In A Time of Libraries

“Libraries will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no libraries.” ― Anne Herbert 

There are two things that are almost solely responsible for my cultural development: the library and the radio.

As a young girl, the library feed my ferocious reading appetite as I checked out every Baby-Sitters Club book the local library had, along with anything else that caught my fancy. During my teenage years, the local library served both as my office (where we held many the creative/planning meeting for the radio show I co-produced during high school) and also where I dipped my toe into teen culture (thanks Teen People) and developed hobbies I still have today as I perused the latest issue of Fine Cooking. Even in college, the library was where I went, equipped with a huge mug of tea, to finish term papers I'd neglected until the last minute as well as to check out the occasional "for fun" book.

But despite being the library's number one fan, I've been absent from the local library in recent years. Lately, the only time I've popped into the library was to pick up a DVD on a winter day, when a storm is predicted and there are no Netflix on the immediate horizon. I'm not sure why I've been abandoning the library. Perhaps it just feels like one too many errands to run on a busy town trip. Perhaps I had  a lot of angst about the 28 day check out time not being long enough to finish a book.

I've also been falling into the trap of buying my books . . . all of them. Blame it on Amazon, or something, but I've been stuck in the mindset for a while that if I want to read a book, I need to buy it. Certainly there are books that should be purchased because they'll be read over and over again (Game of Thrones, A Discovery of Witches, etc.) but a lot of the books I've purchased in the last few years are destined to be read once, then occasionally leafed through before being donated or sold to Half Price books. And speaking of Half Price books, I have so many books I've grabbed from the clearance rack at Half Price that I may never finish, or even start. (*cough* Pilgrim at Tinker Creek *cough*) While I love to surround myself with books, lately it's been coming apparent that it's time to relearn the difference between books to buy and books to borrow.

So I'm trying to re-incorporate the library into my daily life. Last week when I wanted a book on running and Andy wanted a book on the Storm King Mountain tragedy which I thought my parents had but didn't, I did a quick search of the local library's catalog and realized I could find exactly what I was looking for in a 2 minute stop to the library. Could it be easier?

There's something so cathartic about the library. It's quiet. It's organized. It's always there when you need it. As I checked out my admittedly slim stack of books I wondered why it had taken me so long to come back.

Do you use the library? 
 
 

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Book Club Friday . . . Eat, Pray, Love style

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End the week with bookish chat. I share what I'm reading, you share what you're reading. If you've written a bookish post yourself in the last week or so, slap the above book club button on it and link up below!

I don't expect to make a habit of this, but today I'm writing about a book I haven't even finished yet.

I'm about a third of the way through Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, which is to say, she and I have just finished up a wonderful four months stuffing our faces with pasta in a whirlwind tour of Italy and are now just disembarking in India. If you missed the hoopla about Eat, Pray, Love which kind of "re-blipped" last year when the Julia Roberts flop of a movie edition (or so I've heard) came out, the basic premise is this: Elizabeth Gilbert, a successful, published short story author and magazine writer, decides to recover from an emotionally draining and long-drawn out divorce by spending a year traveling and living in Italy, India, and Indonesia. (Her publisher contracted Eat, Pray, Love before Gilbert even set foot on foreign ground . . . lucky.) 

So here I am again, reading another wildly popular book I was initially hesitant to delve into. Honestly, I was even more hesitant about this one than I was with The Help because in Eat, Pray, Love's case, I'd actually heard a bit of negative comments about the book, mainly that it was far too self-indulgent. The fact that it drew comparisons to Under The Tuscan Sun (which I detested didn't care for) wasn't exactly winning it any points either . . . Still, my curiosity was piqued. So I retrieved Eat, Pray, Love from the "to-be-read" stack.

It's no secret that I've been in a funk lately. Eat, Pray, Love may be just what the doctor ordered. Even if I'm not traveling this April, I get to go off gallivanting with Gilbert to mixture of new and familiar places around the world. And obviously Gilbert's mess of a divorce is way worse than any personal dissonance I might be experiencing around or in myself lately and acknowledgments of that nature always cheers me a rather morbid way. 

It reminds me of the power of literature to transport us to places far, far away from our everyday existence or stir up memories of places visited a while back.

Rome J-term 2006/2007

 The book reads as a bit self-centered, I suppose. Then again, I'm not sure what a book billed broadly as "a journey of self-discovery" is supposed to be and as a blogger, I'm as guilty of overusing the "I" pronoun as the next bloke. Sure the plot grows a little dull when she goes on about failed love affairs (maybe those are only truly interesting to those who have lived through those particular relationships?)  but she was such a large, charismatic cast of characters flitting through the scenes that I'll forgive her for maybe harping on about David just a little too long.   

