Books that go bump in the night

In my reading life, I can trace a long tradition of my scaring myself witless by reading nonfiction alone late at night.

And the weird thing is, some of my favorite books have had this effect on me.

Here’s what I’m talking about:

Exhibit A: High-school-age me, reading a biography of Edith Cavell, an English nurse executed by the Germans for having aided the escape of Allied soldiers during WWI. It’s late at night, and I’m alone in my room, the only person awake in the house. And I’m completely freaked out, thinking that if I turn out the lights to go to sleep, the ghost of the executed Edith Cavell will materialize.

(I don’t believe in ghosts. Didn’t believe in them then, either.)

Exhibit B: High-school-age me, reading a book about the sinking of the Titanic. Again, it’s late at night, and I’m the only one awake. I’m utterly terrified as I climb the stairs, because I’m convinced that the spirit of Captain Smith will be walking along the upstairs hallway banister, as though he’s patrolling the bridge of the ship. As though my reading had conjured him.

Exhibit C: College-age me, reading a book about the battle of Gettysburg. Same staircase, late at night. I’m quite certain I’m walking through a foggy field of ghost soldiers as I ascend the stairs. (I recall thinking of the book title In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead and nearly snorting when I realized that maybe that’s where the “fogginess” came from. Then I thought, James Lee Burke, you’re in trouble for making this vision worse than it already was. Because even laughing at myself did not particularly relieve the terror.)

Exhibit D (oh, yes, there’s more): Librarian-age me, reading Young Men and Fire for the first time. I stayed up late reading, because I could not put that book down. And this time the thing happened at the top of the stairs. (Different house, different staircase, same freak-out.) I swear, I was really scared that if I looked out of the corner of my eye, I’d see those men sidehilling down the hallway, to their deaths.

Exhibit E: Year-2011-age me, reading Skyjack: The Hunt for D.B. Cooper. I knew, I knew! it was a dumb idea to keep reading this book late at night. I was downstairs, all alone, and I (true-crime-o-phobe) was reading a book about a master criminal. Not a good idea, lady. So as I headed upstairs, I turned on every light in every room as I walked through it, and I made it up the stairs without incident. I was thinking maybe I’d conquered that old thing. Didn’t completely have the full freak-out effect until I was getting into bed. Then, out of nowhere, had the same fear that I’d had as a child (which used to cause me to leap—and I mean leap—across my room into my bed) that someone/something would reach out from under the bed and grab my ankle. D.B. Cooper might grab my ankle! I surprised myself with the crazed little hop I did as I got (let's be honest: launched myself) into bed.

This, my friends, this is why you won’t be reading any horror reviews here. Plain old nonfiction is scary enough for this one.

Happy Halloween, y'all.

Brave new portable world

Supposedly now I can blog from my phone. We'll see.

(Droid X2, you just *think* you're smarter than me. We'll see.)

OK. Those few words just took 5 minutes to peck out. I mean, *really.*

Look book, with presidents

The President’s Photographer: Fifty Years Inside the Oval Office by John Bredar

Oh, this is so much my kind of book. There’s presidents and there’s pictures and there’s behind-the-scenes info. Oooo oooo ooooooooo!

Going in, I expected this thing to have an introductory essay, followed by nothing but photos and captions. But it’s got a full-on text going on. And it’s a great thing to read. (So often, these look books don’t have interesting texts accompanying them. It’s tragic.)

The other thing that might make one suspicious that this book would not be up to snuff is that it’s a companion book to a National Geographic/PBS video. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been sadly disappointed in the past by those companion books.

But this one… This one could stand alone just fine. The writing is zippy and what it conveys is fascinating. 

So the book’s good on its own, but the PBS program is pretty darn fabulous, too. And it’s available to watch online for free!

But the interesting thing is that the book itself describes why still photography, rather than video, is vital to capturing the essence of a presidency—because a photographer can be in a room to take a photo without also capturing the conversation that is taking place. So the photographer is granted greater access. Plus, there’s something about a photograph—the way it captures a single moment in time—that somehow speaks to us differently than a video does.

