The Phenomenally Indecisive Book Club | March | The Book Thief

This book better be good, because I’ve set my expectations high. I decided upon The Book Thief by Markus Zusak for the same reasons it made the final cut earlier in the month. The book has five years of critical and popular acclaim, is easy to find in stores and libraries (thanks to the aforementioned acclaim), and is a young adult novel with potential to sway critics of the genre thanks to its mature storyline. I took a gamble with this pick since a book this popular means many may have already read it, but there were enough people that (1) haven’t read the book or (2) loved it so much they were willing to read it again (!!!) that I feel good about including it on the club’s reading list.

I forgot to mention this was the pick for March, but my library has 8 copies at one branch alone. I’m confident this book will be easier to find than Rules of Civility.If not, I’m sorry. Total oversight on my part in failing to announce March’s pick!

Okay, let’s get started! SO excited.

p.s. Tomorrow we discuss Rules of Civility!

On Many Things, Including Books

On Monday night I sat down to write about the young adult pick for the March session of The Phenomenally Indecisive Book Club. There were points I needed to address and suggestions I wanted to receive. Over the past week on Twitter, people expressed surprise–and maybe a little concern–when I reminded them we were alternating genres. I get it. I generally don’t read young adult unless the series comes highly recommended or has become a cultural phenomenon (Harry Potter, Twilight, haven’t yet read Hunger Games), so I understand if people hear young adult and tense up. If you aren’t familiar with the genre, it can seem like nothing more than a herd of lovestruck mythical creatures clawing their way out of a dystopian society over a three part series.

But I’ve read John Green, so I know there is literature about humans to be found grades 9 and up.

Not that there is anything wrong with the former. I’m pretty middle of the road about most things, including books. I’ll read anything, really.

I wanted to explain I was taking the advice a reader (Hi, Frances!) and limiting young adult selections to Printz Medal winners or honorees, barring a forgotten classic or runaway bestseller that grips society’s attention. The young adult genre is huge; narrowing the focus helps facilitate the selection of quality material. And this is what I planned to write, already set on my introductory sentence and how I would ask if I am the only person on the planet who hasn’t read The Book Thief, arguably one of the most popular books released in the last five years across all genres (pro), and whether 500+ pages was too long (con), but since it’s young adult how slow going could it be (pro) and if not that book, maybe something else by Zusak or Green or any of these talented authors.

That’s what I sat down to write, until I tried logging on and discovered a hacker at the helm of my blog gleefully routing visitors into a never-ending loop of video porn.

And from what I hear, it wasn’t even vampire porn.

Needless to say, I was far too busy staring at the ceiling the rest of the night to concentrate on writing about book picks. Not that I could have written about anything had I wanted. The hacker blocked me out of my own blog! He/she was completely in charge.

Instead, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling early into Tuesday morning thinking that today would be the day my mother decides to read my blog. Today, the day Pancakes and French Fries features a politician upending a college-aged assistant across a burl walnut executive desk, is the day she gets on the “bah-log? blogue? blug?” to see if I ever did write about Mikey’s solo performance of Silent Night during Christmas Eve Mass.

(Mikey’s performance was fabulous, by the way. The politician’s left much to be desired. My sources called it a feeble 3 out of 10.)

Thankfully, I know people like Anna, who held my hand at 1:20am (her time) and then again at 6:00am (my time). For four hours she sat and deleted virus code. Various politicians and their paramours disappeared line by unsavory line. I am forever in her debt because for a while there, it looked like I would lose four years worth of content. Sure, I wouldn’t mind shoving off into the ether 2007-2009, but the later years aren’t too bad.

And now, 24 hours after I sat down to write that I couldn’t decide because I wanted to read them all–and isn’t the name of our club so great for that reason–here I sit, writing that I couldn’t decide because I want to read them all and I’m because I’m thinking about my mom watching porn. It’s enough to make me want to flush my brain with ammonia.

Is it true I am the only one who hasn’t read The Book Thief? I hear it’s amazing. I’ve scoured the internet and can’t find a bad comment anywhere. I especially like it as a pick because some people call it a convert/crossover book, meaning people who don’t normally like young adult really think it’s something special. The page count doesn’t intimidate me–nor does the subject matter–but I realize I may be in the minority. If that book doesn’t work, please leave a suggestion. As always, I’ll take everything into consideration and will pick the one that stands a chance at pleasing the majority.

If only that politician had been as thoughtful. Ahem.

F is for Fujikawa

Our Best Friends by Gyo Fujikawa was my favorite book as a child. I remember being five years old and flipping the pages over and over again. Everything about it was just too perfect: the bunny, Smudge the cat, the little boy named Larry who always had a sparrow perched on his finger. My favorite page of my favorite book was of the house sitting on a large expanse of green lawn dotted with pink trees. I stared and stared and stared, committing it to memory almost, taken in by the happy house with the big red door. Obsessed with red doors, even then, in 1977.

It was raining when I took these pictures, and had been for hours. The sky was cloudy, like memories.

[p.s. I announced the winners of the book club giveaway on the original post. The publisher got wind of the giveaway and put in two more books, for a total of four. That made me happy! Maybe more book club giveaways are on the horizon?]

 

 

C, D, E

I was plugging right along with my Souvenir Foto Project: Alphabet Edition until yesterday. I decided upon a book theme, which is okay. I wouldn’t do it again. I’m having fun, of course, but I’m losing the spontaneity I adore. I like to take pictures and write a short story around them, similar to what I did with yesterday’s post and what I did the last time I did the A-Z format. This time, not only am I forcing myself to go in alphabetical order, my narrow subject matter means I often scramble to make something fit. I prefer my projects to be more organic, less structured.

Yesterday was a blur of a day. I was out of the house for most of it, running around town trying to strike items off my to-do list before Nicholas’s birthday party on Friday and our tax appointment on Thursday. Because I decided upon a book theme–in alphabetical order!–none of the pictures I took worked. What I wanted to take a picture of sat in Nicholas’s bookshelf, mocking me in the waning daylight, while I drove to from the health food store to practice.

Oh well, live and learn.

(C is for The Chronicles of Narnia)
(D is for Diccionario, Dictionnaire, and Dictionary)
(E is for Elmer, The Patchwork Elephant)

A is for Aesop, Anderson

My parents–my mom, really–bought several leather-bound book collections when my brothers and I were little. I think it was called the World’s 100 Classics or something, and every month we would get a new book. I loved the crackle noise the spines made and the way the gilt pages felt like glass. One summer I was actually old enough to read a few of the books. I read them in my mom’s leather wing chair because I thought it made me look all the more important.

My mom still has that wing chair. Same chair, same dark brown leather(ish) upholstery, in the same spot in her office twenty-eight years later.

Since that summer, I’ve wanted my own collection. I’m moving at a much slower pace. I have these four, a not nearly as sophisticated Chronicles of Narnia edition from Barnes and Noble, and Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, which was a birthday gift from my mom this year. I told her I would love a leather or cloth bound book for my birthday every year. She thought that was a great idea. For some reason, she’s really big on giving the same or similar gift every year. She finds traditions in the strangest places.