bookity boo

If Dr Seuss had written Twilight?

2012-01-06T16:31:00.002+10:00

This is truly genius, from a commenter replying to an article on how famous writers would have written Twilight:

Jake likes a girl. Her name is Bella.
Bella likes a different fella.
See this vamp? This is Ed.
Ed is pale. Ed is dead.
Ed saved Bella from a van.
Ed must be a special man.
Ed won't kill boys. He won't kill girls.
Ed gets fed on deer and squirrels.
This is James. He's a tracker.
He's a sort of vamp attacker.
James hunts Bella for a thrill.
Will Ed kill him? Yes, he will.
But James gave her a little bite.
Will she be a vamp? She might!
Edward fixes Bella's cut.
She won't be a vampire.
But...
She becomes one. Read some more.
She's a vampire in book 4.

[source]

The fairytale that is true

2011-09-28T19:00:00.002+10:00

Telling the Truth: the Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale is a tiny book – less than a hundred pages – but author Frederick Buechner makes each word count, packing the text with literary beauty and a deep passion for the gospel story. The four chapters are comprised of material from four lectures originally given at Yale University, but they read more like impassioned odes to the gospel than transcribed speech. The book opens with a call to preachers – which we are all meant to be, in one way or another – a powerful call to honestly tell the truth of the gospel. This truth, Buechner writes, is more than mere head knowledge. It appeals to the very human parts of us that cry out for answers, the answers that might fill the ‘emptiness where grace and peace belong’ (p. 4). It is the heart’s cry of every man and woman. It is the darkness and the terror, what we feel and lack as much as what we believe or morally assert. And the answer to all of this, Buechner says, lies in the truth of the gospel which comes to us in the form of a tragedy, a comedy, and a fairy tale.

The gospel starts in silence, Buechner writes, the silence of no answers, the silence of the bleak realisation of our own filthiness. It is a tragedy before it is anything else. It ‘is bad news before it is good news’ (p. 7). The bad news is that goodness is entirely out of our grasp. We are consigned to an emptiness of existence; we cannot save ourselves. We are shown our inability to be the men and women we always thought we could be. We are Pontius Pilate, as he agonises over the man who calls himself the king of the Jews. We are Henry Ward Beecher, fearing he has destroyed the message he dared to preach because he did not remain faithful to his wife. The gospel starts here, Buechner writes, because it must ‘strip us bare in order ultimately to clothe us’ (p. 33).

Then, when the way is steeped in tragedy and we know that we are empty, grasping, futile, alone, then comes the twist, the great comedic surprise: that things can turn around and the whole messy situation can be reversed. Buechner calls it the comedy of grace, grace which ‘can’t possibly happen because it can only impossibly happen’ (p. 58). If ‘the tragic is the inevitable,’ then ‘the comic is the unforeseeable’ (p. 57). We cannot expect it and yet somehow it happens. It is a comedy which set Abraham and Sarah laughing in the face of the angel of the Lord. It is a comedy in which the bums living on the streets get invited into the kingdom of God. It is startling and laughable and Jesus tells us we will not understand it unless we become like little children.

Finally, the gospel is a fairy tale. Fairy tales revel in transportation into impossible worlds, making unreality into reality. Dorothy somehow found herself in Oz. Alice ended up through the looking glass. Lucy stumbled into Narnia. The appeal of these stories is universal, and the heart wonders if these worlds of magic and mystery are closer than we think. The gospel answers yes. Fairy tale worlds burst into the everyday lives of Dorothy and Alice and Lucy (p. 77) and in the same way, the gospel bursts into our everyday world. In the fairy tale the lowly one becomes the princess, and so in life it is not always the beautiful or the powerful who triumph in the end. Jesus was not the least bit kingly to look upon, and his manner was only humble. ‘But the whole point of the fairytale of the Gospel is, of course, that he is the king in spite of everything’ (p. 90). It is impossible but it is true. It happened and is happening yet. Darkness meets light, and though darkness might loom large and light looks feeble, it is only a charade: light wins and will always win. The fairy tale of the gospel is surprising. Everything gets turned around, and it takes our breath away.

