about how they grew up and became famous. The books were very distinctive looking, but I have no idea who put them out. I wish I knew. I’d like to work for those people.

Along those historical lines, I loved the American Girls books, of course; though, not to sound like an old woman, but back in my day there were only three American Girls (Kirsten, Samantha and Molly) and there were not emporiums where you could go and pick out clothes and dolls – there was a catalogue that came quarterly and that was it. Oh, Molly the American Girl, I can still picture you at your kitchen table refusing to eat your vegetables, and your mom saying you couldn’t leave the table until you ate them, but still you sat there. So stubborn and plucky!

What else? Like most kids, I loved E.B. White, Roald Dahl, Encyclopedia Brown and Beverly Clearly, particularly anything with Ramona in the title. I loved the “Little House” series as much as I loved the television show. I read my way through God knows how many Babysitter’s Club books, including the spin-off titles like Babysitter’s Little Sister and the Summer Super Specials. I was even a member of the fan club for awhile, which was fun because you got cool stuff in the mail, but somewhat sad because a good portion of the mail was about starting your own babysitters’ club, and I just couldn’t get one together. I read Nancy Drew, Anne of Green Gables, and Judy Blume (“Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret” when totally over my head because I read it when I was far too young but I adored “Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing”).

“Bridge to Terabithia” was the first book that made me cry, and also the first book that slightly scandalized me because there was a “dammit” or something like that in the first few pages. I refuse to see any movie that is based on that book. I liked Avi. I liked Louis Sachar’s “Sideways Stories from Wayside School” and still occasionally find myself referencing some of the stories in conversations. I took a Super Saturday class on the Chronicles of Narnia, and debated with people about whether it was better to read the books in chronological order or in the order that they came numbered in the box set. One year the church did a Lenten program on “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe,” so they showed a bit of the cartoon movie each Wednesday night. One of my best memories of my grandmother Kink is when she got up to do a recap of the previous week’s episode, and she told that story better than C.S. Lewis himself.

Pretty early on I did start heading for slightly more adult fare, like Mary Higgins Clark and Agatha Christie. But I still go through phases when I read a lot of kids’ books. Particularly when I lived in Seattle—that’s when I read most of the Newbery and Caldecott medal books, just for the hell of it, cause I was unemployed and had lots of time to sit in bookstores and libraries. That’s when I devoured the Lemony Snicket books and where I read the last half of the Harry Potter series.

I think those are the majority of my children’ book-related memories, and you gotta admit, those are some pretty great memories. So that’s why a week like Children’s Book Week is so important. I hope kids read more and don’t just play on the internet or watch the television, though I do think there’s enough time in childhood to do those things too. Well, actually I don’t know about the internet thing, we didn’t have that til I was in high school. But I think in honor of Children’s Book Week we should all go read something right NOW, and if you have kids, make them read something too. Sometimes I worry that if I have kids that don’t like to read, I won’t know how to relate to them, but that’s an anxiety to discuss on another day. For now, let’s all go read.

a night at the ballet

On Friday night, to celebrate Children’s Book Week, I headed off to see the Atlanta Ballet perform a literary-inspired work, Don Quixote. Well, it wasn’t only to celebrate Children’s Book Week; I’d had the tickets for weeks. But it felt like an apt way to observe the event, because there were a lot of children there, and it was literary inspired.

Though the ballet is called Don Quixote, the man himself plays a very minor role; while he does make a half-hearted dash at a windmill, he mostly sits on the sidelines and watches other people dance. My theory on this is that if he did dance, people would get all the songs from the musical “Man of La Mancha” stuck in their heads. Cause I for one know that I was subconsciously listening for songs from that fine film when the orchestra started playing.

So, Don Quixote doesn’t dance. He leaves that to the young whippersnappers Kitri and Basilio, who are madly in love and must express this emotion through DANCING. So dance they do, all through three acts. But sometimes their dancing is foiled by Gamache, described in my program as a wealthy fop, who, from my seat, somewhat resembled Austin Scarlett from Project Runway Season 1. Gamache is good comic relief, as was Sancho Panza, as were the little girls who were seated three rows in front of us who were clearly enjoying a night in their fancy dresses. There was one girl, wearing this green sparkly dress, and I wondered of her, if this is what she wears to the ballet when she’s 12, what will she wear to the prom when she’s 17? But I digress.

