On the first day of this new semester, I gave my juniors a copy of John Updike's poem "Ex-Basketball Player." Upon returning home, I learned that John Updike died today, at the age of 76.
Rabbit at Rest is still raw in my mind -- that one went straight to my core. I was telling my students today that I really think he'll be remembered right alongside Fitzgerald and Steinbeck someday.
What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit. -- John Updike
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
25 Random Things
I've been "tagged" to do this little meme on Facebook about a dozen times now, and tonight it seemed like a good distraction from planning for the new semester (which starts tomorrow, if anyone is keeping track). The idea is that once you're tagged, you're supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about yourself, and then tag 25 people to do the same. Cute, right?
Anyway, it requires very little concentration, and I needed the break from figuring out what I'm going to do with my brand-new sophomores tomorrow. So here are mine, in no particular order:
1. I almost never have to set an alarm clock, but when I do, my OCD kicks into high gear and I have to check it at least fifteen times before I can fall asleep. (Okay, I have to check both of them at least fifteen times. Because I set two. One runs on batteries in case the power goes out, and the other one is plugged in in case the batteries die.)
2. Gin-and-tonics are my weakness.
3. I've met Sherman Alexie twice and probably acted like a total dork, but I don't care, because all of my books are signed (and he wrote that he LOVED ME in one of them) and I had my picture taken with his arm around me. Swoon.
4. I hate shopping for clothes, but I love shopping for books. And I actually read the books I buy. And then I write about them, because I'm nerdy like that.
5. Growing up I always thought I was a cat person, but when I moved into my first apartment after college and got a pug, I realized I'm actually much more of a dog person. My husband is relieved.
6. I love road trips. And I'm completely happy taking vacations to obscure towns in places that cause other people to frown and ask, "What's there?" I'd also rather drive than fly any day, even if it's halfway across the country.
7. I've kept an online journal since my senior year of college, but I've only recently (well, sort of recently) started keeping a public blog. That's this one, by the way. And also, I hate the word blog.
8. If I couldn't write, I would probably kill myself.
9. I used to have really blonde hair. During my pregnancy with Suzannah, it somehow turned dark. Well, darkish. I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I'm incapable of maintaining highlights, so I'm just going to have to deal.
10. I teach high school English, and most of the time, I completely love my job. I've been teaching part-time since I had Suzannah, and I think I've found a pretty wonderful balance between my mother-self and my professional-self.
11. I grew up in Montana, went to college in Minnesota, and live in Washington state. I really love living where I'm at -- I've never regretted moving here -- but I deeply miss both Montana and Minnesota and everything in-between. I also miss cold, snowy winters. I mean it.
12. I sing a lot. This is what happens when one has a child, I suppose. Suzannah and I sing all over the place. She loves everything from Sesame Street and all the usual toddler favorites to The Ramones and Belle & Sebastian -- we're raising a well-rounded kid.
13. One of my ways of coping with anxiety (or just plain angst) is to go for a drive alone at night, listening to music and singing.
14. I've been with my husband for almost nine years (married for just over six). About a week after we started dating back in 2000, I wrote in my journal that I'd found the boy I would marry, although I did not share this particular revelation with him.
15. Last weekend, I began watching the first season of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. I'd never seen it before, and I have found MY NEW HAPPY PLACE.
16. We don't have cable television, nor do we have plans to get it. I don't even remember the last time I watched TV that wasn't on DVD. (TV on DVD, though? That's another weakness.) I read the news every day, and Matt and I have always agreed that cable would eat up time we'd really rather spend doing other things. Part of me wants to get rid of the TV altogether, but we do love our movies. And I love my reruns of Friends and Twin Peaks and Veronica Mars and -- gulp -- MacGyver.
17. I'm a neat-freak, and my husband is definitely not. Matt thinks it's weird that I find it so sexy when he deep-cleans the kitchen, but he humors me anyway.
18. I brush my teeth three times a day -- including after lunch in the bathroom at school. People make fun of me for this, but you know what? They never have to scrape my teeth when I go in for cleanings. I'll take the mocking, because I HATE THE SCRAPING.
19. Despite the internet (and all the People Who Parent Better Than Me) standing around chanting "You're doing it wrong!" we co-slept with Suzannah from the time she was born until she made it perfectly clear she wanted her own space, and she breastfed until she self-weaned at 23-ish months. I'm sure I'll eventually drive her into therapy, but probably not for either of those things.
20. Popcorn with butter and salt = another weakness. My dad makes it best in this ancient popcorn popper he's had since he graduated from high school, but when I can't have that, Pop Secret Homestyle works.
21. I'm passionately, vehemently anti-censorship when it comes to literature. This makes my job interesting, because some parents (not many, but enough) in my district love to protest things. Like ideas. And uncomfortable-but-important conversations.
22. My life was so much easier before I had Suzannah -- but I wouldn't trade my worst day with her for my best day without her. I really, really love this Mama thing.
