2010 Support Your Local Library Reading Challenge

2010 is likely to be the year when it becomes evident that I'm getting hooked on reading challenges.

Here we go:

I'm doing the 2010 Support Your Local Library Reading Challenge.

And while I thought I'd be all set to do the highest level (100 books), I've counted the number of books I actually completed this year, and it's going to be around 75-ish.

So... I'm in at the "Stepping It Up" level, in which I vow to read 75 library books in 2010.

From J. Kaye's Book Blog, here's the deal:

"1. Anyone can join. You don't need a blog to participate. --Non-Bloggers: Post your list of books in the comment section of the wrap-up post. To learn how to sign up without having a blog, click here.

2. There are four levels:

--The Mini – Check out and read 25 library books.

--Just My Size – Check out and read 50 library books.

--Stepping It Up – Check out and read 75 library books.

--Super Size Me – Check out and read 100 library books.

(Aim high. As long as you read 25 by the end of 2010, you are a winner.)

3. Audio, Re-reads, eBooks, YA, Young Reader – any book as long as it is checked out from the library count. Checked out like with a library card, not purchased at a library sale.

4. No need to list your books in advance. You may select books as you go. Even if you list them now, you can change the list if needed.

5. Crossovers from other reading challenges count.

6. Challenge begins January 1st thru December, 2010.

7. When you sign up under Mr. Linky, put the direct link to your post where your library books will be listed. Include the URL to this post so that other viewers can find this fun challenge. If you’d prefer to put your list in the sidebar of your blog, please leave your viewers the link to the sign up page. Again, so viewers can join the challenge too."

This page will be my home base for the project, where I'll list the library books I read in 2010.

Ghost Story

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

It must suck to write a bestselling first novel. Because then the pressure is on, baby!

Audrey Niffenegger hit the bigtime with The Time Traveler’s Wife, a book I liked a lot and thought worthy of all the fuss and excitement it generated.

So with the second book, well… My take on it is badly biased by my preferences as a reader. I require characters I like. And that just didn’t happen here. These people are flawed, and not in ways I found charming.

Now, that having been said, this book was a page-turner—enough so, that I toughed it out with the messed-up characters. The story—with its gradual disclosure of more and more shocking little (big!) secrets—itself is a doozy.

Here’s what I can tell you without saying too much:

Elspeth, a woman who died too young, left her London apartment to her twin nieces Valentina and Julia. Elspeth herself was a twin to the girls’ mother—and the older set of twins had some huge, secret falling-out about 20 years earlier. When Valentina and Julia move into the apartment, they meet Elspeth’s lover Richard, who falls in love with Valentina, somewhat against his will. And that’s when Elspeth reappears on the scene as a ghost.

OK, it just gets more complicated from there—in a good way, which made the book un-put-down-able.

One final note: When I was younger, I thought it would be really cool to be a twin. This book sure would cure a person of that thought.

Grateful

Have you ever wondered: How did I turn into such a reading freak?

I think about this sometimes.

And I have an answer.

This one's fully laid at the feet of my mom.

And I am so stinkin' grateful to her for that.

When I was a kid, she let me read whatever I wanted (except for that one Judy Blume book she "hid"on the top of the bookshelf at the advice of my babysitter; like I didn't know it was there!)

But truly, I was stuck in a Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden reading rut (spree?) for a couple of years, and she never said, "Maybe you'd like to read something different for a change?" Not once. She just hauled my skinny little butt into the library time after time, and then hauled me back home with my haul.

When my sixth grade teacher asked her if she realized I was reading a book about the Armenian genocide--and wasn't she worried about that?--my mom just said, "Yes, I know." Apparently she'd already been watching to make sure I wasn't freaking out about it. (She told me this, years later. I never knew my reading patterns were being observed, thank God.)

So as I spend part of yet another Thanksgiving with my nose in a book, I will be thinking of my mom. And I'll be thanking her.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

Thank You, Mr. President: A White House Notebook by A. Merriman Smith

Merriman Smith—what a voice! He had such a light touch; how often do you hear that about a White House correspondent? He was clever, he was funny, his phrasing makes me laugh out loud.

So, of course, for Merriman Smith, things ended badly. Doggone it.

Anyway, back to our story... Here Smith focuses on the presidencies of FDR and Truman, and we get a vivid look at the life of a correspondent during those (rather wild) days, back when average old citizens had access to the White House without having to request a tour 6 months in advance from their senator or representative. And it sounds like liquid lunches were just as common then as in the Mad Men days…

The chapter titled “The Boss” is a terrific portrait of FDR, which acknowledges that the man truly was inscrutable, but then proceeds to convey a clear picture of how Smith perceived him. And Smith was a keen observer of humans, so this character study is a fascinating thing to read. (I handed this book to Mr. UR, so he could read this chapter. He read about two pages, then looked up and said, “Writing well is hard”—which led us into a brief pontification on Smith’s fantabulous writing style.)