The preacher’s job then, Buechner insists, ‘is to hold up life’ (p. 16) and to express the truth of the gospel through the truth of human experience. Buechner himself does this by drawing out the humanity of the people we know from Scripture. He is, first and foremost, a storyteller, and he pulls truth from many Bible stories, retelling them so that the reader becomes a part of the story, recognising the prodigal son in him or herself.
Buechner’s writing is vivid, beautiful, and evocative. Within his sermons-turned-chapters he quotes from Scripture throughout the Old and New Testaments. He speaks of the poetry of prophecy, and explores truth in the ancient origin stories, as well as in Jesus’ parables. He revels in the literary beauty of the Bible along with the classics of English literature, quoting Herman Melville, CS Lewis, Shakespeare, and others.

Telling the Truth is not only an exposition of the truth of the gospel, it is a celebration of story and of literature. Buechner’s text fully exploits the Bible as literature, recognising and affirming the power of the biblical literature not just as bare truth written down, but as truth powerfully communicated so that it resonates in the mind and heart of the reader. He examines symbolism in the gospel and draws attention to the great themes of the Bible, which are literary themes as well as expressions of truth. He praises the emotional connection that biblical literature provides the reader, discussing its power to evoke truth in a way that ‘can at best be only pointed to by the language of poetry’ (p. 25). And of course, he couches the gospel in the three distinct literary genres of tragedy, comedy, and fairy tale.

Buechner ends Telling the Truth with the earnest invocation that each reader strives to do exactly that. ‘Preach this overwhelming of tragedy by comedy,’ he writes, ‘of darkness by light, of the ordinary by the extraordinary’ (p. 98). It is, he adds, ‘the tale that is too good not to be true.’

Telling the Truth
Frederick Buechner
9/10

I almost cried (and I never cry when I read)

2011-03-10T13:28:00.005+10:00

I just (as in, a minute ago) finished reading When You Reach Me, by Rebecca Stead, and it so amazed me that I had to crack open this neglected blog and tell you all about it.

The story begins simply enough in the voice of the narrator, Miranda. She's an almost-twelve-year-old girl balancing the sort of things that almost twelve-year-old girls juggle in 1978 America: school, growing up, being a daughter, getting to know the man who will soon be your stepfather -- that kind of thing. However, the story swiftly offers a hint that there's going to be more to Miranda's every day life than what initially appears, and the first clue to this mystery is the fact that Miranda isn't simply writing a record of her days; she's writing a record of her days for somebody.

Sometimes I work on it in my head, Miranda writes, trying to map out the story you asked me to tell, about everything that happened this past fall and winter. It's all still there, like a movie I can watch when I want to. Which is never.

In Miranda's characteristic voice -- sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, and always warm -- the reader is pulled into a story which feels in many ways like a gentle coming-of-age tale, but which provides markers and clues throughout that point to another whole story running under the surface. Also: Madeleine L'Engle references!

Gah! It's hard for me to say much more without giving anything away, so I'll just recommend the story to you and leave you to make your own conclusions. When I finished this books, I closed the cover, made a little gasping sound, and wished I'd written it.

When You Reach Me
Rebecca Steadman
9/10

The story behind the story

2010-05-12T20:12:00.002+10:00

In its opening chapter, Louisa May Alcott’s classic Little Women includes a letter from Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy’s father, away serving as chaplain in the Civil War. However, the book has little else to say about Captain March until he returns home following a serious illness. March is Geraldine Brooks’ projection of all that Little Women doesn’t tell us. The first-person narration picks up where the letter in Little Women ends, and the reader begins to see what the March family – privy only to the carefully-edited details of Captain March’s epistle – cannot.

All around March are the horrors and degradations of battle, evidence of every kind of human desperation, passion, and bigotry. The war brings the idealistic March into sharp conflict with himself as current experiences dredge up memories of past victories and regrets. It is through these that the formation of March’s ideals and character are revealed, both to the reader and to March himself.

