Watership Down and Everlasting Memories

In the wake of so many celebrity deaths over the past few days, one important passing that may go unnoticed is that of Richard Adams, author of Watership Down. Originally published in 1972, this is one of those books that was never meant to be a children's book, but has eventually become a classic of the genre like To Kill a Mockingbird and The Catcher in the Rye. It is a book that I read in seventh grade. It is a book that changed my life in many ways.

The book was not my first encounter with the rabbits of Watership Down. The summer between Kindergarten and First Grade, I attended the summer rec program at my elementary school. One day, most likely due to inclement weather, all of the children were in a large room filled with toys. A movie was also put on for those wanting to watch. (It was on Laser Disc) At the beginning of the film, maybe five children were watching. By half way through, every child was watching this brutal and enthralling cartoon, including me, until the aides decided to turn it off. For years, those images stayed with me as I always wondered what that movie was.

Flash forward seven years later in seventh grade English. We were given the assignment to read a book and told that we were going to have to give a class report on it. Though I was a good reader, I never enjoyed reading. My teacher (whose name I cannot recall) gave me her copy of Watership Down and told me she thought I would enjoy it, recommending it for my report. It took about 20 pages for me to realize it was indeed the book on which that haunting movie was based. It took less than 20 pages for it to change the course of my life.

This was the first book that I ever read where the story played out in my head in a visual way. I could see everything as I read it and it was the awakening as to what reading could be. I never looked back and became an avid reader from that moment on. I owe so much to that story and to its late author. His passing has not gone unnoticed by me.

No e-book for me

I've always been against e-books in every way. I hate reading on a screen. I love the feel of a book. I love seeing my progress through a story with a bookmark. And I don't give me that crap about saving trees. Trees are renewable resource. Paper can be recycled. Thirty years from now when all those Kindles and Nooks are filling up landfills, we'll talk about which is better for the environment. 

I recently read an article which only re-affirmed my opinion on why I hate ebooks:

-In most cases, paper books have more obvious topography than onscreen text. An open paperback presents a reader with two clearly defined domains—the left and right pages—and a total of eight corners with which to orient oneself. A reader can focus on a single page of a paper book without losing sight of the whole text: one can see where the book begins and ends and where one page is in relation to those borders. One can even feel the thickness of the pages read in one hand and pages to be read in the other. Turning the pages of a paper book is like leaving one footprint after another on the trail—there's a rhythm to it and a visible record of how far one has traveled. All these features not only make text in a paper book easily navigable, they also make it easier to form a coherent mental map of the text.

Although e-readers like the Kindle and tablets like the iPad re-create pagination—sometimes complete with page numbers, headers and illustrations—the screen only displays a single virtual page: it is there and then it is gone. Instead of hiking the trail yourself, the trees, rocks and moss move past you in flashes with no trace of what came before and no way to see what lies ahead.- 

from The Reading Brain in the Digital Age by Ferris Jabr

I never would have put this together, but after reading this, it made perfect sense. Whenever looking for a passage, I can usually recall which side it was on and approximately where on the page. Studies have also shown that retention is stronger when things are read on the page rather than the screen. So now when people goad me about my purism, I have facts to prove my point of view is better.

Fiction Friday (47)

What is one to do when in a foreign country and has finished the book one has carried overseas? Of course, if that said person read ebooks, it wouldn't be a problem. I am that one and I  don't read ebooks! I took to searching the shelves of the house I was staying in for any book in English. Thankfully my in-laws all read English, though I had slim pickings in my room and I needed something to read before going to sleep. So I grabbed the first book I found, a slim and intriguing novel which I began that night and finished a few days later. Here are my thoughts.

Salt Water by Charles Simmons
(Chronicle 1998)

This slim novel is a contemporary retelling of Turgenev's classic tale "First Love," which I have not read and therefor can make no comparison. It takes place during a summer spent at a summer house on an isolated island off the coast. It is the summer when the main character falls in love for the first time at the age of fifteen.

Amid the tale of love and coming of age, the narrative explores the dynamics of family relationships, the way marriage evolves and eventually ebbs as children grow, and the shifting nature of emotions that don't often occur in seismic waves, but rather in small sometimes unnoticed tremors. The writing style captures this as well with its carefully constructed telling and what it chooses to reveal and conceal.

Though there's nothing earth shattering about this book, I would even venture to characterize it as a "quiet" novel, though I hate that term, it is well-done. If anything, I felt that the quiet style lessened the potential emotional impact of the story.

