Showing posts with label John Green. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Green. Show all posts

Sunday, February 21, 2016

My Top Ten Reads of 2015

Whew!

Call this the blog that almost didn't happen.

 I kept track of all the books I read last year like a dutiful book blogger (I read 36 by-the-by), noting which could be candidates for my Top Ten list along the way. Then in late December I actually compiled the Top Ten list, intending to write and publish this post either just before or just after the New Year.

Heh. Heh.

Best intentions, right?

Oh well. Let's get down to it, shall we? I have the same rules as I had in previous years: all styles of books are fair game because I'm not a pretentious bitch, and only one book by any given author can make the list, because I like to make equal opportunity Top Ten lists. I already reviewed some of the books that made the cut this year, and when relevant I will link to those reviews. In years past I linked to each book's kindle page but I think I will cut that part out with this end-of-year literary list. I read both electronic and dead tree books (aka paperback) and I feel like linking to ebooks only might come across as preferential. 

I don't want to tell you how or what or why to read. That's not my business, so long as you actually fucking read. This is a literary world, after all. 

And now the Top Ten list:

(10) Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler



Raymond Chandler was one of the founding fathers of noir fiction. Phillip Marlowe, the fictional PI he created is the literary godfather to all who followed him. If you've never given noir a try, give THIS one a try. If you love modern hardboiled fiction but have never explored its predecessors, fucking do so now.

(Also, if you have an hour or so to kill and are possessed of a sense of humor and a love of a well-turned line, go look at @chandlerisms on twitter. The account tweets only lines from the master's books. Lots of fun.)

(9) Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan



This book was so, so, so much fun. It managed to somehow be both in love with technology and Luddite-ish at the same time. I don't want to say much else, except: read this fun, fun, fun book! And check out @penumbra on twitter.

(8) The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

I didn't want to like this book, but I did. And I wrote about it here. 



(7) Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

My boyfriend Brandon and I both read this book early last year. It was phenomenal! Then we watched the movie. It was ok. Not phenomenal, but not horrible.



(6) The 8 by Katherine Neville

This was one of a short stack of paperbacks that Brandon pulled off one of his shelves and handed to me because he thought I might like them. And my fucking god was he right!! Holy intrigue! Reading this felt like reading one of Agatha Christie's political intrigue novels.



(5) Warning Signs by Stephen White

This was another book from Brandon's short stack. It was the last book I read in 2015 and I loved it so much that so far this year I've read three more books from the same series, and I am currently reading a fourth. Yep. Love me Stephen White.



(4) The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

Please believe me when I say that I am done fangirling all over John Green. But I couldn't honestly leave this book off my list. I didn't so much READ this book as I INHALED it, in a few short hours (spread over 2 days) after which I sobbed like a little bitch. 

Reading John Green novels turns me into an emo 17-year-old. Check out an old post I wrote about how John Green writes about young girls. 



(3) The Last Call by George Wier

George Wier is an author I discovered in 2015. I started with this book, The Last Call, which is the first in a series of noir mysteries set in my town: Austin Texas! I loved it so much that I went on to read three more books in the series, and I plan to read them all!



(2) To Kill a Mockingbird and Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee



Okay, so maybe I'm cheating a little by bundling both of Lee's books into one slot on my Top Ten list. Maybe, but I don't think so. If you buy the argument (and I do) that Watchman was the rediscovered first draft of Mockingbird, they can really be taken as different versions of the same story. Even if you don't buy that argument, Watchman is best appreciated in connection with Mockingbird.

I blogged about the pairing last summer. Take a look here. 



(1) The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald



Full disclosure: my reading of The Great Gatsby in 2015 was my second read-through of this novel. Like most Americans it was required reading for me in high school. But high school me HATED this book. I found it by turns boring and pretentious. I walked away from Gatsby with the impression that in it Fitzgerald celebrated the excesses of the leisured elite. That really pissed me off.

Boy was high school me thick. I completely missed the point of Gatsby. This time around, with a number of years and a TON of life experience under my belt, I found I could not merely appreciate, but actually LOVE this book. I'm so glad I gave it a second try.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

My Top Ten Reads of 2014

Welcome to my Second Annual Top Ten Reading List!

This just might be the least important Top Ten Reading List you'll come across this holiday season. Unlike others, my list isn't comprised only of books that came out in 2014, nor is it a Top Ten List of books by HOT NEW AUTHORS. Theses aren't books of Earth-shattering importance, and they're not books written by self-published authors who are on the rise.