When March succumbs to a serious illness, a result of injury and deprivation, his wife takes up the narrative before it switches back to March’s perspective for the final chapters. Mrs. March’s distinctly different viewpoint offers some surprising insights into their relationship and shared history, and brings to the narrative a resolution which unites March’s past and present in a series of slightly Dickensian connections.

March remains carefully faithful to the canon created in Little Women. The author makes thoughtful reference to characteristics and concepts hinted at in the original work, ideas like Marmee’s lifelong challenge to manage her unruly temper. And just as Alcott drew on her family life to create Little Women, Brooks also relies heavily on the life of Bronson Alcott to create Captain March. Brooks’ journalistic background shines in the rich biographical material skilfully woven into good fiction. Through the foil of March’s life, the story explores Bronson Alcott’s transcendental philosophies and his friendship with Concord philosophers Thoreau and Emerson. Alcott’s anti-slavery views, controversial in the electric atmosphere of the war, find expression in the fictional March family’s interaction with the abolitionist John Brown and the installation, in their home, of a “station” for the underground railway.

Brooks’ use of historical detail is elegant and unself-conscious; the reader does not register the moments the story slips between fact and fiction. March is more authentic and more open than its wholesome predecessor, and a little riverside tryst between March and his not-yet-wife seems anachronistic with regards to the strong morals of the time. However, the writing is disciplined and measured, using words and phrases consistent with the era, yet honest, precise, and at times eerie. The account of one soldier’s last moments of life, shot and drowning in a river, has the feel of a lavish slow-motion scene accompanied by a soaring, aching musical score.

In spite of the precise language and minute descriptions, March does not lag. Even the flashback chapters, which can have a tendency to slow a narrative down, only push along this story that manages to be compelling without requiring a constant dose of action.

The result is a vivid and sometimes heartbreaking account – a love story, a quest, and a coming-of-age. Geraldine Brooks’ Captain March is less of a hero than the mostly-absent father of Little Women, but he is much more three-dimensional, a man who, throughout the course of his story, grows and changes, discovering who he is and what he believes.

March
Geraldine Brooks
8/10

It's Monday -- so here, have a [book] meme!

2009-10-26T17:48:00.003+10:00

It has been far too long since I flicked open this little pixellated book journal. Therefore, to flex my little book-musing fingers, a meme:

1. Which book has been on your shelves the longest?
The Good News Bible given to me by my aunty Nell when I was just a baby.

2. What is your current read, your last read and the book you'll read next?
(for the sake of simplicity, we'll stick to one of each)
Current read: Love Over Scotland by Alexander McCall Smith
Last read: Sick Heart River by John Buchan
Next read: Breath for the Bones by Luci Shaw

3. What book did everyone like and you hated?
Everything I've ever tried by Jodi Picoult.

4. Which book do you keep telling yourself you'll read, but you probably won't?
Maybe A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?

5. Which book are you saving for "retirement"?
War and Peace.

6. Last page: read it first or wait till the end?
Sometimes I'm guilty. Eep.

7. Acknowledgements: waste of ink and paper or interesting aside?
Sometimes authors are brilliant enough that they can make even acknowledgements sound interesting.

8. Which book character would you switch places with?
Jo March, perhaps -- only without my sister dying.

9. Do you have a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (a person, a place, a time)?
There are too many to consider. Plus, it is on the way to Monday night and therefore my brain is lazy.

10. Name a book you acquired in some interesting way.
Once, a few years back, I was sitting in the pit area at my father's motorbike race meet, reading Stephen Lawhead's Hood. The wife of the man in the opposite pit smiled, but we didn't talk much. The second day of the race meet, however, she returned with a massive bag full of Lawhead books -- all for me! She'd noticed and she wanted to pass her own collection on to someone who would enjoy them. That was pretty incredible.

11. Have you ever given away a book for a special reason to a special person?
Sometimes I love certain books and certain people so much that I feel sure they would go together, and give them to each other.

12. Which book has been with you to the most places?
My Bible. It's not only gone places with me, but it's in my heart, too.

13. Any "required reading" you hated in high school that wasn't so bad ten years later?
I've loved most stuff I've "had" to read.

