Bookshop Bumblings

Finally, I was able to read what I had wanted to all along instead of the very poor substitute of “On Chesil Beach.” This book is amazing and I absolutely adored it. I could kick myself for not having read it sooner, and yet at the same time I still wish I had the delight of reading it for the first time to look forward to. Oh well.

Now on to getting the rest of McEwan’s works in my grubby little hands.

Talk about the wrong book to give a couple of Newlyweds. Ouch!

This was the first book I’ve read by McEwan and in reality was just something to do until I could get my hands on “Atonement” which I had left at work. It’s a quite short story that I couldn’t really relate too. Well told, sad – but just a little off. Didn’t do much for me one way or another. I can see liking some of his other work though.

Making Money is not a business bible at all but rather a sequel to Pratchett’s “Going Postal” with which it shares these similarities:
*Both were bought in hardback as presents for my lovely boyfriend. He was eyed as he read them and then I nabbed them as soon as he finished. Don’t judge me.
*Both were read while I was home sick. Not that I’m saying you need a fevered mind racked with delusion to relate to any of Pratchett’s main characters, but it helps.
*Both were fantastic light reads and had me chuckling throughout, even though I was in a sick bed.

When Pratchett first announced that he had early onset Alzheimers, I discussed with a friend who is also a fan of his. She commented something like, “Not to be cold-hearted but why couldn’t it have happened to someone else oh say Nicolas Sparks?” To which I thought, “By reading the plot summaries on the back of Sparks books one might assume that it has already happened to him as well.” Read one of his books and I’m pretty sure you’ve read them all.

For Christmas, I received lots of fantastic presents. Among them was *not* this book. However, a dear friend did get a couple of bath bombs which are my favorite. Tonight, after a long dull day at work, I decided to tuck into a hot bath with this book and the chocolate flavored bath explosion of joy. Man, I love chocolate. And that bath bomb smelled and felt great.

But it looked. Well, sitting in a tub of hot brown water might be one of the most disturbing things I have ever willingly done. I decided I would just concentrate on my book but it’s hard not to notice that you’re neck high in BROWN water. I kept lifting the book higher and higher to read it, all the while negating any soothing effects the bath might have had on my neck.

Bathing in brown water = Ewwww.
Memoirs of a teenage amnesiac = Awww.

This is the right mix of cute, light, sad, and vulnerable. It’s full of overly self conscious mixes and Ingmar Bergman references. And it tries to hard, just like every teen does. I loved it.

I’m always a complete sucker for Chabon’s dry wit and this one even features a man who is constantly smitten with a new hat. Oh, a man after my own heart. It took me a little while to get into. Since it’s such a short novel that meant that by the time I was into it, I was about out of it.

Alas, perhaps if Chabon had gone with his original title of “Jews with Swords” I would have picked it up sooner.

When I asked Mr. Singleton to autograph a copy of this book for my friend, I said – “It’s for ‘Jayward’ like ‘Bayward’ only with a ‘J’ instead of a ‘B.” He laughed and I forgave him for the last time I had seen him (at a SIBA convention) when he commented that I looked hungover.

The truth is that Jayward is nothing like Bayward. Bayward is a well meaning drunk. Jayward is a well meaning librarian. Less lush, more shush. Or something.

The book was funny though, and George Singleton is my favorite local author. Of course, his closest competition was arrested as a child predator on the intranets last year so …

If you recall, this was the series where I was going to try to use Zen Buddhist techniques when it came to reading young adult novels because that’s just how much of a *forward thinker* I am. My theory was that by knowing ahead of time and accepting that the endings to Westerfeld’s series are going to be let downs – that they then cease to do so. I have to say, I think it worked.I love this world Westerfeld created where there are 25 hours in a day – with the 25th hour being a dark nefarious time only experienced in a certain spot by those born at the stroke of midnight. These Midnighters all have a individual unique skill to help them during this hour ranging from brilliance in math to mind-casting to the ability to defy gravity for that one hour. These skills come in handy for the darklings which lurk then. They also cause for really diverse and intriguing characters that made the story have so much more depth than some of the author’s other work.

I really did expect the ending to be disappointing but was pleasantly surprised that I liked the way it was all tied together. No, it wasn’t a happy fairy tale close but at least it wasn’t some half-assed environmental love letter to Al Gore like The Uglies. Speaking of, I hear another book is coming out in October (“The Extras”) and here I thought that series was over. Oops. Maybe it will redeem itself after all! Now, there’s fairy tale optimism at its best.

I am so glad my last name isn’t Heap. However, I think I am going to start spelling my name Lauryk.

I have no idea why I didn’t post this back when I read it. Now, I can’t think of what to say – except that it’s a good un.

I like to threaten Mrs. Meyer that I will do certain bizarre things – and my latest such threat was that I was going to post a picture of myself licking her latest book. Licking/kissing – there were many boys I knew in middle school who thought they were the same thing so CLOSE ENOUGH.

So far, this is by far my favorite book in the series. To be honest, I was a bit meh about the first two books. I could see how they could appeal to others, and I heartily recommended them to that group. They just didn’t rank high as personal favorites. However, this redeemed the series completely and now I am so smitten with the characters (especially Jacob – purrrrrrr).

Bitter chick lit for the hardcore potty-mouth young adult slut contingent.

Naturally, I couldn’t put it down.