Wealth, Entitlement, Human Condition

The back of this book doesn't do the story inside justice. It's difficult, though, to write an accurate synopsis, review or even publicity teaser for this book without giving anything away. This is the type of story that should be discovered by the reader as it unfolds. To elude to the deeper experiences of the protagonist's life would be to cripple the reader and jeopardize her enjoyment.

I apologize for the cryptic review. If you're still waffling about reading this book, consider this: it contains witty prose and dialogue throughout--the author presents a never-flagging, continuous onslaught of salacious phrasing and pithy observations. It also explores family dynamics, the mantel of privilege and celebrity, travel, war, death and bravery. Most of it takes place on Martha's Vinyard and the East Coast.

Enjoy the ride.

Paper vs. Screen

I love paper. Books, calendars, cards, maps, files, cardstock, vellum, grid paper, plain paper, colored paper. I love its smoothness and openness, its readiness to transform into something different, according to my imagination. Its ability to fold and hold a new shape. Its scent. I have a whole closet dedicated to paper and rubber stamps, waiting for my next creative urge to overtake me and compel me to dig out ribbons, glitter, glue and ink and paper, wonderful paper.

My husband knows I love paper, and he knows I love to read. Books, that is. I'm not much of a news follower (too depressing) and I only subscribe to a select number of magazines (fewer than 3!), which I peruse noncommitally each month. He also knows I love gadgets of the elctronic persuasion, so he bought me a Kindle. I've been salivating over the Kindle for months now--since it first came out--but was reluctant to put my money on something that would actually decrease my contact with paper books. It doesn't smell like a book; it doesn't rest in one hand like a book (no binding); and you can only loan titles for a specific amount of time to friends' Kindles.

However, the Kindle has several redeeming characteristics I am obliged to illuminate:
1. The screen does resemble ink on a page (they aren't exaggerating--it's amazing how real it looks)
2. The Kindle retains your place--no bookmark needed. It will retain your place in all of the books or periodicals you open and begin reading.
3. The classics are free--ever wish you'd read Charles Dickens? Leo Tolstoy? Jane Austen? They're all here, and they're all free. Everything published before 1923 is free.
4. The reader controls the font size. That's right--no more squinting at tiny font or wearing yourself out flipping pages with large print!
5. It keeps your books organized in categories, named by you, so you can easily find them again. Or you can leave them listed willy-nilly on the screen, in the order in which they were purchased, if that is your style.
6. It's easier to read in low light. A light is necessary--it can't be read under the covers or anything--but it's slightly brighter than a real page.
7. The Kindle book store never closes and boasts most titles at the ready for downloading at a moment's notice or a reader's whim.
8. I almost forgot about the free samples--just like a book store, you can browse a selection for free by downloading a free sample of the first few pages of a book before deciding whether or not to purchase the whole thing.

So, if you've been considering a Kindle, take the risk! Don't be afraid. It makes a great traveling companion.

An Irresistible Story

Remember Home Ec class? In addition to learning how to maintain a home and prepare meals and desserts, students had to care for a simulated baby for a week or two. The baby might be an egg, a doll or even just a journal in which each action could be recorded, but the general principle and restrictions of adult responsibility were thus taught and (hopefully) learned. Imagine having a practice baby: a real live, human bundle of squalling, demanding responsibility counting on college students for basic survival and nurture. This is the premise of The Irresistible Henry House by Lisa Grunwald, based on a real program run in the 50's and 60's at certain Midwest colleges or universities.

Henry House, the main character, is the practice baby who remained to be raised by the house mother and subsequent students, and this is the story of his development and the effects of enjoying the attentions of multiple mothers while forming an attachment to no one.

So far, three Bookworms have read this book and we predict it will earn the Bookworms Anonymous Stamp of Approval. Watch the website for news in the next few months: http://www.bookwormsanonymous.com/

Bookworms Anonymous Meeting

We enjoyed yet another successful Bookworms Anonymous Meeting the other night--Christine is cooking her way through a cookbook called Vegetarian Traditions and she prepared and served a four-star meal, with Almond-Crusted Tofu appearing as the celebrity.

To read about the meeting itself and our fabulous group of seven readers, check out the website www.bookwormsanonymous.com and go to the page "News and Events". To see which books are touring through the club right now, click on the page "What We're Reading" (I know, you'd have figured that one out, but I didn't want you to miss it!).