Smith’s description of the day FDR died is gripping. It’s also strikingly incomplete.

First, the gripping part—Before even hearing the announcement, Smith had grabbed a phone because he knew, having been summoned to the Warm Springs Foundation, that the news was going to be big. His dialogue, calling Washington D.C., to report the news, is interspersed with William Hassett’s announcement of FDR’s death. When Smith screams, “Flash!” into the phone, it’s perfectly shocking. (I am grateful that journalists do what they do. And that they have the fortitude to do this work.)

Here’s the incomplete part—Nowhere does Smith mention that Lucy Mercer was in Warm Springs with FDR when he died. Smith was of that generation of journalists.

Smith is frank about his reaction to Truman’s assuming the presidency—stating that he found it difficult to think of him as the president at first. But he seems to have developed a true appreciation for him. He says that the biggest difference between Roosevelt and Truman could be summed up like this: “Franklin D. Roosevelt was for the people. Harry S. Truman is of the people.” (p. 218) I like that. (Mr. UR is all about Roosevelt, but I'm a Truman gal myself.)

Smith went on to be one of the reporters present when JFK was assassinated.


Smith wrote another grand book called Merriman Smith’s Book of the Presidents, which is simply a splendid thing: behind-the-scenes and light in tone.

Depression

Herbert Hoover by William E. Leuchtenburg

Poor Herbert Hoover. That’s what I’ve always thought.

But, as I struggled to get through this book (I have trouble reading books whose characters, real or fictitious, I do not like), I began to think I was wrong about that. Not only was Hoover personally disagreeable (while reading, I jotted the words “ill-natured cold fish,” but then wondered if I were being too harsh [...nope]); he was a spotlight hog; he was a big government spender (but only when it suited him) disguised as a free market guy; as Secretary of Commerce, he took over the domains of other cabinet secretaries without presidential approval; and he had some truly peculiar social habits.

Of course, there are many positive things one can say, too. He famously coordinated shipments of food to those starving in Belgium and elsewhere in Europe after World War I, saving countless lives. He issued an executive order that created the Veterans Administration and wrote a “Child’s Bill of Rights.” He was quite brilliant, and he was a ridiculously productive worker in just about every endeavor he undertook. During his years as Commerce Secretary and his first year as President, he was pretty darn impressive.

I’ve tended to think of him as a victim of circumstance—being dealt the Great Depression, which was the one thing he somehow could not handle effectively. But after reading this book, it seems to me that he could have employed many of the tactics he used during his relief work for Belgium—spending government money to help those in need here in the U.S. But it seems he had a mental block and could not make it happen. And most certainly, it is easy for me to sit here in my comfortable little life and criticize the poor man. But really.

It truly pains me to speak such of a fellow Iowa native.* But I just cannot bring myself to include Herbert Hoover in my blanket statement that “I Love the Presidents.” Which makes me feel quite mean, and makes me think this statement actually stands:
Poor (unloved) Herbert Hoover.


* I am feeling particularly guilty because my tiny little hometown was once also the girlhood home of his remarkable wife Lou Henry Hoover for a short time. Though the fact that I never learned that in elementary school—and only came across the fact when in my 30s—is truly appalling. What the heck kind of Iowa history was I being taught in fourth grade, for the love of Mike? Why didn't they traipse all of us earnest little souls out to the edge of town where her family lived, to ogle the site? I'd truly've been a little bit thrilled.

Booking Through Thursday: Too Short?

This week's question is:

“Life is too short to read bad books.” I’d always heard that, but I still read books through until the end no matter how bad they were because I had this sense of obligation.
That is, until this week when I tried (really tried) to read a book that is utterly boring and unrealistic. I had to stop reading.

Do you read everything all the way through or do you feel life really is too short to read bad books?

Oh, I dump books all the time. With no remorse. If I'm not liking a book by page 3, I'm moving on. Heartless, no?

There are just so many books I want to read, that I cannot bear the thought that I'm wasting time on something crummy.

So I'd say, "Life is too short to read bad books" (with each reader allowed to decide what "bad" is for herself) is practically a mantra for me.

Brutally hacking my way through the bookstacks... smiling all the way.

2009 Pub Challenge: Completed!

I arrived late on the scene for the 2009 Pub Challenge, but I completed it anyway. Hooray!


