My Christmas Book Addiction



They fill a whole bookcase!

Signs that Christmas is coming to our house:

1. Decorations adorning every available surface.
2. Christmas music heard from stereo speakers, piano keys, and children's mouths (and mom's!)
3. Christmas movies whenever we want to watch them.
4. Festive lights twinking outside our windows.
5. And my favourite of all: hundreds of Christmas books brought out of boxes, ready to be read in a cozy chair after school, snuggled into bed at bedtime, or any time we feel like it!

A few of my favourites.

Yes, here is where I make my confession to the world (although all of my closest friends already know), I suffer from a serious Christmas book addiction. It started as a collection, but it got a bit out of hand. We have so many Christmas books that we cannot possibly read them all every holiday season. But I love them! I love to look at them. I love to hold them. I love to read them. And most of all, I love to share them with my kids. And now that I'm not teaching (and therefore not running a Scholastic Book Club — yeah, that was my downfall, all those reward coupons!) I have decreased my influx of Christmas books to only one or two a year. And this year I haven't even bought one yet! Isn't that a sign that I'm breaking free of the addiction? (Unless you count that Barbie's Perfect Christmas book that Janelle bought at the book fair, which you really can't count because #1 Janelle bought it, and #2 it does not meet the standard of my Christmas book collection.) There literally are hundreds. I haven't even gotten them all out this year. I'm sure there is a box missing, but I'm not putting much energy into finding it because I think we can live without those books until next year. I think we have enough to keep us reading until 2012. We have our favourites, old classics and new stories that must be read every year. The kids are happy. I'm happy. The Christmas season has begun.

I'm thankful for Christmas books.

Bedtime

The wind is howling outside the window, and rain is beating its steady rhythm against the glass. I just left my daughter's cozy bed after reading two chapters of Vacation Under the Volcano, our latest "Magic Tree House" book. Connor is getting his pajamas on, and soon I'll climb up into his loft bed and read a chapter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. There is something wonderful about bedtime reading with my kids.

I love this time of day, especially when Chris is home and the kids are tucked in bed and it's time for us to have "us time". Tonight, Chris is working late. He'll be working late for most of this week, so we met him for supper out between piano and Kids Night Out so we could still manage some family time. But I'm still planning on enjoying every minute of my "after bedtime" time. I'll dim the lights and settle in on the couch, the fire crackling in the fireplace. I'll probably tune in to the finale of Dancing With the Stars, and then I'll crack open a new book. Peace. Quiet. Serenity. The best time of the day.

I'm thankful for good books I can read with my kids, and for the fact that they still want me to read with them. I'm thankful that Chris got the fireplace in good working order on the weekend. I'm thankful that although a storm is raging outside my window, my children and I are safe in our cozy home. I'm thankful for bedtime.

Reading Frustration

Have I ever mentioned that I love to read? Mmmm... Yep, anyone who knows me understands that about me, sometimes from the first time we meet. And one of my favourite things to do is to stretch out in a warm bubble bath with a good book. I've been feeling under the weather all week, so last night after both kids were tucked cozy in bed, I decided to retreat to my bathroom with the latest novel on my book club list.

It's a good one. The Birth House by Ami McKay is just the book I've been waiting for. It captured my imagination from page one, and I can't wait to discuss it with my book club. I love that it is set in the Maritimes, although not in a place I can remember visiting. But still, the familiar tones of Maritime life are there. I settled into my tub and immersed myself in the pages, and let all the demands (grocery shopping while sick) and stresses (parent-teacher interviews) of the week float away.

Until I reached page 135. Correction: until I did not reach page 135, because page 135 did not exist in the copy of the book I own. Or page 136 for that matter! At first I didn't believe it — How could this book just be mysteriously missing a page? How is that possible?  So frustrating! So unfair! And of course, as I read on I realized something rather significant took place on those two pages. Or at least I am left to assume that it did. Grrrrrr!!! My peaceful oasis was interupted and ruined. I got right out of the bath so I could go complain about it to my husband (who, of course, did not recognize the importance of my complaint — "Oh, two pages are missing? Huh! Isn't that funny?" Grrrrr!) I went to my computer to see if I could find anyone else's complaint about two missing pages in The Birth House. I only found one passing comment in a review.