In the first act of this ballet, all the dancing takes place in a marketplace, which is a convenient setting because there’s lots of reasons why lots of people would wander through a marketplace and suddenly feel compelled to DANCE. In this act, I was somewhat uncomfortable watching the dancers who went up on their toes, and I kept thinking, “NO! You’ll ruin your feet, pretty girl! Please stop dancing like that!” but by the end of the ballet, I was more like, “Get up on your toes and dance for me, dancing monkey!”

After the marketplace, action moved to a gypsy camp, where Kitri and Basilio get the blessing of some gypsies who read their palms to get married, and they head off-stage to do some private dancing, one imagines. Don Quixote makes a feeble stab at a windmill which so immediately exhausts him that he must fall to sleep at once and have a beautiful dream of dryads and little cupids dancing.

When he wakes up, it’s time to go to the tavern where Kitri and Basilio manage to get rid of that Gamache through ingenious means and then they get married. Marriage is symbolized in ballet by a lot of beautiful dancing, to the point that I made a mental note that I must get ballerinas for my wedding. It would be ideal if I could get the girl who played Kitri cause she was amazing. Seriously, it was an immensely beautiful scene and if all the little children who were at the performance didn’t leave with a burning desire to read Don Quixote at once, then they at least left with the unrealistic dream that they should become ballerinas. Or maybe that was just me.

Well, while I haven’t seen a ton of ballets in my day, I must say that this was definitely the best one I’ve ever seen. The costumes were beautiful, the sets were amazing, the music was fantastic and all the tiny little dancers gave it their all. In the case of Basilio, I say that quite literally cause he was wearing nude tights at one point and you could definitely see everything.

One Evening... (prompt 7 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Seven: “One Evening…” Begun by Lemony Snicket and completed Molly.

This is the sort of story you should never read at night, because it is full of things that are frightening to think about when it is dark, such as hungry wolf, a bottle of poison, and a locked box with a terrible secret inside. However, the story is not at all frightening at the beginning, when a young girl named Roweena is living in a small cottage in the middle of the forest with two lumberjacks who are both named Tim. One evening, when Tim, Tim and Roweena were all having dinner, there was a knock on the door, but before anyone could answer it,...

Roweena’s cell phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey, it’s Molly!”

“Oh, Molly, I might have to call you back, we just had a knock on the door.”

“No! Don’t answer it!”

“Why?”

“Because if you answer that door, then you will begin a story that involves a hungry wolf, a bottle of poison, and a locked box with a terrible secret inside!”

“Oh my! Well, that does make sense. After all, we are in a story that was begun by acclaimed author Lemony Snicket.”

“True enough, and though I am a fan of Mr. Snicket’s work, I must demand that you not open that door, because I am finishing the story, and I am frankly just too tired to think of a scenario that includes a hungry wolf, a bottle of poison, and a locked box with a terrible secret inside!”

“You’re terribly lazy, Molly!”

“True enough. Fine, Roweena, if you want to open the door, do it.”

“Then I will, you lazy horrible writer.”

Roweena opened the door where she was greeted by a hungry wolf holding a locked box with a terrible secret inside. Luckily, Roweena had the key for the box right around her neck. She opened the box and was greeted by a note. It said, “You just drank poison, Roweena.”

“What a horrible secret!” Roweena exclaimed before she died. “Turns out that bottle of Diet Coke was actually a bottle of poison!”

Once Roweena had expired, the hungry wolf sat down at Roweena’s place and ate her meal. Tim and Tim vowed never to doubt Molly or call her lazy again.

One Morning... (prompt 6 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Six: “One Morning…” Begun by Mary Pope Osborne and completed by Molly

“I’m cold,” said Annie, sitting on the front porch.

“Me, too,” said Jack, shivering. “Let’s go inside.”

“Wait! Look!” said Annie. “Over there!”

“It’s a store that sells coats!” exclaimed Jack. “How did we never notice this before?”

