"Go Set a Watchman" Review

It's been sitting on the arm of my sofa for several weeks. My parents brought it to me the last time they came to visit. My dad read it, then my mom, and then they brought it to me, without its dust jacket, probably left at home so it doesn't get damaged in the travel. Dust jackets are to be enjoyed for their aesthetic value and then taken off as soon as possible, because reading books with the dust jackets on is impossibly difficult. I sewed the book into an ugly yellow hand-made cover to protect it from wear and tear instead.

My parents. It's hard to separate Harper Lee from my parents. It was one of the first grown-up movies I remember getting to watch -- one of the ones that really meant something. I think I was in third grade the first time I saw To Kill a Mockingbird. I fell in love with Scout, Jem, and Dill, and the tired old town that was Maycomb. There were tire swings and noble, tall men and things I didn't understand but deeply felt were worth fighting for. I used to want to be Scout so badly. I would pretend I was her and I wanted to be a tomboy so intensely I made my tomboy cousin at a family reunion in Oklahoma teach me how to spit because I thought it'd be something Scout'd do. When I was little, it was something my dad and I shared. We were both overjoyed with its stylized romanticism. It's one of those movies I'd watch over and over again and my dad and I would shoot lines at each other from this movie. "There goes the meanest man that ever took a breath of life." "My word, Mrs. DuBose, don't you look a picture"/"He don't say a picture of what." "Oh no, Mr. Tate, he can't shoot." "My lord, Aunt Stephanie, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

When I got older, we would talk about the moral and social implications of the book and the movie, philosophizing about its merits and themes. My mother would talk about how her cool aunt gave her the book when she was in middle school and how much she loved sharing a love of literature with her aunt. I myself read the book for the first time when I was in middle school, and have read it several times since then. Really, when I needed to feel comforted while I still lived at home, I would take my dad's hardback copy off the shelf and flip through it until I found a homey scene with Scout and Jem and some trouble. They were all old friends, and even though they suffered and I suffered with them, it turned out just enough alright in the end. Not perfectly, but enough.

The news that Harper Lee wrote another book and was intending to publish it hit me hard. I had very much believed that she should only write one book, and it seemed like she believed it too. To Kill A Mockingbird was a literary masterpiece that has been taught in every high school in America. If I were an author like that, I'd probably never write again, or I would have begun writing again very, very soon afterward, sort of like J. K. Rowling. She began writing new things almost directly after she finished Harry Potter, and although she will always hold the distinguished authorial position in my heart of being Harry's creator, she is no longer superhuman in my mind. I have read everything else she has written, and I still enjoy her but she is no longer infallible. She has stepped down off the pedestal into the world of real people. Harper Lee has now done that, but because she chose to do it decades after her entry into the world of hallowed authorship, it feels like a fall from grace. This book is about smashing idols and has also caused idols to be smashed.

I didn't even really want to read it at first. I had heard so much about it, and it didn't seem like the kind of book that would positively add to my warm and fuzzy recollections of the first book. In fact, it sounded like it would downright degrade them. But I like to try and give things a fair shake, so when my dad bought the book I decided upon borrowing it from him when he was done. Which, for my dad, he did in record time. This is the man who typically gets through one whole novel a year, and he literally blasted through it in about a week. Now, I had a day off from work and no more excuses.

The kindest thing but also the worst thing and the most mundane thing I could say is I'm disappointed.

I'm not even so much disappointed about Atticus, though that's mixed up in there. I'm disappointed that Jem was killed off and absent, with only a few sentences of explanation. I'm disappointed that Dill is gone to Europe (and had to find out about Jem's death through a newspaper clipping! The horror!). I'm disappointed that grown-up Jean Louise Finch is so young, so fiery, so unwilling to listen and understand. I'm disappointed that Atticus has this seemingly new attitude of paternal superiority. It does cast the events of To Kill A Mockingbird in a tainted new light, that he was defending Tom Robinson because of his belief in carrying out the law, not that he did it because he felt that the system was unfairly rigged against a black man and he should do whatever he could to help.

But more than that, I'm disappointed in the way the novel was actually carried out. It felt confused and incomplete. There were issues of consistency between this book and Mockingbird, particularly with the story of the trial of Tom Robinson. Hell, she couldn't even keep pronouns straight sometimes. Every time they would get to the moral meat of the book, the heart of the problem, the center of the controversy, the characters were constantly interrupting each other and talking over one another and misunderstand each other. But unlike Mockingbird, where everything was lovingly laid out and tied neatly together, where the narrator made her point about the mockingbird without belaboring it and it was clearly understood, despite the subtlety and subtext, in this book nothing seemed clear. It seemed like the author thought everything was obvious when nothing was. I'm still not entirely sure what Atticus's position is, or why it's okay, or even really how it impacts the actions of the first book. I kind of get it. I have people I love who very firmly believe in things I see as wrong. It made them human instead of idols to be worshipped, but that was a painful process. And I can gain a lot more by being open-minded and kind instead of yelling.

Mockingbird took the intimate, the familiar, the understandable and projected it onto the difficulties of the world. The world is an ugly place, but you can stand firm in your convictions and attempt to evince as much positive change as possible. Watchman does the opposite. It belittles the larger view, the worldly perspective, the big picture in favor of "just getting along". According to Watchman, lots of people are just going to think of black people as backward and in need of protection because they are childlike and unevolved, and what you can do about it is sit quietly and wait until they realize the wrongness of those notions of their own accord. What if they don't? You sitting there never saying anything so you don't disturb the peace isn't going to affect any change.

But this point is not a good one to make right now. Mockingbird was welcome during the Civil Rights Movement because it made the point that anyone could stand up for the right thing. And simply acts could be moving and poignant and profound. This book makes the point that we should just sit back and ignore the things our neighbors and family members say because that's the way the world is and they won't listen anyway. It won't help. But sitting back right now will only make things worse, I think. The atmosphere is violent right now. Our times are coming to a head, and right now things are kind of ugly. But if good people sit back and don't stand up for what they believe in, bad things will happen and things will just continue as they have been, which obviously hasn't been working. I firmly believe now is the time to stand up for what you believe in. This is a time when you will lose friends. This is a time when you may lose standing in your community for what you believe in. But the consequences are not nearly so severe for the majority of us today and the rewards could be great. We don't, most of us, live in the itty-bitty rigid Maycomb, where if you don't toe the line you will be crushed under the town's collective heel. It's possible to stand up for what you believe in and also not be an ass. It's possible to stand up for your beliefs while not pulling others down simultaneously. Watchman makes it seem like the two are mutually exclusive. It makes it seem like in order to keep the peace you have to relinquish your beliefs.

Instead, I think you should be quietly peaceful in accordance with your own convictions. Be like the tree, which will bend with the wind but not be uprooted. And slowly, quietly, other trees may grow nearby.

I will keep Mockingbird in my heart, alone and unaffected, and I will keep Watchman at arm's length. But I am glad to have read it.

Paper Towns: Another Disappointing Cinematic Adaptation?

So I have a giant nerd crush on John Green.

He's amazing.

