Tales of Beedle the Bard

I read this little gem a few days ago - in probably less than an hour. But I didn't review it, at least not at any length, on Goodreads. That's mostly because I didn't feel like I needed to, really. I mean what is there to say about a book of magical fairy tales?

What I did want to say is this. J. K. Rowling, you are one clever clever person. The stories themselves were cute and all, but the really genius part came in the commentary after each story. Commentary by none other than Professor Albus Dumbledore himself. Those comments were witty and made me laugh out loud.

I've sung the praises of Ms. Rowling before, and I think she deserves it. What she created is more than just a story. She's created an entire people with a history that goes back for centuries. She's created a mythology. I would like to take a peak inside that brain of hers and see just what else she's come up with, and I hope for more little gems like this.

I do not want the story to go on, and I don't want novels that cover the lives of Harry's progenitors. I think that would ruin the series for me. Sort of like the Anne of Green Gables series...I loved Anne's story but once she stopped being the central character, well, it wasn't the same. And as much as I wanted to read more about her, the stories that came after were just not as good.

But I wouldn't complain if Rowling wrote more "historical reference" works that tell the tales of ages past. Call me a nerd if you will. I don't care. I like that she's made an entire mythology all her own. I especially love that she's shared it with the rest of the world.

Ah Crap...or I Went to Law School

This is long and personal. Proceed with caution.

You know what I didn't like when I was studying for the LSAT and applying to law school? I really really hated it when people would tell me not to go. Here's why. It's rude, dude! People have to make their own decisions, and I did not like being told by people that it was a bad idea. I mean, why is getting an education ever a bad idea? It is not.

I suppose now that I understand the sentiment, but I still don't think it's the right thing to do, telling someone not to go, that is. I am right about this, you know. If you think it's the right decision, you should do it. After all, I learned more in that three years than I think I learned in all the rest of my education. That is no exaggeration. The kind of concentrated study involved in law school is that intense. I'm telling you, it is a refiners fire and if you finish, you come out of it a better person for it.

What I guess is the really big surprise is what came after. You could say that what came after is a story about what not to expect. You could also say that this is the story of me being honest, really and truly honest, about being (or not being, in my case) a lawyer.

The first year was, strangely enough, my favorite. Probably you've heard the horror stories, and so you probably think that I am nuts. You guys, I do not exaggerate when I say it was a beast. The beastliest. It was really fascinating, though, and I wonder, now that it is over, if the first year was the best because of the novelty and the fact that I wasn't exhausted just yet. In fact, I think that it was probably all related to the fact that I had lots of energy. Lots of it. Law school had not yet taken my spirit from me.

And then the second year started, and I was a little tired, and the worst of my thyroid symptoms started up, so that didn't help anything. But the honest thing? The honest thing is this. Probably by the middle of this year, I knew I did not want to practice law. Still, I was determined to finish. I just couldn't start this and not finish, and I worried mostly that I would have regretted quitting for the rest of my life. I thought quitting would have been worse than completing my degree because I would have always always always wondered "if"...if I had only finished. I knew then, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I had to complete it because I couldn't live with the feelings of failure.

I question the wisdom of that choice now, but at the time, I really did think it was the best thing to keep on keeping on. At least it taught me one thing. Follow your heart. You can't go wrong when you do, and you cannot worry about what other people think of your life. There might be people who thought I was a failure, but that should never have mattered to me. The truth is, I cared too much, far too much, what others might say if I said this isn't for me. Would they think I was a quitter? That I couldn't hack it? That I did not finish what I started?

And now that I'm out and I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life, I've discovered that I cannot CANNOT CANNOT worry about what other people think I should do with my life.

By the third year, my heart wasn't anywhere near where it should have been, although I worked hard enough to pass and even to get decent grades. But when I sat and listened to Governor Christie speak at commencement, I knew who he was talking to, and I knew my path wouldn't be the path that others had taken. What I didn't know then? I didn't know it would be like this - that the path would be one of absolute confusion and at times total paralysis.

I most certainly did not think I was going to be that graduate...the one who did not ever want to practice law, but I am. So. Well.

I think that's why I've had such a hard time this past year and a half. I graduated, threw myself into studying for the Texas Bar, and didn't look back. At least, I didn't look back until the bar exam was over. In a way, the past few weeks have been like waking up. I denied the truth for a long time because I felt like a failure. Who goes to law school and doesn't practice law? I guess I do. All that time, I was really just worried about what other people thought of me.

It never really mattered at all what they thought.

And I guess that is alright. I guess it is more than just alright. I think it is perfectly acceptable to follow one dream and discover that it had many good and happy things about it but then to figure out that it's just not for you, you know?

How else is one to learn that first and foremost, you have to follow your heart, and if your heart says, "No, not this way," then it is perfectly fine and good and right to agree with your heart.

Was law school a mistake? No. I can say that unequivocally. I learned a lot - from books and from people I met. I made a lot of friends. I learned just how much I could endure. I learned that you have to live life on your own terms. So how could that be a mistake. I think the bigger mistake would be to practice law now.

Could there have been an easier way to learn this lesson? Maybe, but this is the way I learned mine, and there is no going back now. There is only one thing to do. Figure out what it is that I want to do with my life and do it. On my terms. Without any concern for what others think of my choices.

Judgmental...Who Me?

It isn't a trait that I feel super duper proud of because let's face it, it isn't a compliment to myself. I am judgmental though, and a lot of those things that I'm judgy about? Well, they are rather superficial. Like what others might like...preferences about clothing or music or hair styles.

But I feel like I'm sort of getting my comeuppance. And that is usually what happens to a soul when they are not being very nice.

It all started this past fall. I've gained some weight (what's new). Only this time, it has been really pretty hard to lose...again. I'm working at it, on and off. But it isn't going well at all, and thus the on and off thing. I think I'd work harder if I thought I'd be successful. But it just isn't working out, and it is super duper discouraging.

And then I hear how that sounds, and I think of other people who've said, "I can't lose weight." I was so judgmental about that. It isn't that I judge people for their weight, really. I think it's more about what I deemed to be excuses people made. And that was judgmental. What did I know? I didn't know much. This really stinks, and I now feel sorry for thinking that about others.

Isn't that usually the way? You think you get something, and then experience teaches you that you don't know much.

Opinions

I picked up a book at the library yesterday called Paper Towns by John Green. I guess it was on my Goodreads "to read" list. I don't remember when I put it there, but then there are over two hundred books on that list, so I probably don't remember most of the books on that list.

Anyway, I started looking up Paper Towns and John Green and other books that he has authored because I wanted to know what my friends thought. He gets some mixed reviews from the people I know or at least the people whose reviews I follow.

I'm still going to read it because it looks like it might be good. Notice how I am now emphasizing "might" when yesterday, at the library, without any information about the book besides the actual cover information, I thought, "This looks really good."

Of course, now that has me thinking about why I do that. Why do I feel the need to find out what other people thought about it? Why don't I just read it myself and forget about what other people my think?

I don't think it's because I can't form my own opinions about a book, but maybe I just don't want to waste my time? At least, that is what I tell myself. I don't want to waste my time. That's probably legitimate, at least to some degree. But I think it's an easy way to dismiss things that I might like, too. It's also a really bad way of forming an opinion of something before I ever get the chance to see what I think myself.

You see, even readers with whom I share the most in common as far as preferences go, well...sometimes we disagree on a book or two. I really really liked the book North of Beautiful but my friend Jami? Nope. She didn't like it at all, really. And usually we love the same books.

Conclusion...I think I need to just read the books I want to read without any preconceived notions about them.

Bored...

So it's been a long time since I've filled answered one of these little friend email questionnaires, and I am bored with trying to come up with topics, so here goes.

1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
Deborah Michelle Fish

2. NICKNAMES?
Deb, Shell, Fish, Poisson...I could go on, but those are the most common.

3. SINGLE OR TAKEN?
Ugh. I think we all know the answer to this...single.

4. BIRTHDAY?
December 1

5. AGE?
MYOB...:) Actually, I don't need to give out too much of my personal information on a website that anyone can access.

6. HAIR?
Blonde...dark blonde but I do color it. Well, my friend Adie the hair dresser colors it.

7. WHERE DO YOU LIVE?
Utah...again the personal details :)

8. WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?
Watching my fave show, Castle

9. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU DID?
I went to a movie with my sis-in-law, B. We saw Sherlock Holmes.

10. WHAT IS RIGHT NEXT TO YOU?
The remote control...

11. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU ATE OUT WITH?
Dawn and a group of her friends

12. WHERE WOULD YOU WANT TO GO ON YOUR HONEYMOON?
Europe. It's a toss up between Italy and Germany.

13. WHO WOULD YOU WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE WITH?
Hmmm. Well, no one I know right now, but hopefully, a really super nice, good guy who makes me laugh and laugh. Like a lot.