Annie and Jack went over to the store that sold coats (Burlington Coat Factory) and they each purchased a jacket. Then, they were very warm. They went back to sit on the porch, and they managed to sit there for months until one morning…

“I’m hot,” said Annie, sitting on the front porch.

“Me too,” said Jack, sweating. “Let’s go inside.”

“Wait! Look!” said Annie. “Over there!”

“It’s a swimming pool!” exclaimed Jack. “How did we never notice this before?”

Annie and Jack went over to the swimming pool, but then they had to return to Burlington Coat Factory to buy swimsuits. Once they were properly attired, they went back to the swimming pool and jumped in. They cooled off immediately. They swam for hours and hours until they turned into prunes. They got out of the pool and sat in a deck chair.

“Hey Annie?”

“Yes, Jack?”

“Maybe we should spend more time exploring instead of sitting on our porch all the time. As it turns out, we live in a pretty interesting neighborhood, what with this Burlington Coat Factory and this swimming pool.”

“You’re right, Jack. We need to experience life!”

That night Annie and Jack robbed a convenience store and were sent to jail, which they found pretty similar to sitting on the porch, so it worked out well for them.

The Secret I Can't Actually Tell People Yet! (prompt 5 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Five: “The Secret I Can’t Actually Tell People Yet!” begun by Barbara Park and completed by Molly

Dear first-grade journal,
I’VE GOT A SECRET!
I’VE GOT A SECRET!
Only Mother and Daddy said I can’t actually tell people yet!
But a journal is not even people! And so I am just going to write it in these pages. And that’s all!
Last night, ….

I got to hang out with the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus! It’s because Daddy kidnapped them, and that is part of why I am not supposed to tell anybody. Mother says Daddy is mentally disturbed and that’s why she gave everyone two scoops of ice cream instead of just one. She cried when Miley Cyrus said that she was going to make sure that we went to jail for a long time, and she kept crying because Miley Cyrus just kept talking. Mother has told me before that she finds Miley Cyrus’s voice very annoying!

Miley got mad when I asked how to do the “Achy Breaky Heart” dance that her father is so famous for, but the Jonas Brothers don’t get mad about anything! So far we have played ping-pong, air hockey, and four games on the Wii! I don’t think they even know that they’ve been kidnapped. They just keep asking what exactly it is that Daddy does for Disney. They are always talking to cameras that are not even there and they always ask what time they have to perform. I found one of them in the bathroom with Mother’s flat iron.

Daddy hasn’t done very much since he brought Miley and the Jonases home. He kind of curled up in a ball on the couch for awhile, and then he asked me to bring him my High School Musical DVD’s. He smashed them, but I don’t mind. I’m going to have Miley and the Jonas Brothers act out High School Musical for me everyday! I also have some big plans involving a remake of the Wizard of Oz. Miley will play Dorothy, and the Jonas Brothers will be the scarecrow, tin man, and lion. It is going to be the most awesome thing ever and I am going to be the only one who sees it because this is a big secret! No one but me can know who we’ve got in our basement! Don’t tell, Journal!

Obviously, everyone at school is pretty concerned, and I hear the bigger kids talking about all the rumors that are floating around on the Internet. Some people think that Miley and the Jonas Brothers moved to Utah and all got married to each other, and now they are living out some polygamous lifestyle, whatever that means! Other kids are saying that they faked their own deaths and are out living on an island with Tupac, who is going to teach them how to release posthumous albums, whatever that means.

And the last crazy thing I heard was that some security guard grabbed them at their last concert and is going to sell them on the black market China so that he can pay his mortgage. I don’t mind telling you, Journal, that that rumor hit a little close to home because I know we are having trouble paying our mortgage in the middle of this recession. However, Daddy doesn’t even work as a security guard, because he doesn’t work at all, so I know it can’t be true!

Anyways, after school today I am hoping we can all play some Uno! Hooray for secrets!

Tutu is a Funny Name for a Guy (prompt 4 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Four: “Tutu Is A Funny Nickname for A Guy” begun by Eoin Colfer and completed by Molly

“Tutu is a funny nickname for a guy,” said Gerry Green Socks, picking his teeth with a chicken’s foot.