23. I'm going to turn 30 in a few weeks, and I have surprisingly little angst about this (because people are apparently supposed to freak out about turning 30). I'm a much healthier, happier person now than I was at 20.
24. I haven't had a new cell phone in over three years, and I don't really care. I'm just -- not a cell phone person.
25. I'm addicted to blank books and pens (weaknesses! More weaknesses!).
Anyway, it requires very little concentration, and I needed the break from figuring out what I'm going to do with my brand-new sophomores tomorrow. So here are mine, in no particular order:
1. I almost never have to set an alarm clock, but when I do, my OCD kicks into high gear and I have to check it at least fifteen times before I can fall asleep. (Okay, I have to check both of them at least fifteen times. Because I set two. One runs on batteries in case the power goes out, and the other one is plugged in in case the batteries die.)
2. Gin-and-tonics are my weakness.
3. I've met Sherman Alexie twice and probably acted like a total dork, but I don't care, because all of my books are signed (and he wrote that he LOVED ME in one of them) and I had my picture taken with his arm around me. Swoon.
4. I hate shopping for clothes, but I love shopping for books. And I actually read the books I buy. And then I write about them, because I'm nerdy like that.
5. Growing up I always thought I was a cat person, but when I moved into my first apartment after college and got a pug, I realized I'm actually much more of a dog person. My husband is relieved.
6. I love road trips. And I'm completely happy taking vacations to obscure towns in places that cause other people to frown and ask, "What's there?" I'd also rather drive than fly any day, even if it's halfway across the country.
7. I've kept an online journal since my senior year of college, but I've only recently (well, sort of recently) started keeping a public blog. That's this one, by the way. And also, I hate the word blog.
8. If I couldn't write, I would probably kill myself.
9. I used to have really blonde hair. During my pregnancy with Suzannah, it somehow turned dark. Well, darkish. I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I'm incapable of maintaining highlights, so I'm just going to have to deal.
10. I teach high school English, and most of the time, I completely love my job. I've been teaching part-time since I had Suzannah, and I think I've found a pretty wonderful balance between my mother-self and my professional-self.
11. I grew up in Montana, went to college in Minnesota, and live in Washington state. I really love living where I'm at -- I've never regretted moving here -- but I deeply miss both Montana and Minnesota and everything in-between. I also miss cold, snowy winters. I mean it.
12. I sing a lot. This is what happens when one has a child, I suppose. Suzannah and I sing all over the place. She loves everything from Sesame Street and all the usual toddler favorites to The Ramones and Belle & Sebastian -- we're raising a well-rounded kid.
13. One of my ways of coping with anxiety (or just plain angst) is to go for a drive alone at night, listening to music and singing.
14. I've been with my husband for almost nine years (married for just over six). About a week after we started dating back in 2000, I wrote in my journal that I'd found the boy I would marry, although I did not share this particular revelation with him.
15. Last weekend, I began watching the first season of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. I'd never seen it before, and I have found MY NEW HAPPY PLACE.
16. We don't have cable television, nor do we have plans to get it. I don't even remember the last time I watched TV that wasn't on DVD. (TV on DVD, though? That's another weakness.) I read the news every day, and Matt and I have always agreed that cable would eat up time we'd really rather spend doing other things. Part of me wants to get rid of the TV altogether, but we do love our movies. And I love my reruns of Friends and Twin Peaks and Veronica Mars and -- gulp -- MacGyver.
17. I'm a neat-freak, and my husband is definitely not. Matt thinks it's weird that I find it so sexy when he deep-cleans the kitchen, but he humors me anyway.
18. I brush my teeth three times a day -- including after lunch in the bathroom at school. People make fun of me for this, but you know what? They never have to scrape my teeth when I go in for cleanings. I'll take the mocking, because I HATE THE SCRAPING.
19. Despite the internet (and all the People Who Parent Better Than Me) standing around chanting "You're doing it wrong!" we co-slept with Suzannah from the time she was born until she made it perfectly clear she wanted her own space, and she breastfed until she self-weaned at 23-ish months. I'm sure I'll eventually drive her into therapy, but probably not for either of those things.
20. Popcorn with butter and salt = another weakness. My dad makes it best in this ancient popcorn popper he's had since he graduated from high school, but when I can't have that, Pop Secret Homestyle works.
21. I'm passionately, vehemently anti-censorship when it comes to literature. This makes my job interesting, because some parents (not many, but enough) in my district love to protest things. Like ideas. And uncomfortable-but-important conversations.
22. My life was so much easier before I had Suzannah -- but I wouldn't trade my worst day with her for my best day without her. I really, really love this Mama thing.
23. I'm going to turn 30 in a few weeks, and I have surprisingly little angst about this (because people are apparently supposed to freak out about turning 30). I'm a much healthier, happier person now than I was at 20.
24. I haven't had a new cell phone in over three years, and I don't really care. I'm just -- not a cell phone person.
25. I'm addicted to blank books and pens (weaknesses! More weaknesses!).
Friday, January 23, 2009
Grandma's Revenge
I've come to realize something. When my daughter frustrates me the most, she's usually acting just like me.