Here are the books, all published in 2009, that I read:

1. Early's Fall by Jerry Peterson (fiction)

2. Columbine by Dave Cullen (nonfiction)

3. The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson (fiction)

4. Rocket Men: The Epic Story of the First Men on the Moon by Craig Nelson (nonfiction)

5. Down Around Midnight: A Memoir of Crash and Survival by Robert Sabbag (nonfiction)

6. Marine One by James W. Huston (fiction)

7. Starvation Lake by Bryan Gruley (fiction)

8. A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick (fiction)

9. Magnificent Desolation: The Long Journey Home from the Moon by Buzz Aldrin (nonfiction)


And here are the other 2009-published books that I read but didn't review:

10. The Language of Bees by Laurie R. King (fiction)

11. Mind Scrambler by Chris Grabenstein (fiction)


This was really fun, and I'm looking forward to the 2010 Pub Challenge!

The Writer in the Secret Annex

Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife by Francine Prose

While in junior high, I read The Diary of a Young Girl about 4 times. But somehow, when the “Definitive Edition” was released about 15 years ago, I just didn’t feel like reading it. But now I’ve checked it out from the library, and Francine Prose’s book is the reason.

Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife is a mighty fine book. The subtitle identifies the main sections of the book, and the two I enjoyed most were “The Life” and “The Book.” The section on “The Afterlife,” with its accounts of all the squabbling over who “owned” the story, dragged a bit. And actually made me a little sad.

Prose brilliantly describes the appeal and the immediacy of Anne Frank’s book: since Anne addressed her diary entries to a pretend friend named “Kitty,” she wrote in the second person, addressing “you.” And we are the “you.” I’d never thought about it, but it’s completely true.
Prose also describes Anne as a skilled writer whose style developed very quickly—and who re-wrote her diary into a form near to that which was published. (Lots of details there about what Otto Frank left in, what he chose from the old/new versions of Anne’s diary, etc. Fascinating.)

So now I need to read The Diary of a Young Girl again. And rather than read the old, falling-apart edition I read until it fell to pieces*, I’ve got the “Definitive Edition” here. So it’ll be a little bit like reading the book for the first time.

While we’re talking about Anne Frank, here are two interesting things:
First, a very short bit of film that is the only known footage of Anne Frank:



And second, the Anne Frank House is creating an “Online Hiding Place,” which is due to launch next year. So it will be possible to “visit” the Secret Annex without traveling all the way to Holland. (Though I still want to go there someday. Someday.)

* one of only two books I own that are held together by rubber bands; the other is the Spanish-English dictionary that I’ve owned since third grade

Booking Through Thursday: It's All About Me

This week's question:

Which do you prefer? Biographies written about someone? Or autobiographies written by the actual person (and/or ghost-writer)?

I am a big fan of biographies; I like it when biographers examine various angles of a person's life.

Autobiographies often don't expose the warts, and what's the fun in reading a sanitized version of things? Plus, while I appreciate the work done by ghost writers, I'm a bit put off by the idea. Kind of like how I feel about presidential speechwriters, whom I find fascinating but also somewhat disturbing. (I want the presidents to be eloquent all on their own!)

So, having said that, I'll confess that I'm a one-book woman at the moment (a rare event indeed), and the book is Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys by Michael Collins. Yes, you guessed it: it's an autobiography! But it is a ghost writer-free one, a claim made by Collins in the introduction, which I believe with my whole heart. The voice just plain sounds like him (based solely on excerpts from interviews I've heard, granted, but still).

I have slowed down my reading pace to savor it, which also is a rare thing for this highly-caffeinated person. And I don't feel like reading anything else, not even the George Washington biography that's staring at me from the shelf right now.

So I'll qualify my first statement today by saying: Usually biographies, unless the once-a-decade autobiography comes along to dethrone them.

Geek-Out Attack!

Oh, good people, here is your blogger, happy--oh so happy-- (is she perhaps delirious?) at the Air & Space Museum's Udvar-Hazy Center, home of The Very Isolation Chamber Where the Apollo 11 Astronauts Were Quarantined Upon Their Return to Earth!!!

It's one of those god-awful self-portrait numbers, certain to make one appear ready for, say, an isolation chamber.

But dang. What a happy girl!

For a similar portrait, featuring Richard Nixon himself in roughly my location here, Check This Out! (You'll see Armstrong on the left, Collins in the center, and Aldrin on the right.)

Book-related note:

In my bag at the time this delightful image was captured: the remarkable Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys by Michael Collins. (I had a bus ride, followed by a shuttle bus ride, to get there, and then a shuttle bus, bus, and subway ride to get back. Can you imagine such a haul without a book? [breaks out in hives at mere thought])