Winter is knocking on our door now, so it's time to prepare for hibernation. Luckily I have a grand collection of books to keep me sane, or at least as close as possible, and we have one more Bookworms Anonymous meeting scheduled before Christmas to anticipate and enjoy.

Memorable Memoirs

I just finished reading two memoirs, each one interesting and completely different from the other. The first one I read was Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs by Heather Lende, which takes place in Haines, Alaska. We just returned from a visit to Haines in August, and I bought this book as a gift for my friend who was taking good care of my dog while we traveled. We frequently buy each other books so we can swap them at the next Bookworms Anonymous meeting, which is how I came to read this one (www.bookwormsanonymous.com). Heather recounts her life-threatening, life-altering, life-affirming accident and her rescue and recovery, as well as other events over the span of about two years, sharing her daily life, funny and sad moments and her spiritual growth. She depicts her small, friendly town well--I felt like I was there again and longed to return, to meet more people and maybe even meet Heather at the Mountain Market for a cup of coffee.


After Heather's spirit-lifting tale I began reading At Least in the City Someone Would Hear Me Scream by Wade Rouse. This hilarious tale takes place in southern Michigan, near the Saugatuck-Douglas area, and it's about Wade's and his partner Gary's quest to live a Thoreau-esque life by leaving behind all of their "urban tchotchke" and living the simple life in a cabin in the woods. Wade's recounting of their adventures in WalMart and gardening and his descriptions of everything from the locals' appearances and attitudes to his own wardrobe had me laughing out loud. Gary channels Lucy Ricardo, seeking guidance on social etiquette and expectations. He intersperses his own tale with passages from Thoreau's Walden, and shares some of his childhood angst and the challenges and prejudice he faced growing up gay. I recommend this to anyone who needs a good belly laugh--it's like a sitcom in print.

The $4.99 mood lifter

If anyone out there still doesn't own an Easy button from Staples, it's time to drive to your nearest Staples (I drove all the way to Grand Rapids, 5 hours each way, so don't try to say you don't have one close enough) and buy one. Better yet, buy a couple in case your friend/enemy/babysitter/accountant/co-worker/mailman/telephone repairman/step-cousin-in-law needs one too. Whoever invented this button deserves a huge bonus and a large raise for brightening up millions of people's lives with the simple three word phrase "that was easy".

For those of you not in the know, the Easy button is a large red button, attractive and friendly in a technologically keen way, sitting anywhere you might need it, that, when pressed, states in a matter-of-fact masculine voice, "that was easy". The button begs to be pressed, performs every time on time, and does so in a consistently cheerful manner. It's fun, it's functional and it's cheap humor therapy.

We were discussing the merits of the Easy button at work the other day when someone said, "boy, it's not very often you hear that phrase anymore. Everything is becoming more and more difficult." I told him, "you need a button. That's the whole point--stop seeing the difficulty in everything and embrace the easy tasks!" Any large, difficult task can be broken down into small steps--the more difficult the task, the more steps--but each time a small step is completed, it merits a pressing of the Easy button. Hence, the more difficult the task, the more times you get to hear "that was easy" so the easier it is! Everyone needs one of these things. Even if a task is truly difficult, once it's over, it's no longer difficult because it's completed. Time to press the button. Go ahead, it's free (the 4 AA batteries last a llloooonnnggg time). Press it twice. That was easy.

Whose Dictionary Are You Using?

I attended a seminar yesterday in which the facilitator used the word 'profusively' five times. We were updating our CPR training, and the question was: "if you happen upon a scene were a victim is bleeding profusively, what do you do?" I thought: before or after I correct his grammar? Oh, wait, bleeding is more important than made-up words. Then I thought: Incorrect syntax is preventable, correctable and curable. After performing CPR and saving the profusively bleeding victim's life, I can then offer some grammar lessons. I'm sure the victim would be grateful, or at least willing to listen out of a sense of guilt or courtesy. Next time the victim would bleed profusely and I wouldn't be distracted.

Another of my pet peeve made-up words is supposably. How did this happen? There's no ab! It's an ed. It's actually easier to pronounce it correctly, supposedly, than it is to replace ed with ab. I guess this one isn't technically a made-up word, it's just crippled by BPS, Bastardized Pronunciation Syndrome. It's a common affliction for sesquipedalian words.