It's a humbling thing.
(I'm pretending that I can't see my mother's face as she reads this. Or hear her smug little "Hah!")
It's a humbling thing.
(I'm pretending that I can't see my mother's face as she reads this. Or hear her smug little "Hah!")
Sunday, January 18, 2009
A return to normalcy (maybe)
The problem with getting out of the habit of writing here is that I think I have to come back with an AMAZING and THOROUGHLY DETAILED update that covers every thought I've had in the last two months. (Except trust me, you don't actually want to read every thought I've had in the last two months.) So I've been putting it off, because nothing I can write now will meet my own ridiculous standard. This morning, I've decided to pour myself a cup of coffee and just try getting reacquainted with this space.
I do wish I'd written more about Christmas. I had Big Plans for a Christmas entry. We drove to Montana (and survived nicely, obviously; we made it out of here before Snoqualmie Pass closed and more snow fell on Seattle than I have ever seen here) and spent a happy ten days there. Matt's parents and my Grandma Griffith even joined us, so after more than a week of attention from five grandparents, Suzannah is pretty much ruined. We're only just beginning to recover, and if you think I'm exaggerating because you think I'm prone to that (though I don't know why you would), let me just tell you that my two-year-old took exactly one-and-a-half naps in ten days, and I thought she'd never again go to bed without a tantrum in her life. My girl has never been fond of sleeping much, but this was ridiculous. She nearly stayed in Montana. (One thing that helped her finally go to sleep? Bringing her new toaster to bed. My father-in-law made it to go along with the wood play kitchen he built for her over the summer, and it's just so awesome -- he used parts from an old toaster for the inside, and the wood bread slices actually pop up and down. She loves it, and we make lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I have to pretend to eat. And she had to sleep with that toaster every night. Now, she allows it to stay in her "kitchen" and is back to sleeping with Cookie Monster, but it was awfully cute -- if a bit weird -- for awhile.)
(And this is what a half-nap looks like, by the way. It happens when a child hasn't slept in three days and passes out on the couch during Christmas Eve Dinner. Note the flatbread still in her hand. Also, I should mention that this is a testament to how exhausted she was, because my daughter has never been one of those kids who just wears herself out until she falls asleep playing somewhere. She sleeps in her bed. Period. Or the car.)
Of course, according to my mother, she was a perfect angel on our anniversary. Matt and I spent our first! night! alone! together! since Suzannah was born; we treated ourselves to a night at the 320 Ranch, which is where we honeymooned six years ago. It was wonderful -- think little log cabin in the woods, a sleigh ride in the mountains, and one of the best dinners I've ever had (and I didn't have to worry about whether the menu included chicken tenders and mandarin oranges or whether there would be crayons at the table). We were really, really ready for this -- as in, we didn't call home once to check in.
Now we're back home in the Pacific Northwest, land of wet and green Januaries. I think Suzannah dearly misses the snow, because for a week after we returned she insisted on taking her mittens to bed with her and sleeping with them clutched against her chest. She woke up me up at three o'clock in the morning once, crying because they'd fallen on the floor and she couldn't find them in the dark. Toasters and mittens -- that's my girl.
Finally, I've been meaning to do this for a long time. About a month ago, my friend Nikki gave me this blog award:
It felt like a hug on a night when I really needed one, and I'd like to pass it along to just a few of the people I particularly enjoy reading, especially since I don't tell them that often enough. (I'd give it right back to Nikki, too, because I've loved her writing as long as I've known her.)
I've been reading Kelli (I Like Tulips) for years. I don't remember who first pointed me in the direction of her online journal so long ago, but I do remember that person writing that her journal was one of the most interesting blogs she read.
I work with Kyanne (Cookbook's Book) and basically, we share a brain, but that's not why I'm including her here. If you have a bad day, read her blog and count your blessings (or at least laugh, which I usually do) -- at least your dog probably hasn't stolen, eaten, and pooped into the backyard the dinner you were cooking, your new pair of shoes, the kitchen sink, and an entire preschool class.
I've known Anne (Married to a Poet) for years. She is a thoughtful reader, beautiful writer, wonderful friend, and new mother (so she may not have much time for blogging these days, but she deserves this anyway). She's one of my favorite people in the world.
I've known my other Anne (In the Midst of Motherhood) since we were in the sixth grade at East Middle School in Great Falls, Montana. She lives in Florida with her family now, and we met up for the first time in years last winter when she traveled to Portland for a wedding. As it is with the best of old friends, it was as though no time had passed. She writes about all things related to motherhood -- breastfeeding, birthing, attachment parenting, cooking, and wrangling two rambunctious toddlers.
Amy (When It's Time I Will Be Ready) is more awesome than I can tell you. We love a lot of the same authors, and this girl can write. I met her in West Seattle when she visited the west coast a few years ago, and she was just as fabulous in person as she is online.
