Category: Books

I woke up yesterday morning just after 6:30 to a brilliant blue sky and two sleeping preschoolers, and when I went downstairs I could barely even finish making up a pot of coffee before I cracked open the copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows that Beloved had picked up at 12:01 the night before. (I don’t think the Saturday paper has ever sat, unread and even un-leafed-though, for an entire day while I was home before. Usually, I read it cover-to-cover through the weekend.)

I’m almost half way though the book. I’m reading it more slowly than usual, trying hard to remember details I would ordinarily skim past. I’m finding the part where I am a little slow going, but the curiousity hook is deeply embedded, and I think I’ll be done by the end of today if not early tomorrow.

I’m in self-imposed media lockdown lest I stumble across a spoiler somewhere before I’m done. Beloved already risked death by telling me the chapter title of the last chapter, and I told him he was officially not allowed to speak of the book in any way or form until I’m done. We’ve got a book-sharing arrangement where the book is mine to read by daylight and he’s allowed to read it by lamplight. As long as my bookmark stays ahead of his, we’ll be fine.

Coffee’s finished brewing, time to get back to the book….

Filched from Angry Pregnant Lawyer and Mimilou:

What Harry Potter Character are You? Hermione Granger You are a smart and intelligent person. You use your smarts to help out friends. You can be emotional at times but you always seem to be in the mood to help someone out. Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests

Beloved has decided to get a jump start on me and pick up Deathly Hallows at midnight on Friday at our local book store. It will be waiting for me when I wake up on Saturday. Being woken up at 6 am on a weekend never sounded so appealing!

Today, I’m hosting a stop on MotherTalk’s blog book tour for Cathi Hanauer’s Sweet Ruin. (Disclosure: this means I get a free copy of the book and a small honourarium from MotherTalk.)

This was almost a 10-pages-in book review, because coming into the weekend I just wasn’t sure I’d be able to finish it in time for my date on the bloggy book tour today. I have to admit, I was biased against the book as soon as it arrived. With it’s girly pink cover and saucily bared shoulder, this book screamed chick lit to me and I’ve never been able to warm up to chick lit. More accurately, I haven’t actually read any chick-lit, ever. Couldn’t bring myself to peruse Sophie Kinsella, or pick up a Helen Fielding. The closest I’ve come is Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum, and I really don’t think you can call a book about a bounty hunter chick lit, can you?

Anyway, all that to say that I did in fact judge this book by its cover. Even when I started reading it, I found it hard to warm up to the protagonist. Elayna Leopold is a 35-year-old wealthy subarban mother to six-year-old Hazel, and as the book opens she is recovering from a two-year depression following the loss of her newborn son, Oliver. After his death, she finds she and her husband Paul are simply going through the motions of their former life, hollow and bereft. Strike two against this book. When I signed on to the MotherTalk book tour, I didn’t even know I was pregnant, and I almost stopped reading a few times last week just because I didn’t want to think about healthy pregnancies that end in neonatal death. Kind of interferes with my new no-worries attitude, ya know?

But, I kept reading. I’m glad I did. About half way through the book, something hooked me deeply and completely, and I tore through the rest of the pages with breathless curiousity. The story examines Elayna’s slow ascent from depression after the crushing loss of her son, and considers the eternal question of where the wife and mother ends and the woman begins. When she falls in lust for Kevin, the gorgeous 22-year-old artist across the street, she finds herself awakened and invigorated for the first time in years… and can I just take a moment here to say holy hell, does Hanauer ever know how to make a scene sizzle! Her descriptions of the magnetism of lust are evocative and breathtaking – literally.

Even though I never did warm up to Elayna’s complex character – and I admit that a lot of that is simply judgementalism on my part, as I could neither agree with nor understand many of the larger and smaller choices Elayna made – I do appreciate Hanauer’s impressive ability to flesh out a character. By far, the most interesting character in the book is Elayna’s six-year-old daughter Hazel, a red-haired bundle of fiery energy and attitude perched precariously between being mommy’s little girl and a preteen diva.

