As promised, here is my list of favorite fiction from this
“year.” I know that it seems like I am liking every book I read, but I
promise…I don’t. There are plenty that get tossed aside after giving it a go (or even reading the whole thing and then not thinking it worthy to pass along).
Many of them live on my book shelves, or in piles around my house (mainly by my
bed), as do my books on my to-read list, which I promise to share later. And, by the way, my To-Read list is not the same as my Amazon Wish List. My To-Read list are
the books that I own but haven’t read, and my Wish List are
the books that I do not own yet, but wish I did. I wasn’t kidding when I said I
was addicted to books. In order to control some of the outrageous amounts of
money that I spent on books, I made a new rule for myself; unless I plan on
starting the book in the next few days, I have to write the name of the book
down to buy it later. This probably sounds logical to most of you, but for me it was a
terrific form of self-restraint. There are so many books I want that I
don’t actually trust myself to remember them. Hence the writing them down,
which helps, but I am still working on trusting myself to go back and look at
the list I’ve written. Ah, life's all about learning to trust yourself, isn't it (from the big things, like remembering books we like to the small things, like figuring out who we are...)?
Ok, back to my favorites. I once read an article by a middle-aged woman reader. She
said her grandmother always taught her that to give a book a fair chance, you
need to subtract your age from 100 and read at least that amount of pages in
the book. Her grandmother was 99, and, apparently, only needed to read one page
of a book. She said it had to do with your life experience and knowing your tastes better as you got older. She also said that she was 99 and didn’t have enough
time to waste more than one page on books she didn’t enjoy! Fair enough, I say.
So, this year (and by year I mean actual normal person year), I will usually try to give a book 71 pages before I
toss it aside.
That being said, here are my favorites from this year…
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary
Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows: This story is about so much more than a book club.
The book club sets the scene for how our characters are connected, but most of
the story happens outside of the book club. I haven’t read a story that is quite like this one. Although there is romance in it, the book does not focus on that. It is
about friendships and quirky people. It’s about a small town on a small island
that you, as a reader, end up very much wanting to be part of. I happened to
read this book on my Kindle (which I will talk about more another time) so wasn’t paying much attention to how far I had
gotten…the end completely snuck up on me and I was horrified (although the
ending was very satisfying) that I had to say goodbye to my new friends. What
makes this book even more touching is that it was written by an aunt and her
niece and the aunt has since passed away (this winter I believe). The book was just published Fall of '08. Be sure to watch
the video on Amazon…you’ll fall in love.
Five Coconuts
The American Wife by Curtis Sittenfield: This book is a
fictional account of Laura Bush and her relationship with George (though names
are changed). Although we know that much was fabricated, plenty was true—I was socked to find out what was actual. Anyone who has read Sittenfield
knows that she writes in candid, real prose. She does not skirt around issues
or descriptions. I love it (possibly because that’s the way I talk), and the
more uninhibited a story is, the more I connect with the characters. Although there is
a slow part in the middle (which is why this didn’t get five coconuts from me),
that is understood in a book that is so long. It did not hinder me from
finishing this book quickly, however, because even while reading the slower
part, you know the speed will resume, and you're eager to know how it will turn out.
Four Coconuts
The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett: I will not lie,
this book took me a year (a real calendar year and almost exactly to the day)
to finish. Not because it was uninteresting, because it was riveting, but rather I read so
many books in between. Also, because there were times that I was going through in my
real life where I couldn’t handle some of what was going on in the book. I did
bring this book to Europe with me last summer, though, and I was so engrossed
in it that I hardly noticed our train car fill up with Moroccan merchants who
were as shady as they were smelly. My friend, who I was traveling with, was
intensely worried and sticking her head out the window to breath while I was
like, “yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m reading, shhhhh.” (She’s probably laughing and
nodding right now). The only time I came up for air was when one of the merchants left his backpack unaccompanied in a conspicuous way (it took something like that to make me take my eyes off of the book and pay attention). I can’t tell you how much I loved this book. It has sex, romance, violence, adventure, death, birth, journeys, and more. It is epic and
I adored it. It is possibly my very favorite book ever. Possibly.
Five Coconuts
Very Valentine: A Novel by Adriana Trigiani: When I first heard the title of this
book I thought I would find it in the cheesy Romance section of Barnes and
Noble. I did not. It does have romance in it, but romance is more of a
character than a plot. The story is about reinvention and dreams. I was going
through a place in my life this year where I was trying to figure out more closely what my
dreams are, and this book hit the spot and inspired me. It was one of those
books that maybe you aren’t racing to find out what happens, but you don’t want
to put it down because it’s so comfortable to be reading it. Kind of like when
you aren’t particularly cold or tired, but your blanket is so cozy and you are so comfortable
on the couch that you just can’t get up and do anything else.
