Friday Night Book Club

You should never read the ending of a book in the morning (kind of how you should never go to bed mad, or put sugar in herbal tea) – because what if someone comes to your door, and there you are sobbing.

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And if you’re not teary, you at least need some time to sit with it a while, linger a little, say good-bye to the characters you’ve met along the way. You need time to return to reality.

Fortunately, no one rang my doorbell when I finished reading A Man Called Ove this morning.

I didn’t expect to have so many emotions while reading this book. I didn’t expect to break out laughing. (Though I adore humor – who doesn’t? –  I’m a tough nut to crack when it comes to eliciting an actual “hahahahaha!” from books or movies.) And I didn’t expect to cry. I thought it might be filled with quirky people I didn’t particularly like. Turns out, it was filled with quirky people I did like. I also liked the writer’s often tongue-in-cheek writing style – another happy surprise, and not something everyone can pull off, but something Fredrik Backman did spectacularly well. And in the end, I had to accept the fact that this book touched me deeply. For whatever reason. I loved it. And I think most people will find that they, too, will laugh and cry and feel.

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For you book lovers out there who might like to read along virtually, my friends and I gather on the first Friday of each month. Some other Book Club books we’ve read since my last Friday Night Book Club posting (which, I confess, has been quite a while) are – in order of preference, my favorites first: The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah, Before the Fall by Noah Hawley, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sender, The Marriage of Opposites by Alice Hoffman, Circling the Sun by Paula McClain, The Samurai’s Garden by Gail Tsukiyama, Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf.

I’m also reading Diana Gabaldon’s entire Outlander Series outside of Book Club, because I’m obsessed with them. Currently on book five, The Fiery Cross. And I have a long list of books on my GoodReads author page if anyone wants to connect over there.

Peace, love, happy reading.

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Friday Night Book Club: Devouring Words

A more delicious work of writing in recent months, I have not read. Anthony Doerr’s latest novel is a shining star.

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from “All the Light We Cannot See”, a stunning novel about a blind French girl and a German boy whose paths collide in occupied France as both try to survive the devastation of World War II.

We’ve read quite a few books since I last wrote about our Friday Night Book Club ~ many of them noteworthy ~ but All The Light We Cannot See was, to me, the most notably delicious. It’s storytelling at its best, woven with a scrumptious use of language. Doerr marries prose with bold emotion and stark realism, the offspring being sentence after readable, captivating sentence.

And yes, the characters! Always the characters – you have to “care” about them, and we do.

This novel passes my “what makes a book really worthwhile” test with flying colors: It’s got to be purely great storytelling. That means brilliant writing. Personable, intriguing characters. Interesting plots, invisibly rich details. You’re immersed. You’re engaged. You care.

I’ll also add that I like to feel I’m learning something. And here, in All the Light We Cannot See, I learned about a different side of World War II (a subject I seem to be perennially fascinated by), primarily taking place in France and seen through the eyes of two intriguing children. But learning alone is not enough. I wanna be grabbed by the belt, taken on a voyage, filled with wonder. All The Light We Cannot See does all that. It’s one of those books that makes your life feel richer for having read it.

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For you book lovers out there, we gather on the first Friday of each month, if you want to read along virtually. Other Book Club Books read since my last Friday Night Book Club posting are The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert (loved), The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh (loved), The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd (really loved), and Raven Black by Ann Cleeves (liked).

I also have a really long list of books on my GoodReads author page if anyone wants to connect over there.

Peace, love, happy reading.

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Book Cover Candy

I’m reading. Not a surprise, I realize, but isn’t that what holiday weekends were made for? Reading, writing, making some art, getting one’s hands full of garden earth, visits with family or friends. Point is: not working. Connecting with that sometimes elusive concept called relaxation.

So while the sun is trying its best to make a solid show and my daughter has gone off socializing, I’ve got a good book, a cup of tea, a pile of new dirt and plants ready for planting. (And yes, hot fudge on the stove for later.)

It’s a really good book so far ~ Sue Monk Kidd’s The Invention of Wings. Again, this isn’t particularly surprising, but what did strike me was the uninteresting cover. The “ordinary-ness” of it.  It feels very safe, very stock-photography-esque. It’s pleasing enough, but nothing that would have grabbed me had I not already been interested in the author.

