War & Peace, Whale Hunting, and Other Endurance Sports

Greetings, fellow readers! I am back after a brief hiatus from life: those of you who read my blog regularly will remember that I last wrote while ill with a sore throat. Apparently, I had some kind of chest cold virus which not only made it difficult to breathe, but also spread to my eyes, rendering them swollen, red, and alas, unable to read. This germ knocked me out of commission for about five days; today is my first full day back in the land of the living. I wish I could say my illness represented some kind of literary journey to the underworld and back, or that my temporary eye trouble drew my attention to my own metaphorical blindness; however, my life is not a book, so my sickness lacks any poetic significance.

As fellow book-lovers, I'm sure you've all thought about what reading you'd do if you were ill, not so ill as to be in any real danger, but ill enough that you'd have to stay in bed for an extended period of time. I once read a customer review on Audible written by a woman who was prescribed bed rest after having surgery. She chose to utilize her time by reading War and Peace as an audio book, though I can't help but wonder whether it was a good idea for her to mix Tolstoy with Percocet--from what I've heard of his writing, it demands full lucidity.

Anyway, it got me thinking about those books we approach as textual Mount Everests, the extreme sports of the literary arena. There are the classic tomes that everyone talks about but few have read, such as Moby Dick and War and Peace, but there are other, slimmer volumes which look deceptively simple, yet are about as tricky as navigating through quicksand in the Fire Swamp. I came across a list of "50 Incredibly Tough Books for Extreme Readers" and was surprised to learn that I had read more than I thought. Four out of fifty is not bad; others of these are on my "To Read" list. I'll post some short blurbs of the books I have read, then copy the link below so you can see how many you've read.

First is To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. I tried reading this book on my own and gave up halfway through, but returned to it as required reading for my Science and Literature class last spring. I ended up reading it multiple times for our class discussion; it's definitely a book which rewards re-reading. With this one, I found it helped to talk through the text in class. It made it much easier to keep track of the stream of consciousness narration, and reading the book in an academic setting allowed us to analyze the themes in more depth than I would have done on my own.

Conclusion: unless you have a Mrs. Ramsay to guide your vision, you won't make it to the lighthouse with James and Cam.

Next is Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. I know of only two other people who have read this book, which may surprise you when you see how short it is. This one is tough not in the sense that it is difficult to read, but in that it's a highly disturbing story. This book has haunted me ever since I read it as a junior in high school. My history professor mentioned it casually in class, and I thought it would be easy to get through in an afternoon. I was wrong--I am still working through this book and thinking about the weighty questions of war, ethics, and suicide it poses.

Conclusion: getting through it is not hard, but unless you have some way to communicate your experience of reading this book, you may be trapped in the same despair as the main character.

Then there's Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I know a lot of people who dislike this book. I love it, and, ironically, didn't find it difficult to read. It's a critique of imperialism written as densely as the jungles of Belgium's African colonies and a classic modernist text that inspired the 1979 movie "Apocalypse Now." I read it while on my way to a funeral several hours from my home, and I couldn't put it down. I think everyone should read this book.

Conclusion: if the malaria doesn't get to you, the spiritual malaise will. You have been warned of the horror ahead.

Finally, there's The Castle, by Franz Kafka. I also read this book for my Science and Literature class, and for a time, it held the dubious honor of being my Most Hated Book. Kafka left off writing it halfway through the last sentence, for crying out loud! I was infuriated that he couldn't be bothered to finish the book, and I found the villagers' provincial and bureaucratic customs annoying in the extreme. However, after reading the book multiple times for discussion and sharing some very interesting thoughts on the castle itself as a singularity (yes, we're talking black holes now), the book grew on me. Now I'm taking a Kafka seminar in the spring--Kafka would be so proud.

Conclusion: as Kafka himself said, there is an infinite amount of hope, but not for us. Once you accept this, you can laugh and get on with the rest of the book.

Now I'm interested to know which of these extreme books you've read and what you thought of them. Let me know in the comments! My money is on Ed Turner, fellow bibliophile and blogger, to have read the most of those on the list.

50 Extreme Books

The Author with Max Brooks

Zombies and Dimes

Greetings, fellow readers! This week has been a somewhat difficult one for me personally--I have come down with some horrible sore throat disease of death--but wonderful in terms of my Shelf Life. Let me explain . . .

