March 2011 Pt. 2

Here’s the rest of the stuff I’ve been reading this month.  Did I finish A Red Herring?  Of course I did.

1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (40%).  This book makes more Spring Break reading, but I didn’t enjoy the narrator or his unique narrative style enough to finish the whole thing.
2. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor.  Onyesonwu is a young woman whose heritage causes her to travel across the desert in search of her evil father whose warmongering might destroy all her people.
3. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley.  Flavia de Luce is my new favorite detective.  The youngest of three sisters in a rambling old house, she’s eleven years old in 1950.  She, her extensive knowledge of chemistry, and her bike named Gladys get into everyone’s business to help the local constabulary solve a murder.
4. Carpe Jugulum by Terry Pratchett.  “Go for the Throat” is the motto of the Magpyrs, modern vampires with a plan to take over Lancre.  But Granny Weatherwax will stop them, unless she can’t.
5. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin.  The most enjoyable reading for class I’ve ever had.  I read the 40th Anniversary Edition, which includes the short story “Coming of Age in Karhide.”
6. The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag by Alan Bradley.  More Flavia, because the clues she misinterprets are almost as hysterical as the clever and devious ways she finds them out.
7. The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury.  I was quite disappointed by the short, choppy stories, largely unrelated save their taking place on Mars and by the fact that the Mars on which they took place was not always consistently described.  The characters’ concerns and social relationships felt, well, dated, and if it hadn’t been Bradbury, I would have stopped reading.
8. A Red Herring Without Mustard by Alan Bradley.  This is quite possibly the best Flavia yet, because of the delightful nature of the title and all the red herrings placed throughout the novel.  I can’t wait until next year when book four will be released.

That’s all, folks.  Unless you have another equally as charming mystery series to recommend, it’s back to reading academic articles and source materials for my final paper of the semester.

March 2011 Pt. 1

Hello.  Here’s the first part of my monthly “Stuff I’ve Been Reading” post.  I’m pleased to see that I’ve done a fairly decent job of writing about the books throughout the month, so for additional details for many of the following, see longer posts. (Links are underlined, but not blue: I’m not savvy enough to figure out how to change that.)

1. Inda by Sherwood Smith (40%).  I was disappointed by the slow pace and enormous cast of characters for this first novel in a four-book series.  It’s a model fantasy epic, but happened not to be what I was in the mood for.
2. The Night Calls by David Pirie.  Apparently I was in the mood for a Holmesesque mystery.  This tale of a fictional Conan Doyle and his mentor Dr. Joseph Bell hits the spot with historical detail and decent plotting.
3. Time and the Other by Johannes Fabian (50%).  I read this critical examination of the theory behind ethnographic literature on the recommendation of a professor to include in my thesis.  It was a dense read, but presented a fascinating view of questions and assumptions behind time, narrative, and form.
4. “The Mind’s Eye” and Other Stories by Kelly Ledbetter.  No, I don’t think it’s too self-absorbed to include my thesis–a collection of five short stories and an article–on my book list.  I did sit down and read it cover to cover, just like a book.
5. One of Our Thursdays Is Missing by Jasper Fforde.  And then I rewarded myself with the long-awaited Thursday Next book six, in which the real-life Thursday is missing and the bookworld Thursday has to search for her.
6. Reservation Blues by Sherman Alexie.  Borrowed from a friend, this book was a much better Alexie novel than Flight, his more recent young adult story.  Funny, poignant, well-written, and tragic.
7. We by Yevgeny Zamyatin.  For Spring Break, I went on a “science fiction I should have read by now” binge.  This classic dystopian novel was first on the list.
8. Boneshaker by Cherie Priest.  Steampunk zombies in historical Seattle equals one of the most fun novels of sheer adventure I’ve ever read.

Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the list … and to see whether I can manage to read Alan Bradley’s third Flavia de Luce novel, A Red Herring Without Mustard, (thanks, Mom!) before the clock rolls around to April.

I shouldn’t blog when I’m tired.

Why am I so tired?  Six o’clock is a fairly normal time to wake up, a bit early, but nothing terrible.  Especially since I spent a couple of hours lying on the couch watching Heroes, which should have rested me up through the equivalent of eight o’clock at least.

Who spells out “o’clock” anymore?

Apparently I do.

I’m annoyed that hardback books cost so much, even on Amazon.  I want to buy A Red Herring with Mustard or whatever Flavia de Luce #3 is called, but it costs too much.  I even checked whether the public library had it, which would have required me to get a card.  But all three copies are checked out, and there are two holds on the most newly returned ones.

Someone buy it for me!

I want Flavia Three rawr!

And you thought I was a serious person who conscientiously maintained a five-foot radius of personal dignity.  Hah.

So tired.  And it’s not even nine yet.  Can I go to bed before nine and still be an adult?

No, I didn’t think so.

I know!  I’ll start reading a new novel.  But what to choose?  Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson?  Ringworld by Larry Niven?  Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett?  The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury?  Or (for a wildcard) Possession by A. S. Byatt?