He writes teen books that I actually enjoy AND are popular with the general public (can't say the same for Twilight, Beautiful Creatures, Divergent, etc).  His male protagonists are so. . .normal.  They aren't the prancing, sparkling Edwards and Jacobs, but weird, awkward, flawed, delightful adolescent humans.  And let's not forget his wonderful online presence with Mental Floss and Crash Course, which I have used more times than is probably acceptable in my classroom.  But, fortunately, most of my female students also have giant nerd crushes on John Green, so it works out in my favor.

As far as his books go, it's been hit or miss.  I really didn't care for Looking for Alaska or An Abundance of Katherines.  The Fault in Our Stars was good, but I did feel a bit like a cheap violin.  No, my favorite was, by far, Paper Towns.  I love Q and his goofy obsession with his enigmatic neighbor, how he chases and chases and ultimately comes to the self-realization that he is Don Quixote and he stops tilting at windmills.  It is a coming-of-age novel that I can genuinely relate to, and one that I think is well done.  It's interesting enough to be engaging, not so far-fetched that it's not something that could have happened to some of my acquaintances in high school (certainly weirder things did happen to them).  I loved it.

And now they're making a movie of it.  My first question: why not make Looking for Alaska into the next John Green adaptation?  It's certainly more dramatic and packs more of that emotional punch.  So, here is the trailer:

Paper Towns Official Trailer


And here's a very telling promotional photo.  (Also, where's Radar's gf?  And why isn't it easy to see that he's black?  And that she's black?  But that's another question for another post.)

I think this picture very accurately sums up what is wrong with this movie.  Instead of it being about Quentin's self-discovery through the vehicle of Margo, it's about Margo herself.  She's the one who gets the biggest space in the picture; she's the one who Q talks about throughout the whole trailer; she's the reason for his existence, the key to his puzzle.

And that's just the antithesis of the book, so I'm really wondering how John Green can, in fact, approve of this movie.  I have heard JG quoted as saying something along the lines of, "no no, wait until you see the whole movie before you judge," but this get me wondering on several levels.

Firstly, I don't believe you.  That ain't gonna happen, for the basic reason that it would wound the egos of about a million teenaged, ticket-paying girls who really, really want to be Margo Roth Speigelman.  Because really, who doesn't want to be mooned over?  None of us wants to be stalked or worse, but most girls secretly want someone to be in love with them from afar, mooning over them in the delicious and antique ritual of unrequited love so paramount to the teenage romance novel.  Most girls also want to be: rebellious, dangerous, mysterious, and drop-dead gorgeous.  Margo fills the same purpose that Katniss and Bella and Tris and every other heroine does: we would rather be more like them than the girl with cellulite, frizzy hair, and trigonometry homework.  She is our vessel and we would gladly pay (perhaps multiple times and over the course of several tumblrs) to pretend to be for an hour or two.  So they won't pull away from her in this movie because it would alienate the young lady audience.

Secondly, is this how we have to get people to see this movie?  By painting it as this exotic and mysterious and exciting love story where this girl is (YET AGAIN) romanticized, the main character fantasizing about her and superimposing what he thinks she is onto what she really is, never really seeing her for the person she is?  And thus, we are also saying her (and his) behavior is permissible.  It's okay to lose all interest in school and friends and normal people activities to wander around town looking for CLUES that someone probably didn't leave you anyway about their underage AWOL activities, when really you should stop making shit up and also give more information to the police.  Because what if she hadn't been leaving a trail of clever breadcrumbs to her hiding place, what if she had been brutally taken as a hostage by a pimp or a gang leader, like so many young girls who get sold into sex slavery?  

But more than that, here was a story that was about all the right things: self-realization, growing up, letting go of fantasies and seeing people for who they really are, and all that is gone in this trailer.  Instead, what is left is almost as bad a Twilight or Divergent, in the mixed-up messages about how girls and boys, men and women, should treat each other.  Instead of treating Margo Roth Speigelman like a person, she gets relegated once more to the role of simple fantasy.  And she's not there to speak up for the person she really is, so no problem, right?  Let's just let Quentin off the hook - it's just harmless fantasizing, right?  No.  And not just in the book (a super-long road trip of eighteen year olds holds many dangers).  In society.  It's okay to fantasize about people and not recognize their personhood.  It's okay to make them who you want them to be.  It's okay to silence or ignore their voice on their own state of humanness.  It's okay.  And it's only a short hop from there to: it's okay that he's following her.  It's okay that he's forcing himself on her.  It's okay that he won't take no for an answer.

No means no, even when you're telling the person that you aren't who they want you to be.

Grapefruit Galore!

Recently, I got a haul of grapefruit.  Eight shopping bags, to be exact.  Off of my aunt's tree down in Phoenix.  The smallest one is as big as the biggest grocery store one, and so much sweeter and more delicious!

Fortunately or unfortunately (I'm gonna go with fortunately), my tummy doesn't do super well with plain, straight grapefruit.  I love its tart and zesty flavor but boy! does the acid really roil in my belly.  So what did I do instead? Make grapefruit-infused things.  However, I am looking for more recipes!  So far, I have made:

• a grapefruit yogurt loaf
• grapefruit slice-and-bake cookies
• grapefruit poppyseed muffins

They have all turned out magnificently.  The grapefruit is a light, cirtus-y flavor that brightens up an otherwise heavy pastry.  Add some yogurt or some poppyseed and you have something light, bright, sweet, and scrumptious!

Give me more recipes!  I still have at least one bag and I'm hoping to get more this weekend!

Here are my recipes, from www.smittenkitchen.com and adapted for grapefruit goodness:

Grapefruit Yogurt Loaf

1 1/2 cups (190 grams) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup (230 grams) plain whole-milk yogurt
1 cup (200 grams) plus 1 tablespoon (13 grams) sugar
3 extra-large eggs
1 tablespoon grated grapefruit zest (approximately one large grapefruit)
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable oil
1/3 cup (80 ml) freshly squeezed grapefruit juice

For the glaze:
1 cup (120 grams) confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons (30 ml) freshly squeezed grapefruit juice

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease an 8 1/2 by 4 1/4 by 2 1/2-inch loaf pan. Line the bottom with parchment paper. Grease and flour the pan.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt into 1 bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, grapefruit zest, and vanilla. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. With a rubber spatula, fold the vegetable oil into the batter, making sure it’s all incorporated. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup grapefruit juice and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Carefully place on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the grapefruit-sugar mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in. Cool.

For the glaze, combine the confectioners’ sugar and grapefruit juice and pour over the cake.

