kblincoln

2008 Books #106 Wicked Game

Fri, 10 Oct 08 17:24:00 UT

Jeri Smith-Ready gives us another vampire paranormal (romantic) with Wicked Game .

The cool thing about this one is that the main character DOESN'T HAVE SUPER POWERS. She's just an ex-con. As in, ex confidence trickster. And it is this that she uses as her angle to defeat the bad vampires when they threaten the radio station where the good vampires work.

This gets points for originality (way cool vampire dying scenes) and for romantic lead who definitely doesn't want to get bitten and stays that way.

I feel like the story just didn't...quite....hang together all the way for me. I am assuming its a fault of the first novel in this series (although its not her first novel by any means) But I'll definitely get the next in the series (Bad to the Bone in 2009).

As an added plus, there's a WVMP website with music from each vampire dj in the book.

way cool.

Recommended for afficionados of vampire literature. Probably not for other people.

2008 Books #105 The Dante Club

Wed, 8 Oct 08 09:30:00 UT

Parent Alert! Parent Alert!

This review is for a book YOU WOULD ENJOY.

The Dante Club by Mathew Pearl is a book that is half-history text, half murder mystery.

Yes, a winning combination :)

The story takes place right after the Civil War in Boston. It revolves around American literary masters Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and James Lowell.

They are translating Dante's Inferno. And then people around them start getting murdered in ways strangely similiar to Dante's masterpiece.

It was hard for me to get into this book at first because the first couple of chapters are written like a history book as we are introduced to the characters. And not just any history book, but one of those huge, dusty ancient tomes you find hidden in library stacks that uses mostly source material and contains outdated language. Once Pearl hits his stride though (or my brain became used to that writing style, whichever) the story does become engaging.

You never quite...connect with the characters, but you do care what happens to the American Poets as they chase down their killer literary-befuddled gentleman style.

And the history. Ah yes, this quite literally is dripping with history. Longfellow and Holmes particularly came alive for me, in ways that informs their poetry and makes me want to go back and read it knowing now about their wives, and their mixed feelings regarding race relations, and the horrible aftermath of the Civil War.

Recommended, but with the warning that it is a dense, dense text and not for the faint-hearted.

Funny how it works out..

Tue, 7 Oct 08 08:20:00 UT

...that when my life is full and busy, that I can't find the energy to synthesize the vague thoughts floating around in my brain into an actual coherent monologue.

Naoto's out of town, the school PTC activities are giving me headaches, and work stuff is still taking a lot of my time.

And I want to have fuuuuuuuuuuun (cue whining with puppy dog eyes).

The only problem with having a full life...is...well...that its full.

In the midst of this fullness, I guess the overwhelming common theme is how much I appreciate my children. And how I struggle walking two fine lines. One line is the patience/irritation with everyday things like how fast girl2 eats her breakfast (glacially slow) and the amount of whining I have to hear when its homework time for girl1 (mountainous). And if I step back from those times, really there are a million reasons why these things don't matter and shouldn't stress me out. But its hard to remember that every day.

And the second line I walk is the pride line. It is so easy to feel good about yourself, and to take your own parental behaviors for granted without questioning them when your kids are doing okay in life. But there is a voice of niggling truth that reminds me that really I have very little to do with it. I mean, yes, I provide a foundation of love, but I can't take credit for girl1's amazing ability to learn the butterfly kick in the course of one swimming lesson, or the compliments I get for girl2's ability to take any common phrase and say it such a way that is cute or funny. (I constantly have other parents commenting on her unfailing good nature and frivolity)

You see, I KNOW that I can't take credit for it. And I know its a dangerous path to walk if you start equating innate characteristics of your children with your parenting skills...but its so insidious.

Because I don't know about other mothers, but for me, parenting is like being dropped from a helicopter into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and being told "swim home."

I mean there are sharks and icky seaweed below, the water's choppy so you can't tell what direction you are going, and if you stop for even ONE LITTLE INSTANT, you will drown.

So its easy to want your children's achievement to be a sort of confirmation you're going the right direction. But really that doesn't work. I mean, you hear about all-start students freaking out, or unhappy students turning into Einstein all the time. So there has to be some other measure of parental success.

Anyone know what it is?