14. HOW'S THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
Cold, and I sure do wish it would snow and snow and snow. A lot.

15. LAST PERSON YOU SPOKE TO ON THE PHONE?
B...making plans to go to the movie.

16. LAST PERSON TO TEXT YOU?
B...telling me she was here so we could go to the movie. :)

17. LAST PERSON YOU TEXTED?
I think my niece Meg.

18. WHAT DO YOU THINK A TOBLERONE IS?
Chocolate bar...from Europe. But not my favorite European chocolate bar.

19. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?
My Halloween pjs. It's almost midnight.

20. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No...but I do wear glasses.

21. DO YOU OWN A VEHICLE?
No...sadly, no.

22. WHAT ARE YOUR FUTURE PLANS?
Define future...

23. FAVORITE FOOD?
Cherries. Oh, and a good burger is always a favorite.

24. FAVORITE FILM?
Probably The Lord of the Rings series.

25. LAST FILM YOU SAW IN THE THEATER?
Sherlock Holmes

26. FAVORITE WOMENS' PERFUME?
Either Daisy or Flower Bomb

27. DO YOU LIKE TO DANCE?
I do. I don't go dancing often, but I love it.

28. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Of course...

29. DO YOU LIKE SCARY OR HAPPY MOVIES?
I just like movies, although I don't go to scary movies, so probably happy movies between the two.

30. CHRISTMAS OR EASTER?
Christmas

31. KISSES OR HUGS?
Both, please. But kisses if I must choose.

32. IF YOU COULD CHANGE ONE THING, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I would be married.

33. ROLLER COASTER, SCARY OR FUN?
Fun, obviously.

34. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON, DEAD OR ALIVE, WHO WOULD IT BE?
Joseph Smith

35. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB IN THE WORLD WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Writer...of novels.

So there you have it. A lazy day post.

Ship Breaker

I'm really happy to have found a slew of great YA literature of late. It restores my faith that publishers really do care about putting out quality work. Ship Breaker is among the quality.

Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I have one word. Atmosphere. I can't remember the last time I read a book where the atmosphere took over. It even took over plot and characterization. Usually character comes first for me, and the characters were good here, but I honestly loved the setting more than anything else about the story. Bacigalupi does more than create Nailer's dystopian Gulf Coast in a way that I could imagine it. It was so vivid that I felt more like I was in his world.

And what a world it is. It's something out of the slums of a third world country: the filth and the disease and the hordes of disenfranchised people swarming over wrecked ships, scavenging for whatever is left behind...spare copper, steel, oil - all the while just hoping to scrape by without getting killed by a host of both environmental and human threats. It's different and surprisingly good.

I was also fascinated by the drowned cities. Imagine coastal cities like New Orleans or San Francisco, tall sky scrapers and streets and bridges all covered in water. There is something haunting about imaging these cities, once heavily populated a hundred years before, now disintegrating under the ocean. I see it the way I might imagine a ship like the Lucitania or or the Titanic, once inhabited by people, now sunk under the depths. I couldn't help but think of all the things left behind now rotting in salt water. (And it does make me pretty excited about the next book in the series, The Drowned Cities.)

There is something beautiful about this mysterious and decaying landscape.

There were a few other things that I found captivating. Nailer's world is run by large companies that control vast portions of wealth. It doesn't seem like there are any real government entities, and people are either very poor or very rich. It's a dog-eat-dog sort of place where survival means looking out for yourself first. And it isn't hard, at least in my mind, to see the world turning out this way. Especially when governments kowtow to big corporations and banks and forget the constituents they are supposed to serve.

I also really liked Tool. Tool is a sort of half-breed human/dog. In the story, scientists have figured out a way to genetically engineer a new species, and these particular beings are supposed to be both excellent fighters and extremely loyal to a patron. But Tool has no patron and he survives on his own. I think I liked Tool more than any other character. He's supposed to be brutal and animalistic, but I think he was more human than most of the characters in the story. That only further emphasizes how far the human beings in this world have allowed themselves to fall into avarice and selfishness. It sounds like Tool features heavily in the next book, too, so I'm excited to see where Bacigalupi takes his story.

All in all, as far as dystopian lit goes, I think this pretty much nails it. I have only one complaint - as Jami said - more romance. I'm a girl like that. Oh, and I also agree, as Jami said, find a new phrase for "blossomed with pain." I didn't notice it at first, but by the end of the story, I was counting the number of times it was used.


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Politics...or 99 Problems

It's going to be a long long year, my friends. A long long year.

I'm not sure I can take too much of the whole political campaigning extravaganza that is about to explode. It's already a big ole mess, and what happens, I ask you, just what happens when the primaries are over and the real fighting begins? Because with all the mud that the republicans are slinging around out there about each other...you know, the infighting amongst supposed allies...I can only imagine that sort of &^*# storm we are in for in a few more months.

These are the things that bother me most about election season:

1. Everyone has such short lived memories. Right now, Reagan is a demi-god and did everything right, and everyone seems to have forgotten that when he was president, he had his nay-sayers and there were problems. I remember that...even though he was president when I was only in grade school. Yes, even a child can recognize that, so why can't grown-ups? I'm not knocking Mr. Reagan. I'm just saying, we are acting like it was a golden era when Mr. Reagan ruled the free world.

Hello...go out and watch Midnight in Paris. Woody Allen, you are a genius.

2. Everyone is blaming our current president for decades of small fires, little (or sometimes big) problems, if you will, that have only culminated in the current conflagration that is our economy and our foreign relationships. Let us keep a few things in mind, shall we? When things are going well, we tend to act as though the president, whomever that may be, has no power and really is only a figure head for the country. And then when things go south, we want to blame him for every last problem that we have ever faced. In our entire history. We forget that, in truth, his powers are limited, and, um, well, there is this whole thing we call CONGRESS...or the legislative branch...that he has to work with. And what in the world do they do, anyway? Work part time and get nothing done, and bicker bicker bicker while the president works around the clock. So can we at least be honest with ourselves? Please??? Stop blaming the president for every little problem out there.

And maybe try to understand the separation of powers and what the president does and does not have control over. Start with the Constitution...hello!

3. I'm tired of candidates trying to distance themselves from what they perceive as a weakness. Own your history people.

Newt - you cheated on your wives. And on top of that, you went guns blazing after President Clinton, probably while you were doing your cheating. How dare you try to take the "moral" high road? You have absolutely zero ground to stand on here. I'm dead serious, too. You need to own up to the fact that you were party to stringing up Mr. Clinton when you were doing the same thing. It's worse to hear you act as if it isn't the public's business. Maybe it isn't...maybe it is. Either way, you can't act like this is so unfair when you did the SAME thing to someone else. Please give me a break!

Mitt - you are rich. Own it. You don't have to apologize for it. You don't have to make excuses or act as if it is something to be embarrassed about. You work hard. You are just blessed/lucky to have been born into a wealthy family. You haven't broken the law by being rich. AND...it isn't as if you mooched off of a trust fund your entire life, loafed around and acted like a spoiled prince. I am begging you to stop acting like you have something to hide. It makes everyone think you have something to hide.

4. Let's be honest about ourselves. It isn't the government's job to stick its nose into every aspect of our lives and fix every problem we've had. I've been jobless for a year and a half now. I'm not blaming it all on politicians. And I'm not not blaming it on politicians. It is a crap economy and that does have something to do with Washington. But it also has a lot to do with me. It has a lot to do with decisions Americans made - to live on credit for years and years without ever thinking that they'd have to pay up for it. And I'm not just talking about the government here. People were and are living beyond their means, just as the government is.

But my joblessness is my problem, and no amount of blaming outside forces is going to fix it. I have to find work and that is that.

In other words - your life is yours and no president is some magical panacea. If Mitt or Newt become president, we won't suddenly wake up living in luxury. Things won't change over night. You'll still have your 99 problems, son.

Surfing

Sometimes I find myself on the internet with no purpose. Okay, that isn't totally true. Lots of times I find myself on the internet with no real purpose. Maybe I am bored and maybe I am lonely and maybe I just don't want to think about anything. It is pretty easy to find yourself mindlessly searching.

But sometimes I do it thinking I will find something. Someone I've been waiting for will find me or I'll get the email I've been waiting for from some organization that wants to hire me or maybe I'll figure out exactly how it is that I am going to write a story.

It's like I think this is some magical place. It isn't. It isn't a genie in a bottle, a panacea or even just a companion. It's a resource. I think I need to start treating it as such. The other day, I deleted almost all the game apps from my iphone because it's just TOOOOOO much. I can't delete the internet from my computer. But that doesn't mean that I don't have the ability to change my habits, either. Although I sometimes make little efforts to cut back, I don't really make efforts to change.

First step is being honest about it. I need a plan...I'll get back to you on that plan.