Slice-and-Bake Grapefruit Cookies

Makes about 50 cookies (no, I'm not kidding)

2 sticks (8 ounces; 230 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature
2/3 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted
2 large egg yolks, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoons vanilla or almond extract
2 cups (280 grams) all-purpose flour

Options:

Mix in grated zest of 2 oranges and 1/2 cup dried cranberries (I finely chopped them)

Mix in grated zest of 2 lemons; coat with or mix in 1/4 cup poppy seeds (I mixed the poppy seeds in)

Mix in grated zest of 2 limes; coat with 1/4 cup cornmeal

Mix in 1/2 cup chopped dried apricots; coat with or mix in 1/2 cup finely chopped pistachios

Mix in 1/2 cup mini chocolate or peanut-butter chips

Mix in 1/4 cup finely chopped candied ginger; coat with or mix in 1/4 cup sesame seeds

Swap 1/4 cup of flour for unsweetened cocoa

Swap 1/2 to 1 cup of flour for ground almonds, pecans, hazelnuts or walnuts

Mix in grated zest of one big grapefruit; coat with sugar

1. Put the butter in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat at medium speed until it is smooth. Add the sifted confectioners’ sugar and beat again until the mixture is smooth and silky. Beat in the egg yolks, followed by the salt and any dried fruits, zest, nuts or seeds. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the flour, beating just until it disappears. It is better to underbeat than overbeat at this point; if the flour isn’t fully incorporated, that’s okay just blend in whatever remaining flour needs blending with a rubber spatula. Turn the dough out onto a counter, gather it into a ball, and divide it in half. Wrap each piece of dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for about 30 minutes.

2. Working on a smooth surface, form each piece of dough into a log that is about 1 to 1 1/4 inches (2.5 to 3.2 cm) thick. (Get the thickness right, and the length you end up with will be fine.) Wrap the logs in plastic and chill for 2 hours. (The dough can be wrapped airtight and kept refrigerated for up to 3 days or stored in the freezer for up to 1 month.)

3. Position the racks to divide the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

4. While the oven is preheating, roll cookie logs in any coatings of your choice. Then, using a sharp slender knife, slice each log into cookies about 1/3 inch (10 mm) thick. (You can make the cookies thicker if you’d like; just bake them longer.) Place the cookies on the lined baking sheets, leaving about 1/2 inch (1.5 cm) space between them.

5. Bake the cookies for 12 to 14 minutes, or until they are set but not browned.  In Flagstaff, this time is about half of that. Transfer the cookies to cooling racks to cool to room temperature.

Grapefruit Poppyseed Muffins

Makes 9 to 10 standard muffins

5 tablespoons (2 1/2 ounces or 71 grams) unsalted butter , softened
1/2 cup (3 1/2 ounces or 100 grams) sugar
1 large egg
3/4 cup sour cream or plain yogurt
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 1/2 cups (6 3/4 ounces or 191 grams) all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoon (7 grams or 1/4 ounce) baking powder
1/4 teaspoon (1 gram) baking soda
1/4 teaspoon (2 grams) salt
2 tablespoons poppyseeds

Zest from 1 grapefruit (two if they're babies)

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a muffin tin with 10 paper liners or spray each cup with a nonstick spray. Beat butter and sugar with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add egg and beat well, then yogurt and zest. Put flour, baking powder, baking soda, poppy seeds, and salt into a sifter and sift half of dry ingredients over batter. Mix until combined. Sift remaining dry ingredients into batter and mix just until the flour disappears. The dough will be quite thick (and even thicker, if you used a full-fat Greek-style yogurt), closer to a cookie dough, which is why an ice cream scoop is a great tool to fill your muffin cups. You’re looking for them to be about 3/4 full, nothing more, so you might only need 9 instead of 10 cups. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes (approx. 15 in Flagstaff) until tops are golden and a tester inserted into the center of muffins comes out clean. Let cool on rack, or you know, serve with a generous pat of butter.

In Defense of Food: A Review

As I write, it is Snow Day 2 of this suddenly incomprehensibly long weekend in March.  Snow Day 1 was great and exactly what I needed; Snow Day 2 has me hoping it's the last one this week because too much down time and I get serious cabin fever.

How am I allaying that cabin fever?  Reading.  I read a lot in December -- at least 10 books, which for me is pretty serious.  I like to read but I am not very quick.  I am a diligent yet thorough reader, rarely capable of speeding up my pace of reading.  Even when I try to speed read, I have to keep reminding myself to do so because I will inevitably slow down to the enjoyable pace I naturally fall at.  Anyways, I got busy in January and February and didn't really feel much like reading.  That happens.  When it does, I usually just let it happen because I know I'll be back to it before you know it.  Plus, they had just put out Friends on Netflix and I'd never seen a full episode, so clearly I had to binge-watch all ten seasons.  Clearly.  Also in February my good friend and I wrapped up our Drama Club's yearly musical, so February was mostly dedicated to rehearsals, frantic sewing, and herding small children into orphan costumes (we put on Annie!).

Finally, finally, with the advent of these snow days, I am finally able to relax a bit and get back to reading.  I finished two books yesterday (Girl Named Disaster and The Good Lord Bird) and today I am tackling a third, hoping to finish it today, mostly because it's so engrossing.

That book is:  In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto by Michael Pollan, author also of The Omnivore's Dilemma and The Botany of Desire.  I have been wanting to read his books for years, and when I recently went to Bookman's to sell back some books (paperback thrillers, yo), I decided to splurge and buy the first two.  And here I am, reading Defense, and even though I'm currently typing about it and it's sitting next to me, the only reason I'm doing that is because I'm so enthralled with it and its ideas that I'm having trouble sitting still.  So I'm going to start a list of all the things that are interesting me/bothering me/scaring me about this book, as well as things I'm learning.

1. Margarine is solidified vegetable oil.  That's disgusting.
2. The food industry is really trying to kill us.
3. Fat isn't bad.  I knew this, but still.  It really depends on what kind of fat you eat.
4. When asked to come up with a word in response to "chocolate cake," Americans say "guilt".  The French say "celebration".  Stupid Frogs.
5. In the 1970s, they changed the language of the new United States nutritional goals from "eat less meat" to "eat meats that will significant reduce the intake of saturated fats".  And it turns out sat fats aren't the ones we should be concerned about -- trans fats are.  And they have been touting the reverse for at least two decades.  Lordy.
6. Scientists like to isolate nutrients, but in actual fact it seems like nutrients work better as part of the whole than on their own.
7. Likewise, don't eat anything that specifically touts health on the label.  This should be a duh moment (like if you have to tell me you're good at sex you probably really, really aren't), but at the same time:
8. An astounding number of Americans think that it's better to eat a lot of a low-calorie food that's less nutritionally dense than a smaller amount of a high-calorie food that's more nutritionally dense.  Nooooooooo.
9. Fructose is not bad for you when it's found in fruit because the fiber in the fruit allows it to be absorbed more slowly into your body and therefore keeps you satisfied longer.  The fructose that is found in refined sugar contains no such fiber and therefore is nutritionally useless and makes you hungrier sooner. *insert sound of mind being blown. . .fiber is amazing*
10. White flour is flour that has literally had the nutrition "polished" out of it.  Yuck.
11. All the modern diseases that plague Americans (heart disease, obesity, cancer, and diabetes) can be traced to the modern Western diet of overly processed foods and the lack of truly nutritional food (e.g. vegetables).
12. And the order of those diseases goes obesity, diabetes, heart disease.  I.e., it's a waterfall effect.
13. If you eat a bagel smeared with peanut butter, the peanut butter makes it so that the carbohydrates in the bagel get absorbed slower.  
14. Organic foods might actually be better for you because industrially-grown foods typically come from soils that lack complexity, therefore creating less nutritionally-dense food.
15. But then again, not all organic foods are created equal.  
16. Rule of thumb: if possible, look the grower in the eye and shake their hand (i.e. go to a farmer's market or participate in a CSA).
17. This really makes me want to really grow my own vegetables.  Go away snow.
18. Humans have historically eaten up to 80,000 edible foods, 30,000 of which were in widespread consumption, but today the modern American gets 3/4s of his/her daily calories from four sources: corn, soy, rice, and wheat.
19. The famed omega-3 has a sibling: omega-6, which is good for us but not in the proportions we're eating.  We used to eat omega-6 to omega-3 in the ratio of 3 to 1 and now it's 10 to 1.  Omega-6 is good for fat storage, rigidity of cell walls, clotting, and the inflammation response.  Too much, we are learning, can play a role in heart disease, diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, and Alzheimer's.
20. Many Americans today are still facing nutritional deficiency diseases at the same time as being overweight or obese, because the food we consume is nutritionally empty.

