Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Awakening: S.J. Bolton






How did it all begin?

I suppose it would be the day I rescued a newborn baby from a poisonous snake, heard the news of my mother’s death and encountered my first ghost.





Clara Benning, a reclusive and scarred young veterinarian, becomes embroiled in a deadly mystery when poisonous snakes seem to invade her small village. But this isn't possibly a natural phenomenon, not when the snakes are carefully placed by the dead...and the people are injected with an uber-lethal amount of venom by a human hand. As Clara unwilling is called into working with both a kind-hearted policeman and an eccentric snake expert, she discovers that the villainy lies deep within the secrets of the not-so-distant past in her village.



Awakening is S.J. Bolton's second novel after the Edgar Award-nominated and highly praised Sacrifice, and it is easy to say that with such writing, her work will continue to gain prominence. The prose of Awakening, written entirely in first person, is perfectly suited to Clara's voice, fears, and concerns as she struggles with her own traumatic past and reconciling herself to her present and future. Parts in Clara's vet surgery can be downright squeamish at times, but the character's pragmatic and practical way of dealing with injured animals is telling about her personality and how she deals (or chooses not to deal) with the death of her mother, her own disfigurement, and the very real danger that she's in by researching the deaths by snake. As creepy (and crawly) is the writing, the story is as much about Clara as it is the snakes and the village mystery, as Clara struggles to come out of herself and join the world, realizing that disfigurement is not death.



However much a personal story for Clara, though, the mystery remains at the fore and the descriptive writing - through abandoned houses and churches, terrifying religious rites, massive snake migration through fields, and threatening gangs of teenagers - keeps this quiet book quietly disconcerting. As Clara spends much time alone in her head, there's plenty of room for very non-intrusive descriptive passages that fit the mood and the scene as the reader sees the world through her very observant eyes. The plot doesn't fail or venture into the outlandish at any point, which is saying something when you're dealing with tropical snakes in England, although a few red herrings are obvious at an occasion or two.



Awakening is a stroke of brilliance overall, and best suited for those quiet, lonely nights when danger and mystery are scratching at the dark windows. It won't disappoint.

Friday, November 27, 2009

On not reading The Windflower (the world tour)


I have had in my hot little hands - for several months now - the battered copy of The Windflower that was to make its way from blogger to blogger as we all read and react to this old school of Old School romance. This is my post of apology and explanation. I've had this book since sometime in the spring. It did not call to me, what with its watercolored (and flat crazy) cover and its antiquated notions of power and romance. Here I quote Ana, who in her post covered a lot of what I'd like to say but did so much more eloquently than I could try through my anger and rage:
Note: the Windflower has no rape, in case you were wondering. And this is the most positive thing I can say about the hero: at least he didn’t get to rape her – not that he didn’t try mind you – the motivation, the frame of mind, the rage was all there. But things and people kept interrupting them. And this is my whole point: I do not want to finish a romance novel thinking “well, at least he didn’t rape her”.

Well, that sort of covers it for me.

Rape is not romance. Rape is not a laughing matter. Rape is not a cheap literary device. Rape is something I take enormously seriously, whether it's a real assaulted woman or a fictional one. And frankly, I just cannot get along with a novel in which a woman is raped and then realizes that for whatever reason (mitigating circumstances, a progression of emotion), she is in love with him. Because, people, rape is not love. Rape is not consensual, by definition, and in this day and age I find it enormously challenging to buy into depicting rape - that most subjecting of crimes to a woman - as something that becomes acceptable if the woman falls in love with the man who rapes her.

No, people. No.

I'm going to talk specifically about acquaintance or date rape since it seems most applicable to The Windflower in terms of Merry - obviously - knowing her near-rapist. In acquaintance rape, women sometimes don't even realize they've been raped. Sad but so true. Particularly when a woman is drugged and raped, but even when a woman is raped by a friend, boyfriend, husband, or other acquaintance. According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN), 78% of rapes are committed by a non-stranger, with 38% a friend and an astonishing 28% an intimate. As RAINN clarifies on a page that is poignantly titled, "Was I Raped?":
Rape can occur when the offender and the victim have a pre-existing relationship (sometimes called “date rape” or “acquaintance rape”), or even when the offender is the victim’s spouse. It does not matter whether the other person is an
ex-boyfriend or a complete stranger, and it doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex in the past. If it is nonconsensual this time, it is rape.
Imagine, if you will, the spiral of emotions when the subconscious mind recognizes that the body has been violated while the conscious mind remains unaware of the assault due to antiquated societal "norms" that state that the wife is the possession of the husband, that acquiescence is preferable to fighting, or even that the woman owes something to the man for the date. That if a woman is a willing participant to some sexual activities, it means that the woman is assenting to sex, even if she verbalizes her wish not to have sex. These things happen. And worse, so very worse, many times the woman is made to feel as if a rape did not occur. According to RAINN, common obstacles to coping and recovery include