This scene took place in Decorah, Iowa - I know that place!
(photo credit: White House; photo by Pete Souza)

The book’s primary focus is Pete Souza, the current White House photographer, but it also includes plenty of photos of previous presidents, as the role of the White House photographer has evolved.

(Pete Souza’s the photographer who took that famous photo of then-Senator Obama running up the steps of the Capitol)

One of my favorite lines in the book is this one, which follows a photo of the Fords at the breakfast table at their home in Alexandria, in the days before they moved into the White House. Betty Ford’s wearing a shower cap and robe, and their dining room looks so much like the (hideous) 1970s decor I remember from my younger days. (They were real people, the Fords!) Anyway, here’s John Bredar’s brilliant accompanying text: 

“This is about as pedestrian an image as you can imagine, an utterly American morning, right down to the round wooden dining table, with a condiment-jammed lazy Susan at its center. When will the teenager drag in and begin grazing? The idea of substituting Richard and Pat Nixon into this tableau isn’t just weird, it’s a little scary.” (pp. 135) 

I like it when photography books  make me laugh.

(photo credit: White House; photo by Pete Souza)

If you, too, are a sucker for the historic photos as they happen, here’s a nifty little thing— if you “Like” The White House on The Face, you’ll get the Photo of the Day tossed your way daily. It’s actually kind of amazing.

OK, here's one more for the road.

That's the president blocking a shot by Reggie Love, his body man. And given Mr. Love's background, that's nothing short of impressive.

I love this stuff. 

Read-a-Thon: Sleep. Now.

Read-a-Thon day, you've been a delight.

And now I'm utterly wiped and am headed off to sleep. 

Feeling very good about finishing 5 books this time around. All = mysteries. Apparently that's a magic Read-a-Thon formula for me. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who visited and cheered. It's wildly encouraging.

Here's the final update: 

What else I’ve been doing: just reading since the last update

Where I’ve been reading: in the kitchen

How long I’ve been reading: 14 hours

How many books I’ve finished reading: 5 (woo-hoo!)

Chairs I’ve sat in: every darn chair/sofa in the entire downstairs over the course of the day. Usually I stick with only about 3 of them, so this gave some new perspectives to the day.

Now it's 4 a.m. (the latest I've been awake since probably college), and I am so ready to sleep. 

Happy reading to those who are rounding out these final few hours of the Read-a-Thon. I salute your fortitude!

Good night, all.

Read-a-Thon: Book 4. Do I hear 5?

Book 4: Completed! I went tearing through the latest Berger and Mitry mystery, The Blood Red Indian Summer by David Handler. I like that series, and this book was a quick thing to read.

Now I'm halfway through Steal the Show by Thomas Kaufman, the second in the Willis Gidney series. Given that it's just about 3 a.m. here, I'm not sure I'm going to finish this one before I lose steam. These eyes are getting tired, and I haven't drunk any coffee in 12 hours. But the book makes me want to stay awake to finish it, so I just might finish Book 5...

Usually it's around this time of night (morning!) that I get to feeling like I'm the only awake human on earth. But this book's characters are keeping me company, so that lonely feeling is greatly diminished this time around. 

What else I’ve been doing: checking The Face; visiting some blogs; eating a banana, some chocolate, and some crackers; drinking more water

Where I’ve been reading: reading room, kitchen

How long I’ve been reading: 13 hours

How many books I’ve finished reading: 4

Chairs I’ve sat in: comfy little chair, kitchen chair (I'm sticking with the kitchen chair for the rest of the night -- those cushy chairs make me sleepy)

Read-a-Thon: Facebook cheering section

Oh, people are lovely. A dear friend (thank you!) just sent me this YouTube video via Facebook.

Words of encouragement for sleepy book bloggers everywhere...

Read-a-Thon: Book 3

Wow. Just read a wonderful mystery novel in just over 2 hours. (Yeah, OK, so it was only 250 pages long.)

