Lost Time

Well, I guess that's just what happens at the end of the school year...I get completely sidetracked by the things that aren't as important as this blog!
Let's just play a little catch- up, shall we, and pretend the whole hiatus never happened!

About a month ago, I read Cat's Eye, by Margaret Atwood. This was a great Christmas gift from the Taosaians (how's that spelling?), and I enjoyed it very much. Is there anything Atwood has written that I won't adore? Probably not, but I'll keep searching and trying. The story is somewhat chilling, and this is the second book of hers (The Robber Bride being the other) where the main character has a fear for women in the next generation that is revealed as unnecessary. The mothers in both books live in fear that their daughters will run into the same troubles as they did -- sadistic girlfriends, empty relationships -- and in both books, the character sees the daughters as a sort of tough hybrid of themselves, not prone to the same difficulties, for whatever reason. As a woman from the generation after Atwood, I find this to be a fascinating idea -- that somewhere between her generation and the one I inhabit comes a hardiness whose origin is unknown. Of course, everyone likes to think they're tougher than they really are -- myself being no exception.

After that, I went on to a novel called The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. I'll have to remember his name and look into his body of work, because this book was great. The last time I felt moved to tears at the end of a book was when I read A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving. (Don't even think about watching the horrific "Simon Birch" movie that is periously based on this fantastic novel -- it's all kinds of awful.) The Book of Lost Things is a quasi-modern fairy tale, reminiscent of Pan's Labyrinth, actually. Very good.

And then I fell into league with a series! Now, one of my guilty pleasures is monster books. Monsters like vampires, werewolves, and the like. Most of them can be pretty trashy, like this series. (I'm not kidding when I say this is a guilty pleasure. I can't believe I'm admitting that I enjoy some of these books in a public arena.) But this latest series I found is just plain fun! It's the Sookie Stackhouse series, by mystery author, Charlaine Harris. Plus, they'll be making it into an HBO series in the fall, called "True Blood," I think. The characters are great, interesting, and it's just great pop-fiction. Makes me feel not so guilty after all.

I also read Holy Fools and Sleep, Pale Sister by Joanne Harris. Holy Fools may be the best book of hers I've read. And I also just finished Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende. So even though I've been silent in cyberworld, I have been devouring those books and keeping up with my reading. Swear.
Now that summer is upon me, I know I'll have more time to write about what I'm reading. I just went to the library today for more Atwood, some Michael Pye, and Barbara Kingsolver!