  • common social myths, such as the attack was the victim's fault due to suggestive dress or intimate actions such as kissing,

  • fear of retaliation or further harm, and

  • returning to a daily routine, especially since in date or acquaintance rape the rapist is usually a part of the victim's everyday life
RAINN further notes, so sadly:
Despite the violation and reality of physical and emotional trauma, victims of acquaintance assault often do not identify their experience as sexual assault. Instead of focusing on the violation of the sexual assault, victims of acquaintance rape often blame themselves for the assault...Because the perpetrators are known to their victims and are often someone with whom they socialize, victims of acquaintance sexual assault often have to encounter their assailants after the rape. Fear of such encounters can cause increased distress and humiliation for the victims.
There are not a lot of firm statistics on date or acquaintance rape for many of the reasons I've listed above but namely because most are not reported, either out of lack of knowledge of the rape or the fear or humility that stems from the assault. RAINN estimates that 60% of sexual assaults are not reported to the authorities.

Rape affects the body and the mind. Aftereffects can include depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, disassociative identity disorder, flashbacks, physical ailments, pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, and sadly, suicide. Even something so mundane as watching television or movies can trigger negative reactions to one's own sexual assault.

My friends, I cannot take this topic lightly. I never do.

I eagerly wanted to be a part of The Windflower World Tour, thinking that it would be a good and fun opportunity to read a book that I'd probably never pick up on my own. My mental block prevented this, and I sincerely apologize for holding up the tour for so long. This post certainly isn't the critique or commentary that you might expect, but I thought that even if I was unable to finish the book, I could throw a few buckets of cold water out there on the antiquated notion of rape as romance. As in, rape is not romance. The end.

Up next on the tour? Literary Escapism. My best wishes for a better time of it than I had.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Not Another Bad Date: Rachel Gibson

Caveat: Spoilers here. Lots. In fact, don’t read this unless you’ve already read the book, don’t plan on reading the book, or just don’t care if you find out everything that happens.

I really wanted to like this book. I swear. I’d read one previously by this author that I didn’t like at all, which more or less spoiled the thought of reading more. But my opinion was swayed: lots of folks love Rachel Gibson, and this particular one was awarded a 2009 RITA. Admittedly I’ve figured out that the RITA nominations (and wins) means little in terms of quality, or at least in terms of what I like. But authors that I like still can produce books that I don’t, and taking the opinion that “fifty million Elvis fans can’t be wrong,” I decided to try Not Another Bad Date.

Adele moves back to her hometown to take care of a sick sister and her niece, and discovers that Zach, her one true love from college, is now coaching the high school football team. He’s a widower, richer than Croesus from a very successful stint in the NFL, and has a daughter the same age as Adele’s niece – and of course, Zach was married to Adele’s archenemy from primary school through college. Adele and Zach fall in lust, then love-ish, then she miraculously gets pregnant (despite an IUD, but more on these mysterious circumstances later). Zach thinks that Adele’s trying to trap him into marriage – just like his deceased wife did – and they split up and Adele moves home. Zach then has an epiphany that he loves Adele with or without accidental pregnancy, so he tracks her down to her home in Boise and proposes. HEA abounds.

I have a lot to say about all of this. A lot.

