How I read, let me count the ways....

Observing the pile of books on the night stand this morning made me think of all the reasons that I read and how each of the books in the pile serve a different reading purpose.  First there is The Almond Picker, a book for enjoyment. This story takes place in Sicly during the months of September and October of 1963. I'm a little more than half way through and it proving to be an unexpected pleasure. The plot revolves around a woman with the nickname of Mennulara, "the almond picker," who has died in the very first paragraph of the first chapter. Since then Mennulara's character and life story has been revealed to me through the myriad of perspectives held by the people of her village. There's a mystery involved in all of it and the clues are being dropped one by one. I look forward to the denouement when all will be made clear.

Second in the pile is The Gifts of Imperfection: Let go of who you think you're supposed to be and embrace who you are (whew, some title). I read for self discovery, self improvement, for healing, and spiritual development.  In these months following my father and great aunt's deaths, I have explored what various authors have had to say on grief and identity. Then there is the fact that I have reach that time in life (yes middle age is upon me) when one is reflecting on where one has been and where will one go from here. I'm about three quarters through this book and love the fact that I am not alone going through this process, the author and the many subjects that she interviewed as part of her research have all blazed the path ahead of me. Lesson learned, or rather re-learned in a recent chapter is the practice of gratitude and the impact it can have in your life. I'm grateful to be reminded that there are pieces of joy spread all around me I but have to look.

Lastly in the pile is The Poisoner's Handbook:Murder and the birth of forensic medicine in Jazz Age New York. Strange you may think, but hey I'm a nerd at heart. I read to learn, to keep up to date in science, and to teach. I'm always on the look out to find ways to connect the science curriculum I teach to the "real world." I try to find ways to answer the, "why do I need to know this?" question. I love to pepper my lessons with tidbits from history, from current events and research, or personal experience.

I'm sure there are plenty of more reasons that I read, but now it's time to put away the iPad and pick up a book. Now which one should I read tonight?

Audiobooks

Not all of my reading requires the turning of a page. Several years ago now when the technology was cassette tapes listened to in the car or with a Walkman, I discovered audiobooks by Recorded Books at my local library. I fell in love with this form of "reading." I could read while driving. I could read while out for a walk or working in the garden. I could read while doing housework or cooking dinner. I could read while doing my cross-stitching. It was just so wonderful. The Audio editions publishers were the source of my all time favorite author Agatha Christie. You'd have thought I had died and gone to heaven.

Today the technology is more advanced, audiobooks for the iPod or iPhone. You can buy titles from iTunes or borrow titles from the library using Overdrive. There is certainly a different aspect to listening to a story being read to you. If you are an auditory learner it stimulates the brain in a different way than reading text does. One of the best parts of the audiobook experience is the narrator. Some can make you believe there is a whole cast of characters performing the book for you. Unfortunately, every once in a while you come across a dull narrator, most often when the author does his/her own readings (sorry authors that's why you write and not act). Can't wait to see what the future of audiobooks will be, but for now, they allow me to get even more reading done plus a whole lot more.

Taking the night off

Tonight I'm not in the mood to do any heavy reading. I spent a long day reading emails, memos, and student quizzes and my brain is fried. I think I will actually break down and watch TV. Okay not TV per se but Netflix. In 1987, British writer, Caroline Graham introduced her famous detective Chief Inspector Barnaby in The Killings at Badgers Drift. Ten years later, Barnaby made his television debut. I'm not one to watch much TV so when I do the program has to be really worth it and Midsomer Murders fits the bill. Talk about excellent writing. These are some really well crafted mysteries that will keep you guessing right up until the final denouement. So, if you love a good mystery, kick off the shoes, curl up on the sofa or ease the recliner back and tune in for an excellent example of the British village murder story. This isn't Agatha Christie we're talking about.

Ghost story for October

I can remember last Halloween, we were sitting around the wood stove in the family room by the light of several candles; there were no trick or treaters coming to the door as Halloween was cancelled. Cancelled you may ask? Yes, cancelled. A freak snow storm on the 29th had thrown much of the town and the region into darkness. The wet, heavy snow which settled thickly on branches still filled with leaves brought down limbs, trees and power lines. It was unsafe to be out going door to door in search of sweet treats. The four of us sat tucked up to keep warm, heating water over the fire for hot cocoa. My daughter, Maria, read to us from an anthology of stories by Edgar Allen Poe. What a way to spend the night!