Wow.  This was an excellent book.  I learned lots of things, got pretty scared by some other things, thought deeply about my own relationship with food (okay and getting better), and it ended with some beautiful and inspirational words about the communal nature of food.  I would highly recommend this book to anyone and everyone.

Food is about nutrition but it's also about the community.  It is one of the most fundamental aspects of human life, not only in a physiological sense but also in a cultural one.  Too long have food companies and the food industry plagued modern Americans with false advertising, fake foods, and unhealthy modifications, supporting dubious studies and dispersing questionable information.  Too long have we as people allowed them to do so in favor of cheapness, in favor of efficiency, in favor of avoiding things we don't like to do, such as clean up after ourselves or engage in meaningful conversation with one another.  Too long have we allowed this to happen.  Michael Pollan makes a convincing argument and then details a plan for how we, as consumers both in the biological sense as well as the commercial sense, can take our tables back, and in doing so take our health and our happiness back.  Read this -- take back your food.

Also, if you really want to see the true pervasiveness and insidiousness of the modern food industry, take a look at this commercial:

Corn Refiners Association

Existential Crisis Mode

Everything is really stressful right now.  Two grading period (little and big kids) are ending soon; we are doing midterms next week for the middle kids, field trips for the little kids, and normal school for the oldest kids; my big kids have a huge research paper due sometime next week.  I don't know when it's due anymore because I can no longer be physically present the day it's due.  Because of little kid field trips.  And while I like field trips, I'm tired, anxious, and stressed out.  And I don't even have to write or proctor an exam!

So this makes me think several things.

One.  A goat farm is sounding more and more appealing by the day.

Two.  Aside from goat farming, what else could I do in life?  I really don't know anymore.

Three.  Bake.  I shall bake.

This last week, I made lemon bars, more bread, four types of candy (orange-glazed pecans, chocolate covered orange peels, chocolate peanut clusters, and espresso toffee), a triple-layer vanilla buttermilk cake with raspberry preserves in between the layers, blueberry lemon scones, peanut butter, a key lime pie, and blueberry buttermilk pancakes.

I'm concerned my coping mechanism will kill me.  Or my coworkers.  See, if I partially owned and operated a goat farm, I could sell my pastries in our adorable farm cafe.  Obvi.  In the meantime, I'll just keep making things and looking for happiness.

Chocolate Gravy

Chocolate gravy.  Sounds gross, is delicious.  My family has made it every New Year's Day for breakfast since I can remember.  Those were some special memories.  We would all stay the night at my Aunt Jeanie's house.  We would play games like Taboo, Speed, Scatergories, everything and laugh so, so loud.  At midnight, we would run outside, trying to play my aunt's decorative horn, yelling and screaming, and banging pots and pans.  I would sleep on one of my aunt's pinkish couches and try and keep the dog from licking my face too much.  The next morning, we would make the biggest breakfast feast.  Not just the chocolate gravy, but bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits (on which to put the gravy), and fresh squeezed juice from my aunt and uncle's grapefruit and orange trees (I liked to mix the two -- still do, but only if it's fresh).  Then we would all sit around the table and have the most marvelous of times.

It's harder to get all together these days -- two of my cousins live different states, my husband and I live up in Flagstaff, and we're all so much older.  But I still make the chocolate gravy every New Year's Day, and I think about my family and how much I love them.

In case you, too, want to start a delicious tradition that is sure to damn all your New Year's resolutions,  here is the recipe:

1/2 cup cocoa powder
1/4 cup sugar
1/3 (cup?) cornstarch
1/4 tsp. salt
4 cups milk
3 tbsp butter
1 1/2 tsp vanilla

Mix the dry ingredients together on medium heat.  Stir in the milk, about one cup at a time, nice and slow.  Bring to a boil and boil for about one minute.  Remove from the heat and immediately add the butter and vanilla.  Serve quickly (it tends to congeal a bit).  BE CAREFUL:  It tends to form a film on the bottom, so constant stirring is a must.  Serve over biscuits and butter.  In conjunction with delicious aforementioned feast.

Culinary Adventures

It's no secret, I love food.  In fact, I love food so much it's probably the main reason I go to the gym as frequently as I do (that and I'm now addicted to running and Zumba and lifting weights).  I love all kinds of food, from Kraft mac'n'cheese to buttermilk-fried rabbit leg.  Luckily for me, my husband is a huge foodie, too.  Since we've gotten married, we've done a ton of experimenting, with everything from the glorious, unusual mixture of Mexican and Chinese food that is Chino Bandino to eating at an actual Gordon Ramsay restaurant to eating everything our little hometown has to offer, from food trucks to three-course meals.  Yum.  That buttermilk-fried rabbit leg was super delish.

When I was a kid, my mom was busy.  She worked and raised me (with my dad), and so she knew how to make tasty food quickly and easily.  We lived off of baked chickens and spaghetti meals and stir-fries and tacos.  It didn't really change often, but it was comforting and homey and, most importantly, quick.  I didn't really learn to cook to well, though.  Oh, I could make spaghetti and tacos and stir-fries, but it was kind of more of a yes-I-can-feed-myself-in-college-if-I-have-to kind of a thing rather than a I-genuinely-know-what-I'm-doing kind of a thing.

Enter my husband: a man who not only took three to four years' worth of culinary classes, but also had infinite amounts of useless information and actually liked to cook.  Enter my coworkers: Erin and Carrie, two ladies who were gastro-queens, making homemade pestos and running our little school's gastronomy club and making everything look effortless and beautiful.  It took a while, but eventually the examples laid before me began to inspire me.

And now I can't seem to stop.  But I'm okay with that.  Mostly, I've been experimenting with baking.  My husband is the real "cook" of the family, I think.  However, I have learned several excellent things from him that have made my cooking much better.  I shall share.

Thing #1: seasoning.  You think you're over-seasoning; you're not.  Lay it all on there!  Yes, you should basically cover that with spices.  And many of them.  One spice is boring.  Unless it's steak.

