Showing posts with label Novels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Novels. Show all posts
Saturday, December 01, 2012
Prayers for More Books, and the Time to Read Them.
"When I write poetry, I think of it as praying on paper," a Roman Catholic priest once told me. The past few days/daze I've been nearly giddy with delight, because of my return to blogging. I'd truly forgotten how incredible the connection feels: the lone act of typing, the stillness as I re-read (I make NO changes to my Blog posts, they exist as an outpouring, Un-edited, of thoughts-in-my-head)before hitting "Post", the excitement when someone--known or unknown to me--posts a comment. I cannot fathom how other people DON'T WANT to write.
More puzzling to me, are those who say "I don't like to read" or "I don't enjoy reading; I'd rather be outside." If you don't like to read, then you either have a learning disability, a vision problem, or a very low IQ---I know I'm going to regret saying words that will be, ultimately, judged as very harsh--but that's how I feel, that's what I believe. And saying you don't enjoy reading, because you'd rather be outside? There's a simple solution: take the book/magazine/iPad/Kindle/Nook/e-book with you!
If it were not for books--for stories from the Roman Catholic Saints I read as a young girl (St. Theresa of Liseux (known as "The Little Flower") is the Saint I selected, at about age 10, as my "Confirmation Saint"), to "Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl", which became my favorite book--and one I've read 25 times at last count, I think I could not have grown to love the literature which later shaped the work I chose to study in college: literature, plays, theatre, and, ultimately--acting.It shaped my very LIFE.
What's the biggest fear I have, besides obvious fears like losing my parents, sis,nieces,aunts, and hubby and other loved ones, to death? I fear not getting to finish reading all the books I want to read.
On my I-Have-The-Book-Now-I-Want-The-Time-To-Read-It-List, right now:
*"Unsaid", a novel
"Whose Song? and other stories", a collection from Thomas Glave (I purchased a copy from him, personally at Indiana University Writer's Conference(I was there as a participant in the Poetry Track), in 2004--I've read a few of his tender stories, and keep returning to them, as one would, to a hot meal, for nourishment)
*"Dark Places", by Gillian Flynn
"His Lovely Wife", by Elizabeth Dewberry
"A Small Hotel", by Robert Olen Butler
*"A Brief History of Time", nonfiction, by Stephen Hawking (I read it twice in the past, but it was over twenty years ago, sigh)
*"Object of Beauty", a novel by Steve Martin (one of my fav contemporary writers--his essays in The Atlantic are illuminating)
*"The N-Word" , a book on culture and language
Books I want, but don't yet possess:
*Two novels, including "Elza's Kitchen", from the brilliant writer, Marc Fitten
*Four new books of poetry from four local poets who I admire
*Countless "classics" that I missed, or never (yet!) got around to reading...
What are some books that are your favorites? Which books do you still yearn to read?
Peace, kids.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
COLLIN KELLEY AS ALCHEMIST.
COLLIN KELLEY AS ALCHEMIST.
Many "contemporary novels" are labeled "magical realism" when they are infused with the surreal. Isabel Allende is a master at this. And in "Conquering Venus", Collin Kelley provides us with a novel Ms. Allende herself would enjoy.
As if tapping into some primeval drive, Collin Kelley unearths desire of various types--repressed, taboo, and unrecognized, in nearly every word.
In "Conquering Venus", Kelley's debut novel, protaganist Martin Paige is a man haunted by a death, and a secret.
During a trip from Memphis to London to Paris in which he embarks(ostensibly) to assist his best friend, Diane, Martin disovers that his ability to fall-in-love may be damaged, but not gone. With the deft care of an older, mysterious Frenchwoman, and the intuition his dreams (and hers) provide, Martin is coaxed, pushed, and finally, metaphorically-speaking, held hostage by his own conscience.
Many women readers will connect with Martin's losses and his seeming inability to get past old hurts. Many men will connect with Martin as well.
And both genders will pine for the ever-elusive Frenchwoman, the voyeur (she watches other people, in their hotel rooms) who passes time, from a prison of her own making.
The eventual object of Martin's affection is quite compelling, too: he is one taboo component of this "triangular" love story. And when I say "triangular", it's not what you think. There are three separate "triangles" in this dark, edge-y and oddly spiritual love story; that's because each of them intersect each other's lives in wondrous ways.
The characters here are so well-drawn, you may well forget you're reading a novel, and begin to refer to what you read, as a film you saw.
The novel will ask you many questions, but Kelley does not not hand us easy answers. He lets the characters speak for themselves, and by the end of the novel, he's performed an alchemy of sorts--and we are left with something familiar, something comforting, a sweet scent, like a French perfume. Ethereal, and lovely.
Peace, kids.
Many "contemporary novels" are labeled "magical realism" when they are infused with the surreal. Isabel Allende is a master at this. And in "Conquering Venus", Collin Kelley provides us with a novel Ms. Allende herself would enjoy.
As if tapping into some primeval drive, Collin Kelley unearths desire of various types--repressed, taboo, and unrecognized, in nearly every word.