“That it is,” agreed Jimmy Tutu mildly, laying back on a sack of grain and rubbing his full stomach.

Gerry consulted his encyclopedic brain. “The only tutu I got is a ballet dancer’s costume. You know, like a bodice and a skirt thing.”

“That’s the one,” said Jimmy Tutu, knowing he was going to have to tell the story for perhaps the thousandth time, wishing Gerry would allow him ten minutes to digest his meal and knowing he wouldn’t.

“So, you gonna tell me,” pushed Gerry, wiggling threatening fingers over his laces. “Or do I have to take my boots off.”

Jimmy sat bolt upright, forgetting all about his digestion. “Hey, no, don’t take them off. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”

Gerry backed his hands away from the boots as though they were loaded, which in a way they were.

Jimmy sighed. “You gotta picture it. Fifty years ago. Europe has collapsed. China invents the timewarp train, and a ten year old plasma thief gets chased into a Broadway theatre…”

“What’s timewarp?” asked Gerry.

“It’s a thing from the future, which is where I’m from, beeyotch!” Jimmy stood up, pulled out his gun and killed Gerry. “Oh, by the way, they call me Jimmy Tutu because it’s a good distracting name for luring in my enemies, catching them off-guard, and killing them. Aren’t you glad you know now?

And with that, Gerry heaved his last breath. Jimmy Tutu set off for the future, where he had a lovely lady waiting for him.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Molly's note: Sorry, this prompt didn’t really do anything for me. It made my brain hurt. I’m not even sure I understood it.

Surprise on the Mat (prompt 3 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Three: “Surprise on the Mat” begun by Lola Schaefer and completed by Molly

Crocker never wanted to be on the wrestling team. He really didn’t.

But here he was – on the mat, not ready at all for his first match.

He turned to face his opponent.

“It can’t be,” he said under his breath.

But it was.

Crocker was going to have to fight Macho Man Randy Savage.

You see, tough times had fallen on Macho Man Randy Savage ever since the Slim Jim money ran out, and since he couldn’t get a regular television wrestling gig anymore, he had started taking small paydays to face high school wrestlers. Schools were willing to pay because it got more people to come to wrestling matches.

“Crap,” Crocker whispered under his breath as Macho Man Randy Savage ran around the ring in his fringed jacket, yelling “Oooooh yeah!” Crocker had thought the strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” that he had heard earlier were just band practice. But no, it was Macho Man entering the gym. Now Crocker was going to get his ass kicked by a former childhood hero.

“I’m gonna go Mickey Rourke on your ass,” Macho Man said.

“Please don’t, Macho Man,” Crocker pleaded. Macho Man hit him in the gut.

The referee stepped in. “High school wrestling, Mr. Savage,” he said.

“Sorry, ref,” Macho Man said, before getting Crocker in a headlock that was no less painful than being hit in the gut.

“Please don’t hurt me, Macho Man,” Crocker gasped. “You were my favorite wrestler growing up.”

Macho Man loosened his grip a little bit. “Really?” he asked. “You liked me better than Hulk Hogan?”

“Of course,” Crocker said. “I was with you through your feuds with Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man. I was with you even when you replaced Miss Elizabeth with Sensational Sherri and became the evil Macho King. I watched Hulk Hogan defeat you in the career match at Wrestlemania VII, and then I shed a few tears as Miss Elizabeth came and rescued you from Sensational Sherri.”

“Did you know that both Miss Elizabeth and Sensational Sherri are dead now?” asked Macho Man.

“Yes, I did, Macho Man, and don’t think I didn’t let the occasion pass without shedding a few tears. I’ll still never forget how you married Miss Elizabeth in the ring at SummerSlam, only to have the wedding reception crashed by that bastard, Jake the Snake.”

By this point, the Macho Man had completely released his grip on Crocker. The baffled referee asked, “Are we going to wrestle today, gentlemen?”

“No,” said Macho Man. “This kid is playing the Evan Rachel Wood part in the movie that is my life which would be called ‘The Wrestler’ if that title had not just been taken. So I am going to take him out for some ice cream and some thrift store clothes.”

And that is how Crocker avoided getting his ass kicked by Macho Man Randy Savage.