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I’ve talked about this before, but I’ll say it again ~ we do judge books by their covers. It’s our first impression. That first impression may or may not inspire us to read the back matter (what’s it about?). The back matter may or may not spur us on to actually open the book and read the first few lines. At this point, if the first few lines read well, you’re more than halfway there and your cover has done its job. If the first few lines read poorly, the cover may have surpassed its content  (one might give it a few pages, even a chapter to decide~ but at least it got you to look.) Reviews, of course, give books some major traction, but if you’re at all picky about how you spend your time, you’ll probably still go through these steps before plunging in. And it all starts with the cover.

Book covers can be fantastic visual candy. And they actually can make or break a sale. As a graphic designer, and as much as I both write and read, creating covers is a natural extension of what I do, but not one many know about. So I thought I’d share some with you below. So you know.

P.S. The sun, by the way, has lost. The clouds have won, the rains have come. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m reading. :  )

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Friday Night Book Club: Confessions of a Book Lover

She had me hooked by the third paragraph. As it should be.

Page 1, The Signature of All Things / Elizabeth Gilbert

Page 1, The Signature of All Things / Elizabeth Gilbert

A friend of mine taught me the art of judging a book by its very first line. Of course, while that is very telling, we generally give it a little more time ~ at least a full page! Sometimes a lot more than that. But the truth is, I’ve become more discriminating over time. If I’m not adoring a book, I’m less apt to finish it than in years past, when I felt mysteriously honor-bound by some kind of self-imposed commitment to follow through. But no more. Fortunately, there’s no shortage of good books, so all this haughty discernment works in my favor.

And really, there’s nothing that compares to a settling in to a comfy chair (or the floor, which is often where I plop) with a cup of tea and an excellent book. Oh the places you go, the people you meet, the things you feel. The joy! For better or worse, I confess to often preferring a good book to live company. Depends on the company, naturally, and the timing. Sometimes the book outranks all.

But I have another confession. After years of tv drought (I’m really and truly not a tv person. I really and truly don’t know what’s current and cool to watch, and I have so much else to do! Who has time! But …), I discovered Netflix and Downton Abbey. Watched all 4 seasons in about a month. Then I discovered Breaking Bad. (WOW!) Again I watched all 5 years (or however long it was) in about a month’s time. Yes ~ I binged. I loved every minute. And instead of picking up a book, I watched. There, I’ve fessed up.

But here’s the flip side – there just aren’t nearly enough great shows as there are fabulous books, so reading is still king on my hit parade.

(Alright, so maybe this wasn’t such a dramatic confession, as the title lead you to believe. But it was a good title, wasn’t it! Go on, give me that. :  ) )

It did get me thinking, though, about what makes any of it worthwhile, whether words on a page or moving pictures on a screen. What draws me in to some and not to others? (keeping in mind that I’m highly fussy) It’s the same for each medium and it’s very simply, purely and only about great storytelling. That means brilliant writing. Personable, intriguing characters. Interesting plots, invisibly rich details/filming. You’re immersed. You’re engaged. You care.

You have to care. Or it’s not worthwhile.

And thankfully there’s a wealth of it out there, because it’d be a terrible thing to be bookless.

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For any book lovers out there, we gather on the first Friday of each month, if you want to read along virtually. So far we’ve read the outstanding And the Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini), the fascinating The Reluctant Fundamentalist (Mohsin Hamid), the not-as-compelling The End of Your Life Book Club (Will Schwalbe) ~ and now it’s Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Signature of All Things… which as you probably figured out, had me hooked by the third paragraph.

I also have a list of books on my reading room page of this blog ~ as well as a GoodReads author page (also with a list) if anyone wants to connect over there.

Peace, love, happy reading.

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Get Lost

When I was a kid, I loved hiking deep into the woods behind our home, going as far as I could out of sight of any signs of humanity – no buildings or roads, just me, the trees, the ferns, the deer and rabbits and babbling brooks.

