The Anti-Book Review

So as many of you know, this blog started as a way to review the dozens of books I read every month.  But right now I'm broke and am not living all that conveniently to a library so I pretty much subside on free (or very, very cheap) Kindle books.  Yes, I know I could go over to the library on campus and borrow some things but I never think of it until after work and then it's too late so free Kindle books it is.

The issue with free and very cheap fiction Kindle books is that they fall into a very very narrow categories -

• Non-fiction B.S. (Example: Einstein's Refrigerator: And Other Stories)
• Really trashy romance (Example: Intentions of the Earl, Scandalous Sisters Book 1)
• Christian romance (Example: Paper Roses, Texas Dreams Book 1) No trash here, by the way.  These always sneak up you on!
• Old classics that I've read 100 times and have no reason to review because you've also read them 100 times (Example: Anne of Green Gables)

Now don't get me wrong, I have been known to read all of these categories and have been reading a lot of all of these lately.  In fact, all of these examples came off of books currently loaded on my Kindle.  But they sure as heck are not worth reviewing on any sort of blog.


Every summer I got through a slew of really trashy, female-centered, romance mystery books.  They are the definition of "chick lit" and really, as embarrassing as this should be, I cannot get enough of them.  There isn't much in this world that is more fulfilling than sitting on my porch with a (insert name of favorite summer drink of the moment here) reading a book that I know I will finish in one sitting.  These books tend to have quirky female characters who get caught up in some sort of misadventure that usually involves a hunky cop /  fireman / other man in uniform (which I for one cannot get enough of).  Basically, they're the perfect beach read even if you aren't at the beach.

However, in the last couple of months I have read a number of these books that give me pause and cause me to vent here.

If you've taken the time to write 200 pages and gotten us wrapped up in the mystery and romance, why do you think it's appropriate to wrap up the storyline in a matter of 3 or 4 pages?!  If it was worth taking an entire book to lead up to the climax (literally and figuratively in most cases), what part of the author in your thought you should sum up the who-done-it story and the romantic relationship in a very brief, almost breezy ending?!

I won't share a specific story that does that because that's not the point.  I've read 3 or 4 series - not just individual books, but installments in a series - lately where this is the problem.  Every book leads into this huge climax and then the author gets tired of writing this particular story so they wrap it up in 3 or 4 pages and then expects us to want to keep reading the next book.  Which I suppose works, because usually I'm so confused by the quick wrap up that I end up reading more, hoping it will be explained in the next book.  (It never is, by the way.)

Just a tip to any authors out there reading this: 

Women want to savor things.  We eat ice cream slowly so as to taste every single bite.  We sip fine wine.  We take long, hot bubble bathes and revel in the relaxation.  We like leisurely strolls through the mall. window shopping for things we can never afford. 

We want the same thing in our books.  We lived and breathed the characters right up to the end.  Don't disappoint us by whisking dessert away before we've had time to digest it.

An addendum to the last post...

So I finally finished the Edgar Sawtelle book I mentioned in my last post.  Wow, I shouldn't have spoken so soon.  That book was wonderful until the last 30 pages and it fell flat on it's face.  I can't help but take back my recommendation.  The ending of that book was awful.  Truly awful.

Sad.  I hate when my books disappoint me.

July Has Been a Busy Month

I don't feel like I've given this blog justice lately.  Too often, I get to the end of the day and would rather get home to cuddle the cat, enjoy a beer, and putz with some flowers than sit at work for an extra few minutes to write about something I read last night.  I was afraid of that when I started this blog because I tend to do that.  And I'm afraid I'm boring, but whatever.

The last week has been busy at work.  I've been here for a few months and there are still some things I'm figuring out.  But for some reason, I feel like I'm suddenly expected to know what's going on.  Keeps me on my toes - which I like, for the record.

Last week, my little sis moved to North Carolina.  The family stayed with me on their way through - Abby, Mom & Dad, Abby's boyfriends' parents and two siblings, and Abby's cat Schmoe.  That's a lot of people for a two bedroom apartment but it was wonderful to see everyone.  I've been lonely lately, mostly because I don't have anything better to do at night than go home and do the aforementioned cat-cuddling, beer-drinking, and flower-putzing.  But that being said, it's more wonderful to be able to share the life I'm building here with other people and I certainly don't want to leave anytime soon.

I haven't even been reading all that often.  Too tired at night.  I was trying to get through a book last week about the woman who was the Paraguay-an version of Eva Peron.  Her story was wonderfully scandalous but it should have been a movie.  There were way too many people with the same name and I couldn't keep it straight.  Plus the author is Irish (what is it with me an Irish writers lately?!) but the book was written in such a way that you would never imagine her first language was English.  Had it been a foreign film with subtitles, I would have thoroughly enjoyed myself.  But it's not so fun when an English-language book needs subtitles so you know what the heck was going on.  The title is not even worth mentioning.  If it comes out as a movie, I'll pass along the recommendation!

