The nerdiest injury of all time? Discuss.

Since Elizabeth bravely shared her traumatic Port-a-Potty experience at Sasquatch, I thought that it was only fair that I dish on my own most embarrassing moment of the past six months.

So I had been hearing good things about A Song of Fire and Ice by George R.R. Martin for AGES. I bought A Game of Thrones about three years ago on the strength of several trusted book friend recommendations, but I just couldn't make it past the first fifty pages. First of all, there's the author's name. Seriously - he just HAD to go by both Rs?  Couldn't he just use one?  I mean how obvious of a Tolkien imitator was this dude? My BS meter was not pleased.

And then there was the book itself. It started out all right, but I kept getting caught up by the (SPOILER ALERT) incest in the first 50 pages. EWWWW. I mean really. So I stared and stopped it about three times and then mentally consigned it to the permanent "will never finish" pile, along with War and Peace and Pillars of the Earth.

But then the HBO series came out and people kept raving about it and I got curious. I should note that I am constitutionally incapable of watching something based on a book without reading the book first. And I really wanted to watch that damn show. So I picked up A Game of Thrones determined to do better this time. And I found that once I got past the first fifty page, I was hooked. 

Martin is a fabulous storyteller - able look at every situation from multiple points of view; to keep his characters consistent enough to be believable, yet changeable enough to be fascinating; and to weave a plot of ever-increasing complexity without ever losing me as a reader.

And that's where we run into problems. I made my way through the first and second books at a relatively brisk pace, but when I got to the third (my personal favorite) I was a little obsessed.  I had just started it and happened to have an entirely free rainy Saturday, so I huddled up in bed to do some serious reading.  And I didn't stop until I finished eight hours later. Which was great until I got up and realized that walking was a bit of a challenge because I'd strained my back rather painfully. Due to reading a Tolkien knockoff for eight hours straight in bed. What's worse is that it took me about five days to fully recover and I did not think of a suitable cover story quickly enough. Ahem, so that's the nerdiest injury I've ever sustained and one of the nerdiest I can imagine happening.

Elizabeth is all heart and told me that getting injured in a Ren Faire joust would be worse.  I think she's right.

Anyhow, that was a long way of saying, the hype is right. You should totally read A Song of Fire and Ice so you can join me in waiting impatiently for the next installment and praying fervently for the continued health of Mr. Martin. Even if I do still think the extra R is bunk. 

Code Name: Verity

Hola Blog Friends! My apologies for the long blog silence and happy belated birthday to Bookmate Elizabeth. Her existence proves that, like fine wine, some things just get better with age. (I am older than her and have, to my horror, not found the same to hold true about myself.)

However, I did not emerge from my Sith cave of silence just to say hello. I was compelled to return because I have just read the best YA book of the year. I know it's only June, but I honestly can't imagine anything matching the fantastic and devastating splendor of Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein. It's up there with Jellicoe Road, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, and Graceling as one of my favorite books of all time. And it's a heartbreaker.

Verity is set during World War II. Our narrator, whose name is one of the book's many mysteries, has been captured in Nazi-occupied France. She's being interrogated, painfully. And she's talking. Or at least writing. Her captors have provided pen and paper for her to provide all the details she can on war-torn Britain. Verity chooses to do so by telling the story of her friendship with pilot Maddie Brodatt.

Maddie and Verity are unlikely friends, their upbringings on the opposite scales of the British class system. But they meet under duress and the upheaval of the war allows them to see the kindred spirit in each other. The war also disrupts the firm lines keeping women in traditional roles and they both pursue callings that in different times would have been impossible - Maddie as a pilot and Verity first as a wireless officer and then with the Special Operations Executive. 

Verity's narrative, despite its stark beginning where she castigates herself as a coward for breaking under torture, draws you in. It's easy to forget during the long stretches set in Britain that, like Scheherazade, she's spinning these tales to keep herself alive at least for a few more days. Her wit, bravery, and joie de vivre, except when she's thinking about the information she's given up during torture and what it means to the war effort, make reading about her and Maddie's adventures together a pleasure. And her gallows humor, constitutional inability to avoid needling her captors, and quick wits make anything seem possible.

Writing anything more about the twist and turns of Code Name Verity seems unfair to readers, as discovering it for the first time is one of those reading experiences that don't come along often. I'd recommend giving yourself a long stretch of time to read it in one go and to prepare yourself for emotional devastation. Each of the characters, even the villains, are so well-drawn and human that when the fortunes of war visit them, you feel each loss like a physical blow. Despite the novel's narrow focus on a few characters in a small area of a huge canvas, it humanizes the horror of war with a visceral fierceness that leaves you completely wrung out.

I know that's on the face of things, that's not not the most appealing of recommendations. But a book that conveys such emotional impact in so few pages is one that I will press upon passersby until I'm blue in the face. Consider yourselves warned.

