I go alone. He does not know I am gone. He is at work and I should be safe until he comes home.
The Al-Qa Square is full of people. The noise is jarring and the pushing and jostling make me nervous. I feel like a ball of yarn being batted around by large cats.
This place is the opposite of my village of Khardji in northwest Yemen. My home is quiet and I have few neighbors; mostly, they are relatives of mine. Oh, I wish I were home among my family and not out in this chaos seeking justice.
Finally, I find the building that holds court. I weave in and out of the important people. I can tell they are important by the suits and zanna they wear. Those who have on the ankle-length tunics of northern Yemen also carry their jambia, a ceremonial dagger, waist high behind belts.
I walk through an open door and am faced with a group of wailing women and men wearing black robes. This is the place I want to be. It is up to me and only me to find one of those black robed men alone and get what I seek.
I will never be alone in here though. The women are wailing so loud I cannot understand what they are displeased about. It would be easier to read lips if they did not cover them with the traditional niqabs. Everywhere I look, I see big eyes lined in kohl and framed in rectangular windows talking to me. What are they trying to say?
Court has been dismissed by the noon call to prayers and I am swept out by all the bodies rushing for the door. I try to reenter. I try to reach one of the judges but it is no use.
Once outside, I stop a woman and ask her where I might find a judge. She points to the staircase and says there are plenty in the rooms upstairs. I climb the stairs fighting a queasy feeling I believe generated from the heat. I might have fainted at the top if not for the quick shove I got from a boy running to catch up with his parents. I open the first door I reach and sit in the waiting room among others.
The room is empty now and I sit afraid I will be missed as it becomes dark. The lady at the desk goes into the office and speaks to the judge. Suddenly, he is standing in front of me. “What do you want little girl?” I bravely state, “I want a divorce.”
I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali and Delphine Minoui is a true story that will break your heart.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
I am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced (copy)
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Travel Reading (copy)
Summertime and the reading is easy. Yes, it is that time of the year to pull out the chaise lounge and get busy. I recently sat through a 400 class of graduates at Georgetown with book in hand. Did not get to read it, but I was ready just in case.
If you are traveling this summer, I ran into some great advice through a listserv on reading. Linda Johns, a librarian at the Seattle Public Library and author of the Hannah West mysteries for children, shared her secret to traveling with books learned from a bookseller.
Carry three books with the thought of bringing only one home. Her secret: One book for the plane ride. Make it a quick plot-driven read you can leave in the seat pocket as you depart the plane. One book you have been meaning to read whether a beach sizzler or a smarty-pants classic and plan to leave it in the hotel lobby, or at a library where you can swap the book for another. Lastly, bring one book for the flight home. This book is the keeper. The one book you want lingering in your head if you happen to nap.
Following Johns’ vacation reads, I suggest new plot driven reads such as James Patterson’s Private, James Rollins’ The Devil Colony, and Dead in the Family, by Charlaine Harris.
Books to read on the beach might consist of the latest Janet Evanovich laugh-out-loud, Sizzling Sixteen, Stieg Larsson’s The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, Danielle Steel’s Family Ties, and The Search by Nora Roberts.
I realize keeper books are a matter of taste. One man’s keeper is another man’s hurler but some of these titles might appeal such as new books by Daniel Silva’s The Rembrandt Affair, Jennifer Weiner’s Fly Away Home, Nelson DeMille’s Lion, and Justin Cronin’s The Passage.
These are all hardbacks. Statistics show the majority of travelers prefer paperbacks which brings me to a new trend in publishing. Remember all those chick-lit books of past summers. “The new trend is away from ‘fashionista’ fiction and towards ‘recessionista’ fiction,” states Lexi Henshel on the same listserv. She suggests The Penny Pincher's Club by Sarah Strohmeyer, Small Change by Sheila Roberts and The Ex-Mrs. Hedgefund by Jill Kargman.
Happy summer reading!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Wettest County in the World (copy)
While reading this week’s book, I keep thinking men of manly stature would really enjoy this. Specifically, I think the kind of man that does not mind taking a blow to the face as long as he can return the lick. Okay, close your eyes and think author Harry Crews’ style of writing mixed with the hardships of Frazier’s Cold Mountain, and then add the uncertainty of bootlegging stump whiskey on a wintry night.
New book, The Wettest County in the World by Matt Bondurant, is a male book clubs’ dream. I can see the members, with aged bourbon in hand, having a lively discussion over this one.
Based on a true story that was passed down—piece meal—through the family until Bondurant took notice, it tells the story of great-grandfather’s bootlegging days. I say piece meal because Bondurant’s own father did not know his dad had a bullet would until a little before his death. “Oh yeah, shot me through here, and raised his shirt to show my father the entry wound under his arm. Not much more was said about it after that, which is the way my father’s family communicated about such things.”
The story opens in 1918 when the Bondurant family is whole. The youngest member eight-year-old Jack has a .22 rifle aimed at a sow slated for slaughter while his father and one older brother are tamping down the tobacco pit. The first attempt and the sow wakes up, the second attempt and the sow is a little miffed, the third attempt and the sow is dazed. At this point older brother Forrest jumps into the pen and finishes the job with a knife.
The following year, older brother Howard waits on an army troop ship anchored off the Norfolk harbor. The ship is quarantined since most the men have the Spanish Lady Flu. When he finally arrives home to Franklin County, Virginia, his family notices he is weak with a caved in chest. The family is back together, but Howard is a changed man. The next month brings the epidemic home where mother and two sisters die.
Time jumps as the first chapter opens in 1934 and reporter Sherwood Anderson is sent to Franklin County to cover the mutilation of two suspected bootleggers. A county, through 1935 records, that shows “99 people out of 100 are making, or have some connection with, illicit liquor.”
Forewarning to the story is a quote by Mr. Anderson that opens part one. “Cruelty, like breadfruit and pineapples, is a product, I believe, of the South.”
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Writing and Publishing (copy)
I read a book this week that I could not put down. Bet you are thinking suspense or romance novel. Ha! I hate to shock you, but it is a young adult, nonfiction book in the It Happened to Me series. I kid you not. The writing is engaging and the topic is of great interest to me.
Writing and Publishing by Tina P. Schwartz promises teens a bright future if they like to write. Her first chapter, “Reading,” sent tingles through my spine. If you want to write you need to read. Read various things in various formats and read often. If you have trouble writing in a certain genre style read all you can in that genre. If you like a movie read the book. It is always better with the characters’ thoughts and motivations. Find an author you like and read everything they have written. Read poetry. Read short stories. Read. Read. Read.
Careers are a major discussion in chapter two. It is understandable with a preteen or teenage audience. Schwartz focuses on more than writing books, too. She includes writing poetry, greeting cards, song lyrics, scripts, and grants. I like that she points out jobs for which a high school diploma is all one needs.
Now, I realize this book might not appeal to the ordinary non-writing fellow. But, like any book worth its weight in gold, this one suggests more book 
titles; specifically, Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft is mentioned numerous times. The funny thing, last nonfiction book I read also suggested this same book.
Stephen King, the author of over 60 novels, began writing as a preteen, too. In On Writing, he explains how his first short story took shape. It was based on his mother’s desire to exchange her green stamps for a lamp she would later give to her sister for Christmas. Her tongue was green from all the licking and pasting in just a few short minutes of filling in the reward booklets. King thought that would make a great story by adding an impossible reward like a house that took, “eleven million, six hundred thousand books of Happy Stamps.”