Oddly enough, I started reading it without knowing anything about it. About a third of the way through, I looked to see when it was written because it felt very much like a late '90s style of novel, and sure enough, it was. It's funny how enough time has passed that there is a definitive feel to books written during those years to make them identifiable. It reminded me of novels from Louise Erdrich and Kirsty Gunn, though perhaps less compelling. Enjoyable and quick.

Travels in Interzone

My dreams of late have been highly evolved, often having me traverse large regions of the Interzone. I've come across sections both familiar and previously unexplored. During my waking hours, when thinking about these recent travels, I've found myself recalling various dream locations, some of which are from dreams I had years and years ago. 

Given the nature of dream logic, it's never really easy to describe the plot in a coherent way. Many times the plot unravels before your very eyes while the dream is in production. The threads lead in different directions, pulling you along for the ride. While plot is usually fleeting, one thing that I find to be very vivid is location. Sometimes I can't remember what I was doing, but I can remember the house I was in, or the strange area of a city that never really existed but is rather a patchwork real and imagined places. 

The other day it struck me that some of these imagined elements most likely come from reading and the visual images conjured up from stories. It would explain the familiarity of the seemingly foreign. Not to mention the fact that I've encountered more unique places through reading, and the thousands of settings that I've written into existence, than I've been to in real life. I don't know why this never occurred to me before. It seems so obvious. Anyway, I've been enjoying thinking about it the past few days as I try to get a better understanding of the geography of Interzone.

Fiction Friday (39)

For a combination of reasons, last year was the year when I read books that didn't appeal to me. I also read slowly, mostly because I was busy with a baby, and when I wasn't, I was sleeping or working. The result was several months of unenthusiastic reading. I decided to change that this year, and one way to change that is to read books that I really, really want to read and not just picking up a book because it's been sitting around on a shelf for long enough. My selectivity has typically been one of my skills, choosing things that I know that I will like. I hadn't been using that skill appropriately of late, but that's all in the past. To kick off the new year, I picked up a book that I've been wanting to read since I closed the cover on the last book in the series. I was rewarded not only with a story that I loved, but one that inspired me to make time to read it quickly.

Library of Souls by Ransom Riggs
(Quirk Books, 2015)

The concluding book in the Peculiar Children series that began two novels ago was not only magnificent in its own right, but the perfect installment to end a story that has engaged my imagination for the past few years.

While the last book suffered from the curse of a middle novel, one that simply bridges the beginning and the climax, moving the characters from point A to point B, this book was free from those constraints. Picking up where the action left off, literally where it left off, as if a pause button was pushed and with the opening of the cover, the scene starts up again. I will admit that it was a little disjointing at first and I found myself putting it down in order to refresh myself with the events I'd read last year. But once it all came back to me, I was off and running and read this book quicker than I've read any book in the last year.

One of my other qualms about the previous novel was the forced nature of Jacob and Emma's relationship. Thankfully, this time around their young love is once again infused with the honesty that made it so special in the first book. Perhaps that has to do with the fact that this story focused on the two of them as a team. It didn't attempt to carry a huge cast through the story and kept the attention on them as they struggled to defeat their enemies in the heart of Devil's Acre; a most excellently conceived loop of nastiness.

As with the previous two stories, the action scenes were masterfully written, but it was the the expanded elaborations of Peculiardom Mythology that kept me enthralled and turning the pages. The secrets revealed here filled my head with wondering long after the pages were closed for the night. The idea of the time loops and their connectedness was fascinating, and the ancient history of their struggles and eventual fall were extremely compelling for a sci-fi nerd like myself. Others may find those elements a bit boring, but they truly made the book for me.

What a magical feeling when a story begins two books prior and wraps up with such an wonderfully complete and gripping novel. Bravo, Mr. Riggs.

Fiction Friday (11)

I couldn't let the month go by without setting aside at least one post dedicated to book reviews. As I've stated before, reading is such an important part of the writing process. What a writer reads, and how he or she interprets it, can shape concepts of style, narrative, and imagination. Often I think writers are drawn to very different books than readers, with the exception of ones just too brilliant to be ignored by either. I find it's the same way with musicians. Accomplished musicians always have these albums on their lists that, to me, are unlistenable. The musician hears something else, some level of technical playing that is masterful, but goes unnoticed to the average listener. Likewise, a writer can see something in a book that readers never look for. 

This week, I'd like to share two books that I've read in the last few months that I really enjoyed. Both are geared to an older middle grade audience, for readers not quite ready for the sometimes heart wrenching tone of YA books, but are ready to encounter the difficulties that arise when first coming of age. Hopefully everything I said at the start of this post doesn't apply here and anyone can find something to enjoy about these wonderful novels.