House of Valparaiso

Thu, 2 Oct 08 11:42:00 UT

Naoto and I went to a live concert at the Crystal Ballroom last week.

(cue squeeing of delight at change in our usual suburbian thirtysomething lives)

The band was Calexico, which, if you read this journal, you'll remember me getting a crush on them a few months ago.

Anyway, someone apparently taped House of Valparaiso at the concert we went to and loaded it up on youtube.com.

It has the most mesmerizing trumpet line you'll ever hear; sweet and smooth like butter. Naoto and I keep humming it around the house.

The dozen daily delights

Tue, 30 Sep 08 08:16:00 UT

Nicola Griffith vaulted to the top of my favorite author list many years ago when I discovered Slow River.

It was the first time I'd come across a book that made me FEEL as if the main character was real. That she acted realistically. She had to get herself out of abusive relationships. She had to decide who she wanted to be. In short, it was a version of what we all have to do throughout our lives. And it includes a near-future concept of what a biological water cleaning plant might look like that blew me away. (why isn't that facility reality? Can someone please show that book to like every major garbage company in the world please?)

And then my friend Chavala moved to Seattle and got to know Nicola and her partner, Kelley, and I got to go to her wedding and MEET Kelley (although I was so fan girlish I could barely speak to her).

So I instantly put Nicola on my "instantly buy" author list and she has yet to disappoint me, despite her writing growing and changing genre. I highly recommend her Aud series (not speculative at all, highly intense emotional thrillers).

So, go out and read her if you haven't yet. But, back to the topic of this post.

In the face of our country's financial meltdown, I found it refreshing to read her post about things to do everyday.

I think I hit about five things on her list most every day (by her criteria, that means every day is a bad day, yikes)

I got the chocolate, doing nothing for five minutes, fruit, vegetable, read a novel, and drink water. Some of the others I'm working on.

There's nothing like a "back to the basics" post to remind yourself that despite economic upheavel, really the most important things have more to do with how lucky you are to be born in a country with access to water and food, and that the way to live life is to enjoy these things an be grateful for them.

The difference between USAians and Japanese...

Sat, 27 Sep 08 17:52:00 UT

...distilled into one bite:

I put peanut butter on my celery sticks.

He puts miso on them.

And neither of us ever really wants to eat the other version. Because, you know, it's WRONG.

(**Disclaimer: This entry contains Kirsten's patented "exaggeration for effect". Believe at your own risk.)

2008 Books #104 Generation Loss

Sat, 27 Sep 08 10:06:00 UT

At first glance, the title Generation Loss seems to point to disaffected youth. However, it really refers to a photographic term wherein subsequent photos lose some of their quality/immediacy as they are made from the same print/negative.

And photography is the central spoke around which this story turns. Photographs define the protagonists' life, it is the means by which suspense/terror builds, and it is the language of photography; colors, shapes, vibrancy, that makes this book so very interesting to read.

It also helps that it features a drug-addicted heroine who despite stealing, lying, senseless mean acts, and self-destructing tendencies, obsession with death, stays somehow very sympathetic. Even at the end, when she saves the day, it is done in a very egoistic, self-centered and believable way. But you can't help but root for her.

The fantastic element in this book is very slight, if there at all. Most of it can be explained away by craziness or conincidence.

Taking place on a small island off the coast of Maine, the portrayal of the land and people of that place was just as fascinating for me as the story itself.

Nicely done. Very Recommended for anyone. (although I warn you, there are some very disturbing images in this book related to death)

It takes a village....

Thu, 25 Sep 08 13:54:00 UT

...or in our case, a Grandma.

I'm pretty sure my mom didn't know the full extent of what she was letting herself in for when she decided to move close to us here in Beaverton.

Of course there's the obvious benefits for my family. I couldn't work unless Grandma was around for pick ups and drop offs related to school. Naoto would have to get to work late all the time if she didn't come in the morning to pick up the slack. When Naoto's gone in Japan, she picks up even more childcare duties.

However, besides being Sometime-Mommy and Sometime-Daddy to my children, Grandma also provides services to an extended network of friends.

She plays with kids at parties that are not her blood relations. She provides some of the childcare and taxi services that allows one of my friends to go to nursing classes, another friend to get her child to school on time despite conflicting start times for her two kids, and serves as de facto Grandma in Sunday School and other gatherings.