He titled his short story “Happy Stamps” and sent it off to Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Three weeks later and King was looking at his first rejection letter. With Fats Domino playing in the background, he placed a nail on the wall and punched the letter through it. At age 14 the nail was full of rejection letters and he installed a spike where as he satisfyingly impaled future letters.
This week readers have two choices: an engaging book on the “how-to” or a funny book on the “why” write.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
The Education of Mr. Mayfield (copy)
“All M. B. Mayfield could do for the longest time following his breakdown was open his eyes, close his eyes, and breathe.” Thus begins the third chapter of David Magee’s new biography titled, The Education of Mr. Mayfield: An Unusual Story of Social Change at Ole Miss.
M.B. Mayfield and his twin brother L.D. were born in 1923 amongst ten other children in a small shack outside of Ecru, Mississippi. The family sharecropped and all the children were free labor to an unloving stepfather. M.B. was a delicate, soft spoken young man unlike his boisterous twin brother. This caused a rift in the brothers where stepfather favored L.D. with chores around the house and forced M.B. to work in the fields.
One day M. B. woke to tremors in his hands. As he walked out to the fields he was a little shaky in his knees. He told no one as he took up the mule and began to plow. It was apparent after two rows something was horribly wrong. His legs locked up and he could not move an inch.
The doctor found a small lump on one of his lungs and he was placed on a week of bed rest. M.B. had tuberculosis, a common element in the family, and he was unable to do heavy labor ever again. It was during this time he lost interest in drawing his favorite comic strip characters or making up stories from the newspapers he could read insulating his home.
M. B. was depressed. The third chapter continues, “Time dissolved the way an unpicked melon seeps on an aging vine in the late-summer sun.”
It took the Holy Bible to get M.B. out of his funk. Upon reading a passage in Isaiah he took up a mantra, “They shall walk, and not faint.” Still too weak to work, he took up pen and pencil and began to draw. The more he drew, the more he wanted color and began to mix plants and flowers to make dyes for his art. M.B. was budding into a bona fide Mississippi folk artist.
Stuart Purser and his wife were touring the back roads of Mississippi when they came across a magnificent sight. Purser, new chair of an even newer art department at the University of Mississippi, sat staring at two concrete busts large enough to see from the road. On one side of the porch stairs sat Joe Lewis and on the other George Washington Carver.
The year was 1949 and Purser felt he had found a gold mine. It dawned on him the odd coincidence of finding an unknown artist in a town named after his favorite color, Ecru.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Jamie Lee Curtis (copy)
In the world of children’s books, one celebrity stands out. Jamie Lee Curtis has produced eight quality books to help toddlers become curious, smart and strong children. Each book takes an underlying theme such as empowerment, self control, self awareness, imagination and loss, self esteem, and family and belonging. Don’t let these “new age” words scare you away.
The books were written over a 15 year period when her children were young. Beginning in 1993 with When I was Little: A Four-Year-Old's Memoir Of Her Youth, she said her four-year-old was bragging about her accomplishments. Curtis knew this little human experience would make a great book.
She followed it in 1996 with Tell Me Again: About the Night I was Born. The story put a different slant on the favorite “day I was born” tale because both Curtis children were adopted. Some of the words go, “Tell me again about the first night you were my mommy and you sang the lullaby your mommy sang to you.” The adoption community loves the book and her work began to become noticed through them.
Her audience grew with each successful book and in 2008 she released Books to Grow By Treasury. It is a compilation of four books, When I was Little, I’m Gonna Like Me, Is There Really a Human Race? and Where Do Balloons Go? with a CD read by Curtis.
The Eight Books to Grow By series is excellent if you have preschoolers. The illustrator, Laura Cornell, puts a little funk in the mixture with her curly-cues and vibrant water colors. Kids will take their time pointing out the little funnies that appear throughout her work. In When I was Little the children are laying side-by-side during naptime as one boy looks angry at his neighbor whose foot dangles on his cot. The Cornell/Curtis matchup is a hoot in all these books.
Would my life be any different if I had grown up with these books? I don’t know, but I bet I would smile more.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (copy)
Henrietta didn’t feel right. She wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong but she had a little knot in her lower abdomen. She had no problem with the pregnancy and birth of her fifth child six months earlier, but this knot was new. As her body returned to its normal size the small lump remained.At her next check up, Henrietta told the doctor she felt a little lump. During the pelvic examine the doctor found a most unusual nodule. It was rounded like a marble with a shiny purple color. The doctor noted on her chart, “like grape Jello.” Henrietta was right. There was something growing in her stomach.
The year was 1951 and Henrietta’s biopsy was malignant. She rode the bus to John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore the following week for radium surgery. She did not tell her family she had cancer. Instead she acted like she was off for a weekend with friends.
Before the doctor administered the radium he did a favor for a colleague. George Gey (pronounced Guy) was trying to grow human cells. His office, located in the basement at Hopkins, looked like an industrial kitchen except for the Bunsen burners and large freezers lining the walls full of “blood, placentas, tumor samples, and dead mice.”
Gey discovered Henrietta’s cells, from her first biopsy, lived through the night and split and multiplied over the weekend. This was not unusual. He had cells that reacted the same way but died by the end of the work week. On a hunch, Gey asked Henrietta’s doctors for more cells just in case this multiplying effect which was still occurring after five days turned into his “immortal” human cell.
Gey was handed a small cup labeled, Henrietta Lacks, full of cancer cells still warm from her body. Those cells became known as HeLa cells and are still growing in mass quantity today. The book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, states that if the microscopic cells grown from Henrietta’s original cells were placed side by side they would wrap around the earth three times.
Rebecca Skloot, teacher of creative writing at the University of Memphis, has written a highly readable nonfiction book. Readers will not get bogged down in techy terminology and boring shop talk, this book is pure nonfiction fascination. Unfortunately, Henrietta died within a year but her cells continue to advance science in areas such as gene mapping, in vitro fertilization and cloning.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Beep! Beep! Book Stop!
"A story untold could be the one that kills you."
~ Pat Conroy
In honor Of Pat Conroy's South of Broad release in paperback, I found a couple of snippets to get you excited about his book.
From the first line: It was my father who called the city the Mansion on the River.
Last lines: "Yes, that is it: anything can happen. Yes."
It is up to you to read the middle! ;D
Fiction:
South of Broad (2009)
My Losing Season (2002)
Beach Music (1995)
The Prince of Tides (1986)
The Lords of Discipline (1980)
The Great Santini (1976)
The Water Is Wide (1972)
The Boo (1970)
Nonfiction:
The Pat Conroy Cookbook: Recipes of My Life (1999)
I am currently participating in a blog tour for this book! Please visit Lisa at TLC for more information on the book and other bloggers' reviews!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
One Night of Madness (copy)
Attala County, Mississippi, drew national attention in 1950 for a horrible slaughter and the bloodhound assisted manhunt that followed. Afterwards, time passed and the events were forgotten.Out of the tragedy rose one bright occurrence. A young reporter working for The Kosciusko Star-Herald snapped a picture that would continue on to win America’s Best Journalistic Photograph awarded by the National Press Photographers Association.