These are just books that I stumbled across this year, read, and fell in love with.

That's all that I want out of my books. I won't tell you how to read or who to read, but I want to highlight these books because I think that you may enjoy them. Okay?

First things first: I read 29 total books this year. More than some of you may have read, and definitely less than a lot of you read. I read self-published books and traditionally published books, fiction and non-fiction. When it comes to my Top Ten List I only have one rule: any given author may only have one book on the list. To do otherwise just seems to me unfair. That limited how I could shape my list, however, as I discovered and fell WAY in love with three authors this year: Donald Westlake (I read three of his books), John Green (I read three of his books as well), and Nelson DeMille (I read a whopping SEVEN of his books this year).

So you can probably understand my rule now, huh?

Here's your alert:


SPOILERS AHEAD!!

And away we go!!

Number Ten: The Ghost of Blackwood Hall by Carolyn Keene

If you've spent any time at all on this blog, then you already know of my affinity for the Nancy Drew Mystery stories. I've reviewed a few of them before. The character of Nancy Drew was an early feminist icon for young girls and her stories are chock full of adventure and spine-tingling moments. I love them. Has it been a decade (or more) since you spent an afternoon with Nancy? Pick one of her books up again. I guarantee you won't regret it.

Number Nine: Beyond Hades by Luke Romyn
Beyond Hades is an action-packed thrill ride based on one crazy notion: Greek mythology is real and someone has opened the gates to Hades, unleashing monsters of unspeakable ferocity. Pardon my pun, but what in the HADES would we do in that situation?

Call in the military, an academic, and a time-traveling Aussie to save the planet. 

Seriously. This book is just that crazy and just that fun. It also ends on kind of a cliffhanger, but don't worry: there's a part two.


Number Eight: 12 Years a Slave by Solomon Northup

In the late 1800s an African American man named Solomon Northup wrote a harrowing memoir that raised a few Victorian eyebrows before it slowly faded from the limelight until it was made into a movie of the same name earlier this year. I heard of the movie and decided I would rather read the book.

If you are an American I urge you to read this memoir. It will change the way you think of our history. Yes, we all know our nation was built on the backs of slaves. Yes, we all know that a war was fought that ultimately resulted in the freeing of those slaves and the simultaneous creation of a category of second-class citizenship, the echoes of which are still felt today. We all know this. 

But the real, lived experience of an American slave is something most of us have the good fortune to know nothing about. And shame on us for that. If we as a nation are ever to be able to move on from the continuing impact of our bloody heritage, we all must be made to face the truth of it.

Solomon Northup was a Northerner who was born free. His father, a lifelong slave to a man with--at the time--progressive views on the subject, was freed in his master's will. Solomon was taught to read and write, to farm, some basic carpentry, and also learned to play several musical instruments. When he became a man he married his sweetheart and started a family. And then he was kidnapped and sold into slavery. And because of all of the laws that governed slaves and their movements, he couldn't just go to the police and explain that he was a free man. So he spent twelve long years toiling under the yoke before he finally managed to prove his status and return to his family.

This is a gut-wrenching tale. I challenge you to make it all the way through without shedding a tear.



Number Seven: Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh

Hyperbole and a Half is a book that grew out of a blog of the same name. Check it out! But even though I have a blog of my own I tend of walk around woefully unaware of what's happening on the interwebs, so I bought the book without knowing anything of its predecessor. AND I FUCKING LOVED IT. If you know the blog, you know what to expect from the book: lots of super colorful illustrations and soulful venting. Buy it. Read it. And laugh until you cry or piss your pants or both.




Number Six: The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
I loved, loved, loved this book.
But I have an embarrassing confession to make: I watched the movie first. I know. That's completely backwards. You're always supposed to read the book first. That way, while you're watching the movie, you can fit together the pieces that don't make sense, and you'll know what was left out. You can read my review of the movie HERE.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower has everything I love about YA books. There's a protagonist who agonizes about not being "normal," fierce friendships that start in uncomfortable ways, and the roller coaster ride of adolescent self-discovery. There's so much Why am I this way? Why are we this way? How can we make the world better/happier/more peaceful/ more exciting?? But it's never too much. None of it is shoved down the reader's throat. In fact, the manner in which Mr. Chbosky wrote the novel allows for the reader to be made to feel uncomfortable in a natural, almost inevitable way. Sort of like reliving adolescence. It is a MASTERPIECE of storytelling.

