Sunday, December 30, 2007

The Last Book Of 2007

Week Fifty Two, Book Seventy
80 Very Short Stories
by James Thomas and Robert Shapard
Review:
I spoke too soon. I thought that I would end the year on an odd number of books read, but pulled though with an even seventy for the year. Wow! I am so happy that I ended on this one, because the last review was a total downer. I approached this reading in an odd way, that I think is worth sharing. I first read all the stories by female authors, then by names that could be either gender, lastly all male authors. Not really sure why I did this, but it made the book fly when reading in this pattern. Overall, this collection of "flash fiction" stories-aka "short shorts"was amazing.
Here are my top five favorites from this edition:
1. Rumors of Myself, Steve Almond
2. Accident, Dave Eggers
3. How To End Up, Jennifer A. Howard
4. The Doctor, Ann Hood
5. The Kettle, Eva Marie Ginsburg

more flash fiction, short-short stories etc.:
*New Sudden Fiction: Short-Short Stories from America and Beyond
by Robert Shapard and James Thomas
*Fast Forward 1: Future Fiction from the Cutting Edge
by Kage Baker, Stephen Baxter, Elizabeth Bear, and Paul di Filippo
*Flash Fiction: Very Short Stories
by James Thomas
*Micro Fiction: An Anthology of Really Shor...
by Jerome Stern
*Sudden Fiction (Continued): 60 New Short-S...
by Robert Shapard

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

My New Year's Resolution Review

Last year, I made a resolution that I would read at least one book a week and write a review here on this blog. I am very proud of myself and happy to say that I finally stuck to a New Year's Resolution. This was an exciting task, which led me to discover new authors as well as genres that I would normally cringe at reading. There were various Graphic Novels and Poetry books that I reviewed, but did not count towards the book a week quota, so technically my total of sixty nine books for the year is slightly inaccurate.

Although, I feel like I accomplished a great feat, there are so many readers out there that laugh and guffaw at my total. I have read a ton of literary blogs this past year to find that there are people reading roughly five books plus a week. Now grant it, they may work in publishing or may even be professional writers, but still that number is huge compared to my average reading of one to three books a week.

I am not really sure where I will go from here with this blog, but I do still plan on reading and reviewing and posting literature related news as often as possible. Those of you who shared in this year long experience, thank you for tuning in and have a happy, healthy and safe New Year!

Monday, December 24, 2007

Week Fifty Two, Book Sixty Nine

by Heather McHugh and David Lehman
Review:
This is the twentieth edition of the Best American Poetry series, which delivers great poems to a broad audience of readers. The introduction and Forward by Heather Mc Hugh and David Lehman were superb. I love whenever anyone discusses Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach", it is one of the greatest poems ever written and I some day wish to read a book based on that poem alone. Otherwise, I am sorry to say, but I hated this book. In the past year, I have read an array of newly released poetry compilations and this one was by far the worst. It is hard to say exactly why it fell short of being mediocre. Maybe I am better off reading a series of poems by the same author, with a theme or some sort of voice. I am at a loss for words, I usually love poetry. I kind of feel like one of those people who often say, "How can you read poetry?, I just don't get it." Well, I just didn't get it this time either. Believe me, I tried really hard, but this book did not click for me at all. Here are some sites to check out and maybe this is the only good that came from this collection. Amen!
sites:


Bunnies: It's A Wonderful Life


Saturday, December 22, 2007

Week Fifty One, Book Sixty Eight

by Cs Richardson
Review:
Just as he is turning fifty, Ambrose is told by his doctor that he has one month left to live. He and his loving wife, Zipper, set out on an expedition to the places that he most loved or has always longed to visit, from A to Z. This is an ordinary love story filled with humor and adventure, that was perfect to read during the holidays. Although it is written in prose, this masterpiece reads like poetry. A true love story.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Week Fifty, Book Sixty Seven

by Wendy Mass
Review:
Wendy Mass visited my school this week and spoke to the 6th grade students about her life as a writer and the books that she has written for children. Although, I had not read any of her books before, I felt compelled to pick up A Mango-Shaped Space this week and find out for myself why this book appeals to so many girls in my school. I loved this book, mainly because I had never heard of the condition that the main character has before. Synesthesia, which means that the visual cortex in your brain is activated when you hear something. There are many forms of this condition and the main character as a teen struggles to figure out how to deal with the outside world that she for the longest time hid her secret from. This is a great coming of age novel that can be taught in literature classes, because it lends itself to so many themes that teens face everyday. Below is the book that inspired the author to write this work of fiction based on science as well as a few sites for teachers to use for teaching this piece in the classroom. Enjoy!
sites:
book:
by Richard E. Cytowic





























































































































































































































































































































































































Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Week Forty Nine, Book Sixty Six

One Hundred and Forty Five Stories in a Small Box
Sarah Manguso and Dave Eggers and Deb Olin Unferth
Review:
This is a collection of one hundred and forty-five stories in a small box. There are three books in total, each individually foil stamped with the following subtitles: Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape, How the Water Feels to the Fishes, and Minor Robberies. The genre of writing exhibited is considered snap fiction or flash fiction. I really enjoyed chuckling to myself as I read some of these stories, yet was disturbed by most in an unsettling way. I often found myself rereading many of the shorter of the short pieces and loved the second or third reads much more than the first. If I had to put the books in order of preference I would say that the Manguso book would be first, then the Eggers and last the Unferth. If you are looking to buy a quirky book for a friend during the upcoming holidays, this is a great investment from three fun authors and definitely worth the read.