I've been trying to get into the minds of men lately (mostly because I miss having male friends like I did back in college) so I've been shaking up the movie watching and book reading lately.  I started in on the series Entourage last week and so far have been impressed.  I was told it was the male version of Sex and the City and at first I agreed - which wasn't necessarily a good thing.  The first episode left me shaking my head and wondering why they thought men talked that way.  But after that initial warming up period, it grew on me.  I also started reading a book called Next last week as well about a man who is going through a life crisis but I haven't gotten very far.  I want to give it an honest chance so I just renewed it at the library (like literally just renewed it... It was due today and as I was writing I realized that I really did want to read it) but we'll see.  While in the past, I've found myself drawn more toward men as friends than toward women, I think I'm so jaded lately that I don't care how their minds are working.  Maybe because I'm not convinced that they know how their minds are working. 

If I ever finish that book I'll pass along my recommendation.  Until then, it's home to cuddle with Lady.  Happy Monday!

What Was Lost and Found in a Place Called Here

I feel like I've been writing about a lot of negative things lately.  I don't mean to be a Debby Downer.  Not in the least.  I've just read some not-so-hot books lately.

I just finished What Was Lost by Catherine O'Flynn last weekend.  I really have been on an Irish crime drama kick lately and this one sounded like it fit the bill.  It was about a girl who disappeared and focuses on the main suspects sister.  The plot wasn't awful but it was disjointed (to say the least) and just didn't give me what I wanted.  Funny, because it reminded me a bit of a book I read last winter called There's No Place Like Here.  This book was written by the woman who wrote P.S. I Love You - she's also an Irish writer - and was said to be pretty decent.  Yeah, no.

Both books had great characters, great story lines, and authors who were interesting.  Both left enough to the imagination on the book jacket that they made me actually want to burrow in and read them.  Both left enough to the imagination after I was done reading that I was severely disappointed.

It's never a good thing when you finish a book and think "I need 100 more pages to actually understand what the heck is going on with ANY of these characters."  Authors should leave you thinking "I want 100 more pages because I love these characters" not "... because I don't know these people at all!"

Both books looked at things that were lost and where to find them.  Maybe that's my problem.  Books, like life, can't give you all the answers.  They can't always fulfill you with their characters, just as people can't always fulfill your needs no matter how much you want them to.  Sometimes characters simply don't develop the way the author thought they would - maybe they just aren't as alive as they should be or their story line stopped flat so the book just had to end earlier than the reader wants.  That's the same as any real relationship though.  People sometimes just fall flat.  And really, I've learned in my life that it's worse to keep dragging the narrative out when it has reached its natural end than to just let it go away.  It's not always easy to do this but it's (usually) better in the end.

Instead of complaining about these authors, maybe I should applaud them.  They knew when enough was enough - or did they?  I guess I don't really know.  But considering that I would probably read another book by either author, and I actually would recommend both books if you're looking for a mindless read, I guess it doesn't matter either way.

Revolutionary Boring

Ok, let me take a minute to remind you that I'll read anything.  Well, almost anything.  I especially love books that get good reviews or who have stood the test of time, even if they sound terribly boring.  I think I need to start following my gut and stop reading them just because someone else said they were worth my time.  I guess if I have to listen to someone else to convince my something is wroth my energy, I should know better than to think they are right.

I recently read Revolutionary Road, the "critically acclaimed" book that was made into a movie not long ago.  The movie stars Leonardo DiCaprio and considering I've been crushing on him since middle school, I figured I'd read the book and then get the movie through Netflix. 

Now, I'm sure there are people out there who disagree but I found that book incredibly boring.  Maybe I just don't get it but I thought it was pretty rotten.  It had its moments but I had no trouble putting it down for long stretches of time and only finished it because I have a hard time not finishing books once I've started them.  I got the Netflix dvd earlier this week and unfortunately I feel the same way about the movie.  Actually, I think the movie might be worse.  At least the book was well written even if the characters were pretty flat.  I turned the movie off half way through.  I'll finish it eventually, but considering that it's Netflix so its not due back any time soon, I'll get to it when I get to it.

I'm taking a long weekend this week and I don't want to muck it up with boring movies or books.  I'm in the middle of another boring but praised book, Still Alice, and I refuse to even bring it with me.  Still Alice has an interesting plot - it's about a world-renowned psychologist who is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's - but again, I just knew before I started it that I wouldn't be interested.  I understand why I should read it and like I said, the topic is interesting, but the book is just a pile of mud waiting for me to get through and I'm afraid my emotional and psychological waders just can't hold up.

Maybe I should start trusting my gut before I pick up a book.  I'm sick of getting muck in my boots.  Actually, I'm sick of dealing with muck in my life.  Maybe I should trust me gut when it comes to more than boring books.