On Persistence

How do you know when to give up?

I admit to putting a lot of books “aside,” which often means that I’m not up for reading them at a particular moment in time. Usually this has to do with difficult subject matter that requires fortitude and attention. Take, for instance, this stack of hard things that continues to wait for me on my night stand. I will read all of these books…tomorrow.

But giving up? I don’t usually do that. Librarian Nancy Pearl has a guideline for quitting. She calls it her “Rule of 50.” If you’re 50 or younger, give a book 50 pages before letting it go. If you’re older than 50, subtract your age from 100, and use that number as a stopping point. Her reasoning is that life is short, and books are many.

I see that as a good rule for airplane reads, whose purpose is to distract you from the crappiness of travel. But I don’t think that “quality” always reveals itself to me right away. What if the “takeaway” I’d get from something is not just pleasure? What if it’s a new lens or a new idea or greater understanding?

Unfortunately, that logic made me feel like I had to struggle for 10 days through Reservoir 13 by John McGregor. This book was on the Booker Prize Long List, and it supposedly had to do with the disappearance of a girl in a small town. It sounded like a literary mystery – one of my favorite genres. But it isn't. This is a novel about the rhythms of everyday life (grass grows, sheep are born, vegetables are planted, violence happens and then ends…). The artistry, I suppose, lies in the way the author plays subtly with the idea of suspense. Are we, as readers, supposed to have hope?

And I clung to hope! I did! I waited for the exciting, spine-tingling arc! I waited for the “twist!” But as days led to more days (both in the novel and in my own), I came to realize that I was expecting a different kind of book than I held in my hands. I wanted a book where the truth became clear, where wrongs were righted.

I suppose I’m not just talking about a bookish issue. When do we stop hoping for the best in the real world? When do we throw in the towel? And what distinguishes the moments where we do the opposite, where we decide to plug away, put on our raincoats, pick up our signs, and persist?

Photo credit: http://komonews.com/

The Leaning Stack of Books Diversity Challenge Bingo

Last month, I told you about my desire to read more broadly. In particular, I want to push myself to read books by authors from different backgrounds and about different cultures and experiences. I want to do this because I feel that I am a voracious reader but a narrow one. I also feel like I will grow as a person if I “travel” more extensively with people and to places beyond my own experience.

I listen to a bunch of book podcasts, and I remembered hearing on the Books on the Nightstand podcast about a summer reading bingo game the hosts created last year. I have decided to borrow their idea and use the bingo format for my own challenge. Welcome to the Leaning Stack of Books Diversity Challenge Bingo game!

Here’s what I did: I made a bingo card with some broad diversity-related categories. My personal goal is to read books that fill as many rows as possible. You, of course, can decide to fill just one, or several, or all. You can even change the categories if you want because bookish bingo anarchy is just fine. You are free to bingo as you see fit.

An important side note: this project is a creative way for me to challenge myself. I will decide for myself what terms like “non-Western,” “disability,” “of color,” and “classic” mean. You might have different definitions, and that’s great. Use them!

Here’s the card that I printed:

You can print your own card here.

The directions for the Leaning Stack of Books Diversity Challenge Bingo game were supplied by the online bingo game-making site. Here they are: When you get five blocks horizontally, vertically, or diagonally, stand up and shout “Blogtastic!” Or play as a drinking game and for every block you mark off, take a sip, and finish your drink each time you get five blocks in a row.

(Drinking Bingo photo courtesy of Amazon, where you can purchase your books and real drinking bingo game equipment with a single click! Classy!)

I did not make up these directions, but I totally support them. However, if you want to have tea instead, or shout something else, again, that’s up to you.

I would LOVE it if you would join me. Please just let me know by leaving a comment. We’ll do a check-in in July to check our progress, and then do a wrap-up in December. Happy reading!

Ask the Blogger

My loyal reader, Gabrielle, recently posed a bookish question in my comments section, and I certainly won’t pass up an opportunity to be a literary Dear Sugar! 

She asks:

How do you feel about reading with technology? I just started a much acclaimed novel with a strong historical element and find myself grabbing my phone as I read to google names of important sites in the book and maps. Is this a distraction? Should I wait a few more pages till the author introduces that topic more? Should I just plod along like in the old days? Thoughts?

Dear Gabrielle,

The minute technology and reading comes up, people get hot and bothered. Usually there’s some sort of simmering resentment between gadget lovers (who love the easy accessibility of information, or the storage and portability of e-readers and tablets, or just the awesomeness of being on the cutting edge) and paper book lovers (who love the smell or the feel or the physicality of ownership). In this particular debate, I have always said, “Read how you want.”

But you seem to be asking something different. You are wondering if reading something and then stopping to explore an idea on the internet is a bad thing. Well, again, is any reading-related activity a bad thing? Probably not. If the way you read in the “old days” involved “plodding,” then BY All MEANS, grab your phone and google away. Some might find that process to be “interactive reading,” where the text inspires you to search and explore.

I will confess to something, however.  The internet has inspired in me a host of bad habits. If I let myself, I will check my email or Twitter or Facebook just because I can. I will quickly ditch my chapter when there are so many digital rabbit holes to investigate. For me, searching the internet can get in the way of sinking deeply into the worlds that good books offer.  It can make me lazy.

So I suppose my answer is still, “Read how you want.” But if you ever see ME googling something while reading, please tell me to put my phone down.