First of all, the “dead person from not-quite-heaven manipulating people” thing has been done, and much more coherently, by Jude Deveraux in Wishes. In NABD, Devon, Zach’s deceased wife, hasn’t really been good enough to get into heaven so she waits in various in-betweens like Walmart (restricted to the shoe section), and every now and again her afterlife coordinator (and former third grade teacher) shows up and allows her to make a wish to try to do good. With the first wish, she curses Adele to a series of bad first dates, where everything seems to be just fine and nice but then suddenly the men turn into assholes of various colors. (For example, the assistant coach with whom Adele has an enjoyable if not particularly exciting first date, who suddenly turns around and lewdly propositions her with a three-way with one of her friends.) Devon’s second wish makes Adele’s IUD disappear and a condom break, resulting in the accidental pregnancy. I’m not kidding – when Adele goes to the doctor and discovers she’s pregnant, they do an ultrasound and discover that her IUD had literally disappeared. I’m well and fine with a little ghostly guidance every now and again, but Devon’s presence was pervasive between her scenes and constant reminders of her in Adele and Zach’s world, and it was incredibly jarring and not quite obvious what was supposed to be happening when we flashed from earth to Walmart.

On the characters: Zach was an asshole. Really. I think he was supposed to be manly and forceful, but frankly I thought he was a complete asshole, and I could not understand why it was that Adele had fallen for him, either in college or at the present. He was egotistical and demanding, including in the physical scenes with Adele. None were rape or a forced seduction sort of scenarios – I would have far harsher things to say about that – but there was an egotistical demanding from him on top of an almost complete disregard for Adele’s opinions in the situations that I did not find manly or forceful, I found full of asshattery. Again, I know that sounds like a forced seduction but it wasn’t, Adele was definitely agreeing to the seduction. There are definitely good ways to do manly and dominating in seduction scenes and I’ve read plenty. If done right, it adds a level of darkness and overwhelm without necessarily involving submission or force. But the majority of the physical scenes with Adele and Zach felt very definitely unequal. Zach held the upper hand, he knew it, and he wielded it. This made me feel that Adele, though consenting, had little control.

Zach also exhibited lots of other asshattery moments, like telling Adele once that he was visiting her because he was bored even while his mind told him that him that he was visiting because he missed her. I don’t think anyone can mistake being told that you were a better option than boredom for a compliment or anything other than mean and rather petty. Surely this was to demonstrate how Zach fought his own emotions, but as he fights his own emotion he says casually hurtful things.

When Adele and Zach discovered the pregnancy, Zach also exhibited further asshattery by deciding that Adele was trying to trap him into marriage, particularly since he had been burnt by that before with Devon (and since Adele had fatefully mentioned that she would like to have kids in the very vague Someday.) He outright accused Adele of lying to him about having an IUD and told her that he wouldn’t marry her, even though Adele very specifically never said anything about marriage when she told him she was pregnant. Very shortly after, being the southern gentleman that he is, Zach demands that she marry him while she again reiterates that she would not marry him without love, precipitating Adele’s sudden move back to Boise.

On the accidental pregnancy plot happily-ever-after. I have a lot of opinions about pregnancy HEAs for reading surprisingly few of them in contemporary settings. I almost always find them unnecessary, superfluous to the actual plot. I will add that in historicals, I never particularly have a problem with them even though I still find the Regency almost-obligatory happy baby/pregnancy/family epilogue annoying. In context, let’s be fair, most aristocratic marriages in that period were exactly for the purpose of providing progeny for the line. An heir and a spare, if you will. The Happy Family epilogue is almost always outside the actual plot of bringing a hero and heroine together but the actual children there serve a bit of historical purpose, no matter how damn happy they are. So yes, to me, historicals with the Happy Baby get a bit of a blanket pass, however fair that is or isn’t. Baby HEA epilogues in contemporaries are a lot more gratuitous since we no longer live in a society that gauges a woman’s worth by her fertility. I wouldn’t go so far as to think that this is the genre’s way of placing the woman back into traditional roles at hearth and home, nor as a tacit approval of the notion of woman’s worth as solely as a baby-maker nor an endorsement of the opinion that a woman’s happiness can only be achieved by bringing forth new life. But I do think that pregnancy in contemporary romances need to be contextual, a firm part of the plot, whether it’s a planned, unplanned, surprise, or urgent issue. Context, people. Context.