The Unexpected Blast (prompt 2 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt Two: “The Unexpected Blast” begun by Elaine Landau and completed by Molly

It all started the summer we visited our uncle in South America. The volcano near the village where we were staying was supposed to be inactive, yet lately steam had been leaking from it. My little brother and I were near the foot of the volcano the morning it began to shake. Suddenly, its north side collapsed. Clouds of rock and ash shot into the air. Lava and mudflows now blocked our path back to our uncle’s cabin. My little brother was crying, and I knew I had to think fast. So I……

…immediately started searching for someone we could sacrifice to the volcano. Clearly, the volcano gods were angry, and I had to appease them with live flesh. My crybaby little brother seemed like a good option, but I had a feeling that my family wouldn’t forgive me and since I was only nine I really couldn’t stand to lose their financial support at this point in my life.

So if I couldn’t sacrifice my brother, who could I sacrifice? Tom Hanks was nowhere to be seen, though I allowed myself a few seconds to chuckle at such a clever joke, even though at the age of 9 I really shouldn’t have been seeing a movie such as “Joe Versus the Volcano,” and may I note that the person writing this story really shouldn’t have wasted valuable writing time looking up the rating of “Joe Versus the Volcano” on Netflix? As it turns out the movie was only rated PG, so maybe there was a chance that a 9-year-old could have seen it. But I digress.

“Who can we sacrifice?” I asked my little brother. “I must get out of this adventure so I can see the new Tom Hanks movie! Because it takes place at the Vatican and you know how I love popes!” At this moment in my life, with lava and mudflows running toward me, I was starting to wonder why Tom Hanks was completely consuming my life. After all, I was only 9, and here I was having numerous thoughts about the work of Tom Hanks. If I died in this horrific volcano accident, there was a good chance I’d miss the inevitable “Forrest Gump” sequel I’m convinced he’ll make if he gets desperate enough!

Shit, time was running out and now all I can think about is Tom Hanks’ moving performance in “Philadelphia!” And how great he was in “A League of their Own!” I try to channel Tom Hanks circa 1995, which was when “Apollo 13” came out, because in that movie TH was confronted with a life-threatening situation just like this one! Except the difference between me and Tom Hanks is that in that film, Tom Hanks was working with a script based on a book by astronaut Jim Lovell, and I am working with a writer who seems more interested in updating her Netflix queue than in getting me out of this mess in her allotted 15 minutes of writing time.

In the end, I sacrificed my brother to the volcano gods, mainly because time was up and I didn’t want to die without seeing “The Great Buck Howard,” featuring both Tom Hanks and his son Colin Hanks, which is coming to DVD in the near future.

And then... (prompt 1 of 7)

As I noted on Thursday, we are in the midst of Children’s Book Week! However, we only have a few days to celebrate, because it ends tomorrow. One of the main ways for celebrating this event, based on my perusal of the website, is to write stories based on prompts that are provided by famous authors as well as people just connected with the event.

So today I sat down and worked my way through all the prompts. I only gave myself 15 minutes to complete each prompt (because I don’t want to shame the kids who might be participating). So what you will find in bold, below, is the prompt given on the website, and then in non-bold, you will see where I decided to take the story. Happy Children’s Book Week!

Prompt One: “And Then….” Begun by National Ambassador Jon Scieszka and completed by Molly.

The guy at the pet store said he was pretty sure it was a Green Basilisk Lizard egg. But man, was he wrong. He could not have been more wrong. Now the newspaper wants to know what happened to my little brother, that nice old lady down the street, the left side of Washington Elementary School, and the three jets, two helicopters, four tanks, and 36,000 gallons of Marshmallow Fluff. They will probably cover up the true story. But here’s what really happened….

When this alleged “Green Basilisk Lizard egg” hatched, it hatched not my long-awaited Green Basilisk Lizard but in fact a little army of sea monkeys. It was freaky to see that many sea monkeys emerge from the egg, it was sort of like a clown car, in fact. But I had no idea how freaky it was about to get, because as soon as all the little sea monkeys were out of the egg, they started lining up in formations that spelled out words. Here is what they said:

“No more Mr. Nice Sea Monkeys…We are here to destroy your planet….First, though, we are hungry. Would you mind getting us 36,000 gallons of Marshmallow Fluff?”

