tuesday topics: nine. games you love to play

July 17, 2017

one. asshole. so i'm not one for drinking games, but this one, also called president, is pretty cool. the first person to get rid of his or her cards is the president, the next is vice president, and the last is the asshole, who for the duration of the next round has to do everything everybody else says. i'm almost always the asshole.

two. heads up. i'd only learned of this game when we were in colorado last month. my sister-in-law introduced me to it. it's pretty fun, minus the holding a phone to your face bit.

three. hearts. all or nothing. my kind of game.

four. phase ten. this card game takes a LONG time to play, which is probably why i love it. that, and i usually win. :]

five. pokeno. a friend introduced me to this one a few months ago. SO much fun. it's kind of like bingo. my friends pair it with a white elephant gift exchange. good times.

six. scrabble. i hardly ever lose at this. also my kind of game.

seven. sequence. a game that combines cards and a board? count me in.

eight. spades. i learned of this game as a child at my great uncle's monastery. the folks would put us down for bed, and then my grandmother and her sons and daughters would gather round a table and she'd kick all their asses. it sounded like so much fun. they'd never let us play. and of course, by the time i was old enough, they'd grown tired of it. LOVE this game, though.

nine. splendor. this one's my favorite. i SUCK at this game, yall, but i never get tired of playing it.

what are your favorites? share them with me!

the difference a decade makes

July 12, 2017

let's ignore the giant bag at my hip, yeah, and focus on the smallness of my waist and the prettiness of my hair (that's after flying overnight, yall. it looks pretty good for no sleep on a cramped plane) and the thinness of my arms.

let's consider that i thought i was fat then.

let's pray that i can find the stamina and self-love to reclaim some semblance of that because my gut is bigger than my boobs, now, and my hair... GAH.

show us your books

July 11, 2017

one. the princess bride. so i've seen this movie dozens of times. my sister-in-law and brother's children had not. we watched it. and after having seen it, my nephew's interest was (temporarily) piqued, so i bought the book. i'd never read it. because while i like the movie quite a bit, i'd never felt a pull to read the book. and i'm glad i decided to do so. the beginning is stupid shit. the ending is even worse. BUT the author did a damned fine job of converting his novel to the screen. because while reading it (on the two-day trek home from colorado, so... the best time to be reading, really), i was replaying the film in my mind, and the words were rolling right along with it. the only differences are that you get inigo and fezzik's backstory in the book, you learn a little more about buttercup's history, and you get to see more of the nightmare sequences she has about marrying humperdinck. there are a couple of others, but ultimately, it's the story on steroids, really. i dug it. but since the beginning and the end are so deplorable... four out of five.

two. belle. so this is a spin on beauty and the beast. belle has two sisters, and they are gorgeous. stunning. beautiful with a capital b. she thinks her name is all wrong for her, because she's beautiful with a lower case b. so there's a completely different family history with this one, a ginormously different family dynamic, which i liked. the beast part of the story leaves MUCH to be desired. the author spends half the book investigating that family dynamic, which i didn't mind. but she should've spent twice as much time on the beastly part of the story, because it feels rushed and redonkulus. two.

three. splintered. so this is a spin on alice's adventures in wonderland. i've never cared for that particular tale, so i wasn't sure i was going to enjoy this book (i chose it because it suited one of the categories for erin's book challenge). but i liked it well enough. it's a really interesting take on the story, and i very much appreciated the author's vision for it. i liked the characters. i liked how she organized the conflicts. this was much better than i anticipated. that said, i don't know that i liked it well enough to read others in this series. four.

four. caraval. this one! i LOVED this one. not because it's so fantastically written (because it's not). but because i love how chock full of conflict it is, how that conflict is resolved. how inventive it is. mostly because i like scarlett, and i love julian. i listened to this one on audible and have every intention of snagging a copy of this for my library. good stuff. it's engaging and entertaining. five. 

ones i've started: furiously happy by jenny lawson, the book thief by markus zusak and gone with the wind by margaret mitchell.

tally: seventy-three.

check out what jana and steph have read.


why i wanted to read it: because the cover appealed to me, the letters at the beginning intrigued me, and the story sounded like it might be cool. and for erin's book challenge, it meets the published in 'seventeen category. but mostly it's because i dig the title.

what i liked: scarlett's feelings came in colors even brighter than usual. the urgent red of burning coals. the eager green of new grass buds. the frenzied yellow of a flapping bird's feathers (page 12).