I'm assuming this was only a problem in the one printing of this book, which I purchased at Walmart in Fredericton at least two years ago. So today, a P.D. day for the kids, we are off to the book store, so I can find a copy of The Birth House and read pages 135 and 136.

By the way, I am truly thankful for this book, since I've been craving a book for a while that I could just get lost in, and it fits the bill. I'm also thankful for my book club, which is the reason I finally picked it up off my bookshelf to read. I would highly recommend it to anyone, with one warning! Before you buy it, turn to page 135 and make sure it is there! Then go settle into a warm bath and enjoy.

Counting Blessings

I'm such a fiction junkie that I actually made a commitment a few months ago to read a chapter of some form of non-fiction each day before I allow myself to become immersed in a story. There were several reasons for this challenge to myself: to get into something edifying to myself, to plow through some of those parenting books sitting unread on my bookcase, to make my brain work a little bit! Last month I finished a parenting book, so this month I decided to read something just for me, a book that I've been wanting to get into for quite a while now.

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp is truly a beautiful book. I've found myself lost in the pages and forgetting all about the novel waiting to be opened! The author weaves words like a poet. She tells her story and her message in such a way that I am not surprised this farmer's wife from rural Ontario has found herself on the New York Times bestseller list! She speaks about gratitude in a new way — suggesting that until we have named the gifts God has given us, we have not truly accepted them. Her challenge, the one she accepted herself long ago and offers to all of her readers, is to create our own lists. Lists of things that we love. Lists of things that bring us joy. Gratitude lists.

I'm starting my list today. Here. I won't always share my list for all to see, but from time to time I'll add a few items, just to focus my mind and my heart. Even when it is hard to think of something. Especially when it's hard to think of something! Here goes...

1. Freshly painted walls dappled with sunlight.
2. Cousins laughing together at play.
3. Joyful and long-awaited news from a friend.
4. A cozy blanket on a frosty morning.

Anyone care to join me?

Summer Reading

This is a post I've been planning for quite a while, but just haven't made myself sit down and write. It's my summer reading list. To me, reading is one of the best parts of summer: sitting on a deck chair with a cool drink and a good book, listening to the wind in the trees and feeling the cool breeze, all the better if it happens to be near a lake, river or ocean. Heaven!!! But what I'm reading is always an important part of that picture, so it is important that I choose just the right book. I have quite a long list this year.

I'm leaving for New Brunswick next week, and this year I'm determined to only take my Kobo. Last year, I think I needed to take an extra suitcase for all the books I carted along with me. Not again. Oh, yes, I do have plenty of books lining my shelves that I plan to read, but there are certainly more than enough on my Kobo to keep me occupied for a few weeks in NB. Here's my planned ebook list, order yet to be determined:

Left Neglected by Lisa Genova    I loved her first novel, Still Alice, which I read for book club last year, so as soon as this one came out I downloaded it. But have I managed to read it yet? Nope. Definitely one for vacation.

Learning by Karen Kingsbury    I'm a Karen Kingsbury addict. Even though I swear each time I read another one of her books that they become more and more predictable, and that I'm getting tired of reading about the same people now that she is on the 207th Baxter Family book (perhaps a slight exaggeration), I can't help myself. It's kind of like the way company can begin to get on your nerves before the end of a visit — You still can't wait to see them the next time! (Anyone reading this who has come to stay with me before, I'm of course NOT talking about you!) The book came out June 21, and I downloaded it that day. I can't wait to see if Bailey and Cody are finally going to get together! (As if there is any doubt... I know... I'm an addict, I tell you...)

The Best Laid Plans by Terry Fallis    I'm told by very reliable sources that this work of Canadian political fiction is absolutely hilarious, and a definite "must read". I planned to read it in Mexico, but never got to it, so it has moved down the list to the NB vacation. I'm really looking forward to this one.

Ape House by Sara Gruen    I read Water for Elephants a couple of months ago, wanting to read it before the movie came out. I still haven't seen the movie, but that's okay — It's never as good as the book. And the book was very good. I really enjoyed it. And I like that the author has a connection to London, so I thought I'd try this one. May not get to it before I head back to Ontario, though.

I also have Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult, 90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper, and The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley on my Kobo waiting to be read. Plus one hundred classics that came preloaded on the device. I don't have to worry about running out of things to read on vacation.