The picture depicts two men spread eagle on a hard dirt surface of someone’s farm. In the middle of the picture is a man dangling a cigarette from his close-lipped mouth, wearing prison stripped pants and holding two revolvers at the ready. The man laying in the front is being frisked by an officer while two men are frisking the other suspect.
That young reporter who happened to be married to the newspaper editor’s daughter took the famous shot which was lovingly placed in a scrapbook to highlight his accomplishment. With the picture as centerpiece, the scrapbook became filled with news items from all over the U.S. reporting on the event. It soon out grew the family photo keepsake and the material was moved to a 30 x 30 inch book used in the newspaper business as a page layout.
For as long as he can remember, Stokes McMillan knew an aura of pride surrounded the huge scrapbook. It was brought out from under the bed on special occasions and the family gathered to listen quietly as a proud Mrs. McMillan retold the story. He, himself, had pulled the book out and flipped through the pages on many an afternoon, but he never took the time to read the articles. Finally, Stokes became a family man and the scrapbook was relocated to the darkness under his own bed.
It took a request from his son to finally make him read the articles. His son was going to college and asked his dad for a poster size copy of the photograph for his dorm room. Stokes got the picture and some others taken by his dad on that fateful day and had them blown up. While waiting around he figured he better read the articles for details when giving the presents.
Stokes became fascinated by the newspaper accounts and felt there was a book waiting to be written. One Night of Madness is written in Truman Capote style where literary license is used to move the story forward. One can purchase the book through his website www.stokesmcmillan.com.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Give My Poor Heart Ease (copy)
“I got the blues this week. Down in my back, I have found no relief.” These are lyrics for my new song “Low-Down Back Blues.” Yes, I am having a little back trouble this week and it is fitting that I talk about Give My Poor Heart Ease by William Ferris.
From the first lines to the last, this book is excellent! Why, you may ask? Well, I don’t want to gush, but it has every element known to the blues genre within 302 written pages including an hour long DVD of original content, an hour’s worth of original music on CD, original photographs, and illustrations. It is a truly complete package.
Ferris begins with a nine page introduction that should be the basis of his autobiography. He grew up in the country outside of Vicksburg in the 40s and 50s. From an early age, he was fascinated by the music he heard played or sung by his neighbors. This developed into a passion for all things Southern especially blues music. He was not alone either. His older brother Grey shared the excitement.
While attending college, Grey talked his brother into interviewing with film and recorder the locals as they sang or preached. This is the beginning of his DVD. Filmed all in 1968, the home movies are gritty black and white productions full of unscripted moments such as the Reverend Isaac Thomas who sings his sermon instead of orating at the Rose Hill Church, a baptism in the Mississippi where the flock enters the water in pairs, and prisoners singing work chants while chopping wood at Parchman Penitentiary. Listeners will recognize the familiar sing-song of railroad workers in the Coen Brothers’ movie, O Brother, Where Art Though?
These amateur beginnings served Ferris well as he became a folklorist and set out to record and interview all the blues artists in Mississippi. In 1970 he came to the hill country of Tate County to interview an opinionated man named Otha Turner. Otha opened his home to Ferris and taught him how to make his own fife.
He made Napoleon Strickland’s first cane, too. Otha said, “He took it up hisself after he heard me blow a piece. And now Napoleon can really blow a cane.” On page 73 is a picture of Otha holding his legacy, Sharde Turner, a current student and recipient of the Edna Teasler Scholarship at Northwest. One can hear Napoleon performing “Somebody Knocking on My Door” on the CD, too.
These are merely examples of one man’s passionate opus to the blues.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
People of the Book (copy)
Back in 2005, when I started writing book talks for The Southern Reporter, I was conservative when suggesting books. If the book contained excessive foul language or a questionable sex scene I usually enjoyed the book but found another one to talk about. That year I read some excellent books that were left un-suggested including Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire, A Million Little Pieces by James Frey and Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks.
I regret not introducing new readers to Geraldine Brooks. She won a Pulitzer Prize a few years later with her book March, and has written another stellar book titled People of the Book. Really, when I think about Year of Wonders, I have to wonder why I thought it questionable. A woman in her late 70s at the time suggested it to me and I hold her taste in high regard, but still something held me back.
With two thumbs wildly wiggling up, I whole-heartedly suggest People of the Book. A little something for everyone, the novel is based on a true story that combines history, family relationships, religion, travel, and mystery.
In 1996, Hanna Heath is summoned to the remnants of war torn Bosnia to conserve an ancient haggadah. A religious book, the haggadah is read by Jewish families during Seder in which the story of Exodus is related. She is met at the airport by United Nations guards and three armor-plated vans which escort her to the museum holding the book.
Obviously, this isn't any old book but the Sarajevo Haggadah that was appraised in 1991 at $700 million. It is thought to be the oldest illuminated Jewish codex with images and Hanna handles the calf-skin parchment with kid gloves. While turning the pages slowly she finds three things foreign to the manuscript: a butterfly wing, a blonde hair and a small grain of salt.
In this story the plot is driven by the protection of the book through the years. One follows the persecution of Jews and the peril of the book starting with the Bosnian War and then moving to Nazi run Vienna in a reverse chronological order. This is an excellent history lesson as they travel to Venice, Italy of 1609 and then the forced expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492.
It is the small objects left in the book that reminds the reader of a fine mystery. Hanna also leaves a little gift for the next 500 years.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wolfsnail: A Backyard Predator (copy)
If this book had a sound track, it might sound like the theme to "Jaws," duuun dun duuun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun BOM BOM dun dun dun dun dun dun doo dedoo doo dedoo dede doo dede doo dededoo…I am talking about Sarah C. Campbell's highly acclaimed Wolfsnail: A Backyard Predator. This children's picture book, published in 2008, was honored by the American Library Association's newest award.
The Theodor Seuss Geisel Award began in 2006 and has proven a major player in "beginning reader books" for the very young. To be honored is to say that one did not win but came in second. Still, it is a pretty good accomplishment for a Jackson, Mississippi husband and wife team of photographers; especially, since it is their first book ever.
Technically, this book is considered a photo-essay, but that genre title sounds too fussy. By using photographs taken around their home, the couple tells the story of a lone wolfsnail in search of food. The vibrant greens of plants such as hosta and grass, the opalescent brown of the shiny shell, the grainy ground, and the crackly tan of fallen leaves all work together to create a visually stunning story.
A story that could be told without words, but Sarah feeds our imagination with little know facts about the thumb size creature. She begins, "Water from a spring rain runs along the edge of a porch. It falls onto the shell of a wolfsnail. The snail is tucked inside its shell. Today, it is time to wake up and find food. Water seeps into an opening in the shell. The snail begins to move. Its tail comes out first, then its head."
From here the wolfsnail realizes it is hungry and begins to hunt other snails and slugs by following their slimy tracks. It traipses over large hosta leaves where little readers will see the remnants of morning dew. A shadow passes over and the wolfsnail ducks into its home to avoid the mockingbird. When the coast is clear, he emerges from his shell to continue the hunt for a common snail.
Sarah considers herself a teaching author and this book is perfect for a spring day outside with the kindergarten class or a "small creature," themed storytime. If snails gross you out try the new children's book by the duo titled, Growing Patterns: Fibonacci Numbers in Nature. Filled with photographs of pinecones and sunflowers, the book demonstrates how one can find the number pattern (1,1,2,3,5,8,13...) in nature.