Thing #2: how to make a perfect stove-top steak.  Rub with a high smoke-point oil (grapeseed is good; we would use avocado but hubby is allergic to avocado and even though he wants to try it, I refuse because I don't actually want to drive the EpiPen into his leg, even though I've practiced long and hard just in case).  Blot off extra oil with paper towel.  Season (heavily) with salt and pepper.  Put into already hot pan at high temperature.  Sear on each major side if thin cut, each side if thicker until beef is cooked to the right temperature.

Thing #3: what the right temperature of meat is.  Steak is best medium-rare.  I'm not kidding.  When I was a kid, my parents were very concerned about red meat.  Steak at our house was well-done, and whenever I went out to eat that's how I ordered it.  I'm pretty sure the first time my husband ordered medium-rare at a restaurant I literally flipped out, threatening him with mad cow and a hideous, drawn-out prion death.  Then I tried it.  I had no idea steak could be so delicious.  Now, the idea of a well-done steak send shivers down my spine.  The trick if you don't have a meat thermometer: use your hand.  The fleshy part of your thumb, as is, is the same feel as rare.  When you put your thumb and forefinger together and touch it again, it's medium-rare.  Middle and thumb, medium.  Ring and thumb, medium-well, pinky and thumb, well-done.

Thing #4:  ingredients matter -- sometimes.  For example, bacon.  If you want extra good bacon, get extra good bacon.  But, like, sugar?  Skip the overpriced organic kind and just get regular sugar.

But what I've really been enjoying is the baking.  So far, this year, I've made the following, from scratch, for basically the first time:

1.) Cheesecake (bourbon pumpkin and peanut butter chocolate fudge [both pictured below])
2.) Cookies (thumbprint with jam [pic], oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, M&M, meringue, coconut macaroons, peanut butter, molasses [pic], gingerbread biscotti)
3.) Banana bread (stupid easy, stupid good.  Need more.)
4.) Pie (pecan, chocolate pudding, apple [pic] -- and three different kinds of crust!)
5.) Candy (coffee toffee, peanut brittle, homemade marshmallows)
6.) Cake (blueberry crumble [pic], lemon poppyseed, coffee cake, wedding cupcakes [pic], and some experimentation this weekend, I hope)

Basically all of these have been surprisingly easy and turned out great, which was a big first for me.  And I only started doing this in October, really.  I am so pleased by how easy so much of this was, and I am really starting to get excited for trying new things and pushing the boundaries of my culinary abilities.  (I have also purchased a lot more new equipment, including a new pie tin, a springform pan [favorite!!!], a hand zester/grater, an electric hand mixer, and my new early Christmas present -- a baby food processor that I am completely in love with.)  The best part is that homemade, I think, is always better than store-bought, and I am discovering how easy it is to make meals and snack and everything that is homemade, delicious, and easy.

This weekend, I'm baking for my husband's coworkers, because now I'm on Winter Break and can't slough off my extra baked goods onto my fellow teachers and my upper schoolers.  This weekend I'm making a plain French chocolate cake (http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2014/06/valeries-french-chocolate-cake/), orangettes (http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2006/11/candy-girl/), hot cocoa mix (with my new food processor!!!) and dreamy creamy scones (http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2006/11/dream-a-little-dream-of-scone/).

Let the adventuring continue!

Review: A Game of Thrones

A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin, wasn't really what I expected it to be.  I could say it was probably better, but that sounds terribly sappy and most books are better than their cinematic counterparts, so it wouldn't necessarily be for the right reasons.  I knew I would get lots of characters and a gritty outlook on life, but I didn't grasp the full extent of that grittiness or how attached I would get to the most unlikely of characters.  A Game of Thrones has whetted my appetite for more, but as I begin my wade through A Clash of Kings, my poor heart starts to ache for all the troubles I know are coming for my favorite characters.

To be perfectly honest, I have never seen so many characters handled so deftly in narration.  True, I don't read a wide variety of narration.  Now that I think of it, most of the fiction I read is seeming duller by the moment and pretty predictable.  Third person omniscient acting like limited, or first person narration with the same predictable arcs. . . .  Martin's biggest strength is his ability to convincingly voice this veritable host of players, while keeping a continuity of story, tone, and mood.  Neither am I finding that I don't really like any of the narrating characters.  Sure, Danaerys was kind of pitifully naive in this book and Jon Snow was much whinier than I had imagined he would be (he is an unloved teen -- what did I expect?), but their chapters and points of view aren't burdensome or unpleasant.  This style allows you to get inside all of these characters and really start to connect with them, again, without it being overwhelming or their voices all blending together.

What I did most enjoy, however, was Martin's unflinching and untroubled stance when it came to so many of the things that are controversial in the show: nudity, violence, more nudity. . . .  I was expected something salacious a la Fifty Shades of Gray, because that's how it's portrayed in the show.  I only saw more cunning linguists in Orange is the New Black, but I suspect that one's really more for shock value (ooh, look how strange and tough jail is).  Having said that, shock value and salaciousness is a huge part of the TV show.  Let's show boobs and weiners and people having all kinds of crazy sex and bring in those people who really like a bit of soft porn in their television watching habits.  In the book, it's all kind of, well, boring.  Hodor wanders around without clothes and they all tell him to put on pants.  Dany and Drogo have all kinds of sex, but it's from the perspective of a fourteen-year-old girl: alternately sweetly romantic or frank.  In their world, sex is not taboo or shameful, something to shock audiences with, but just part of life and yes, you do it in front of your whole khalasar.  Because you're the khal, why would you sneak off to do what you wanted to do?  It made perfect sense to me in the world that Martin has created.

I feel torn on the aspect of prostitution and rape in the series so far, though.  To me, it seems as though Martin is not shying away from the fact that rape was fairly common in this kind of world and not ever nice or pretty, but I feel like the general attitude is one of mild injustice coupled with acceptance.  I don't think that this is perhaps the correct message for the times we are living in, where rape culture is readily permissible for most and gender roles seem to get stricter in the every day living while they are expanded in the glittering world of movies and TV.  (Just for an example, there seem to be more openly gay TV and film characters, as well as celebrity actors [Hodor!], but yet an LGBT teen is still today four times as likely to commit suicide than his or her straight counterpart.  But hey, way to make homosexuality no big deal, George!  It really doesn't seem to matter if a man likes men or a woman likes women, just as long as everyone's getting some.)  Having said all of that, I think that Martin, for better or for worse, is sticking to the world he created, and in this very Middle Ages world, characters are dealing with rape in the best ways they know how, and the smart ones abhor it and their abhorrence is made clear by the author.  On the subject of prostitution, there was a quote in A Clash of Kings that I thought summed up some of these perspectives pretty well.  It's how you look at your job that really determines what it is, at least as seen through the eyes of whore-house owner and operator Chataya, who looks on her job more as a spiritual calling and a beautiful fulfillment.