In "Conquering Venus", Kelley's debut novel, protaganist Martin Paige is a man haunted by a death, and a secret.
During a trip from Memphis to London to Paris in which he embarks(ostensibly) to assist his best friend, Diane, Martin disovers that his ability to fall-in-love may be damaged, but not gone. With the deft care of an older, mysterious Frenchwoman, and the intuition his dreams (and hers) provide, Martin is coaxed, pushed, and finally, metaphorically-speaking, held hostage by his own conscience.
Many women readers will connect with Martin's losses and his seeming inability to get past old hurts. Many men will connect with Martin as well.
And both genders will pine for the ever-elusive Frenchwoman, the voyeur (she watches other people, in their hotel rooms) who passes time, from a prison of her own making.
The eventual object of Martin's affection is quite compelling, too: he is one taboo component of this "triangular" love story. And when I say "triangular", it's not what you think. There are three separate "triangles" in this dark, edge-y and oddly spiritual love story; that's because each of them intersect each other's lives in wondrous ways.
The characters here are so well-drawn, you may well forget you're reading a novel, and begin to refer to what you read, as a film you saw.
The novel will ask you many questions, but Kelley does not not hand us easy answers. He lets the characters speak for themselves, and by the end of the novel, he's performed an alchemy of sorts--and we are left with something familiar, something comforting, a sweet scent, like a French perfume. Ethereal, and lovely.
Peace, kids.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
COLLIN KELLEY AS ALCHEMIST.
COLLIN KELLEY AS ALCHEMIST.
Many "contemporary novels" are labeled "magical realism" when they are infused with the surreal. Isabel Allende is a master at this. And in "Conquering Venus", Collin Kelley provides us with a novel Ms. Allende herself would enjoy.
As if tapping into some primeval drive, Collin Kelley unearths desire of various types--repressed, taboo, and unrecognized, in nearly every word.
In "Conquering Venus", Kelley's debut novel, protaganist Martin Paige is a man haunted by a death, and a secret.
During a trip from Memphis to London to Paris in which he embarks(ostensibly) to assist his best friend, Diane, Martin disovers that his ability to fall-in-love may be damaged, but not gone. With the deft care of an older, mysterious Frenchwoman, and the intuition his dreams (and hers) provide, Martin is coaxed, pushed, and finally, metaphorically-speaking, held hostage by his own conscience.
Many women readers will connect with Martin's losses and his seeming inability to get past old hurts. Many men will connect with Martin as well.
And both genders will pine for the ever-elusive Frenchwoman, the voyeur (she watches other people, in their hotel rooms) who passes time, from a prison of her own making.
The eventual object of Martin's affection is quite compelling, too: he is the taboo component of this "triangular" love story. And when I say "triangular", it's not what you think. There are three separate "triangles" in this dark, edge-y and oddly spiritual love story; that's because each of them intersect each other's lives in wondrous ways.
The characters here are so well-drawn, you may well forget you're reading a novel, and begin to refer to what you read, as a film you saw.
The novel will ask you many questions, but Kelley does not not hand us easy answers. He lets the characters speak for themselves, and by the end of the novel, he's performed an alchemy of sorts--and we are left with something familiar, something comforting, a sweet scent, like a French perfume. Ethereal, and lovely.
Peace, kids.
Many "contemporary novels" are labeled "magical realism" when they are infused with the surreal. Isabel Allende is a master at this. And in "Conquering Venus", Collin Kelley provides us with a novel Ms. Allende herself would enjoy.
As if tapping into some primeval drive, Collin Kelley unearths desire of various types--repressed, taboo, and unrecognized, in nearly every word.
In "Conquering Venus", Kelley's debut novel, protaganist Martin Paige is a man haunted by a death, and a secret.
During a trip from Memphis to London to Paris in which he embarks(ostensibly) to assist his best friend, Diane, Martin disovers that his ability to fall-in-love may be damaged, but not gone. With the deft care of an older, mysterious Frenchwoman, and the intuition his dreams (and hers) provide, Martin is coaxed, pushed, and finally, metaphorically-speaking, held hostage by his own conscience.
Many women readers will connect with Martin's losses and his seeming inability to get past old hurts. Many men will connect with Martin as well.
And both genders will pine for the ever-elusive Frenchwoman, the voyeur (she watches other people, in their hotel rooms) who passes time, from a prison of her own making.
The eventual object of Martin's affection is quite compelling, too: he is the taboo component of this "triangular" love story. And when I say "triangular", it's not what you think. There are three separate "triangles" in this dark, edge-y and oddly spiritual love story; that's because each of them intersect each other's lives in wondrous ways.
The characters here are so well-drawn, you may well forget you're reading a novel, and begin to refer to what you read, as a film you saw.
The novel will ask you many questions, but Kelley does not not hand us easy answers. He lets the characters speak for themselves, and by the end of the novel, he's performed an alchemy of sorts--and we are left with something familiar, something comforting, a sweet scent, like a French perfume. Ethereal, and lovely.
Peace, kids.
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