If I went with a friend, we’d pretend to be Lewis and Clark. Exploring new lands, meeting natives, hunting the wildlife. If I went by myself, I’d imagine how I’d cross the wildest rivers, how I’d fight off any villains, how the animals would be kind to me, and how I’d get back home if by chance I did truly lose my way… but I knew that last bit wouldn’t happen. I trusted my sense of direction then, and I do now. Unless I’m in a hurry, getting lost doesn’t bother me. I guess I’ve always felt a sliver of excitement about the unknown.

And so it is with a book. You might know the gist of a story, but you don’t know exactly how it’ll unfold; how that book’s particular stringing of words will feel, what pictures will form in your mind’s eye, how the characters’ voices will sound to your inner ear. You don’t know whether you’ll laugh or cry, you don’t know what you might learn, you don’t know what parts of yourself will become undone or rediscovered or lit up. Once in a while you even get bored and jump ship. But most of the time it’s an adventure, a grand foray into untapped territory, a magnificent way to get lost for a little while (without wondering how you’ll get back).

So, after the holiday comings and goings, after the hubbub has quieted and the “have-to’s” aren’t so pressing, I can think of little better than opening a good book. By the fire, with tea, (and yes, some chocolate waiting on the stove) ~ and get lost for a bit. Just me, the words, the pages, the plots, and maybe even some villains and babbling brooks.

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P.S.: I have a partial listing of books I’ve read over the years, with favorites noted, here on my “Reading Room” page. I also have a shelf of them over at GoodReads if anyone wants to follow and share good reads. 🙂

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Book Magic

Books are a uniquely portable magic.” ~ Stephen King

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While you won’t get me to admit to their coming off the page and plopping themselves on the chair beside me, I do often feel attached to the illustrations I’m creating. The ones that really speak through me can even have names. (yes, it’s true ~ please don’t judge me).

This little guy, the one in the grass on the book up there, is one of my favorites. He makes me smile. I smiled all the while “bringing him to life” ~ and that’s what happens. There’s some kind of unspoken dialogue that goes on between the artist, the ethers, the pencil and the page. The same when writing ~ characters can feel very much alive. There’s a thin line between real and imagined, and a spark that alights.

It’s that inexplicable sparkle of energy that usually results in the best work. You’re tuned in. Engaged. It flows. That’s the best. Even better … is if that energy translates for the reader. There’s the real magic.

Books open so many doors and windows ~ I can’t fathom a life without them; without stories and all their pains and glories and hilarities and knowledge and mystery. They teach, they excite, they take us to a thousand lands and lead us to wander and wonder and think and feel. They make us richer.

(And who knows if a happy goblin might not spring up from the pages sometime? Or maybe we’ve forgotten how to see them… :  ) )

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Reading Ditty

As a voracious reader myself, I firmly believe that reading is truly one of the most worthwhile, elevating things we can do at any age.

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ps: my marketing muse tells me I should plug my own books, too, so here they are … a click on the image below will take you to my amazon author page, or you can see all my loot at my shop (left menu on this page). :  )

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Love a Picture Book

I love it when a friend shares something good. And this is good!

Somehow I’d missed this piece from the New York Times. Missed the whole story. Apparently, back in October (2010) the Times posted an article called “Picture Books No Longer a Staple for Children”.

But kids and teachers know better, and they let the Times know it in a big, wonderful way.

Instigated by Lynne Sundstrom, a Teacher/Librarian at California’s Birch Lane Elementary School, February 2011 was designated “Love a Picture Book Month”.

The students (enrollment 600) read 4590 picture books that month, then sent a letter along with a signed, 15-foot scroll to the NY Times editor as proof that picture books not only matter, but are enjoyed and are essential for learning and development.

Bravo Ms. Sundstrom! And cheers to the Times for posting this testament to the students, families, school staff and all the fantastic picture books that make a lasting difference.

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Tea and a Great Piece of Writing

A bit of a book review for my more literary friends…

Time has had its foot on the accelerator of late, driving us forward much too quickly, compressing what might normally be summer’s leisure into streaks and blurs of heat and humidity, flowers, bees and drying lawns.

But I’ve found a perfect book for the time-snippets I’ve been able to carve out to maintain my reading habit.