The violence has been violent, but I have been more disturbed elsewhere.  Michael Crichton and Richard Preston, your descriptions of those ants versus the tiny people in Micro will haunt me until my dying day.  I will never, ever look at ants the same way again and I am still amazed I was able to truck through that chapter.  Having said all that, haven't gotten to that whole Mountain versus Pedro Pascal bit yet. . . .  But again, life in the Middle Ages, on which this has loosely been based if you hadn't figured that one out already, was brutal and uncompromising.  I like the amount of swords being thrust through heads because it seems probable.  And how great is that whole Ned Stark is the executioner of those he condemns bit?  Because every time that comes up, I just want to give it a "hell yeah!".  I really do think that if you are going to pass judgment, you shouldn't be allowed to do so unless you wield the sword.  If you really want this fellow to die for what you think is wrong, you have to be able to hack his head off with your own two hands.  And a kick-ass giant sword called "Ice".  Best name ever?  Possibly.

My most favorite thing about this series, so far, is the realism.  Yes, there are dragons and magic and crazy shit happening everywhere, but there is a fundamental understanding that life is sad, short, and unsatisfying, so you better realize that now and try and get the most out of it that you can, otherwise you will probably be sorely disappointed.  I like this not just because this is how I often feel about life (for my other side, see Sansa's chapters pre-patriarchal homicide), but because I am kind of fed up with most fantasy novels taking the perspective that everything good will prevail.  No, no.  Sometimes the bastards get you down.  Sometimes they win.  Most of the time they win.  And I can handle the ooey-gooey "goodness always wins" shtick if there's some serious sacrifice (Harry Potter -- don't remind me).  I feel like Lord of the Rings is the perfect example of what I don't really like.  Most bad guys are just bad.  I mean, why does Sauron even want to rule the world, other than sheer megalomania?  At least I know that Joffrey is an evil twat because it's part genetix (eww) and part environment, and he wants to kill and maim and rule because that's how he's been brought up.  In a sense, he doesn't really know anything else, but that doesn't excuse him.  In LOTR, bad guys are bad because. . .they're bad.  It's a nice little circle.  It makes it so that it doesn't really affect you when yet another orc bites the dust.  That orc probably has no feelings or loved ones, so who cares that Aragorn shoved a sword through his forehead?  In Game of Thrones, everyone's a little bit bad.  And except for Joffrey, everyone's a little bit good, too, and I feel so much more conflicted about all of them.  Plus, there's just no sacrifice in LOTR.  Yeah, Frodo can't live life in the Shire anymore.  Okay, fine, but tell me who else of real importance dies on the page?  And don't say Boromir, because he's dead at the end of the first book and isn't really super likable anyway.  Even with my most recently read and beloved fantasy series, Mistborn, I truly felt like good would triumph (mostly because I loved those characters hard enough), and though there was sacrifice, it was kind of fakey feeling.  In the books out of The Chronicles of Narnia that I've read, goodness is never really at stake.  But, if you want to talk about gritty kids' fantasy and some serious sacrifice, pick up The Underland Chronicles.  I'm telling you, best book series.  Anyhow, I like the idea in A Game of Thrones that people aren't who you thought they were, basically everything sucks at least a little, and the gods probably aren't listening.

In conclusion, even though it took me probably two years to actually pick up A Game of Thrones enough to finish it, it was well worth it.  It's probably one of the better written fantasy series I've read in a while, and it's a nice change from all of the teenage angst books I've been reading recently (Looking for Alaska, The Fault in Our Stars, Paper Towns, Divergent, Insurgent, Allegient, half of the Pretty Little Liars series. . .oh god, why do I do this to myself?).  

Having said that, every time I get into a new fantasy series, either I'm picking excellent ones to read or I really should just read more fantasy.  I am already halfway through A Clash of Kings and thoroughly enjoying it (I like Sansa so much better in the books -- poor thing), but I mustn't forget that I have a big, fat Dickens novel to plough through before the year is done, and I'm still trying to get through my quota of at least fifty books this year.  I'm shooting for fifty-five, but we'll see.  I am also in the middle of Mansfield Park, but as I'm reading that on my phone at about the pace of five pages every couple of days, I'm not really holding my breath on finishing that one quickly.  Plus, I know who she gets with at the end, so it's not like it's really riveting me with its mysteries and suspense.  

The real conclusion I've come to, however, is that I need to read more fantasy.  Yeah yeah, I know I should read Wheel of Time, but what else is out there that really, really deserves a read?  I've done Mistborn, I'm doing A Song of Ice and Fire, I've done LOTR and the Chronicles of Narnia (mostly. . .I can't really handle C. S. Lewis that well) and I've read most of the major kids' fantasy series.  What comes next??  Help me fantasy-reading friends, you're my only hopes.

Hmmm. . .maybe I should read some Star Wars. . .

Stage Whispers and Rainbows

It's that time of year again.  The beginning of school.  As a teacher, this time induces very mixed feelings in me.  I love the kids and teaching and my subjects (and my older kids are wildly funny but also wide-eyedly naive and it's adorable and endearing).  But I hate the bureaucracy, the craziness, and the obligations.  Dear lord, the obligations are unceasing.

On the plus side, I can't seem to access my email at home.  Oh well!

It helps that the children are kind of adorable.  My "no hugging" rule has been completely obliterated by their cuteness, and now I just give hugs left and right.  Sigh.  I have also heard several good jokes (What did Darth Vader pay for his suit?  An arm and a leg.  Ha.), have gotten about six pictures of rainbows and one TARDIS, and no one has puked yet.  Best story yet:  I forgot to send in my attendance sheet, so the front office lady came up to get it.  One of the kids oooooohed at me, and I responded with "everyone makes mistakes, even teachers, we're all human, yada yada," and then one kid, in the loudest stage whisper I've possibly ever heard, turns to no one in particular and says "EXCEPT FOR JESUS."  Pure adorableness.

The thing I really can't wait for, to be honest, is having these first few weeks be over and settling into the routine of the school year.  I hate training the new kids (just know what I want already, dammit!), I hate falling asleep on the couch at 7:30 because I'm not used to it yet, and I hate having all of my free time eaten up by responsibilities or the inability to hold up my own eyelids.  In fact, I am sort of stealing this moment in time.  I really should be doing something of more value: showering, working out, reading, grading, being aggressively affectionate with my husband. . . .  But I am enjoying a little stolen moment.  With a cup of coffee.  Because coffee.

I do have some new, pretty exciting things to keep me occupied, if I ever get the time.  I am working on a long-term hush-hush Christmas project, I am on track with my reading project (finally! It only took a bunch of kids books to get me there), and I bought a Camelback to go with my cool new(ish) hiking boots so I've been hiking a lot recently.  OH and I haven't given up on my novel.  I just haven't written in a while.

It has also been raining like crazy and as such the weather has been cooler, and so all I have wanted recently is for it to be fall already.  I can do without winter, and I'm not the biggest fan of spring up here (it's not very warm and quite blustery), but I am seriously excited for fall.  I love everything about fall.  And fall reminds me of vaguely scary creepy movies that are usually Victorian, either in actuality or in feel.  Anyone got any good recommendations?

Oh, and the new season of Doctor Who is starting!  Looks like it's going to be a busy year.