Today I returned to the Friends of the Library sale for their ten cent day, an event which I had the pleasure of experiencing for the first time with my friend Tia, a fellow student and Quidditch player here at UF. Between the two of us, we ended up buying 48 books! (In case you're reading this, Mom, don't worry--they're small, and I promise to donate more of mine to the Book Crossing bag so I don't hog all the space.) The selection today was much worse than it was on Saturday; it was rather like picking through the leftovers of a town that had already been plundered and pillaged. I ended up with some ridiculous fantasy paperbacks with titles like The Prince of Whales and I Heard the Owl Call My Name to match my Silly Sci-Fi Stack--I'm sensing a mini-collection here--and a few classic lit paperbacks that hadn't been snatched up by students looking for cheap textbooks. Tia also found me a pocket-sized volume called A Little Coffee Cookbook, which promises to teach me how to make such treats as coffee and ginger souffle and coffee banana bread. This could be lethal . . .

By this time, my throat had reached the Point of Unendurable Agony, so I crawled into bed for a few hours' sleep before . . .

Going to hear Max Brooks, author of World War Z and The Zombie Survival Guide, speak at the student union!

I went with my boyfriend, Jacob, and friends Haley and Lexi. We're all big fans of the books, and Haley and I both play Humans vs. Zombies on campus, which is more like glorified tag than surviving the apocalypse, but still. Mr. Brooks gave a talk and then answered questions from the audience. I asked him what his zombie melee weapon of choice is, and he said a crowbar. He went on to explain that weapon choice is also a question of environment: he's from Los Angeles, and therefore has crowbars in case of earthquakes, as well as zombie outbreaks, though he said since I'm from Jacksonville, I might prefer a machete. He signed my copies of his books and was gracious enough to pose for a picture, which I will post as soon as I get it uploaded.

Now that my bookish adventures are complete, I'm off to bed with some hot tea and a new novel. If I'm going to be sick, I'm at least going to be well-read as I cough to death!

Until next time,

Anna

Book Sales and Bagpipes

Greetings, fellow readers! There are few things in life that will get me out of bed at five o'clock on a Saturday morning--I am a college student, after all--but the semi-annual Friends of the Library book sale in Gainesville is one of them. This was my third time going to the book sale, but my first time camping out in line to get in. I went with my friends Alex and Ashlyn, and we began by fortifying ourselves with Dunkin' Donuts coffee and breakfast sandwiches. We left campus at 5:30 AM and got to the book sale an hour before sunrise. As we waited for the doors to open, we chatted and shivered under a nest of blankets and quilts.

By 8:30, a sizable queue snaked along the driveway and around the block. We stretched our muscles, stiff from sitting on the cold ground, and started planning which tables to visit first once we got inside.

Finally, the doors opened, and we rushed into the building to the tune of "Scotland the Brave," courtesy of a local bagpiper. I went straight to the science fiction section, then looped around to literature and topped off my stack with a Spanish edition of Shakespeare's sonnets (yes, I can read Spanish, for those of you pondering the utility of such a book.)

 I think this stack will make a nice addition to my ever-growing library, which is now nearing 700 volumes. And now, dear readers, if you'll excuse me, the rest of my Saturday is booked: I have a lot of reading to do!

Until next time,

Anna

P.S. If you haven't been to the book sale and want to go, don't despair! It's going on through Wednesday, and there's a ten cent day where all books go for a dime. I highly recommend you take a trip downtown, if you can; this fall's selection is really good.

Comfort Books

Greetings, fellow readers! Today is just one of those days when the universe decides to make life difficult. I got caught in the sprinklers (twice), my shoes rubbed bloody blisters onto the backs of my heels, and I didn't get home until ten o'clock tonight. Everybody else is suffering the post-midterm blues and the attendant slough of colds, viruses, and existential crises. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm riding the Struggle Bus or falling off the back!

The Struggle Bus

So, like any self-respecting book lover, I decided to park myself at Pascal's Coffeehouse for several hours of reading and studying. Alas, I was unable to partake of any of the delicious teas and coffees for sale there because I'm flat broke--at this point in the day, the back wheel had fallen off the Struggle Bus--but my dear friend Jordan was kind enough to share a spinach croissant with me. We got to talking, as we often do, about books.