14. What is the strangest item you've ever found in a book?
An inscription with a web address.

15. Used or brand new?
Both have their own small delights.

16. Stephen King: Literary genius or opiate of the masses?
I'm too chicken to try anything of his.

17. Have you ever seen a movie you liked better than the book?
My Sister's Keeper. Alright. So throw rotten tomatoes at me.

18. Conversely, which book should NEVER have been introduced to celluloid?
Hmm... I'm sure there are many, but none come to mind.

19. Have you ever read a book that's made you hungry, cookbooks being excluded from this question?
Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Oh, the descriptions of starchy, fatty, utterly delicious foods in that book make my mouth water just thinking of them!

20. Who is the person whose book advice you'll always take?
My cousin Elizabeth. I think that out of all my friends, hers is the book taste most similar to my own. We love so many of the same books.

How about you?

Facing unimaginable challenges

2009-07-23T19:33:00.002+10:00

I am frequently disappointed by the low-quality writing of a lot of contemporary Christian fiction. One Christian writer who never fails to surprise and delight, however, is Angela Hunt. I've read almost ten of her books by now and each one has been a treat to digest both as an eager reader and a hopeful writer. The reader part of my brain revels in Hunt's personable, highly-relatable characters and her surprising plot twists. Meanwhile, my writer's side is gaping at the obvious amount of research invested in the story and the clear, concise writing that maintains a lot of internal and external tension, keeping me captivated all the way through.

I finished her 2008 book, The Face, today and loved it. Not loved it in that I was left with a syrupy sweet all's-well-that-ends-well kind of contentment, but loved it in that I was challenged and provoked and captivated. The Face is the story of Sarah Sims, a girl born with severe facial deformities resulting in a lack of facial structure -- no eyes, nose, ears, or a mouth. But there is more to her story than this huge challenge. Her past and the deaths of her family members are buried government secrets, and Sarah grows up sheltered from anything resembling the real world in a remote intelligence agency's safe house. The story is one of intense personal growth and thrilling spy adventure, Alias-style. I'm going to make my sister read this one, right away.

The Face
Angela Hunt
Rating: 9/10

PS. In one of those coincidences which are too interesting to be called such, while I was reading The Face, I stumbled across About Face, a blog providing "a forum of hope and encouragement for those suffering from perceptual disabilities, facial deformities, and cranial birth defects." I've only explored a little, but already I've been challenged by the faith and grace shared in the posts there. I recommend you check it out.

Reading writers writing on writing

2009-06-26T16:55:00.003+10:00

In my picture of an ideal world of words, I would spend equal amounts of time making words and reading words. However, this is an imperfect world and sometimes -- like lately -- there is only opportunity for one of those pursuits. My solution has been to read words about making words, and thereby develop the warm, fuzzy feeling that, although I might not be doing much writing, I am at least learning about it and potentially storing up inspiration for when it should come in handy.

This month, I've completed four books in some way associated with crafting words and making books. I'll share them with you over the next little while.

The first I finished was the famous Elements of Style, by Strunk and White. I'm ashamed that it took a school assignment to actually get me to read this from cover to cover. I'd dipped into it in the past but this time I actually read it right through, discovering as so many others have that this little book is not only incredibly commonsense and practical, but it's also surprisingly readable. Readable and funny.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, the Elements of Style (sometimes simply referred to as 'Strunk & White') is a simple how-to book containing guidelines for clear, concise speech. It began life as the text for an English class by Strunk, who taught -- and inspired -- writer E.B. White (Charlotte's Web, anyone?). In later years, White was asked to revise the work, and did so with grace and humour. The end result is a grammar book that is surprisingly unlike a grammar book in that it is fun to read. I definitely need a copy of my own to keep and refer back to.

Elements of Style
William Strunk, Jnr., and E.B. White
Rating: 9/10

PS. The edition I read was this one, with charming illustrations by Maira Kalman. Delightful!

Oh, and just as a sort of postcript...

2009-05-25T14:08:00.003+10:00

... to my last entry: I feel compelled to add one teensy tiny disclaimer. In her appendix at the end of Get Married, Candice Watters answers questions she's been asked over time. In one of them, a 28-year-old single woman asks, "What's the best way to wait patiently for God's timing for a husband?"

