So, in book club the other week, we read this book (I’m not telling you what it was, because I’m going to give away the ending here and I don’t want to wreck it for you.) It was a lovely book about star-crossed lovers dealing with a major impediment to their being together. There was some magic involved. The ending was somewhat convoluted and a little melancholy, but the gist was that they more or less sorted it out and kind of/sort of died/became immortal and were thereby able to live together happily ever after.
Because they were immortal.
Until the end of time.
In honour of banned books week.
(I have no idea whether these books were banned anywhere, but I’d think any school librarian remotely aware of content would at least try.)
A lot gets written about the influence of various media on kids. You know, like do the violent video games make them more violent, do all the pink princess things make them act more entitled or vapid – that sort of thing.
Now me, I haven’t researched the issue at all. But occasionally I come across an article about it in one form or another. I tend to find these articles pretty convincing. They seem like common sense, right? Continue reading
Sometimes I choose the books I read solely based on how interesting they will make me sound when people ask what I’m reading.
Current example: Brainwashing: The Science of Thought Control.
I figure this will be a good book to read on the bus while occasionally putting it down and looking thoughtfully at people.
We have (finally) moved. It was not my most favourite of experiences, (in fact, it ranks extremely low on that list) but now it is over and we have all the things in their places and there are tulips on the coffee table in the area we have designated as our living room. It’s all very pretty, really.
My brain has not quite got used to the idea of this as home yet though. I keep catching myself thinking that I’m staying at a bed and breakfast. Although, as it was pointed out to me, it would be a pretty crappy bed and breakfast, as we had to both bring our own bed and make our own breakfast. And it has quirks, this place. Like a weird stair that goes up and then down between the kitchen and the living area. And a ridiculously low ceiling in the shower. (Compared to an apartment without walls, they aren’t big quirks.)
I have a confession: I have not read the Harry Potter books. Or at least, I’ve only read the first two or three or whatever the series had got to in 2000. I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but it is odd for me, because a) I read constantly, and fairly indiscriminately, and b) I went through a big fantasy stage as a kid, and still have quite a respect for youth fiction of this nature. Continue reading
One thing I always enjoy reading is interviews with people who talk about books that have been life-changing or influential for them. The books people list in these interviews are always either self-help or inspirational memoirs. Sometimes religious or political stuff.
This sort of interview makes me think. I read a lot. There have been many books that I have loved, for one reason or another. But have any of them changed the way I do things? The way I act? Maybe not. Some have probably broadened my views, or developed them, but that’s about it. I don’t recall ever reading a book, putting it down, and thinking, “I am going to change my life and do ____ from now on,” and then gone ahead and done it. Continue reading
Portland, Oregon is not one of those places folks talk about a lot. The city is rarely in the news – real or entertainment – which would imply to me that is lacks both famous people and significant crime. I don’t hold either of these things against it. Here is what trying to conjure up ideas of Portland made me think of before I actually went to Portland:
- Maybe it’s like Seattle
- I think it might rain a lot there
- Isn’t that where those mini grapes come from?
- Was Portland somewhere you stopped in the game “Oregon Trail”? Continue reading
Last night I went to my book club meeting.
Yeah, that’s right: I am in a book club. I know that sounds kind of lame and family sitcom-ish or something, but I adore my book club. (If I were the type to add hearts to my writing, I would have done it there. But I’m not. So I didn’t.) I was brought into it by someone who knew someone who knew someone who found it on craigslist back when I knew almost no one in Vancouver. Most of the gals in it are people who I only know from the club, so I only see them the once a month that we meet, which adds some anticipation and always makes for a fun time. Continue reading