I found this book both compelling and hard to read. Hanauer is a good storyteller with a keen eye for detail and dialogue, and once the story starts moving it accelerates with the inevitability of a train wreck. You can see it coming, but you can’t look away. But that’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the ride – I just watched cringing, through splayed fingers, hoping that in the end at least the damage would be minimal. I found myself at times completely wrapped up in the story, my own guilt at hiding upstairs in stolen moments to read a few pages woven seamlessly into Elayna’s guilt at her more dangerous choices. Mommy-guilt has more facets than I ever realized!

In addition to the story itself, this book had a few interesting features that I particularly liked. There were a handful of book club questions at the end, and an interview with the author that you can read on the Simon & Schuster Web site – but if you want to read the book, I’d wait and read them afterwards. It was satisfying to finish the book and then read the additional material with the story fresh in my mind, and I’ve always been interested in process when it comes to writing.

In the end, Sweet Ruin stayed just far enough on the literary side of chick lit to win my approval. While it had its racy and titillating moments, the depth of the characters and the complexity of the relationships was enough to both engage and satisfy me. I’d recommend it as an ideal summer beach book.

What are you reading this summer?

It’s my turn to host another stop on a MotherTalk blog tour, this one for Lisa Garrigues’ book, Writing Motherhood: Tapping Into Your Creativity as a Writer and a Mother. (Disclosure: for writing this review, I get a free copy of the book and a small honourarium from MotherTalk.)

The irony is that I have been writing this review for 40 minutes, and I’m only on the second paragraph – not because my words are stuck or any writerly block or lack of inspiration, but because Simon decided he wanted to poop on the potty tonight – which is still an arduous task requiring a team effort – and then laptop seized up, and then dog yakked on the carpet. Writing and mothering are fitful partners. There’s no shortage of material, but often a serious shortage of available time.

Ahem, so where were we? Oh yes. Book review.

In Writing Motherhood, Lisa Garrigues offers tips and inspiration for mothers who want to write but don’t know where or how to begin. She’s an award-winning writer and educator, and each chapter of the book examines a different aspect of writing your “momoir” woven with vignettes from Garrigues’ life. Each chapter ends with a few writing prompts, which Garrigues calls “invitations,” and a select few “inspirations,” salient quotes from writers and mothers. The inspirations I liked, but the invitations less so. Like a few other bloggers who reviewed the book on an earlier leg of the tour for this book, I’m not really a fan of writing prompts. I did, however, tuck a few of them away for blog fodder on a dry day.

The central premise of the book is that you MUST get yourself a notebook of some sort and transform it into a “Mother’s Notebook.” She devotes more than a page of tips to how to select a notebook, and another page to 13 reasons why you should write longhand. And right there, she lost me. Luddite that I may be, I’m still all about the keyboard. I’m so ridiculously out of practice that it’s physically painful for me to write more than a paragraph, and I type at just the right speed to keep up with my lurching brain most days. Personally, I don’t find handwriting to have any intrinsic craft value. The idea of composing or even recording my first impressions without the easy capability to cut, paste and delete with a keystroke and a swipe of the mouse is nothing short of torturous. Writing longhand may be romantic and creative, but it’s also tedious and way too much work. I do carry a small notebook around with me, but even I have a hard time deciphering the half-formed thoughts and scrawled observations.

I found Writing Motherhood to be more spiritual than practical; there wasn’t any moment when I gasped with inspiration and leapt for my quill (or keyboard), but neither did I find myself flipping impatiently through the pages looking for something of relevance. While I enjoyed the anecdotal style, I think I was hoping for something with more discussion on the craft of writing itself, something like Stephen King’s On Writing – a book I found truly inspiring, and one Garrigues obviously also admired, as she refers to it often.

Writing Motherhood, therefore, is a good tool to help you find writerly inspiration from the act of mothering. It reads very much like the sort writing courses that Garrigues teaches, with each chapter examining a different aspect of where mothering and writing might intersect. The end of the book has a great section on resources, with a few books I’d like to pick up from the library for further inspiration. What I would like to see, however, is an expanded section on moving from private musings to published work, and a much larger section on using the Internet to share your work.

