Amaryllis sillyramA

Neptune State Park

Ach, it’s been too long since my last post. Since then we’ve been to the Oregon Coast for a week of excellent family reunioning, and since then we’ve been getting ready to have a house full of guests of our own… somehow I’ve had time to read a few books through it all.

The latest one, and the one that prompted me to get posting: yet another great story from fearless author Christopher Moore, entitled The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove. Two words: weed whacker.

Before that, had a chance to re-read E.B. White‘s Stuart Little, and it was quite enjoyable. I’d forgotten it was a funny book.

And more from Laura Ingalls Wilder — Farm Boy and On the Banks of Plum Creek — courtesy of the lovely Chanzara, of course. I have to say again that I love these books. I will be very sad when I’ve read them all.

While in Oregon, I finally read Stephen Fry‘s first book, The Liar. By a lucky coincidence, on the drive down to the coast we listened to the recent audio production of Douglas Adams‘s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I’d been putting off listening to it, since I haven’t seen the movie yet and didn’t want to ruin it. But I couldn’t resist anymore. See, in this version — unabridged — all the voices are done by Stephen Fry, who is naturally one of my favorites. So by the time we’d arrived, I had many of the characters’ voices planted in my brain, and was able to hear The Liar in Mr. Fry’s voice instead of hearing it in my own boring northwest-no-accent voice. However! Even without the benefit of the accent, it’s a great read, and I’d recommend it to anyone who is a big fan of Stephen Fry’s acting.

And now I’ve started on Bel Canto by Ann Patchett. So far, the style reminds me of Saramago‘s book Blindness, which is strange since I read Blindness as a translated work. Perhaps I am actually reminded of the style of the translator, whoever that may be.

FoundMagazine.com has some amazing stuff on it. The Find of the Week for May 8 is not what you’d expect at first glance:

Yesterday I was sick in bed all day, sleeping some, reading some. Today for a while too. This book is another by Michael Chabon — I still haven’t got to The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay yet, but this other one, Summerland, snuck to the top of the stack and pulled me in. It’s been on my mind all afternoon. It’s definitely on the fantastic side — reminds me of Matt Ruff, sort of — but I certainly don’t mind a little wacky fantasy once in a while.

And there’s baseball in it! I can’t remember the last time I read anything related to baseball. My interest in the game has been waning over the last few years. At least I don’t follow the Mariners the way I used to, and I haven’t been near a sports section in ever so long. But I still love the game, and this book loves it too:

A baseball game is nothing but a great slow contraption for getting you to pay attention to the cadence of a summer day.

That’s so it.

One of the things that really hooked me though: I am afraid of the ball, and so is (was?) one of the people in this book. I would prefer to not be afraid of the ball, but I’ve been that way ever since I was forced to play dodge ball in junior high. For a while in my twenties I tried to play softball, but it was no good, and my teammates had no patience with me. Having that kind of bad experience in common with this character.. hmm, well I suppose I bonded with him more than a little bit.

Anyway, so far it’s a good read, and I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Nicholson Baker
A Box of Matches

Just finished this one again — read it a few months ago, then recently lent it to my mom. After she was done with it and it came time to discuss, I found I couldn’t remember what was in it. But I had enjoyed it so much! It was strange how little I remembered of it, even considering my sketchy memory. So I read it again, and it was just so good.

I honestly don’t know how Mr. Baker did what he did. Between him and Ms. Halliday I think I could learn a thing or two about how to write a book.

For starters, though, I need to get in the habit of writing at the moment the idea occurs. Otherwise I forget what it was I was going to put down. (See sketchy memory.) And then I just get mad, and that’s not good for anyone.

Tonight I went to see Ayun Halliday doing a reading from her new book job hopper. It was great. Last time I went to anything reading-y was a few years ago (when the Found Magazine folks came through town). So it’s not often I drag myself out of my routine for something like this. Ah, but it was just great. And meeting her after, oh I was so nervous, could almost not talk at all, nearly lost it in fact. Because she is a fearless writer and I admire her so much.

Then, to help myself stop shaking, I went downstairs and picked out a new fountain pen — a nifty transparent one from Lamy. Yay!