Why? A Good Book!

Cover via Amazon

I work in a high school library so it’s not surprising that I read a lot of YA fiction (that’s Young Adult to those of you outside the publishing/library world).  In fact, it would be safe to say that at least half (if not more) of the fiction I read is YA.  This is not just because I feel slightly less guilty about reading at work when I’m reading something from the collection — because part of my job is recommending books to students who ask for “a good book”, and how can I know which ones are good if I haven’t read them all? — but because this stuff is really GOOD.

Back when I was a “young adult” (way back in the Jurassic period when dinosaurs roamed the earth and the Sony Walkman was state of the art) there wasn’t a whole lot of good YA fiction.  It was mostly Judy Blume and Paul Zindel and everything had some sort of silly title like “Will You Be My Hamburger?” or “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret” or “Run For Your Life, It’s a Giant Turnip!” (Can you guess which one of those I made up?)  Reality fiction and “problem fiction” ruled the roost and everything else seemed to be fluffy romance or sports books for boys.

Today, the YA market is amazingly varied.  Vampires and “Pretty Little Liars” wannabes are popular, of course, but that’s not all that’s out there.  I have read some lovely and thought provoking books over the last few years (and a few that are just plain fun):

• His Dark Materials series by Philip Pullman (fantasy)
• Chanda’s Secrets by Alan Stratton (AIDS in Africa)
• Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld (science fiction – dystopia)
• The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation Vol. 1 : The Pox Party by M. T. Anderson (historical fiction)
• The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie (life on the rez with a sense of humor)
• Confessions of Georgia Nicolson series by Louise Rennison (just silly British fun)
• Airborn series by Kenneth Oppel (steampunk adventure)
• Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson (eating disorders)
• The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins (science fiction – dystopia)
• Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld (steampunk awesomeness)
• The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly (historical fiction)
• The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater (fantasy with man-eating water horses)
• Going Bovine by Libba Bray (inspired insanity — literally, it’s about a kid who gets Mad Cow disease)
• Beauty Queens by Libba Bray (satire and wackiness complete with beauty products and pirates — plus an exploding volcano)
• Little Brother by Cory Doctorow (a glimpse into the future?)
• Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly (historical fiction)
• anything by John Green (just read his books, they are damn good)
• A Swift Pure Cry by Siobhan Dowd (an amazing Irish writer who sadly passed away last year)
• Impossible by Nancy Werlin (contemporary fantasy)
• Maze Runner series by James Dashner (science fiction adventure)
• Amy & Roger’s Epic Detour by Morgan Matson (road trip romance)
• The Name of the Star by Maureen Johnson (supernatural thriller)
• Chime by Franny Billingsley (quirky historical fantasy)

I could go on and on (and on and on …) but my hands are getting tired of typing.  Suffice it to say that if you are looking for a good read, the YA section of the library or bookshop should be your first stop.

Related articles

• Book Review : Beauty Queens (mohighlibrary.wordpress.com)
• Dystopian YA Novels: It’s the End of the World as We Know It… (wired.com)

The Great Textbook Tragedy of 2001

This picture isn't from 2001 but it gives you an idea of what we were dealing with (this is before checking books out to the kids at the beginning of the year)

As requested by Mother Theresa, here is the Tale of the Great Textbook Tragedy of 2001 ….

In that long ago summer, when the school district actually had money to buy lots of brand new textbooks, a huge shipment arrived at MoHi.  There were so many books, in fact, that even after all the students had checked out their books and class sets had been delivered to classrooms, we still had stacks of books on the tables and floor of the library reading room. 

Students and teachers were pounding down the door (well, not literally, but you know …) to get in and check out library books and do research (and print things out — the main reason any self-respecting teenager goes to the library) so those books had to go somewhere.  Therefore, they were banished to the dark realm known as Textbook Land (aka the shelves in the back of the textbook room).

The library ladies were pressed into hard labor, loading books on carts and wheeling them across the border between Library Land and Textbook Land, then shoving them onto the groaning shelves (okay, the shelves weren’t groaning, we were).  With the ravening hordes pounding on the gates (erm … students knocking politely at the door) it was a race against time to get the fields of Library Land cleared so that the minions could roam freely through the stacks and sprawl across the tables “doing their homework.”  In our haste to finish our grueling task, we loaded and unloaded books from the carts by twos and threes instead of one at a time.  Now, remember, these books are THICK and my hands are wee. 

By the end of the ordeal, my hands were aching and sore all the time.  And so, even as the Ordeal of the Biology Books ended, the Saga of the Workmen’s Comp Claim began.

To make a long story short (if that’s possible … I’ve been rambling on for a while now, haven’t I?) I spent about a year and a half in and out of doctor’s offices, taking various anti-inflamatory medications; getting cortisone shots; wearing an assortment of splints, wraps and even a cast; taking prednisone and other dubious treatments; and having surgery on my left hand that didn’t really do anything at all.  By the time my claim was discharged, I’d been to at least 4 different doctors (including one at USC Medical Center who couldn’t figure out what the surgeon had done and basically told me “You’ll probably end up with arthritis in those joints”) and had no firm diagnosis.  I was, however, declared legally permanently partially disabled, which meant I had to go to the District Office and explain how I could do my job (which I had continued to do for roughly two years) with my “new” work restrictions.