Book 3 was The Last Striptease by Michael Wiley. A rip-roaring good PI novel set in Chicago. I literally read it straight through from start to finish (without even any snack breaks!)

And the good news for me is that it's the first book in a series. I think there are three books in the series thus far, so that's happy times ahead. Wishing I had book 2 here because I would read that thing right now, but no.such.luck.

So -- reading's all I've been doing, except for sipping water and moving between the sofa and the cozy little reading chair. (That's it there in the picture, with the ottoman that's not really an ottoman because it's really a storage bin with a floor pillow flumped on the top of it.)

So far today, there have been murders and more murders in every book I've read. And probably the next book up: more murders in there! The reason I think this is working so well for me today is that mysteries and thrillers make you want to go tearing through them at breakneck speed, and that's Read-a-Thon style. Those introspective quiet novels about family relationships... on Read-a-Thon day, No.

Since it's still hella early (only 10:20 p.m.!) I'm wondering if I might make it through 2 more books...? We Shall See.

Read-a-Thon: Mid-point

Hooray! I've finally finished Book 2!

Although I liked The Black Echo by Michael Connelly very much, by page 375, I was getting a little squirrelly. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have happened if I'd read it normally (rather than all in one big stretch). 

I just now read the descriptions of two of the books I checked out (a children's book and a young adult book, each by an author that wrote another book I read and loved) and neither one of them sounds like my cuppa tea, plot-wise. 

So I'm staying in the mystery genre. I think. I'm only on page 3 of my next (possible) pick, so it's still too early to declare a winner in the Book 3 sweepstakes. [This is the part of past Read-a-Thons when I've gotten hyper-finicky about books.]

What else I’ve been doing: went to a local cafe; visited the Read-a-Thon page; visited some blogs; ate dinner while watching a couple of TV shows on Hulu; drank some coffee in the afternoon; ate an apple, a chocolate toffee thing, and some pizza. Oh -- and I had pasta for lunch. I'm a hungry thing. 

Where I’ve been reading: kitchen, reading room, living room, cafe

How long I’ve been reading: 7 hours

How many books I’ve finished reading: 2

  

Chairs I’ve sat in: all 4 kitchen chairs (one of which has a surprisingly pleasant view [I never sit in that chair]), the library table chair, the wingback chair, the west end of the sofa, and both living room chairs  (only 1 chair and 1 end of the sofa remain -- and both have strategically placed reading lamps nearby, so they're perfect for night reading)

Other stuff: Got terribly sleepy during the sofa phase. Also gave myself a weird shoulder cramp from how I was holding the book. This reading is dangerous work. 

Read-a-Thon: Mid-day check-in

All the president's men jump the shark from time to time.

It's Hour 9, and things are good.

First off, Midnight Book Girl is hosting a challenge: Use books you have on hand to form a sentence out of their titles. My contribution appears in that photo there.

After starting the book What It Is Like to Go to War by Karl Marlantes, I stopped reading on page 6. I determined that this was not a book to gulp down during a Read-a-Thon, so I'm saving it for another day soon.

Then I picked up The Black Echo by Michael Connelly, an author I've only been meaning to read for 15 years now. Darn good mystery -- I'm liking it. I'm only halfway through -- it's a 475-page paperback. Big books are a silly choice for a Read-a-Thon, but it's the first Harry Bosch novel, so I'm starting from the very beginning... a very good place to start...

I'll be back with some stats either when I finish The Black Echo or when I decide to take a reading break.

(Chair-sitting update: I've sat in 2 additional chairs since last time. More ahead...
I know: The suspense is killing you.)

Read-a-Thon: 1st book

I've finished reading my first book of the day, and it was a great choice. I'll probably 4-star The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt when I add it to my Shelfari list. And I'll write all about it later. I got stuff to say.

But for now, I'm getting ready to launch into Book 2. I'm not going to announce what it is, because I don't want to hex it. Let's just say, it's one of these. 