At the beginning of August I'll be back in London, and back to my loaded bookcases. And my library card. Today I took two books back to the library unread, resigned to the fact that I won't have time to finish them before I leave for NB. They were The Centurian's Wife by T. Davis Bunn and Janette Oke and The Mermaid's Chair by Sue Monk Kidd. They'll have to wait, but they'll still be there when I get back. If I have time for them. This is the stack of books I have waiting at home:

I know — There's NO WAY I'll read all of these before September!

To Kill a Mockingbird is for my book club, and I may not even be home for the meeting, but since it was my suggestion, I feel like I should read it. I suggested it because I haven't read it since high school, when it didn't mean nearly as much to me as I'm sure it would now, and after our club read The Help, I really wanted to go back and read something authentically from that time.

The rest are books that have been highly recommended to me, by one book lover or another, which is how I usually formulate my reading list. I'm really looking forward to reading all of them, and I'm determined to get to each and every one before Christmas. Some of them will get read in the summer, though. I would ask for further suggestions, but as you can see, I really don't need any. Unless, of course, anyone sees any glaring omissions... No, those can wait until next year. Meanwhile, which one should I start with? There's where I need help!

Kobo versus the Good Old-Fashioned Book

I got a Kobo for Christmas. For those of you who may not know, it is an electronic reader that comes loaded with 100 books and that I can add books to for a fraction of the price of buying paper ones at the bookstore. I can also borrow ebooks from the library to read on it. Some say this is the "wave of the future" in books, and it may be true. I'm getting on board, but still not 100% sure I'm convinced.

It was a complete surprise. I had never asked for one because I just wasn't sure whether or not an e-reader was for me. Chris was tentative about buying it for me (I think his primary reason was not wanting to build more bookcases!), and before I opened the package he warned be that I would need to be honest about whether or not I liked it. When I did open it, I was actually surprised by how excited I got over it. I think it was the opportunity to really investigate how I feel about ebooks that got me excited. I mean, I'm the kind of person that walks into a bookstore just to take a deep breath. I love the smell of books. I love the feel of books. I love the experience of books. But now I would have a chance to discover exactly what it is that I love the most about that experience.

As I said, the Kobo came loaded with 100 books, primarily classics, that I am thrilled to have at my fingertips. I read a chapter or two of Anne of Green Gables (my favourite) and Little Women (which I am ashamed to say I've never read). But I decided for my first ebook read I would choose something easy and fun, something I knew wouldn't take long and would provide some mindless entertainment. I picked Sophie Kinsella's Mini Shopaholic. I had picked it up at bookstores and Costco before, but since it is still in hardcover it is a bit too pricey for me. The $9.99 ebook price seduced me! I started it in the car and at rest stops on the way home from NB, and I really flew through it, considering I'm not a particularly quick reader. When I finished I realized I really only had one complaint: I couldn't read it in the bathtub!

Yes, of course, I still love the smell of a book. But I honestly didn't miss it while I was reading my ebook. I enjoyed it every bit as much as I've enjoyed all the other Shopaholic books. And the fact is, I don't have to choose. I will always have paper books to read. I have so many good old-fashioned books that I haven't read that I know I'll still be primarily reading paper books for a while. However, the tiny environmentalist in me, the one who reprimands my husband about putting plastic in the trash and remembers to always take my reusable bags shopping, that earth conscious girl knows that if even half the hard core readers in this world bought an e-reader and stopped buying books, newpapers and magazines made of paper we would save a lot of trees. So I'll keep reading paper books. But I am determined not to buy another paper book if it is available as an ebook. And most books are available as ebooks now. I've only found a few that aren't.

I'm sure I'll find other things about the Kobo that frustrate me. Remembering to keep it charged might be a challenge. I will have to be careful not to leave it lying around on the beach. And I will always have to keep a paperback on hand for the bathtub ;). But I think I can live with those minor details. And as for the smell and the feel of a book? Well, Chris told me about a comment he read while researching ebooks before he bought mine. He had read a comment from someone who talked about how important the smell and feel of paper is to the experience of reading a book, and an author responded to the comment by saying something like "I understand what you're saying, but as a book lover I hope you'll acknowledge that the most important component of the experience of reading a book is the actual written word." Can't argue with that.

Too Many Books, Too Little Time!