Bottom line, I was left with a pair of very sad and pathetic hands with weak and angry thumb joints.  The best explanation I got was that my joints are naturally “loose” and picking up those two and three book stacks stretched the joints beyond where they should go and basically ruined them.  I can no longer hand write for any length of time; after a minute or so, my thumbs start aching and I have to stop.  I also can’t do requires that sort of grip, like crocheting or pretty much any other sort of craft.  This is part of the reason why I don’t write as much as I used to, because now I have to have a keyboard if I’m going to write anything longer than a short note.

So, there you have it: the Great Textbook Tragedy of 2001.

Textbook Inferno

I registered for spring semester classes last week.  I’m pretty excited about the HIST 103 class (History of World Civilization to 1500) but a bit nervous about ECON 102 (Microeconomics).  I have a bit of a phobia about economics after a bad experience in an inferno during my senior year of high school (long story …).  Fortunately, the AP Microeconomics teacher at the school where I work is very nice and has offered to help me out if I need it.

Now I am in that awkward time between registering for the classes and waiting for them to start (February 22).  My textbooks will be arriving soon — hooray for Amazon.com and used textbooks — and book geek that I am, I’ll be stacking them up neatly and then flipping through them, then stacking them neatly again.  Even in junior high and high school, I was one of the few kids who was excited about getting new textbooks at the beginning of the year.

Let the Simplifying Begin

Image via Wikipedia

It’s official … I have begun the de-cluttering process!  Fingers crossed that I can keep chipping away at it.  So far I’ve:

• sold a box of books to Powell’s Books
• donated 4 bags of books and one bag of assorted clothes, handbags, etc. to Goodwill
• sorted through some of my jewelry and set aside quite a bit to give to my friend who makes jewelry, hair adornments and fascinators — she can cannibalize whatever she wants and give away or donate the rest

It’s not enough to notice a difference in my bedroom yet, but I know it’s been done and that’s what counts.  It’s not just the physical clutter that needs to be cleared out but the mental clutter as well.

 

Distraction #4,932

Image by IslesPunkFan via Flickr

I’ve had my Kindle Fire since last Wednesday, which means I have yet another distraction to keep me from writing.  Add it to the list of: work, second job, studying, Facebook, real books, adorable cats, eating, showering, sleeping, horse races, magazines and random shiny objects.

I had mixed feelings about using an e-reader, because I have a hard time really reading anything on the computer screen, but I am loving it.  I think the key is that I am able to turn the pages instead of scrolling.  When I have to scroll through a document, my eyes glaze over and I end up skimming rather than reading: I think it’s because I lose my place in the text too easily.  I’m used to seeing text one page at a time and the Kindle Fire provides that for me.

So far, my biggest problem has been: what do I call it?  If I just say “Kindle” does that imply the device is simply an e-reader?  If I say “Fire” does it sound weird (“Have you seen my Fire?”)?  Do I really have to say “Kindle Fire” every time, thereby wasting precious seconds of my life?

Whatever I call it, this is a dandy little device.  I still prefer viewing websites on my laptop, and the tiny virtual keyboard does not lend itself to creating large amounts of text, but I love the convenience and speed of being able to turn on the Fire to quickly check my email or Facebook.  If I’m in the mood to read, there are books; if I want to take a break and play a game, there’s an app for that.  I haven’t uploaded my music to the Amazon Cloud Player yet (which will allow me to access it via the Fire) but I have tried the Amazon Prime free video streaming service (“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!” — you’ve gotta love any piece of technology that lets you watch Monty Python anywhere there is a wireless connection).   I bought one digital magazine, just to try out the format, but I can safely say that print magazines are definitely for me.  Maybe on a larger screen, like an iPad, but the Fire screen is just too small for me to read a full magazine page, and zooming and scrolling around the page is just too annoying.  But for the price, I’m willing to forego digital magazines (besides, I already have physical subscriptions to the digitally available magazines I would be interested in).

Playing with Fire

Image by matthewvenn via Flickr

I just pre-ordered the new Amazon Kindle Fire.  I’m not normally an early adopter of technology (heck, I just got a phone with a qwerty keyboard!) but I’ve been coveting an e-reader (and the iPad) for some time now.  In fact, before I found out Amazon was coming out with their own color tablet, I was planning to get a Barnes & Noble Nook Color when my B&N membership renewal comes up (new and renewing members get $25 off a Nook Color).  Now, however, I am getting a Kindle Fire for $199 (less the $40+ in credit I have in my Amazon account) — nearly $100 less than the Nook would be. 

Do I need an e-reader or a tablet?  No.  I have hundreds of books waiting to be read or re-read on my shelves, a perfectly servicable laptop computer, thousands of books available at work, thousands more at the public library … but I do want a shiny tech toy and gosh darn it, I’m gonna get one.