I do wish I'd written more about Christmas. I had Big Plans for a Christmas entry. We drove to Montana (and survived nicely, obviously; we made it out of here before Snoqualmie Pass closed and more snow fell on Seattle than I have ever seen here) and spent a happy ten days there. Matt's parents and my Grandma Griffith even joined us, so after more than a week of attention from five grandparents, Suzannah is pretty much ruined. We're only just beginning to recover, and if you think I'm exaggerating because you think I'm prone to that (though I don't know why you would), let me just tell you that my two-year-old took exactly one-and-a-half naps in ten days, and I thought she'd never again go to bed without a tantrum in her life. My girl has never been fond of sleeping much, but this was ridiculous. She nearly stayed in Montana. (One thing that helped her finally go to sleep? Bringing her new toaster to bed. My father-in-law made it to go along with the wood play kitchen he built for her over the summer, and it's just so awesome -- he used parts from an old toaster for the inside, and the wood bread slices actually pop up and down. She loves it, and we make lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I have to pretend to eat. And she had to sleep with that toaster every night. Now, she allows it to stay in her "kitchen" and is back to sleeping with Cookie Monster, but it was awfully cute -- if a bit weird -- for awhile.)
(And this is what a half-nap looks like, by the way. It happens when a child hasn't slept in three days and passes out on the couch during Christmas Eve Dinner. Note the flatbread still in her hand. Also, I should mention that this is a testament to how exhausted she was, because my daughter has never been one of those kids who just wears herself out until she falls asleep playing somewhere. She sleeps in her bed. Period. Or the car.)
Of course, according to my mother, she was a perfect angel on our anniversary. Matt and I spent our first! night! alone! together! since Suzannah was born; we treated ourselves to a night at the 320 Ranch, which is where we honeymooned six years ago. It was wonderful -- think little log cabin in the woods, a sleigh ride in the mountains, and one of the best dinners I've ever had (and I didn't have to worry about whether the menu included chicken tenders and mandarin oranges or whether there would be crayons at the table). We were really, really ready for this -- as in, we didn't call home once to check in.
Now we're back home in the Pacific Northwest, land of wet and green Januaries. I think Suzannah dearly misses the snow, because for a week after we returned she insisted on taking her mittens to bed with her and sleeping with them clutched against her chest. She woke up me up at three o'clock in the morning once, crying because they'd fallen on the floor and she couldn't find them in the dark. Toasters and mittens -- that's my girl.
Finally, I've been meaning to do this for a long time. About a month ago, my friend Nikki gave me this blog award:
It felt like a hug on a night when I really needed one, and I'd like to pass it along to just a few of the people I particularly enjoy reading, especially since I don't tell them that often enough. (I'd give it right back to Nikki, too, because I've loved her writing as long as I've known her.)
I've been reading Kelli (I Like Tulips) for years. I don't remember who first pointed me in the direction of her online journal so long ago, but I do remember that person writing that her journal was one of the most interesting blogs she read.
I work with Kyanne (Cookbook's Book) and basically, we share a brain, but that's not why I'm including her here. If you have a bad day, read her blog and count your blessings (or at least laugh, which I usually do) -- at least your dog probably hasn't stolen, eaten, and pooped into the backyard the dinner you were cooking, your new pair of shoes, the kitchen sink, and an entire preschool class.
I've known Anne (Married to a Poet) for years. She is a thoughtful reader, beautiful writer, wonderful friend, and new mother (so she may not have much time for blogging these days, but she deserves this anyway). She's one of my favorite people in the world.
I've known my other Anne (In the Midst of Motherhood) since we were in the sixth grade at East Middle School in Great Falls, Montana. She lives in Florida with her family now, and we met up for the first time in years last winter when she traveled to Portland for a wedding. As it is with the best of old friends, it was as though no time had passed. She writes about all things related to motherhood -- breastfeeding, birthing, attachment parenting, cooking, and wrangling two rambunctious toddlers.
Amy (When It's Time I Will Be Ready) is more awesome than I can tell you. We love a lot of the same authors, and this girl can write. I met her in West Seattle when she visited the west coast a few years ago, and she was just as fabulous in person as she is online.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
2008 Reading List
Well, Happy 2009, all. I thought I'd kick off the New Year with my annual Annotated Reading List.
Drinking: A Love Story -- Caroline Knapp
This is a book for anyone who has struggled with addiction, self-destruction, or maybe simply being human -- as well as for anyone who appreciates good, clear writing.
Woman at Point Zero -- Nawal El Sadaawi
I taught this book in junior IB for the first time last year, and it's one I refuse to give up for now, despite the complaints of a few "concerned" parents who only want their children to read "positive stories." The main character is a prostitute in a society where women are devalued, and the story is about her struggle for freedom and finding her voice. My students understood the importance of the book and its universality, and they were quite passionate about their right to read and discuss it. The best books are the ones that wake us up and shake us out of our comfort zones, and those are exactly the ones we need to teach.
