Books for May, 2002

My list is short this month. I had a period of about a week there where I couldn't figure out what I wanted to read.

Fire in Their Eyes: Wild Fires and the People Who Fight Them by Karen Magnuson Beil - Research for the story I've put aside

The Dubious Hills by Pamela Dean (Re-read)

Welcome to My Planet, Where English is Sometimes Spoken by Shannon Olson. A semi-autobiographical work, I understand, and a bit peculiar to read because the author went to the same college I went to and went through the same graduate school program I went to--it was like reading about someone who had taken my life and lived it totally differently.

Wizard's Hall by Jane Yolen

Wind From a Foreign Sky by Katya Reiman

A Tremor in the Bitter Earth by Katya Reiman - I have mixed feelings about these two. There were things in the first that irritated me, but enough in it was interesting enough that I picked up the second. That was too violent for my tastes (I did NOT like what she did to the kids in that book). The whole thing made me think again about the talk Stan (Kim Stanley Robinson) gave us at Clarion about writing violence. It was his assertion that writers need to use violence more sparingly--we tend to use it too unthinkingly, without considering the real consequences (or how rarely it actually happens). Most writers, too, he suggested, just were copying TV violence when they got into a corner, without thinking it through--an easy out. Will I read her next? Um . . . not sure. Probably. I do like to support local writers. And as I said, there are some things she's doing that I like. Will be interesting to see how she develops.

Half Magic by Edward Eager

Knight's Castle by Edward Eager

As I mentioned, I'm reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman now. That'll be on next month's list.

I've gotten some great suggestions for what to do tonight on my message below. Keep those suggestions coming!

My Mom's night out

My Elven brooch pin arrived today! I pinned it to my black japanese-style coat and wore it when I went out tonight. The black simplicity made it stand out beautifully; it looked splendiferous. I shall wear it often.

After duly considering the suggestions made in my LiveJournal comments, I decided to do something I have never done before and went to Kieran's Irish Pub for the evening. I don't like any kind of beer at all, but I ordered a Guinness, which is something I do about once every two years or so. I took a sip and the shock of memory that the taste brought back was startlingly strong: I suddenly remembered sitting on the patio of one of the pubs (it was called "The Mill," maybe? I think?) overlooking the River Cam in Cambridge, England, over twenty years ago. There are punters going slowly by in the river. It's late afternoon, and I am tasting my first pint of Guinness ever, screwing up my face at the bitter taste as my friends around me all laugh.

I drank about a fifth of the pint I was served tonight and decided that was about enough for another two years. I want to like it, but I still don't. The first sip goes down okay, it's "interesting," and I like savoring the memories that it evokes, but I just don't care for the taste after the first three swallows or so. The pot roast sandwich they brought for my dinner, on the other hand, was so good I almost cried: tender, juicy meat with caramelized onions--they flavored the gravy with Guinness; I decided I liked my Guinness better that way. The potatoes were flavored with garlic and chopped scallions; delicious.

I sat there for a long time in the open air patio, reading American Gods. I laughed at what the Raven said to Shadow when Shadow asked him to say "Nevermore." I ran across this on p. 323:

"Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives."

Live Irish music started at 9:00 (guitar, flute, concertina, pipes, bodhran, etc). I stayed until 10:30, until my yawns seemed to grow too frequent, and then left to come home. I tipped the waitress hugely; she had not seemed peeved in the least that I had taken up one of her tables for over three hours, but apparently many people do, so that they can listen to the music.

Verdict on tonight's entertainment:



A good experience breaking out of the rut. Thanks for the input, everyone.

Cheers,
Peg