 

Related articles

• Amazon unveils $199 Kindle Fire tablet (seattletimes.nwsource.com)
• Amazon’s Kindle Fire tablet to sell for $199, report says (news.cnet.com)

Dr. Typelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Font

Image via Wikipedia

I’ve been reading Just my type : a book about fonts by Simon Garfield, which was one of my free books for renewing my subscription to The Folio Society.  I’ve always loved playing around with fonts and it takes me a while to great a sign or flyer at work because I always want to pick just the right font.  Working with teenagers, I tend to fall back on Comic Sans a lot which, according to Garfield, is horribly overused and vilified by typeface elitists.  Oh, dear … what other clean, fun looking font can I use?! (Gee, I could have used an interrobang there)

Then again, these are teenagers I’m dealing with and they never actually read anything, even if it’s directly in front of their faces in flashing neon letters six inches high.  Will anyone really care if my signs are well-designed or not?

I care, and that should be reason enough to take the time to match the font to the message, right?  I will, however, try to cut back on the Comic Sans madness and avoid good old Times New Roman (another overused font).  Maybe I’ll start using Garamond; I just love that name …

Related articles

• Book Review: Just My Type: A Book About Fonts by Simon Garfield (blogcritics.org)
• Know This Headline’s Font? You’re ‘Just My Type’ (npr.org)
• Five Fascinating Font Facts From Simon Garfield’s New Book, Just My Type (woot.com)

Plenty of Reading Ahead

Image via Wikipedia

The information for my Fall 2011 classes is now posted on Blackboard.  According to the professor for History of Music, the class will require 7-10 hours online per week.  The syllabus for Introduction to Philosophy includes readings from three texts, weekly online chats, three short essays, a mid-term essay and a final exam essay.  I’m going to be quite the busy scholar this time around, but I’m looking forward to both classes.  I don’t really know much about music.  I took a few music lessons as a kid (flute, accordion) but nothing stuck.  I can’t tell you what a certain note is or any of that, but I am interested in history so I’m hoping the History of Music class will be a little easier for me.

I’m intrigued by the philosophy class after reading several of Alexander McCall Smith‘s Isabel Dalhousie novels.  Isabel is a philosopher and editor of the Journal of Applied Ethics.  A great deal of each story has to do with Isabel’s wrestling with moral dilemmas, often brought on by her habit of sticking her nose in other peoples’ business.

Classes don’t start for two weeks, so I have a little time to peruse the new offerings from the Folio Society.  This is always a dangerous time of year for my bank account, when the new renewal offer appears and the first batch of new books to be published is released.  Last year, I wasn’t tempted by the renewal offer but this year the free gifts are:

• The earth: an intimate history by Richard Fortey, which I have already read and enjoyed
• A history of the world in 100 objects by Neil MacGregor
• The new atlas of world history
• Year round things to do, a reprint of a 1966 Penguin children’s book
• 2012 Folio Society diary
• Just my type by Simon Garfield, a history of fonts

Geology, history, a British children’s book, fonts … all the things I am prone to geek out on.  Now I just have to decide which four books I want to splurge on in order to get the freebies.  I already know I want The call of the wild and Farenheit 451 but the other two choices will have to be carefully weighed.  Wish me luck!

E-reader Envy

Dreaming of a shiny new e-reader

When I got to work today, the librarian showed us her new “toy,” which she’d bought over the weekend with her winnings from a trip to Las Vegas: a Barnes & Noble nookcolor.  One English teacher, who was in the library with her class doing research, was raving over her brand-new Kindle; another, who came in later in the day, showed off her Literati e-reader.  And now I am suffering some severe e-reader envy.

I know I don’t need an e-reader (I have more than enough “real” books to last me a long, long time) but gosh, darn it, I want one!  I want to be like the rest of the cool kids and carry 1500 books around in one hand.  It doesn’t have to be the swanky nookcolor; just a plain vanilla Kindle would make me quite happy.  But I just can’t drop $139 or more on a “gadget.”  So, I have devised a little scheme that will solve more than one dilemma:

I am going to sell as many books as I can online and once I have made enough money, I will buy myself a shiny new Kindle.  I just shipped a box of  books off to Powell’s Books last week, which netted me a little over $15, so I’m on my way.  Between Powells and Amazon.com (and possibly eBay) I’m hoping that I will (a) get rid of a lot of the books taking up space in my bedroom and (b) make enough money to buy the Kindle, thereby (c)eliminating the need to buy as many physical books in the future, which will (d) keep me from getting buried in a future avalanche of books.

For right now, I’m going to log off the computer and spend some quality time with Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger and the latest issue of O: the Oprah Magazine.  Both of them printed on good, old-fashioned paper.

Junk Sculpture : Awful Library Books

Junk Sculpture : Awful Library Books

I love the website Awful Library Books. So I was delighted when I stumbled across a potentially “awful” book when I was shelf reading at work last month. Apparently, the keepers of the Awful Library Books website agree with me, because my find is featured in today’s post!

Check it out (and try not to look too closely at the “Clown with Hat” – I don’t want you to have nightmares) and while you’re there, browse through some of the past “winners” of the coveted title of Awful Library Book.