Watters replies:

Based on all I've read and written, I'm convinced that at this stage, learn patience should not be your goal... If you don't have the traits Jesus set forth in Matthew 19 that qualify and equip a believer for lifelong celibacy, then you can be confident His will for you is the same as it is for most believers: get married and have children.

I feel that this is a dangerous precedent to set.

Based on this reasoning, we can assume that just because we don't feel called to do something, then we are free from the responsibility of doing it. I rarely feel a distinct calling to clean the toilet, but I do know that it's God's will that I should be a faithful steward of what I have, I should serve my family, and therefore I should strive to be good at housekeeping.

If we follow the same reasoning to an extreme, a man or woman may exempt themselves from being faithful to a spouse just because they don't feel called to pursue purity of marriage. This is a ridiculous extreme, to be sure, but I use it to emphasise my point that not feeling "called" to singleness doesn't necessarily ensure that you are called to marriage -- and soon. I would also add that I don't know of any woman who feels called to widowhood, yet this is a path God has asked some precious friends to walk down.

Just something to consider.

Get married: not really an order but an exhortation

2009-05-24T15:08:00.003+10:00

It seems to take me forever to read non-fiction these days. Mostly it's because I read in the evenings before switching out my light, and sometimes all I can manage is light fiction. But I do slowly attack the meatier books and always find myself thankful that I've attempted it. There's so much good stuff to learn.

When Get Married, by Candice Watters, first started popping up around the internet and Christian book circles about last year, I was scornful.

The title alone seemed to take all of God's sovereignty out of the concept of meeting someone and instead place the responsibility firmly on the woman alone. That idea scared me. I didn't want to be told that the reason I am single now is because I haven't done enough. The not pretty enough, not smart enough, not outgoing enough, not skinny enough voices are rampant (enough) already.

Also, I'd had enough of women taking the initiative with regards to relationships. The church doesn't need any more of loud feminist agendas, and this new book's bold subtitle, What women can do to help it happen, seemed like the description of a power manual for relationship-savvy girls who want results and want them now.

But the new book became not so new and I found myself in a more comfortable place to finally give the controversial (at least, to me) book a go. It proved to be a case of judging a book not by its cover but by my own preconceptions, and I was delightfully surprised.

What I found in Get Married was a refreshingly unfeministic attitude stemming from a firm grasp of Scripture's complementarian picture of men's and women's roles. Instead of being a how-to manual for scoring the hottest, smartest, wealthiest (oh, and don't forget most godly) guy, Get Married proved to be an encouraging look at Christian marriage and how the postmodern generation has fallen from traditional marriage concepts to embrace independence and freedom -- in spite of the fact that no one seems to be enjoying the results.

Candice Watters' advice is back-to-the-basics, Scriptural stuff. No step-by-step "how to flirt" (I've actually seen this in Christian bookstores) or "interpreting his signals", but simple, healthy discussions on femininity, masculinity, purity, faithfulness, and community. However, those who are looking for help finding a mate won't be disappointed. Watters talks of the value of being part of a Christian community, of placing yourself under the guidance of godly mentors, of evaluating the essential qualities of a marriage partner, of living intentionally with the future goal of marriage in mind, and of defining your relationships to avoid wasted time and foolishly thrown-away pieces of your heart.

Some suggestions offered -- particularly in the chapters 'Living like you're planning to marry' and 'Pray boldly' -- may be taken to extreme and tempt the reader with the idea that she's only single because she hasn't done enough yet to earn or win marriage. This throws away God's grace and suggests He will never give good gifts until we are righteous enough to deserve them. Thankfully, we don't serve that kind of a god. We serve a lavishly-loving, fatherly God who showers us with blessings when we deserve curses, and who pours out good things again and again. A thoughtful reading of this book, along with a balanced idea of God's sovereignty and grace, should avoid that confusion however.