Chronicle of a Death Foretold -- Gabriel Garcia Marquez
I wouldn't recommend this book as an introduction to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, even though it's very short (I read it easily in one sitting). I taught it in my junior IB class last year, and -- it's a tough book to teach, I realized. But I found it an immensely satisfying read, and I'd recommend it to anyone who liked One Hundred Years of Solitude or Love in the Time of Cholera (both of which I love, although now that I think of it, I know many people who really like one and hate the other -- they're pretty different novels).
Bright Evening Star: Mystery of the Incarnation -- Madeleine L'Engle
My contemplative Lenten reading for 2008. I loved it the way I love everything else she's written, for many of the same reasons; she always finds me exactly when I need her.
I Am The Messenger -- Markus Zusak
I read this in Montana over my spring break last year. I absolutely loved The Book Thief, so I was looking forward to this one. I think I would have enjoyed it more if I'd read it before I read The Book Thief, but the story was gripping and unique and left me wanting to do good things in the world, as cheesy as that sounds.
Love Medicine -- Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich is one of my favorite writers, so I expected to love this; I don't know why I waited so long to read it. It didn't disappoint. I love the connectedness of her stories and the humanity of her characters. Her storytelling is raw and and true and she's the kind of writer who makes me want to write.
The Year of Magical Thinking -- Joan Didion
Brilliant and heartbreaking. Didion perfectly captures both the isolation and the universality of grief and loss. I know I'll read it again.
A Moveable Feast -- Ernest Hemingway
This is another book I've owned for years and never read. I'm not always a huge fan of Hemingway, but I also don't fall into the "You must love Faulkner or Hemingway but certainly not both" camp. Hemingway writes to the core, and I loved a lot of this collection of essays -- especially his descriptions of Paris, reflections of his friendship with F. Scott Fitzgerald, and ruminations on his craft. This book also contains my very favorite line in everything I've read of Hemingway: "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know."
The Secret History -- Donna Tartt
This reminded me a lot of Special Topics in Calamity Physics, although it was darker. I started this on a rainy afternoon at a coffee shop in Seattle, nursing a cold and sipping a London Fog and finished it just a few days later. I found myself completely wrapped up in the story, which is deliciously twisted. The writing is incredibly detailed, yet the story is fast-paced. I thought it was both a lot of fun and deeply unsettling -- a good combination.
The Penelopiad -- Margaret Atwood
A retelling of The Odyssey from Penelope's point of view, in true Atwood fashion. Spare, haunting, sharp, and funny.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian -- Sherman Alexie
Completely fabulous. I would love to teach this someday, although I'm sure the righteous parents would be beating down my door (as they tend to do whenever their students are exposed to literature that mirrors reality -- in other words, literature to which they actually connect). This might be his best work so far (although I remain fiercely devoted to his poetry, which, in my opinion, doesn't get nearly enough attention).
Run -- Ann Patchett
I liked Bel Canto and I loved Truth and Beauty, Patchett's memoir of her friendship with writer Lucy Grealy -- that's maybe one of my favorite books. This fell somewhere in the middle. She explores "issues" of family ties that transcend blood, and while the story itself is compelling -- the entire structure of a family shifts dramatically one night after a car accident brings them together with another -- what really captivated me was her writing, which is absolutely clear and completely mesmerizing.
New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn -- Stephenie Meyer
These are all very, very bad...but still kind of fun. (Not enough fun for me to read them again, however.) I'll spare you my thoughts and point you in the direction of Cleolinda's plot summaries instead -- I do read those over and over again, because they're hilarious.
(Sidenote: I actually don't regret reading the books, because it's an interesting --and sometimes kind of terrifying -- window into insane popular culture, and my students are crazy about these books, but I just honestly don't know how in the world they managed to be published in the first place.)
Thirteen Reasons Why -- Jay Asher
This book grabbed me right away: Clay Jensen finds a mysterious package on his doorstep one afternoon; inside are cassette tapes recorded by a classmate who committed suicide two weeks earlier. She explains that there are thirteen reasons she ultimately decided to end her life, and Clay is one of them. I read almost the entire book in one sitting at Starbucks on the last day of school in June (which was really only a last morning of school, hence my window of free time). I wish more YA fiction like this had been available when I was an actual teenager, but I think I enjoy it just as much now.
Grace, Eventually -- Anne Lamott
Another collection of musings on faith from the author of Traveling Mercies and Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. After awhile, her writing seems more or less the same (though maybe that's true of most writers if they cover the same subject), but I enjoyed this collection more than her others.
True Notebooks: A Writer's Year at Juvenile Hall -- Mark Salzman
This book is an account of Salman's year of teaching writing to kids who have become hardened criminals, convicted of the most brutal crimes. This is no Freedom Writer's Diary; the stories aren't sentimentalized, and they don't always have happy endings, but the subjects are real and they are human. It's hard to feel hopeful after finishing this book, but it's also hard not to feel more compassionate.
The Night Watch -- Sarah Waters
I had a hard time starting this one last year, and its reviews were lukewarm -- it's a definite departure from Fingersmith (which I raced through, breathlessly, nearly five years ago) and her other two novels, apparently. But I tried again this summer and deeply, deeply loved it, possibly even more than Fingersmith. I found both the characters and the structure of the novel completely intriguing, and I thought this book showed more quiet depth than her earlier writing.
