Bookavore

voracious reader with a certain verbal attitude

19 notes &

Oh and while we’re talking about fantasy books that blow your mind can we talk about how much I fucking LOVED Clariel, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Seriously, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I’d recommend re-reading the Abhorsen series before reading this, too, but honestly, if you’re not already re-reading the Abhorsen series on the regular, I’m not quite sure you can understand my excitement about how good this book was ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Oh and while we’re talking about fantasy books that blow your mind can we talk about how much I fucking LOVED Clariel, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Seriously, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I’d recommend re-reading the Abhorsen series before reading this, too, but honestly, if you’re not already re-reading the Abhorsen series on the regular, I’m not quite sure you can understand my excitement about how good this book was ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Filed under books garth nix abhorsen series clariel

90 notes &

libraryreads:

Hot off the press, the Library Reads August 2014 list! 

We’ve got the first in a new series from library fav Chelsea Cain. Lev Grossman wraps up the adventures of Magician’s trilogy. A BEA Buzz book: The Miniaturist

New books from staff and patron favorites Amy Bloom, Liane Moriarty, John Scalzi, and Thirty Umrigar. Everyone’s favorite mother and son writing team bring us latest historical mystery in An Unwilling Accomplice

And a little something, something for the romance readers from Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Katie MacAlister.  

Happy reading!

I keep meaning to blog about The Magician’s Land, so I will take this opportunity to say that I loved it—very satisfying ending to the trilogy—but I really wish I had re-read the first two before diving into it. So if you’re waiting for it, take this opportunity to re-read The Magicians and The Magician King to immerse yourself properly.

I remain impressed by what Grossman managed to do with these books: be utterly skeptical about magic and its importance while maintaining a childlike adoration of it. I always get such a rush reading these books, because the combination allows me to re-visit my first experiences of Philip Pullman, Susan Cooper, Garth Nix, et al., in a way that most other fantasy books do not. That headlong and greedy reading experience, those books that are so good you forget to change positions and your arm falls asleep—I always feel that Grossman misses it as much as I do, and it’s a treat to read a book that reflects being that affected by fantasy writing, and even manages the same trick a few times.

Filed under books libraryreads lev grossman magicians trilogy the magician's land

39 notes &

It has been a real pleasure re-reading The Beekeeper’s Apprentice by Laurie R. King, a book that I always forget I how much love until I am reading it. I am glad it’s gotten a nice tidy Twentieth Anniversary Edition, because though I recently became the last person on tumblr to watch Sherlock and liked it quite a bit, this series is my favorite version of the Holmes re-tellings.
That being said, I know it is anathema to request textual changes when publishing an anniversary edition, but I really wish they had done so here. Why? Well, because one of the first cases on which Mary Russell assists Sherlock Holmes, she helps rescue a young kidnapped girl named Jessica. JESSICA SIMPSON. Oh dear. It’s so distracting! I know that in 1994 our modern Jessica Simpson was still singing in church camp or something. I certainly don’t mean to blame King for not predicting the course of pop music. But I don’t think it would have been such a problem to do a search and replace and have kidnapped a young Victoria Simpson, for example. Nothing would have been lost except the opportunity to imagine a young Jessica Simpson trapped in a tree in period garb, mumbling to herself about whether she had chicken or tuna for dinner.
Anyway, if you can overlook that, and you’ve not read this series, take this opportunity to get started, especially since apparently we will be waiting another year for more Sherlock. A mystery for non-mystery readers, equally good for teens and adults, and, I bet, to be adored by fans of Flavia de Luce. 

It has been a real pleasure re-reading The Beekeeper’s Apprentice by Laurie R. King, a book that I always forget I how much love until I am reading it. I am glad it’s gotten a nice tidy Twentieth Anniversary Edition, because though I recently became the last person on tumblr to watch Sherlock and liked it quite a bit, this series is my favorite version of the Holmes re-tellings.