More about Wolfsnail and Growning Patterns can be found at Sarah C. Campbell's blog!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Procrastinator’s Guide to Getting Things Done (copy)
I was perusing the new books this week when one caught my eye. The Procrastinator's Guide to Getting Things Done by Monica Ramirez Basco, Ph.D. sat gnawing at me. The guilt of past work undone and the lingering anxiety of a "to-do" stack sat sticking its tongue out at me. Could this book help?
Now, I am not one to read self-help books but this one obviously filled a needed niche. I took it to lunch and we both commiserated on my problem. Turns out, I have a reluctance to get started and put things off for fear of not doing them perfectly. Thought I fixed the "perfect" problem with another, self-help book in my 30s; unfortunately, the problem lingers under the surface and sabotages my actions covertly.
Basco is a wry writer and realizes her audience will also procrastinate and possibly put off reading her book. With this in mind, she wrote a little sidebar in chapter one titled, "Resisting the Urge to Procrastinate on This Book."
Among Basco's seven suggestions sits a gold mine of ideas for any reluctant reader not just procrastinators. Her first suggestion refers to the fact that if you see it you will read it. Place the book on your night stand or coffee table. In my case, lay it on top of the stack.
Carry the book with you whether it is out to lunch or a bathroom break. Standing in lines is the perfect time to whip it out and start reading. Instead of listening to the same old television commercials click the mute button and read. Whatever the circumstance, keeping the book in hand means it will be readily available when spare time occurs.
Here's a silly suggestion but Basco says one should plan to read one page at a time. Is there another way? Physically, is this possible? I am at a loss for her meaning. She doesn't expand but she might be alluding to the size of her book. Read in little chunks and an enormous book will eventually be whittled away.
Basco's list contains a couple of "do nots," too. First, do not set unrealistic goals such as read a book by the end of the week or read a book before you do anything else. Reading should be without pressure. Second, do not tell yourself you "have to" read any book. Tell yourself that you want to read no-matter-what, or in the words of Larry the Cable Guy, "Geterdone!"
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Stitches (copy)
Young David grew up in a quiet family who kept their emotions below the surface only to boil-up around inanimate objects. For instance, his father had a punching bag in the basement and every day after work he would pound into an unknown face. His mother took her frustrations out in the kitchen. The slamming of cupboards, clanging of pots and pans, and the harsh sounds of drowning utensils and plates while being thrown into water was a daily occurrence. Even his brother kept the household beat with his drum set.David opted for a noiseless way to act out. At the age of six he became mysteriously sick. His father was a radiologist at a major hospital in Detroit and often David was x-rayed as treatment. His father later claimed that it was standard practice for anyone born with breathing difficulties such as asthma or sinus conditions. Readers will see otherwise as David becomes a human guinea pig.
By age eleven, David has a slight growth on his neck. It is his mother's best friend, Mrs. Dillon, who discovers the small lump. In front of David, Mrs. Dillon makes his mother promise to see a doctor but once she leaves his mother declares, "Doctors cost money and money is something that is in short supply in this house!"
Three and a half years later, David's tumor is too large to ignore and he requires surgery. It is only after he is recovering at home from two surgeries that remove his thyroid gland and one side of his vocal cords that David learns why. A letter, locked in a desk and written by his mother, explains his cancer and how the family refuses to tell "the boy" about it.
David Small's true story, Stitches: A Memoir, is a gothic tale of love denied. He was definitely a product of the times when children were seen but not heard. It was the psychologist that broke the news, "Your mother doesn't love you."
Illustrated in graphic format, older readers will recognize The New Yorker style comics, but this book is for young adults. It appeals to anyone reading graphic novels for it is loyal to the grotesqueness of the genre. It's the heartbreaking story that appeals to all.
I leave you with a quote from the book jacket. "A silent movie masquerading as a book, Stitches renders a broken world suddenly seamless and beautiful again." It is one of those books that live within you long after the last page is turned.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Pop-Ups (copy)
As a librarian, I have a love-hate relationship with pop-up books. Obviously, they are books; thus, my eternal love. It is the lifespan of pop-ups that causes me such grief. When purchasing them for the library, I automatically think I am wasting taxpayers' money. How many children will enjoy the book before it becomes a broken mess?
The act of placing the book behind the counter to save it from wear and tear also defeats the purpose of providing the book. If a child cannot read it because I hold it hostage in a protected area, he will never benefit from its use. Removing it from the "safe" shelf for story time does ease my guilt, but it remains inaccessible to that child who may need a little visual stimulus to foster her love of books.
Pop-up books can be seen as gimmicky. A child benefits from the bright colors and sing-song words in a regular children's picture book. Pop-ups are icing on the cake. There is no proof that a pop-up stimulates the brain, but one can guess that twinkle in her child's eyes might mean something is taking place – possibly fun.
It is with a heavy heart I suggest David A. Carter's pop-up books. I realize their little book bodies will be bruised, torn and mangled. They will encounter many dirty-little hands pushing tabs, grabbing at dangly spots, and catching piecer-parts that fly. These books are doomed. Woe is the book that encounters a known slobberer.
Born in 1957, David A. Carter began his career in the 70s as a graphic designer. He was fooling around at work making little paper bugs when he thought of creating a book for children. His first book, "How Many Bugs in a Box?" became popular and in 1987 he started his own business making "buggy" pop-up books.
Fast forward and we find Carter creating pop-art, pop-ups. His latest titled White Noise opens with the line, "Rainbow bubble blast and crackly white noise." As the child opens the cover he sees red, yellow, blue, and black dots rising from the page. It reminds me of a retro 50's table cloth or glass tumbler design. The three dimensional art makes noise as white gears scrap across black dots.
Yes, I did purchase it for the library along with, Blue 2, Yellow Square, 600 Black Spots, and One Red Dot. Hopefully, these books will have a longer shelf life with adult students.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Promises I Made My Mother (copy)
It was a delight to hear Sam Haskell speak at the Senatobia Lunch with Books yesterday. He flew in special from New York to promote his excellent new book, "Promises I Made My Mother." I was late but after listening to him for just a minute I was struck by his gentle mannerisms and charming good looks. No wonder he won the hearts of finicky people like Bette Davis and David Frost.
Sam Haskell was born in Alabama but he soon moved to Mississippi and considers Amory his hometown. As a child he believed anything was possible and he continued to have faith when others began to doubt. In the prologue he uses the Cheer Man as his example.
In 1964 Amory had all of three television channels from which to choose and nine-year-old Sam was a scholar of all. The Cheer Man was a commercial airing that year to promote the washing detergent. The spokesman dressed in bright orange and sporting a detergent box hat was seen walking through a neighborhood asking, "Do you use Cheer?" Finally he gets an answer when one lucky housewife shows off her box. The spokesman then hands her a ten dollar bill and all is right with the world.
This commercial, this image, this event was going to happen to young Sam. His mother used Cheer and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Cheer Man came down the street and stopped at his front door. He jumped into action – so as to be ready for the blessed day – by making a poster declaring his undying love for the product. With money saved he purchased all the paint and mini rocks to place on his poster which became a garish three by four foot sign that he proudly displayed above his bedroom headboard.