There are some books that are the literary equivalent of mom's homemade mac-and-cheese or grandma's famous chocolate chip cookies--you know what I'm talking about. I call them comfort books, and if ever there was a day for comfort books, it is today. For Jordan, these books are the works of Jane Austen. For my roommate, Allison, these are the Harry Potter series. For me . . . well, I tend to read books that are ponderous and depressing (I am taking two Holocaust classes this fall and a Kafka seminar in the spring), but I've had enough of that for a while. And so I implore you, dear readers, recommend me some comfort books! Share your favorites, comment with the books you turn to to get through difficult times. Help a fellow bibliophile off the Struggle Bus and onto the bookmobile. I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with.

Until next time,

Anna

"Here's my comfort."

Greetings, fellow readers! Today brings us to another new type of reading: script reading for a play. As some of you know, I am involved with UF's Shakespeare in the Park. We are a student run organization that mounts a full outdoor production of a Shakespeare play every spring in UF's Plaza of the Americas. We make all of our own costumes and sets, and we rehearse all year leading up to the performance.

This year, the play is The Tempest, which is interpreted variously as Shakespeare's autumnal work, a commentary on colonialism, and a dreamlike story which takes place only in the main character's mind.

I got cast as Stephano, the drunken butler. At first, I wasn't sure what to make of this part: on the surface, Stephano's just a giddy clown, but after reading over the play again, I found out he's more than that. He's a character who's been shipwrecked, who hides a kind of merry sadness beneath his drunkenness. He constantly turns to his wine bottle and says, "Here's my comfort," after moments of introspection and meditation. He's an entertaining character, but he's pensive, too.

It made me think of other characters in literature, such as Jamei Lannister or Severus Snape, who are often misunderstood by readers and other characters . . . until we discover more about them. They are problematic, complex figures who do not offer us easy answers because they straddle the boundary between good and evil, right and wrong. They are great characters not because they are heroes or villains, but because they are human, and we see ourselves in them. We identify with their struggles, their desire to do good. We suffer with them when they fail because in their failures, we see our own.

As my mom once said, "We can't all be a Gandalf or an Aragorn, but we can be a Boromir." It is the broken and flawed characters who are our portals into the world of the story. They are us, failing when we try our utmost to succeed. Their tragedy is ours, and our story is theirs.

I hope you all will come to the play in March. You'll see me play a drunken butler. I hope you'll laugh, but I also hope you'll think about what you see onstage. To be human is to be flawed, but it is also to strive, to reach beyond who we are now in the hope of brushing a fingertip against the cloak of greatness.

Until next time,

Anna

A New Leaf (pun intended!)

Greetings, fellow readers! As some of you know, I have long resisted the encroachment of Kindles, Nooks, and other pernicious e-readers upon my reading domain, but tonight marks the moment of my conversion: I have downloaded the Kindle reading app onto my computer so I can read a book published only as a Kindle single. The story:

Ajax Penumbra 1969 by Robin Sloan

Those of you who have been following my blog will no doubt recall my review of Mr. Sloan's novel Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, which I read over the summer. This short story is a prologue in which we are introduced to Penumbra and Corvina as young students, and to al-Asmari, their teacher and owner of the 24-hour bookstore.

While I was excited to hear that Sloan had written a prequel, I have mixed feelings about the quality of the work as a whole. On the one hand, the writing is awkward and lacks the narrative flow of the novel, hitting its stride only about halfway through, which, for a Kindle short, is too late. Penumbra and Corvina's "National Treasure"-esque quest to recover a lost book is not a well-developed plot, though I could see shades of a Dumbledore vs. Grindelwald clash of wills in the relationship between the young men. Other characters from the novel make cameo appearances, but the most interesting figure is the enigmatic al-Asmari. Through this character, Sloan gives us a window into the 24-hour bookstore as a tradition, a legacy passed down from teacher to student. And who wouldn't love a man whose recommended reading list includes Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? and "a copy of Through the Looking Glass with a slightly psychedelic cover"?

Though Ajax Penumbra 1969 did not quite live up to my expectations, I enjoyed it for what it was. Sloan has the ability to create an immersive "bookiverse," and I hope he will continue to write. We must remember that Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore started out as a Kindle short, also. I did not read it because I choose to read only the final version of the book, the finished product rather than the work in progress, because that is what the author presents as the definitive story, but perhaps Sloan will work Penumbra 1969 into a more fully developed sequel.

Final thoughts: I read this story as a member of a cult following, and on an electronic device to boot. My love of books combined with my use of technology is making me consider new methods of reading and literary analysis. I think Mr. Penumbra would be proud.

Festina lente,
Anna

Gray Day

Gray day. Everything is gray. I watch. But nothing moves today.

