The best way to get 20 minutes of quiet time is to put Eva on the floor with a pile of books. She can easily spend an hour throughout the day reading by herself in addition to 20-30 minutes [...]]]> When Eva was a newborn, I worried I didn’t read to her enough. Sometimes I worry excessively.

The best way to get 20 minutes of quiet time is to put Eva on the floor with a pile of books. She can easily spend an hour throughout the day reading by herself in addition to 20-30 minutes we read together.

The book piles in our living room got out of control after our last trip to Seattle (hmm… what a coincidence), so we picked up a bookcase over the weekend. Yesterday I sat Eva on the floor in front of the bookcase, and she knew exactly what to do.

If you want to see more baby reading in action, take a look at our latest video on YouTube. At three minutes it’s a relatively long one, but Eva “dances” during the first minute and “reads” during the second two minutes.

Since I moved in, Matt has occupied four tall bookcases, and one short; I managed to fit into one tall bookcase, plus some treacherous book piles.

No more – [...]]]> When one becomes the second occupant in a small house, she has to fight for real estate. Bathroom cabinet space? Closet space? No, I’m talking about bookshelf space.

Since I moved in, Matt has occupied four tall bookcases, and one short; I managed to fit into one tall bookcase, plus some treacherous book piles.

No more – while preparing for baby, it became urgent that the book piles disappear, along with our guest bed and an extra dresser (we’re donating the latter two items to a local organization called Homestretch).

Last week, I became the proud occupant of two new bookcases in our upstairs hallway – a narrow bookcase outside of the future nursery (below left), and an amazingly tall bookcase outside of our bedroom (below right).

There is nothing more satisfying to my inner geek than moving all of my books around. See how straight the spines are? And how there is empty shelf space for new books?

Not that it will last long – you may note the books on the floor in the photo on the left. We have already purchased a third bookshelf for Matt and his pile of school books which are sitting on the floor of the future nursery. How many bookshelves can we squeeze in before the house collapses?

Up next: two offices become one.

Company of Liars by Karen [...]]]> When the news is to depressing to bear, where does one turn? To the past, naturally. While surveying my LibraryThing account, I noticed I’ve recently toured: the plague years, frontier life, and the Great Depression. For free entertainment that will lift your spirits, head to your local library and pick up:

Company of Liars by Karen Maitland. Run from the plague through post-apocalyptic-like 14th century England. Hard times highlights: sleep outside in the rain, avoid the smell of death, and keep one eye on the living. My full review is here.

The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Laura does not need an introduction, and my first Little House reading as a “grown up” did not disappoint. The writing is simple and detailed; it’s not a coincidence that Ingalls received Newberry Honors for most of her books. Hard times highlights: mill grain with a coffee grinder and twist hay all day to stay alive.

Stormy Weather by Paulette Jiles. Chronicles the coming of age of three sisters during the Great Depression, through the worst of the Texas dust storms. Hard times highlights: make dresses out of sugar sacks and rugs out of pantyhose; get buried alive in a dust storm.

All of these books were well written, riveting reads. I recommend you revisit these lovely time periods, and then turn on present-day news reports and laugh at the doomsday anchors.

I signed up to be an early reviewer for the first time last month, requested a few books, and forgot about it. I never thought [...]]]> A free book arrived on my doorstep a few weeks ago courtesy of LibraryThing and Harper Collins Publishers. What does that mean? It means I am a LibraryThing Early Reviewer!

I signed up to be an early reviewer for the first time last month, requested a few books, and forgot about it. I never thought that out of nearly 1,000 requesters for each book that I would “win” a copy—especially on my first try.

And then—before my free-book joy had a chance to fade—LibraryThing notified me that I won a second review copy.

I’m not satisfied that this review truly captures the novel, and I may go back tweak it if I have an epiphany. But I thought I’d better get something posted to my account or my literary good fortunes might come to an end.

So I give you a review of The Lace Reader, by Brunonia Barry, scheduled for publication in August.

The Lace Reader starts like every good Victorian novel—with a crazy narrator you can’t trust. From there, the beginning starts and stops between Southern California and Salem, Massachusetts. It’s hard to fall into the story for the first few chapters as the author gives too much back story (telling, not showing) and it’s hard to get a grip on protagonist Towner Whitney. The stilted feel returns as the story wraps up.

The plot finds its pace when Towner lands in mid-1990s Salem, complete with fortune telling witches, a homicide detective, a ragged band of Cavlinists, and insane aunts. The broken structure of the book works well, switching between multiple narrators, quotes from “The Lace Reader,” and journal entries.

For most of the of the book, the pages turn themselves in a blend of whodunit and psychological intrigue. Author Brunonia Barry successfully took this linear-minded reader into the world of the insane and brought her back out in one piece. [4 out of 5 stars]

Last time I visited my local library, someone asked me for a recommendation. Today while browsing around Geraldine Brooks* a girl down the aisle from me [...]]]> I promise not to start documenting every trip to the public library because… what better way to lose readers? But I had to write a follow-up post, just this once.

Last time I visited my local library, someone asked me for a recommendation. Today while browsing around Geraldine Brooks* a girl down the aisle from me wiggled a book and said, “This is a good one.”

I swear, I have never had random people talk to me in the library before. And now twice! In a row! So what is it? Do I suddenly look friendly and approachable? Am I losing my steely city face (which never really stopped tourists from asking directions) to suburb life? To top off all the weirdness, I find I kind of like these chatty strangers.