The Abstinence Teacher -- Tom Perotta
I wanted to like this. Matt and I watched and appreciated Little Children, which is based on another of Perotta's novels, and I'd heard so much glowing praise that I decided to swing by the library for this one. I'm glad it was a library book and not one I bought, because I just didn't enjoy the writing -- it felt flat and cartoonish.
Laughing Without an Accent -- Firoozeh Dumas
Another memoir from the author of Funny in Farsi. I read it quickly and laughed a lot, and I think I enjoyed it more than her first book.
Flight -- Sherman Alexie
The premise of this novel rests on a Native American teenager about to commit a horrible act of violence when he is suddenly shot back in time, where he "travels" through several violent moments in history, becoming a different person each time. It's a punch in the gut, like all of Alexie's writing, and I read it quickly and enjoyed it, but it's not nearly of the same caliber as his other fiction (except maybe Indian Killer, which wasn't my favorite either).
Midaq Alley -- Naguib Mahfouz
I'm going to teach this soon as a complement to Woman at Point Zero. The setting is similar, and the story also deals with impoverished classes in Cairo, but the storytelling is entirely different. It reads almost like a soap opera in which no character is wholly admirable or contemptible; ultimately, it offers a "slice of life" -- of humanity -- that transcends time and geography.
Paper Towns -- John Green
This wasn't unlike Looking for Alaska and it was just as good. Highly recommended.
This Boy's Life -- Tobias Wolff
I read this because we'd considered adding it to the sophomore pre-IB curriculum this fall. Ultimately, we ran out of time, but I enjoyed reading Wolff's memoir anyway. (I loved Old School a few years ago. That's still my favorite of his, but this is still a great story.)
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn -- Mark Twain (reread)
I read this again because I taught it in junior IB. And I loved it -- partly because my kids had such fabulous discussions. It's a touchy book to teach these days, but I am extremely privileged to have a group of thoughtful, respectful kids who can go into dangerous territory and talk about tough issues. It was particularly timely, because Time ran a feature on "The Dangerous Mind of Mark Twain" this summer. We discussed his views on racism, his influence on politics, and the ways in which his writing is still so piercingly relevent.
The Woman in White -- Wilkie Collins
I've owned this book for years, and I decided that 2008 would be the year I actually read it. It was fantastic. It was the perfect dreary fall novel, and I finished it right around Halloween. It's considered one of the first "mystery thrillers" and I'll tell you, once I got used to the prose (it's been awhile since I've exercised my brain on some good old Victorian lit) I could not put it down. It's hefty, but I promise it's worth it, and I actually read it pretty quickly. You have to love Victorian lit; you can always count on someone escaping from a madhouse, or a case of mistaken identities, or some very very very bad villains, or perhaps some blood coming out of a wall somewhere (so said one of my favorite professors in college). And of course it goes without saying that there is lots and lots of fog.
The Discomfort Zone -- Jonathan Franzen
I wanted to love this collection of essays because The Corrections is one of my favorite books. It was okay.
The Toughest Indian in the World -- Sherman Alexie
I bought this collection of short stories when I listened to him speak in October, just so I could have another book for him to sign. I thought I would enjoy them, but I didn't know I'd love them as much as I did -- this might be one of my favorites from him. Truly. (Sidenote: After he signed my book, I totally got my picture taken with him, and you should be very, very jealous. I'm grinning like an idiot, but I don't care.)
The Westing Game -- Ellen Raskin (reread)
Kyanne and I bought this at the same time one night while we were indulging in some childhood nostalgia. I love it just as much now as I did when I was ten years old. Maybe more.
Let it Snow -- Maureen Johnson, John Green, and Lauren Myracle
I do love John Green, so I had to read this, although it's been awhile since I've read this kind of cute little teen romance (please don't mention Twilight, because I'm not sure what that was about). It was cute and light and about what I expected. But I was definitely ready for John Updike when I was through.
Rabbit at Rest -- John Updike
I started the Rabbit novels in December of 2005 and have read them each Christmas since. They're not particularly cheerful holiday reading, but I love them fiercely anyway. Each one is better than the last, so Rabbit at Rest was a satisfying finish. Now I need to pick up the collection of stories that includes "Rabbit Remembered."
I've already set the bar for 2009 pretty high with Out Stealing Horses, by Per Petterson -- it may have joined the ranks of my favorite books. I know, I have a lot of those, but it cracked my heart wide open.
Drinking: A Love Story -- Caroline Knapp
This is a book for anyone who has struggled with addiction, self-destruction, or maybe simply being human -- as well as for anyone who appreciates good, clear writing.
