Books, books, books

{nothing like new books begging to be read}

A couple weeks ago Maddy, of the Maddy Chronicles, announced the winner of her giveaway: Amy of Magpie and Muttonfly.  I was dubious.  After all, the winner was chosen via random generator.  Who wins those things?  Certainly not I!  Still, out of curiosity, I clicked the link.  And what do you know?  It brought me here.  I clicked back; clicked again.  Same thing. 

It took me ten minutes to realize I had actually won.  You do not even want to know how long it took me to decide.  An Amazon gift card, people!  There are WAY too many options.  Like a pup on spring morn’ … just when I would focus on one thing … SQUIRREL!!!   

Finally, I settled upon books.  Shocking, I know.  They arrived in the mail yesterday … right as I was coming home from an errand.  I must have seemed a tad overzealous because the mailwoman looked a tad scared.  Could it be helped, my friends?  Me thinks not.  After all, it’s one thing to get books in the mail … it’s a whole other when they were free {to me}. 

And, I might add, they are bea-u-tiful.  Sigh.  I purchased books I had planned to read this summer: When You are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris, Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen by P.G. Wodehouse, and The Thornbirds by Colleen McCullough.  I know the first two will be good; the last, I haven’t a clue.  It could be total sap.  Luckily, it’s a lovely paperback.  It’s also orange, so there’s that …

So thank you {again} Maddy!  I plan to keep them forever–and I’ll think of you each time I see them upon the shelf.  

In other bookish news, people keep asking what I’m reading … so I created a page that will tell you just that.  Now if only I can figure out how to make it show up…

Finally, I was planning to give you a short review of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet … but I do believe I’ve rambled on quite enough for one sitting.  Another post, for another time, perhaps?  

Until then, happy reading, dear friends!

I succumbed

If you’ve read this blog for any amount of time you know I LOVE books.  I’ll give nearly anything a try; anything except perhaps, Christian romance.  That, my friends, is where I draw the proverbial line. 

I read a few back in the day, you see.  They were novels filled with characters who refused to speak naturally–everything was oh my darling … yes, my darling … goodbye, my darling.   There was no passion.  None.  Couples in these novels were about hot as dead fish.  A peck on the cheek was a risque as they got–they didn’t even kiss on the forehead because WHO KNOWS WHAT MIGHT TRANSPIRE … which, you know, is kinda true, but still.  And in moments where desire might possibly creep in, it was veiled with a prayer.  And I’m not talking, Oh sweet Jesus help me; I’m talking long, drawn-out prayers for our nation and beyond. 

Needless to say, you can imagine my horror when my mom and I were shopping at Borders a few weeks ago and she picked up this book …

Not only did she buy the book, she liked it.  She leant it to friends, and they liked it.  Then she turned on me…

Do you want to read it? *silence* I think you would like it.  *change of subject* 

I was valiant in my stance, dear readers, oh so valiant.  Then she brought out the big guns: 

Let me get this straight, you’ll read the whole Twilight series, but you refuse to even give this book a try? ……………………………  Yeah, I had nothing. 

Grudgingly, I took the book, vowing to stop reading the minute I spotted a misplaced prayer.  And what do you know?  I read it all the way through.  And I liked it.  I did.  As a matter of fact, it was perfect anecdote to stressful days. Alexander paints a vivd picture of life on the frontier. Her historical fiction, set in the Colorado Territory, is full of imperfect characters–ones you can’t help but like. 

And for the record, I absolutely loved the thing that finally stole Dr. Molly Whitcomb’s heart.  *sigh*  

That said, if you’re looking for good, clean fun–for a sweet romance–for a story you can trust will end on a high note, but still draws you in–consider Beyond this Moment {by Tamera Alexander}…

Hopeless romantic

It’s true, I am a hopeless romantic.  The key word being hopeless.   *le sigh*

This fact was only reinforced as I read My Life in France, by Julia Child.  Loved it.  I loved reading of Paris, marketplaces, and culinary delights (though it made me terribly hungry); I loved reading of clever Valentine’s Day cards, photography, and adventures (misses too).  And I loved reading of tables filled with good food, fine wines, and the company of friends.  

It’s the best of life, my friends …

Of course, I did chuckle a bit toward the end. She wrote of going to their summer home in France for the last time. The people who had made it come alive, were no more; so she traveled with her niece and her family, to hand over the keys and say goodbye. She wrote quite matter-of-factly. C’est la vie!  Therefore, she could not imagine what could possess her niece burst into tears one day. Alors!  I understood fully.

Personally, I like to think us romantics make the world a bit brighter … when we’re not crying, naturally.

Dickens, what a find!

I went antiquing.  Okay, I went to one antique shop; but it was large, so it was akin to several, without all the driving.  I went searching for presents.  I came away with a present for me.  It’s true.  But it couldn’t be helped.  Just look at these colors!  It’s Fall I tell you – FALL!

It’s also a People’s Edition of Dickens’ Old Curiosity Shop and Hard Times, published by Estes and Lauriat of Boston, 1882.  So there is that …

A girl named Jane

“Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones.”
- Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

October 6, 1847 a book titled “Jane Eyre” was first published in London.  Written under the pseudonym Curer Bell, this coming of age story was an immediate success.  It was such a success that the author was called to the publishing house to make herself known.  So it was that Charlotte Bronte was credited with her work.  A woman of all things!   Of course, this would never do for many critics.  Once they knew ”he” was definitely a she, the book could do no right.  All the same, Charlotte Bronte was greatly admired by many.  She created a powerful work of realism.  She managed to condemn some injustice, while seeming to embrace others.  In doing so, she proves we may hold prejudice unawares; and just because a prejudice holds us back, doesn’t mean it has to keep us down.