I Grew Up...

...In the coolest place. You guys, I was always sort of down on the whole small town gig. Seriously. Because when I was young, I felt like it was too much of a little pond/big fish sort of place. You must understand that when someone is "cool" or "popular" or "rad" in a small town like this, well, then they are not just a big-ish type of fish. No, when you are awesome in a small town, you are larger than life. You are the Blue Marlin of fishes. You might as well have celeb status.

So that sort of makes everyone else just feel like guppies.

And then when you go to a big place with, oh, lots and lots of people, then suddenly you realize that we are all just probably guppies and then that tres cool dude in high school isn't as tres cool anymore. People are just people and folks are just folks and there is ever so much anonymity. Which is sort of how I like my life. Anonymous.

But I can't hate on my little home town too much anymore because there are some cool people that I know that hail from this place, and so I did sort of get lucky growing up here. I suppose I mention this because I just spent the day with two good friends. First I went to get my hair done, and my friend Adrienne did my hair and she is freaking hilarious. (And yes...freaking...more "shiz" that Mormons say). We laughed and laughed. Oh my goodness, we laughed. I feel really lucky to be her friend after all these years.

Then I headed up to the Salt Lake for some good times with Melanie. Melanie and I went to church together. She graduated one year after me, and boy oh boy is that girl cool. We talked for hours. I think we were hanging out for more than four. And guess what? We haven't seen each other for probably close to ten years. So that tells you something right there when you can hang out with someone for that long even after all those years have gone by.

So I guess I'm just really over who's a big fish and who's not. I really just like that even if I was a guppy, I had some pretty great guppy friends to go along with me!

It's My Party and I'll Read What I Want To!!!

Yesterday I had an epiphany. So I had just finished another Stephenie Plum novel...One for the Money (review to come tomorrow)...and I was on goodreads defending my choice to read/enjoy such crap. Here is the thing. I am a grown-up and I've read a lot of books. I mean, a lot. Some of those books were classic/canonical literature; some were looooooong legal treatises; some were silly children's stories. But why is it when I read fluff, I feel I have to justify it?

It might stem back to the way my mother made me feel guilty about reading The Babysitter's Club series when I was thirteen. You guys, she did not want me reading that. Instead I was to be reading Jane Eyre and War and Peace. You may think I am kidding about the War and Peace part, but I assure you most vehemently, that I am not kidding. She probably read it when she was five.

So here I am, feeling guilty now that I like Janet Evanovich's novels about this detective because they are total garbage. I mean, she writes well, don't get me wrong, but it is complete fluff, and I start writing my review in apologetic tones because I'm not supposed to read this kind of stuff, let alone enjoy it...I mean really laugh and think it's funny, so I find myself writing my justification for sort of falling in love with this Jersey girl and all the while I am think to myself, who cares? I can read what I darn well want to read.

And so there, world (cough...Mom...cough). I can read what I want to. And here is a list of books that are total fluff that I proudly enjoyed.

1. One for the Money
2. Three to Get Deadly
3. Anything by Mary Higgins Clark
4. Angel's and Demons
5. The Da Vinci Code
6. Okay, okay, all books by Dan Brown
7. And as long as I am at it, pretty much everything I've read by John Grisham.
8. The Pillars of the Earth - because let's be honest and call it the soap opera that it is
9. Jodi Picoult novels...just a little bit because they are a tad on the drama-rama side.
10. The Devil's Company (David Liss...I'm in love with his main character, Benjamin Weaver, a Jewish P.I. in 19th century London. He's sort of hot for a book character.)
11. C.J. Sansom's Matthew Shardlake series (fluff disguised as historical mystery)
12. The entire Twilight Saga (when something touts itself as a saga, you know you are in for some drama)

Alright, now we've cleared the air and I've let my freak flag fly. I feel better. And I will continue to read my heart out, including my fluff and nonsense novels, and I will not apologize for it anymore!

Okay for Now

This was refreshing. Deep, hopeful, moving...full of voice and great characterization. Love it.

Okay for Now by Gary D. Schmidt

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Do you know what? I think I loved this as much as I loved The Wednesday Wars, if not more. And I didn't think that was possible, since I was in love, pretty much, with Holling Hoodhood (and what a fabulous name, by the way).

Here, like in The Wednesday Wars, Gary Schmidt ties his themes to a central motif. In this case, John James Audubon’s Birds of America links the themes of love, friendship, war, grief and abuse. It was seriously brilliant because the insights and connections that came through the art were perfectly suited to the story and to Doug Sweiteck, the main character. (A character, by the way, who was in The Wednesday Wars.)

So Doug is devastated when his father, whose quick temper and cruel nature cause grief for the entire family, moves the family to upstate New York. His new home in Marysville is, according to our young narrator, "stupid". In fact, his predominate attitude for the entire first few chapters demonstrates Doug's anger over having moved to Marysville. Doug does not get started on the right foot in his new school, and his problems are further exacerbated by his cruel older brother, a mother helpless against an abusive husband, and the worries over another brother fighting in Vietnam.

There are many things I love about this novel. I love Doug's tender heart, even when he is calling everything and everyone stupid, because it's clear that really, he's just hurting and frustrated and he doesn't know how to cope with his emotions. I love the way that everyone in town, including an old gentleman librarian, his teachers, a local grocer, a cop, and a famous playwright, all come to love him because of his good nature. Most especially I enjoyed the lasting friendship he forged with the librarian who patiently teaches Doug how to draw and paint and who introduces him to the beauty of Audubon's work in the first place.

I must admit, too, that there is a certain nostalgia for the past here, and I feel like I am Owen Wilson in Midnight in Paris because I long for a past that I've idealized. I think of the world we live in now, and somehow I imagine that a small 1960s town in upstate New York is the perfect place to live and grow up. In my imaginings, the people of Doug's world have strong values and work hard. Politics aren't the dirty game they are now, computers haven't over run people's lives, everybody knows their neighbors, and no one is bombarding people with messages about sexuality. And of course, that makes life simpler.

It isn't that I really think that is really true...that some past era is more ideal than the present, or even that I think Scmidt is painting such a picture. Obviously not since the themes are focused on abuse, the horrors of war, sickness, and loss. However, even with all the troubles Doug faces, he has an unflagging sense of determination and hope. I love that this down and out kid can face his father, his brother and even his teachers and Principal Peattie with a sense of courage and purpose, even if he is only in the eighth grade.

And I think that is the best part of the story, that all people, no matter how old or young, can add meaning and value to our lives. Doug actually taught something to me about myself, and it was a lesson really needed, truth be told. You see, I have a habit of jumping to conclusions about people. Throughout the story, I wanted to defend Doug from the villainous/short sighted/abusive adults around him. I thought, quite often as I read, "Oooohhh! If only I were his mother, I would tell those so-and-sos a thing or two." But Gary Schmidt had something so much better in mind for Doug. Instead of creating a boy who was a tattle tell, he created a boy who was a patient learner who could solve his own problems. I could stand to be a lot more like Doug.

Mr. Gary Schmidt is now on the list of favorites, too. Now go out and read this book.

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A Child

My friend's little boy has an inoperable brain tumor. His prognosis is terminal.

That's pretty final, don't you think? I think it is, and it makes me feel very very sad for him. It makes me feel very sad for his parents. It makes me feel very sad for his little brother, who might not get the chance to know him. He's a very sweet, good and extremely smart boy. He's also very special, and I could sense that from the time I met him. Of course, all children are special, but there is something different about this boy. Everyone who knows him cannot help but adore him.

And of course, this feels like tragedy feels. Real life tragedy. The kind that cuts your heart and makes you cry and cry. I imagine my friend, and I imagine her finding out, for the first time, that her little boy probably won't be around for too much longer. In fact, that is the most likely scenario, though it does not change the fact that I still believe that he might make it. Even if survival is almost zero percent likely. Maybe it is God's will that he will survive and maybe it is not. But I trust that His will will be done.

I've been thinking so much about what it must feel like, to look at your sweet little child and know that these moments might be some of the last moments you will spend together. What would it be like to take him in your arms and hold him while he sleeps or touch his hand or kiss his cheek? What would it be like to watch him sleep or play with his friends? What would that be like to have a conversation with him? All of this when you know that these moments are not guaranteed tomorrow?

I do think it is so sad, so very very sad. But I also think there is a beauty there, too. I imagine that my friend feels very privileged to have this sweet boy for the time she has him. I imagine that she is storing up the memories of all he is and all he has done so that she can remember him always, even if he has to go. And I imagine she sees the blessing in being a mother, especially in being his mother. I cannot think of anything more special than to be a mother.

She will always be his mother, no matter what happens, and he will always be her boy. Always.

Grandmas

A few weeks ago, I had a very vivid dream of my Grandma Andrus. You know they type of dream...the type that feels like real life. And since then I've been thinking about my grandmas. They were both the kind of women I would want to be. And these are the reasons why.