Soon his artwork became the butt of his father's jokes. "Son, show the guys what you plan to do when the Cheer Man comes?" Sam would eagerly display his masterpiece only to be met with snickers and guffaws from the crowd.
It was his mother who kept the dream alive although time passed and the Cheer Man commercial cycled off the air. Eventually, the poster came off the wall to reside under the bed and then moved to the closet. His mother never once pointed out the impossibility, but told him it was a beautiful dream.
Readers will find the Cheer Man cometh and directly to the Haskell's front door thus proving all things are possible. Sam returned to Mississippi yesterday after a successful career in Hollywood culminating as Worldwide Head of Television. Yes, all things are possible.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Saving CeeCee Honeycutt (copy)
Cecelia "CeeCee" Rose Honeycutt was twelve-years-old when she realized life with her mother was getting worse. There were hints like the three straight weeks her mother went cuckoo crazy for shoes that resulted in overflowing shoeboxes in both bedroom closets. Another time she caught her mother sitting at the kitchen table sporting her favorite pink robe with candy apple stilettos peeking out from under the hem. One embarrassing time CeeCee arrived home from school to find her mother perched on the stoop wearing a ball gown and tiara.
CeeCee's father was no help. He was a travelling salesman who took every opportunity to get out of town and away from the family. He cut up the credit cards and yelled for her to take her medicine, but still she over shopped and walked around bewildered. When the money became tight, CeeCee's mom began to shop at the local Goodwill for prom dresses.
Many times CeeCee came home to a quiet, dark house. Climbing the steps she would see her mother immobilized in the upstairs bedroom pouring over a scrapbook filled with memorabilia and too lethargic to turn on the house lights. Other times she might catch her mother in a rage where fragile vases and china plates were flung around like a water sprinkler.
On this ominous day CeeCee would have to face facts. Returning from the library, she opened the front door and was greeted with a smelly gray smoke. She rushed into the kitchen to see a pot of macaroni and cheese overflowing onto the stove top. Upstairs she found her mother with the scrapbook poking a finger at one of the pictures. "My life is here; this is my 'real' life."
CeeCee looks into her mother's eyes and asked, "Momma, what's my name?"
"Why, CeeCee Rose of course and your friend is Nancy Drew."
"Well, sort of. Nancy Drew is a character in one of my books."
Camille Sugarbaker Honeycutt is stuck in 1951 where she remains forever the Vidalia Onion Queen. With an absent father and all her people in the South, who will take care of CeeCee? Her life is perched precariously on the ledge of an abyss and her mother is slowly elbowing her off.
Saving CeeCee Honecutt by Beth Hoffman is a new southern novel that brings the crazy back down home, because everyone knows our southern roots include insanity.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Shop Class as Soulcraft (copy)
During my pre-teen years I worked for my father's carpet cleaning business. Less residential and more commercial, my time was spent cleaning offices and bathrooms. Father loved to skirt the law and those pesky child labor ones - he felt - didn't apply to a family run business.
I may have already told this but my parents' families were an exercise in opposites. My mother's privileged and father's questionable, I faced an early education in the "haves and have nots" with ample examples. Benefits for me included material wealth such as toys and clothes from one side and precious freedom to run amuck from the other. Life was good.
My dad's mother worked factory. Granny Smith filled my ears with words like skeleton shifts, mandatory overtime, assembly line, and various adjectives for a terrible thing called a manager. As I began to understand her wordage, I jumped to the conclusion she worked assembly line.
It wasn't until I began to clean the offices at Hoeganaes that my thoughts were corrected. This factory worked in metals and there were giant furnaces along the north wall and the floor space was filled with single-worker machines. On weekends we entered through the truck bay and headed to the office area. They ran a skeleton crew and every blue moon I might catch Granny Smith out on the floor or in the break room.
One day my dad asked me to pick up the trash along the machines within the factory. Granny Smith was in the middle of the room and it took me sometime to reach her. As I neared, another man was cursing his machine. It was making a horrible noise and beginning to steam. He called out, "Edna Mae, this one is breakin' down!" She hit three or four buttons on her machine and ran to his aide. With my mouth on the ground, she grabbed an oil can and began to tease and tempt the humongous dinosaur into submission.
It was the look of pride on her face as she returned to her machine that I will never forget. I closed my mouth and continued working until I reached her and she gave me a big ole hug and kiss. Her coworkers, realizing my family connection, began to spout her accolades. Smiling shyly she threw some choice words back at them and the room hushed except for the purring of the machines.
What is happening to our society as we export our factory jobs to other countries? What is left for the class of people who take pride in their own hands? Matthew B. Crawford tries to answer these in his new book, Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry into the Value of Work.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Delta Deep Down (copy)
Jane Rule Burdine, a native of Mississippi and currently living in Taylors, has a muse. This muse is moody though. She can produce breathe-stealing humidity and angry storms one minute and then sing of soft foggy bogs and fluffy kudzu gardens the next. For over 40 years of nurturing this muse, Burdine realizes she can never be tamed; although, the muse has made an effort to sit still for pictures.
The book, Delta Deep Down, is Burdine's portrait of her muse, the Delta. Over 100 photographs covering the early 1970s to present will haunt, delight and mist over readers' eyes. As one opens the cover of the book revealing a rich-brown, freshly plowed earth, they suspect the contents to be forth right. On the last pages appears blue sky with fat white clouds. The interior of the book reveals not just the land in between earth and sky but heaven on earth.
An introduction by Steve Yarbrough stops readers from jumping straight into Burdine's collection. He teases us as he relates stories of a Delta he remembered as a kid growing up in Indianola. From a woman on page 27 that looks like his childhood corrector named Johnnie to a "shack" on page 72 whom the occupant calls home, we follow his story by glimpsing briefly at the pictures on the corresponding pages. Yarbrough brings uniqueness to introducing Burdine's work with this approach.
Following the introduction is a poem titled "Home" by William Alexander Percy. It appeared as the fifth stanza in "In New York" stemming from a bout of homesickness by the poet. The last sentence reads, "And, when the marvelous wide evenings come, Across the molten river one can see, The misty willow-green of Arcady. And then—the summer stars…I will go home."
The first official photograph of the book is perfect to open the collection. The picture was taken from the inside of a building looking out a window without glass or sashes. Through the wide opening we see moist plowed ground, some telephone poles and horse-hair sky. It is a reinforcement of the book itself mirroring the front and back covers talked about in previous paragraphs.
My favorite shots in the collection consist of people. One of them portrays a family either returning from or going to their fishing hole. Older daughter is forging ahead with all the cane poles slung over her shoulder while mother holds granddaughter's pudgy hand and father brings up the rear carrying with what I hope to be a mess of fish. The sky is blue and the gravel is yellow on a perfect Saturday afternoon.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Backyards & Beyond (copy)
As we pray to ease the suffering Haitians are currently experiencing, I took an opportunity yesterday to revisit the hardships Katrina caused by viewing the "Backyards and Beyond" traveling exhibit currently displayed at the Delta State University Museum & Archives building in Cleveland.
During the first days after Katrina struck, many Mississippians in the northern part of the state felt a sense of helplessness as the stories began to trickle up from the coast. Something horrible was happening in our backyard and we were powerless. Those who were on the coast at the time were left to find services and supplies as best they could from attending organizations. Does this sound familiar in the aftermath of Haiti's earthquake?