Saturday, December 1, 2007

Week Forty Eight, Book Sixty Five

The Revisionist
Miranda Mellis
Review:
In this novella, Miranda Mellis, observes the world through the eyes of its narrator, a weather surveillance reporter who documents his/her findings from an abandoned lighthouse, seven miles outside the city. We run into the blind, hearing impaired, seeing-eye dogs, and birds in this postmodern apocalypse. There aren't really any chapters, just spaces between prose and breaks in between pages with artwork by Derek White. This is definitely a page turner and one that keeps you wondering where the characters are going and have been. I know that Mellis's work has been compared to Saunders, but I think the Kafka comparison is more accurate. Overall, this was a quick and fun read with captivating artwork.


More artwork:
10 images inspired by and for The Revisionist by Miranda F. Mellis
More about the author:
Her stories have also appeared recently in Fence, Denver Quarterly, and Post Road. She teaches at the California College of the Arts and is an editor at The Encyclopedia Project.

Week Forty Eight, Book Sixty Four

Jonathan Lethem
Review:
Pella Marsh is 13 when her mother dies and her family; father, Clement, and her two younger brothers leave Brooklyn and strive for a better life on the planet of the Archbuilders. The Archbuilders are double-jointed creatures with bodies of fur, shell and leathery skin, who had once built a great civilization but have since fallen into a kind of lethargy. Their planet is a parched wonderland of crumbled towers and archways, a place where tiny giraffelike creatures called household deer skitter and scamper across the plains and in the corners of people's houses, like mice. I am not at all a science fiction fan or have ever read any of Lethem's books before, but after hearing him speak this Fall at the Brooklyn Book Festival, I knew I had to check out some of his work. This story reminded me of a lot of Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut pieces, which I loved, because they are two of my favorites. Although, Lethem writes in many different genres, I am aware that this is just a taste of his science fiction side. I absolutely loved this book and would recommend it to anyone.


Read the Powells.com Interview with Jonathan Lethem
Read the INK Q&A with Jonathan Lethem
More Books by Jonathan Lethem
More images from The Hour Sets
If you are interested in any of this artwork or purchasing a copy of this book, contact Derek White at http://www.calamaripress.com/derekwhite.htm.
Images from The Hour Sets




An Excerpt from The Hour Sets

From The Hour Sets by Michael C. Boyko
Hour Set #9
The Researcher
-9-
The researcher walks to the nine o'clock station and circles the cube, taking notes and making sketches. He removes a symbol from the cork and folds it neatly, slipping it into his pants pocket. He examines his fingers, rubs them together, them wipes them on a nearby towel. He walks to a pole and lowers a flag, removes it, then removes his sweatshirt and hoists the garment to half-mast. It lies limp. He re-lowers it and puts it back on. He picks the flag up off the ground and dons it like a cape. He leans against the pole and begins his ninth list.
The Academy
Objects found at Station #9:
A cube of cork on a tripod stand, acting as a six-sided bulletin board, adorned with symbols inked onto paper and attached with thumbtacks. The symbols relate to no known language.
Several flags embroidered with symbols similar to those on the cork cube. Some on flagpoles raised to different elevations, some laid flat on the ground, facing up or facing down and weighted with stones, some folded simply or elaborately, some in crumpled heaps, some torn, or with portions cut out.
A small terrycloth hand towel, baby blue, folded into a square, slightly damp.
A book binding, front cover, back cover, and spine intact, but all of the pages missing. The cover reads Emotion as Entertainment by Muriel C. Brankoff, Heritage Potts, Editor.
The Occupant
-9.1-
I know this symbol, mine, but beyond that. It is my symbol, I have come to call it my name. Remove it from the cube, an empty place now on the north side. Take one from
the top, single clockwise turn, pin it in the space left by mine. The flags come to life, snap west and ripple. Reach underneath, invert, fill the space on top. The animals become aggressive, begin to surround me, quickly replace the slip to calm them back into the trees. Try it from the west, keep it static, the late day sun scatters the clouds. Better. Rearrange the west side to no effect. Cautiously take from the bottom again, clockwise once, fill in the exposed west corner, my right hand goes to sleep. Ignore it, go east to bottom, north to east, south to north, top to south. The shadows detach and move along the earth, shapes fall out of my flags. I place my symbol on top, and this all goes away.

-9.2-
Sometimes I like to take a break and wash my hands. There is a rocky stream not far, small pockets of clean water appear after lunch, quickly warmed by the afternoon sun. I bring a small towel, spread it on a sunny rock so that it, too, is warm. I roll up my sleeves, neatly above the elbows. I sink my hands into the warm water and begin to work each in turn inside the other. When the water is so murky that I can no longer see my hands at work, I am done. Shake vigorously, pick up the towel, squeeze my skin into the terrycloth. I leave my hands a little damp, refold the towel, unroll my sleeves, walk home with the wind between my knuckles. When I return tomorrow, the water is clean.

-9.3-
My name has been struck through. Someone has come, decided to draw a clean horizon line, probably with a ruler or some other straight edge, straight through the center, I did not know my name had a center, someone else has found it. The environment no longer responds to my manipulation of the symbols on the slips. I have been crossed out, dismissed, no longer considered a variable. In my anger, I slowly remove each slip, begin striking them through, until I stand in a barren field, my hands covered in ink, unemployed and with no prospects. Directed toward a way to act without benefit, without hope.