Nonfiction! (Kind of.)

Hola, BookMates fans. Or, you know, person who happened to stumble across our site. (If you stumbled across our site, Kerry and I are AWESOME. You should immediately bookmark us.)

So, lately I've been reading (gasp!) nonfiction. Kind of. Really I'm reading comedian and blogger memoirs, which I feel is equivalent to dipping your big toe in the ocean of nonfiction. I'm not against nonfiction, I just generally don't find it as entertaining as fiction.

I just picked up Jenny Lawson's (aka, The Bloggess) memoir, Let's Pretend this Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir. The reason I picked up Jenny's memoir was because the title resonated with me. There are so many moments in my life (avoidable moments generally caused by me) which I would like to pretend have not happened. For example, I recently went on a date and somehow ended up explaining to my date why I hate music festivals. "Music festivals", you ask? "What could be so bad about a music festival?" (Actually, if you ask this question you've probably never been to a music festival.) Anyway, the reason I hate music festivals stems from my experience at Sasquatch years ago, during which I got stuck in a Port-a-Potty (horror of horrors) for what seemed like five hours but was really probably five minutes until this burly frat boy broke open the Port-a-Potty door, not because he was trying to help me escape but because he was angry that I was taking so long. Soon afterward I lost one of my favorite flip flops in the ten inches of mud covering Sasquatch and was forced to wander around the Gorge with one flip flop, traumatized from the Port-a-Potty experience, fending off a group of dudes who asked me if I wanted to "drink with them in their van" (answer: hell, no) until I found my campsite.

I really wish I could pretend telling that story on a date had never happened.

Now you all know that story! Telling it on our blog seems to make it seem less embarrassing (right?). I also just realized I am poorly imitating Jenny Lawson's mode of writing, but obviously I am not a good writer and she is hysterical and a fantastic writer. Read her memoir. And her blog.

I finally got my grubby little paws on Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns). I have a huge crush on Mindy Kaling. I want to be her bff. Not only is she intelligent and humorous, she also just seems like an awesome person who would totally be down with hanging out in yoga pants, watching bad movies, and eating froyo directly out of the container while listening to Flo Rida (my new workout music love).

I just started her memoir, but so far it's all that I expected it to be: warm, hilarious, and peppered with adorable photos of Mindy as child. Purchase this (or wait for it in the absurdly long library queue, like I did), ASAP. Enjoy!

Stewart O'Nan

My long blogging hiatus is over! I have been consumed with everyday activities (work, exercise, doctor's appointments, etc.) and, somewhat appropriately, I have been reading Stewart O'Nan's newest work: Emily, Alone.

O'Nan writes beautifully about the minutiae of everyday life. He manages to make the ordinary fascinating and all of life worth concentrated attention.

The titular character of Emily, Alone is an aging widow accompanied by her dog, Rufus, and her sister-in-law, Arlene. I think many readers might be tempted into immediate pity and concern for Emily, but she herself rarely descends into self-pity. Instead, Emily enjoys the small pleasures of life and contemplates the process of aging and memory. I found myself also taking pleasure in Emily's pleasures: a comfortable routine, a daring walk in the snow, learning to drive again.

While nothing much happens in Emily, Alone, Emily's joy in her small adventures is both heartwarming and satisfying.

If you haven't already read Stewart O'Nan, definitely do so. You won't be disappointed.

Other O'Nan favorites:

Last Night at the Lobster

Wish You Were Here
(The precursor to Emily, Alone. These books can be read independently.)

Stalkers Beware...

I've been meaning to write about Deb Caletti's Stay for several months. And the issue is becoming pressing, as my library copy is EXTREMELY overdue AGAIN. As in I checked it out, read it, loved it, meant to post on it, and then had return it and check it out again. True confessions time - together Elizabeth and I are singlehandedly funding a librarian position at the amazing Seattle Public Library due to our extraordinary ability to rack up overdue fines. At least it all goes to a good cause!

Anyhow, Stay. Guys, it was great. For two reasons:

1) It was set in the Pacific Northwest and it actually felt like it was set in the Northwest. I checked the cover flap and Deb Caletti apparently lives in Seattle. Well you can totally tell, as she gives such awesome local landmark namechecks. From El Corazon to the Deception Pass bridge, she does a wonderful job of weaving the setting into the book. And more than just name checks - she describes the varying parts of Washington state well and evocatively, from Seattle to the Skagit Valley to the Olympic Peninsula where Clara and her father retreat for a summer.

2) And while I put this second, it's actually my number one reason for loving this book. In Stay, Deb Caletti destroys the extremely disturbing trend in YA fiction (represented most prominently by our most favorite of books, Twilight) of making stalkers seem like good boyfriend material. However, I am getting ahead of myself.

