Collected by Zora Neale Hurston, Adapted by Joyce Carol Thomas, Illustrated by Ann Tanksley

Stars: ***

This book was read for the Zora Neale Hurston Challenge.

“During her travels in the Gulf States in the 1930’s, Zora Neale Hurston recorded stories told by the people she met, to preserve their rich oral legacy. The Six Fools is one of the stories collected in Every Tongue Got to Confess, her third volume of folklore. It has been masterfully adapted for children by National Book Award winner Joyce Carol Thomas.”

More Than Human, by Theodore Sturgeon

Have you ever heard of science-fiction master Theodore Sturgeon? One of the leading figures of science-fiction’s Golden Age? What, you haven’t? For shame!

The Girl Next Door, by Jack Ketchum

I am not a person easily disturbed. Halloween is my favorite time of year, and I love nothing more than watching a scary movie simply to scare the living hell out of myself. I pride myself on being able to handle the goriest of scenes with a snicker – unless, of course, the gore involves an eyeball. Even I have my line in the sand.

The Long Walk, by Stephen King

Okay, let me get something out of the way. I do a lot of cardio. A LOT of cardio. I walk, run, whatever, at least five times a week. And I can say unequivocally, without a doubt, that I would be the first mothereffer issued a ticket if I were a contestant in Stephen King’s The Long Walk.

Now just sit back, kiddies, and let me tell you a story about a wee little website with some very humble beginnings.
* * *
Upon first learning that she was to give birth, our mother was nervous indeed, and it's true that many women are less than thrilled to learn they are about to give birth to a website. This mother, however, was not worried about having a website; on the contrary, she had hoped for one and was overjoyed when the doctor confirmed her suspicions (although to be fair many had predicted it, since she was carrying so low).

Her worries, then, were not for herself as mother, but rather for her child. Would anyone visit it? she fretted. What if no one likes it? Quite simply, our young mother worried no one would love her child.

Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout

This is another book that I received through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program, and at first I was worried it would prove to be another Larryisms. This belief was aided by the cover, which just gave off a whiff of boring (I’m glad to see they changed the design for the final edition). But still poor Olive sat for weeks on end as I delayed and delayed reading it.

I've been on a cleaning jag lately, and while organizing some papers I found a note to myself to read a short story by Ursula Le Guin. Hoping it was available online (and, quite frankly, looking for a reason to take a break), I found myself in luck -- and stopped cleaning immediately to read it.

The story, "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," was short but very powerful, and I'm still thinking about it now, almost 24 hours later. Omelas is, in a sense, a utopia, although Le Guin ultimately proves that the only place a utopia can be found is no place at all.

If you haven't yet had the pleasure of reading "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," then you may go here to read it in full.

I'd love to hear your thoughts after you've read the story. What did you think of the terrible paradox of Omelas? Could you live with this "terrible justice of reality"? Or would you be among those who "walk ahead into the darkness"?

Cake, by Doreen Fitzgerald

When you reference one of my favorite foods in your title, I'm immediately impressed. So I began Cake, a collection of selected poems by Doreen Fitzgerald, with a favorable outlook.

Cake's poems are short, mostly all a single page. The shortest is the title piece, which reads They say you can't / have it / and eat it too, / but then, / while you're chewing, / it's all yours.

Despite the playful tone of "Cake" most of the other pieces are more serious in nature, especially when Fitzgerald writes of her past. Those with a nostalgic feel are among the most powerful, as well as those which discussed nature. (The title of this post, by the way, comes from one of my favorites entitled "From the Far Side.")

Emotionless Souls, by David S. Grant

Don't expect to like the people who fill the pages of David S. Grant's Emotionless Souls. They're sick, empty people made emptier by their attempts to make their lives full.

I'm sure you're wondering, what exactly do these emotionless souls do to add feeling to their lives? Sex, drugs, violence? Of course -- and lots of them, with a little sadism thrown in for good measure.

The Fall of the House of Bush, by Craig Unger

My latest review for the good people over at Pajiba is up, for a book that is astounding for, among other things, its amazingly long title: The Fall of the House of Bush: The Untold Story of How a Band of True Believers Seized the Executive Branch, Started the Iraq War, and Still Imperils America's Future.

Enduring Love, by Ian McEwan

It’s funny how even the happiest times can be suddenly and forever ruined by the simplest of things. A poorly-planned remark when joking with a pal. A turned ankle while running the stairs. A glance down when driving. The most innocuous of acts can have life-long consequences.

The characters in Ian McEwan’s novels know this fact of life very well, as many of his characters suffer devastating effects from the most mundane of actions. Enduring Love is no different; Joe sits down to a lovely picnic with his wife moments away from a catastrophe that, unbeknownst to him, will change him forever.

The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson

The Invention of Morel, by Adolfo Bioy Casares

The Invention of Morel has been getting a lot of attention recently due to its appearance on Lost. I don’t watch Lost, so don’t expect any great revelations about how Morel explains the show. By the way, are they still on that damn island? I only watch quality television, like Big Brother 9. I like my tv with a side of brainlessness, thank you very much.

The Invention of Morel begins as our unnamed protagonist, a fugitive from the law, hides on an uninhabited island. One day, mysterious tourists suddenly appear, and our fugitive is frightened they have come searching for him. He needn’t have feared, however; it’s clear they are unaware of him.