I learnt lots of things from Get Married. I was encouraged in my conviction not to have intimate guy buddies just for the sake of buddydom, and I was convicted of my tendency -- which arose quite possibly in defence of my own singleness -- to think of marriage as inferior to singleness instead of esteeming it as the rich covenant picture the Lord ordained for most of humankind to enjoy.

Get Married: what women can do to help it happen
Candice Watters
Moody Publishers, 2008
Rating: 8/10

Eh, what?

2009-05-01T20:10:00.004+10:00

Today I was feeling not completely well, and not completely awake (owing to a 4.55am rising to drop family at the airport). It was also cold, cloudy, and grey. As a result of all these unique factors, I actually got to spend some time in bed cuddled up under a rug, reading. I haven't done that in a while and it was delightful.

And since it's put me in a bookish mood, let's do a meme (stolen from a friend and then tweaked). I call it the What Book Meme, and as always you are so very invited to chime in with your own answers to any or all of these questions.

1) What author do you own the most books by? Coming in first place: Mary Grant Bruce. I own 26 copies of various books of hers. These are getting harder and harder to find and I love to share them, so when I find a copy -- and if I have the dollars -- I try and pick it up. I've slowed down now, though, you'll be happy to know. Next comes Isabella McDonald Alden, at 23. This suprises me because she's not my favourite author. But again, her books are hard to find and they're very sweet. And in third, it's Laura Ingalls Wilder, because I keep giving her books away or loaning them to people, so I have multiple copies of lots of them. What does this tell you? Firstly, that I collect mostly books by authors with three names, and secondly: I finally understand why I am forever running out of bookshelf space.

2) What book do you own the most copies of? I have five copies of Mary Grant Bruce's A Little Bush Maid. In my defence, I must tell you that each of them is a different printing.

3) What fictional character are you secretly in love with? Alright then. I confess: Daniel, in The Bronze Bow. Also Jim Linton in The Billabong Books. They both seem the epitome of the awesome man.

4) What book have you read the most times in your life? Besides the Bible, I'd say... Little Women.

5) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old? Little Women. After all, that's why I read it so many times.

6) What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year? I didn't finish Francine Rivers' A Voice in the Wind. It was compelling and yet... so wrong. Not recommended.

7) What is the best book you’ve read in the past year? I really, really, really loved The Heaven Tree trilogy by Edith Pargeter. It'd been a long time since I read fiction that made my heart skip a beat.

8) What book would you most like to see made into a movie? I am thrilled beyond words to say that They -- the universal They -- are actually making a movie of a book I have loved for long ages: Rosemary Sutcliff's The Eagle of the Ninth. I hope they do it justice. I really do.

9) What book would you least like to see made into a movie? I really don't like seeing Jesus depicted in movies. He's always portrayed as such a paltry, simpering man. So I guess I'd say I'd rather not see the gospels made into movies.

10) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult? I tried to read Sahara by Clive Cussler and the writing was just really so terribly bad I couldn't finish it. But this question strikes me as rather a nasty one.

11) What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read? Difficult mentally or difficult emotionally? I will have to think long and hard about this one.

12) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you’ve seen? Er.... I've never seen a Shakespeare play. I'm so terribly uncultured.

13) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading? I have never read Thomas Hardy and I can't for the life of me seem to like G.A. Henty even though historical fiction lovers say he's wondrous.

14) What is your favorite novel? That question is too entirely unfair and I refuse to answer it.

Now I have a "what" question for you: What book are you going to enjoy this weekend?

Blink, and maybe you should miss it.

2009-04-28T17:43:00.003+10:00

In a world composed entirely of kittens and rainbows, my first actual book review post wouldn't be of a book I didn't particularly like.

However, I set out to document my reading, and document I will -- the good, the bad, and the ugly (well, maybe not so much the ugly).

Ted Dekker's Blink of an Eye seems to have all the right ingredients: an international chase, a beautiful woman in danger, an intriguing genius surfer with charmingly scruffy blonde hair (apparently some people do have it all), and the painful challenge of melding east with west.