"lovely seeing you, scarlett." julian smiled, as cool and seductive as a slice of shade in the hot season.

scarlett knew the polite response would be something along the lines of "good to see you, too." but all she could think about were his hands, still coiled around tella's periwinkle skirts, playing with the tassels on her bustle, as if she were a parcel he couldn't wait to unwrap.

julian had only been on the isle of trisda about a month. when he'd swaggered off his ship, tall and handsome, with golden-brown skin, he'd drawn almost every woman's eye. even scarlett's head had turned briefly, but she'd known better than to look any longer (page 13).

"i think you've forgotten how to live, and your sister is trying to remind you," julian went on. "but if all you want is safety, i'll take you back" (page 49).

inside the house, violin music, richer than the darkest chocolate, started playing. it seeped outside and whispered to scarlett as julian's smile turned seductive, all shameless curves and immoral promises. an invitation to places that proper young ladies didn't think about, let alone visit. scarlett didn't want to imagine what sorts of things this smile had convinced other girls to do (page 87).

scarlett broke off as a man in cheap velveteen pants and a brown bowler hat kicked a piece of stained glass. something glittery and red sparkled beneath it.

"no! you can't take those." scarlett lunged toward the man, but the moment he saw her interest, his own ignited into something stronger. he snatched the precious earrings from the floor and bolted to the door. 

she ran after him, but he was quick and her arms were burdened. she was only halfway down the hall when he made it to the rickety stairs.

"here, let me hold those." the pregnant girl was beside her in the hall. "i'll be right here when you get back," she promised. 

scarlett didn't want to let go of what she'd gathered, but she really couldn't lose those earrings. dropping her things in the girl's open arms, scarlett clutched the bottom of her snowy skirt and tried to catch up with the man... outside, the world was nightfall and daybreak all at once... the man had disappeared.

it shouldn't have mattered. they were only earrings. but they weren't only earrings. they were scarlets.

scarlet stones for scarlett, her mother had said. a final present before she had left... they were a piece of her mother, and a reminder that governor dragna had once been a different man (pages 126-127).

what sucked: sometimes the writing's really cheesy. it aims for sweet and strives to be chock full of imagery and to further the sense of wonder the story has, but sometimes it's more syrupy and saccharine than sweet.

having said that: i dig the story. it's fantastical and clever and complex... made me think a little bit of the theatrics and exploits of logan and his friends in gilmore girls. i like scarlett and julian a lot. so much so that i'll read this again. the ending's pretty badass, though maybe there's some predictability to it. it's four hundred pages, and usually i cringe when authors take that long to tell a story, but i didn't mind it here. i'd like more of this, please.


why i wanted to read it: because one of the categories for erin's book challenge is a novel with an animal on the cover. this one's got bugs and butterflies on it. also at a writer's conference last year, i met a woman who, if memory serves, had something to do with the cover design and liked her.

it's important to note that the book is a spin of alice's adventures in wonderland, and i've never liked that story. so i was not as eager to read this as i have been for other selections.

what i liked: he jerks his gaze back to the dashboard. "if you hadn't been ignoring my calls, i could've already taken a look at your engine. you shouldn't drive this until it's fixed."

"gizmo's fine. just a little hoarse. maybe he needs to gargle some salt water."

"this isn't a joke. what are you going to do if you get stalled out in the middle of nowhere?"

i twirl a strand of hair around my finger. "hmm. show some cleavage to a passing trucker?"

jeb's jaw clenches. "that's not funny."

i giggle. "oh, come on. i'm kidding. all it would really take is a little leg."

his lips curve slightly, but the smile is gone in a blink. "this from the girl who's never even had a first kiss."

he's always teased that i'm a mix between skate glam and american sweetheart. looks like i've just been downgraded to prude. 

i groan. it won't do any good to deny it. "fine. i would call someone on my cell and wait safely in my car with all the doors locked and mace in hand until help arrived. there, do i get a cookie?" (pages 24-25).