Also, the story is set in State College, Pennsylvania. I once lived there. If you ever lived there, you will enjoy all the State College references. 


Number Five: The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler, aka Lemony Snicket

For the record, I didn't know Daniel Handler was Lemony Snicket when I read this book. Nothing against Lemony Snicket or his Series of Unfortunate Events, but I picked up The Basic Eight because it--and it alone--enticed me.  

There's not much I can say about this book without giving away crucial plot points. I don't mind a spoiler or two in a review but these are Fight Club level twists and I want you to have the same level of enjoyment as I did when I read it. So I'll leave you with the Amazon blurb:


Flannery Culp wants you to know the whole story of her spectacularly awful senior year. Tyrants, perverts, tragic crushes, gossip, cruel jokes, and the hallucinatory effects of absinthe -- Flannery and the seven other friends in the Basic Eight have suffered through it all. But now, on tabloid television, they're calling Flannery a murderer, which is a total lie. It's true that high school can be so stressful sometimes. And it's true that sometimes a girl just has to kill someone. But Flannery wants you to know that she's not a murderer at all -- she's a murderess.



Number Four, Truth in Advertising by John Kenney

I picked up Truth in Advertising at Half Price books. It was a pure impulse buy. I knew nothing of John Kenney and the cover art didn't tell me much about the story, but I had a feeling I would like it, and I was right. Buying Truth in Advertising was a damned good rash decision. Smart, funny, fresh, and almost unnervingly wise. I had so many "A-ha!" moments while reading. I highly suggest this read!


Number Three: Plum Island by Nelson DeMille

I said in the introduction that I read seven books by Mr. Nelson DeMille this year. When it came time to compile this Top Ten list I knew that one of his books had to be included, but I wasn't entirely sure which one it would be.

I did know one thing, though: whatever book I chose was going to be a John Corey book. 

John Corey is a recurring character in Mr. DeMille's books. He's also my favorite literary alpha male. I dedicated a whole blog post just to him. Check it out! 

Plum Island is the very first in the series of books that feature Mr. Corey. And it's awesome. Unlike other books on this list, Plum Island isn't deep. There's no brooding, no angst, and no characters who agonize about who they are really. You know in their souls. Don't get me wrong. I love angsty characters. But every so often, a strong, gruff, no-nonsense alpha male is what a story (and I) need. You know, deep down. *wink* *wink*. 

Ha ha. Just kidding But seriously. This book is awesome.

Action. Adventure. Sarcasm. Laughs. This is what you're in for when you read Plum Island. So read it.


Number Two: The Cutie by Donald Westlake

The Cutie was the first book I ever bought solely because of its cover. Also, with the 50 cent price tag it had at Recycled Reads Austin, I knew there was no harm in trying it. The way I figured it, I'd peruse a few pages to get a feel for the story, and if it was no good, what had I lost? Fifty cents and a couple minutes of my time. 

No harm, no foul.

I've heard the name Donald Westlake before. And whenever I've heard it, it was spoken with reverence. Donald Westlake is one of the Big-big names in pulp fiction. However, The Cutie was my first foray into the pulpy arts. I've long been intrigued by the idea of pulp fiction, but never really prepared to take the plunge. I mean, yes, I read genre fiction, but pulp? Come on, I have a Master's degree.

Nevertheless, that cover intrigued me. And guess what? IT WAS A FUCKING LIE!! That woman appears NOWHERE in the novel. And she isn't the cutie referred to in the title! Who is the aforementioned cutie? Well, you think you know from the first chapter but the real identity of the cutie is one of the many twisty twists of this book! 

The Cutie was so much fun to read. Donald Westlake has a really hysterical way with words. Here's how chapter two starts, by way of example:

Outside was the city, and it had halitosis. The air was hot and damp, and breathing was a conscious matter.

That is just pure literary gold, pulp fiction style. Love it!



And now, without further ado, we have...

Number One: Looking for Alaska by John Green


WARNING! Throughout the year, I have become something of a fangirl for John Green, and it all started with this book, Looking for Alaska, and the titular character, Alaska Young. Here's what Shmoop said about Alaska, and here's what I said about Alaska, and about the other heroines of John Green novels. 

Because, for me, the real treasures in John Green novels are the heroines he depicts. I discovered this when I read Looking for Alaska the first time, and rediscovered it when I read it again a few months later. (Yes I read this book twice this year. That is why it HAD to be number one.) I found myself falling in love with Alaska right alongside Miles, the main character. I could totally envision myself falling just as hard for a similar girl had I met one when I was Miles' age. 