Miriam, a beautiful Muslim princess, is on the run to escape an arranged marriage with a cruel and evil man. The marriage is entirely a political move, an attempt for one man to gain power through the bloodline. Seth lives in a completely different world -- a world where a cute guy with an IQ of over 180 can blow people's minds but still finds nothing exciting enough to make life interesting.

Of course, their stories collide -- just as Seth begins to see stuff before it actually happens. Prophet, psychic, or just really, really gifted? The book never explicitly answers that question, choosing to leave it in the realm of the artistic ambiguous but hinting that what Seth experiences may be a form of miracle.

Which is funny, considering that Seth doesn't even believe in God when the story begins. In fact, at one point he explains that his strange psychic gift is proof that there is no God. After all, if God is who He says He is, He must be sovereign. And if God is sovereign, He must know the future. And if God knows the future, then there must only be one future. And if there is only one future, then how come Seth can see ten or twenty or a hundred possible futures that will change depending on whatever action he chooses to take?

His reasoning makes sense, and, though Seth eventually comes around to maybe acknowledging that there must be a higher power somewhere, he never again addresses his seemingly flawless no-God logic. This is a confusing enough issue for any author to leave unresolved, but from a Christian author who seems to be trying to get a point across, it's even stranger.

In fact, the point of the story is something I failed to see. I understand that some books have no point but to tell a story and tell it well. However, if you are going to write a book that proclaims a Christian message, perhaps it's best not to couch it in obscurity. Then again, is Dekker actually trying to proclaim a Christian message, or simply a message of tolerance? Miriam, a Muslim, and Seth, a kid from Christian USA, believe they can create a future together and that all they need is love. After all, love changes everything, says Dekker in his afterword.

For me, this isn't enough of a premise for a Christian book. A thrilling chase with an American hero and a Muslim damsel in distress may make for an interesting story, but if there is to be a message about God woven in through it all, at least it ought to make sense.

The only love that truly changes everything is God's love. Otherwise, it's pointless.

Blink of an Eye
Ted Dekker
Thomas Nelson, 2007
Rating: 5/10

Some brilliant genius came up with this one:

2009-04-24T16:49:00.002+10:00

Last night I discovered What Should I Read Next?, which is super.

Basically, you type in the name of a recent book (and its author) that you've enjoyed, and then dozens of carefully trained, minute cybermen run through the internet gathering the information from others who have read the same book. Sort of.

Basically, the database pulls recommendations from others who have read and enjoyed the same book as you, perusing their reading lists and offering you a sample of other books you might enjoy. I'm not sure how relevant the recommendations will be (someone who likes Pooh Bear might also like true crime, which may or may not appeal to the next lover of Pooh), but it's worth a look.

What Should I Read Next?

Oh, and your awesome comment discussions have been making me so happy I started this blog. Talking books is fun.

Confessions of a flagrant skimmer:

2009-04-23T20:46:00.003+10:00

I have to say that I absolutely loved reading all your comments on the book meme last post. Why is it that talking about books is almost as much fun as actually reading them? Perhaps that will remain one of the great mysteries of life.

Anyway, Asea and Erin -- being the savvy and astute persons they are -- both noticed there was no question seven. I have not a shred of an idea as to where number seven went, but it is gone, well and truly. In its place, Asea asked the following question:

Does your physical environment influence the type of book you'll get in the mood for? For example, if I'm backpacking by myself in the forest, I will tend toward analytical philosophy. If I am on a bus, I want a page-turner. If I am sitting in bed in my pajamas, a deeply thoughtful novel.

To that question, I offer a resounding yes. I'm not brave enough to go backpacking by myself in the forest, but if I'm taking a trip to a place far removed from my regular world, I take deeply thoughtful books when I know I will have the mind-space for their ideas to really sink in. Bus-riding definitely requires a page-turner, as you said. And -- dare I confess it? -- toilet breaks require books that can be read and picked up in two-minute intervals. Erm.

She also asked:

Do you ever skim books or parts of books? I do. I feel guilty EVERY time, too. But sometimes the author is describing a house or something for three or four pages and I just don't care. Or a character is giving a 13-page speech to tell us exactly what the point of the book was. Urgh. Sometimes I must skim.