Four Coconuts
Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin: This is the first book
in a two part series. I adored this book. I devoured it. I think it is so well
written; the quality side of chick lit. Quality writing while in a genre that
relates to women so well. Although the plot of the story might sound
off-putting, I could not believe how much I ended up relating to/ liking the
main character. It takes a great
writer to make that happen. I highly recommend! If you only have time for two
books this summer, read these two…they’re great summer reading. The only
problem is you won’t want to leave your house until you’re finished. Just
remember that books are transportable and you can take it with you wherever you go!
Five Coconuts
Something Blue by Emily Giffin: This is the sequel to
Something Borrowed. You will be so glad it exists, yet you will wonder how you
can read it after connecting so well with the main character in the first book. And, as contradictory as it sounds after just saying how much I
related to the main character in the last book, I fully related to the main
character in this book too! (You will realize how interesting that is after
reading these). This is actually my favorite of the two. I was obsessed and
almost read it in one sitting. I loved it. I had so much fun, wanted to BE
there, and willed the book not to end. But it did. Bummer. Read it, love it, and don’t tell me if
you don’t. (Just kidding, you can tell me, but I’ll think you’re stupid. Does
sarcasm translate through blogs??? J).
Five Coconuts
So, there you have it. My favorite fiction (so far) from this "year". What's yours?
Happy Weekend, enjoy a good book!
xo,
The Coconut Librarian
P.S. I updated my Amazon Wishlist. I will try to remember to make note when I do so you can see which new books I'm looking at.
Jane Austen was a Chick-Lit Writer {and Thoreau was a hippie} ...
image from photobucket
Anyone who reads this blog can see that my reading taste stretches across a broad spectrum of literature. I read everything from paranormal romance (not often but I have), to chick-lit, to New York Times bestsellers, to award winners and finalists, to classics. I can be found reading young adult sometimes as well, and won't discount a good children's book.
I am a reader.
A book is a book is a book, and they all make my heart sing when I see them stacked on the shelves of a library or bookstore. I approach each one with the idea that I will like it. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. But I can almost always find something good in every story. And I most often can't relate to people who don't feel the same way. And there are loads of people who don't feel the same way. I have heard them referred to as pseudo-intellectuals, but I wonder. I wonder if they are real readers at all if a reader is someone who actually loves books. These people who easily poo-poo genres that they think are below them and have greater respect for readers who line their shelves with not only the hippest new titles, but also some of the most gruesome or depressing because, let's face it -- be it film or literature -- depressing often equals award winning. And how, as a lover of books, can you slam so many so easily? I understand not liking a genre, I can get behind that. There are a few that I never pick up. But I still feel like I'm on the same side as the people who read those books that are unattractive to me because they are readers too. To better understand the people who so ardently categorize a worthy read by what they and they alone enjoy, I took it upon myself to look into this a little further. I started with the definition of the word reader.
read·er (n.): one that reads
Okay. That's not what I was thinking. I was thinking, hmmm... I am a reader. I am a lover of books. All books. And as a teacher, I was an advocate of children. I didn't choose to only spend my time on the smartest ones or the most challenging or the ones who would garner me awards or accolades for my work in the classroom. I tried to find the good in all children, and champion them all in anyway I could. And I feel, as an advocate of reading, that I do the same things with books. So again, a book is a book is a book. They all do the same thing, in general. Expand your mind. Whether it's helping you to see the world in a new way, educating you, entertaining you, helping you escape from an unpleasant part of your life, or all of the above; shouldn't we be thankful for the variety? So what does that make me? Certainly not just a reader. So I dug around a little and came to this conclusion.
avid (adj.): 1. having an intense craving, greedy
2. eager and enthusiastic
Ah, I am an avid reader.
And as far as I can tell there is a difference. A difference between those who love the ambiance of books so much that they can spend a day lost in the library {or stop into a bookstore in a foreign country even though they can't read the titles just because it feels like home to them, or someone who sees another person reading a book and can't help but try to see what's being read and wondering if it should be added to one's own reading list} and the ones who somehow miss the magic. A difference maybe noted more plainly in the books that regular readers would have missed out on if avid readers didn't first make them popular enough for regular readers to "waste" their time on. And let's face it, that non-readers would never have known about at all. But that is another story, one in which I am completely baffled and more than a little judgmental, so we'll leave it at that. Or rather we'll leave it at this, my ode to the avid readers of the world, who help books become history...
facts taken from Wikipedia, Los Angeles Examiners, and The New York Times