The Elegance of The Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery is a story told in the voices of two main characters: a brilliant, cynical young girl and a brilliant, middle-aged woman trapped by societal expectation in a low-class existence. I haven’t gotten terribly far, but it’s the kind of book that doesn’t require obsessive reading (which is why it’s just right for a summer season that’s squashed with to-do’s and squeezed between the schedule-laden seasons of spring and fall).

One of the things I’m most appreciating about The Elegance of The Hedgehog is the abundance of fabulous lines that tempt me to create the book’s very own list of quotes ~ which I haven’t done and won’t do, but the thought is testament enough to the author’s  wordsmithing.

In any event, those of you who know me, know I enjoy my tea. So finding the topic of this particular entry appealing will be no surprise ~ but it’s the larger essence, the rise and fall of the thought process, the meditation, the skilled expanding and condensing of a moment speaking to life and power and subtlety that I found truly delightful .. and worthy of sharing.

So here it is:

I pour the tea and we sip in silence. We have never had our tea together in the morning, and this break with our usual protocol imbues the ritual with a strange flavor.

Yes, this sudden transmutation in the order of things seems to enhance our pleasure, as if consecrating the unchanging nature of ritual established over our afternoons together, a ritual that has ripened into a solid and meaningful reality. Today, because it has been transgressed, our ritual suddenly acquires all its power; we are tasting the splendid gift of this unexpected morning as if it were some precious nectar; ordinary gestures have an extraordinary resonance, as we breathe in the fragrance of the tea, savor it, lower our cups, serve more, and sip again; every gesture has the bright aura of rebirth. At moments like this the web of life is revealed by the power of the ritual, and each time we renew our ceremony, the pleasure will be all the greater for our having violated one of its principles. Moments like this act as magical interludes, placing our hearts at the edge of our souls: fleetingly, yet intensely, a fragment of eternity has come to enrich time. Elsewhere the world may be blustering or sleeping, wars are fought, people live and die, some nations disintegrate, while others are born, soon to be swallowed up in turn – and in all this sound and fury, amidst eruptions and undertows, while the world goes it merry way, bursts into flames, tears itself apart and is reborn; human life continues to throb.

So, let us drink a cup of tea.

(From  pg. 91 of The Elegance of The Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery)

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ps: Other great reads this summer that I’d recommend have been “The Help” (Kathryn Stockett), and “The Art of Racing in The Rain” (Garth Stein). A comprehensive list of my favorite books can be found at patriciasaxton.wordpress.com

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iPad: The New Medium for Children's Books?

Wow. This isn’t reading, it’s a multi-media experience.

Alice in Wonderland gets an animation makeover in the video below …  it’s frenetic (clearly shown at warp speed for promotional purposes), but there’s definitely a “wow” factor and a vivid sense of what’s possible.

It’s very cool storytelling. It’s fun. But it certainly distracts from the act of reading – an act that’s pretty important in my book (no pun intended).

It’s not unlike the difference between reading a book and watching a movie. Yet entirely different from both because of the interactivity neither a classic book nor movie can claim.

And it begs the question: is this a good thing? Will it discourage reading, by making the words simply part of the visual action? Or will it encourage reading, by making it come alive?

I saw a comment calling this an “imagination killer”. Boy did that ring a bell. But will it be true?

There’s a lot to be said for hearing a story, imagining in your own mind what might be happening, and how and where, and what places look like.  I don’t think this should ever be devalued. But we know so little of the human mind … is it possible that an interactive story like this might expand a mind into even more imaginings?

I don’t have the answers, but I do agree with one thing: Whether animated or straight-forward, the iPad (and its likely successors) will probably be the next big medium for children’s books. Sooner than later.

And what I’m finding particularly strange, is that even a devout book appreciator like myself doesn’t really mind.

Nothing will replace the wonderfully textural experience of holding a book, turning the pages, smelling the paper … it’s almost sacred. But I can accept another medium, one that will show off colors in their brightest brilliance and whites at their crispiest and words their most sharp and dapper. All at the touch of a screen. It’s very neat. Very clean.

I also have to admit, I wouldn’t mind seeing my Fairies alight that screen. Not so sure I want them doing backflips or shaking fairy dust around at the whim of a “reader” … because, of course, I’d actually like them to read the words. But just a little flitting about might not hurt.

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Please feel free to share your thoughts! I’d love to know how people feel about this.

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