So, it's a little late, but here's to my Mom on Senior Appreciation Day in Japan.

Couldn't do it without you. Literally.

2008 Books #103 The Shadow Year

Thu, 25 Sep 08 05:13:00 UT

The Shadow Year by Jeffrey Ford has a plot in which three kids (sister and two brothers) are caught up in fear when one summer a prowler comes to their town.

But the real story here isn't about the prowler, or even about the replica of their town they've made in their basement and how the sister can "tell" where real people will be by putting their figurines in their replica of Botch Town.

What keeps you reading this book is the portrait of people seen, unflaggingly, through the eyes of the protagonist, a young boy. You see how the mother drinks herself to sleep each night, and how they put a book on her lap so that she'll think she read herself to sleep. You see how the death of a friend's mother looks through a boy's eyes, and how a tired teacher can be noble and pathetic at the same time.

I really enjoyed the language of this book. The descriptions were beautiful and eerie at the same time. "The days sank deeper into autumn, rotten to their cores with twilight."

Recommended. Even for non-speculative fiction readers, as the speculative element was slight.

Kirsten's thought for the day

Tue, 23 Sep 08 08:12:00 UT

...because I'm working and my mind is idly wandering...

Children don't inherit the world you did, so why should they have the childhood you did?

Or, in other words, why is it so important to me to have my children know about things like the Muppets or Holly Hobby or have similiar experiences as my childhood when their cultural context is completely different?

And who's to say that my childhood was all that good anyway?

So why does it still feel important to me? Why do I feel sad when I know they probably won't ever know the thrill of dune buggying around Lake Michigan or tasting fudge on Mackinac Island?

Who are you allowed to be?

Fri, 19 Sep 08 08:17:00 UT

So I was talking with a friend last night at Ava's Roasteria here in lovely Beaverton.

(Yay, Kirsten's shift got cancelled, so she didn't have to get up at 5am this morning! Yay, that means social life is possible)

And our conversation turned to why we are friends with the people we are friends with. (Okay, the conversation didn't so much as turn as I asked one of those questions I ask without censoring my brain, and then immediately discover how either a)rude, b) inappropriate, c)easily misconstrued the question is)

And in the course of our conversation, what came out for me (I'm not saying this is true, just that this is what I was thinking to myself during the conversation) is that we are friends with people, really friends, let-down-your-guard friends with only people who kind of a) give us attention and b) allow us to be a certain way.

Let me unpack that for you. We all want attention. People who give us attention, make us feel important. Make us feel like we matter. OF COURSE we want to be with that person. (That goes the other way, too. If you have a friend who suddenly gets distracted by life or another friend or something, it surely makes us irritable and whiny).

Now the other point is more difficult for me to explain. I mean, of course I am Kirsten when I am with all my friends. But I've discussed before that certain facets of my personality come out more depending on who I'm with. And there are very few people with whom I am not holding back (actually, that's too strong of a word, maybe more like "filtering" or "choosing not to express" is better) some part of myself because I think they won't understand it or not appreciate it or it will bore them.

I can count on one hand the people with whom, under certain situations, I don't filter myself hardly at all. And so I find their company soothing, and their attention particularly desirable because I can let parts of myself out without worrying what kind of impression I'm making.

Does that make sense?

Not that I have no use for friends who won't let me express myself utterly completely. On the contrary, as I was saying last night, I don't believe we should expect everything from every person. That's why diversity is so great. We can get different things from different people.

But oh how rare and wonderful is it when we find people with whom we can express a majority of ourselves.

And it makes me wonder what my friends are hiding inside themselves.

2008 Books #102 Dreamhunter

Thu, 18 Sep 08 08:25:00 UT

I read one of Elizabeth Knox's adult books first before starting this acclaimed YA duet, beginning with Dreamhunter .

I haven't read the second one yet, but I just put it on hold at the library.

Elizabeth Knox (based on reading two of her books) has a knack for creating complex characters. They are self-aware of their conflicted feelings. They are mean sometimes without wanting to be, they are flawed and selfish and let things go.

I really enjoyed that. And in the Dreamhunter book, she creates a turn of the century society almost indistinguishable from our own (Down to having the same literature, one character mentions Mill on the Floss) except that a few years prior, the Place was discovered. The Place is an arid, magical land only some people are able to enter. A small percentage of those people are Dreamhunters, or people who can sleep there, dream, and then bring that dream back to the real world and share it with people.