If for nothing else, I am falling in love with Eat, Pray, Love for how honestly she deals with the same worries I do, especially when it comes to the "baby, baby not" conflict which seizes all females with a (presumably) working uterus: 

To create a family with a spouse is one of the most fundamental ways a person can find continuity and meaning in American (or any) society. I rediscover this truth every time I go to a big reunion of my mother's family in Minnesota and I see how everyone is held so reassuringly in their positions over the years. First you are a child, then you are a teenager, then you are a young married person, then you are a parent, then you are retired, then you are a grandparent -- at every stage you know who you are, you know what your duty is and you know where to sit at the reunion. But what if, either by choice or by reluctant necessity, you end up not participating in this comforting cycle of family and continuity? What if you step out? where do you sit at the reunion? How do you mark time's passage without the fear that you've just frittered away your time on earth without being relevant?

I can't wait to see what India and Indonesia will bring Elizabeth and I. Nothing like some good "armchair tourism" to help the funky days pass!

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Book Club Friday! Take Two!

It's Book Club Friday again: the semi-regular feature Of Woods and Words feature where I discuss my most recent read and invite you to do the same in the comment section.  

Today's read? Shelter by Sarah Stonich. 

Published just last month (no foolin'!), Shelter is the memoir of Minnesotan author Sarah Stonich's adventure of buying land in northern Minnesota and slowly developing a vacation compound. I'm always interested in hearing another person's take on  "my stomping grounds" and I was anxious to dive into short (208 page) read.

Stonich, who has read just about every published "up north" Minnesotan author there is, seems well aware of the risk of becoming overly romantic when writing about "living the dream" in northern Minnesota. The land she purchases is not far from the small town where her parental grandparents lived and raised their many children and as such, Stonich must walk the line of being not quite a local, not quite just another Twin Cidiot cabin owner, not only in the community by the cabin, but also through the pages of Shelter. 

When she describes her cabin's location on "the butt end of the Canadian Shield,"I kind of wished for a little more romance than I got and I also wondered if anyone living outside of the upper Midwest would get what she was talking about. She makes it clear that this is no charmed summer cabin where funds are unlimited and the sun always shining. She writes of the various building project on the property, the largest of which is a 10 x 12 cabin, a far cry from the usual new cabin and so teeny I couldn't help but think "omigod, that sounds awful." No one should ever have to call a cousin of the Shack (homey as it was) their vacation home. In fact, by the end of the book, it's uncertain whether or not Stonich will hold on to her cabin. 

I found myself longing/waiting for a detailed description of what everyday life at the cabin was like. Instead I heard about her internet dating exploits and her now-grown son's travels to Japan. No doubt, Stonich incorporated these details of her life in the Twin Cities to help drive home just what exactly the cabin was meant to provide "shelter" from, but to be honest, I often find memoir authors, bogged down by knowing all the little details of the "whole story," often fail to edit their back story down to barest, most poignant kernel of fact needed to infuse their prose with depth and meaning. Likewise, Stonich's chapter devoted to her immigrant grandparents is probably the book's most compelling chapter, yet seems slightly out of place in the midst of a narrative that otherwise discusses retaining walls, dovetail construction, and the logistics of punching in a road to the property.  

Is it cabin construction memoir? A divorced mother memoir? A "my ancestors" memoir? It's all three in one memoir and sometimes the edges of the three themes doing more running into each other than melting down into one intertwined story.

Stonich has lovely things to say about the human need for wilderness, but I wonder if her thoughts are remarkable, or unique, enough to have people shuffling around their bookshelves to squeeze Shelter in next to their Sigurd Olson books. But if you're looking to escape to the north woods, at least in your heart, Stonich's take on the area is both heartfelt and down to earth and her cabin world is one worth wandering through.

Bottom line: A decent read if you're interested in the area, but probably not enough of a story to appeal to anyone without some innate knowledge of life in MN. Perhaps it wasn't meant to.   

Do you like memoirs? What are you reading right now?

Happy Reading and Happy Friday!

(Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book, but this review is based on nothing other my true opinion.)

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Seeking Inspiration: Favorite Writing Books

To be perfectly honest, this March has not been my month.

Remember back when I asked "Do I dare?" Apparently, I dare not because I still have 50,000 words to get tapped out by Thursday to make my goal of writing 50,000 words in the month of March. That's right my friends, I've written a grand total of 0 fiction words this month and unless I got paid to write it, I didn't and even those deadlines were dealt with capriciously. I guess a month that kicked off with a nasty bout of stomach flu about 20 minutes into March 1 and involved lengthy dealings with the auto insurance people (oh black ice, you are not my friend) wasn't destined to be my most inspired 31 days.

But enough about me. While I've gotten a lot of knitting done this month (more on that later this week!) that's not really moving me along towards becoming a self-employed freelance writer. What I need is a kick in the butt. While I try to assure beginning writers that they really don't need to immerse themselves in "how to write" books before actually pursuing a writing career (just get writing!), I do find inspiration and sometimes, answers to puzzling aspects of the lifestyle, in the pages of writing books. When I'm really having a "black dog" sort of writing day, thumbing through one of these tomes is usually enough to get me back on track. 

Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird is, for me, the definitive writing book. I read this in high school when I was first contemplating throwing away all of my worthy career plans becoming a writer. Since then, I've been assigned the book in college and have come back to the pages multiple times on my own. Heartfelt advice with a healthy dose of humorous real life experience, Lamott tells it like it is and in the process makes us realize we're not alone in our struggle with the blank page. Definitely a book that I think deserves to be on every writer's bookshelf. Actually, it should be within arm's reach on every writer's desk. 

 I've only read Jane Yolen's Take Joy in its entirety once, but I often leaf through it and never fail to stumble upon a meaningful passage. Yolen was one of my favorite children's writers and as a result, it feels like advice in this book is coming from a beloved elder. Yolen's most powerful advice? This writing gig is supposed to be a really good time. If it doesn't bring you joy, what's the point, eh? This advice is so obvious, yet never fails to hit me hard with an "oh yeah . . . "

The Productive Writer by Sage Cohen just came out in the last half-year or so and is a book for those serious about turning their writing in their career and their lifestyle. While book does repeat itself a fair bit (perhaps since Cohen is obviously trying to comply with a 200-page contract), I found much of the advice in this book fresh, helpful, and totally in tune with the reality of writing in 2011. Most importantly, The Productive Writer reminds you that there are enough hours in the day to do meet your writing goals. Turns out it's all about choosing writing over knitting. Who knew? 

I've long be on the prowl  for a freelance writing book that deals with the stuff I don't quite grasp about a freelance career yet doesn't dwell on the stuff that I've already heard many times before. Michael Perry's Handbook for Freelance Writing is the best "how to" book I've found on the craft. Maybe I find the book's writing and advice so appealing because Perry's from the Midwest. He makes freelance writing sound like something even us A- personality types might succeed at. You should note that the book was written in the 1990s and as a result some of the advice (especially regarding technology) is glaringly out of date. The bare bones of the book are good enough to warrant overlooking this "issue" and I would totally buy a revised 2011 version of the book if it was available. Hear that Mr. Perry?

Do you have a favorite writing book? Or a favorite "how to" book? 

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Book Club Friday

Happy Friday everyone! Today I'm introducing a semi-regular Friday feature (aka as frequently as I finish a book worth talking about) called Book Club Fridays! Grab a cup of tea or joe, get your reading glasses in place and get ready to talk books. We're leaving the woods behind and going all words today.

Today's selection? The Help, Kathryn Stockett's debut novel.

 

I tend to stray away from super popular books for two reasons. One, I'm afraid they won't live up to the hype. Two, there's nothing worse than being told "you have to read" something. I didn't get around to reading Harry Potter until Prisoner of Azkaban was released. Subsequently, it took the last person in my super informal real life book club finishing The Help and mentioning how much they enjoyed it for me to finally decide to borrow the oft-offered copy and give it a go.   

 

Set in the early 1960s in Jackson, Mississippi, The Help follows the lives of three women -- Aibileen, Minny, and Miss Skeeter -- through the Civil Rights era turmoil. Aibileen and Minny are both black maids who work, often for less than minimum wage in white households, cooking meals, tending children, and cleaning house. Meanwhile Miss Skeeter, a recent college graduate with few marriage prospect, begins to question her place in the circle of privileged white women who hire "the help." 

 

While initially turned off by the highly criticized use dialect for Aibileen's narrative, I forgot my "issues" with the dialect by about page 4.  By page 50 I was completely engrossed in the world of Jackson (and as result have had Johnny Cash stuck in my head ever since). The novel shifts between the viewpoint of the three main characters, not an easy feat to pull off, and the narratives mesh together beautifully. The story, intertwined with history, humor, love, and heartache, reads like a true labor of love.

I get where people are coming from with criticism for the book; perhaps the book is an overly rosy, simplified look at this historic time. However, calling Stockett out for taking licenses with time seems petty when Stockett fully acknowledges these discrepancies in her afterword. A misplaced reference to Shake N' Bake is hardly enough to undermine the entire integrity of the novel. Stockett does succeed in bringing the uncomfortable reality of Jackson, MS in the 1960s into the living room of many people who would, like that famous Southern belle Scarlett O'Hara, prefer to "think about that tomorrow." Overly rosy and simplified perhaps, but through her fiction, Stockett reaches out to a much larger audience then a stuffy book of sociology about these same facts ever would.

 

When I was 13, my family took a "Civil Rights" tour of the South, traveling through Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. The Help reinforced much of what I learned on that trip as well as opened my eyes to different, less publicized elements of the Civil Rights movement. Not only does The Help contain an important U.S. history lesson, I found it whetted my appetite for some more Southern literature. Queue the Harper Lee and Carson McCullers!

 

Bottomline: The Help is a satisfying, thought-provoking read that keeps the pages turning and reader engaged and is a true testimony to the power of story.

What book are you reading these days?

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