01.25.10
Posted in Darn Good Reads at 9:13 pm by Administrator
When I was quite a few years younger, I read only “serious,” “grown-up” books. Now I’m old enough (barely old enough, mind you) to admit that was a stupid, boring way to approach my reading life. These days I have a rule: For every grown-up book I read, I have to read at least one kids’ book. Actually, lately it’s mostly the other way around: For every kids’ book, I try to read one grown-up book. Sometimes I do not succeed, especially when I get involved with a series like Percy Jackson & the Olympians.
This series, by Rick Riordan, is fun, funny, full of adventure, and has a special appeal to those of us who studied classics in college. Percy is just an ordinary kid with ADHD, until he discovers he is the son of a god—the son of an Olympian god, that is. His mother is mortal, and his father is … On second thought, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll give you a clue though: Think water. Part of the fun in reading about Percy’s adventures is trying to put all the clues and hints together to name the god (or monster) in question before Percy does. And every once in a while, someone says something in ancient Greek—a little extra challenge for those of you who struggled to translate Herodotus and Xenophon and Homer in your Greek classes. Did I mention this is fun?
Another thing I enjoy in The Olympians series: The girls kick butt. Some adventure books are all about the boys. At least that’s how it was when I was growing up. The boys went out and did stuff while the girls stayed home to play dolls. For those of us girls who grew up climbing trees and having imaginary sword fights, changing a doll’s diaper just never cut it. Now girls in books get to actually have brains and be good at stuff—stuff like kicking a monster’s butt. I think this is a good thing, for girls and for boys.
I have so far read only the first three books in the series (I broke down and decided to read one of those “serious” books this week), but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed them and can’t wait to get my hands on the next two books. If you need to get in touch with your inner 12-year-old, give Percy Jackson a try.
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04.14.09
Posted in Darn Good Reads at 1:29 pm by Administrator
I stumbled upon Sara Selkirk in the library not that long ago. I was first drawn to the Roman-looking cover of the first book in the series, Funeral Music. Reading the back cover, I realized I was holding a British mystery in my hands. The plot sounded intriguing, but the author’s name was the clincher: How could I have respected myself if I passed up an author named Morag Joss? And so Funeral Music went home with me, I began reading, and within a few pages I had a new writer for my list of favorites.
Sara Selkirk is a world-renowned cellist living near Bath, England. Her career as an amateur detective begins when she discovers a body in an ancient Roman bath. Conveniently, Sara’s student and love interest (unfortunately married) is Detective Chief Inspector Andrew Poole, so she has access to inside information on the investigation. I won’t go into the plot more than that, but I will tell you that Sara survives and her adventures continue in Fearful Symmetry and Fruitful Bodies, with the usual false starts and deadly peril. All three books are also laced with a dry wit that often had me laughing out loud.
I now have a definite soft spot for Ms. Selkirk. In fact, I would like to be invited to her house for tea. Even better, I would watch her beautiful house for her while she goes on tour. It would be nice to think that Joss will write more Sara Selkirk books, but the end of Fruitful Bodies felt like a definite end to Sara’s detecting days (and no, I won’t tell you what happens).
Morag Joss has created a fun series, with just the kind of murder I enjoy (the kind I enjoy reading about, I mean). There are no homicidal lunatics tearing children limb from limb or sexually torturing their victims in a complicated manner that is vividly described. I have read a few too many violent, bloody thrillers in my career, and not by choice. For relaxation, I’m looking for an escape, something with interesting characters, an inviting setting, and enough tension to keep me turning pages. Something delightfully written, with unexpected humor. Something like a Sara Selkirk mystery.
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11.06.08
Posted in Darn Good Reads at 7:22 pm by Administrator
If you have ever wondered what sheep think about throughout the day, Three Bags Full will give you an idea. This is a “sheep detective story”; in fact, it is probably the only sheep detective story you will ever read. Let’s face it, there aren’t too many flocks of sheep that are interested in solving murders.
This inquisitive and talented flock turns to investigation when their beloved shepherd, George, is found dead in their field, with a spade stuck in his guts. Organized by Miss Maple, an exceptionally clever sheep, the fluffy detectives proceed to watch and listen to the various living humans who come to the field to investigate, satisfy their curiosity, or cover their tracks. Through their combined talents the flock members begin to assemble the pieces of this puzzle. Their task is a difficult one because they are sheep and don’t understand the ways of humans (who does, really?); however, they also have an advantage in that most humans don’t take sheep detectives very seriously (who does, really?).
The mystery is eventually solved, and the sheep attempt to communicate their findings to the local humans in a brilliant and unexpected way. But the mystery was only part of the fun. Imagining life as a sheep was fascinating (was Leonie Swann a sheep in a previous life?), although I did have trouble following some of the sheepy thoughts. Perhaps I should have gone outside to graze for a while and get in touch with my inner sheep. Even with the occasional confusion, I found myself laughing out loud and turning pages madly. Three Bags Full is a fun read, well worth the effort. And from now on, whenever I see a flock of sheep I will wonder if one of them might be the clever Miss Maple, or perhaps even Mopple the Whale, the memory sheep.
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10.25.08
Posted in Darn Good Reads at 7:15 pm by Administrator
The Book Thief is not quite like anything I have read before. This is the book I began reading at six in the morning during my staycation. It became a big part of the reason I stayed at home in my easy chair for most of my week off.
The story takes place in Nazi Germany and is narrated by Death (Death was busy in those years). If you’re looking for a happy story, inspiring heroism, or a fine romance, The Book Thief is not for you. If you’re willing to sit and look at difficult situations and imperfect lives, this book may be for you. If you have that willingness and a passion for words and books, this book is definitely for you.
Liesel Meminger is a young girl living in a foster home in Germany. Her career as a book thief begins after her brother’s funeral when she plucks a lost copy of The Grave Digger’s Handbook from the snow. Liesel’s kind foster father helps her read this odd book in the dark hours after her nightmares. We see her learning to read, learning the power of words and stories. Her career continues when she rescues a banned book—still smoldering—from a pyre at a Nazi book burning. Soon Liesel is climbing into the window of the mayor’s house to steal books—one at a time—from his library. A hidden Jew moves to temporary safety with the help of a copy of Mein Kampf, then uses the pages of that book to write his own story for Liesel. Later, in a basement bomb shelter, Liesel spontaneously begins reading from one of her books, soothing people’s fears. There is tragedy and confusion, violence and death. After all, this is a country at war.
You might expect a story narrated by Death to be macabre, bloodthirsty. I certainly did, which was why I actually put off starting this book for several weeks. Actually, Death in The Book Thief is often kind and gentle in the way he gathers up the souls of the recently departed. Death seems fascinated and confused by humans, sometimes disgusted by them and the way they keep him busy. Throughout the book, there is the sense that Death is floating through our world, watching us from his own unique perspective. To him, the air always has color and texture, almost as if it is alive. His descriptions were just enough to leave me feeling I was breathing Liesel’s air.
I won’t give away Liesel’s ending, but I will tell you I cried. Part of the power of a good story, so ably demonstrated in The Book Thief, is to make you love a character so much you will weep for her—no matter when or how Death finally comes.
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