That took about 20 minutes to spell out because they are so tiny. At this point, I was pretty hungry too, and now that they mentioned it, I could really go for some Marshmallow Fluff, so we headed down to the corner market and started going to town on every single thing of Marshmallow Fluff we could find, which was quite a lot actually, because I live in a town that manufactures Marshmallow Fluff. My little brother came along and started eating Marshmallow Fluff also, but it turns out he’s a diabetic so he really shouldn’t have been doing that. He died.

Another person who died while me and the sea monkeys ate Marshmallow Fluff was that “nice” old lady down the street, who tried to prevent us from eating any more Marshmallow Fluff. I was pretty hopped up on sugar by that point so I killed her with my bare hands. After eating so much Marshmallow Fluff, the sea monkeys were gigantic! They decided they wanted to steal three jets, two helicopters and four tanks from the local army base, and who was I to stop them? A sad little boy who had just watched his brother die from eating too much Marshmallow Fluff. Plus, I was still covered in all that little old lady’s blood.

The sea monkeys went off to steal their equipment from the military, and I was left to my own devices, which for awhile just consisted of eating chocolate and graham crackers in an effort to make smores in my stomach. Then I started feeling kind of gross so I went over to Washington Elementary School and threw up all over the left side of it. I mean, all over. I think I was throwing up things I ate last Tuesday.

So no matter how the newspaper, which is just a mouthpiece for fat cat conservatives, decides how they want to spin this story of what happened to my little brother, that nice old lady down the street, the left side of Washington Elementary School, and the three jets, two helicopters, four tanks and 36,000 gallons of Marshmallow Fluff, just remember this: never buy a Green Basilisk Lizard egg from the local pet store. Not that you’ll have much of a chance. From what I hear, the sea monkey army went after all the local pet stores first.

we are in the midst of a holiday!!

Guys! Did you know that we are smack dab in the middle of Children’s Book Week??!!? Well, we are, and even though we are getting a late start, we are going to celebrate this monumental occasion on the blog. To get us started, here are some fun facts about Children’s Book Week!

--It is being observed from May 11 to May 17 this year. In 2010 it will be celebrated from May 10 to May 16 and in 2011 it will be from May 2 to May 8!

--It has been celebrated since 1919!

--Every year they announce the Children’s Choice Book Awards Winners! This year that Twilight book won in the teen category; it was the only winning book I had heard of.

--The anchor sponsors are Toys for Tots and Amazon!!!

If you go to the Children’s Book Week website then you can learn tons of other awesome facts very similar to the ones above. You can also download the official 2009 Children’s Book Week bookmark and poster, but frankly, those things didn’t really do it for me. Didn’t have quite the pizzazz Children’s Book Week deserves. That’s why I took it upon myself to design three new posters:

More fun to come!!! We’re going to have the best 3 ½ day celebration of Children’s Book Week possible!!!

Book #8: The Quest for Immortality: Science at the Frontiers of Aging

In September of last year, I had the opportunity to attend a health journalism conference. Over dinner one night, our speaker was S. Jay Olshansky, who aroused everyone’s interest by passing around a vial of pills. The pills were offered to anyone who wanted one, and the company who made them claimed that with this pill, you could live forever. It turns out the pills were Tic-Tacs. You gotta be flashy when you’re a dinner speaker, I guess.

Olshansky went on to detail the ways that humans have tried to find immortality and prevent aging over history. He detailed a few of the key theories out there now about postponing aging, so that we live longer, but with fewer of the infirmities and frailties of old age. Then he proposed that a pill that could just that might be available on the market within our lifetimes. It was terribly exciting stuff.

Which was why I had high hopes for a book that S. Jay Olshansky co-authored with Bruce A. Carnes, entitled “The Quest for Immortality: Science at the Frontiers of Aging.” I’ve been writing about some aging-related issues at work lately, and I have an upcoming article about whether we could end aging, the central theme of Olshansky’s speech. I’ve been looking forward to reading this book, churning out a magnum opus of an article, and then sitting back and waiting for this immortality pill to appear.