Making important decisions like this are far too hard.

Instead, good night.

Apartment Life

Last night I went to sleep to the neighbors’ argument, and this morning I woke up to the neighbors’ baby.

Why do they call them apartments, when all you really are is very, very close together?

The longer I live here, the more I dislike it.  There’s construction right across the street.  The room that contains my desk has extremes of temperature: cold in winter, hot in summer.  There’s a ragtag band of six to ten children who play around our building (read: scream and run around our building).  The parking situation is intolerable because a) we’re never assured of a space and b) we have to make sure our friends’ cars don’t get towed.  And, if we ever wanted to buy furniture, we’d have to put it in the kitchen, because our two bedrooms and living/dining area keep getting smaller.

AND the gym is only open from 9:45 AM, which means I can’t exercise in the morning, until 6:oo PM, which means I can’t exercise in the evening.  Pardon my French, but what the hell?  Who thought those hours were a good idea?

After having lived here for what will be two years in July, I’ve had plenty of time to discover what all the imperfections are.

My new mantra: I can’t wait to move, I can’t wait to move.

Now Accepting Congratulations

In case you missed it on Facebook, I passed my thesis defense this morning.  “The Mind’s Eye” and Other Stories is now approved as-is and must merely make its casual way into the graduate school office before the end of the month.  Which means that, for all intents and purposes, I’m done.

As in, Done.

As in, graduating for certain in May.

As in, I now have a Master of Arts degree in fiction writing.

I am now accepting congratulations, and, a bit more optimistically, any three-book contracts from publishers.  But I’ll write more about my publication plan later.  Right now, I’m going to…settle down on the couch with some homework?

Of course, if by homework you mean reading (for at least the eighth time) The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin–then yes.

Spring Break Reading #4

1. We by Yevgeny Zamyatin
2. Boneshaker by Cherie Priest
3. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
4. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
5. Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson

Well, Spring Break is over starting tomorrow, a truth that makes me rather sad.  Especially since I might not be able to get to Red Mars this month, since I must return to reading for school.  On the other hand, I did read three and a half books in eight days, so that’s a break well spent.

Who Fears Death is the meaning of the name of the main character, Onyesonwu.  She is a powerful sorcerer who is also an Ewu, a child of rape.  The story of her upbringing and her emergence into her own powers is a gripping tale of magic and emotion, as she grows up, makes friends, falls in love, and journeys across the desert to take revenge on her evil father.  Touching on politically and socially important themes such as female circumcision and genocide, this novel’s base in the atmosphere and mythology of Africa makes it some of the most original science fiction (or, fantasy?) I’ve ever read.

While the character of Onyesonwu has plenty of pathos, I did find the narrative a bit meandering.  The specific roles of the wide cast of minor characters was sometimes confusing, and I was impatient to get through the first half of the book, during which Onyesonwu grows from a child to age twenty, to the second, where she finally begins her epic journey of discovery and vengeance.  I was so invested in her struggles and battles with her father that I wanted the final confrontation to be much longer–the parts of the book I happened to be most interested in did not seem to get as much emphasis.

Another criticism I have is understanding the exact limits of sorcery: while Onyesonwu’s teacher warns her to embrace contradictions, I wished for a little more specificity in exactly what sorcery is, who could have it, and why Onyesonwu was able to keep discovering new powers even up until the very end of the book.  I have several other specific objections, but they all relate to said ending, and since I do recommend reading this novel, I’ll not spoil the experience with any of my confusion or skepticism.

If I were to compare this novel to Boneshaker by Cherie Priest (Spring Break Read #2), I would say that Who Fears Death is a more difficult read, including many scenes of anger and violence, but treats more Important themes, such as sexuality or racial identity.  Although I liked Boneshaker better (because who doesn’t enjoy a good quest through historical zombie-infested Seattle?), Who Fears Death is a book I would be more likely to read again.

Spring Break Reading #3

1. We by Yevgeny Zamyatin
2. Boneshaker by Cherie Priest
3. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
4. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
5. Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson

The Book Thief was loaned to me with two pieces of information: it’s about a foster girl who adjusts to her new family in WWII Germany, and it’s narrated by death.

Unfortunately, death as the narrator of Liesel’s story didn’t work for me.  Not only is it difficult to understand why death should care so much about Liesel’s story and the books that she’s stolen (sometimes from Nazi book-burning parties), but the scenes are also interrupted by these odd headline-style sentences.

***AN EXAMPLE***
This is exactly what the headlines look like.
Except with slightly relevant information
about the story.
Sometimes.

They appear on nearly every page.  The fragmentation of the narrative to tell me things that I could have just as easily inferred from the story kept pulling me out of what was happening, however interesting.

My frustration with this is the main reason that I stopped reading it.  I just wasn’t persuaded why death would tell this particular story in this particularly odd manner.  I cared about the person hiding in Liesel’s basement, but the narration style was too disruptive for me to want to finish out the next three hundred pages.