Bridge of Time by Lewis Buzbee
(2012)

There are some adventure stories that you race through to discover what will happen next and next and next after that and all the way through to the end. The joy of those books is satisfaction that comes with being done and knowing what happened. Then there are the kind of adventure tales Lewis Buzbee writes...where even though you're desperate to know what the turn of the page will bring, you can't help yourself from wanting to linger in the world he creates.

Bridge of Time is definitely one of those stories. One day, best friends Lee and Joan find themselves 'unstuck' in time after wandering away from their boring class trip. They end up in 1864, during the early formative days of San Francisco's past to encounter a city that is vastly different and yet still not totally unfamiliar. As they begin their journey back, they encounter a reporter who will one day became Mark Twain, and who, just like his beloved characters, has a knack for adventure.

Any time a story involves time travel, there is bound to be a lot of intriguing action, both past and future. I must confess that I love time travel stories and always have. I love pondering the puzzles they create. Because of the unique approach this story takes to the concept, there is no lack of things to ponder. In fact, there are so many deeper concepts in this book, hiding just under the surface, that I was still unraveling it for days after finishing it.

Besides the core adventure, the book is a poignant and honest look at divorce. It is also a fascinating and sometimes brutal examination into the history of San Francisco and the role racism played in its development. And by looking at Sam Clemens' transition into Mark Twain, the book subtly defends the ability of fiction to have as much of a social impact as journalism.

At the heart of the book however is the journey of two friends, struggling with the uncertainty of their future. Their fears and concerns are the kind that most middle school kids are all too familiar with. The true adventure is watching them grow stronger through it all.

The Extra-Ordinary Princess by Carolyn Q. Ebbitt
(2009)

To my surprise, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I admit that I only picked it up at the bookstore because the jacket sounded like it would be good research for a project I was considering at the time...the beautiful cover didn't hurt either. But what I found inside the pages was a wonderful mix of fantasy and fairy tale.

Amelia is the fourth princess, born behind three sisters who all excel at one thing or another. Compared to them, Amelia feels ordinary. But as one might expect, as the story unfolds Amelia turns out to be anything but ordinary.

The plot follows a traditional fairy tale unraveling of a perfect life in a beautiful kingdom that is soon ravished by an evil and powerful figure. And in a cruel twist of fate, Amelia is left to save her home from this darkness. That isn't to say the narrative is without surprises. In fact, much of the story is unpredictable and takes clever turns throughout.

In addition to the wonderfully constructed fairy tale elements, the friendships of the young characters is very well written. I also very much enjoyed how impossible it was to pin down 'when' this story was supposed to take place. It didn't try to set the action in Medieval times, or make it some contemporary story either...it struck a nice balance somewhere in the middle that had a way of making the story belong to it's own world. 

Barking at the Moon

Since when did reading become something that was supposed to be easy and uncomplicated? Sure there's a place for so-called 'light' reading. That place is mostly in magazines, online, and even some books. But not everything is supposed to be a quick entertainment. 

While the reviews of Life is But a Dream are overwhelmingly positive, I once again see myself pitted against the insatiable appetite for an action-filled plot that is easily digestible. The handful of readers who haven't liked the book seem to keep mentioning the 'slow pace' of which I expected. I've dealt with that one my entire career. I don't write books that ooze plot and I don't apologize for that. My books are about character and perception and language. Plot is secondary, just as plot is secondary to our thoughts in real life. 

The one unexpected criticism that I've seen is that some readers have been turned off by the fact that the book forces you to actually think. They falsely confuse that aspect of the book with it somehow being confusing. I wonder how they would do with Gravity's Rainbow or Ulysses? Just because you have to pay attention, doesn't mean something is confusing. However, I guess this shouldn't have been so unexpected. But it saddens me that some people aren't willing to concentrate when they read. (And then have the nerve to publish a book blog!). 

The truth is, some of us don't aim to write fiction, we strive to create literature. There's a difference. Not everything in this world is meant to be pure spectacle and entertainment. And when you pick up a book about a severe mental illness, can you really expect the story not to challenge you? If I didn't, would I really be doing my job?

This isn't a rant on negative opinions. I've said many times before that I actually enjoy a well-written critique of my writing. This is more of a sad observation on the state of reading and those who profess to cherish the activity, yet don't want to do the heavy lifting. 