Aside from my disagreement with the central premise of the book, it did inspire me to think about myself as a writer. Garrigues loves the idea of a mother’s notebook, but I see the blog serving the very same purpose. I force myself to write every day on blog, and every now and then I try to shake things up with different formats and styles of writing. Like Garrigues’ mother’s notebook, the blog is a place where I record the minutiae that makes life as a mother both delightful and devastatingly difficult, and also a place where I can play with form, style, and voice. I am slowly giving myself permission to consider myself a writer, even though I’ve yet to get the elusive external validation of a byline in the mainstream media.

Oh, and while I didn’t completely forget that I offered up my slightly-used copy of The Big Payoff from my last MotherTalk review, I’m a little late. Congratulations to Myra! I’ll e-mail you for your snail-mail coordinates.

Today is my turn to host a stop on the MotherTalk blog book tour for Sharon Epperson’s The Big Payoff: 8 Steps Couples Can Take To Make The Most Of Their Money — And Live Richly Ever After. (Disclosure: I got a complimentary copy of the unedited proof and a small honourarium for participating in the book tour, and the link is built through my Amazon Associates account.)

I was interested in this book because my finances are a bit of a weak spot. We make a good chunk of change as a family, certainly more than I ever expected to make, and while we own our own home and half of a three-year old car (we’ll own the other half in another three years), we have what I consider to be a sickening amount of debt, mostly consumer debt and the tail-end of Beloved’s student loans. If we could get out from under the debt we’d be in great shape, but too much of our income goes to paying down the debt and we haven’t really got a savings plan – nor have we started socking away money for the boys’ bail college funds. I have the golden-handcuffs security of a freedom 55 government pension, but Beloved jokes that he’ll be working from beyond the grave. In short, we’re luckier than average in a lot of ways, but there are still lots of areas we need to work on.

Unfortunately, this book wasn’t a huge amount of help for our family situation for one key reason: we’re Canadian. This book has great information about 401(k)s and IRAs, 529 plans and Coverdell Accounts – none of which exist here. If you are American and looking for a great book with lots of specific details on the various types of accounts and tools you can use, I’d highly recommend this book.

The author, Sharon Epperson is a CNBC business correspondent and frequent contributor to a financial column in USA Weekend Magazine. She writes on what can be a complex and, let’s admit it, somewhat dry subject with an easy style. The book is well-organized and easy to follow, even for a Canadian like me – I now have a greater understanding of American financial tools and options, at the very least.

In addition to the specifics of the American system, there was a lot of good general information, too. I particularly liked the section where Epperson reiterates the “60% solution” conceptualized by MSN Money editor in chief Richard Jenkins. The theory is that you limit all essential spending to 60% of your gross income. This essential spending, called “committed income”, includes household expenses like rent/mortgage, home insurance, taxes, phone, utilities, basic food and clothing, basic transportation (including car payments, maintenance, gas, public transportation fees, etc.), insurance premiums, and fixed expenses like childcare. The remaining 40% of your income should be roughly divided into four groups: retirement savings, long-term savings and/or emergency fund; short-term savings, and fun money.

I have to admit, I haven’t had time in this topsy-turvy month to actually sit down and figure all this stuff out, but I know I’m going to have to do it soon. The other issue that Epperson raises that had me toe-ing the carpet in guilty embarrassment was the need to sit down with your partner and create a budget. I’m terrible for budgeting, and I’m worse for communicating about finances. Beloved and I each have control over our own money, and I take care of most of the household expenses. In fact, our only joint account is the mortgage. We really have very little idea how much the other makes or where the money is going. It works for us, but it’s not terribly practical. Epperson notes that “a budget helps facilitate communication.” I think this is the best take-away from this book for me. The budget isn’t a be-all end-all, but a tool to help foster financial openness. It’s on the to-do list, I swear it is!

I had a few other grumblings about this book. Although it purports to be designed for middle-class couples, Epperson’s version of middle-class seems to be a lot wealthier than my conception of the term. One of the main recommendations is that you should live on one income. Epperson recommends that if you are in a dual-income family, you try living on one income and putting the second income into savings or toward paying down debt. Ha! I’m sure we’re at the high end of the middle-class scale, and there’s no way we could do this any time in the foreseeable future.