I'll start with Grandma Fish.

She was probably the most generous person I know. I not only respect that she was always willing to give of her own need, I love that about her. Once I was saying something about not having any money. I was in college and my brother had just come home from his mission. She offered to send me the money that she had been sending to him. I immediately said no because I knew she probably needed that money more than me. But oh that was just her generous heart.

I have such good memories of her as a child. I would go to clean her house for her, and I remember how she patiently taught me how to vacuum and dust. She did it gently, but she made sure that if I was going to take the time to do something, I would spend the time doing it right.
Then after I was done cleaning, she would give me two dollars and make me lunch, even though I would tell her that it was okay and I didn't need it. You could never selflessly serve her because she always found a way to give back to you.

And I loved the way she would give me a glass of soda and then put an aluminum foil cover over the rest of the can and place it back in the fridge. It was common to find cans of soda in her fridge with her makeshift aluminum covers.

She was always so patient. I would ask question after question, and she never got frustrated with me. I found her presence so comforting.

She was faithful like no one I have ever known. She really caught the spirit of temple work and genealogy, and she dedicated so much of her life to finding her ancestors. I'm very proud of that.

Then there was my Grandma Andrus.

Grandma A was my kindred spirit. We loved so many of the same things...like books and writing and teaching. And then she didn't love the cooking and the crafting so much, a lot like I don't love those things. Sometimes when I was young, I would wonder where I came from, but then I would think of my Grandma A, and then I would feel like I belonged. I still think of her when I'm feeling like a misfit.

She understood me, and when I needed a boost, she could give it to me. I remember the first time I really got my heart broken, and I sat down on my front porch with her, and she helped me to feel so much better about myself. I always left her presence feeling beautiful.

She was her own person. She told me how much she loved my Grandpa A, but then she still loved having her own time. They were retired and she appreciated that he had his hobbies, and she had hers. So when he went off to ride horses and heard cattle, she was content. And she refused to drive. When I was young, I didn't understand that. I thought she should be able to drive herself around, but she didn't want to do it, and so she walked a lot...to the store or to the laundry mat. I love that she didn't bow to pressure.

She loved education. She was taking classes at BYU long past her retirement, just to learn something new.

I remember going to her house and drawing pictures for her, and she would rave over all of them, even though I'd probably given her twenty already. Then she always had cookies. I loved it when she would freeze her homemade chocolate chip cookies, and we would eat them frozen. She wasn't the best cook, but she made a mean chocolate chip cookie.

She had the sweetest relationship with my Grandpa A. One of my favorite memories is of her telling me how she would look at him and he would look at her, and she could tell that they were both thinking the same thing...that the other one was pretty special. Even now that she is gone, you can tell that my Grandpa misses her every day. I only hope I get so lucky.

I miss my grandmas. All the time. And I'm grateful for the things they taught me, mostly by example. They are the type of women I aspire to be...one day.

I Must Admit

So this was a good idea, this blogging daily thing. I mean, I am pretty proud of myself for sticking with it for almost an entire year so far. In about a month, I will be done with that year...and so I confess that I am not sad about it.

Mostly because I am not sad that I won't have to come up with blog topics every day. I'm pretty tired of that, truth be told. It's hard, really, to come up with new things to say, especially when you feel like you don't have anything super cool and exciting to tell everyone. Like...hey, I have a boyfriend or hey...I have a job! Those two things would be my favorite things to blog about, if those two things ever happen in my life again. I'm starting to wonder, is what I'm doing. But you have probably heard more about that than you ever would want to hear, so I shall stop there.

Here are a few other things I'll admit to, since I seem to be in a confessing mood lately.

1. I was in a beauty pageant. And I don't know what my grown-up self thinks of my twenty-year-old self doing such things. Such nonsensical things. I mean, it took a lot of guts, you guys, and don't let anyone tell you any different. I'm probably not really the pageant type of girl as it is, you know. But there you have it. I was in a beauty pageant.

2. I really hate the sound of mouths smacking. This probably sounds very funny and perhaps vulgar. But what I mean is, I hate it when I hear people smacking food or gum. Or that smacking sound some people make when they sleep. Have you ever heard someone smack in their sleep? OMG...it really grosses me out. I really don't know why, but it makes me crazy to hear those sorts of noises. Even kissing noises, well, they sort of gross me out, too. But I don't notice it when I'm kissing...hmmm. I guess that's a good thing.

3. I'm vain about my hair. I mean really and truly vain about it. I'm not vain about anything else. Well, I'm just not as vain about anything else like I am about my hair. Now if you saw me on a day where I was just lounging around the house or at the gym, you may think I was lying. But that is only because I feel that home/gym time doesn't count. But man, I really spend a lot of effort/money/time on my hair.

4. I tried to write a screen play for Anne of Green Gables once. But then in the middle of it, those wonderful Anne movies came to PBS, and while I was a little miffed at someone stealing my thunder, well, they were the best movies ever committed to film, so how could I be sad?

5. I've been driving a Lincoln Town Car these days. Wouldn't you know, it is the smoothest, most comfortable ride pretty much in the history of cars? So my grandpa loaned it to my mom and I while my dad is away with the truck...and we won't drive his other truck because it's this beastly Dodge is what it is. I mean beastly. Anyway, so my most adorable Grandpa A (and I can say without reservation that Grandpa A is the cutest old man alive or in the history of old men, really) let us borrow his car. And I admit that at moments I feel like I'd fit right in if I were back in Newark. Back in the Jersey. But alas, I'm driving around in Spanish Fork in a Lincoln Town Car. Well, beggars can't be choosers, and that Grandpa A is pretty nice to let us borrow it.

Just a Little Sunshine

I have never loved January, and I think I never really knew it.

When I was probably thirteen or fourteen or something like that, my dad noticed that my mood was not so good. We had, at the time, a greenhouse of sorts, so the room was almost entirely glass. My dad hooked up the heater and set out a lounge chair, and then he took me inside, and I spread out on the chair. After an hour or so, I felt better. It turns out that all I needed was just a little sunshine.

The greenhouse is long gone. I sort of wish it was still here.

I've known for a long time that I suffered from seasonal affective disorder, but last year I was in Texas, and last year, for most of the year, I could spend time outside. And this year I'm in Utah, and so I cannot spend time outside as much since it is so cold, and we've had terrible inversion so there's been lots of smog in the valley and in general it just hasn't been so great to be outside. Well, last year, I didn't have such a hard time, and I am telling you I can tell the difference and it is big. It is HUGE!!!

Today I felt an unreasonable amount of hopelessness...almost like I want to crawl out of my skin if things don't change, and I really couldn't understand why. Maybe because I didn't have the winter blues last year, I forgot what it is like to get like this. Actually, I think I forget every year and then the blues come, and I wonder what is going on until I finally remember that oh...of course. It's January and it's the dead of winter and I need some sun.

The end.

Three to Get Deadly

This was one of those impulse reads. Browsing around the library...the 500 bright neon Janet Evanovich novels caught my eye. But honestly, I've been quite curious about the Stephanie Plum series, and I had heard good things about them. So here is my review. Say what you will, this was good for a laugh.

Three to Get Deadly by Janet Evanovich

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


One Miss Stephenie Plum is off to catch a bail jumper, this time in the form of Moses Bedemier. The problem being that "Mo" is an old and beloved candy store owner, and half of Trenton wants to canonize him. But he was caught carrying an illegal concealed weapon, and now Stephanie risks becoming the most unpopular girl in Trenton because she is out to find him and recover the bail.

I'm really really torn right now.

So here's the thing, you guys. I read mysteries/thrillers because I really do like them. I like books that I can't put down because I am dying to know what is going to happen next. And I rarely give these sorts of novels more than three stars because they aren't in any way great. It usually stops at like for me because how can I justify giving a stock story more than that? I can't.

Well, I must tell you that Miss Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter extraordinaire is not very stock...at least not when it comes to this genre. She's Jersey in an adorable, more down to earth sort of way than Snookie or J-Wow. And despite myself, I can't help but love the Jersey in her. She's laugh out loud funny, she's an absolute airhead, and I really like her a lot. Besides the fact that who decides her main character should be a bounty hunter, anyway? I think that's my favorite part of the whole schtick here.

And the side players aren't bad either, especially her family but really most especially Grandma Mazur, a feisty old woman out to find herself a new husband. The thing is, these characters are pretty much the opposite of anything written by, say, James Patterson, who takes himself awfully seriously for writing formulaic books with predictable characters. So maybe here the story is a bit predictable but so what? The characters are completely kookie, and obviously Evanovich isn't taking any of this seriously at all. That, my friends, is perfectly endearing.