I read Susan Hill's The Man in the Picture today. I'm not usually one for reading ghost stories but this one was delightful. I guess that sounds like an oxymoron. It was delightful in the sense that the language was rich and flowing. The suspense built and twisted. I certainly don't want to spoil it for you. It's October after all, time for a good ghost story.

New favorite quote

If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. - Marcus Tullius Cicero

I went to the library today to return some items and to find some new stuff to read. Blogged about Susan Hill last week and as she was a new author to me (introduced by a web search and recommended by my favorite librarian), I figured I would try some of her other titles (see previous post on Howards End is on the Landing). I've brought home The Man in the Picture, a ghost story, and The Various Haunts of Men, a detective story and one of my favorite genres.

The other titles I chose today include: Simonetta Agnello Hornby's The Almond Picker, The Roots of my Obsession: Thirty great gardeners reveal why they garden edited by Thomas C. Cooper, and The Roots of the Olive Tree by Courtney Miller Santo. Then I get to the circulation desk to check out my choices and the Cicero quote above is on a magnet on the filing cabinet behind the desk. He was so right! Two of the best things in life are having a beautiful garden to work in, or sit in to read; and the other is to have either your own private library or collection of books, or the great blessing of a good public library. What's even better is reading books about gardens, gardeners, or nature. Two pleasures in one!

Good grief? continued

Journal entry from April 18, 2012
Finished a memoir (All Wound Up: The Yarn Harlot Writes for a Spin) by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, a woman who works from home, blogs, raises three teenaged daughters, and has a passion for knitting. Knitting is Stephanie's art form and livelihood, and as she examines life she relates lessons learned back to the ways of knitting.

I loved the escapades of life that she recounted and could appreciate the humor. Daily life is a challenge and we all need something to do to help us through. I myself have used knitting but most often it's my cross-stitching that I find to be relaxing and meditative.

She wrote an essay entitled "The Time of the Big Not Knitting," about a period of grief in which knitting was not a solace. She chose not to knit, but rather found that she needed all her energy to deal with her deep sorrow, as well as, care for those around her. She never mentions what her deep sorrow was but knews that each reader could relate to a time in his/her own life. I'm finding it hard to write even though I know it might help me.

I had signed up for a writing course shortly before my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. I found I couldn't focus on the first assignment. It was so simple. I composed it in my head. I just couldn't get it out and onto paper or typed into the computer. I ended up withdrawing after the first class. Dad passed away shortly there after.

I'm still struggling with grief. Trying to right my life. There are days I feel I am loat at sea just bobbing along among the waves. Other days I seem to be my very efficient self, things get done and I fell competent.

I'm grateful to have taken a few moments to multitask (I've got dinner on the stove), and to write this little essay in my journal. Hopefully, I will find the energy to generate a blog post of this. There are several others that need to be composed and posted from the journal writing I have done over the last several months.

10/16/2012 - so here is the post finally. The writing is starting to happen again. Just like when Stephanie returned to her knitting once the grief had been lived through and the healing took place.

Good grief?

This has been a year of grieving. First my father's passing, the graduation of my daughter and her moving on to college (strange to call it a form of grief), saying good-bye to the lake house and all its wonderful memories, and now Aunt Ruth's funeral mass today. It has been such a challenging year. I've written about reading Tolstoy and the Purple Chair, a memoir of grieving and now I have another title to share, Anne Tyler's The Beginner's Goodbye. Aaron, the narrator of this story has lost his wife and begins the process of grief and the eventual return to life that comes after the healing process.

But I want to focus on this passage, " 'Reading is the first to go,' my mother used to say, meaning that it was a luxury the brain dispensed with under duress. She claimed that after my father died she never again picked up anything more demanding than the morning paper. At the time I thought that was sort of melodramatic of her, but now I found myself reading the same paragraph six times over, and still I couldn't have told you what it was about." (p. 52) I thank God this did not happen to me. Reading was my fallback. I could escape my own thoughts for a while. At times the ideas running through my head were just to much to handle and I needed a break. Thankfully, Tyler's story is an example of someone who makes it through the grief to the other side. It's an example of hope for those of us who are still slogging through the mire.