I love reading. Have I mentioned this? Only one, two hundred times? I love really good books. I love getting to know the characters, feeling a part of an exciting story, falling under the spell of words that a really great author can cast. A couple of weeks ago I finished reading Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, a book that had been on my reading list for years, and I finally took the time to read it for my book club. At nearly 1000 pages it was like a mountain to me that I was determined to climb. I'm not a fast reader, but I am a voracious reader. When I find a book that I love, I can't get enough of it. This was one of those books. I spent as much of my time reading it as I could, and when I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it. It was like a rich tapestry, one that only a really gifted author could weave. I couldn't wait to get through it, but when I did, I was so sad. I missed the characters, I missed the atmosphere, I missed the feeling I had reading it. So I started a new book.

My friends, Julie and Denise (my NaBloPoMo buddy), and I are meeting in Toronto this month for a girls weekend together. The catalyst for this planned getaway was the Tony award winning Broadway show Wicked, which is playing in Toronto for just a few weeks. We made our plans last spring and got tickets the week they went on sale. We've all heard wonderful things about this play, which is about the life of the Wicked Witch of the West, basically a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. Julie had read the book by Gregory Maguire and suggested that Denise and I read it before we see the play, so I picked it up a couple of months ago, but just got a chance to fit it into my reading list last week. When I finished Pillars, I decided to dive into Wicked. I was looking forward to it. I love The Wizard of Oz, and I usually love fairy tale type stories, so I expected this to be right up my alley. Julie warned me, however, that this was not going to be an easy read. One of the ladies in my book club had told me that her father, who loves the play and has seen it multiple times, hated the book. They were both right. After 50 pages, I still wasn't drawn into the story, I didn't care about the characters. Not a good sign. After 100 pages I was getting frustrated. I still didn't feel any connection to the story. After 200 pages, despite tremendous feelings of guilt, I decided to quit.

My dear friend and fellow book-lover, Joy and I have always had a saying: "Too many books, too little time". It is so true! There are a million books out there that I want to read — I don't have time to waste on books I'm not enjoying! I'm not in university anymore, where I had to read three or four books a week that were someone else's choice. Now I get to choose, and there is really nothing compelling me to continue a book that I am not enjoying. I decided a few months ago, after finishing a book that left me feeling like I had just wasted a great chunk of my time, that from now on I am not going to read books that I don't like. Not even for my book club. I'll give them a try — I think 200 pages is a really good try! — but if after even 50 pages there is nothing there to make me want to keep reading, I'm closing the book and moving on. I even told my kids about this decision last week — to which Connor responded that he had given up on a book at school that very day! I'm not sure he quite got the message I was trying to convey. Oh, well, he knows a good book when he reads it. He still loves reading Harry Potter with me!

Despite this revelatory decision, I still feel guilty about giving up on Wicked. I think the problem is that I'm not quite sure how to articulate exactly what it was that I didn't like about the book. And in the back of my mind I do think I'll come back to it after I see the play. I'm just not good at being a quitter! At least not where books are concerned.

But I have moved on. I started reading The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill, which my book club read last year before I was a part of it, and which has been on my shelf waiting to be read for over a year. It had been highly recommended by a number of friends, and I decided that it was time I found out what all the fuss is about. I've read about 60 pages, and I am enraptured. It is wonderful! I already love everything about it. The voice of the narrator is just endearing, and I already find myself carried away on her journey. So quitting Wicked was worth it. I don't feel like going back at all.

At least not for a couple of weeks...

A Sad True Story

I just finished reading a short biography of Lucy Maud Montgomery, written by Jane Urquhart, as part of the "Extraordinary Canadians" series. When I turned the final page I was heartbroken. This woman who possessed such an amazing imagination and talent as to be able to create such fascinating characters and stories was miserable most of her life. She spent her childhood as an orphan starved for love. Her professional career was overtaken by law suits against her publisher (which, after many agonizing years, she won in the end). She married a mentally ill man whom she did not love, and gave birth to two sons whose adolescent and young adult behaviour provided her with nothing but heartache. How did someone whose life was characterized by such misery invent the luminescent Anne Shirley? How did she dream up all her happy endings, when they consistently eluded her in her own life?