And then there is this...perhaps my favorite line of the entire novel. "I decided at an early age to stop being embarrassed over family. This is yet another advantage to living in Jersey. In Jersey everyone has the right to embarrass themselves with no reflection on anyone else. In fact, embarrassing yourself periodically is almost required." If you've ever set foot in Jersey...or had the unfortunate experience of watching Jersey Shore (which I have not because I saw it first hand so why would I watch it?), this rings true. Not to mention the fact that its absolutely hilarious. So I'm not going to lie to you. I thoroughly enjoyed this.

But then comes the torn part. You see, it's a little bit (a lot) on the vulgar side...maybe? I can skip the swears, which I do. But this Mo guy was involved in some really foul stuff, none of which was entirely necessary to the story. And the characters, especially Lula, who was really kind of funny, well, she has a very shady history, and it makes her quite salty. So I cringe because I want to recommend it and I don't want to recommend it. I guess it's a buyer be ware sort of situation. And the jury is out as to whether I will or will not read another Stephanie Plum novel.


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Confessional...The Guilty Pleasure

These are the things I rarely like to admit to and neither do you. Admit it. There are some things that you know you should not love but that you do love...like Peeps. No, I do not love Peeps. I find marshmallows foul and utterly revolting. Even on s'mores these days. Even in hot chocolate, which I made the mistake of ruining my hot chocolate the other day with stupid marshmallows. And so Peeps are not a guilty pleasure for me, but they might be for you because they are gross and you shouldn't enjoy them but you do.

I digress, as per usual. Here are some of my guilty pleasures, as per category:

Movies/television...
Save the Last Dance (and really all bad dance movies...Step Up, anyone?). Come on...who can resist it? Because even if the lines are cheesy and the acting is questionable, the dancing is awesome. And in the end, that's all that matters, really.

Clueless and Mean Girls and Easy A. I think I'm probably too old for this sort of nonsense, but I actually think these three shows are both hilarious and smart. And I love them. Clueless = my generation meets Emma (genius! And I love Cher!!!). Mean Girls = Tina Fey...need I say more? (Not to mention Rachel McAdams who is my favorite in this movie, so I guess I did need to say more.) Easy A = Scarlett Letter meets your all American good girl and what isn't to love, especially Miss Emma Stone, who is quickly becoming my all time favorite actress.

Project Runway. This show is a fave. It's sort of shallow, I agree. And sometimes I think that they need to chill out and not take it all so so so seriously. I mean, really just get a life because they are clothes, people, but I do enjoy seeing what the contestants sew up!

Books/magazines...
Mary Higgins Clark novels...at one time, anyway. Truth be told, I haven't read one in a long time. But I think I read everything she had written up to that point by the time I graduated high school. The stuff is sexist crap about women who need to be saved by a knight in shining armor, but I really ate that up when I was seventeen.

Gossip magazines, like People and such. I try to avoid them because more and more the gossip just really bothers me and I pretty much couldn't care less about the Kardashian clan. Really wouldn't mind if that name never crossed my ears again. But then again, I do love seeing pictures of celebs in fancy clothing and, well, I do sort of enjoy seeing a fancy wedding photo here and there.

Novels in the mystery/thriller genre. I've read very very few books in this category that are in any way cerebral and/or original. Formulaic is the key to these bad boys. I should know because I have read more than my far share. And yet I cannot stop myself from reading them. I say I will swear them off, and then I find myself reading yet another. Why can't I quit you mystery/thriller? (You knew I was going to go there.)

Foods/beverages...
Nutella and bananas. Or Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches. Now it isn't that others don't love this stuff together, too, because you'd have to be out of your mind not to love them. But, as a rule, I don't do it because I'd probably be stuffing myself with this all day every day. Especially the Nutella/banana combo since that is a little bite of heavenly goodness. My waist line thanks me for not indulging my palette.

Speaking of food combos, have you ever tried spreading some peanut butter onto bread...white bread for this particular dish, thanks...and then placing some sliced dill pickle on top. I know you think I'm disgusting, but it's not too shabby! You will go and try it, now. I know you will.

Coke. I indulged a little over the holidays. But I'm off it again. It's my most worst most detrimental guilty pleasure. Booooo! Why does it have to be so darn good???

My Cousin Amanda

So when I was a little girl, I had this favorite cousin named Amanda. Her family lived far away from my family (Amanda was born in Colombia and isn't that so exotic?), so I didn't really get to see her all that often when we were really little. So you can imagine that I was quite excited when they would come to town. That would stay with Grandma and Grandpa Fish next door, which was alright by me. That way I could play with her every day.

You can then imagine that I was especially happy when her parents moved here for good, and then we could see each other more often.

And here is the thing about Amanda. We didn't necessarily hang out in the same groups in high school, but we really were friends. That is what I like about Amanda most. She's smart and cute and fun to be around. But still it is my favorite that we are friends.

Today we went to lunch together and we talked for over two hours. Isn't that so nice to be able to sit down with a family member, someone who has known you almost your entire life, and talk like that? Sometimes you love family members but you really aren't friends...mostly because you have nothing in common. Just because you are family members doesn't mean you have to be best friends. But I'm very very glad that Amanda is a very good friend and my cousin. She's someone I trust and love and appreciate.

I really feel grateful that she and I were born so close together and that we can be friend, and I really don't think that is a coincidence. I think that is more like a tender mercy. It is one more thing for me to feel grateful for.

Saving Francesca

I cannot get enough of Melina Marchetta. Fantastic!

Saving Francesca by Melina Marchetta

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Allow me the indulgence of just one line, if you will..."I'm not having this discussion. Thomas Mackee is the last bastion of arrested development and hormonal retardation." Are you kidding me Melina Marchetta? That might be one of the funniest lines I've read in very long time. And it's little gems like this one that I find so absolutely delightful about Marchetta's writing. I imagine that in real life Ms. Marchetta is very very funny.

So anyway, Francesca is faced with a very difficult time when year eleven rolls around (Australia's junior year in high school, fyi). In year eleven she must leave her all girl's school attend what has, up to that point, been an all boys school...the dreaded St. Sebastian's. Francesca and about thirty other girls are introduced to the all male cadre in an attempt to turn the school into a co-ed facility. I say attempt because the school has some adjusting to do before the institution will be truly co-educational. And then there is the crisis she is facing at home with her dear mother, a woman who inspires both fury and adoration in her daughter. What's a girl like Francesca to do when she has to leave behind friends to attend a new school, and her mother is falling apart at home, and she's falling for a boy that she has no business falling for? And how is she supposed to manage all those neanderthals at St. Sebastian's, anyway?

I dearly adored this story, but I wasn't convinced at first that I would. It got of to a bit of a slow start, but that might have had something to do with all the distractions while I was reading it...or a little bit of my bad mood. But I got over that, went to a quieter place to read, and, well, you know what happened then. I couldn't put it down.

This is what I like about the way Marchetta tells a story.

1. It feels like you would meet these people in real life. And then the things that they do and say feel like things people do and say in real life. Only maybe with a bit more panache, because hey, it is fiction, after all. In any case, I did feel like I might have taught a few kids like these particular teens.

2. Marchetta doesn't feel the need to got into detail about what her characters look like. In fact, she's very sparse in the telling. She focuses on what they do, instead, and in the end isn't that so so so so much better? I think so. I also like that she isn't creating demi-gods to be worshiped. I'm a little tired of the perfect schtick.

3. In this particular story, I really liked how Marchetta explored the subtleties of the female relationship. Don't you know that finding good girlfriends is a hard hard things to do? Francesca starts the story sort of morning the loss of her friends from her all girl's school, St. Stella's. Those girls are off to a different school, and so she is left with making new friends. But as the story goes on, Francesca starts to see that the old friends were probably never her real friends - they are selfish girls that she's better off without. But Marchetta isn't in your face about it. Slowly Francesca starts to see that while girl friends are necessary, some girls aren't the kind that you want to give bff status. In any case, female relationships can be really tricky, especially when you are young, and I really appreciated Marchetta's treatment of them in this book.

4. I loved the way Francesca warmed up to the boys in the school. And I'm not talking about the crush/boyfriend relationships. I'm just talking about how Francesca learned to navigate her way through a very masculine world and how she learned to value her budding friendships with them. I imagine that if you spend your entire education with girls only that boys would be something of a different species. I also imagine that if a I were a guy in this world...a world of no girls...and if my expectation had been that it would remain so until I graduated, well, then the introduction of the girls couldn't have been an easy thing for any of those boys either.

Over all, I loved it. I recommend* it especially to those who loved E. Lockhart or any of Marchetta's other work.

*My one warning is the drug/alcohol use and open discussion of sex. There isn't anything that I found overtly offensive, but I am just putting the warning out there for those who are wary of such things. The kids do drink, some do drugs and there are some discussions of sex/body parts.