In NABD, the pregnancy thing was so far out of left field - so extra-contextual, if you will – that I expected a billionaire Grecian sheik to next show up, claiming Zach as his heir. Or whatever. I’ll reiterate that the entire pregnancy was caused by some sort of paranormal hocus pocus on the part of Devon, not an actual or realistic plot device. (Condom breaking? Sure. Disappearing IUD? No.) This made me suspicious of the pregnancy-as-plot to begin with. One could possibly argue that as Adele spends a lot of time in the book with her thirteen-year-old niece, her heavily-pregnant sister, and later, her new nephew, that this constitutes a slow build to an appropriate pregnancy. But I have to again go back to the concept of Devon somehow causing the pregnancy from the Great Beyond to negate this idea. Adele’s pregnancy wasn’t a part of a contextual character growth. In fact, Adele’s pregnancy was strangely enough the catalyst for the HEA, not the cause, which made the pregnancy all the more extraneous. (And I’ll add here that Zach’s apparent need to deal with the pregnancy and his belief in Adele’s deliberate deception as a part of him realizing he loved her? Weak and almost offensive.)

What could have made this whole pregnancy plot better? If it hadn’t been initiated by a dead person. Period. However, even if the pregnancy wasn’t the result of Devon’s meddling it would be extraneous, as if something was needed other than Zach’s asshattery and lack of connection with his emotions to cause that roadblock, that crisis point in their romance that would bring them together. There were several other options for that roadblock, by the way. How about Zach’s daughter, who was pissed that he was seeing Adele? That’s a pre-existing child, which is acceptable to me in terms of plot. Or how about Adele’s sister’s toxic pregnancy and dissolving marriage? Or Adele’s and Devon’s enmity and how it would affect her relationship with Zach and his daughter? Or, heavens forbid, if they would have been caught making love in the women’s bathroom at the high school instead of a near-miss, which could have been scandalous and possibly career-ending for Zach? Oh, the options are endless. But instead the plot reverts to not only an old trick, but a very out-of-context old trick.

Sigh.

I’ll close by saying that I really wanted to like this book, and I really tried. I realized very shortly into it that I wasn’t going to love it, and even when I noticed that our hero was someone I didn’t like I kept trying. However, the second that pregnancy was thrown in like the kitchen sink, it was a futile exercise for me. There was no hope of it being redeemed in my eyes.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Bloody Good: Georgia Evans


I'm not feeling terribly loquacious (she says now), so I'm going with bullet-points: the bad, the good.

What didn't do it for me:
  • Clunky prose throughout, especially in dialogue

  • A very tell-not-show approach to the characters and their various Otherness identities.

  • ...and on that, the signs or abilities of the Otherness is a little vague. I still am not certain what being Pixie is supposed to mean

  • The plot is pretty straightforward - you know who the bad guys are, there's no mystery, just a matter of the characters working things out

  • I also felt no emotional connection - between me and the characters, between the characters, etc.

  • The love between Alice and Peter...um...it didn't grow or evolve as a relationship, although the bombing scene did go some distance towards bringing them together. But otherwise, boom, they were in love.
What did do it for me:
  • I very much like the early WWII southern England setting with the planes overhead, the not-so-mysterious munitions factory up on the heath, and the interesting choice of a Conscientious Objector as a hero. (Though I didn't particularly get involved with why he was a CO since he didn't particularly seem too emotional about it either. See above what with emotional connections.)

  • The endless cups of tea, as Alice's gran seems to think it will solve all ills.

  • In fact, all the very British-isms, very folksy, earthy, and realistic

  • The cover - seriously. Very Neil Gaiman early-stages storyboard, and the parachuting vampires made me giggle. And finally...

  • Nazi vampire spies invading England.

  • Nazi.

  • Vampire.

  • Spies.
Yes, Nazi vampire spies. I love it. This is one of those rare books where even though the execution was shaky and the plot was thin, it had me at Nazi. Vampire. Spies. Seriously. Nazi. Vampire. Spies. So even though overall I can't necessarily say that this is a good book and wholeheartedly recommend it to others, there was something in it that worked for me - and that was Nazi vampire spies. This is the first of a trilogy, and I'm in for the next two. Come on. Nazi. Vampire. Spies.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Publisher's Weekly 2009 Top 100

PW posted their top 100 books of 2009, including a top ten that, the Green Lantern Press noted, included no women. Outside of the fact that that's pretty damn astounding and very, very old school of them (complete with dark panelling, great halls in schools, and wear-your-tie-to-class ethos), I can't comment too much since I haven't read any of the top ten. Not a single one. In fact, the only one that looks interesting to me is The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science by Richard Holmes, even though I tend to shy away from anything with the word "Discover" in the title. Yeah, I'm not kidding. Arbitrary? Yes. That's what makes me interesting.