Also -- My book line-up today is filled with lots of murder and mayhem. In part, that's by design, because I've included a couple of mystery authors I've been wanting to read for a long time. And I intentionally added some faster-paced stuff to the mix. But man, there's a lot of violent death in my TBR today. That's jolly!

What else I’ve been doing: Visited the Read-a-Thon page; visited a few blogs; ate oatmeal, drank coffee, and then ate some almond cake (true to form, the Read-a-Thon makes me ravenous); put on daytime clothes

Where I’ve been reading: my chair at the kitchen table; rocking chair in the living room (the best room in the house during the morning hours -- and there's bright sunshine today!)  

I think I might try to read from every seat in the house today. Why not?

How long I’ve been reading: 2.75 hours

How many books I’ve finished reading: 1

Book 2, I hope I like you.

Read-a-Thon: I'm awake

Good morning, good people of the Read-a-Thon!

We're a little more than 1 hour in, and I've been reading since 7:30 a.m. (even though the Midwest's start time was 7:00. I am a lazy son-of-a-gun in the morning).

I just popped over to the Read-a-Thon mother ship, and here's the first thing on the to-do list for the day (other than: Read):

1)Where are you reading from today?

my cozy little home in the Midwest

2)Three random facts about me…

1. I like things to be organized. 

2. I'm vaguely pigeon-toed.

3. I like driving fast.

3)How many books do you have in your TBR pile for the next 24 hours?

There are 9 books in my Read-a-Thon pile, and I expect to read 4 of them. I've also got about 15 other TBRs scattered around the place, so if that first group of 9 doesn't trip my trigger, I got back-up. 

4)Do you have any goals for the read-a-thon (i.e. number of books, number of pages, number of hours, or number of comments on blogs)?
I'd like to finish 4 books and read until the 3 a.m. hour. (Usually that's when I start conking out.)

5)If you’re a veteran read-a-thoner, any advice for people doing this for the first time?

If you're not liking any given book, bail out. Eat as needed. Visit other Read-a-Thon-ers' sites and cheer them on. 

My first book of the day is The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt. Ann of Books on the Nightstand raved about it in a recent podcast, and I believe she said she'd been reading the book when Hurricane Irene swept through her area. Her home lost power, so she bought a second copy of the book as an eBook, so she could keep reading it on her iPad. That's a sign of a good book. (Also -- score one point for the back-lit eReaders that allow reading-in-the-dark.)

I'm on page 83 of The Sisters Brothers, and I'm liking it lots. It's got a first-person narrator, and the guys are gruff and brotherly (in the sense that there's always rivalry, and they insult one another at every opportunity. Since they insult with very few words, it's entertaining as all heck).

OK. Back to the book. (I love Read-a-Thon day.)

Just stoic enough

English Creek by Ivan Doig

I’m a total sucker for a first-person narrative told in a really engaging voice. And in this book—the voice is perfection.

For years now—years—I’ve been thinking someday I’d read something by Ivan Doig. 

Why did I wait so long?      (for more about me being a numbskull, here you go)

(photo credit: Library of Congress)

Fourteen-year-old Jick McCaskill narrates this story, and he is a completely likeable young fellow. And the world sometimes mystifies him, the way the world does when a person’s fourteen. His older brother is defying their parents by working at a land baron’s ranch and then getting himself engaged, and that’s stirring things up. Plus Jick is starting to get the sense that his parents are actual people, and that they had lives before he showed up on the scene. And that’s always a revelation.

So there in Montana, in the midst of the Great Depression, Jick is growing up. “Frankly, high among my hopes about the business of growing up was that I would get a considerably more substantial horse out of it.” (pp. 14-15)

But he also finds himself wanting to ask his parents questions—about his brother and the new tension in the family, about how his parents met, about their younger years, about the forest ranger who preceded his father in the job and why he fell from grace—and he hardly knows how to ask.  

As I read, I kept noting pages that contained stuff I really liked. Here are two examples:

“We tell ourselves whatever is needed to go from one scene of life to the next.” (p. 40)   Man, if that ain’t true.