Anyway, while this book didn’t quite live up to my expectations for it, it still had enough morsels and nuggets that it was worth my time to read it. I am inspired, at least, to start making a formal budget and – gasp! – talking to Beloved about our finances a little bit more. Well, we can start by talking about his finances. It’s better than nothing!

I’d be happy to donate my copy to one of my American friends. If you’d like a slightly-used unedited proof of The Big Payoff, leave a comment below and I’ll make another random draw next Monday.

Yesterday, Fawn noted that the Harper Collins contest to win a free copy of the Dangerous Book for Boys is only open to Americans. I sent a note to Andi at MotherTalk (editorial aside: Andi is the nicest. person. ever!) and she confirmed with the publisher that yes, the contest is only open to US residents. Sigh. It’s hard being a Canadian sometimes. We can’t vote for your American Idols, some of the coolest online stores don’t ship to us, and you don’t let us apply to be contestants on Survivor or the Amazing Race.

BUT! The publisher offered me a free copy of the book to share with one of you. That’s a nice compromise, don’t you think?

If you’d like to win your own copy of the Dangerous Book for Boys (see my review here if you missed it yesterday), leave a comment on this post. I’ll leave it open through next Tuesday, May 15.

It’s my great pleasure today to participate in the MotherTalk blog book tour for The Dangerous Book for Boys. (Disclosure: this means I get a review copy of the book and a $20 honourarium for playing along.)

Do you have any idea how to use your watch as a compass? Do you know the difference between a transitive and intransitive verb? Ever wanted to make a perfect paper airplane, or learn to juggle, or make a coin disappear? Ever been curious about the world around you and the things you are capable of doing? Then you must pick up, for yourself or the boy in your life, The Dangerous Book for Boys.

This was a fun book to review. I’m already a minutiae junkie, and I love to know stuff. Useful stuff, esoteric stuff. That’s the kind of stuff that’s in this book; stuff to impress chicks with, and impress your schoolmates, too. And what a gorgeous book it is. Simply on a tactile level, it’s a pleasure to hold, to admire the old-fashioned typesetting and carefully rendered illustrations.

It’s not exactly a manual on how to be a boy, but rather an encyclopedia to satisfy the curiousity of the boy within all of us. The chapters are short, and follow no discernable pattern – much like the notoriously short attentions span of its intended audience. Each short chapter covers a different topic, including rules for common games (chess, stickball, poker and marbles), history and grammar lessons, science and nature, Shakespeare and poetry, and a generous list of how-tos, including how to build a treehouse, how to write in code or secret ink, how to make a go-cart, how to hunt and cook a rabbit (!), how to grow sunflowers and five knots every boy should know. And that’s not even half of it!

The book is evocative of those mythic endless summer days of our childhoods, filled (in my case) by riding around the neighbourhood on my bike, stopping to catch minnows and cray fish in the creek and climb the trees in the ravine and then playing hide and go seek with the neighbourhood kids until well after dark; the kind of day we fear that our children will never get to experience in our hyper-scheduled, overprotective world. How to be Huck Finn in the 21st century.

It’s an oddly practical collection of arcane information that seeks to satisfy a range of boyish curiousities and pique the interest of just about anybody who takes a moment to peruse the lovely, old-fashioned pages. We could all use a little bit more of this kind of knowledge, don’t you think?

Curious? Check out the Dangerous Book for Boys website, or watch an interview with co-author Conn Iggulden on the Colbert Report. The publisher, Harper Collins, is even offering a chance to win one of 100 copies. (Edited to add: the Harper Collins contest is open to US residents only, but I have one copy to give away! Leave a comment on this post before Wednesday May 16 if you’d like me to enter your name in the draw!)

I like to joke about my barely repressed inner 14-year-old girl, but this book reminded me that I also have a barely repressed inner 12-year-old boy jockeying for position just below the surface of my psyche. My inner boy not only loved this book, but issued a challenge to the rest of my sorry self. There are two things I’ve always wanted to learn how to do: a cartwheel, and to juggle. Klutz that I am, it’s probably not a great idea at this stage in my life to start hurling myself head-first at the ground. But right there on page 89, there’s a fully illustrated set of instructions on how to juggle. It’s high time I learned.

What have you always wanted to learn how to do?