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Somehow I did it! After reading 40 books a year, I managed to up my reading list to 50 for 2012. 40 of them were my semester reading for grad school, but I’m happy that I managed to squeeze in an extra 10 books for fun. Or half of one. I kind of cheated with my 50th book since I started it on the 31st and finished it yesterday morning. Whatever. LEAVE ME ALONE.
Fab.com sold fancy editions of classic books today, accompanied with the above quote. I know I am a bit of a book snob (as well as a handbag snob) but reading this made me feel sad. Also, way to tell the whole world that a) you didn’t pay attention in class and b) that you’re a cheater. Like, you know?
I can’t believe we’re wrapping up 2011. It’s been an eventful year but just because stuff happened doesn’t mean I dropped the ball when it came to my annual reading goal. This year, though, I was [un]lucky to have my first semester reading list, which meant taking on 20 “serious” books for writing, which meant almost a book a week between June through November, which meant that the quality of books I read went way up and that I’m surprised my eyesight hasn’t gotten bad from all the page turning.
Somehow I managed to still read 40 books (and hopefully one more: Cold Comfort Farm which I’m reading right now) over the past year. I’m proud because I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it and that I’d have to disembowel myself for dishonoring the family. Or something like that.
This is what it’s like when I try to read a book at home. Someone won’t leave me alone.
There’s only one reason why my afternoon would turn into a hot mess of geeky convention goers and Flannery O’Connor, and that’s the downtime between covering panels at San Diego Comic-Con. (Duh, couldn’t you have figured out?)
For the first time (EVER!!), I’m actually in San Diego for Comic-Con. Several years ago, being in San Diego for SDCC was pure coincidence with horrible results (traffic is so awful here, I don’t even know why San Diego-ites leave the house during this week) and for the past couple, I’ve been enjoying all the things that come out of the Convention Center via television and long hours in my cubicle. This time, I was given the opportunity to come in person and yeah…it’s been quite an experience.
This is why I hate the world. That out of the thousands of classic, groundbreaking and breathtaking literature out there, at least 6,802 idiots still think that Twilight is the best book ever. Not only that, but Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (yes, I agree, this is a very entertaining book and probably the best out of the entire series) is a close second and that these two fantasy worlds make the top 5 “best books ever” list on GoodReads.
This is why I hate people, because we place more value on horrible writing, sparkling vampires and slow moving plots than anything else.
This is why I am always in a bad mood.
This is why sometimes I think the universe is just one big joke.
This is why we can’t have nice things.
This is why I’m going to go hide in a cave now.
And yes, this is why I think I’m better than you.
At first, it was indiscernible. A soft roll of breath, like a collective sigh that would let itself go around me. An invisible, low groan by an invisible flock of pigeons. By the third, fourth and fifteenth time, I figured out what this was: the odd sound that people are compelled to do after poetry is read.
Listen, I love Harry Potter and all but adding a time travel element to your universe about halfway through the book is kind of dumb. I’ve been questioning the logic behind this since…well…you first introduced Hermione’s time-turner necklace. So??
I feel like it’s been quiet around here when I realize it’s quite the opposite. Despite the long weekend, every day was filled with at least something for hours at a time, whether it was brainstorming (aka eating Chinese food and cookies) with my 8Asians buddies or playing badminton or sweeping the endless amount of leaves and twigs that fall from our enormous tree in the backyard.
I’ve been spending most of my free time recently trying to finish up Jonathan Franzen’s book, Freedom. I wasn’t a huge fan of The Corrections but I’m realizing now that I didn’t like the book for the right reasons. Franzen’s ability to seamlessly slip you into the emotional fractures of a family’s world is almost addicting. Even though the situations and settings are quite different, Freedom reminds me a lot of his first book, which made me feel upset and anxious over how the family basically unraveled over a serious of events. Nothing drastic, crazy or out-of-this-world happened to the Lamberts, only life.
The same thing happens in Freedom, where the characters are directed by their own neuroses, passions, insecurities, regrets, and competitiveness. They get old and make mistakes. They become happy and make mistakes. They look back at their lives and keep making more mistakes. Franzen makes it all sound so simple and close to home, but I can’t help feeling like it’s something that could happen to me one day. I’m not saying it will, but it’s the realism of their lives that makes me realize how even the most mundane of worlds can fall apart.
I’m almost done but I’m already over the bouts of anxiety that come over me after I finish each chapter. I literally go to bed worrying about the state of my marriage, whether or not we’ll have a good relationship with our future children, if we’ll all get along, if we’ll be happy, if we’re going to stay in Los Angeles, if we’ll be healthy and so forth–even though absolutely nothing has happened in reality to give me these thoughts. This was exactly why I didn’t like Franzen so much before but now I realize that’s the genius of his writing: he has such a simple way with words that can jar your core emotions. Worry and anxiety is all around us, but it really takes talent to take to touch those basic feelings through several hundred pages.
BLAH.
A couple of years ago, I decided to take on a personal challenge of reading at least 50 books a year. The first time, it turned out to be easy because I don’t know, maybe I was bored or something. Last year, I only made it to 25 but that’s because I don’t know, I was busy. This year, I failed again because I don’t know, I was too busy thinking about not eating donuts. That being said, I just started my 40th book (One Day by David Nicholls lent to me by the coolest sister in law ever) and I might just stop there, unless I somehow lug around 10 books during the holiday sin the next week or so. Do you think I can do it? IS THIS ANOTHER CHALLENGE?!? Okay.
In case anyone cares (and I know the answer is no), here’s what I read in 2010:
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