It's that time of year, fellow readers. The equinoctial storm is upon us, and today I want nothing more than to retreat into a fortress of blankets, drink hot black tea, and read my book. It doesn't matter what the book is: any story will do as long as I don't have to get out of bed.

Unfortunately, my college courses have other plans. I have an essay on the poems of Robert Browning, a midterm analysis of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and a stack of reading looming as large as the battalions of iron gray nimbus clouds on the horizon. Now I know exactly how Aragorn felt at the Battle of Helm's Deep!

I'm sure that you, too, know these days, the kind you wish you could fast forward through until the sun starts shining again. In the meantime, my books will be a light for me in dark places, when all other lights go out, as Galadriel said to Frodo. I may not possess the light of the elves' most beloved star, but I do have my stories to keep the gloom and thunder at bay.

Until next time,

Anna

When one book closes . . .

Greetings, fellow readers!

This past week, I've been thinking a lot about those Big Life Changes that we all must go through but that as a college student, I seem to be encountering more frequently than the national average. Change is good, but it's also scary. Whether willing or unwilling, we all have to go through change; it's how we grow. If we're lucky, we have good friends to help us through.

That being said, I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed this evening, as all productive college students do on Sundays when they should be doing homework, when I came across a photo posted by Toad Hall Bookstore. The caption read, "When one book closes, another one opens. Sometimes I don't even wait that long." Once again, a simple observation from a fellow book lover turned out to be a profound metaphor for life (or at least my life!)

Well, I hear you saying, that's all deep and philosophical, but what about the book? Never fear, gentle readers, for the book is one which many of you have read and most of you have heard of:

A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin.

I was introduced to the HBO series last spring by someone who is very dear to me, and the engaging storyline and immersive world of Westeros helped me through a very difficult time. No matter how bad things got, I knew I always had another life I could go to, one involving dragons, magic, and a cast of characters who, though they often fail, are for the most part loyal to their friends.

It's a brand new semester now, complete with a whole new set of changes, challenges, and celebrations. Though I feel a lot more sure of myself, I still have many questions, so what did I do? I turned once again to the imaginary life I learned to love this spring, only this time, I got in the old-fashioned way: through a paper and ink portal. As I read the story which is already familiar to me, I find myself thinking more and more about the characters in relation to the people in my own life. I think of my mom and how I see so much of her bravery and endurance in Catelyn Stark, of my friend Jordan and how she admires Arya's determination and audacity. I think of Jacob, whose insights are as penetrating as Tyrion Lannister's, and of my fellow Quidditch player, Jared, whose optimism and sense of humor mirror those of Robb Stark in the first chapters of the book.

They say a Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is a dull affair; they also say that fiction is the lie that tells the truth. The characters I have met in Game of Thrones all remind me of people I have encountered in life. Some of them have been good friends, some enemies, but they have all changed me, shaped me, and made me who I am today. I know that no matter what I go through in life, I will always have friends, both fictional and non, that I can fall back on. These people are my teachers, advisors, companions, and playmates. They've helped me on my path through life, and they continually challenge me to grow and become a better person.

So, these are my final thoughts for you: don't be afraid to make that leap, to pick up that book and read a new story or write one of your own. I'm not just talking about your Shelf Life, I'm talking about your life here and now. Be like Daenerys and take control of your destiny, or like Tyrion and use your strengths to your advantage. Learn from your friends, stick to your guns, and remember: a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.

Until next time,
Anna

Welcome Back!

Greetings, fellow readers, and happy Labor Day! After a (much too long) hiatus, I am back to blogging. Don't think that while my internet presence has lain idle my reading life has ground to a stop; on the contrary, I read (and bought) more books this summer than I have in years.

This summer, I got to fulfill my lifelong dream of studying abroad at Cambridge University in England. Between tea, bookstores, and outdoor Shakespeare festivals, this girl was in heaven! There was so much to love about England, but one of my favorite memories is of a quiet Sunday afternoon in London when I walked from Russel Square and the British Museum (near Virginia Woolf's old haunts) to Charing Cross Road and Foyle's, the greatest bookstore I have ever set foot in. Picture three stories of books in every language on every imaginable subject, add to that a near-religious sense of awe and wonder, then throw in the heady intoxication brought on by the smell of fresh paper and ink, and what do you get? A bona fide case of what super-librarian Nancy Pearl would call Book Lust. Let me tell you, I had it bad!

Two and a half hours later, I staggered out of Foyle's with enough books to sink a battleship and a smile wide enough to build a bridge across the English Channel. I began reading my treasures that night, and, I'm happy to say, I'm still reading them.