As an 11-year-old girl living in PEI, I considered myself quite an authority on all things Anne Shirley. I read all the books in a span of a couple of years. I lived for visits to Cavendish, where I could visit her home and play in her "Rainbow Valley". When Anne cried, I cried. When she rejoiced, I rejoiced. When I was lonely, she became my kindred spirit. In all the hundreds (thousands?) of books I've read, I can't think of a character whom I've loved more than Anne. To this day, there has never been a theatre production that I have loved more than "Anne of Green Gables: The Musical". I could watch it a thousand times! I can't wait until the day when I take my own children to see it. I watched the premier of the "Anne of Green Gables Miniseries" in awe, loving every minute. And I picked out all the "editorial changes" in the sequels, and declared them "not really Anne stories". I knew Anne thoroughly. But it seems I did not know Maud at all.

As an avid fan and amateur writer, I think I've always believed that Montgomery's crowning achievement was to write a book, to create a character, who is so loved around the world that people flock by the thousands to see "Avonlea" every year. And such success must lead to endless happiness, right? Not true. I'm sure that Maud rejoiced when she held in her hands each precious published work, but they did not make up for what was lacking in her personal life. Anne must be a part of Maud, to a certain extent, but she must have been the very happiest part of her. I think Anne was the hope in Maud. Anne and Emily and Sarah and Pat and Kilmeny and all her other much loved characters. It would seem that she left us with the very best part of her life. And I am grateful.

And I'm adding all the L. M. Montgomery books that I haven't read to my reading list for this fall. So I can learn a little bit more about the very best parts of my favourite author.

Especially for the "BM Girls" — You Know Who You Are!

Two days ago I penned a weepy missive about my wonderful friends, and I feel in danger of doing it again, but I will try and stop myself. I've been thinking a lot the past couple of days about a particular group of girls back home. I was so blessed to be part of a ladies Bible study group that was just amazing. Now I know that sounds like a bunch of women with their hair tied up in buns and noses stuck in the air, but only if you've never been part of a group like this. Over the past 5 or 6 years we went through a number of studies written by Beth Moore, a brilliantly talented and hilariously funny author and teacher, and we all felt just like she was a member of our group. At some point we started calling ourselves, for lack of creativity, "the BM girls". What a sad name! Each year we would start a new study and we'd have a full house on the first night. Then as the weeks passed and the homework piled up our numbers would dwindle. There is quite an elite group of ladies who actually made it all the way through one full study (10 weeks that we would cover in 20), and even fewer who made it through all of them. I hate to brag, but I did finish all of them! Those of us who did journey through an entire study together developed a real closeness to each other. If you have travelled through any of Beth's studies with me, please know that I feel a special affinity toward you. God has used you in my life, and we share something that a lot of people just don't get. My husband certainly doesn't! If I had missed a week and was watching the video at home when he walked in he'd say "Listening to that woman yelling at you again, are you?" Ha! She doesn't yell -- She just gets excited!

This week my friend Jocelyn took me to the local Christian bookstore. It was my first visit, a long one, and I left far too much money there. (Oops, I forgot that my dear husband reads this blog. Oh, well, how could I help it? At least it isn't conveniently located in our corner of the city!) I noticed Beth's latest book on the bestseller shelves, 20% off! Could I really be expected to leave it there? Especially when I read the title.

Three years ago, around the same time that Chris first mentioned that a move may be in the works, the BM girls and I started studying The Patriarchs. I was determined to stay put, but God's steady message to the patriarchs was "Go". The next year, when I had started to think I was safe in my bubble in Fredericton, we began to study A Woman's Heart, God's Dwelling Place, and as I dug deeper into the tabernacle I began to feel my heart prepared for a change. And last year, the week we put the house on the market, the ladies and I opened Esther, and talked about how it's tough being a woman, but learned God gives us strength for everything He asks of us. After all that, why should I have been surprised, here in this new city where I feel so small and insignificant and invisible, to read the title of Beth's lastest book, So Long Insecurity? Did she write it especially for me? I've read the first two chapters, and she claims it was written for all women, since most of us struggle with issues of insecurity. But it might as well have my name splashed across the front cover.

After I read the first chapter, I decided to go on Beth's website to see if she had any study materials to go along with the book. I found her blog, and Tuesday's entry brought me right back to my BM girls! It was all about laughing with friends. If there is anything that my girls and I have done together, besides praying together, it is laughing together! We have laughed until our sides split over so many things! And I can't wait to do it again. Keep your calendars clear, girls, because there will be lunch dates and cheesecakes nights coming up that you won't want to miss!

