Books Read in 2008

I keep a list of all the books I read--for pleasure, not for work--each year.

1. King Dork • Frank Portman
2. Good Masters, Sweet Ladies • Laura Amy Schlitz
3. Long May She Reign • Ellen Emerson White
4. The Plain Janes • Cecil Castelucci & Jim Rugg
5. The Secret Language • Ursula Nordstrom
6. The New Policeman • Kate Thompson
7. The Time Traveler’s Wife • Audrey Niffenegger
8. The White Darkness • Gerald McCaughrean
9. The Dollhouse Murders • Betty Ren Wright
10. My Louisiana Sky • Kimberly Willis Holt
11. The Red Queen’s Daughter • Jacqueline Kolosov
12. Spook • Mary Roach
13. The House of the Scorpion • Nancy Farmer
14. Wait Till Helen Comes • Mary Downing Hahn
15. Before I Die • Jenny Downham
16. River Secrets • Shannon Hale
17. Waiting for Normal • Leslie Connor
18. Little Brother • Cory Doctorow
19. The Underneath • Kathi Appelt
20. The Hunger Games • Suzanne Collins
21. Sun & Spoon • Kevin Henkes
22. Eclipse • Stephenie Meyer
23. Breaking Dawn • Stephenie Meyer
24. Just Listen • Sarah Dessen
25. The Thief • Megan Whalen Turner
26. Queen of Attolia • Megan Whalen Turner
27. King of Attolia • Megan Whalen Turner
28. The Lucky Ones • Stephanie Greene
29. The President’s Daughter • Ellen Emerson White
30. The Year We Disappeared • Cylin Busby & John Busby
31. City of Bones • Cassandra Clare
32. Harriet the Spy • Louise Fitzghugh
33. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks • E. Lockhart
34. Forest of Hands and Teeth • Carrie Ryan
35. Graceling • Kristin Cashore
36. Alanna • Tamora Pierce
37. In the Hand of the Goddess • Tamora Pierce
38. Winter Dreams, Christmas Love • Mary Francis Shura
39. The Monsters of Templeton • Lauren Groff

Light the lamp, not the rat!

I heart almost all Christmas movies, but far and away the best is The Muppet Christmas Carol. A few weeks ago, when my sister came over for a day of cookie-baking and movies, she asked me, "Why do you like the muppets so much?" My flip response was "I don't understand why you even have to ask that."

But then I kept thinking about it. What is it that so appeals to me?

Well, just like with any truly great children's book, the Muppets work on multiple levels. There's the humor of these funny-looking puppets. The humor of juxtaposing fuzzy, funny puppets saying very dry or serious things. The humor of them saying the obviously funny joke. They're both silly and smart. They don't take themselves seriously but they also don't dumb themselves down.

They teach things without being "Educational." Think about how much information you learn about Dickens by what Gonzo and Rizzo talk about. Yet it never feels like a lesson. There are rewards for people who already know about Dickens, too--like in the opening song when one of the mice says, "Please, sir, I want some cheese."

And there's the lovely Christmas message, of course, to the Muppet Christmas Carol--that life is about the people you share with. Our friends and family are what give everything we do meaning. And on that note, I'm off to join my family in eating as many cookies as possible before sugar shock sets in.

Making choices

Every once and a while, I notice a theme in my reading, and usually it’s completely accidental. This fall it’s been books (and a few manuscripts) about choice. Which, okay, is an underlying theme in a lot of teen books, since it’s a big teen concern--choosing who to be, how to live life, how to be independent. But my fall reading has very much been about characters whose main conflict is the choice between being true to themselves, following their dream or passion or being in love. I’m so glad that there are these books for teen out there. They are important, because they show that it’s not all about the boy (or girl, if the protagonist is a boy). Part of me wonders if the novels about these concerns lately have been reactions to Twilight, in which Bella does pretty completely lose herself for Edward.

The novels that have struck me most are The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, The Forest of Hands and Teeth, and Graceling. I really liked them all for their strong female characters and their approaches to how these young women see their choices. In Disreputable History, Frankie has to deal with getting the guy she’s had a crush on, but him not seeing all of her, seeing her only as adorable, rather than the brilliant, challenging person she is. She has the thought in one situation, reflecting on how she's proud of herself for confronting someone, "At least I wasn’t someone’s little sister, someone’s girlfriend, some sophomore, some girl--someone whose opinions don’t matter." And later, "She will not be simple and sweet. She will not be what people tell her she should be." In The Forest of Hands and Teeth, Mary lives in a world overrun by zombies, where humans are only safe in a fenced off village. But Mary’s heard of the ocean, and believes in it, wants to find it. She, too, ends up struggling with her love for a boy and her wish to see the ocean, to believe that more exists outside their fences. "Ever since that day on the hill, ever since he promised he would come for me, this was always supposed to be our dream, together. It was never supposed to be about having to choose one or the other," she says at one point. It’s fantastic that teens have strong characters like Frankie and Mary who are confronting these sorts of conflicts, so that readers can see how these young women decide, deal with it. So that they see that being conflicted like that is okay. That they shouldn't lose themselves for someone else. The only quibble I have is: why does it have to be a choice? Why can’t they be true to themselves and their dreams and have love? Of course, maybe the key there is that neither Mary nor Frankie have met the right guys, the ones that get them, and really see them. Which is part of what I adore about Graceling. Katsa has the same trouble-- "She loved Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be anybody’s but her own."--but she finds a way to have both. She’s able to remain thoroughly herself, but also to love and be loved, however unconventionally.