And this scene, in which Jick’s dad is calling the dance at the town fest:

“I stepped away from Ray, soldiered myself in front of my mother, and said:

‘Mrs. McCaskill, I don’t talk through my nose as pretty as the guy you usually gallivant around with. But suppose I could have this dance with you anyway?’

Her face underwent that rinse of surprise that my father sometimes showed about her. She cast a look toward the top of my head as if just realizing my height. Then came her sidelong smile, and her announcement:

‘I never could resist you McCaskill galoots.’”  (pp. 204-205)

How can you not like that boy and his family?

Jick’s narrative voice is so lovely, and the voices of the other characters are just plain interesting, too.

When I read the final section of the reader’s guide in the book, I found out part of the reason why: Doig says that he found it easy to write in Jick’s voice, and he mentions that he had decades’ worth of file cards of phrasing and dialogue. In the Acknowledgments, he writes, “Thus it is very nearly forty years now that I have been listening to Montanans.” (p. 337)

And guys, he listened well. And by writing well, he lets us listen to their voices, too. The results are splendid.

So *much* not-my-thing

Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian

I honestly don’t recall the last time a book made me this darn annoyed. (Every time I looked at it, I was tempted to snarl. Eventually, I gave in; this was not pretty.) 

I was railing so much about having to read it that finally someone said that maybe I could find a summary online and just stop reading it. I tell you, I was sorely tempted.

The only reason I persevered (sort of) was that this book was assigned for a genre study. And I agree that it’s the right book to represent this military/adventure subgenre of historical fiction.

But damn, I hated it.

(hated it, hated it, hated it!!)

And I’m telling you, I’m just plain flummoxed. I have talked with readers over the years who positively love this book and this series. For Pete’s sake, Keith Richards loves this series!

I could barely even read it.

I shall now open the book to a random page and type the first two sentences upon which my eyes land:

“Merriment, roaring high spirits before this: then some chance concatenation, or some hidden predilection (or rather inherent bias) working through, and the main is in the road he cannot leave but must go on, making it deeper and deeper (a groove, or channel), until he is lost in his mere character—persona—no longer human, but an accretion of qualities belonging to this character. James Dillon was a delightful being.” (p. 181)

See?! This is what I’m talking about!

(There are those out there who survived two separate episodes of “I’m now going to open this book to a random page and read aloud…”)

I tried to skim it, and it’s impossible to skim. But it’s also impossible to read. (See two-sentence excerpt above.)

In this book, I think there were some battles. And for some reason, at the end, Jack Aubrey appears to be getting court-martialed, and I have no earthly idea why. (I know why I don’t know why: because I was skimming the unskimmable!)

Patrick O’Brian, we are not going to be spending any more time together. 

Goodbye, Aubrey and Maturin. Go and do your thing.

I’m going to go and do mine. (Probably it will involve reading something plain, stark, and pure. I’m sorely in need of an antidote.)

Read-a-Thon: The countdown

It's less than a week till the Read-a-Thon, so the stockpiling has begun!

It hit me that I really should take a picture of the stash thus far. It hit me while I was cleaning the house, which is no surprise. I mean, why dust when you can be piling up books and photographing them?

Though the dusting was actually bookish, too. I'm hosting the book club this week, and while the ladies (being in the inner circle and all) have seen this house in a state of disaster, it seems polite to at least whip a dust rag around the rooms before book club night.

So yeah, it's gonna be a good week ahead: book club night, then Read-a-Thon day. Things are good around here.

Glamour

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

OK, I admit it: It was the gorgeous cover that made me need to read this book. Plus, it was getting splashed all over EarlyWord as one of the hot books of the fall. But guys, I started reading it in my pjs one morning, and I’m not going to tell you what time I put on daytime clothes. I’m just not telling.

This is one of those glorious lost-love books, and I love lost-love books. And also, it’s a New York City book, and I love those, too. Plus, it’s one of those blast-from-the-past books (also something I love), in which the narrator starts out in the now (1966 in this instance) and then reflects back on then (1937 and 1938, the heyday of her youth). And there are love triangles, and there is grand ambition and social climbing and the loss of innocence, and all I can say is Wow.