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This One Dream

So sometimes I do dream of being a very successful author and such, and I imagine the good things I might do with my cash because I'm successful and all. I imagine helping my brothers pay off student loans and buying houses for family members and sending my nieces and nephews to college.

And then I dream of renovating libraries. I'm actually dead serious about this.

It all started while living in Newark. Newark has a very beautiful library housed in an old building...right across the street from a beautiful little park. It's the one place in Newark besides my apartment (okay, you got me, and the law school, sometimes, when finals weren't going on) where I felt sanctuary. Now I wouldn't want to go renovating that particular library too much because it is sort of perfect just the way it is with its musty stacks and such. But I thought it would be fun to create two really great spaces: one for the children's section and one for the young adult's section. I imagine bright colors and comfortable seating arrangements and just something generally inviting for the young ones so that when the come in, they feel like books are awesome and they can settle on in and have a good read. The YA section was a hall way, really, and I just think they could have something more exciting.

Well, then...you see, I grew up in this small town called Spanish Fork, which is, by the way, my current place of abode. And we had this little library in the center of the city park. When I was just a wee one, that library seemed large and wonderful, and I remember how it looked, and I loved going there.

I went there today. Uh oh. Let's just say that after living in Rockwall where the library is stunning...and I do mean stunning...I was spoiled. It's just about the most beautiful library ever. But back to S.F. and the mess that is the library.

One, they rearranged things so that now when you walk in there is no open space, and oh when you walk into a library open spaces are so good. You want to feel welcome and happy that you came. Instead, the stacks are right there, up close and in your face, and you feel a bit claustrophobic when you walk in the door. It's no good. Two, everything is so brown. I remember bright colors and retro seventies chairs and even if it was dated, it had a feel to it that I loved. Three, because the space isn't open, the windows can't really be appreciated. I'll admit that the library's architecture leaves something to be desired, and it is too too small, but there are some pretty nice windows, and, well, they aren't being used to the best advantage of the library.

And then I thought of my renovation idea. So when I do become a rich fancy pants writer and I have my own charity for renovating library spaces, Spanish Fork comes first, and we are taking it back, baby. We're going to restore it to its glory days. And I'm telling you, it's going to be cool retro seventies. Maybe we'll add on to the back or build a second story, too, because it is too cramped up in there. Of course, we'll expand the collection, too, and add in some computer stations and study rooms and then it will be inviting.

Because, dude...that library...it's just a mess.

Steve Jobs - The Preview

I make no secret that I am a Mac. And I've sort of had an esteem for Mr. Jobs and his business acumen. I love the innovation of his products. I remember first falling for Mac when they came in colors because I wanted the pink and white laptop...just like on Legally Blonde. I probably wanted it more because it was pink and less because I knew anything about computers and quality.

But I digress. So I have really been impressed with Apple and especially Steve Jobs' ability to keep it fresh and innovative. Then I picked up his biography...Steve Jobs. He's nothing like I expected he would be. I had this idea that he was really nice and easy going and that he probably had this relaxed management style. Don't ask me why. It was all assumption, I guess, based on what I had seen of him in public. And that included not very much. Because well, I'd only really seen him releasing new products. I think I just assumed it since I love the product.

I had no idea that he could kind of be a jerk.

I'm not too far into the book. Just the first hundred pages or so. But I have to say this about him. He was many things...arrogant, mean, manipulative. But he was also certain. Isn't that a good thing to be? He went after getting what he wanted because he was certain it would work, that it would be good. He was right. I'm sure he was somewhat driven by profit, but I don't think that was first in his heart. I think first he believed that his (and Wozniak's) ideas were good ideas that people could use and would want.

I envy that certainty. I want to be that certain in my own life. I wonder how that works, too, because it seems so different from my own nature which is sort of a nervous, doubting type of nature. I just wonder what parts of his brain worked differently than mine do. I know the world is made up of all sorts of people with so many different gifts. Maybe certainty in oneself is one of those gifts. I'm not sure, but I am impressed with it.

By the way, it's a good read, interesting because he was, despite his flaws, an interesting character. Book review to come.

The Joy of Books

My friend Melanie posted this on FB, and I just had to share. I love physical books, and I love libraries. I plan on getting an ipad, and I plan on using it as an ereader, so I'm not saying that I do not appreciate all the wonders of technology, especially as they relate to reading.

But then, I also cannot wait to have my own place again, and I cannot wait to buy bookshelves, and I cannot wait to fill those shelves with books, books, and more books. Maybe even one day I will have a little home library of my own - one with a bay window that is covered in cushions where I can read to my little heart's content.

In the mean time, I'll enjoy the beauty that is this little video. Oh, I love books!

Mistakes...in YA Fiction

I have developed a real love for the genre. It might be my current favorite, and in fact, I think I read more YA fiction than any other genre in the past two years or so. While there have been some really great books, like On the Jellicoe Road, How to Save a Life, Before I Fall and The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, I have read some things that I just did not love very much. Here are the things that I'm discovering about YA books that don't quite hit the mark.

1. Plagiarism... The story is some other author's story. Now it's true that all stories are just recycled versions of something that was written long before. But...there is a difference between using general ideas and taking an entire plot outline and changing the names and the locations and then calling it one's own. It seems like a lot of authors have jumped on the Twilight Saga bandwagon, for example, but I'm pretty sure that once Meyer tapped into that market, it was over. I guess what I find most annoying about this is that it lacks creative merit. I suppose if you can tell a new story about a supernatural boyfriend and his mortal girlfriend, you should make a go of it. I, however, am extremely skeptical.

Lesson, write your own book. If you can write an entire novel, you can write your own story.

2. The Dreaded Love Triangle... There are certain tropes in literature that are tough to pull off in a compelling way, and the love triangle is one of them, especially if it is a focal point of the story. The more it gets used, the harder it is to make the romantic tension feel any different from the other stories already out there. And right now, it's tired tired tired. I even have to call out Sara Zarr. As much as I loved How to Save a Life, she was getting dangerously close to ruining the story with the love triangle; fortunately, she didn't cross over the line. What's more...and probably worse? A poorly executed love triangle forces the idea that the more a girl is wanted by the boys around her, the more valuable she is. At least, in most of the books I've read, it seems that was the message being sent. I find that difficult to swallow. Woman are more than objects to be desired whose value is directly in proportion to her desirability. I would think that in a modern age, we'd have come a lot farther than this. It isn't a message I would want to send to my child.

I think it is a mistake to use it. Period. For the next thirty years.

3. Overtly sexual behavior... There seems to be a push to make the stories "sexy". I find this to be frustrating for more than one reason. First, it's pandering to what authors think the YA audience wants. Young adults are just that - YOUNG. And generally speaking, they like the sweet stories about crushes and and a good kiss. Second, overly sexual books are masking other problems. I think authors use it to hide under-developed characters, or to mask sub par writing, or to hide the story's lack of direction or depth. Wake is the perfect example of this. The sexiness was used to bamboozle the reader. Fact is, the story and the characters were not up to snuff.

Before I Fall pushed the line, and I admit that it probably crossed it. However, I also think that book is more for adults, or at least much older teens, and then the sexual content was used to develop the characters and their rotten behavior. In any case, it wasn't a blanket endorsement of such behavior. Wake was. Call me old fashioned, but we should not be endorsing sexual behavior to teenage girls. Period.

Bottom line - young adult readers care more about the thrill of the crush, the excitement of the first kiss.

4. Language... Speaking of sexual content, the language is also a problem. The best YA novels I've read lately have used it minimally or not at all. I think such language is distracting, and again, it's just a ruse to hide poor writing, plotting, character development. I also think it's a way to pander to an audience.

Oh, and death to the F word. Hate it!

5. All fluff no substance... The cover is beautiful. But the story is severely lacking. Everyone in the story is a super-model/athlete/movie star. But the characters are dull and boring. It takes more than a pretty character to make a book work. Same with the cover. I wish authors would take more time editing (and maybe that editors would actually edit).

Pretty covers are nice, but I'd take a poorly executed cover with a good story any day.

6. And last, my least fave thing ever, telling and not showing... I think this is a lazy way to tell a story. Every good story lets its reader inside of the action. Think The Hunger Games. You are watching Katniss do something (at least in books one and two). Regardless, stories like Clockwork Angel could be awesome, but Clare kept telling us what happened instead of giving us some action. ACTION!!! It's sort of boring when a character goes on about what happened in the past, especially when what happened could have been a really great scene. It's probably harder, I admit, to create the scene, though. Still, if Clare (and others like her), ever wants her work to stand up next to Finnikin of the Rock, she's going to have to make the effort.

SHOW SHOW SHOW...ACTION ACTION ACTION. The end.

Road Maps

Today in church, I realized something about my "willingness" to be obedient. The lesson in Sunday School covered Nephi's return to Jerusalem with his brothers to obtain the brass plates. Many many times I've heard and read this story of Nephi's willingness to listen and obey.