Well, this book had very little of that optimism and fun that I remember from Olshansky’s speech; perhaps the wine and chocolate cake served with dinner had me too giddy for my own good. Instead, this book is kind of a Debbie Downer sort of book, that basically tells us that we’re lucky we live so long in the first place, because none of our ancestors did. And the only reason we live longer is because we figured out the issues of sanitation and malnutrition and immunization that were affecting newborn babies – by fixing the conditions for babies, the average lifespan for everyone went up. But once it did, and more people aged, then we realized that aging sucks because it includes things like dementia and convalescence and cancer. Whoopee.

Olshansky and Carnes review the work of scientists who view aging as yet another disease, something we can conquer, and they don’t turn up much in the way of a solution. The only thing we could conceivably do, based on my reading of the book, is freeze our eggs and sperm, sit around and see who lives the longest and healthiest, and then only use their eggs and sperm to continue the species. Not too appealing. Once we hit puberty, we are ticking time bombs. We need to reproduce, and once those years are over, then nature doesn’t care if we live or die.

So, to review, this is what I got from this book:
1. Why are you complaining about aging, you punk? The people alive today are the only people who have ever gotten to. WHY CAN’T YOU BE HAPPY ABOUT THAT?

2. Have a baby! It’s what you’re here for. Then go ahead and die, because you’ve served your evolutionary purpose and your baby needs the resources.

3. Okay, if you are looking into ways to live longer, better not believe anything anyone tells you because no one but S. Jay Olshansky and Bruce A. Carnes can read scientific data correctly, so what everyone else tells you is just a LIE to get your money.

4. Also, even if you imagine a cutting-edge world where doctors can fix things in your body that go wrong, then they will probably inadvertently make tweaks that screw up something else.

Hooray! So that’s what I have to write about in the coming week in a simplified nutshell. I guess I’m ultimately not too concerned about it. We’ll probably all evolve into robots that won’t have to worry about disease sometime soon anyways.

And if anyone wants to know, I read 230 pages to find out that regular exercise is the only thing that can truly be proven to be good for you, and that I personally, as a 27-year old, have 19,577 days of life left.

Book #7: The Complete Maus

"Maus," by Art Spiegelman, is a book I never would have read if it didn’t keep popping up lists of books that I should know about and consume. Best of the best types of lists, and it makes me uneasy when there are books on best-of lists that I haven’t read. So I sat down with “The Complete Maus,” in which Spiegelman tries to make sense of his father’s life story. He has to make sense of the horrific life his father lived before he was even born, as a Jew forced into concentration camps during the Holocaust. And he has to make sense of the man that his father has become, a cranky, miserly, demanding old man, a man so miserable that his wife, Spiegelman’s mother, committed suicide.

Well, if you’re going to conquer a story like that, you might as well use a graphic novel format and draw your main characters as animals. In this book, Jews are drawn as mice, and the Germans are drawn as cats. There are all sorts of deep things going on with this – the Germans called the Jews “vermin” and using animals shows how dehumanizing the whole period of time was. And the format makes this story on the one hand palatable, since it’s very easy to keep reading a comic book than to consume massive amounts of text when you’re trying to understand the awful things happening…but even in comic book form, the horrible things that happen to a mouse are enough to make you stop, pause and remember this happened to humans. I feel like I’m not being very insightful or original about this because I’m tired, but suffice it to say that you know, I can see how it won the Pulitzer Prize and is considered so influential and whatnot. But then, I haven’t read a ton of graphic novels, so maybe it’s easy for me to buy into the hype.

I also just liked the story on a writerly level; Spiegelman inserts himself into the story as a guy trying to drag this story out of his grumpy dad. I know he was doing that so he could write a book that could be published, but I read it more just as a diary, as a way for this guy to write down the story so it could always be there, unlike his mother’s journals, which his father burned. It may not be a perfect record of what happened to his family in the past, but it’s all he has, and at the end of the day, all kids have is what their parents told them, whether it was true or not. Or whether it was as historic as this or not. It was what it was. As Spiegelman the character tells a reporter in the book, “I never thought of reducing it to a message.” So maybe I should stop trying to find one, and go to bed.