The story revolves around two girls, cousins, both with parents who are dreamhunters. They are coming of age when they will be able to "try", as in try to enter the place, and based on the results of that try they both know their lives will change forever.

The problem is, the most famous dreamhunter, Tziga Hame, is a father of one of the girls, and he is finding out that the goverment's use of the dreams, and the nature of the Place itself is not as innocent as it seems.

The world, the nature of dreamhunting, the political implications of mind control, all of these are well-detailed and woven together seamlessly.

My problem with this book, and with Knox's other book, incidentally, seems to be a detachment from the characters. While I sympathized with them, I did not FEEL them, or their worries. Reading the book was like watching a show from the back row of a large amphitheater where you are close enough to see and hear what's going on, but the action feels far away.

Despite this, I did enjoy the book. So:

Recommended.

More on Passion and Balance

Wed, 17 Sep 08 09:48:00 UT

I know I've written before about how my "crushes" inspire me to write. It's like...accessing those emotions in myself compels me to process them by writing, or by using those emotions to inspire me to write.

I'm not sure which.

But anyway, the reason I make such a big deal about these brief bursts of intense feelings (passion in the lurvy-dovy sense, passion meaning intense interest and preoccupation with something) is that I feel that I have gotten to a place in my life where things flow pretty freely and are somewhat balanced.

And I go back and forth between thinking that is a good thing and wondering what I could be doing if I felt more passionate about things.

I mean, it takes alot of effort to be passionate. It takes caring, and the disappointments that accompany caring, and the constantly thinking about your passion to the detriment of other parts of your life.

On the other hand, without passion, things don't get done. If you're not passionate (remember I'm saying intensely preoccupied, not crazily obsessed or romantically obsessed) about something, things don't change or get better. I can name the most obvious examples of passion like Gandi or Mother Teresa off the top of my head.

But there's other, smaller, more local ways that passion can change things. Like being passionate about nutrition starting an organic produce home delivery service. Or being passionate about getting the best for your children inspiring you to participate in school activities, or being passionate about your garden leading to beautiful landscape.

So I wonder if my definition of "balanced" or "content" needs to include occasional bursts of uncomfortable emotion?

What are you passionate about? Does it make you uncomfortable?

Full fledged crush

Tue, 16 Sep 08 07:07:00 UT

Oh yes, HBO's True Blood series episode two (First Taste)has plunged me into the fiery depths of THE CRUSH.

It's strange. I don't so much crush on people. I crush on a particular song, or a particular relationship within a show, or a series of books that creates a particular world or feeling (as I've discussed before.)

With this series, its the give and take underneath an outward repression of emotions, a formal dance where characters trade small talk while love and hate seethe below the everyday words.

It's fascinating to me in the same way watching the formal English manners of Room With a View, or Remains of the Day, or Pride and Prejudice makes me feel things keenly because they are not fully expressed.

Now don't get me wrong, there is a HUGE difference between True Blood and those other movies. For one thing, True Blood contains quite graphic violence and sex.

But the graphic parts aren't what get me. Those aren't the parts that make me hold my breath.

It's the parts where two characters are dancing around eachother (conversation wise), leading up to some kind of emotional intimacy, and you just want them to let go of their fear and just jump in head first.

There's a kind of terror-laced beauty in it.

2008 Books #101 Pay the Piper: A rock n roll fairy tale

Sun, 14 Sep 08 15:42:00 UT

Here comes the Adam Stemple fan club again.

Pay the Piper is the first of Adam Stemple/Jane Yolen's collaborative rock n roll influenced modern retellings of fairy tales.

As you might guess from the title, this one is based around an ex prince of faery who gets himself exiled. Every seven years he has to pay a teind of either gold or human souls. On a day when the prince, now a rock n roll star in the band Brass Rat, is without money in a small New England town, Cassie, the main character, is caught up in his attempt to pay a teind with the children who came to see his concert.

Cassie was believable in her grumblings about her hippie family. Her quick wits save the day, and her crush on another band member is very believable.

There were some horrific details in this book (child ghosts and a river of blood) that give it just that right frisson of terror for kids.

Recommended, but mostly for youth, not for adults.