Red Son: Superman, the Soviet Hero

One of my favorite imaginative games to play is thinking up alternates.  Alternate histories, alternate plotlines, alternate universes, yadda yadda.  Maybe nothing quite so mundane as "what if the South won the Civil War," but something more along the lines of the most recent book I read, Superman: Red Son.

In this fast-paced comic (although I'm not really all that versed in comics -- they could all be like this), Superman's capsule lands 12 hours earlier than in the original storyline, putting him down in the middle of Ukraine in 1938, instead of Idaho.  Instead of the quintessential all-American boy turning into the most patriotic and symbolic of American heroes, Superman is a card-carrying member of the communist party.

WHAT A GREAT IDEA.

No, I mean it seriously.  One of the things that always bothers me about most superheroes is their blatant jingoism (at least, from what I'm familiar with. Again, I am not much of a connoisseur into the world of comic books, so obviously there may be nuances I'm missing, and friends who read extensively into this genre, please give me a reading list!  I love stuff like that!).  It seems like every superhero, as portrayed in American movies, anyway, has to rub his/her American-ness in your face.  Either Spidey is posing in front of the American flag or Iron Man announces that the only thing he'd like after being held hostage is a hamburger or anything to do with Captain America for goodness's sake.  Ugh, he's completely my least favorite, but that's a whole other blog post in and of itself.

The other problem I have with superheroes being this way is that it's very one-sided.  Before reading Red Son, I didn't even really think about how the rest of the world would react to there being such superheroes in the US, especially on an individualized aspect.  How does Great Britain feel?  We've always had "special relations" with them as a country -- do they feel protected by superhero proxy? Is this something that they use as leverage in tense international situations?  How does Chile feel?  If we have Superman, why could Hitler do what he did?

Red Son attempts to address some of these issues.  Superman does, in fact, run the world according to his beliefs in a communist utopia.  Everyone is employed, fed, and housed, the world economy runs smoothly, and he steps in to fix basically every small problem ever, with the major exception of the United States.  Unless people are going to get hurt on a massive scale, in which case then he just goes ahead and helps them because fairness?  Not quite clear on that one.  Lex Luthor is still his enemy. . .again, not really sure why.  It seems that Lex Luthor really just doesn't like Superman.  And not really for any particular reason.  He's just another problem to fix, and Lex won't be happy unless he fixes it.  And, of course, he gets joined by a bunch of other weird superhero appearances over the course of time, like Batman.  Batman is annoyed because his parents were killed by henchmen of Stalin and Superman was Stalin's right-hand guy who took over the party, thus he hates Superman?  Again, not real clear.  Maybe Batman just likes chaos.  In which case he's kind of more of the Joker. . .technicalities!  (Oh, side note, I really hate how comics bold every, like, fifth word.  Some seem purposeful [Oh, him again!] but most just seem stylistic.  The problem comes in when I read them bolded in my head.  I get tired and feel aggressive.  Sigh.)  Luthor also gets Green Lantern (who is basically useless -- Superman travels faster than the speed of thought so the Green Lantern gadgets are useless on him!) and Wonder Woman (who has been jilted by Mr. SuperCelibacy and is now a bitter old spinster) to help him in his anti-Superman scheme.  OH, and Lois Lane is his wife.

So, they've done seemingly a lot to turn the plot on its head.  Well done there.  However, it is so poorly executed as to make your head spin.  One page, Lex Luthor seems like a total douchenozzle bad guy, having people executed that he beats in chess, ignoring his wife, murdering security guards and lab techs, having bouts of crippling insanity. . .and yet he balances the budget!  He runs for president and wins overwhelmingly!  He ultimately goes on to do so many great things it's truly absurd, even for a comic book!  So, what the hell am I supposed to be feeling?  The same goes for Superman.  One minute the book is praising him for everyone being fed, housed and employed, and the next debasing him for not allowing people the freedom to be capitalists.  He's committed to his ideals and helping people, and he does -- for 75 years or so?  But basically everyone who's important hates him because communism is stupid.  Even though the United States has been basically post-apocalyptic while the rest of the world floats along in a peaceful, gentle, gliding motion, the people who hate Superman are painted just as much as the good guys as they are the bad guys.

To the hopeful chagrin of the authors (there seem to be no less than five, and one has to wonder why), they were trying to create complex characters.  Nooooooooooooooooooope.  Instead, they created confusing characters.  The book is over and I'm still not sure who to root for.  If this were a big series in which the characters could really develop, I would argue in favor of moral ambiguity.  But as is, it just feels muddled.  I can't seem to work out what the point or message of this book is, aside from providing a vehicle for an alternate universe story.

To me, this had such great potential.  To show to Superman could be used as a positive tool for the workingman, not so much against aliens or bad guys with big weapons, but against hunger, famine, possibly the KGB?  But instead, in this book, he's the one running the KGB. I just don't think that's fair.  If he's an American hero (not brainwashing people with the help of the CIA), then he should be just as much of a Soviet hero, espousing their ideals and providing a shining model.  I wanted the United States to be the true bad guy.  There is a lot wrong with the American way of life.  It is often harsh, ruthless, single-minded in its pursuit of success.  It's very individualistic; there's not a lot of true helping hands in the U.S. as compared to some other cultures and countries.  There are many in this country currently who are destitute -- homeless, hopeless, without adequate food, shelter, or healthcare -- and I feel like all too often they are overlooked.  I know I am guilty of this very thing.  How am I being altruistic in my own life?  Well, right now, not very.  I am looking into some options but have I started doing it yet?  No.  So why can't this reimagining of Superman reimagine a working Communist state, where perfect equality really works and there is no one playing the puppet master and forcing everyone to buy into the Communist Manifesto?  Because in this version, if you don't get with Superman's programs, he reprograms you.  Seriously.  With brain stultifiers, or something, but it's basically a Communist lobotomy.

Instead of this being a tool to look deeper at America's flaws and the potential of another system, this book was a confusing and ultimately disturbing alternate universe.  Are we so closely tied to our national identity and the lies that we tell ourselves that we can't even write a fictional account of ourselves as less than the good guy, as anything other than the rugged rebel who ultimately has the right idea?  Because spoiler -- Lex Luthor wins.  Okay, it's a hollow victory because it turns out Superman is actually Luthor's extra-great grandson sent from the future to save the Earth, but still.  In the end of Red Son, about how Superman is a Soviet hero, he "dies," rambling on about how if there are mistakes to be made, they should be made by humans and not aliens, the obviously insane Lex Luthor takes over the world, and literally every problem of all time is solved by his gigantic mass of gray matter.  WTF?  How is the titular character NOT THE HERO?  But he's not.  The bad guy is the hero, basically by virtue of upholding American ideals and not the tenets held by those wacko commie pinkos.

I despair.  Or I go off to write my own version in my head as I drift off to sleep.

On another note, saw the new X-Men movie.  While I've never really liked the X-Men (can no one ever just sit down and talk to each other??), this movie wasn't half bad.  It was probably my favorite of the bunch (all of which I have inexplicably seen. . .still don't know how I've managed that), and even though the climax was a solid third/half of the movie, I felt genuinely invested.   Whaaaaaaat.