I did consider the recommended book, but when I added it to my pile, I noticed the spine was bright pink, and all the other books I picked out today were black. So I put the cheerful book back on the shelf for another day.

* Author note: I have not read anything by Brooks yet, but she is a fascinating interview and dedicated her latest book to hero-librarians. What’s not to like?

I must have looked like I knew what I was doing, a pile of books under one arm and inspecting the “new books” section with the other, because [...]]]> I was efficiently making the rounds at my neighborhood public library—off-duty, incognito and librarian glasses long gone (lost, sadly)—when a total stranger asked me for a book recommendation.

I must have looked like I knew what I was doing, a pile of books under one arm and inspecting the “new books” section with the other, because a woman walked up to me and said, “I’m trying to get back into reading. Do you have any recommendations? Nothing too heavy.”

Always smooth under pressure (ha!), I immediately drew a blank. All I could think of were the depressing historical fiction books I read where the main character dies at the end (which is all I ever read, according to Matt), or books about the paranormal. And I was not about to recommend some cheesy vampire book to this lady.

The blank mind became stress, and I think my face turned red. The future of this woman’s reading depended on me! If I failed, she would never return to the public library!

I stumbled though a few authors before landing on Jennifer Cruise. She’s safe, not too fluffy chick lit with engaging dialog and unusual characters. Good for someone who isn’t in the swing of things. I spelled out Crusie’s name, then rushed to check out my pile of books and pay my massive fine.

I have since reviewed my LibraryThing catalog, and feel a little better about drawing a blank. I have not read anything “light” in the last year; even the Young Adult and brain-candy books did not have cheerful plot lines. (Aside from Trixie Belden, which I didn’t finish because the perkiness was too much to bear, but I like having her on my bookshelf.)

I think I should start using the tag “sad ending” and see what kind of statistics I come up with. And, when I see that what I read is 95% depressing, I’ll shoot for some cheerful books so I can hold conversations with normal people.

[Click photo to see the big version, which reads: "Jane Austen lived here from 1809-1817 and hence all her works were sent into the world. Her admirers in this country and in America have united to erect this tablet. Such art as hers can never grow old.]

Matt’s grandmother and I visited the [...]]]> And so much more:

[Click photo to see the big version, which reads: "Jane Austen lived here from 1809-1817 and hence all her works were sent into the world. Her admirers in this country and in America have united to erect this tablet. Such art as hers can never grow old.]

Matt’s grandmother and I visited the Jane Austen house in Chawton yesterday. The house was well worth the nearly two hour trip each way, a train from Waterloo to Alton, then a taxi ride.

The trip was made all the longer when we missed our trains both ways. Literally—we walked on the station platform, the train doors closed and the train pulled away. Twice. And then we waited a half hour for the next train. (It was funny by the time we retold it at dinner.)

We made up for our luck on the taxi ride, which worked seamlessly even though there appeared to be one driver working in the town. We got especially lucky on our way back to the train station when our driver turned down two riders during our five minute ride.

The taxi driver was also entertaining—the first thing he said when we requested the ride was, “You know she’s [Jane's] not in, right?”

The house was interesting, full of trinkets, sheet music, and books—it gave a good sense of how the family lived, and I decided Austen had a nice life. (Disclaimer #1: I suspect I would have been partial to spinsterhood had I lived back then. Austen’s sister-in law had 11 children!!)

She was never poor, exhibited signs of independence and rebelliousness (turning down men; having a profession), had strong family ties, and had a relatively decent life span. (Disclaimer #2: I have never read an Austen bio, and may be mixing up some facts here.)

We couldn’t take pictures inside, but the surrounding property was just as fun. Here’s a picture of the “Old Bakehouse.”

The sign on the door said: “Please take care. Beware of Uneven Floor.” Those crazy Brits…

One final, unrelated note: I think I spotted Wallace & Gromit’s neighborhood on the train to Alton. It was pretty foggy, but I would know those houses anywhere.

Jamestown: A Novel by Matthew Sharpe.

This book jumped off the “new” shelf [...]]]> I’ve been looking for a venue to jot down thoughts on the books I read. My reviews don’t fit Amazon or LibraryThing, and both seem like very public places to post. So I decided to post them here, to a comfortably sized audience.

Jamestown: A Novel by Matthew Sharpe.

This book jumped off the “new” shelf and into my arms at my local library. I thought it was a historical look at Jamestown, Virginia, but it turned out to be post-apocalyptic story with historical characters. I suppose the skyscrapers on the cover should have tipped me off.

I like a nice end-of-world-story, so I read it anyway. Or tried to—I made it about halfway through. I love the concept, and really wanted to get sucked in and race to the end, but once Sharpe moved into multiple voices (more than Rolfe and Pocahontas) I lost interest. Despite my failure to finish, I can image others liking the story, so I’ll recommend it.

The Keep by Jennifer Egan

Reviews of this book were not good, and I had fairly low expectations at the beginning. But what a perfect, bizarre story it turned out to be.

The combination of castles, ghosts, prisons, and a cast of unlikable characters ripped me through, and the plot lingered well after I put the book down. The lasting impression was the newness of it all—while Egan used some familiar literary devices, the novel had an element of obscurity that I found pleasing. It twisted, turned, ran off the road and made me cringe, but always in a good way.

If you read The Keep, Diane Rehm’s interview with Egan is worth a listen.