Though I read a superhuman amount over the summer, one book stands out above the rest:

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

Thanks to my very excellent mother, who, upon realizing that I had over 24 hours worth of air travel in store, granted me uninhibited access to her Audible account, I boarded the plane departing the U.S. with the tale of Clay Jannon, graphic designer turned bookstore night clerk, and his band of sometimes eccentric, always adventurous friends loaded onto my iPod. Clay discovers that the bookstore where he works is actually part of an international secret society known as the Unbroken Spine. With the help of his friends, Neel and Kat, he works at the crossroads of books and technology to unlock the mysteries of the coded volumes housed within the store.

This book has it all: dragons, Google, immortality, and a quirky cast of characters who charm their way into your heart. The story itself is flawed--the narrative loses focus in the middle chapters and is weakened by an unnecessary epilogue--but by the time I realized this, I was too caught up in the story to stop.

If this isn't enough incentive for you to read it, the book glows in the dark. Seriously. This is even more awesome once you read the book and realize the significance of the illuminated shelves.

I listened to Mr. Penumbra twice over the summer and would recommend it to anyone who loves books about books.

That's all I have for now; stay tuned for more Shelf Life and literary adventures in the new school year!

Happy reading,

Anna

Do You Hear the People Sing?

Greetings, fellow readers! I have some exciting news to share with you: after weeks of confusion and miscommunication, my copy of Les Mis has finally arrived! In between homework, Quidditch tournaments, and the zombie apocalypse (such is the life of a college student!), I managed to get some reading done.

First, let me warn you that this novel is not for the faint of heart: it clocks in at a daunting 1,463 pages and is roughly the size and weight of a large brick. If this book is a literary marathon, then I've only run the first mile. That being said, it was a great first mile!

(Spoiler Alert: I'm assuming you've seen the movie/play or have at least a rudimentary knowledge of the story.) I didn't realize this, but Jean Valjean doesn't even show up until Book II (just after the first mile marker.) Book I is entirely devoted to the backstory of the bishop who gives Valjean shelter and, ultimately, his precious silver candlesticks. This might be tedious for some, but I take a perverse pleasure in the density and obsucrity of sweeping Victorian novels, so I enjoyed it thoroughly.

It's been a while since I read a French novel in translation--I'd forgotten how much I love the quality they have that carries over even when the words are put into English. If you read novels in translation, you'll understand what I mean when I say there's something different about a novel that's been translated from, say, French than one that was originally written in English.

In the translator's note, the translator makes a compelling argument for presenting Les Mis in its unabridged form, and I'd like to share it with you:

"While several abridged editions exist in English, that expedient seems a mistake. It is almost impossible to predict the individual detail, the flashing image or human quirk precisely observed, that will burn its way into a reader's mind for good. The sound solution is to honor the author's wishes. If the heightened rhetoric of elation and despair occasionally strains our patience or credulity, the quiet perception on the next page generally restores it."

I will leave you with that thought, fellow readers,

Until next time,
Anna

The Pleasures of Being Read To

Hello, fellow readers! This post is going to take a little work on your part, so get ready!

I want you to close your eyes and remember the last time someone read out loud to you. Maybe it was when one of your parents or grandparents read you a bedtime story, or when you listened to someone read a poem aloud in class. Maybe you listened to an audiobook or simply read aloud to yourself. My point is, some stories just beg to be read aloud, and when we read to someone or listen to someone else read to us, we create a special kind of literary memory.

I remember when I was little, I was sick with the flu, and my mom stayed up with me through the chills and stomach cramps and read to me from The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder. To this day, I cannot think of that book without remembering how she helped me through my illness merely with the sound of her voice and words on a page.

Sadly, reading aloud fades into the background as we grow older and learn to read on our own. We forget about the sounds of words, their tones and inflections. We forget to share our stories with other people. So today, I want you all to do something for me: pick up a book and read aloud. You can read to someone, have someone read to you, or read for yourself--it doesn't matter. The important thing is to read out loud. Listen to the words, savor them, linger over them. Appreciate their music, the cadence of the voice as it breathes life into a quiet chrysalis of words. Give your mind the freedom to sing and dance as you enjoy the exquisite pleasure of reading aloud.

