How much I hate my e-reader

I have been trucking along with my Nook (full disclosure as to what e-reader I use - but my hatred has nothing to do w/ brand) giving it a go each time I have a bit of time off from work or need to get on a plane for either work or pleasure. I was seduced years ago by very clever ads (Kindle? I honestly can't remember) that I passed each morning in Penn Station in NYC as I dashed toward the C train turnstiles.  The ad very cleverly said something along the lines of "Pack 10,000 books in your carry-on." For someone who is always afraid of running out of books to read, which is definitely impossible and this is known by anyone who has ever been to my house, this was a definite attraction. But I must admit that ever since I took the plunge and spent a couple hundred dollars on my e-reader, I find myself relegating books to the Nook that I think are less worthy than those being shelved. And it's not the bodice ripping-type of books that I'm squirreling away on the e-reader; it's anything that I don't think my husband would want to read. Because if he did, then we'd just get the "real" version and always have it around for either of us to read. And then give away to friends. And we're not sharing an e-reader - that's like sharing a computer. It doesn't work. So then I thought, okay this thing must be great for magazines that I don't want piling up on tables around my house. WRONG. The one wonderful thing about books on the Nook is that if I actually wanted to read something on my computer all I need to do is log into my B&N account and voila! it shows up. That wonderful recipe that you found in the latest edition of Shape? TOO BAD. You can't access it anywhere else other than the Nook, you can't print it, you can't save it to an electronic file - nope, nada, zip. Suddenly, my 3-ring binder w/ recipes taped to pages in it is looking better and better. And don't tell me to get an ipad! I have discovered that reading a book or magazine, for me anyway, is all about unplugging, being inaccessible, not being unduly stimulated by bright lights and changing fonts. Does anybody remember how they got into reading in the first place??? YES - with your parents! At night! Before bed! When what you were doing was spending time with each other and telling a story! AHHHHH. I feel myself relaxing already.

Where I was originally going to start this confessional had to do with how ridiculous it is to bring an e-reader to the beach. The place where I actually get more than a couple of minutes to read. So I spend somewhere between $80 - $200 on an e-reader and then you want me to drop it in the sand? And maybe get water and sunscreen on it? I think not! I think I could be backing out of my relationship with the e-reader. But only after I finish the latest Jack Reacher that is patiently waiting for me in electronic form........

The Lacuna

Okay, okay. I know it's been awhile. I promised a "review" of The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver, and now I will give it. The only reason why I put "review" in quotes is because I'm really not comfortable with this book review format. It is clearly an art. I don't know how to shake your arm to tell you all the reasons why to read a book (or not!) and make you read the book without giving the best parts away. Or any part away!, for that matter. All I know is that when I took a week off from real life to sit under a cabana at a resort in Puerto Rico, I read three books that just sucked me in. The third of those (see prior posts for the other two) was The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. First of all, if you know even a minimum of Spanish, you keep wanting to say La Lacuna. But whatever. The book is masterful. It takes places in the 1920s, 30s, 40s, and 50s in Mexico and the United States. A particularly free-wheeling mother takes her son from Washington, DC to Mexico to live in her lover's house, and the story takes off from there. The book is purely fiction, but it sets the protagonist in a scene where he can only become Diego Rivera's plaster mixer for his famous murals and then as a fixture as a cook in the house Rivera shares with Frida Kahlo. The narrative is uplifting and depressing all at the same time. The only thing I will say is that I learned more about the being blacklisted as a Communist during McCarthyism and the trauma it left in its wake than I ever wanted to know. This book isn't a beach read in the totally frivolous sense, but if you have some hours to spare you will be rewarded.

Vacation book #2

Now that I'm back in real life, I don't have any "book" by the side of my bed other than an old issue of the New Yorker. But I'm happy to say that all of my vacation books were so good and so different from each other that I'm still reliving them all.

The second book I read from cover to cover while lounging on my pool-side chair was Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson. The whole reason why I picked up this book had to do with an article about Petterson that appeared in another issue of the New Yorker within the last year. In the piece, the writer's various works were reviewed and/ or summarized and Out Stealing Horses rose the top of the list as the book to try. It did not disappoint. The writing is masterful - or maybe the translation was masterful, or both. Petterson is Norwegian and seems to fit within a certain somber genre. Without trying to give anything away, the protagonist is a 67-year old man who has finally become comfortable with being himself in a way that makes him fear being old but at the same time he also realizes that he could be living for many decades more. He reconciles a childhood loss, while at the same time moving forward and understanding who he is. It's intelligent, thoughtful, and all about coming home.

Bangkok Tattoo

One of the books I read over vacation is Bangkok Tattoo. See below for my non-spoiler review.

Bangkok Tattoo is the second in a series written by John Burdett. The first is Bangkok 8; both are worthy of your time - but only if you don't have an unusually squeamish stomach or really cannot tolerate the thought of the red-light district in Bangkok. Both books totally sucked me in - these are intelligent, suspenseful, sexy, and somewhat spiritual or mystical. I need to do a little more research about Buddhism to decide which.

Next post: Out Stealing Horses

Books on Vacation

Nick Hornby has a column in the magazine The Believer that basically sums up the books he is reading, the books he purchased and the books that he put by the side of his bed. He calls it "Stuff I've Been Reading." So, in that vein I give you - Lisa's Stuff.

I am hell bent on keeping our local bookstore (never mind that it's a big chain and not a true independent bookstore - it's the only thing I've got!) in business. In between trying to frequent the library and not be completely buried in books, my quest is to visit the BAM! (Books-A-Million) at least once a month. In anticipation of our week-long vacation to Puerto Rico, I bought Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson and The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. I also completely devoured Bangkok Tattoo by John Burdett. Bangkok Tattoo is the second in the series with Detective Sonchai Jitpleecheep. All I will say right now is that I loved all three of these books, and the only thing they had in common is that each was fiction......

Okay, it's been awhile

A close friend and colleague of mine is off at an "amazing" conference about being a 21st century educator and administrator. She keeps texting me to let me know how much she is learning, how much I would enjoy it, how awesome the conference is, etc. And quite frankly, I don't care. Right when the school year ended, I hit a wall. The "I don't care if I ever learn another thing" wall. Which is not entirely fair - I am still "learning." It's not all bon bons and soap operas. (Although, Spanish soap operas.......) I am reading lots of books in anticipation of the upcoming school year and also for personal enlightenment. (I am really enjoying the one I picked up on heirloom foods and I also loved Luka and the Fire of Life (8th grade required read).) I am also catching up on my New Yorker subscription, reading the local paper, and trying not to let my running magazines take over the living room. But I am feeling like I just need to be home. Or with friends. Or with family. Or working in my office. I just don't want to be in a hotel in Philly (or San Diego or Chicago or Wilmington) at a conference this summer. Partly, it's because the first year in an intensely new job has been, well, intense. The other thing is that the job search, move and first year pretty much became an 18-month experience. I need a break. I need to not learn something new right now. A little-bit new is okay. Big-time new or life-changing new has me running to the beach...... but not to a conference.

middle school humor

It takes one to know one. 


So we had rice and beans for dinner. (Very good, I might add. Homemade with carrots, cabbage, onions, and garlic added in.) Well, afterwards I let out a particularly good belch. (My brother John might have deemed it, "impressive.") So I proclaim, "Excuse me. Those beans were carbonated." And Bob says, "You mean, fart-onated." HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I've been crying ever since.