Final PRABE Entry

Reading comes very naturally to me. Blogging is a very comfortable activity for me. But blogging about what I'm reading is harder.

Over the past 11 weeks, I have read just like I normally do: every single night, as soon as I lay down, I open up my Kindle. I usually read for about 30-45 minutes before I fall asleep. Some nights, if I'm more awake, I may end up reading for two hours. Some nights, especially since my 6th week of pregnancy, I can't even make it 15 minutes. That is how I read, and it's how I've read for as long as I can remember.

I haven't blogged in a while. I used to keep a blog, but that was when I lived overseas and wanted to communicate with my family. But it wasn't hard to get back into the swing of talking to an imaginary audience.

The hard part, for me, was digging a little deeper into what I was reading. I'm used to just absorbing books then moving on to the next one, like some kind of literary vampire. Blogging about my reading made me slow down a little bit and really reflect on how I felt about what was happening in the story. I think readers naturally make personal connections to what they're reading, but this blog forced me to articulate just what those connections were.

One thing I loved about this blog is how it gave me an outlet for things I was excited about (like catching the possible Doctor Who link in The Shining). It made me consider finding a book club here, because it was fun to share things that were surprising or exciting in whatever I was reading.

I read a whole book last night.

I couldn't help myself. It was entertaining; it was informative; it was hilarious. And I could identify with nearly everything the main character was going through (or will be able to, soon).

It was called "Expect This." Basically it was one woman's memoir of her first pregnancy. It was an open account of everything she went through. Her hormones, the letdown when she told people and they weren't as dramatically excited as she hoped, her labor, her fear that she might not be a good parent.

I loved it all.

We just found out we're finally pregnant (after a long time trying). I found myself relating so well to the writer when she talked about her first 6 weeks. And because of that, I tended to believe her more when she discussed the other 34 weeks she went through. It just made me more excited to get huge, labor, and meet this child my husband and I have created.

So excited that I missed my 9:00 bedtime - by about two hours.

Tonight, however, it's back to Gulliver's Travels. I've read it once, but I tend to inhale books on a first read, so second reads give me a little more detail. Already I'm giggling about the Liliputians and their treatment of Gulliver. And while I read, I like to keep one hand over my own tiny person inside me :)

Long Live the King

Apparently my frustration level is just too frustrating. And when that happens, I seek my comfort zone - Mr. Stephen King.

I have read his Dark Tower series twice (it's just that good). It is one of the best epic stories I've ever read (sorry, Tolkein) and I can't get enough of the world King created.

While not technically part of the series, Eyes of the Dragon could be said to be a pre-pre-prequel to the Dark Tower books, and features the same semi-immortal antagonist, Randall Flagg, who has been stirring the pot in several King books for years under various names.

I didn't expect to love this book as much as I do. I thought it would just be a fun way to revisit the world of Dark Tower. But there are several parallels to The Count of Monte Cristo (my absolute favorite book of all time - but only the Penguin Classics unabridged translation. All others fall short). From an innocent being wrongly imprisoned in a cold, dank tower, to his being helped by someone who shares his fate, to the success of those who imprisoned him (and the guilt eating away at one of them) and the slow, painstaking plans for escape, the comparison is unavoidable.

I am really looking forward to the eventual revenge plot when the innocent prisoner escapes. Nothing makes me happier than seeing justice delivered creatively to those who deserve it.

That sounded dark and cold.

I mean creative justice in books. And there are probably several things that make me happier. I just enjoy reading this kind of story.

Reading at my frustration level

Well, maybe not quite there. But close.

This ghost story collection is hard. It's old and Victorian and slow and verbose and UGH!

But I'm trying to take inspiration from everything I've been reading, and use this as an opportunity to challenge myself and become a better reader. It helps that the stories are bizarre and a little frightening.

This is probably a lesson that if I want to challenge students, I should make sure I'm doing so with topics they'll dig.

And in the meantime, I'll try working out words like "obdurate" and reading footnotes about 19th century French geography.

Dribbling during Drabble

Miss Margaret Drabble made my eyes leak last night.

This particular story, like many others, was about a woman who did everything she did because it's what she felt was expected of her. She felt she had to put on a particular face to the world, and though she didn't always feel strong and cheerful and kind, she acted that way anyways.

Even when she was dying. And no one else knew it.

Seriously. This woman had gone to the doctor because she had been bleeding ("and not as a result of her monthlies") for months. He diagnosed it direly, and she went immediately from her appointment to a public speaking engagement.

On the train on the way, she considered all she'd be leaving behind. How her children would feel abandoned. How people would say such kind things at her service. How her husband would move on. She began bargaining with God, then making excuses for Him when she decided he probably wouldn't save her.

It was all incredibly heartbreaking.

Then she arrived at her engagement and spoke in front of hundreds of girls about being a woman and following your dreams, bleeding profusely for the whole 20 minutes. And didn't tell a soul. She was simply grateful she was wearing a thick, dark wool skirt that wouldn't show.

Even now, retelling (at a very high level) the story, it makes me sad to the point of fighting back tears. Why anyone would ever want to suffer anything alone is beyond my understanding. I understand personal strength, but I also understand that sometimes that becomes a stubborn sort of pride.

Anyways, Drabble had my eyeballs dribbling. Double-time.

Dabbling in Drabble

So I haven't been alternating between books like I had planned. I have found myself far too sucked into Margaret Drabble's short stories to even begin James's ghost stories.

And it's sort of uncomfortable.

Drabble is an expert at illustrating how our expectations of others' perceptions of us can entirely control our behavior. We all want to be seen a certain way, and therefore often fail to act true to ourselves. She sets up very typical situations (a hiking trip, a honeymoon, etc) and lets her characters get so caught up in their own heads that they screw up their own circumstances.

It's very uncomfortable.

I get frustrated when people behave this way in real life. As a very basic and shallow example, when going anywhere in a group, I hate when I say, "Man, I'm hungry," and five other people say, "Oh, me too! I've been hungry for hours, I just didn't want to say anything!"  Why?! Why don't we want to say anything? I think, as people, we have a backward notion of what's polite and what's expected and how we should behave. And it suffocates us to the point where we don't act in our own best interests.

So reading about people doing just that is almost annoying. But it's also fascinating. Because it's giving me a glimpse into the motivations that people might have for doing (or NOT doing) these things. And also helping me to recognize when I start to exhibit those same behaviors.

But I think I know a few people I'll share this collection with when I'm done.  :)

On finishing Doctor Sleep

I realize I didn't post at all during Doctor Sleep. Probably because it was amazing.

I was able to get sucked into this story so much faster than The Shining. Maybe because I already knew the characters, and was invested? Maybe because of the modern setting? Or maybe it's simply a more engaging book.

Without giving anything away, this story is about Danny meeting a little girl who also shines, but with a much bigger shining than he has. And a group of "people" calling themselves the True Knot who have found the fountain of youth - they essentially feed on people who have the shining.

Danny's battle with alcoholism rang very true. I believe King has also fought that demon, and I've no doubt the AA storyline was based very much on his own experiences.

And of course, it all comes back to the Overlook Hotel. Such a scary place (but it also made me want to get back to Colorado very soon).

I'm a little worn out from reading so many lengthy novels in a row (sidenote: Prior to this blog I read Gone Girl, then both of Gillian Flynn's other two novels. She's incredible, from Kansas City, and really knows how to write some twisted stuff!). So I downloaded two short story collections to my Kindle: One a collection of horror stories from M.R. James, and the other a collection from Margaret Drabble. I've never read either of them, and I look forward to bouncing back and forth between them!