Books about bookstores

One of the first series of books I ever read about bookstores was Carolyn Hart's Death on Demand (http://carolynhart.com/) about a spunky young woman who inherited her uncle's bookstore which carried only murder mysteries. She and eventually the man who would become her husband set out to solve a series of real murders. The best part was how Hart dropped names of authors, characters, and titles throughout the book, I was introduced to many new books that way. I walked into the real thing when I visited Mystery on Main Street in Brattleboro, VT. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I told the proprietor that he held my dream job, he responded that owning your own business wasn't as easy as it looked. I discovered Edmund Crispin there in a reprinting by Felony and Mayhem Press.

A couple of years ago I read The Novel Bookstore about a Paris bookstore that only stocked novels chosen by a select and secretive committee. The competition in the city heated up between the different book sellers of Paris and there was some skullduggery. Again a good way to learn about authors I was unfamiliar with.

This afternoon I finished Robin Sloan's, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, where once again we are introduced to an unusual bookstore with a twist. There's a secret society, a quest, friendship, and the search for meaning. I won't tell you more as I think you should read it for yourself. Here's a hint though, if you do get the book leave it under a light for a short while and then turn the light off. Cool isn't it?

Time to resolve

The year is drawing to a close and it is time once again to reflect back on the events of the past twelve months. This year has been chuck-a-block full. Over full. Way too much! Some good and unfortunately some very sad. In spite of it all there has been beauty and joy, and when I have found it, I've grabbed onto it and relished it. The one lesson I firmly learned was to give up playing the "what if" game. It simply doesn't matter and it is just a waste of mental energy. The "Why?" game isn't one you should play either. Sometimes there is no answer, and why make yourself miserable trying to find one? Here's where the Serenity Prayer comes to the rescue:
      God give me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Resolving can mean to solve or to break down into component parts. Instead of resolutions this year I want to seek solutions in order to resolve the "problems" in my life. For example, getting organized. Once and for all I must get organized, I'm tired of living with my current technique of piling. Piles no longer work for me because I waste way too much time sorting through them looking for what I want. It's stressing me out too much! So I've pulled an "oldy" but goody off the shelf, Julie Morgenstern's  Organizing from the Inside Out. Confession time, I never managed to get through it the first time which is probably why I still haven't gotten organized. Well that may be one reason. What I think is really the answer is found in this quote, "Organizing from the inside out means creating a system based on your specific personality, needs, and goals. It focuses on defining who you are and what is important to you as a person so that your system can be designed to reflect that. (page 13)" Up until now I didn't really know who I was or what I wanted in life. I was living based on what I thought people expected of me. No wonder I couldn't come up with a system for myself. Here is where the resolving comes in, the breaking down of my life into its component parts so that I can observe them and fashion them into a new whole. This past year has been one which has challenged me to see myself in a new way and to redefine who I am. It is the work of this new year to express what I've learned and put it into practice.

The days are getting longer again

3:00 pm on a December day
look how low the sun is in the sky

I'm a couple of days late with this post, but on the solstice I was laid low with a seasonal cold. My son brought it home from school and my own students were sitting in class with their colds. I was bound to catch it as my defenses were worn down. We are approaching the time when last year my father fell ill and the devastating news of Stage IV lung cancer was given to us. The days were definitely dark then for all of us. It was over quickly when Dad passed away on February 1st.

I'm listening once again to Rosmund Pilcher's Winter Solstice on my iPod. I first read this book when it came out back in 2000. I was a fan of her other books The Shellseekers and particularly September which I've read a couple of times. I purchased my iTunes copy last December so I could listen to it once again plus have it to enjoy every December.

It is a story tinged with lots of sorrow. There are tragic losses of life and of loves. But then there is healing and starting over. It is the same with all our lives. Last year we didn't get to celebrate Christmas with my parents as my father was hospitalized before we could gather, but we did bring him his Christmas presents to open. This year we prepare to celebrate but with heavy hearts. Yet life goes on and doesn't the solstice prove that. At the darkest point of the year the earth begins its movement back towards the point where the earth's axis will tip us towards the sun again. In the end of Pilcher's story all her characters take up the broken pieces of their lives and begin to fashion something new. So too will my family. We will begin new traditions holding onto some of the old and incorporating the new. It will never be the same, but it will be good.

New Year's Eve

I know I'm a little early to be writing about December 31st but I finished Mitch Albom's The Time Keeper the story of Father Time. *** Spoiler Alert*** It is a twist on the old story of It's A Wonderful Life. It was a bit predictable but worth reading as a good reminder of what is truly important in life and the sin of trying to control our time here on earth. What was hard for me was his choice of his two characters who had their future's revealed to them while time was stopped in the middle of their act of suicide. The young teenage girl is a carbon copy of my own cousin who took her life at the age of 18. The second character an older gentleman with cancer was very much like my grandfather who was dying of cancer chose to take his life (cancer treatment in 1969 isn't what it is today). When I read the story I wondered if Mitch Albom had been reading my personal journals. I've always wondered if my loved ones could have known what life would be like after their deaths if they would have gone through with their actions. It's easy to write a story where there is a happy ending, but what about when there isn't? Our family story has been one of heartbreak, but also of triumph over tragedy. For those who suffer from this type of loss, it gets better, but the unanswerable question of why will still haunts.