That being said, I know it is anathema to request textual changes when publishing an anniversary edition, but I really wish they had done so here. Why? Well, because one of the first cases on which Mary Russell assists Sherlock Holmes, she helps rescue a young kidnapped girl named Jessica. JESSICA SIMPSON. Oh dear. It’s so distracting! I know that in 1994 our modern Jessica Simpson was still singing in church camp or something. I certainly don’t mean to blame King for not predicting the course of pop music. But I don’t think it would have been such a problem to do a search and replace and have kidnapped a young Victoria Simpson, for example. Nothing would have been lost except the opportunity to imagine a young Jessica Simpson trapped in a tree in period garb, mumbling to herself about whether she had chicken or tuna for dinner.

Anyway, if you can overlook that, and you’ve not read this series, take this opportunity to get started, especially since apparently we will be waiting another year for more SherlockA mystery for non-mystery readers, equally good for teens and adults, and, I bet, to be adored by fans of Flavia de Luce. 

Filed under books the beekeeper's apprentice laurie r. king sherlock holmes jessica simpson mysteries flavia de luce

38 notes &

When Jenn tells me a book is possibly her “favorite book of all time. seriously. FAVORITE,” I read it, quick. It took me 48 hours from her declaration to acquire and read Books & Islands in Ojibwe Country by Louise Erdrich, and of course Jenn is largely right. I love Erdrich, and this book is fantastic. For fans of Erdrich, it offers an insight that’s not found in her other books (think the personal nature of Shadow Tag, but without the darkness and pain of that book). For those who haven’t read her yet, it’s a fantastic extended essay, and an American memoir of real substance.
What I loved best about it is the overarching question, which Jenn also notes: “Books. Why?” She offers a number of specific answers throughout the book:
"Because our brains hurt."
"I can take home along anywhere in the person of a book, and I do."
"Because they are wealth, sobriety, and hope."
Meandering off to explore the geography and history of Ojibwe Country, her family, the language of Ojibwemowin, the resurgence of traditional belief, her internal life—Erdrich always returns to this idea. Books. Why? This loose focus is meditative, calming, and radical. So much of the subtext of our conversations about books these days contains this same question, but in anger. Why does this person get to write books? Why do people read those books? Why would you like that book? Why does anybody review books? Why don’t more people read? Books. Why?
Erdrich’s book doesn’t answer these questions, deflating them, and for me, exposing the fear underneath. Instead, she drives at the deeper whys of books. Because we need them, because they’re there for us, because they endure. Because your friend will make you read one and it will feel like your souls are sharing a small room together, happily. Just because.
Books. Why? Because.

When Jenn tells me a book is possibly her “favorite book of all time. seriously. FAVORITE,” I read it, quick. It took me 48 hours from her declaration to acquire and read Books & Islands in Ojibwe Country by Louise Erdrich, and of course Jenn is largely right. I love Erdrich, and this book is fantastic. For fans of Erdrich, it offers an insight that’s not found in her other books (think the personal nature of Shadow Tag, but without the darkness and pain of that book). For those who haven’t read her yet, it’s a fantastic extended essay, and an American memoir of real substance.

What I loved best about it is the overarching question, which Jenn also notes: “Books. Why?” She offers a number of specific answers throughout the book:

  • "Because our brains hurt."
  • "I can take home along anywhere in the person of a book, and I do."
  • "Because they are wealth, sobriety, and hope."

Meandering off to explore the geography and history of Ojibwe Country, her family, the language of Ojibwemowin, the resurgence of traditional belief, her internal life—Erdrich always returns to this idea. Books. Why? This loose focus is meditative, calming, and radical. So much of the subtext of our conversations about books these days contains this same question, but in anger. Why does this person get to write books? Why do people read those books? Why would you like that book? Why does anybody review books? Why don’t more people read? Books. Why?

Erdrich’s book doesn’t answer these questions, deflating them, and for me, exposing the fear underneath. Instead, she drives at the deeper whys of books. Because we need them, because they’re there for us, because they endure. Because your friend will make you read one and it will feel like your souls are sharing a small room together, happily. Just because.

Books. Why? Because.

Filed under books lousie erdrich books & islands in ojibwe country memoirs

274 notes &

TODAY I am a writer, but I also see myself as something of a landscape artist. I paint pictures of scenes for inner-city youth that are familiar, and I people the scenes with brothers and aunts and friends they all have met.

Walter Dean Myers, “Where are the People of Color in Children’s Books?” Worth rereading. (via nationalbook)

Incredible man. RIP, Walter Dean Myers.