Freedom for adventures!
I know all one of you who read this have been waiting patiently for me to finish Thrilling Tales so I can write about it, but fear not, I finished it a couple of weeks ago and have actually since finished another book as well. But before we get into the real business of this blog, a quick update on life.
Two weeks ago marked the end of my grad school career (because I’m graduating, not because I’m quitting) and yesterday solidified my 4.0 reign over the Publication Management program. It was a little shaky at the end, but I prevailed and my grade report now hangs with glory on my parent’s refrigerator, where it will remain for the next five years.
Nick recently got a new job, so be sure to read all of his articles on thefreedictionary.com and the freelibrary.com once he starts on Monday. Not only does this mean he no longer has to cover municipal and school board meetings, but also means he can go to Frisbee every week when it starts in June (and carpool! Yes!) and that we are one step closer to achieving item #6 on my Things to Do in 2008 list (Buy a house). We are very close, people! You are invited to the party when we get one (which will be a very small party if this proves to be our only means of inviting people).
McSweeney's Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales, Michael Chabon, ed.
Thrilling Tales promised to bring me all new, never before seen, original stores, and that, by god, it did. All of my favorite subjects were covered: time travel, the end of the world, cats, revenge, true love… wait a minute. Seriously though, the stories were delightfully strange and adventurous. “Catskin” was about a boy whose mother turned into a cat after she died, and then she burned down a house with cats in it, and then sewed him what was essentially a cat-skin hoodie, and every now and then he decided to put the hoodie on and walk around on all fours like a cat. I’m still trying to figure out any metaphors or ssssssymbolism, although it may have just been a really weird story. And I’m all for that! Because I am weird. And because I absolutely love cats, some might say bordering on obsessed (the only thing holding me from plunging into full crazy cat lady status is Nick, and I’m not sure that will prevent me in the future. He has limited me to only having one cat at a time, which I guess I agree with because if I had more than one I’d never get anything done, I’d just sit all day admiring how freaking adorable they are and running around the house with them playing tag). Although I don’t think I would ever sew cat hides together to make myself a little cat jacket. That seems a bit too far.
Thrilling Tales marked the first works I have read by Michael Crichton and Stephen King. I know, very hard to believe that I’ve never read Stephen King, but there it is. And they were back-to-back. The rate at which Stephen King pushes out stuff is amazing to me. It makes me wonder if he actually still enjoys writing, or if it has become so commonplace to him that he doesn’t really even have to try anymore. Because that would be sad. But at the same time, does he really have to try anymore? He’s built up such a substantial platform that I think people will buy his books even if they are crap. Does Michael Crichton still write books? To be honest, I was (obviously) never too interested in either, and I’m not really any more interested now.
I have to say that my favorite story in the whole collection was Nick Hornby’s “Otherwise Pandemonium.” What is it with me and apocalyptic scenarios? I do enjoy them, although I can’t recall reading a book with such a premise. But “Pandemonium” took apocalypse to a different level by adding in a time-travel-y aspect that is really fun and had me frantically turning the pages so I could find out what happens. Not since High Fidelity have I been that engrossed in Hornby’s stuff, and it was refreshing to experience it again. Please don’t disappoint me with another book like A Long Way Down. Seriously, man. Don’t.
And there are still so many other great stories! One about a detective investigating the death/murder of Hitler’s neice/lover. A stream-of-thought-ish recount of a drug epidemic in NYC that included conspiracy theories and apocalyptic scenarios (this was a jackpot other than the somewhat annoying stream-of-thought-ishness which made me feel like I was on drugs). One weird one about a husband and wife who collected salt and pepper shakers and ended up killing each other (I’m still not sure why). A tale about a circus elephant that gets hanged (this had some great twists in it that I can’t give away but made the story have an amazing structure). One war story about a general who escapes and seeks refuge with a girl and her grandmother that I didn’t think I’d enjoy, but did, because it was not only touching but really pissed me off at the end. (Isn’t it great when a book/story really gets an emotion out of you?!) A story about a guy who is working at an archeological dig and the mischief a writer stirs up when she comes to do some research. I could go on and on! They were all great, which is rare in a short story collection (in my experience, anyway).
Dave Eggers’ “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly” really geared me up to read What is the What?, the pick for this year’s One Book One Philadelphia, which Nick and I intend on reading at the same time and discuss (in case you had, until now, escaped the fact that we are total nerds, hello, we are!). I am also pumped to one day read You Shall Know Our Velocity!, which Nick picked up for me at a book sale the other day. It goes without saying that I have no business buying or receiving any books at this point, given that my “To Read” shelf is now overflowing onto the already overflowing shelves on my bookshelf and throughout my tiny tiny bedroom. I don’t know where to put them anymore! My box set of hardcover Harry Potter’s that I got for Christmas, thanks to my understanding parents, resides in their family room downstairs, but until the insanely joyous day that I get to move out of my parents house, I have no idea where I am going to start putting all of my loot. In the last month alone, thanks to bargain books and used book sales, I have gotten the following:
You Shall Know Our Velocity! by Dave Eggers
What is the What? By Dave Eggers (I know I already mentioned these two, but I felt the need to include them in order to entirely disclose my what should be shame at buying even more books when I have about 70 unread ones.)
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
Summerland by Michael Chabon
The Wonder Spot by Melissa Bank
Then We Came to an End by Joshua Ferris
Bait and Switch by Barbara Ehrenreich
And as a gift for being done grad school, Nick bought me a hardcover box set of: Charlotte’s Web, Stuart Little, and The Trumpet of the Swan all by E.B. White, of course. Aren’t the illustrations in Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little absolutely fantastic? Garth Williams is amazing. They make me so nostalgic for library class in elementary school and that book of ghost stories that I always checked out even though it was really easy to read, with the story about the girl who wore a green ribbon around her neck, which, to the surprise of her boyfriend, Alfred, held her head on. (Exciting! Just found that book: In a Dark, Dark Room and Other Scary Stories.) I also remember really liking the word Caldecott, as in the medal for illustrations. There’s just something really nice about it that makes me feel happy. I think we had a Caldecott winner visit our library once, and I’ve always been happy when surrounded by books, so maybe that’s why. But who knows where my weirdness evolves from, it just does.
A book is always the perfect gift for any occasion. One of my last classes was Book Proposals and I came up with an idea to make a book of gift suggestions for every occasion. Although the flaw of this idea is that most people would probably just browse the book in the bookstore and not buy it, because why would you if it was available for reference in the exact location where you would buy the gift? Perhaps a website instead. But that’s a project for another time. You should buy Thrilling Tales for the adventure seeker in your life. Someone who isn’t afraid to be a nerd or weird or crazy or gremlin, and likes going on long journeys that aren’t predictable.
Up next: My thoughts on Confessions of a Tax Collector: One Man's Tour of Duty Inside the IRS by Richard Yancey
After that: Specimen Days by Michael Cunningham (currently reading)