Winter's coming

Frosty leaves

On Saturday afternoon we went for a walk in the woods and in patches the morning's frost had not yet thawed as evidenced by the pictures I have taken. It was a beautiful day for a walk, but we had to plan appropriately since the sun would be setting early. As we approach the winter solstice so we come to the day of the year with the shortest amount of day light here in the Northern Hemisphere. The Northern Hemisphere is tilted furthest away from the sun in its annual orbit. Man has used the key points in the earth's orbit to mark time - winter and summer solstices, and the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. They have made their calendars and built their temples/monuments to keep track of these days (think Stonehenge).

Now to continue with my December theme of books to read and re-read, I am currently listening once again to Ngaio Marsh's Death of a Fool.  This time we find Roderick Alleyn detecting the odd death of an old blacksmith who had been playing the role of the fool in a ritualistic winter solstice Morris Dance call the Dance of the Five Sons.

Frosted oak leaves

The ins and outs of village gossip, old traditions, and the fine art of police work all play key roles in this story. I am a huge fan of Marsh's fine dialogue and rich descriptions of the countryside. Plus she has such fine characters, and in her own words they are all "proper masterpieces."

The books we are not ready to read yet

It was a book I thought would be just right up my alley. I found it at the library, it was a memoir (a genre I love to read), it was about England (I am an Anglophile and my sister is currently living there so I thought it would be good to learn more about the country), and it hinted at being funny. Here you go read the back jacket blurb for yourself (Ben Hatch Are We Nearly There Yet?)

It started out okay. In fact it was good. But then a certain incident was inserted into the narrative and my foreboding nerve was stimulated. Something was around the corner and I wasn't going to like it. I kept going. Then it struck like the blow that I received just last January 2nd - Stage IV Cancer. There is nothing that can be done. There are only months. Enjoy what time you have left. I'm sorry Ben Hatch, but I had to put your book down and return it to the library. My pain was too raw and I had no space in my heart to carry yours as well. I was still trying to process my own grief. I have a great deal of empathy for you but I couldn't go on.

There are several of those stories over the last few months I have tried to read. Long before Dad's illness I had read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. Pausch shared with us the challenge of living out the end of one's life fully knowing of the outcome that awaits someone who's cancer can not be cured. I thought I could handle reading his widow's memoir Dream New Dreams. I'm sorry Jai Pausch but I couldn't do it. Watching my mother's grieving and knowing the pain she was going through putting her new life in order, I couldn't bear another widow's challenges as well. Perhaps one day I will be able to go back and read these memoirs by these talented writers and learn from their life lessons but for today I have my own story to process and write.

If on a winter's morning the traveler arrives....

Note the sticky tabs of learning

Okay I realize that it is not yet winter, the solstice is not until Friday, but it feels and looks like winter outside today. I sat cuddled under a blanket with my morning cup of coffee and finished Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler just a few minutes ago. It has been one of those intensely rich readings, nourishing and challenging to the brain. He closed the book with a discussion amongst some readers at a library as to the meaning of reading. Each declared their own personal philosophy of why they read and yet as a reader each one made perfect sense to me. We read for all different reasons, yet all our reading is interconnected. It is a matter of our brain chemistry. As discussed, the new reading that we do is connected to what we have previously read. Just like the synapses in our brain are connected, so too are the memories of the things we have read. Haven't you experienced that yourself? As you read you are reminded of something, what was it? Was it in a book? Or a movie or TV show (remember they all started as a written word hatched in the brain of a writer)? Maybe even an event in your life since writers take and fashion the world into their creations. It has been a book that has made me think. I have had to think about my own reading while I've been reading.

The beauty of marking a book while reading is to go back and see what you marked. Don't you know that when I looked at the very first sticky tab, there was the start of the final discussion that the book ended with. Fancy that! A circle was started and completed. Would I have had that insight, had I not been tempted to mark that early passage because it struck me as such a profound thought? I could have finished the book with the memory of the ending most prominent as it was the last stimulus in my mind. Again brain chemistry is to blame. Pathways must be built and strengthened for strong permanent memories to take hold.

One other thing that attracted me about this piece of work was his allusions to matter and the chemistry of the world. Twice he relates the "matter" of a book: words, sentences, grammatical structure to the elemental particles of matter: protons, neutrons, and electrons. Or at least that's what I interpreted from those passages. Writing and reading are real and have substance just like that which makes up the universe. Underlying these two things, writing and reading, is the energy of the universe waiting to be explored and released, a universal truth that runs through us all since each of us is made up of the same matter. We are all just star dust which was generated when the universe expanded with a big bang, and there was light.