Until next time,

Anna

By Choice or by Chance

Greetings, fellow readers! I'm taking advantage of the long weekend to post an update on the shelf life here at school. Since the semester started, my answer to "What have you been reading lately?" has been "My Chemistry textbook!" more often than not, but it's not exactly the most scintillating of reads. My answer did, however, make me think about the books I've been reading lately: which ones have been required reading, and which have been for fun. I decided to divide them into two categories, Books by Choice and Books by Chance, so here they are:

Books by Choice:

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. This one made the rounds of my group of friends last weekend; we passed it back and forth during a car trip to St. Augustine. This chilling femenist short story is remeniscent of Edgar Allan Poe in its horrifying style yet closer to Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale it its treatment of women's imprisonment. Great for provoking discussion!

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. I've been meaning to read this one for a while, and one of my friends here finally convinced me to start. That being said, I haven't gotten very far into it, but I like it so far.

Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman. This was one of my favorite books in middle school, all about a girl growing up in the middle ages and trying to resist her family's attempts to marry her off. I picked it up again this morning and found myself smiling as I remembered what it was like to read it for the first time.

The Uncommon Appeal of Clouds by Alexander McCall Smith. The latest installment in the Isabel Dalhousie series proved just as delightful and comforting as its predecessors. I finished this one during the first week of school, and Mc Call Smith's gentle and thought-provoking writing provided me with a welcome antidote to long hours of studying in the library.

Books by Chance:

Chemistry and Physics textbooks are both self-explanatory and not very exciting to talk about, so I'll gloss over those and to straight into

Selected Poems and Four Plays by William Butler Yeats, ed. M. L. Rosenthal. The first of nine poets we're studying in my 20th Century British Poetry class, Yeats also happens to be one of my favorites. His lyricism and sense of rhythm are like music to my ears, and we even listened to some musical adaptations of Yeats in class: proof that art begets art.

A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking and To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. I've been reading these for a class on Science and Literature. The structure of this class is unique in that we're reading scientific texts in conjunction with (instead of opposed to or isolated from) great literary works of the 20th century. This approach has yielded many fruitful readings for me, especially of my favorite peom, T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, which we discussed in class last week. More on our discussions in a later post.

And now for the Les Mis update: I ordered my copy through Amazon, but unfortunately, the seller had not refreshed their stock listings, and so the order didn't actually go through. I'm going to try again this weekend, as we are now halfway through January, and I still haven't started on my New Year's resolution book.

One final note before I go: one of the used bookstores on campus went out of business this week, and they had a sale of all their stock. Everything was marked down to as little as ten cents a book, and I got ten books and a record for $2.76. Among the titles were The Unnatural History of the Nanny, The Mennonites Among Us, and an advance reading copy of Bliss, which is about a family who lives in a magical bakery. I'm very much looking forward to starting them and sharing my thoughts with you.

Until next time,

Anna

Once upon a time . . .

Once upon a time, there was a girl who never made New Year's resolutions . . . until now. Welcome! I'm Anna, and this year, I've resolved to start writing a blog. Finally! It's something I've wanted to do for years. I'm calling it Shelf Life because I spend most of my time prowling bookshelves, hunting for good, satisfying stories. This blog, like my own bookshelves, will address diverse, eclectic topics and hopefully lead you to discover some new favorite books of your own.

Now it's time for the all-important question: what have I been reading lately? As a busy college student, I haven't had a lot of time for "fun" reading (as opposed to required reading, which can be fun in its own way, but that's a post for another time.) However, I have had a lot of time to read over the Christmas break.

I began with revisiting some of my high school favorites (Piper Bank's Geek series; Ann Brashares's Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants), progressed to Kathryn Lasky's Wolves of the Beyond series, and finished vacation off with Charles Finch's A Death in the Small Hours, the latest installment in his Charles Lenox mystery series set in Victorian England. It's one of my favorites, and you'll hear all about it in time.

Thanks to my generous friends and family, I was able to conduct a successful post-Christmas raid on our local Barnes and Noble and came away loaded with enough steampunk fiction and science books to last me through March. Between those and the books I received as gifts and loans, I'm booked until Easter at least!

As far as I'm concerned, though, The Book of 2013 is Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. You see, it's a most unusual year in that I made not one, but two New Year's resolutions: one is to write this blog, the other to read Les Miserables. As a singer, I'm in love with the musical--I've seen it live and went to the recent movie adaptation with my family on Christmas Day--but I've never read the book, so I decided that this is The Year to read The Book. I'll keep you updated on my progress, once I get ahold of a copy of The Book, that is!

Until next time,
Anna