"how adorable," i mock. "taelor gave you lip jewelry... and it's sparkly."

he nudges the piercing with his tongue. "she's trying to be diplomatic."

anger rises in a white-hot surge as i remember london and all the things taelor said to me. "of course she is. because she's eight kinds of wonderful, and that's just her legs."

jeb furrows his brow. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"taelor has all the diplomacy of a black widow spider. garnet's her birthstone. you're wearing her birthday on your lip. talk about spinning you up in her web." ... i turn around, but he follows me into the entryway. rounding on him before he can cross into the living room, i fold my arms over my bustier, trying to subdue the urge to punch him. "you can't come in without an invitation."

he leans a shoulder against alison's framed photo of a wheat field at harvest. "that so?" his boot heel nudges the door behind him, shutting out the storm and the scent of rain. "last i checked, i wasn't a vampire," he says, his voice low. 

my fists clench tighter, and i step backward onto the line of carpet that borders the edge of the living room. "you sure have a lot in common with one."

"because i suck?"  (pages 77-79).

perched on my hands and knees at the hole's edge, i have a moment of doubt. i weigh a lot more than a piece of plastic and some batteries. maybe i should push in a few heavy rocks, just to be sure.


the shout from behind me makes me scramble. dirt gives way beneath my hands. screaming, i clutch at empty air and tumble in. 

inside, the hole widens. more like a feather on a breeze than a skydiver, i float, my position shifting from vertical to horizontal. my stomach quivers, trying to adjust to weightlessness.

overhead, someone dives in after me.

in seconds, he latches onto my wrist and tugs to align our bodies.

it's impossible...


his arms lock us together, his gaze intent on the slowly passing scenery. "sweet mother of--"

"stuff and nonsense," i interrupt with a quote from the original wonderland book. "how are you here?"

"where is here?" he asks, mesmerized by our surroundings... after a few minutes, jeb eases us an arm's length apart and stars at me -- into me.

"how?" i whisper, still unable to grasp that he's here.

he pales, shaking his head. "i... i slipped on the porch in the rain. that has to be it. yeah, that's why i'm wet. i'm dreaming this now. but..." he presses our foreheads together and i make a mental note of every other place our bodies touch. his hands glide up my rib cage before stopping on either side of my face. "you feel real," he whispers, his hot breath mingling with mine. every point of contact between us heats to white flame. "and you're so pretty."

okay, that's proof he's delusional and in shock. first off, he's never said anything like that to me. second, my makeup has to look like soggy newspapers by now (pages 93-94).

"find your courage. look down. your show is about to begin."

i shake my head, eyes clamped tightly. "we're too high... it makes my stomach kick."

he laughs and inhales a puff off the hookah then blows the smoke over me, saturating me in the comforting scent. "that's how you know you're alive, alyssa. the kicks" (page 174).

what sucked: shit like this: jeb cradles me tighter, which makes it hard not to notice how close we are: my hands locked around his neck, his chest rubbing against my ribs... those biceps pressed to my shoulder blade and knee (page 13). so when a guy's carrying a gal, using phrases like this to describe the closeness and the chemistry has the opposite effect. i cringe. like seriously? his chest rubbing my ribs? those biceps pressed to my shoulder blade and knee? that's supposed to make me swoon? GAH.

and the ending -- not the climax but the crap that comes after -- is lame. really, really lame. utterly redonkulus.

having said that: it's clever and engaging, even when the writing's shit. and i liked its story MUCH more than i liked alice's adventures in wonderland. i like alyssa and jeb and morpheus. i don't like them or the story well enough to read any of the others.

tuesday topics: ten. dream cars

one. 1967 bmw 2000 cs.
two. austin healey.
three. 1965 porsche 356sc.
four. toyota fj cruiser.
five. 1962 shelby cobra.
six. aston martin vantage.
seven. 1973 ford bronco.
eight. volkswagen bus.
nine. 1969 mini cooper.
ten. range rover.

what ten cars do you dig the most?


July 7, 2017

why i wanted to read it: because for this round of erin's book challenge, we were supposed to select a book based on or inspired a disney flick. i'd seen this one before. i picked it because it was two hundred four pages, i liked the rose on the cover, and i thought i would like this version of beauty and the beast. 

what i liked: "everything is beautiful in its own way, ma belle, even if you have to look hard to find it" (page 35).

"i think it's because my name is wrong. it doesn't match my face. i shouldn't be called belle because i'm not beautiful... that's why monsieur legrand couldn't see me. he looked for a face to go with theirs, a beautiful face. only i don't have one. you can ask maman if you don't believe me. she knows it's true. i saw it in her eyes."

my father looked as though i'd taken the piece of wood i'd been carving and knocked him over the head with it.