The narrator, Katey Kontent, is a young woman of meager means who gets a job in the city and falls in with a stylish crowd. And we know that in 1966 she’s married and seems to be having a very fine life, but back in the ’30s… she’s falling in love, and then getting her heart broken, and you really don’t know if things are going to go well for her.

This book begs to have its plot told, but I’m not gonna do it because sometimes that just ruins everything. So that’s all I’m gonna say.

Except…

Here’s what I found out, after finishing the book: The author is a man! (All along, I’d been thinking, "Maybe I’ll look at the author photo…"   But I don’t always do that, and then it turns out this one’s male.) It surprised me at first, because the narrator is female, but then I realized that I could believe it. Maybe because of the Fitzgerald-esque feel of the book… I really can’t lay a finger on it.

In addition to a fantastic plot, the writing is stylish. Here's a nice passage that gives a sense:

"Bitsy looked impressed.

—I’ve never been in a car wreck.

Though from the way she said it, you got the sense she had been in other kinds of wrecks—like in an airplane or motorcycle or submarine." (p. 183)

OK. So I’m strongly recommending this book. I 5-starred it on Shelfari and everything. If it sounds at all like your kind of thing, place a hold at the library and then wait for the lovely day when it arrives especially for you.

Just for us

The Pleasures of Reading in an Age of Distraction by Alan Jacobs

This is a wee, jolly book, my reading friends. It’s 150 pages of Our Kind of Talk.

Yes, it’s a book about the joys of reading.

And the author is a thoroughly amiable fellow. Here’s what he says: “Read at Whim.”

Yes, really! And he’s even an English professor, saying this!

Basically, he’s giving us permission to read what we want to read. We can—yes, we can—ignore those odious lists of Best Books. Unless we happen to want to read some of the books on those lists. Otherwise, it’s OK to read what we love. Because reading books just to check them off a list, that isn’t really reading for the very best reason.

This is so much my belief. It was pure pleasure to read it so beautifully argued.

Here’s one of my favorite sentences of the book. He’s describing his junior year in high school. “At that age I would have been an absolute sucker for any authoritative register of Books One Must Read, and I thank God that I never came across any of them.” (p. 131)

(I myself got hold of such a list in college, and it took a library school class on popular fiction to set me free.)

Jacobs also addresses the difficulties of our wired age. He brings in Nicholas Carr’s ideas from The Shallows to describe how tempting our electronic devices can be, even to those of us who know the delight of being fully absorbed in a book.

Here’s Jacobs: “To be lost in a book is genuinely addictive: someone who has had it a few times wants it again, and wants it enough, perhaps, to beg a friend to hide the damned BlackBerry for a couple of hours, please.” (p. 88)

There are too many delightful sentences here for me to include, but here’s what my favorite sections are about: the importance of allowing ourselves to re-read books when we want to (yeehaw!) and the importance of serendipity in our reading lives. Pretty much what I was railing about a short while ago.

We need those things, and we know we need those things, and we need to make sure we get those things.

A lovely little book. Lovely.

Definitely the Right Stuff

Amidst the book geek's ravings, this post also includes 3 quizzes. Here's the first...

Quiz 1: Name these Mercury 7 astronauts.*

(photo credit: NASA)

Recently I spent a weekend re-reading Tom Wolfe's book The Right Stuff, forsaking all other books.

It was one of the best reading experiences of my adult life.

’Twas my second time reading The Right Stuff, and I think it was even better this time around. Last time I read it, it launched me (ha! space pun!) on a space reading kick that’s lasted ever since. But when I first read it, back in 2007, I didn’t know much about most of the people in the book. Pete Conrad, Gus Grissom… who were they?

Well, now I’ve read about those fellows, and I’ve read John Glenn’s autobiography (and I just bought a copy of Chuck Yeager’s, but I haven’t cracked it yet—thus bolstering one of Wolfe’s points about the astronauts getting all the glory while the other pilots were treated more or less like chopped liver) and lots of other space books.