Again, I say YES. I love words, but I love words used concisely. I want every word to advance the story, not slow up the pace and try to distract me in non-essentials. This shameful act of skimming may occur in books that otherwise deserve to be read more respectfully. Then again, there are some books that also don't deserve the benefit of a devoted word-for-word reading. My friend Anastasia the other day used the term 'skim-worthy' and I think that's awesome. Some books require skimming and not too much attention.

(Then again, sometimes I skim because I just want to see what happens, and I don't want to have to go through five or fifteen or fifty pages to find out. This is undisciplined and I always feel like I am doing the author -- who likely laboured, sweating and in agony, over the very words I am skimming -- a cruel disservice.)

Therefore, I don't recommend skimming wholesale, but I am guilty of it myself.

How about you?

In which me and you talk reading habits:

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1. Do you snack while you read? If so, favourite reading snack?
If reading is a Thing (with a capital letter) that I am setting aside special Time (also with a capital) for, then snacking is a delightful way to make something fun even... funner. But if I'm reading just in a spare moment here or there (which is mostly) then I don't always snack. Normally it's the other way around: I need to stop for a snack, so I will grab a book for company. Today I read and sipped a banana smoothie.

2. Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you?
I say writing in books is super! Having said that, however, I confess I tend only to write or mark non-fiction. Somehow non-fiction seems to be more of an experience to be entered into alongside the writer, whereas fiction seems to stand alone as its own complete little world and I don't want my markings to intrude on that. With non-fiction, I want to remember how I was moved or challenged or inspired. With fiction, I want to forget all of that and remember or learn it anew when I re-read.

3. How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book flat open?
I confess: I am a book-abuser. However, I am also -- shamefully -- a respecter of book persons. If the book is new or special (or borrowed from someone else), I make myself find a bookmark. If it's already worn and torn, dog ears or laying the book spreadeagled on a desk is fine by me.

4. Fiction, non-fiction, or both?
I don't believe that one can cancel out the other. Must they be exclusive? They are two separate art forms in and of themselves. Non-fiction teaches me about life and love and faith -- and so does good fiction. But both provide that education in their own unique ways, and I love that. I definitely read more fiction than non-fiction, and that's what I'd love most to write, too -- but one can rub up against another's world much more easily than changing one's own, and I think that's the reason fiction tends to be more readable than non-fiction.

5. Hardcopy or audiobooks?
I don't really call audiobooks reading, you know. Sorry.

6. Are you a person who tends to read to the end of chapters, or are you able to put a book down at any point?
Definitely an end-of-chapter person. It hurts me to stop partway through, even if I'm not enjoying the book.

8. What are you currently reading?
Always too many at once:

The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket
Mere Christianity by CS Lewis
Secret Scribbled Notebooks by Joanne Horniman
Desiring God by John Piper
She by Rebecca St. James and Lynda Hunter Bjorklund
Blink of an Eye by Ted Dekker
Get Married by Candice Watters, and
Dear Writer by Carmel Bird

I'll let you know what I as I'm done with each of them.

9. What is the last book you bought?
I just ordered The History of Christianity by Jonathan Hill. Textbook; does that count?

10. Are you the type of person that only reads one book at a time or can read more than one at a time?
I think my answer to question nine covers this one, too. The longer explanation is that I ought to read one book at a time (or even just one fiction and one non-fiction at once), but I simply don't. It's a lack of discipline more than anything. And sometimes, at night, when I'm in my bed and winding down, I just want a certain sort of book and I have to find the right one, whether I'm currently reading half a dozen others or not.

11. Do you like re-reading books?
I used to re-read a lot more than I do now. Nowadays, I go to beloved favourites and hunt down my favourite chapters and passages for re-reading on their own. This is an especially lovely, comforting, homey thing to do when you are sick.

You know I'd like to see your answers, right?

Wherein I make a start:

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So. I have bitten the bullet and blithely begun a book blog.

Herein, expressed in awesome alliteration, riveting reviews, and grandiose gush, you can expect to find the book-loving parts of my life -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- chronicled.

Welcome.