The exhibit "Backyards and Beyond" is the story of Mississippians who survived Katrina and attempted to clean up before services and supplies were in place. Some of the stories make you cry, some make you turn in disgust, and others will evoke a chuckle. One story had me fighting back tears.
After being rescued from her rooftop, a woman told of the 15 odd dogs that swam to her rescue boat. Other dogs remained on roof tops or swam away once seeing her German Sheppard. The rescue boat dropped them off at the top of a two story building, the bottom floor was filled with water, that remained their shelter until help arrive three days later. It was the thought of the dogs left behind that caused me to unhinge.
I should stop here and explain the layout of the exhibit. Upon entering a short video explains the reason for the exhibit. Apparently artist H. C. Porter could not sit idly by in Washington D.C. while her fellow Mississippians suffered. She boarded a plane the next day for the coast with a mission. She photographed and recorded as many stories as possible while fresh. She jokes that she is not a historian and used a $20 Wal-Mart recorder.
Porter took her material back to the studio and produced 50 pieces of mixed media portraits while listening to the stories. The exhibit contains 20 of those portraits with the individual's story located on the side. On the floor throughout the exhibit are life size photographs of debris as if walking around the bedraggled coast.
What does this have to do with books? The exhibit catalog is excellent with all 50 pieces of artwork and stories. If you cannot make it to the exhibit, check out Backyards & Beyond: Mississippians and Their Stories by H. C. Porter.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Best Picture Books of 2009 (copy)
I love the end of the year with all its best books from 2009 lists. For our childcare classes, I ordered a handful from these lists and am delighted to be the first to read them.
For children with short attention spans, All the World written by Liz Garton Scanlon and illustrated by Caldecott Honor medalist Marla Frazee, is perfect. Frazee wrote and illustrated last year's popular A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever, and she portrays the same friendship and camaraderie amongst all us humans in this new picture book. Scanlon words emphasis the message, "Hope and peace and love and trust, All the world is all of us."
Yes, I too had aspirations of becoming a pink-clad, tutu-twirling ballerina. My scrawny, third world belly was a sight, unlike the perfectly poised child ballerinas in Beautiful Ballerina by Newbery Honor winner Marilyn Nelson and photographer Susan Kuklin. Four students from the Dance Theatre of Harlem will stretch, pirouettes and leap into many a small reader's heart. Words are rare, but require an adult to read like this passage, "To the tradition of port de bras and arabesque, of pirouettes, jetés, and pas de deux, you bring a tiny hint of Africanness, juju and beautiful joy danced in your every move."
For little boys Dinotrux, written and illustrated by clever Chris Gall, combines dinosaurs and trucks. The story begins, "Millions of years ago prehistoric Trucks roamed the earth. They were Huge. They were Hungry. But they weren't helpful like they are today. They rumbled, roared, and chomped. And they did NOT get along well with others. They were called DinoTrux!" Gall is a genius!
Looking for a hilarious read-aloud? Duck! Rabbit! written by Amy Krouse Rosenthal and illustrated by Tom Lichtenheld will confuse and amuse children. A basic ink shape of a rabbit, or no, duck appears on every page. Wait a minute. What is it? With motion waves drawn under the shape one declares, "There, see? It's flying!" while another says, "Flying? It's hopping!"
Bedtime will be less fight and more quiet with Otis by Loren Long. Otis is a farm tractor who has the run of the farm. When a little baby calf is placed next to him in the barn at night, he becomes a sleep aid with his "soft putt puff puttedy chuff." Unfortunately, Otis is replaced by a loud yellow tractor whose snores shakes the barn and scares the little calf. We need Otis!
Start the year off right by reading to your kids or grandkids with these best-of-the-best reads.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Born to Run (copy)
As a rule I balk at New Year's resolutions, but this year I wrote down 20 promises to be broken at an undetermined future date. Out of the 20, eight of them deal with running, losing weight and becoming healthy. This is a great time to head to the library and look for books on exercise and nutrition. No need in spending money on books I might not use.
Within a library search I found the perfect book, Born to Run:A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall, to inspire me for at least a month. Wait! Don't stop reading! This is less a book on the mechanics of running and more about the joy of running. But, you are thinking, "I don't run and this has nothing for me."
McDougall is a great story teller. He spends chapters exploring the Tarahumara culture, a Native American tribe who prefer to run mountain trails barefoot or wear ankle laced sandals. Dangers lurk at the base of the lawless country of Mexico's Copper Canyons where the tribe lives. Drug lords are unkind to those caught passing through the marijuana fields. To add mystery to the story there is a man called Caballo Blanco (White Horse) who haunts the trails and lives amongst the tribe.
Readers will marvel at the ultra-running that takes place in America. Ultra-running and ultra-racing is a relatively new sport that pits man against nature for lengths passed 26.2 miles or the standard length of a marathon. Like music rappers, runners divide the country between east coast and west coast races of 50 or 100 miles and rarely do racers cross the Mississippi. The exciting Leadville 100 (100 miles) is retold by the author as if reading a horse race in the book Seabiscuit.
The media portrays the book as a manifesto for running barefoot and that is unfair. In many interviews with the author, reporters focus on the pros and cons of running barefoot or with racing flats rather than traditional running shoes. McDougall adds to this misconception by running to the interviews barefoot. The book is much more than the gimmick.
It reminds me of Upton Sinclair's book The Jungle which is renowned as the catalyst for government regulation of the beef industry or as a treatise for vegetarians when in fact it is a study in socialism. There is a brief mention of the beef processing plant and the bloody Illinois River but by no means is the whole book on the evils of beef.
My hope is that people will read Born to Run for its many other attributes rather than write it off as a crazy author's bid for attention.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Reluctant Reader Confession
I was excited to read that the Coen Brothers were in Memphis looking for an unknown teenager to play the part of Mattie Ross in the remake of the western classic True Grit. Some of you remember this movie as an introduction to John Wayne's popular U. S. Marshall "Rooster" Cogburn character, but I differ. I was entranced by the Mattie character.
Every Sunday after church, Dad and I would sit down for the western matinee playing on our Nashville TV station. I must have been 11-years-old when I first saw True Grit. At the time, I was the spitting image of Mattie. I sported freckles galore with straight bangs and dirty blond hair short enough to be mistaken as a boy. In short, my brother and I looked alike.
Dad was the first to mention other similarities. Yes, I was a hard-headed mule who knew more than the people around her. Yes, when I set my mind to something, other things suffered. Yes, I was tough and quite gritty. Dad began to call me "baby sister" after that day and I much preferred it to his other nickname, "number two." My brother was "number one son" and well my standing was clear.
What does this have to do about reading? There is a point. I promise.
When I was in second grade, I did not belong in the "A" reading group. I tested in the "B" group and was placed there the second week of school. Well, I thought there was a mistake and I kept going to the A group only to be walked back to the B readers. Every once in a while my teacher, Miss Harper, would see me sit in the back of the As, but she played dumb and allowed me to stay.
It was a dark day when it happened again in third grade. Confidence was lost and I bowed with the shame of not being a "good" reader. This is when I became one of those reluctant readers. Oh, I could read. Vocabulary was not a problem; although, I had a tendency to add r's, t's and d's in words when spoken. I have a southern mountain mixed with Texan accent. To keep classmates from laughing, I became quiet and invisible – hiding behind the desk in front of me – during read-a-loud portions.