But I did get to a few of the others, or they're on my tbr.

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn. This was a book that I put forward for my October book club read, and it was vetoed since a lot of the members were worried it would give them nightmares. I didn't think it sounded that scary, but frankly the idea of a book affecting someone that much made me want to read it all the more. It also would have been a great RIP read if I would have gotten around to it, Set around a brutal night in which the narrator's family is murdered by her brother, the book deals with the memory and the truth of the night years later. This looked chilling and excellent.

Drood by Dan Simmons. I actually forgot this came out this year, and I certainly forgot to review it. It was well worth it - the book is brooding and mysterious, a tad on the long side, and not only wove its own excellent story but made me search out both Dickens' original Drood and Wilkie Collins' works. The scenes with the green woman on the back stairs....ugh. The way the book played with both reality and hallucination was masterly.

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. I admit, I haven't been a fan of Waters since not particularly finding Fingersmith anything to write home about. Frankly, I still don't see what the fuss is - I found Fingersmith enormously predictable although people seem to love it. But The Little Stranger was a finalist for the Man Booker Prize, and yes, I'm the sort of person who would notice that sort of thing and let it compel me to give an author another try. Elitist much? (I can call myself an elitist. I'd appreciate it if you didn't, thanks much.)

Captive of Sin by Anna Campbell. Whoa. Wait a sec...hey, that's a romance novel! A dark Regency, in fact! What the hell is it doing on the PW's male-centric list? And who dared tell them that genre writing is good writing too? I can't even tell you how happy it made me to see it there, and I even had to read it twice to make sure it was the Captive of Sin by the Anna Campbell whom I know through Romancelandia websites like the Smart Bitches and Dear Author. (She's also my Goodreads friend, though I'll admit I've never met her. I'm not even certain we've had an e-conversation of any type, though I just left her a congratulatory note through Goodreads.)

I perused the Mass Market section a little closer (woo-hoo, a whole five books - way to tap into the collective consciousness, PW) and found that three of the five are romances: Captive of Sin, Soulless by Gail Carringer (noted as "Victorian romance, supernatural creatures, steampunk sensibilities and a healthy dose of the bizarre ." Um, paranormal shelf? Whichever, this looks clever), and A Dark Love by Margaret Carroll, probably a modern romantic suspense. I'd never heard of Carringer or Carroll, but good on you too.

Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman by John Krakauer. This is up there on my list too, when I can find a used copy somewhere. I recently read Krakauer's Under the Banner of Heaven, which was astounding and so very fascinating. When I found out that he was writing the story of Pat Tillman - with his family's blessings and assistance - I was on board. Immediately.

What's there that you like? What's missing? I have a hard time remembering what I've read that came out this year since I tend to wait for paperbacks or used books, but Drood captured my imagination like nothing else I read this year that was also a 2009 release. I will have to say that the best book I've read this year, though, is Embers by Sandor Marai - which was first published in English in 2000 though in his native Hungarian in 1942. No one ever accused me of being a modernist.

Friday, October 30, 2009

The Sum of His Syndromes: K.B. Dixon

Read my review of K.B. Dixon's fiction The Sum of His Syndromes, written as a series of notes from a men's bathroom, at Lit Mob.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Olive Kitteridge: Elizabeth Strout


Olive Kitteridge ages as steady as a large ship that pushes the small out of its wake through the series of short stories that make up the eponymous novel. With an eye for detail, emotion, and despair, author Elizabeth Strout miraculously gives a portrait of Olive through the eyes of the small Maine town around her: former students, neighbors, friends, strangers to the town. And it’s really nothing short of amazing writing that we know, we know exactly who Olive is well before she gets to be the main character in a story. In a few of the stories, Olive is nothing more than a passing body, moving in and out of the room. But still we know who she is, we know her personality without having it presented to us. As Olive, her family, and the people around her age, watching mortality creep up and remembering people come and gone, almost every single person suffers pangs and regrets of lost hope and missing loves, and almost unerringly fails to recognize the good of their life until it’s too late.

It wasn’t quite as depressing as Tess of the d’Urbervilles, but it was pretty damn close. In fact, the most positive moment of the book was when a middle-aged man left his wife after he’d fallen in love with another woman. Oh, yes, and this happened after they'd failed in nursing a young woman through severe anorexia and the young woman died.