Looking for Alaska is amazing. It's accessible for both teens and adults without being either overly simple or obtuse or preachy. It's wise and loving, and yes, angsty. But life is angsty, and sometimes we want our art to mirror the struggle of life. 








Wednesday, June 11, 2014

BOOK REVIEW: Paper Towns by John Green

Today I review Paper Towns by John Green.


Here's what I'm not doing:
  1. I'm not reviewing The Fault in Our Stars
  2. I'm not commenting on John Green as an individual
  3. I'm not commenting on the so-called 'John Green Effect' in YA publishing (You can read about that here, among other places.)


Why am I not doing those things? Well, I'm not reviewing The Fault in Our Stars because I haven't read it. And to be honest, I haven't read it yet simply because everyone else in the world has. I discovered John Green through Looking for Alaska, and when I did I felt like I should give his other, not-fault-in-our-stars books some attention. Because they're probably jealous of how everyone dotes on that other book.

I'm not commenting on John Green either as an individual or as a force in publishing because, frankly, I feel like enough has already been said about how awesome/dangerous/well-meaning/privileged/white/male he is. And furthermore, although I love writers (I am one!) and I understand that books come from writers, it is my fervent belief that books should be judged on the basis of their own merits. A good book should never suffer because it was written by an asshole. On the same token, a horrible book should never be lauded just because the guy who wrote it is super cool and everyone's best friend. 

So, without further ado, here is my review of Paper Towns:
(Naturally, SPOILER ALERT)


Paper Towns might be one of the best books I have ever read. (Is that a fangirlish enough start to this review?) The plot is so simple: childhood friends and longtime neighbors Quentin and Margo enjoy a night of vengeful revelry in the last month of their senior year of high school and then Margo disappears and Quentin devotes the remainder of his high school career to finding her. That's really it. But it's also so not it. Because the story is about so much more than that. It's about:
  • Margo's imagined relationship to her childhood memory of Quentin
  • Quentin's imagined relationship to his childhood memory of Margo
  • Margo and Quentin's actual relationship
  • Margo's fractured relationship to her parents
  • Margo's parents' idealized relationship to the daughter they wish they had
  • Margo's relationship with her hometown of Orlando
  • Quentin's relationships with his friends Ben and Radar
  • Quentin's relationship with his parents, who are both therapists
  • The image Quentin holds in his mind of Margo
  • The image Quentin holds in his mind of himself
  • The idea that how people imagine one another bears little resemblance to the way people actually are
  • And so much more!!
I could go on for days about the intricate and hugely meaningful ideas that form the foundation for the story behind Paper Towns. I'm convinced that it is the simplicity of the plot that allows room for the rich character development in this novel. Paper Towns is the kind of book that I believe would make a horrible movie. Because not a whole hell of a lot happens. After Margo and Quentin's all-night life-changing vandalism spree there's just not a ton of action. But please don't confuse that lack of action with tedium, because if you did you would be so wrong.

Paper Towns is witty. Early in the book I came across this line: 
Both my parents are therapists, which means that I am really goddamned well adjusted. 
And I knew I was in for a treat. 

Here's the set-up:
The protaganist, Quentin, is the only child of therapists. He's not exactly a social outcast, but he is the kind of non-band-geek who only hangs out with band geeks. He grew up next to Margo Roth Spiegelman in a sprawling Orlando suburb that was mostly indistinguishable from all the other sprawling Orlando suburbs. And, Margo, well...I should let John Green tell you about Margo. Because whatever lame summary I come up with couldn't do her justice.

...She was the only legend who lived next door to me. Margo Roth Spiegelman, whose six-syllable name was often spoken in its entirety with a kind of quiet reverence. Margo Roth Spiegelman, whose stories of epic adventures would blow through school like a summer storm: an old guy living in Hot Coffee, Mississippi, taught Margo how to play the guitar. Margo Roth Spiegelman, who spent three days traveling with the circus--they thought she had potential on the trapeze. Margo Roth Spiegelman, who drank a cup f herbal tea with The Mallionaires backstage after a concert in St. Louis while they drank whiskey. Margo Roth Spiegelman, who got into that concert by telling the bouncer that she was the bassist's girlfriend, and didn't they recognize her, and come on guys seriously, my name is Margo Roth Spiegelman and if you go back there and ask the bassist to take one look at me, he will tell you that I either am his girlfriend or he wishes I was, and then the bouncer did so, and then the bassist said "yeah that's my girlfriend let her in the show," and then later the bassist wanted to hook up with her and she rejected the bassist from The Mallionaires.