So, BM Girls, I'm diving into this one without you. But I'll be taking you along with me at the turn of every page. Unless, of course, you'd like to join me...

Thoughts about another Maritimer

I'm trying to get my house rearranged and ready for my parents' visit (they are on their way now!), but I wanted to finish a book for my (possible) book club that is meeting tomorrow night — even though I won't be there because my parents will be arriving. These are the comments that I sent as my contribution to the discussion:

Just finished the Anne Murray autobiography, All of Me, and I thought I'd send you a comment or two to take with you to the book club meeting. I actually enjoyed the book more than I expected to, probably because I'm a Maritimer and I enjoyed all the connections I could make with the story. For example, Athena Regional High School, where Anne taught in Summerside, later became Athena Consolidated School, which I attended from grade 5 to grade 8. It was interesting to be able to picture the place she was talking about. Similarly, her tales of UNB in Fredericton were very familiar to me. I found the early years stuff really interesting since it reminded me of things my parents often talked about during my childhood. I heard countless stories of the Springhill mine disasters growing up, and I enjoyed reading her first hand account. Later on, I found it was a little heavy on the name dropping, but I guess that is to be expected in the bio of an entertainer. I didn't think a lot of the stories she included needed to be there, but I guess she was trying to fill out the skeleton of her story with various items that we wouldn't necessarily have expected. Overall, I am glad I read it, if only to recommend it to my mom, who is from the same era and grew up just an hour or so from Springhill in Moncton, NB. In general, I'm not a big fan of bios for book club discussion, but perhaps that is a generalization I shouldn't make. In particular, I think this biography really doesn't lend itself well to book club discussion, because it really is a very simple "This is my life" story. There's really not a whole of depth to explore as a group.

That's my writing for today. Back to work! There's much to do!

In Defense of Robert Munsch

I am a bit of a book addict. I am happy to admit it; I think there are far worse things I could be. One of the more serious aspects of the addiction is the need to fill my house, nearly every corner of it, with children's books. I think it stems from the statement made by a literacy professor back when I was doing my B.Ed., that "You must begin building your children's book library now. Add to it everything you can get your hands on." I'm afraid I may have taken her literally. Oh, well, at least now I actually have children to read my hundreds of children's books to.

One of my favourite authors is Robert Munsch. I began collecting his work long before I had children of my own, and I am happy to say that we have just about every one of his books. I even saw him in concert once in Saint John, and would LOVE to take my children to see him again, especially now that we live about an hour away from him. He is a tremendously talented storyteller. His books are funny and smart and tender, and often very silly. My kids love them. I think all kids love them! The Paper Bag Princess might as well be considered a literary classic! I love the way the princess rescues the prince, realizes he is a jerk, tells him off and skips happily off into the sunset. It is such a fresh take on the fairy tale, and it really very empowering to little girls.

My husband called me yesterday and told me about a news item he heard on CBC about Robert Munsch admitting to struggling with alcohol and cocaine addictions, related to suffering from bipolar disorder. I was so saddened to hear that a man who has brought such joy to children (and parents, I might add) has battled with his own demons for so long. This morning I read a story in the National Post that reported that most parents are sympathetic to Mr. Munsch and will continue to support him, but did reference one dissenting voice, an influential mother who refuses to read his stories to her children anymore, and encourages other parents to do the same.

I'll admit, I have been guilty of sitting in judgement of public figures who make bad choices. I was angry with Brad when he left Jennifer for Angelina. I did plenty of ranting about Jon and Kate and their childish behaviour. I've had nothing good to say about Tiger. I'm sure I've commented on countless other stars who've been in and out of rehab. But the fact is, Tiger is still a great golfer. Brad still makes pretty good movies. (I'm not sure why Jon and Kate are still a global fascination, but oh well...) And The Paper Bag Princess is still a great story. I would happily read it to my children today, and I will surely run out and buy the next book Mr. Munsch publishes so we can enjoy it together. His addictions do not affect the quality of the books he has written, and they don't need to enter my children's sphere of reference, either. People who write children's books are just people, and I'm sure many of the best authors have skeletons in their closets. I don't need to know what they are, and neither do my kids. All we care about is being entertained, and enjoying some snuggle time with really good books.