Confidence fell even farther as I was left behind in fourth then fifth grade. It became obvious during standardized testing that I could read but not understand what I read. My focus was on the words and not the story. As with millions of school children, I went from loving reading to hating it with every ounce of my being.
My determination to make something of myself led me to a self-improvement in reading. I would read a book after watching the movie and try to make sense of what I read. My first book was Jaws by Peter Benchley followed by the popular Amityville Horror by Jan Anson. (I give away my age here.) And the silly thing, it worked! I had a way back into reading and a great confidence builder!
It was True Grit that led to the biggest break through. The first two books were loose adaptations to screen and I could connect some parts but others were still incomprehensible. True Grit, written by Charles Portis, was almost exactly the same! The ending was a little different, but the plot and characters all matched up! In my joy, I read it two times straight through.
If I thought of this back in the 70's, I know there are others who have done the same thing. This is a perfect argument for replacing a beat up title with the new, movie-cover edition. It may have been the cover art that attracted me first then the idea followed. Whatever the case, I am a reader thanks to this backwards thinking. Oh, and Coen brothers, you are 30 years too late!
I write this as a non-published article for possible use in future book talks. It is more an exercise in habit since I write my articles Wednesday mornings and want to stay in practice. I realize it is wordie but it serves my purpose.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Christmas Quiz (copy)
As you bask in the glow of your finely lit Christmas tree, gather the family for a bookish Christmas quiz. Each paragraph below is a quote from seven beloved Christmas books. Guess the title of the book that corresponds to the quote. Sounds easy peasey, right? Well, I'm not going to give you the titles that derive from contemporary, classic and children's books. Answers found at the link titled "Christmas Quiz Answers". May I suggest a plate of angel-shaped cookies and eggnog to accompany your brain activity?
A. "The Kranks are skipping Christmas! No party! No tree! Nothing but money in their pockets so they can blow it on a cruise."
B. "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach."
C. Chapter title "My Old Man And The Lascivious Special Award That Heralded The Birth Of Pop Art"
D. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more."
E. "You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"
F. "The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world. They lied and stole and smoked cigars (even the girls) and talked dirty and hit little kids and cussed their teachers and took the name of the Lord in vain and set fire…"
G. "His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!"
H. "On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets. I was listening for a sound—a sound a friend had told me I'd never hear—the ringing bells of Santa's sleigh."
I. "…the Man, the Connection, Santa Claus himself"
J. "More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!"
K. "God bless us every one!"
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Give Mississippi for Christmas! (copy)
Have you thought of giving Mississippi books as holiday gifts? I was thumbing through the University of Mississippi Press (UPM) catalog and thought the holiday selections would make perfect gifts for my friends.
The first selection is Occasions: Selected Writings of Eudora Welty compiled by Pearl Amelia McHaney. Associate professor McHaney thought it would be nice to collect rare works by the author for her centennial birthday. Articles such as her earliest story, “Acrobats in the Park,” and humor pieces such as “Women!! Make Turban in Own Home!” fill pages with pieces only found within archives. This book promises any Welty fan a new perspective on her genius.
Second selection is Highway 51: Mississippi Hill Country by Gloria Norris. I talked about this excellent coffee-table book a couple of weeks ago, but as a reminder it does depict locals having fun or working along our most beloved thoroughfare.
Captivating Combinations: Color and Style in the Garden by Norman Winter is third in the suggestions. As always, Mr. Winter provides stunning color photographs and audacious mixtures that make any gardener salivate. Only he could mix chili peppers with a bed of red petunias. In a section titled, “Butterfly and Hummingbird,” Winter captures a scene from Pine Mountain, Ga. where orange cosmos and lantana blend beautifully to attract butterflies. If anyone is interested – hubby pay attention – I would love this for Christmas!
One of the last selections is a remake of the 1972 Mississippi Cookbook. Here is your chance to give a batter and splatter free copy to your favorite cook. The history of the book states, “Over 7,000 recipes were collected from all areas of the state. From this total, the home economists of the state Cooperative Extension Service had the painfully difficult task of screening the amount down to the 1,200 best recipes.” Martha Hall Foose updates the forward in this must have tome.
My pick, which is also published by UPM but not included in the holiday list, is Lost Plantations of the South by Marc R. Matrana. Eight chapters are dedicated to the glorious past of architecture in this one of a kind book. Mississippi’s lost treasures are found in chapter six such as familiar Longwood outside of Natchez and Windsor south of Port Gibson. Readers will also encounter Goat Castle, Brierfield, Hurricane, Prairie Mont, Malmaison, and Homewood plantations. Imagine my excitement opening this present – um, hubby – Christmas morning.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
On the John University: U.S. History (copy)
Back in 2005, I wrote a class paper based on encouraging boys to read. A great source for the paper suggested making a nook in the bathroom and filling it with magazines, newspapers, comics, and books.
Why limit this to boys? I understand there are large numbers of people who like to linger in the bathroom and this suggestion makes perfectly good sense. It is the perfect place to get comfortable and meditate right?!?
I admit. I do not have such a nook in my home. I have books in every room but the bathroom. I even have books in my closets! I imagine the reason is because I came from a home where books were not that important and hanging out in the bathroom was forbidden.
By coincidence a friend told me about this great series he is using in his bathroom to refresh his long forgotten American history. The series is titled "On the John University: The Path to Higher Education Starts with a Good Sit Down." He was currently reading "U.S. History" for which I grabbed a copy at the bookstore too.
Now, I must be honest. I have not read the whole book. It is 512 pages full of everything imaginable on the topic. Plus – like I mentioned earlier – I will not be reading this in the bathroom instead preferring to read it prior to sleeping for which the book is well suited.
Information is concise and fits in one or two pages. For example, on page 37 one can read about "The Real Pirates of the Caribbean" in four short paragraphs. It begins by telling readers there is no such person as Captain Jack Sparrow. Christopher Columbus has many pages dedicated to him, but the selections are in one or two page increments. I enjoyed the page titled, "The United States of Columbus?" since Amerigo Vespucci knew he was in a brand new land unlike Christopher's India.
The series includes other titles such as "Sports History," "Great Thinkers" and "World History." Imagine the wealth of information one will attain after reading one of these fine books, that is, if her mind can retain it all. I might gain some nuggets for the next Trivial Pursuits game.
Become flushed, "with the knowledge of America's movers and shakers." Stock your bathroom today.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
In the Deep Heart’s Core (copy)
I was pulled aside before the discussion meeting on the book "In the Deep Heart's Core" by Michael Johnston. The book club member wanted to point out the specifics of the title.
First she read aloud the passage from W.B. Yeats:
"I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core."
She then followed with the quote from a Delta Native:
"If Mississippi is the heart of the Deep South,
Then the Mississippi Delta is the deep heart's core."
I agreed whole-heartedly! I would go even farther to say the South is really the heart of America! Unfortunately, there is a problem with the ole ticker. In the "deep heart's core" of Greenville lives some ugly plaque that has slowed the flow of blood to the extremities of the body of our state and our nation. People in the area have eaten a little too much racism, dined on ignorance and snacked on poverty to the point of stroke.