Woman at Point Zero -- Nawal El Sadaawi
I taught this book in junior IB for the first time last year, and it's one I refuse to give up for now, despite the complaints of a few "concerned" parents who only want their children to read "positive stories." The main character is a prostitute in a society where women are devalued, and the story is about her struggle for freedom and finding her voice. My students understood the importance of the book and its universality, and they were quite passionate about their right to read and discuss it. The best books are the ones that wake us up and shake us out of our comfort zones, and those are exactly the ones we need to teach.
Chronicle of a Death Foretold -- Gabriel Garcia Marquez
I wouldn't recommend this book as an introduction to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, even though it's very short (I read it easily in one sitting). I taught it in my junior IB class last year, and -- it's a tough book to teach, I realized. But I found it an immensely satisfying read, and I'd recommend it to anyone who liked One Hundred Years of Solitude or Love in the Time of Cholera (both of which I love, although now that I think of it, I know many people who really like one and hate the other -- they're pretty different novels).
Bright Evening Star: Mystery of the Incarnation -- Madeleine L'Engle
My contemplative Lenten reading for 2008. I loved it the way I love everything else she's written, for many of the same reasons; she always finds me exactly when I need her.
I Am The Messenger -- Markus Zusak
I read this in Montana over my spring break last year. I absolutely loved The Book Thief, so I was looking forward to this one. I think I would have enjoyed it more if I'd read it before I read The Book Thief, but the story was gripping and unique and left me wanting to do good things in the world, as cheesy as that sounds.
Love Medicine -- Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich is one of my favorite writers, so I expected to love this; I don't know why I waited so long to read it. It didn't disappoint. I love the connectedness of her stories and the humanity of her characters. Her storytelling is raw and and true and she's the kind of writer who makes me want to write.
The Year of Magical Thinking -- Joan Didion
Brilliant and heartbreaking. Didion perfectly captures both the isolation and the universality of grief and loss. I know I'll read it again.
A Moveable Feast -- Ernest Hemingway
This is another book I've owned for years and never read. I'm not always a huge fan of Hemingway, but I also don't fall into the "You must love Faulkner or Hemingway but certainly not both" camp. Hemingway writes to the core, and I loved a lot of this collection of essays -- especially his descriptions of Paris, reflections of his friendship with F. Scott Fitzgerald, and ruminations on his craft. This book also contains my very favorite line in everything I've read of Hemingway: "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know."
The Secret History -- Donna Tartt
This reminded me a lot of Special Topics in Calamity Physics, although it was darker. I started this on a rainy afternoon at a coffee shop in Seattle, nursing a cold and sipping a London Fog and finished it just a few days later. I found myself completely wrapped up in the story, which is deliciously twisted. The writing is incredibly detailed, yet the story is fast-paced. I thought it was both a lot of fun and deeply unsettling -- a good combination.
The Penelopiad -- Margaret Atwood
A retelling of The Odyssey from Penelope's point of view, in true Atwood fashion. Spare, haunting, sharp, and funny.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian -- Sherman Alexie
Completely fabulous. I would love to teach this someday, although I'm sure the righteous parents would be beating down my door (as they tend to do whenever their students are exposed to literature that mirrors reality -- in other words, literature to which they actually connect). This might be his best work so far (although I remain fiercely devoted to his poetry, which, in my opinion, doesn't get nearly enough attention).
Run -- Ann Patchett
I liked Bel Canto and I loved Truth and Beauty, Patchett's memoir of her friendship with writer Lucy Grealy -- that's maybe one of my favorite books. This fell somewhere in the middle. She explores "issues" of family ties that transcend blood, and while the story itself is compelling -- the entire structure of a family shifts dramatically one night after a car accident brings them together with another -- what really captivated me was her writing, which is absolutely clear and completely mesmerizing.
New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn -- Stephenie Meyer
These are all very, very bad...but still kind of fun. (Not enough fun for me to read them again, however.) I'll spare you my thoughts and point you in the direction of Cleolinda's plot summaries instead -- I do read those over and over again, because they're hilarious.
(Sidenote: I actually don't regret reading the books, because it's an interesting --and sometimes kind of terrifying -- window into insane popular culture, and my students are crazy about these books, but I just honestly don't know how in the world they managed to be published in the first place.)
Thirteen Reasons Why -- Jay Asher
This book grabbed me right away: Clay Jensen finds a mysterious package on his doorstep one afternoon; inside are cassette tapes recorded by a classmate who committed suicide two weeks earlier. She explains that there are thirteen reasons she ultimately decided to end her life, and Clay is one of them. I read almost the entire book in one sitting at Starbucks on the last day of school in June (which was really only a last morning of school, hence my window of free time). I wish more YA fiction like this had been available when I was an actual teenager, but I think I enjoy it just as much now.
Grace, Eventually -- Anne Lamott
Another collection of musings on faith from the author of Traveling Mercies and Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. After awhile, her writing seems more or less the same (though maybe that's true of most writers if they cover the same subject), but I enjoyed this collection more than her others.
True Notebooks: A Writer's Year at Juvenile Hall -- Mark Salzman
This book is an account of Salman's year of teaching writing to kids who have become hardened criminals, convicted of the most brutal crimes. This is no Freedom Writer's Diary; the stories aren't sentimentalized, and they don't always have happy endings, but the subjects are real and they are human. It's hard to feel hopeful after finishing this book, but it's also hard not to feel more compassionate.