Fiction Friday (8)

I noticed this morning that it's been quite some time since I had a Fiction Friday. This is partially due to my blog slowdown in January, but mainly due to the fact that I spent over a month reading the same book. That's something that hasn't happened in some time. It wasn't a lack of reading that caused this but rather the length of the book. But as always, I conquered the text and have moved on. In order to properly put the past two months behind me, I give you reviews on the two books that occupied my reading time during that span. Enjoy.

Forever by Pete Hamill
(Back Bay Books, 2002)

This is the type of book I'd never pick up on my own, but which I read because it was a gift. The reason I say that is simply because a flip-through in the store would reveal that the writing style is not the kind I gravitate towards. I prefer more surrealistic language and transporting prose, and given that Pete Hamill is first and foremost a journalist, this novel is written in a more direct manner. For many people, that is probably a pro rather than a con, which is also probably why it has the "National Bestseller" tag printed on the cover while most of the books I read do not. All of that said, I did quite enjoy the book, even if it is a book with competing aspects, some of which I thought were far more intriguing than others.

The first hundred pages or so are firmly steeped in Celtic folklore and the conditions of Northern Ireland during the mid-1700's. It follows the story of a boy and his parents who live as protestants while secretly holding shunned religious beliefs. This world comes alive quite nicely, but as with the book as a whole, I found it tries to tackle too much, to be too all-inclusive, thus muddling the points it tries to make.

This first part of the book serves to set up a semi-epic frame tale that carries the rest of the narrative. It's a folktale-ish story of revenge and mysticism that plays out over 250 years in Manhattan. But the real highlight of the book for me was witnessing the evolution of New York through the character's eyes. Having been a New Yorker, it was utterly fascinating to see how this small island beat the odds to survive.

Then comes the last part of the book. As soon as this segment begins, it's painfully obvious that the story is going to turn into a 9/11 story. It felt disappointing to me because the book was so much more than that, yet it was ultimately going to be bunched into this sub-genre. But I suppose one can't talk about the history of New York City without dealing with the most important day in the city's history. And to it's credit, it covers the topic excellently. Having been in the relative area on that day, I felt this account captured the confusion and numbness that most New Yorkers experienced that day. Yet, at the same time, seems to discredit it by steeping it once again in mysticism.

In the end, this was a fascinating read that sometimes got lost trying to present social consciousness regarding slavery and equality within a context of folklore.

Memories of the Future by Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky
(NYRB Classic, 2009)

Another fascinating book in the NYRB series, a series which attempts to bring lost books back into the world. This time it's a collection of several longish short stories by a Russian author. Most of these stories were written in 1920s, in the earliest days of the Soviet Union, but somehow they feel incredibly contemporary.

The writing style feels more in line with fiction of today than of the past. There's almost a post-modernist angle to many of the themes in the book, especially those dealing with the end of ideas and the bankruptcy of literature. There were so many great concepts and details in these stories that I continue to think about, now more than a month after finishing the book. One in particular involves an expanding room that reminds me so much of Doctor Who and his brand of Time Lord science. Certainly worth checking out from literary historian point of view.

Grievances Before Thanks

A common compliant that I see with my books is that some readers find them to be 'too slow.' Though, I shouldn't feel upset about that, because reading reviews of other books, award winning pieces of fantastic literature, I see the same 'too slow' criticism popping up. It's almost as if any book that isn't filled with twists at every chapter, or bursting with plot, is labeled too slow.

Anything that requires one to think these days is 'slow.' Anything to values the language of a story and an intimacy with character as much as plot, is 'slow.' And when did reading become a race anyway? Perhaps since people started setting online goals of how many books they are going to read in a year, or tracking the progress of their page count as they read. One of the great things about books as opposed to film is that they allow you you're own time within the story. Some readers actually value that quality.

I will continue to write 'slow' books because I believe in order to capture the terrible beauty of life requires attention to detail.

Books (No Electricity Required)

The winds blew in violently from the west after an unnaturally warm end to the week last week. On Saturday, powerlines that typically cross the line of sight outside my front window were suddenly strung across the ground, leaving my house and all of the homes nearby without electricity for the weekend. Incidentally, this is the reason for the lack of a Weekend Music Roundup in case anyone was wondering.

With the fireplace going, I was able to keep it slightly above freezing indoors where I spent the weekend curled under several blankets and read four books. It was refreshing and rejuvenating. In college, it is how I spent most weekends trying to get through my assigned reading as well as the books I wanted to read on my own. I still read every day, but it would be nice to spend more time each day doing so. It's a funny thing when the power goes out. It makes one realize how reliant we are on it and everything it gives. There's a moment of utter freak out when it turns off. But then, once it comes back, there also needs to be moment where we realize all it takes away from us.