"why, belle," he murmured. "belle."

"but that's just the problem, don't you understand?" i cried out. "i'm not beautiful. my name is nothing but a lie... couldn't i be annabelle?" i asked. "i think, maybe...maybe if people weren't expecting to see a beauty in the first place, it might be easier when it turns out i'm not." 

my father was silent for several moments more, just long enough that i had to resist squirming within the circle of his arms.

"annabelle is a fine name," he said at last. "it was my mother's name and i chose it for you myself. but i'm not so sure that changing what you're called will accomplish what you want it to, my little one... anyone with the right eyes and heart to match will see your beauty, belle. if not at first, then for the long run... i think you have a gift, belle... i would like it if you could believe that true beauty springs from the same place" (page 41-45).

unhappy memories are persistent. they're specific, and it's the details that refuse to leave us alone. though a happy memory may stay with you just as long as one that makes you miserable, what you remember softens over time. what you recall is simply that you were happy, not necessarily the individual moments that brought about your joy.

but the memory of something painful does just the opposite. it retains its original shape, all bony fingers and pointy elbows. every time it returns, you get a quick poke in the eye or jab in the stomach... i'd like to say what happened that first afternoon with grand-pere alphonse, the pity i had heard in my mother's voice even as she held me in her arms, came to make no difference in our relationship. but that would be a lie... for every time my mother spoke my name, every time she looked at me, i felt her pity all over again... 

the more distance i put between my sisters and me, the less painful the comparisons between us seemed to be. eventually what people remembered most about me was that they didn't really remember me at all.

celeste and april could always be found at the center of gatherings. their faces were easy to call to mind. but the youngest delaurier girl, the one named belle, her image was much harder to summon, in spite of all her name might promise.

finally, i just stayed home.

i expected maman to protest, but she did not. if i'd needed any more proof that my mother thought i was not as beautiful as her older daughters, she provided it then...

but even the best of compromises unravels sooner or later, and so it proved with mine. for i'd failed to consider the very thing that growing up means: passage of time... 

the de la montaignes' garden party was an annual event, a highlight of the summer.

"i didn't have to go last year," i protested. "how come i have to go now?"

 "because you're almost sixteen... almost old enough to be married... your sisters are certainly old enough to be."

so that's it, i thought. she was hoping for a match between celeste and paul de la montaigne...

"paul de la montaigne is the most suitable young man in our circle. everybody knows it. and celeste is certainly one of the loveliest young women..."

her voice trailed off, as there was little more to be said on the subject. she bit into her toast.

"so what do you want me along for?" i asked, when i was certain my mother's mouth was full. "contrast?" (pages 47-51).

"the silence of that house spoke with the same voice that the windstorm had, with one fierce and endless cry against being alone" (page 117).

the beast took three more steps. two more, and he would be close enough to touch.

"so you are real," he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. "i have not imagined you. you are real. you have come. i see a dark gray dress on my horse's back, strong hands on the reins, and your hair..."

he paused, and i had the sense he was studying me intently. "your hair curls and it is brown. but your face..." his voice faltered and broke off. "your face eludes me," he continued after a moment. "your features slip in and out of focus, like a star at the end of a telescope."

"i am not a star," i said, a sudden ache in my throat. "i'm just a girl named annabelle."

"annabelle," he echoed, and i seemed to feel the strange power of his voice in every part of me. as if it were seeking the way to make me visible. "but i thought that you'd said... belle?"

"belle is my nickname," i answered. "it's what i've always been called. i think that may be your problem -- with my face, i mean. it makes you think you're supposed to look for beauty."

"and i can't find what isn't there?" the beast said. "is that your point?" (page 145).

"i'm here. i've come back. where are you?" i shouted. and it seemed my heart would break that i had never asked him for his name. i, who had been so very concerned about my own (page 196).

what sucked: the first thirty pages. the last ten. and the last were significantly shittier, aka unbearably cheesy, than the first.

having said that: save for what's mentioned here, i didn't love it. save for those forty sucky pages, i didn't loathe it. but because one-fifth of it is shit, i can't recommend it. it's not the worst book i've ever read. it's an interesting version of the tale. but it could've been told. SO. MUCH. BETTER.

tuesday topics: the next batch

July 6, 2017

eight. characters you loathe.
seven. places you'd most like to visit.
six. best country songs.
five. things you love about your state.
four. favorite chocolate recipes.
three. casting mistakes in films.
two. ways to get out of a funk.
one. worst vacation.

tuesday topics posts resume july eleventh. i hope you'll play along.