In other literary news, I have powered through five Pretty Little Liars novels, each one essentially identical to its predecessor, and I have concluded that the show is much better.  I'm also working through Game of Thrones (again), hoping to start my new Dickens novel soon (Dombey and Son) and am finally, finally, FINALLY in the home stretch for the Mistborn series concluder, The Hero of Ages, by Brandon Sanderson.  Maybe I've been drawing it out because I'm so invested in these characters and would hate to say goodbye, but I have only about 6 hours left on my audiobook.  Oh yeah.  Be jealous.

Until next time, happy reading!

8-Question Science Fiction/Fantasy Survey

Stolen shamelessly from my friend Ryan over at www.ryanbanderson.com -- thanks!  Because I feel that science fiction and fantasy need and deserve a wider readership than they perhaps currently receive.  On to the questions!

1.  The first science fiction, fantasy or horror book I ever read was:

The first one I can remember is My Father's Dragon, which my mother read to me in a single day when I was in kindergarten.  It is the highly imaginative and clever tale of the narrator's father and his quest to find and free a baby dragon, and all the animals he must outwit in order to succeed.  Very adorable!

2.  The last science fiction, fantasy, or horror book I read that I'd put in my "Top 20" list is:

The Well of Ascension by Brandon Sanderson, the second in the Mistborn trilogy.  Just outstanding work, altogether.  

3.  The last science fiction, fantasy, or horror book I couldn't finish was:

I really can't remember the last book I didn't finish, let alone a science fiction/fantasy book I didn't finish.  Does the Percy Jackson series count?  I've gotten through 1-3 but can't seem to bring myself to pick up #4.  Mostly, it just takes me forever to finish a book, but I finish it eventually.

4.  A science fiction, fantasy, or horror author whose work I cannot get enough of is:

Colin Meloy.  I love the Wildwood series and I'm purposely putting off the last one to make it last a lot longer.  But I also am really into Brandon Sanderson right now and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child.  They're thriller writers, those last two, as a pair, but I feel like they secretly count.

5.  A science fiction, fantasy, or horror author I'm ashamed to admit I haven't read yet is:

Hoo boy.  Where to begin.  Let's start.

Stephen King.
Isaac Asimov.
Robert Jordan.
Frank Herbert.
Ayn Rand.

And those are just the ones off the top of my head.  When I start looking over lists, I find I am woefully underread.

6.  A science fiction, fantasy, or horror book I would recommend to someone who hasn't read sf/f/h is:

The Underland Chronicles by Susan Collins.  It's not so fantasy that people would be seriously put off (i.e. Dune or The Wheel of Time that are so huge, sprawling, and comprehensively built worlds), it's deep enough to appeal to the thinker in most, and it's actually for kids, so it's an easy read.  Plus, it's by the same author as The Hunger Games but much more hipster.

7.  A science fiction, fantasy, or horror book that's terribly underrated is:

See above answer.  And Wildwood.  And Thunderhead.  Holy moly, Thunderhead.  I've rarely read anything that literally vacuumed me up.  I actually stayed up late into the night to finish it and wished I hadn't because it got super scary and it was late into the night.  Eeeek!  Plus, H. P. Lovecraft and H. G. Wells.  I also love the Oz series -- as a kid, they were full of endless delights.

8.  A science fiction, fantasy, or horror book that's terrible overrated is:

Basically every teen fantasy novel ever.  Twilight.  Beautiful Creatures.  So far, Divergent.  Most of the second and definitely the third Hunger Games.    And I don't really care for Jules Verne.  He's always spoken of as being a huge inspiration to science fiction and fantasy writers, particularly in TV shows and movies, but I'm starting to think they just didn't have anyone else to write about.  I also don't get the hype over Percy Jackson.  Or, to be honest, The Chronicles of Narnia (puke) and more and more I don't get The Lord of the Rings.  It's unwieldy, cumbersome, and not really terribly exciting.  I think people are much more excited by the movies and then transfer that excitement onto the books.  A Wrinkle in Time.  Fahrenheit 451.  

I have plenty more that I want to look at and read, but I seem to have some strong opinions about the ones I have read, hahaha.  I love moving forward and reading more books!  Yay!  If you have suggestions for must-reads, let me know!

It's No Longer Fun, It's Just Cold.

So it's that fun time of winter. . .the time when the only holiday to look forward to is one that everyone likes to hate on despite it being the "holiday of love," the weather is nothing but bleak and dreary, and even though it's plenty cold there's no sign of snow or hope.  Yup.  I'm excited.

Now, normally, I would be excited.  I'm the kind of gal who thinks slugs are adorable and the best feeling in the world is shoving your arms into a barrel of beans, all the way up to the elbows.  Bleak, depressing winters sound like something I could get behind, right?

Well, not this week.  Sure, some days, when you just want to be melancholy and listen to depressing music, it's the most perfect weather imaginable (other than that perfect cloudy/rainy fall day where there's still a bit of color but most of the leaves have fallen).  This week, though, I have plenty to bring me down and I'm looking for a bit of. . .well, not spring, per se, but maybe that silver lining.  My silver lining is tips and tricks for dealing with the cold.

The cold gets to me much more as of late -- it may have something to do with the fact that I'm a woman and not a natural wood-burning stove, or perhaps since I've shed almost 30lbs since last May I just have less bulk to keep me warm.  Practically every time I've gone from a seated position to a standing position I get positively chilled through: the shakes, the shivers, the irreconcilable feeling of "you'll never be warm again" at the depth of my core. . .and so, because I felt like it, I thought I'd share my favorite ways of being warm and some of my silver linings through this insanely cold spurt of winter I seem to be experiencing.

1.  Get a cuddle buddy.

No, but seriously.  Nothing warms me (or anybody else, for that matter) as quickly as possible is snuggling something else warm.  I typically use my husband.  Shamelessly.  There's nothing quite so satisfying as sucking the warmth out of someone else.  Or a cat, or a dog, or an electric blanket.  However, fish tend to not make good snuggle partners.  FYI.

2.  Fuzzy socks.

These are my feet, but damn I wish they were.  Look at dem socks.  Just look at 'em.  They look so comfy and happy and fuzzy. . . .  Plus, the fuzziness makes for great traction when it's 4AM and your feet are too hot under the five blankets you put on the bed and you must remove them or die.  Because at 4AM your choices are always do the thing you want to do or die.  Or pee the bed.  But anyway, easy to grasp with your toes and pull right off.

3.  Hot beverages.

You know me.  Normally, I'm a coffee fieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeend.  Yum yum yum.  And of course I have not stopped drinking coffee, but as the day wears on, people like myself can tolerate less and less caffeine.  A nice herbal tea is just the thing for a cold night, or, if you like the sweeter stuff, hot chocolate.  I know, right?  Revolutionary.  YOU KNOW WHAT IS REVOLUTIONARY?  Apple chai.  I know, I was all like, whaaaat?  It's apple juice steamed with chai concentrate.  It's the most delicious apple cider with just a hint of caffeine.  It's like crack.  It's my only late-afternoon/evening drink if I'm not at home anymore.  I am currently drinking a blood orange rooibous.  So good.

Now where's spring?