The Night Watch -- Sarah Waters
I had a hard time starting this one last year, and its reviews were lukewarm -- it's a definite departure from Fingersmith (which I raced through, breathlessly, nearly five years ago) and her other two novels, apparently. But I tried again this summer and deeply, deeply loved it, possibly even more than Fingersmith. I found both the characters and the structure of the novel completely intriguing, and I thought this book showed more quiet depth than her earlier writing.
The Abstinence Teacher -- Tom Perotta
I wanted to like this. Matt and I watched and appreciated Little Children, which is based on another of Perotta's novels, and I'd heard so much glowing praise that I decided to swing by the library for this one. I'm glad it was a library book and not one I bought, because I just didn't enjoy the writing -- it felt flat and cartoonish.
Laughing Without an Accent -- Firoozeh Dumas
Another memoir from the author of Funny in Farsi. I read it quickly and laughed a lot, and I think I enjoyed it more than her first book.
Flight -- Sherman Alexie
The premise of this novel rests on a Native American teenager about to commit a horrible act of violence when he is suddenly shot back in time, where he "travels" through several violent moments in history, becoming a different person each time. It's a punch in the gut, like all of Alexie's writing, and I read it quickly and enjoyed it, but it's not nearly of the same caliber as his other fiction (except maybe Indian Killer, which wasn't my favorite either).
Midaq Alley -- Naguib Mahfouz
I'm going to teach this soon as a complement to Woman at Point Zero. The setting is similar, and the story also deals with impoverished classes in Cairo, but the storytelling is entirely different. It reads almost like a soap opera in which no character is wholly admirable or contemptible; ultimately, it offers a "slice of life" -- of humanity -- that transcends time and geography.
Paper Towns -- John Green
This wasn't unlike Looking for Alaska and it was just as good. Highly recommended.
This Boy's Life -- Tobias Wolff
I read this because we'd considered adding it to the sophomore pre-IB curriculum this fall. Ultimately, we ran out of time, but I enjoyed reading Wolff's memoir anyway. (I loved Old School a few years ago. That's still my favorite of his, but this is still a great story.)
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn -- Mark Twain (reread)
I read this again because I taught it in junior IB. And I loved it -- partly because my kids had such fabulous discussions. It's a touchy book to teach these days, but I am extremely privileged to have a group of thoughtful, respectful kids who can go into dangerous territory and talk about tough issues. It was particularly timely, because Time ran a feature on "The Dangerous Mind of Mark Twain" this summer. We discussed his views on racism, his influence on politics, and the ways in which his writing is still so piercingly relevent.
The Woman in White -- Wilkie Collins
I've owned this book for years, and I decided that 2008 would be the year I actually read it. It was fantastic. It was the perfect dreary fall novel, and I finished it right around Halloween. It's considered one of the first "mystery thrillers" and I'll tell you, once I got used to the prose (it's been awhile since I've exercised my brain on some good old Victorian lit) I could not put it down. It's hefty, but I promise it's worth it, and I actually read it pretty quickly. You have to love Victorian lit; you can always count on someone escaping from a madhouse, or a case of mistaken identities, or some very very very bad villains, or perhaps some blood coming out of a wall somewhere (so said one of my favorite professors in college). And of course it goes without saying that there is lots and lots of fog.
The Discomfort Zone -- Jonathan Franzen
I wanted to love this collection of essays because The Corrections is one of my favorite books. It was okay.
The Toughest Indian in the World -- Sherman Alexie
I bought this collection of short stories when I listened to him speak in October, just so I could have another book for him to sign. I thought I would enjoy them, but I didn't know I'd love them as much as I did -- this might be one of my favorites from him. Truly. (Sidenote: After he signed my book, I totally got my picture taken with him, and you should be very, very jealous. I'm grinning like an idiot, but I don't care.)
The Westing Game -- Ellen Raskin (reread)
Kyanne and I bought this at the same time one night while we were indulging in some childhood nostalgia. I love it just as much now as I did when I was ten years old. Maybe more.
Let it Snow -- Maureen Johnson, John Green, and Lauren Myracle
I do love John Green, so I had to read this, although it's been awhile since I've read this kind of cute little teen romance (please don't mention Twilight, because I'm not sure what that was about). It was cute and light and about what I expected. But I was definitely ready for John Updike when I was through.
Rabbit at Rest -- John Updike
I started the Rabbit novels in December of 2005 and have read them each Christmas since. They're not particularly cheerful holiday reading, but I love them fiercely anyway. Each one is better than the last, so Rabbit at Rest was a satisfying finish. Now I need to pick up the collection of stories that includes "Rabbit Remembered."
I've already set the bar for 2009 pretty high with Out Stealing Horses, by Per Petterson -- it may have joined the ranks of my favorite books. I know, I have a lot of those, but it cracked my heart wide open.
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