Sister Thompson was giving the lesson, and she was asking us whether we would be willing to do as Nephi did or what our thoughts would have been if we had been in Nephi's shoes. Some people said they would have asked why they had not gotten the plates before they left. Some people thought that they would not have wanted to walk back the 200 miles and then return 200 miles. I thought that I would have been willing as long as someone (i.e., God) was going to give me a step by step road map/plan of every last thing I had to do before I left.

Of course that is not what happened. They had two failed attempts before Nephi got it right. Maybe that is part of life. We have to make mistakes while learning to understand what the Lord is trying to tell us - you know - all part of learning how the Spirit works when it speaks to us. Or maybe it required an effort on their part first...a demonstration of their willingness to do what was asked by coming up with a way to accomplish the task.

And then the miracle happened, and Nephi was indeed guided, step by step, through the task, and he obtained the plates. But he had to take it step by step, and he wasn't given a road map for the entire task before hand. He went one way, received the confirmation to go forward and then he took the next step. And so it went.

I've been thinking a lot about writing, and I think that I've wanted to Lord, as funny as this sounds, and please don't laugh at me, but I think what I've secretly wanted was the Lord to show me what to write. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I've wanted Him to give me the entire story. Oh my goodness, I'm a silly silly girl. Of course that isn't the way it works.

And besides, I do think He's given me the go-ahead through various little things that I won't go into here. I'll just say that I think He has been trying to tell me that I can do it. So I need to stop waiting for the road map because I know that there will be no road map. There will, however, be help along the way to guide me in the right direction.

Snow...

I'm not saying that I want lots of snow because I do not want lots of snow. I would, however, like some snow, and I would like a good snow storm. Well, today I woke up and it had snowed, but I wouldn't call it a good storm because there were only a few inches on the ground, and that isn't going to bring anything to a halt in Utah.

Strangely enough, even after living in Dallas all last winter, I haven't missed a good snow storm in years. That is to say, every winter for at least the last ten years, I've been snowbound somewhere. And that's the way I like it. It's good to be stuck inside because of a good snowstorm. Last year, in Dallas(!!!), we had a week of storms! These are my favorite things about being snowed in during a good storm.

1. Everything gets quiet. I love the hush associated with a good storm. Even in a bustling city where the noise is a constant, like Newark or New York, it gets really peaceful. I remember walking through New York one winter night during a good little snow storm, and oh my, it was beautiful and mysterious and calm. Amazing.

2. I have an excuse to stay in and curl up with a good book or I might have a movie marathon. I love love love getting under a warm blanket and reading in the peace or watching Harry Potter.

3. I stay in my p.j.s and wear my slippers or my big fuzzy socks, and I stay comfortable all day long.

4. I have some good memories in Virginia. One year we made yummy soup and invited a friend or two over to watch t.v. Oh good soup on a snowy day is the most perfect thing ever.

5. Once we invited friends over, made dinner and treats, and we played card games.

6. Have you ever trudged through D.C. in the snow? It is delightful, I tell you. A sunny, snow-covered Washington is truly beautiful and magnificent.

7. I particularly enjoyed a snow day in Newark because I could look out my window over the rooftops and see all the snow and feel the chilly glass against my skin. I adore snow covered roofs. Wouldn't it be magical to look over the Paris rooftops during a snow storm? Oh it would!

8. Getting snowed in requires a cup of hot chocolate and some treats. You have to have hot chocolate when snowed in, and that makes the reading and the movie watching all the better.

9. It means I can take a nice, warm, long shower, and I don't have to do my hair or put on my make-up because I won't be venturing out.

10. I love the white spread over every little thing, the way that the trees glow at night under the lights, and the way green of the fir trees peaks out from under the snow. I love the fluffy white pillows that pile up on fences and picnic tables and porches.

You know what I really think? I think a good snowstorm is God's way of telling everyone to slow down. I think it's His way of saying take a break. I think it's His way of bringing a little bit of peace into our lives. And so I feel a need for a good snow storm every year. And wouldn't it be sad if this year, of all years since I am in Utah, I didn't get that? Oh I hope not!

Charity Girl

This is my first foray into the world of a traditional Regency Romance. Maybe later on I'll try out another one, but for now, I think I'm going to read other books since this was a bit of a let down. The review explains why.

Charity Girl by Georgette Heyer

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Apparently I have this little problem when it comes to choosing books from a genre. I find myself choosing the one book that is not representative of the group. Like that time I picked up an Orson Scott Card novel with the intention of giving science fiction a try. I've NEVER read science fiction, and guess what? I still haven't ever read science fiction because I just happened to choose the one Orson Scott Card book that is NOT science fiction.

And I've done it again! My mother is a huge fan of Regency Romances, so I was looking through her shelf of old books, and found Charity Girl. I figured, since it is Georgette Heyer and Georgette Heyer is the queen of the Regencies, this would be the perfect book. (BTW...I have read one contemporary Regency recently, Seeking Persephone, which I did sort of adore. But I wanted an "original" example of the genre, I guess...and now I'm rambling, so moving on.)

The problem is, I didn't pick the prototypical Regency. I picked the one wherein Miss Heyer seemed to be experimenting...maybe? I don't know. But it didn't have the sweet and lovely heroine versus the mean and brooding hero. You know how the story goes down. These two folks are completely incompatible with each other, but for some reason, they are thrust together due to some impossible circumstance. A marriage of convenience takes place early on, and then we wait and see how the two work their differences out. In the mean time, there is a lot of romantic tension because they both like each other and have lots of chemistry, but they are afraid or can't get over their pride, and so you get a glance here or a touch there, and maybe one or two small kisses. But just as in real life, you like the anticipation of the budding romance.

None of that happened here. It wasn't a bad thing, I suppose, and I liked it enough to finish it, but I was hoping for the formula. So maybe two stars is more how I feel about the fact that it was not the book I was expecting, but I gave it three because I honestly did like it. But it really stops at like for me.

But then again, the story did ramble on a bit. Here is a run down of the basic plot: girl runs away from her adopted home; girl is found by a wealthy aristocratic gentleman; gentleman must not break propriety by being seen to have seduced said girl; BUT gentleman cannot leave said girl by the wayside with out assistance; gentleman takes girl to friend and goes in search of girl's grandfather and/or other possible friends to aid in girl's rescue.

And really, the part about searching and searching for the grandfather/friends went on for quite some time, and I was a bit bored with it. There was no real romantic tension between any of the characters. Unlike Seeking Persephone, I didn't find myself screaming inside at the characters to just kiss already. And then (spoiler alert...kind of but not really) the romance wasn't even between this girl and her gentleman rescuer. Ugh. Isn't that all part of the convention? Not here, I guess, because gentleman loves the woman with whom he is completely and totally compatible. That's all fine and well in real life, where people should marry those with whom they are compatible, of course, but this isn't real life, now is it? But then I didn't want him to be with the rescued heroine, either, because Heyer didn't build any romantic tension between those two characters, either.

Do you see what I am saying here??? Stick with the formula, I beg of you!!!

Oh and then the ending, well, wow, it just sped right up and all of a sudden the pickle that these characters are in got actually sort of fun and exciting, and so I would say that the last forty pages or so were a bit redemptive of the drag that was going on there in the middle of the story.

Summary...this isn't a glowing review, but it wasn't a bad book. Just didn't find what I was expecting/wanted.


View all my reviews

The Gym Pick-Up

Whilst discussing why I am absolutely hating the idea of online dating...and there are good reasons that I'm not going to talk about here and I know lots of people who have met really nice guys...even men they have married...on line, so I don't think that there is anything wrong with it, it just hasn't worked out for me. And by the way, that last sentence is a fragment, not a run-on, but I'm not really in the mood to correct it.

So my dearest Jamie and I were discussing why online dating sucks for me, and then we started talking about creepy men who have attempted the gym pick-up and even some bad date anecdotes were shared. I was laughing pretty hard by the end of our discussion, which makes me happy to know that a bad/uncomfortable date or two can, one day, be pretty good fodder for a laugh fest.

And so of course that got me thinking about the time this guy gave me a fanny pack for my portable cd player. Yes, I said a fanny pack and cd player, both items that I'm quite certain are extinct.

Here it comes you guys - the creepy gym pick-up. So there I was on the elliptical machine at the Gold's Gym in Arlington. And my portable cd player was propped right up there on the console. Well, being as that those cd players are a little unwieldy and nothing like our very small and convenient ipods, it wasn't exactly "safe" sitting up there on its little perch. And so at one point during my workout, the thing slipped off the console and fell to the floor.