Saturday, by Ian McEwan

Oh, shit. I've gone ahead and ruined a good book.

My biggest gripe with Saturday lies not with McEwan or his work, but rather with myself. It was my fault, you see, for reading Saturday immediately after reading Atonement, a novel which blew me away and knocked me senseless. In short, I was setting myself up for failure, for Saturday is no Atonement.

The Book of Air and Shadows, by Michael Gruber

I entered The Book of Air and Shadows with a feeling of doom, because it came to me via the same person who gave me both Michael Crichton’s State of Fear and Next. Needless to say, my hopes were low. Still, a free book is a free book, and The Book of Air and Shadows *does* concern Shakespeare, so I decided to keep an open mind and see what this Michael had to offer.

Title: The Tenth Circle
Author: Jodi Picoult
ISBN: 1741146933
Publisher: Allen & Unwin/2006
Pages: 385

Neurotica, by Elva Maxine Beach

Elva Maxine Beach’s Neurotica isn’t like anything I’ve ever read before. True, it features male-female dynamics as well as a thoughtful exploration of issues like power and control, but Beach explores these themes differently than most other authors do.

As indicated by the title, Neurotica blends both the psychological and the erotic. In fact, as Beach explains on her website, “My work isn’t necessarily erotica… It’s raw, yes, and there’s lots of fucking and sucking, but my work delves into the psyche. It’s psyche-sexual drama.”

The Zombie Survival Guide, by Max Brooks

I like books, right? And everyone knows how I just luurve zombies. So if you add the two together, I’ll like the result, right?

Right?

Title: Nightway
Author: Janet Daily
ISBN: 0671624873
publisher: Pocket Books/1981
Pages: 361

Life Before Man, by Margaret Atwood

I’ve commented before that Margaret Atwood can do no wrong in my book. I haven’t read all of what she’s written, but even her mediocre stuff is better than most other writer’s best. She’s one of the few writers whose work I will read without questioning, without reading reviews, or even without perusing the back jacket. If it’s Atwood, it’s in.

The Grass is Singing, by Doris Lessing

The Grass is Singing was my second jaunt into the world of Lessing; this, her first novel, is set against the backdrop of white-ruled South Africa. This short novel (practically a novella, really) is a study in psychology, portraying the suffocating nature of both the landscape and the society that inhabits it.

Atonement, by Ian McEwan

There are certain books that, after having finished them, one almost weeps for the experience. Reading Atonement, my first McEwan novel, was just such an event.

Book Number 46: The Red Tent, tells the story of Jacob and his family through the eyes of his obscurely known daughter Dinah. The bible only says that Dinah was rapped and her brothers avenged the rape by tricking and killing her rapist and all of his family. The Red Tent tells the story though through the young girls point of view. The main point I got out of the story is that this was a story about celebrating women and mothers. We each have a story to tell and we deserve our moment to be heard. All over the world there are red tent events where women gather together and tell their birth stories as well as other activities. Its goal is to educate and empower women and girls. To learn more about it, click here. As for the book I enjoyed the fictional female perspective of the story.

The Voice at 3:00 A.M., by Charles Simic

After hearing Charles Simic named as Poet Laureate, I just had knew I needed to get my hands on his poetry. The small taste I had earlier gleaned did not whet my appetite. I searched online: I hemmed, I hawed, I debated which volume to purchase.

The Dogs of Babel, by Carolyn Parkhurst

I have to say that I have an unhealthy love for my three dogs. (I also have a cat, but she’s a bitch so I don’t speak of her often. No, seriously, she is a ROYAL bitch. She actually had the balls to leave a turd on the floor because I didn’t say hello to her quickly enough. Asshole.)

Three Dollars, by Elliot Perlman

What becomes of our younger, more idealistic selves? When I was in college, I swore I’d never become what I am today: married, suburban, domestic. I can hardly remember what I’d imagined for myself, exactly, but at some point in the intervening years, that person slowly dissolved and was replaced by the woman I have become.

I don’t really mind the loss of my idealistic self. Sure, she was more fun and got in a lot more trouble, but she was also unrealistic, neurotic, and generally unhappy. Now I know that what I once viewed as placid complacency is not actually so. It is possible to retain the good elements of our youth while shedding the bad. It is possible for me to enjoy being all the things I'd once held in contempt. Being a suburban wife is actually pretty awesome.

Kockroach, by Tyler Knox

The tale I am about to relate is most undoubtedly true. The memory of it still manages to send chills down my spine, despite the fact that the following events happened over twenty years ago. The moment remains seared into my memory as though with a hot iron, driving into me a deep, irrational fear that is with me to this day.

It had been a day like any other. I sat, still blessedly innocent and unaware, playing in my bedroom. A light breeze moved the curtains and sounds of the city wafted gently through my window. I could hear the bleats and whirrs of passing cars, and the shouts of children (those who actually – I shudder at the thought – played outside) could also be heard.

Loose Girl: A Memoir of Promiscuity, by Kerry Cohen

Like all bibliophiles, I have my pet peeves when it comes to books. One such peeve involves the dust jackets which accompany hardcover books. In general I find them annoying, and never do I read with them on -- they get all flimsy and wonky and they're just generally a pain in the ass. Needless to say, immediately upon reading a hardcover book, the first thing I do is remove the dust jacket and store it atop a bookshelf in my library. Priorities, and all that.