But this one… this one is the Thing.

The first time I read it, and the second time I read it, this book had me at page 11. Here’s the sentence that just killed me: “And the bridge coats came out and they sang about those in peril in the air and the bridge coats were put away, and the little Indians remarked that the departed was a swell guy and a brilliant student of flying; a little too much of a student, in fact; he hadn’t bothered to look out the window at the real world soon enough.” (p. 11)

It’s the third time the bridge coats are evoked, and those fine bridge coats mean death. They’re funeral clothes, and the image of those young pilots hauling out their best uniform coats and then storing them again, then pulling them out again… it gets a person, you know?

Wolfe is a gorgeous stylist—an utter genius at putting together a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter. This book is a masterpiece.

And the thing is, it’s so darn readable!

Often, when people speak of a writer’s gorgeous writing, it seems they’re talking about writing that is all lush and overblown and complicated and hard to read. This book is not like that. It’s easy to read, it’s a pleasure to read, and it just flows. But it’s not at all simple…

While the writing is stunning, the thing about this book that makes me love it is the sense of heroism. And the way the actual pilots and astronauts were horrified by such a word.

For example: After Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier, journalists descended upon Muroc Field. “The real problem was that reporters violated the invisible walls of the fraternity. They blurted out questions and spoke boorish words about… all the unspoken things!—about fear and bravery (they would say the words!) and how you felt at such-and-such a moment! It was obscene!” (p. 47)

I love and adore this.

Quiz 2: Who is in the cockpit of the P-51 Mustang in the picture on the left? Hint: He's the guy wearing the tan shirt and white cap in the picture on the right.**

(photo credit: My dad, who took the pictures because he's hella tall. But I was there, too, back in 1992, and saw, with my very own eyes, Chuck Yeager flying an airplane and then riding down the flight line in a convertible!! I know: Lucky, right?)

(Oops. Just gave away the answer to Quiz 2 in its photo credit)

So we'll try another one...

Quiz 3: The Mercury 7 again! Name 'em!***

(photo credit: NASA)

And now, just because he makes my heart throb:

Gratuitous photo of John Glenn, after being picked up by the USS Noa after splashdown in Friendship 7

(photo credit: NASA)

Wolfe also describes the way grown men—hardened men: police officers along the parade route—would weep upon seeing John Glenn after his successful Earth orbit. Wolfe (correctly, I think) chalks it up to the notion of the single combat warrior: the designation of a single man to represent his tribe in a fight to the death against a single warrior from another tribe. We simple beings tend to get overwhelmed by such things.

And I get it. I still get choked up every single time I hear Scott Carpenter say, “Godspeed, John Glenn,” as the countdown begins. (I actually can’t even think of those words without my face crumpling up.)

The only other things that can create the same feeling of ecstasy are visiting the National Air & Space Museum (where I have been known to do the following: a) stand with my mouth hanging open in sheer awe; b) blink rapidly and look at the floor in order to avoid embarrassing crying-for-joy episodes; and c) smile so broadly my face nearly cracks) and the spectacular documentary In the Shadow of the Moon (to which I am fully addicted. I’ve watched it at least 1o times, and I’ve only just begun.)

So, here it is. A book with that kind of power, it’s going on my Top 10 list. And now I own a copy, so I can rest easy, knowing it’s under my roof and available to re-read at a moment’s notice.

And in these ways, I know life is good. 

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* Quiz 1 answers—Back row, l-r: Alan Shepard, Gus Grissom, Gordon Cooper; Front row, l-r: Wally Schirra, Deke Slayton, John Glenn, Scott Carpenter

** Quiz 2 answer—Just in case you missed the way I spoiled the quiz by answering it in the photo credit note, that dude is Chuck Yeager himself!

*** Quiz 3 answers—l-r: Scott Carpenter, Gordon Cooper, John Glenn, Gus Grissom, Wally Schirra, Alan Shepard, Deke Slayton

If you named ’em all, you have earned serious bragging rights. Truly. Also: Welcome to my club; you're now a certified space geek.

