DIY: Old Book Kindle Cover

We all know I love books. A lot. But since I've succumbed to the e-reader, it's been a great way to save my back on the commute and on vacations. My mother is a fellow bookworm—she's probably at fault for my obsession. And since I've been wanting to try my hand at one of these projects for awhile, I thought Mother's Day seemed like a good excuse to get out the Modge Podge!

I did a little research for ideas (blogger Quentin Lewis has a good, albeit different, approach), ordered my book from Amazon and then went to buy supplies...

Bookshelf: The Hunger Games Trilogy

(Image courtesy of Scholastic)

I will write more on this soon, but we've been working on a special Hunger Games issue at work. To prepare, I read the first book in the series. And then the second... and the third. I devoured them. I was completely sucked in for several days—reading on the subway, reading at home, reading on every break I could manage. 

At the risk of sounding like a teen-lit junkie, I believe they are infinitely better-written than those vampire books. (Probably tied with the wizard ones.) Suzanne Collins' prose is beautiful, eloquent and simple. Her characters are complex, and you actually begin to care if they survive or find any sort of happiness. The three main characters are far from perfect, but they have depth and strength and a certain believability. (I even recommended that my teenage sister read the books, which I never, ever did for the other books. Who would ever want their sister to emulate Bella Swan?) I've been hearing a lot about Team Gale vs. Team Peeta, but to be honest, I have to agree with Isabelle Fuhrman, who plays the tribute Clove: "I'm very much Team Katniss—whatever her decision is. The story is about Katniss,not about the whole love-triangle thing. It's about survival."

And, just for fun, check out this Hunger Games promo that was mailed to writers like Entertainment Weekly's Adam Vary: 

Courtesy of EW.com

Bookshelf: Galore

I just finished Michael Crummey's latest abundant novel, Galore. Crummey's epic is set in the coastal town of Paradise Deep, a remote settlement in northern Newfoundland. A pale man named Judah is pulled out from the belly of a whale and into the bitter rivalries and harsh realities of two feuding families. Set in the 19th century, melancholy and moody prose weaves throughout the story. Several generations pass through Paradise Deep, each with their own quirks, their own loves, their own losses, and their own mythologies.

Crummey manages to reveal bleak realities with tenderness and grace. The town is filled with strong, broken people, who almost always accept their situation in life as-is. One of the most poignant story lines was about an old woman who married as a girl, out of duty, and thought she'd consequently lost the one man who ever loved her. Her discovery that she'd spent an entire lifetime unknowingly married to her anonymous admirer was too late, and about crushes the reader's heart with hers. 

For more, read this interview with Michael Crummey, this review and check out the book.

Project: Bookshelves Revamp

Today, I have been thinking a lot about my bookshelves. We have four Billy Bookcases in the bedroom and office that hold a mix of novels, reference, music and religion books, and owl bookends. But they need some freshening up. Since a rolling ladder is currently out of the question (space, expense and lack of a stable built-in on which to attach it), I have been toying with color-cordinating my shelves. It's not a novel idea, but might give me a fun, cheap project and a new look. Everything is currently organized by subject matter and height, which makes it easy to find, but not the most aesthetically-pleasing. (For example, classic writers like Virgil and Homer are together, while the Parisian 20s expats like Fitzgerald and Hemingway are on another shelf.) Above are my Coralie Bickford-Smith Penguin Classics and some other favorites. Anyway, here is some of the inspiration I found today on the interweb.

Bookshelf: Daughters of the River Huong

I've been waiting to read Daughters of the River Huong, by Uyen Nicole Duong, for awhile. I have two adopted sisters who were born in Vietnam, and it's a place I admit I have a lot of curiosity about and little real knowledge. A novel might not usually be the best place to gain historical knowledge, but Vietnam's most recent conquests, from the French to VietCong to the Americans, were gracefully woven into the narrative.

During the process of adopting my first sister from Vietnam, my mother ended up staying in the country for several months. My mother and Anny were in a tiny hotel room in Hanoi, where she'd do laundry in the sink and could lie down on the floor and touch both walls. I remember when they finally came home, she told stories of French architecture and incredible food cooked on the sidewalk, of vivid silks and wide-eyed street children, of zipping motorbikes and lazy heat. Everyone in our family got their own ao dai to wear to Anny's christening. Vietnam seemed to my middle-school self like a land of richness and wonder.

But I'd also read enough about the ongoing struggle, the pain and disruption and brutality of the Vietnam War (and seen Forrest Gump, which I confess informed the other half of my impressions) to not only imagine a lush jungle paradise.

No novel truly encompasses a country or a culture, unless the writer was Michener. ;) But the story of Vietnam (a story of conquest and subjugation but also beauty and resilience) was told through the generations of women in one family. It's a melancholy tale that follows the life of a royal concubine, then her daughters—the revolutionist and the princess, then her granddaughter—a plain woman who loved to create gardens in the midst of drab realities, and finally, the great-granddaughter who was rescued at the fall of Saigon, lived in America, who loved, lost and sang. It's a glimpse at a culture, told through the perspective of admittedly aristocratic characters. If nothing else, the book gave me an even deeper desire to learn about Vietnam, to travel there someday, to learn about the ancient and beautiful country where my sisters were born.

Quote: Belongs

(Photo via Britannica Image Quest)

"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you; the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse, and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was."

- Ernest Hemingway, "Old Newsman Writes: A Letter from Cuba," Esquire (New York, Dec. 1934).

Bookshelf: Twilight Saga

I just finished reading the Twilight saga. I started last Friday, and finished late last night (Thursday). I'll admit I got completely sucked in. It's not so much the love story or the adventure, but Stephenie Meyer manages to pull me along, sometime begrudgingly. About 2.5 books into reading, though, I realized my biggest issue with the novels: Bella. I do not like the heroine.

She is one of the most selfish, whiny, reckless, foolish, manipulative and inconsistent characters I have ever read. Her love for Edward is both her strongest trait and her biggest vulnerability. Often, I was disgusted by her inability to see things clearly and put those she loved first in a practical way, not some self-sacrifice that wouldn't wind up doing anyone any good and just get her into worse trouble/harm. Those around her were portrayed as much, much stronger, like she was a fragile doll that needed protection at all times. No one gave her complete information, no one trusted her to take care of herself (usually with good reason, because she would usually make the illogical choice.) She seemed incapable of looking at a situation objectively, without this obsessive desire to just have Edward and Jacob close to her. Even at their own personal cost. Selfish. Stupid. **spoiler alert** And once she decides to have the child, she doesn't care about the cost. She's maniacal in her martyrdom. And then once she becomes a vampire, I almost don't believe her new identity. But the personal strength she showed as a vampire finally made me, again somewhat begrudgingly, respect her.