The stories, when they were shared, inevitably ended with, I mean, can you believe it? We often could not, but they always proved true. 


Quiet Quentin, practical Quentin, smart Quentin, grew up in awe of Margo Roth Spiegelman. And he loved her in a sort of hero-worshipping way. But Margo always traveled in cooler circles. That is, until the day she found out her boyfriend had been cheating on her. Then Margo Roth Spiegelman had to have revenge, and she needed Quentin to help her exact that revenge. As she told her confused friend: "I have to do eleven things tonight, and at least five of them involve a getaway man."

There I go quoting the book again. But that's the problem with books that are as amazing and quotable as Paper Towns. When you read them they fill you with such evangelical excitement that all you want to do is quote their lyrical lines to everyone you know so they, too, can be filled with the same excitement.



Margo and Quentin's epic Night of Eleven Probably-Illegal Tasks was a wild success. And of course, when Quentin went to school the next day he harbored unspoken hopes that his relationship with Margo was changed. Maybe now they'd be more than neighbors and sometime-friends. Maybe she would actually talk to him in public, maybe in front of the cool kids. Maybe she would even kiss him. But that wouldn't happen, because Margo was gone. It wasn't the first time she had disappeared. But it would be the last, because Margo Roth Spiegelman wasn't coming back, and in the space that was created by her absence, everyone and everything changed.



About halfway through their Night of Revenge, Margo Took Quentin to what she said was one of her favorite places in town: the Sun Trust bank building downtown. Quentin thought it a weird choice, but of course followed her all the way up to the conference room on the top floor, from which they had a view of all of Orlando through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one wall. Quentin called the view beautiful, but Margo scoffed:

"Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You see how fake it all is...It's a paper town. I mean look at it, Q: look at all those cul-de-sacs...all those houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail...I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters."

In the days following her disappearance, Quentin thought about this and other statements Margo made that night. They suggested a level of unhappiness within her that he would once have thought impossible. But now he was confronted with the truth of it and he took it upon himself to save her.

I'd like to take a break here, to share a few words not only about Margo Roth Spiegelman, but also Alaska from Looking for Alaska, and the eponymous Katherine from An Abundance of Katherines.



I won't lie. I have a full-on awkward teenage crush on ALL of the troubled heroines I have encountered in John Green novels. My crush started with Alaska Young, continued with the final Katherine in An Abundance of Katherines, and reached a climax when I was introduced to Margo Roth Spiegelman in Paper Towns. When I read John Green's selfish, reckless, devil-may-care heroines I become a goose-pimply, heart-fluttery, stammering teenager. I wrote a love letter to them. Read it here. 


So Margo disappeared, and partly because he couldn't imagine life without her, and partly because he didn't want to, and partly because of the sad-and-enigmatic things she had said during their night together, Quentin vowed to save her. And in so doing, Quentin grew beyond himself. He grew more into the person Margo had always imagined him to be. And in the end, he did find her, but he also found that she didn't need to be saved. Moreover, Quentin discovered that Margo Roth Spiegelman was both MORE and LESS than the image of her he had carried in his heart. 



At the end of Paper Towns, Quentin and Margo Roth Spiegelman say goodbye to each other and also to the paper images they had created of one another. And they prepared to go out into the Great Beyond that awaits after childhood's end.

I truly cherished this book, and I highly recommend it. Have you read it? Share your thoughts with me in the comments!







My Love Letter to The Troubled Heroines of John Green Novels

Dear Katherine, Alaska, and especially Margo Roth Spiegelman:

I love you. I love your cleverly-disguised awkwardness. I love the masks you wear to hide your self-consciousness. I love how you curse and quote books above your reading level to express the feelings you can barely stand. I love how you lie. I love that you smoke, and drink, and lead impressionable boys on. I love that you find the future--and all life outside your borders--at once terrifying and impossible to resist. I love that you flirt with running away as easily as you flirt with suicide. I love that you treat philosophy as seriously as most girls your age treat college applications. I love that you scoff at such mundane things as college applications. I love how you collect ideas the way others collect stuffed animals and make-up. I love your daring. I love your recklessness. I love your careless disregard for other's feelings.


I. Love. You.