What's New With You

linking up with kristen and gretchen.

my mount rushmore

July 2, 2017

so my friend at the view from the third floor has been doing an ongoing contest since the beginning of the year. i'm pretty sure i'm losing, but that's okay. for round seven, we were asked to create our own mount rushmores, tributes to those americans who have not served as presidents whom we feel are worthy of the recognition. i was quick to google stupid shit like best americans and had a look at lists like this one because i thought for sure the four i would pick should be ones of whom others could approve... otherwise how could they be the best? but then i cleared that crazy notion and realized i wanted to make a list of the four people who have best influenced my life, the ones who have saved me, who have been like a patronus when too many dementors have circled much too closely. i'm sure i've mentioned them before, but i can't mention them enough. i can't. they are my rocks.

one. pauline elliott. sixth grade language arts teacher at what was then o.a. reaves intermediate. she was not the most well-liked teacher by the students mostly because of her size, sense of style and simplicity. my peers made fun of her. but then my peers made fun of everything, everyone because that's what sixth-graders do. i remember underestimating her, making assumptions that she would be like every other teacher i'd had for the past few years. she was a light, which is what teachers should be; i'd not seen one shine upon me in quite some time. i've mentioned her in this post and this one. the other day, i thought i've failed her because i've not used my talents anywhere near as well as i should. it's not a sentiment that sits well with me. i hope i can do better by her, and others listed here, and soon.

two. carol newsom. counselor at york junior high school. i was in high school, i think, when i met her. her husband worked in the administration building with my father. my parents, terrified for my well-being (they were right to be so... and it shames me greatly to say that), had already sent me to a couple of counselors without success because i didn't want to talk. i played games, literally and figuratively. my psyche had been plagued, by this point, for six years. there was far too much to discuss, and the words were as ugly to me as i thought i was, as the majority of the world thought me to be. the high school i attended was across the street. i remember that i would walk over after school and meet with her. i'm sure i played games with her, too. i'm sure i didn't say much that was worth saying. i'm sure i would've been much better off now had i cared more for the compassion she'd shown me then. i loved her for her kind nature and the warmth she bestowed upon me. not many were gracious enough then to show me such consideration. i knew that she loved me. i clung to that knowledge.

three. brother nicholas. born clarence prinster. monk at abbey of our lady of the holy trinity in huntsville, utah. i've not known a man to have more faith and devotion, more goodness in his soul than this one. he is my maternal grandmother's brother, the last alive of eight siblings. he's been more a grandfather figure to me than a great uncle. he has always thought the world of me. i'm grateful that the last time we were at the monastery -- a year ago -- i had a moment to sit with him and look out over the fields and beyond to the mountains. i wish i could remember what he said, but i know that it was good, that it had something to do with my history and how i've endured. not many can beat me at scrabble, but he could and soundly.

four. amanda holloway. more commonly called minn. neighbor and friend. she was always so happy to see me, and knowing that made me feel good. she was patient with me when others couldn't be, willing to listen when i needed to vent, quick to share her faith and friendship. she had a smile that seemed bigger than her face. i miss it. i miss her.

if one only remembers to turn on the light

June 28, 2017

book challenge by erin

five points: freebie – read a book that is at least two hundred pages. refuge for masterminds by kathleen baldwin.
ten points: read a book that starts with the letter b. the beginning of everything by robyn schneider.
ten points: read a book that has a yellow cover. the help by kathryn stockett.
fifteen points: read a book that has an animal on the cover. splintered by a.g. howard.
twenty points: read a book that was published this year. caraval by stephanie garber.
twenty points: read a book with a compass or cardinal direction in the title. north of happy by adi alsaid.
twenty-five points: read a book from this list of the most commonly banned books in america. gone with the wind by margaret mitchell. 
thirty points: read a fictional book about mental illness. all the bright places by jennifer niven.
thirty points: read a book with a non-human main character. the book thief by markus zusak.
thirty-five points: read a book tied to disney movie. belle by cameron dokey.