The fact is, people who have suffered from addictions of all kinds, or who've just made stupid choices, don't need us to judge them. They need us to continue to support them as they try to do better. Robert Munsch has been alcohol and drug free for four months. I pray he continues to claim victory over his addictions. And since I don't feel the need to do battle with my addiction, I can't wait for his next book to come out. Maybe he could come read it in London. He's welcome to stay at my house!

Twilight Fascination

I watched "New Moon" last night. I had avoided it for a long time. I hesitate to even write anything about it, because I know the passion it evokes in so many die-hard fans. My fascination with the whole "Twilight" phenomenon is not with the books or movies themselves, but with the way it has invaded our culture as a whole. How did something that one suburban mom literally dreamed up become something with which millions of people, 10-year-olds to 60-year-olds, have become so obsessed?

I read all four books last year. They were recommended to me by a dear friend who just happens to be one of  millions of "Twilight" obsessed moms. I was sceptical. I have never been even mildly interested in reading a "vampire novel", or in watching a "vampire movie", for that matter. But my friend persisted, insisting that I would love these books and I just had to read them. So, with much hesitation, I dove into the Twilight world. I have to admit, for the most part, I enjoyed reading them. They were page-turners, very easy to read, and full of adventure and heart-rending emotion. But the whole time I was reading them, I wondered if I was missing something. When I finished the books I was happy to put them away and move on. They really didn't impact my life in any way. I have absolutely no desire to read another vampire novel. And I really don't plan to read these books again, although I know many people who read them all over and over and over and over.

When I saw the first movie, Twilight, I recognized that this was not a well-made movie. I was intrigued by it because it brought characters I knew in the book to life, but I was really underwhelmed, considering all the hype. I felt like it was clearly aimed at teens and young adults. When I watched it a second time with my husband (I know, why did I watch it a second time?) I realized how truly bad it was. Chris, the true movie critic, couldn't sit through it. He hated everything about it: the setting, the music, the dialogue, the acting! He doesn't often say he hates a movie, but this time he did. I agreed. Bad movie. Very sad.

That's why I didn't rush out to theatres in November to see New Moon. That's why when Chris went away a few weeks ago and I rented some chick movies to watch while he was gone, I didn't even rent it. But yesterday I realized that Eclipse is coming out the end of June. And of the four books, Eclipse was my favourite. I don't even remember why now. I don't particularly remember what happens in the book. But I know I read a 600 page book in about 3 days, and that is odd for me. So I thought, hmmmm, I might want to see Eclipse. Different director. Maybe an improvement. And maybe I should see New Moon first. So last night while Chris was working/watching the basketball game, I watched New Moon. And you know, it wasn't half bad. I enjoyed it much more than Twilight. I'm not going to ask Chris to watch it with me again, but I did enjoy it the one time. And I do kind of look forward to seeing the next movie. Maybe even at the movie theatre (alone, and wearing dark glasses so no one will recognize me -- in this city where no one knows me!)

But at the end of this somewhat enjoyable movie I was still baffled by something. I completely understand what appeals to teenagers about the whole Twilight Saga. I think 25 years ago I probably would have been a little gaga over it, maybe even had a few posters on my wall (but not of Edward — I am 100% Team Jacob). I get why teenage girls are identifying with Bella: the awkward new kid who doesn't quite fit in, filled with angst and caught in the trap of excitement and pain that is first love. And as a teacher I appreciate the fact that these books have kids reading, and enjoying reading (although I think that the fact that there are so many younger kids, tweens, obsessed with them is a little disturbing, and perhaps even dangerous). But what about the women my age? What about the millions of moms who can't get enough, who read the books and watch the movies endless times, who wear the t-shirts and host Twilight parties for their friends? What is the fascination with Edward, the cold, pale vampire (especially over Jacob, the warm-hearted, warm-bodied werewolf)? I know, Edward does have a certain sophistication that is appealing, but who wants to cuddle up to cold stone? Is that really where middle-aged (ugh) fantasies have taken us?

