all the fun of the fair...

Monday, July 21, 2003

All books, all the time...

I'm just a book reading machine here. Since the last time I wrote about my rapacious devouring of the written word, I've read:

Brave New World (Aldous Huxley) - a classic, and a very good book, to be sure, but not the gut-wrencher that 1984 is for me. I wonder, if I had read it in high school, would my feelings about Brave New World be on par with my love for 1984, Animal Farm and Catch-22?

Those Who Hunt the Night (Barbara Hambly) - this is a re-read of a vampire mystery that's sat in my shelf for awhile. Upon re-reading, I discovered that I remembered absolutely nothing about the book. It's not bad, with some pretty good characters, but the prose tended to be a little florid and repetitive for my tastes.

The Sorcerer's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets (J.K. Rowling) - since I want to read The Order of the Phoenix, I thought I'd re-read the first two, then move on to the others, since I haven't read them at all. Good books all around. I can't wait to borrow The Prisoner of Azkaban and The Goblet of Fire from my friend Sarah.

The Lost Slayer (Christopher Golden) - I read The Chamber of Secrets in less than a day and found myself bookless for part of my bus ride home on Friday. Since this was not to borne, I stopped off at the Upstart Crow at the Universal CityWalk, looking for something, anything to read. This book caught my BtVS loving eye. Having never read a Buffy novel before, and hearing that The Lost Slayer series was a good one, I was delighted to find all four books reissued in one volume. Good book and an excellent introduction to Buffy novels, with much emphasis on my favorite BtVS character, Rupert Giles. There was even a moment near the end that made me tear up.

This morning I started Sophie's Choice by William Styron. I bought it over ten years ago in a used book shop because I lovelovelove the movie. It's been sitting on my shelf, lonely and collecting dust. A few weeks ago I saw someone on the bus reading it, which reminded me of my own possession, and I resolved to finally take it up. It's a little slow going right now, but I'm sure I'll get into it.

***********************************************

There is one other book that I read that is not mentioned above. There's a reason. Because, despite the excellence of most of the aforementioned books, it is in a league of its own: Why Girls Are Weird by Pamela Ribon. I'm not indulging in hyperbole when I say it is one of the best books I've ever read.

Now, I'm not just saying that because I'm been a fan of Pamie's site since 1999. Or because we've met a couple of times. Or because we briefly shared a karaoke stage in Vegas while attending SquishyCon 2001. I'm saying it because it's the absolute truth.

Sarah had heard about Pamie's book through me and picked it up while browsing in a Barnes and Noble. She lent it to me after she attended Pamie's signing in West L.A. It took me a couple of days to finish it, but only because I had to put it down several times whilst on the bus because I didn't want to start weeping in front of a bunch of strangers. It is one of the funniest, saddest, most hopeful books I've ever read. I sent a very long e-mail to Pamie the day I finshed her book, thanking her for writing it. Because I think I said it best in that e-mail, here's an except (okay, it's most of the e-mail):

I loved reading the reworked Squishy entries. I loved reading about Anna Koval, knowing that she is ficitonal and the story is largely fictional, but seeing the grains of truth underneath all the fiction. Maybe it does mean more to me because I've met the person behind the words, because I, along with so many other people, can say, "I met her when."

But, most of all, because, though the situations were different, the emotions in the book were familiar, the grief and pain and tentative happiness all emotions I've experienced. The pain of break-up, the swelling with hope and self-doubt when confronted with a possible new relationship [...], all old friends, old shirts I put away for awhile until the time comes to wear them again.

And, to a small extent, the grief of losing a parent. [mention of father being cut out of family] So, in effect, I've been going through a grieving process the last seven months in regards to my father and reading about Anna's father [illness and death] [...] strongly grips me, causing me to put the book down several times on the bus to collect myself. Because really, who wants to break down crying in front of a bunch of strangers unless it's pre-scripted and on stage? Certainly not me.

So today I'm welcoming the feeling left over after reading "Why Girls Are Weird". I want to keep this fragile, spent, trembling, laughing, hopeful sensation wrapped around me for at least a little while longer, regardless of the fact that I'm sitting at work in cubicle surrounded by co-workers with their heads bent to their work, as mine should be and will be as soon as I hit "Send".

[...] I'll be purchasing my own copy so that I can refer back to it in those times when I need a little reminder that I'm not the only person who's ever felt that way. [...] Because you? Rock harder than Bob has ever, ever hoped to rock and so does "Why Girls Are Weird".

It's that simple.

Thank you.

So everyone? Read this book. If you can buy it, do so, because I think Pamie should get lots and lots of money (I bought my copy last week, the day I finished Why Girls Are Weird). But if you can't afford it, borrow it from a friend, check to see if your local library has it, ask them to order it if they don't. Women? Y'all will totally identify with Anna. Men? Y'all might just be a few steps closer to understanding what women are thinking.

I kid you not.

-- posted by Carol Elaine @ 4:47 PM -- |

Comments: Post a Comment