This is according to the book if one follows the logic. I blame no one, certainly, not the fine folks of Greenville. White flight has occurred in cities and towns all over the south and north. I am left wondering how to fix the problem. How do we place our heart on a diet and exercise routine and bring it back to a healthy pink condition?
It takes a man like author Michael Johnston to encourage a healthy lifestyle. Johnston was a fresh graduate of Yale Law School when he signed up for the Teach America program. He left his native Colorado for the south and in 1997 began teaching at Greenville High School.
In the first chapter he recalls talking to a couple of ladies while looking for a house. They asked him what he would be teaching and he told them English. This was met with a burst of laughter. One lady said, "You know that's a foreign language down here!"
He persisted and entered into the hearts of many of his students through poetry and chess. I encourage you to read this book and hand it to others. It is time we get the blood pumping.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The Blind Side (copy)
I began reading Push by Sapphire last night for today's book talk. As I read it, I kept thinking yuck. By page 27, 12-year-old main character, Claireece Precious Jones, has been abused physically and sexually by both her parents. My stomach is still turning. The film based on the book, Precious, is currently in theatres.
I decided to switch gears and talk about another book currently in theatres titled The Blind Side by Michael Lewis. My book talk, written in January 2007, opens with the horrendous tackle Joe Theismann endured by Lawrence Taylor—an attack which ended his football career. Viewers, 17.6 million, saw the heartbreak as New York Giants and Washington Redskins battle it out during a Monday night football game. It was, "the start of the second quarter, first and 10 at midfield," when Theismann caught the "flea flicker" and set up for a pass.
Out of nowhere Taylor raised his arm to sack attack Theismann. The force wasn't in Taylor's arm but rather in his descending right thigh. As he came down for the tackle his thigh was pushed down into Thiesmann's right leg, fracturing tibia and fibula.
Lawrence Taylor was known as a fanatical quarterback destroyer. Apparently, Taylor suffered from claustrophobia and preferred to maneuver away from the pack. Meaning, he would not lower himself into a set position when in the line of scrimmage. Once the ball was snapped, he preferred to move around the mass and be the guy closer to the top of any tackle.
His natural fear became a new successful maneuver for "sacking the quarterback." Time-after-time he went around the line and circled back to find the quarterback unprotected. He, in effect, hit the man from his blind side and created a new football strategy.
This new strategy requires a heavy, nimble man or waltzing elephant to be effective. It is a unique human that possesses this mixture, weight and grace—so unique, that the NFL is willing to pay big money for the specimen. The left tackle, Taylor's position, is the second highest paid player, other than the quarterback.
Imagine you are a football scout and you have just seen an incredible sight, a sophomore at Briarcrest Christian School, bulky yet nimble, making three pointers on a Memphis basketball court. This is how Michael Oher first appeared to scout Tom Lemming, believing he had just witnessed the next Orlando Pace.
The next year, Lemming "ranked him [Oher] as the #1 offensive line prospect" in the country. Follow Oher's evolution from gentle giant to mean machine in this very entertaining book.
I'm excited to hear all the Oscar talk for Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side and Mo'Nique as the mother of Precious!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Diary of a Wimpy Kid (copy)
Yesterday, I ate lunch with a group of unfamiliar librarians. After the small talk died down we sat looking at each other and smiling. It was time for my favorite question. "What are y'all currently reading?" This is my chance to do a little reconnaissance work.
During my turn I announce, "I just finished 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid.'" It is written and illustrated by Jeff Kinney who uses a cartoon format to tell a story. This last sentence is added for your benefit. I am lucky if I remember the title correctly.
The librarian next to me spoke up and said, "I have to tell you a funny." She continued, "My daughter, Lauren, came up to me and asked if Jared was sick." He hadn't complained of any ailments to me. "No. Why?" With a deadpan expression she said, "Because, he is always reading."
Apparently, Jared is enamored with the Wimpy Kid series and eaten them all up at once. There are four published in this series that include the original, plus "Rodrick Rules," "The Last Straw" and "Dog Days." Jared also likes the Alex Rider series for those mothers out there who recognize a kindred spirit in their sons.
This is exciting! Boys reading! I later looked on the local public library's catalog and found most of the titles checked out. One could really be excited knowing that even more boys were reading, but there is no proof. These could be checked out by girls, too.
So, what's the hubbub, Bud? Main character, Greg Heffley, ask his mother for a "journal" not a girly "diary!" Well, she hears what she wants to hear and brings home a diary. So, if anyone asks, it is a journal. Greg believes keeping track of his life now will lessen headaches later when he is famous. See, he can make copies of his journal and pass to all the reporters; thus, keep those pesky childhood questions to a bare minimum.
Greg is a typical middle school student, he tries to be popular and avoid the Cheese Touch at all costs. Abe Hall got the Cheese Touch last year and no one would come near him. He moved to California over the summer and Greg hopes he took it with him. One is afflicted with CT after they come in contact with a moldy slice rotting on the school's outdoor basketball court.
In an interview with author Kinney he said, "My goal was to write a book that made people laugh." He can sleep well at night knowing millions of kids are laughing.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Highway 51 (copy)
Again, I am reminded of the diverse talent Mississippi has to offer after flipping through the photographs of Gloria Norris' new book "Highway 51: Mississippi Hill Country." The coffee-table-size book is a collection of her camera work that is testament to all the singers and writers who made their homes along the mainline between Jackson and Memphis. She spreads a wide net at times. The book includes towns such as Oxford, Teoc, Holcomb, Independence, and Coffeeville but all would use highway 51 as the thoroughfare.
First talent is Gloria Norris herself. This is her first book of photographs but readers may know her other works such as the novel "Looking for Bobby" or the short story collection "Three Stories." Born in 1937 just off 51 in Holcomb, she decided to photograph the pavements' people and places when she noticed gated communities and homogenous fast foods beginning to populate the route.
Many pages are devoted to the talented Elvis. The book includes his home, Graceland, Sun Studio where he recorded and his blue Caddy. I imagine many girls swooned when seeing him while riding top-down. Across from the caddy is a picture of the blue doors of the Lorraine Motel. It makes brilliant two-page spread, but Lorraine is off highway 61. Here is another example of the wide net as she includes the Peabody, too.
The third group includes writer talent such as William Faulkner and Eudora Welty. The introduction written by Rick Bass who began his career writing while working as a petroleum geologist in Jackson remembers the road well. A picture of Faulkner's woods behind Rowan Oak sits opposite the backdoor from inside facing those woods. The green hues soothe in both with contrasting black tree trunks juxtaposed to the single black umbrella hanging on the coat rack.
Norris includes living musical talents such as Art Browning, Karen D'Ambrino, Lester Senter Wilson, and the Smith Brothers. We catch a reflective R.L. Burnside with his red Cutlass mirrored in the window beside him. On a two page spread devoted to Mississippi John Hurt, viewers will marvel at the speckled nature of two totally different settings. One being his headstone with coins scattered at the base and the other a knotty cypress doorframe with a guitar headstock leaning on the wood.
Local talent is also displayed in the book. Sledge Taylor tends to his cattle in Como and rocking chair maker, Greg Hawkins, proudly holds his saw. My favorite is Coretta Allen sitting in Austin's Barbershop getting her hair done. This is a must see and read book!