In my quest to understand this phenomenon last night, after watching the movie, I actually found some interviews on the web, with some Twilight moms. And they did help me to understand a bit. Getting lost in Twilight is allowing women to recapture a little bit of that long ago romance of first love. Brings back the excitement of those teenage first kisses, that electric atmosphere of a new flirtation. Looking back at my early relationships, I am so glad I don't ever have to go back there again, but I do see why living it vicariously through Bella might be appealling. Still, there are so many other ways, so many other great books, and even movies, that can surround us with those feelings, stir up those passions. So I remain a bit mystified. If you'd like to help me out here, please share. I'm lost.

Several months ago, my friend Denise, who is a much more qualified literary critic than I, wrote an excellent post that articulates much of what I have been feeling about Twilight. She didn't actually read all four books, feeling that after two she had gotten the best of what Twilight had to offer. Although the New Moon movie satisfied me more than the first one did, the book was the most difficult to get lost in. The third book, while long, was a quick and easy read, as was the fourth. However, the plot of the fourth, Breaking Dawn, became so ridiculous (I remember putting the book down several times, not sure that I could go on) that I think I may have finished it quickly just to get it finished! In the end, I'm glad I read them, because I can intelligently discuss something that has become such a pervasive aspect of our culture. Most importantly, as a teacher, I will know what young girls are reading, and I can advise parents to seriously consider encouraging their daughters to wait until high school to wander off into the Twilight. Really, does it need to happen any sooner than that?

Pure Gold

Only time for a short post this afternoon. I spent the morning on a field trip with Connor; a very cool fire safety/bicycle safety demonstration at the YMCA Children's Safety Village. Connor loved it, and I loved being there to watch him loving it. Unfortunately, safety demos always remind me of all the awful things that could happen, so I try not to dwell on them too much. Hopefully enough to keep my kids and our home safe, but not enough to live in fear.

When I got home I went back to my lovely little scrapbooking nook and made a few greeting cards, before I need to take my table down to make way for my new office area. I had a wonderful time scrapbooking yesterday, but I finished what I need to do, and now my house needs some attention. Of course, I didn't get right to housework when I finished. Instead I picked up the book I started weeks ago, which I love, and read just a few paragraphs before I found one that was so beautiful I just had to record here.

"I simply loved him as if he were my one and only lover, and he loved me too with the same simplicity of appetite and desire which made me wonder what I thought I had been doing all those years when I had been dealing in the false coin of vanity and lust. I had not known then that all along there had been this other currency of pure gold."

Phillipa Gregory, The Other Boleyn Girl

It just seemed so eloquent and true that I had to write it down. It describes perfectly what we feel when we find what we didn't know we were looking for. I could apply it to all sorts of situations: finding Mr. Right, first time motherhood, experiencing God for the first time. So often we think we have the real thing, when what we are really dealing with is counterfeit. Pure gold. The whole idea fills me with profound gratitude for the life that I have been blessed to have.

Time to Get Lost

For the first time since I started Chris's challenge, I really don't feel like writing today. Maybe it's because it's a beautiful day and I'd rather get out for a walk. Maybe it's because I know I have a pile of forgotten mail to go through, so I can find out which bills I'm unintentionally ignoring. Perhaps it's because I know that I need to get to the store today to get ready to play "Easter Bunny" on the weekend. Or it could be because of my strong desire to get back to those last few unopened boxes (Ha -- no one said the blog couldn't be funny!)

All good reasons. But not the right ones.

I love books. Anyone who knows me knows this. One of my very favourite things in life is to curl up in a corner and get lost in a good book. For the past two months I haven't had time. Sure, I've done some reading before I fall asleep at night, or even a couple of times in my new jacuzzi. I even finished a book the other day. But I haven't had the "I love this book so much I can't put it down, and I am going to just sit here and do nothing but read for a couple of hours" experience. Since we've moved here, I haven't let myself have that experience. There is WAY too much to do to settle in with a book, and I didn't want Chris or the kids to come home and say "So what exactly did you do today anyway?"

Writing, however, is allowed. Because of the challenge. I feel obligated to add to this blog daily, no matter how much time it steals from other worthy tasks. So I have poured myself into it. But not today. Today, the blog gets 10 minutes. That's it.

Why? Because I started a new book yesterday, and I think it's one I could get lost in. So I will do all the things that I mentioned above, that really need to be done today. But for the next 45 minutes I am heading back in time several hundred years. I'll set a timer to make sure I find my way back to the 21st century.

But meanwhile, don't call. They didn't have phones back then, so I won't answer.