Katsa reminds me a little of Alanna from Tamora Pierce’s Song of the Lioness quartet (which have been my favorite books since I was ten) in how she reconciles having her freedom and her love. The Alanna books were among the first of the “kickass girl” books, in which the hero is a girl, not a boy, along with Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown. So, twenty-ish years later, and there are many, many more books showing girls as heroes, as strong, independent people. But still facing the same choices and problems. I’d like to think that these days, though, these aren’t feminist issues, but people issues. And I do think there are boy books about the same themes.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful that I woke up to the smell of the turkey cooking; that both of my siblings and I were all able to come home for the holiday; that we still put the Macy’s parade on while we make coffee and help around the kitchen and generally putz around; that everyone still stops for a minute when Santa comes at the end; that my cousins and their kids joined us; that we sit around, talking and listening to each other; that Thanksgiving is a day to slow down and catch up with life; that my parents’ home is a warm, inviting place full of life shining in a dark, snowy, starry night.

I am thankful for a job that I believe affects people and makes the world better; that I help to bring kids and teens the kinds of stories that will stick with them and help them figure out life, choice, love, school, friendship, independence, and so many other things; that I get to know and work with awe-inspiring, creative people; that what I do is all about connection.

I am thankful for amazing friends who are funny, smart, passionate, giving, strong, and generally incredible people.

I am thankful.

Fictional Crushes

We bookish girls have lots of literary crushes. Here are mine . . .

George Cooper from The Song of the Lioness quartet by Tamora Pierce
Eugenides from The Thief, The Queen of Attolia, and The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner (hmm...I seem to have a thing for thieves)
Frederick Garland from the Sally Lockhart trilogy by Philip Pullman
Henry DeTamble from The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Captain Wentworth from Persuasion by Jane Austen
Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter books by J. K. Rowling
Wes from The Truth about Forever by Sarah Dessen
Mel from Sunshine by Robin McKinley

And, okay, I admit it, I've got a few from the TV, too . . .

Josh Lyman from The West Wing
Jess from The Gilmore Girls
George from Grey's Anatomy

I know you have your fictional crushes too...want to share them in the comments?

Sharing Books

One of my favorite quotes, the one that embodies so eloquently and deeply not only what books mean to me, but what they mean to my relationships with other people, is from a poem by W. B. Yeats: “I bring you with reverent hands / the books of my numberless dreams.”* (From "A Poet to His Beloved") I can't imagine any vow or promise carrying more significance than the sentiment that line expresses.

Books are so easily shared, yet are so tremendously personal. The person I am, the way I think, the way I approach life, have all been shaped by the books that I have read. I've never been able to name "the book that changed my life" because every book has changed my life. The ones that I love are more than just objects on a shelf (or mp3s on my ipod). They hold parts of me inside of them. In their pages, they hold the places, the thoughts, the people, the smells, sounds, emotions that surrounded me as I read. Often rereading can take me back to the time and place of that previous read, can remind me more sharply of particular moments or feelings than anything else can.

And so, sharing books, even sharing thoughts about books, can be a very intimate act, when it comes right down to it. I mentioned in a previous post that I’ve been collecting quotes since I was in high school. In blank books, I write down lines and passages from books or articles or that I just stumble across somewhere. I sometimes think that giving someone those quote books to read would reveal more about me than giving them the journals that I’ve kept in the last 15 years. In them are the ideas that I identified with, agreed with, found funny, found moving, disagreed with but found thought-provoking--and how I’ve grown in my thoughts about everything over the years (even if I am still mostly reading books for the YA audience). I love sharing books with people, I love the sense that I am saying, essentially, “Here is something that got inside my head, and I hope it gets inside yours, too, and let's talk about it once you read it.”

Everything we read affects our minds somehow, and being able to share something that affects your mind is pretty remarkable. Being able to have a conversation with another person about how that book affected you, what it made you think, is exciting. Maybe the person I share with won’t pick up on the exact same themes or passages that I did, but regardless, we’ll still both have that book, that story, inside of us. This feeling about books may be part of why I have an enormous to-read list. Because every time a friend tells me about a book they’ve loved or found interesting, I want to read it, too, to understand something that’s now a part of that person I care about.

My library doesn’t contains just stories and worlds and beautiful writing. It contains memories, emotions, thoughts. . . . The books that I keep, the ones I’ve connected to and identified with and found valuable enough to cart with me from apartment to apartment, to make sure I have the space for . . . well, I’m attached to them. Lots of times I’ve actually scribbled notes in them and marked the passages I later transcribed in my quote books. They’re little parts of my mind. My numberless dreams.


* Thanks, Angie, who introduced me to this quote. (In fact, is this quote part of the reason we became friends? Apart from our mutual literary crush on George Cooper? (And other mutual literary crushes.))

Poetry Friday

The Reader by Richard Wilbur

She is going back, these days, to the great stories
That charmed her younger mind. A shaded light
Shines on the nape half-shadowed by her curls,
And a page turns now with a scuffing sound.
Onward they came again, the orphans reaching
For a first handhold in a stony world,
The young provincials who at last look down
On the city's maze, and will descend into it,
The serious girls, once more, who would live nobly,
The sly one who aspires to marry so,
The young man bent on glory, and that other
Who seeks a burden. Knowing as she does
What will become of them in a bloddy field
Or Tuscan garden, it may be that at times
She sees their first and final selves at once,
As a god might to whom all time is now.
OR, having lived so much herself, perhaps
She meets them this time with a wiser eye,
Noting that Julien's calculating head
Is from the first severed from his heart.
But the true wonder of it is that she,
For all that she may know of consequences,
Still turns enchanted to the next bright page
Like some Natasha in the ballroom door--
Caught in the flow of things wherever bound,
The blind delight of being, ready still
To enter life on life and see them through.