This was a good read, and I enjoyed it. I really did. In a certain way. It didn’t get me out of bed in the morning – and I mean that in the literal sense: I was also reading The Haunting of Hill House, and I would get out of bed in the morning excited to read over breakfast. Olive Kitteridge did not quite make me excited to read. Frankly, reading it at first left me awash with admiration for the writing, then made me hold out for some happiness, a golden moment or two to sustain me, and then eventually just sort of made me depressed.

And I get it. This is life. Life is not always happy-go-lucky. In fact, it seldom is. Olive Kitteridge reflects this in spades and clubs too. There’s no doubt in my mind this is a masterwork, and not just because it won a Pulitzer. The writing is impeccable, and the characters are drawn with exacting, meticulous detail without ever feeling like you’re doing anything except gleaning information – learning about the characters as they reveal themselves. This novel is brilliant. It just happens to also be very depressing.

Friday, October 23, 2009

My 2009 book list: a picture of slacking

So back on New Year's Day I set forth with a list of books that I wanted to read in 2009. Make no mistake, this was not the comprehensive list of what I planned on reading for the year. Pah, a measly fifteen for the year? Fie. No, these fifteen were simply goals of some quality and some personal interests to keep me on track when I found myself listlessly wondering what to read next.

As you can see, the list as it currently stands - just to the top left on the toolbar there - is a little different from when I started ten months ago. I took out Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance since I seemed to recall not being particularly enamored of it when I read it at age twenty-one. I removed Les Miserables since at this point I didn't think I would get through it and I'd already read it and loved it. I even slyly took out the Charles de Lint, and I'm sure Daphne will be disappointed in me. And then, strangely, I added The Confederacy of Dunces, since I was taking a trip to New Orleans. (That reading is being held up by Jeff's reading of it first, which I never should have agreed to since I could have finished it quickly and passed it along while we were still in New Orleans. Lesson learned. Though I would have had a difficult time extracting it from him in the first place, seeing as how he bought it at Powell's in the airport about an hour before we left. That would have been a bit gauche of me. But I digress.)

What have I managed on that now-current list of thirteen? Well, how shameful. Three.

The Motel Life, which I enjoyed in a "hauntingly beautiful" sort of way.

Livinia, which I immensely enjoyed even with the limitations of a long, dying fall at the end and a drastic change of agency.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, which took me longer than any book in recent history (except for my college reading of Les Miserables and, of course, Anna Karenina.) I still haven't reviewed this on, how shameful again.

Well, now I have about two and a half months to barrel through the rest of it. This may not be possible, but let's be honest: Emily Dickinson poetry is very broad, so technically I could read one poem and fulfill that (though I probably won't stop at one.) Metamorphosis should be (god, I say it now) easy enough to get through. At least it's short. I've read half of Mrs. Dalloway (multiple times), so at least I can pick up where I left off. And I've actually read about a third of Jude the Obscure and have picked it back up, having briefly forgotten how Hardy makes me want to throw myself in the Willamette. Yeah, I love that guy.

I am drowning in books right now. I just lucked out and got Terry Pratchett's new book for review, and on top of that I have Georgia Evans' Bloody Good, which I've been looking forward to for some time. (Nazi vampire spies infiltrate the south of England during World War II. Nazi. Vampire. Spies.) At the same time, I am floundering through a really very boring biography of Mary Wollstonecraft (no, not the person who wrote Frankenstein, it's her mother) and have pretty much forgotten about The Poe Shadow for now. Sheesh. I also have reviews backlogged: The Bronte Myth and In the Devil's Snare just to name two that are floating around in my head.

Wherever do I find the time? Oh, that's right, I don't have any hobbies.

Well, I'm not going to get through my 2009 list. That's not a big deal to me since it wasn't a challenge to begin with. Actually my lack of caring probably has something to do with generally rebelling against whatever I'm told to do, up to and including when I tell myself to do something. In any case, maybe I can shoot through Jude - it's raining outside, I can be depressed right now - and finish up a few others. Regardless, I suppose I'll be reading what I want to read and not what I tell myself to read. And then I'll get annoyed at myself for not finishing a list...and roll over the unfinished books into 2010's list...and then have a hulking scary 2010 list...and be annoyed all over again. Whose idea was this anyway? Oh, right.