I know authors.

So, as I mentioned, at Casa Unruly, I'm tearing through seasons of The Wire like it's assigned viewing and the test is approaching fast (except that I'm enjoying the hell out of it, which usually doesn't exactly happen with assigned/tested stuff).

And twice now, the librarian in the room has hollered out the name of an author who's appeared on the screen.

(It goes like this: Suddenly sits up straight. Hollers: "That's Dennis Lehane!")

Yes, one time, it was really Dennis Lehane! Seeing him on the screen, in a bit part as a police officer in season 3, I became nearly as unhinged as the time I saw him in real life. (I had to watch it a couple of times while doing some gazing-in-delight at the fella.)

And then, at the beginning of season 5, Laura Lippman showed up.

I know someone who claims to have a knack for spotting librarians from 50 yards away.

But I... I can spot authors. Even when they're mixed in with actors, I can spot 'em. Man, it makes me feel librarian-ish. In the best possible way.

Serendipitous discovery

Corn Flakes with John Lennon: And Other Tales from a Rock ’n’ Roll Life by Robert Hilburn

Bono introduces this book, and I’ve fallen in love with him because of the way he writes. My land, what a gorgeous introduction. And the thing is, Bono’s intro makes you crave hearing about Hilburn-the-elusive-journalist’s story just as much as hearing Bono’s, Lennon’s, Dylan’s, Cash’s…

And then Hilburn’s voice starts, and man. How did I almost never read this book?!

I only checked it out from the library because I ran across a copy while browsing books at a secondhand record store I visited only because a visiting-from-out-of-town friend likes secondhand record stores. Which makes me wonder how many other great things I am—right this very second—missing out on, because some random turn of events has not yet led me to them.

Hilburn was a music critic at the Los Angeles Times, and over the years he got to talk to darn near everyone significant in rock. And it seems he had a skill at developing a rapport with most of them, because the interviews often turned into real conversations.

So, as the title suggests, Hilburn has eaten Corn Flakes with John Lennon, and he’s also caught him sneaking bites of a candy bar when Yoko wasn’t looking. (Lennon was supposed to be on this uber-healthful diet.) And Bob Dylan played part of Hilburn’s recommended set list at a concert in Israel. This book is filled with good stuff like that.

He’s interviewed Bruce Springsteen, Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, and oodles of other big names over the years.

Great writing and an interesting personal narrative, interwoven with stories about rock stars. Fabulous.

3rd Quarter Challenge Update

Yeah, it’s crunch time in the reading challenge world. The final 3 months of the year approach, and we darn well better be wrapping up the challenge reading.

Here’s where I am:

Challenges still underway:

Reading Madly—6/7. I’m gonna be fine here, especially since I picked a book club book for October that has some sort of Mad Men connection.

U.S. Presidents Reading Project—OK, either I suck it up and read a biography of Grover Cleveland yet this year, or I just pretend to be satisfied that I’m still at 22/44. For nearly a year now, that’s been the number. Goal for year-end: Bring that number up to 23. (Pitiful.)

100+ Reading Challenge—90/100. Feeling good.

eBook Challenge—6/12. Not gonna make it. Nook Color, I have forsaken you. I’ve neglected your eReaderliness and used you as a quasi-tablet/smartphone substitution so’s I can read the interwebs from my purse. There’s the horrible truth, and I am sore ashamed.

Whisper Stories in My Ear—11/12. Almost there! (I’ve listened to more than 12 audiobooks, but I don’t feel like writing about all of them. And this challenge requires reviews.)

Library Challenge—84/100. No problem.

Completed Challenges

Thank you. Thank you...  [curtsies]

Nonfiction Challenge

Historical Fiction Challenge

Pub Challenge

I Want More Challenge

3Rs Challenge

So my own true challenge is clear: Read some doggone eBooks about Presidents. I'm off to seek out this exact thing...