add it to my list

June 27, 2017

so i know we're a third of the way through summer already, and many of yall have your travel plans firmly cemented or have already concluded them, as i have done. we spent a week in colorado, and it was gorgeous but hot. i'm glad to be home, but i miss the mountains already.

the past couple of times i've participated in this linkup, i've recommended books, movies and music. since picky's been heavy on the book posts lately (yall can thank erin for that), i thought i'd share photos of some of my favorite travel destinations, beginning with the one i'd most like yall to see...

abbey of our lady of the holy trinity - huntsville, utah
the abbey where my great uncle resides will close in september, and the near two thousand acres which i've always thought of as heaven could fall prey to developers. please, if you can, go see it before it loses its majesty. 

en route to the abbey, crossing over mount green - northwestern utah 

pacific park - santa monica, california

the fountains at chatham parkway - savannah, georgia

coligny beach - hilton head, south carolina

charleston, south carolina

woodfin valley - blue ridge mountains, north carolina

basilica i temple expiatori de la sagrada familia - barcelona, spain
antonio gaudi designed this church. construction began one hundred thirty-five years ago and is expected to be completed nine years from now, one hundred years after gaudi's death.

carcassonne, france

notre-dame de paris - paris, france

notre-dame de reims - reims, france
joan of arc met with a king and coronations took place here. also marc chagall designed the windows, and they are glorious. 

schloss neuschwanstein - hohenschwangau, bavaria, germany

neues rathaus - munich, germany

konzentrationslager dachau - dachau, bavaria, germany

the view from a hike to hay's bluff - hay-on-wye, wales
there's also a castle filled with books in hay. yall should probably see that, too.

other recommendations: the churchill war rooms in london and the vincent van gogh museum in amsterdam. i must insist on the audio tours for both. they are wonderful.

where should i go next? what are some of your favorite places?

check out lists by lauren and bre!

also... tuesday topics will resume july eleventh. what kinds of things would yall like to talk about?

the princess bride

June 26, 2017

why i wanted to read it: because my sister-in-law, niece and nephew had not seen the movie. we watched it while in colorado. when i'd mentioned to my nephew that it was based on a book and asked if he wanted to read it, he said yes, so i bought it. curious to know how it differed from the film, i read it. the boy's interest in the story, of course, has vacillated since having purchased it. i suggested on a number of occasions that we could read some of it, and he balked every time. my niece said today that she wanted to read it. they're eight. i'm sure they'll change their minds again. whatever.

what i liked: "if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches" (page 63). (yes, it's corny as shit, but i'm a romantic. i liked the analogy. shut it.)

or worse, what if he got to america and worked his jobs and built their farm and made their bed and sent for her and when she got there he would look at her and say,"i'm sending you back, the moping has destroyed your eyes, the self-pity has taken your skin; you're a slobby-looking creature, i'm marrying an indian girl who lives in a teepee nearby and is always in the peak of condition" (page 65).

the woman who emerged was a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, an ocean sadder. this one understood the nature of pain, and beneath the glory of her features, there was character and a sure knowledge of suffering (page 69).

he was fevered always now, but he forced his frail shell on, because this had to be the finest since excalibur. domingo was battling a legend, and it was destroying him (page 130).

consider: a little over three years ago, you were a milkmaid and i was a farm boy. now you are almost a queen and i rule uncontested on the water. surely, such individuals were never intended to die in a fire swamp (pages 212-213).

"i've heard before of creatures like this, the heartless ones, and as they grow bigger they get more and more beautiful and behind them is nothing but broken bodies and shattered souls" (page 241).

"he sails the seven seas with the dread pirate roberts."

"why would he do a thing like that?"

"because he is a sailor for the dread pirate roberts."

"a sailor? a common sailor? a common ordinary seaman bests the great inigo montoya with the sword? in-con-ceiv-a-ble. he must be the dread pirate roberts. otherwise it makes no sense" (page 275).

"there is a god; i know that. and there is love; i know that too; so westley will save me."

"you're a silly girl, now go to your room."

"yes, i am a silly girl and, yes again, i will go to my room, and you are a coward with a heart filled with nothing but fear."

the prince had to laugh. "the greatest hunter in the world and you say i am a coward?"

"i do... i say you are a coward and you are; i think you hunt only to reassure yourself that you are not what you are: the weakest thing to ever walk the earth. he will come for me and then we will be gone, and you will be helpless for all your hunting, because westley and i are joined by the bond of love and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords" (page 280).