Whatever, no big deal. I just jumped down to grab it, and right as I did, a gentleman who had been lifting weights near by ran over to get it for me. I grabbed it before he could, hoping to deter him. He gave me a leer that he was attempting to pass off as a smile, and I uncomfortably gave him a half grin (you know the kind, no teeth, tiny lift of the corners of the mouth...a sneer, really), and then put my headphones back in, hit the play button and continued on with my workout.

But the gentleman wasn't deterred by this brush off, and I caught him staring at me for the next twenty minutes or so. Ugh and bother. And then he did something entirely hilarious and corny and creepy all at once. He started to do push-ups while doing a head stand. I stifled my laughter, and I continued to workout, trying to ignore him.

Aside #1 = Just so we are clear, men do not get women. I do not know upon what planet a guy showing off his physical acumen is at all exciting to the ladies. It is not, in case you were wondering. It's silly and creepy and just plain made me feel super duper uncomfortable.

But then I thought, whatever, when am I going to see this guy again. Oh but I was going to see him the next day and if only I had known, I would have gone to another gym closer to work so as to avoid him. Alas. But there I was the very next day once again working the elliptical machine, and he saunters up to me with a fanny pack for my cd player, and I was so shocked. I tried to decline, but I could also very clearly see that he was having none of that, so I tried, again, to give him that half smile/sneer and accepted the fanny pack.

Aside #2 = I never wore the thing. One, I am female and vain. Hello! Just one more way that this guy did not get women. Fanny packs = front butt. I'm not about to put something like that around my waist. Two, I didn't want to wear it and give him any sort of idea that I encouraged his advances. Because I tell you, I did not encourage his advances.

Really, I just wanted to do my workout and leave. I'm not a gym bunny. I go without makeup. I go with my hair pulled up in a messy, sloppy pony tail. I go wearing some unflattering clothes, even. Because I'm going to SWEAT(!!!) (Helloooo).

Aside #4 = And just so as we are clear about another thing, girls do not think of themselves as attractive and cute whilst in the middle of a good sweat. Nope, not in the least. I understand that some of the male sex may think otherwise, but the women I know do not feel pretty when their hair is soaked and greasy and stringy and they are red in the face and they have sweat dripping down their backs.

And that, my friends, is the entirely unwanted gym pick-up. I suppose there are peeps out there who go to the gym with different intentions than yours truly. Some people want to socialize and some people want to meet potential dates, I guess. I am not one of those people. And a pretty good sign of that? I put my head phones on, I watch t.v., and I generally ignore the other folks getting their sweat on.

Regrets...And Hope

So I was reading Nat the Fat Rat's blog today, and she had a link to an article about the biggest regrets as expressed by the dying. The author, a nurse, says this:

"For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives

"People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

"When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again."

You can read her article here.

And these are the three that really hit home:

I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

I'm trying to learn to live life on my terms. I think going to law school taught me a valuable lesson. You do what you want to do because you love it, not because it makes the most pragmatic sense. Cliched as it is...follow your heart. And now that I'm out of law school and I've had a long time to stew over the decision and my own desires to actually practice law, I realize that I have to make a decision about my future that makes me happy. I loved law school, but I'm certain that I want other things from my life, now. I went, in some ways, because I thought not only that it was practical but that I had to go to graduate school. And it seemed like the only option for me. I wanted to live up to all those expectations others had of me, even that I had of me, but I wanted to do it in a safe way. I did all this only to learn that really, what I wanted back then is what I want now. To write novels. Lesson learned. Follow your heart.

I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

I am learning that there is a difference between insisting upon your own way/throwing a fit and communicating how you feel respectfully. I've always been afraid of saying what I want or of telling people how I really feel. Mostly because I'm afraid of hurting someone else, or I'm afraid of getting hurt myself. But I'm learning that there is a way to express you feelings appropriately, and that expressing your feelings matters. Relationships are much better that way. And I have never regretted being honest with others. It may have been hard at the time. It may have led to a spat here and there. And my expectations might have even been disappointed. However, I have never felt sorry that I expressed myself honestly, especially when it was scary.

I wish that I had let myself be happier.

I think that if I were going to die, and I knew it and I had a little time to contemplate it, this would be first on my list. I've spent so much time worrying about things that didn't matter. And I think that so often I think about the things that make me sad instead of the things that make me happy...time wasted worrying about what I don't have and forgetting to be thankful for what is mine.

I was struck pretty hard by something...a comment made by someone who has everything I want. She said she struggled with her self esteem. I was so surprised because she's cute and lovely and kind and has this really great, loving husband and this adorable chunk of a boy and she lives in New York, so that whole package is pretty darn great. How could she struggle, I wondered. I guess for anyone, no matter who you are, you want more. Or you know yourself so well, so much better than anyone else, so you know your weaknesses, and those things are so easy, far far too easy, to focus on.

I don't know her particular reasons for feeling that way, but I am certain, now, more certain that I have ever been, that gratitude for what I do have and an ability to focus on all that is right with my life instead of the other way around is the answer. There is always hope to change. I do not, I know this, want to die regretting that I wasn't happier.

Some Random Stuff

1. My love for Matt Damon grows. Saw We Bought a Zoo. Talk about a sweet movie. It was sugary sweet, but it only makes me love Matty more. The little girl who played his daughter stole the show for me, though. She might be one of the cutest children I have ever seen...only to be rivaled by my own nieces and nephews, of course.

2. I'm really enjoying my gym membership. It's nice to know that I don't have to come up with my own work outs, which, to be honest, was getting really really tired. And I know I can do several different things, which is also good, since I was starting to burn out on my own. A few more weeks, and I'm pretty sure I would have been slacking on the weights, but now I have new motivation with a lot of variety. Variety is the spice of working out!

3. I'm reading a real live Regency Romance. It's cute, even if I keep saying that romance novels are not for me. And especially after reading In Cold Blood, this is the perfect breather. Besides that, I need a little romance in my life.

4. Biggest Loser is baaaack! I'm pretty happy since I've started my own healthy habits, and I am hoping to be losing weight with the contestants instead of watching them workout and eating ice cream while I wish for better days. I really am finished with this particular fight, and so I'm ready to work really hard to get rid of this weight. I'm dedicated to it for six months. SIX months.

5. President Monson's message in this month's Ensign is my new year's mantra; he called it his ABCs...Attitude, Belief, Courage. Attitude = positive and hopeful. Belief = in self and in correct principles. Courage = facing challenges without fear. So here is to a new year, a new job, a new car and a new boyfriend. ATTITUDE, BELIEF, COURAGE!

Five Years Old

My computer is five. She's actually five and a half. So I have to say that I've really gotten my money's worth from this little gem. She's had some issues along the way, including a hard drive that crashed in law school, and I admit that I was not so happy when that happened. Not happy at all. But those Mac Store Geniuses brought her back to life and I have the old hard drive and some day I will get all that stuff back...the writing and the pictures in particular.

So anyway, she's five and a half and she's showing the signs of wear and tear. She's slow, and she has to think a lot to get things done, and I'll admit that at times I want to throw her out the window. Sometimes I wait three or four minutes while the wheel of death spins and spins and I wonder if today is the day that she's going to leave me forever. I most certainly hope not.

The thing is, for a machine that has been used for hours and hours a day for almost her entire life, well, I can't complain about her slowness. I'm just afraid that it may be getting to that time when I'm going to have to replace her. I'm not super sentimental about objects...about things that I own. But I sort of feel different about my Mac. She's been with me through a lot, most especially law school. And even after all three years of that kind of abuse, she's still working, still going strong.

That and I don't know how I would ever afford to replace her. I hope she can make it through this year, and then maybe, just maybe, I'll have the cash to get a new computer, and then maybe I'll enshrine this baby. In the mean time, grant me patience with her slowness. Just because something doesn't work perfectly doesn't mean it needs to be thrown out. That and I still love her.

The Storm Before the Calm

I think I might be crazy. So I've decided to do another sugar fast to start the year. That isn't the crazy part. The crazy part is the amount of sugar I took in today. I'm starting it tomorrow, and I felt like I had to get in every ounce I possibly could, and wow. I really cannot figure it out. It's like I think I'm going into the desert and have to store up as much water/food in my system because once I'm in that desert...boy it's going to be seriously hard to find food.

I just wish I wouldn't do that to myself because it doesn't help me get healthier, and then I end up regretting it since I'm probably just making myself more addicted to the crap that I'm eating. And yet I do it. It's like the storm of food before I try to take it easy on the sugar. I'm not looking forward to the cravings tomorrow.

But this year is the year that I'm determined to put this all behind me. I want this to be the year that I stop feeling so horrible about my body. I want this year to be filled with a lot of changes. A big part of that change needs to be feeling better about myself, inside and out. I have some serious issues with my self confidence. Serious. I'm just ready for change, and part of it means a sugar fast. Mostly, I think I need to strike a balance, and to do that, I need to curb the cravings, and the only way to do that is to cut back. Way back.