Stay operates on two timelines. In one our heroine, Clara, is spending the summer with her father on the Olympic Peninsula, away from their Seattle home. Her father, a well-known mystery writer, is using the time to finish his latest book, but they're primarily away because of the second, earlier storyline, in which Clara meets Christian. Christian who seems like the perfect boy when she meets him at a high school basketball game - good-looking, foreign, and, most of all, super into her.

Caletti does an excellent job of spinning out their story, told by Clara's future voice, so that you understand how she got caught up in the heady rush of their relationship. But as she details the pretty charming beginning, Clara also points out signs that she herself missed, signs that indicate that their relationship is headed for deeper water. I don't want to spoil how the story unfolds, but I will say as the narrative progresses it becomes truly creepy. And not in a paranormal sort of way, but in 'wow, that could happen to someone I know' sort of way.

Anyhow, I'd highly recommend Stay for anyone who loves a good Northwest setting, found Edward to be a bit of a creepster in Twilight, and, most of all, for anyone who DIDN'T find Edward a creepster in Twilight.

In defense of the unlikable heroine: The Splendor Falls

So here’s something I’ve been thinking about recently. Has there been a move in YA towards more likable heroines? From Sarah Dessen to Meg Cabot, heroines in YA fiction seem to be trending….nice.

And while I enjoy reading about characters I identify with (and anyone you talk to, after I’ve paid them $5, will be happy to tell you how nice I am), it’s also a refreshing change to read about someone who isn’t quite so kind. And I’m not talking about Bella Swan, who, while not malicious, isn’t actually very nice at all to her poor parents or “friends”. I’m talking about someone who is thinking about her actions outside of how they relate to her sparkly boyfriend.

That’s why Rosemary Clement-Moore’s The Splendor Falls comes as such a breath of fresh air. Her heroine, fallen ballerina Sylvie Davis, is an unapologetic bitch on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her narration is pungent and her observations are frequently spiteful. Sylvie has good reason for being so cranky – her promising ballet career come to a crashing halt with a freak accident and she’s been shipped off by her emotionally unavailable mother to the deep South.

And true to her irritable introduction, Sylvie doesn’t make an effort to think the best of everyone. Her natural reaction to everyone is basically derision and dislike. She's antagonistic towards basically everyone she meets. And she’s a realistic ballerina – she’s grossed out by butter and pats the grease off the pizza she forces herself to eat. Certainly not healthy, but on the mark. I know I'm not making her sound like a whole lot of fun, but she was, and in addition, she felt authentic - like a full fledged character, not a stand in for the reader.

While its heroine is unique, the plot of The Splendor Falls is pretty much straight up Southern Gothic Paranormal (if such a thing exists): mysterious happenings in night cause the heroine to start asking questions and stirring up trouble, bad things happen and she has to decide who to trust. Several other reviews have mentions that it reads like a contemporary Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels. As I am a huge fan of Elizabeth Peters’s seventies-tastic mysteries (seriously try them, they're a delight), this only improved my opinion of The Splendor Falls.

While the plot is nothing groundbreaking, the characters - from Sylvie's Aunt Paula to the Teen Town Council are entertaining. And, in proper Southern Gothic form, the atmosphere is excellent. So if you're in the mood to try a some YA with a bit of bite (um let me be clear that the paranormal happenings are NOT vampiric thank goodness), I'd recommend The Splendor Falls.

_____________________________

If you like The Splendor Falls try:
Texas Gothic. Clement-Moore's second book features the practical and reality-based Amy Goodnight, who finds herself put upon by mysterious happenings and the eccentricities of her extended family. I actually liked Texas Gothic as a whole more than The Splendor Falls, but while the extended cast of characters is more interesting, the heroine isn't as unique, as Amy is pretty darn, wait for it, nice.



Make sure to avoid:
Beautiful Creatures. The plot of Beautiful Creatures makes it sound like classic Southern Gothic with a twist: a male protagonist infatuated with the mysterious new girl in town. Sadly nothing else about this VERY long and pedestrian novel stands out - the characters are cookie cutter and the plot feels drenched in tar it move so slow. Neither Elizabeth or I managed to make it to the end, but I can't say that either of us cared.

We promise Bookmates will be revived!

Life has just been pretty crazy lately and we (mainly me!) have neglected Bookmates. But I promise to post again soon. In the meantime, here is a quick mini-post.

I've gotten back into my eclectic reading schedule lately. Here's a sample of my latest reads:

The Passage by Justin Cronin
This book is long. Really, really long. I'm on page 640ish right now and I think I have about 150 pages left. Anyhow, worth the read but I think it may have needed a harsher editor. Also: freaky viral vampires.

The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman
I think every one's reading this book right now, and there's a reason why: it's excellent. It's rare that interconnecting stories entertain me, but I was glued to this book throughout the night. Highly recommended.

BUST
Yes, this is not a book. But! I love BUST. It's my feel-good magazine. It's like etsy combined with Jezebel combined with Highlights for adults. Yay!

xoxo