"your ears you keep, so that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish -- every babe that weeps in fear at your approach, every woman that cries 'dear god, what is that thing?' will reverberate forever with your perfect ears. that is what 'to the pain' means. it means that i leave you in freakish misery until you can stand it no more; so there you have it, pig, there you know, you miserable vomitous mass, and i say this now, live or die, it's up to you: drop your sword" (pages 351-352).

i LOVED reading about inigo and fezzik's histories. i loved that it delved into the nightmares buttercup has about what would happen were she to marry humperdinck. there're a couple of other small differences, but essentially (because goldman also wrote the screenplay), the film follows the text.

what sucked: there are TWO introductions to the novel, both by the author. WHY??? why must you waste my time and the world's paper? just get to the good stuff! thirty-nine pages of bullshit, and THEN the story begins. because it's a story within a story, and i don't give a rat's ass about the exterior. i only want to read the GOOD STUFF, goddammit. and then there's some thirty more pages of bullshit before you get to a sort of epilogue (i HATE epilogues because usually they're stupid and CHEESY). i'll probably read it. eventually. but for the sake of this post, i'm sticking a fork in the thing.

having said all that: i enjoyed reading this. it's fast and engaging... once you find the true beginning.

show us your books

June 25, 2017

one. a man called ove by fredrik backman. both my parents read this about a year or so ago and were unsuccessful in their efforts to encourage me to read it. and then one of the gals in the book club i'm in selected it. it's about a cranky old man and his neighbors attempts to befriend him. it starts slow but picks up quickly and there's some beautiful passages and a great story once you get past ove's crusty exterior. five.

two. wait for me by caroline leech. i'd briefly considered this for one of the categories in erin's book challenge but decided against it, and then i met the author the following sunday at a writer's brunch and liked her so i went back and got it and read it as a bonus selection in the challenge. it's set in scotland at the conclusion of the second world war, and german prisoners are forced to work on farms. a girl falls in love with one of the prisoners. it's a neat idea for a story, and i liked the german character and his history well enough, but overall, i found it tedious. two.

three. the bookshop on the corner by jenny colgan. i'd seen this book before and thought i might like it, and so for a christmas gift exchange hosted by mattie and olya, i put it on my wish list and another blogger was kind enough to send it to me. and then i chose it as a bonus selection for erin's challenge. an english librarian loses her job and decides to open a bookshop in scotland. it's a neat idea for a story. i liked the main characters well enough. i do not like the way colgan writes, mostly because the way she tells the story is boring. there's like three dozen chapters in this thing, and only the last six were any good. two.

four. little beach street bakery by jenny colgan. i picked this up at the bookstore, off one of the front-of-store tables, i think, and quite some time ago. before i'd received the other colgan book. it'd been sitting on my shelves untouched ever since. i decided to read it for the challenge. i liked the premise of the story, although it's rather similar to the other: the business an english woman and her boyfriend founded goes bankrupt, and her relationship with the boy goes bust, so she decides to move to a small town in cornwall and open a bakery. she falls for a beekeeper, but neither are much good at communicating, so her life kind of goes awry again. i liked more of the characters in this one. i would've said i liked it better than the bookshop story, but then i got to the ending. the last few chapters are so much shittier than the rest of the book that they killed any appreciation i may have had for the thing. plus it's godawful long. one. 

five. the duff by kody keplinger. read it because i like the movie. but the book's a lot different. that bothered me at first, which was why i'd put it back on the bookstore's shelves on a number of occasions. and then one day, i said fuck it and read it, and i'm glad i did. i like the movie well enough, but at times it's pretty ridiculous. the book's better. an ordinary high school girl engages in a casual, sexual relationship with a guy she considers a manwhore to distract herself from a miserable home life and the crush she has on another boy. it's cheesy but cute and reads quick. four.

six. the romantics by leah konen. a friend lent me this love story as told by cupid. i liked the idea and the characters well enough, and there's some good subplot that keeps things interesting, but i didn't care for the author's writing style, and the ending's ridiculous. one.

ones i've started: furiously happy by jenny lawson and the princess bride by william goldman.

tally: sixty-nine. i'd neglected to include what light by jay asher (a novel i'd read last fall) in the count.

check out what jana and steph have read.