Sincerely,

The Leaning Stack

Diversity and Intentions

At the beginning of 2014, I told myself that I wanted to read more broadly and with an eye toward more diversity. Certainly, the whiteness and middle-class American-ness of the publishing industry has received a lot of press lately, as has the overall whiteness of children’s literature. Politically, the data about (the lack of) diversity in literature has reenergized the discussion about inclusion and the role of writing and art in creating a more just society.

So what does that have to do with me? If you exclude the reading I do for my job, I mostly choose books based on whim and my mood. But I’d like to think that I grow when I read, that I become a more understanding person when I step into the shoes of different characters and walk through settings that are unlike my own. So the question is whether my whim and my mood actually give me a broad reading life.

Last year, when I said I wanted to read with an eye toward more diversity, it turns out that I was very unspecific in my ambition. I did not quantify what “more” meant. I did not qualify what “diversity” meant. In part, that lack of specificity stemmed from the fact that I don’t read with any particular agenda. Reading is not my homework. I read what appeals to me, because I’m looking for a particular kind of experience at a particular moment, not because I want to achieve anything or measure anything or prove anything.

My lack of specificity, however, made my reading goal sort of like a formless New Year’s Resolution (e.g. “I will lose weight” instead of “I will eat six carrots and run five miles daily”). And when it comes to reading diversely, the devil is very much in the details – Does reading more diversely mean that I read more books by nonwhite authors, no matter the subject? Or does reading more diversely mean reading books with a diverse array of characters, no matter the background of the author? Does diverse reading have to do with setting? For me, does it mean that the setting is not in the United States? Or does it mean that the setting is not “Western?” And what of other kinds of diversity – gender, sexual orientation, disability, etc.?

I keep track of what I read on Goodreads, so I am able to do a little bit of data analysis. I read just over 5 books a month on average during 2014. Just for fun, I created a few broad categories of analysis: books with an author of color; books with a main character of color; and books with a non-United States setting. I recognize that these categories do not encompass all of the dimensions of diversity, so don’t get upset. I’m just taking my temperature here.

With unspecific intent to read more diversely, 8% of the books I read in 2014 had an author of color.

3% of the books that I read in 2014 had a main character that was a person of color.

(As an aside, of the nine nonfiction titles that I read for pleasure, four concerned race or race relations. One of those books had an author of color.)

25% of the books that I read last year were set in a country that was not the United States. But if I look at books that were set in a non-Western country, that number drops to 3%.

My takeaway here is that my formless reading ambition to read more diversely in 2014 did not yield a reading life that was especially broad. So what about 2015? How can I give structure to my ambition without making reading all about structure?

I am going to devote January to coming up with a plan that works for me, so stay tuned.  In the meantime, let me know about your approach to reading broadly (hint: leave a comment!).

What I'm Reading This Week, Thankfully

Here’s a summary of last week’s reading adventures: Suicide, Murder, Divorce. Way to ring in the holiday season! My book club read Veronika Decides to Die, and I wrote about why it was a good “discussion book.” I read The Restless Sleep for Nonfiction November and found that I’m still restless for a satisfying nonfiction crime book.  And just yesterday I finished David Nicholls' Us, which was not exactly the romantic comedy I thought it would be (but it was maybe something better). A review on that is forthcoming. 

So I knocked off two books from last week’s leaning stack of books. This week is Thanksgiving, so I’m not sure how much reading I’ll get done. But here’s my ambitious pile, with a few new additions:

You’ll notice that there’s a book whose spine is reversed. That’s because I don’t want you to know that I’m reading it yet. It has to be a secret! My book club has a book exchange every December, and I’m thinking that this will be the one I’ll give (if it lives up to the great reviews). I’ve also put Hilary Mantel’s An Experiment in Love in the stack, because I received it at the exchange two years ago and still haven’t read it.

Here’s the synopsis from Powells:

It was the year after Chappaquiddick, and all spring Carmel McBain had watery dreams about the disaster. Now she, Karina, and Julianne were escaping the dreary English countryside for a London University hall of residence. Interspersing accounts of her current position as a university student with recollections of her childhood and an ever difficult relationship with her longtime schoolmate Karina, Carmel reflects on a generation of girls desiring the power of men, but fearful of abandoning what is expected and proper. When these bright but confused young women land in late 1960s London, they are confronted with a slew of new preoccupations--sex, politics, food, and fertility--and a pointless grotesque tragedy of their own.

That’s it for now. Please let me know what you’re reading, too. Hint: leave a comment!

(It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? is hosted by Book Journey)

What I'm Reading This Week

I’m joining the “It’s Monday: What Are You Reading” project (hosted by Book Journey) for the first time today. I’m trying to keep my momentum up, because I know that things will fall to pieces once the holiday season begins.

This past weekend I finished Veronika Decides To Die, which is my book club’s pick for this month. I’ll write up a review after our conversation – assuming there’s going to be a conversation. Ladies, who’s coming this month? It’ll be a good time -- Ethiopian food and suicide! 

I’m also reading The Restless Sleep: Inside New York City’s Cold Case Squad as part of the Nonfiction November read-along. I’m about half way through, and the discussion starts on Wednesday. So far…eh. I’m a little bit bored, and a little bit horrified. I’m still waiting to get sucked into it. 

The stack below holds other things I hope to get to soon – though not necessarily all of them this week.  

1) I received Lila for my birthday (thank you, Saskia!). I’m thinking that I have to re-read or at least skim Gilead and Home before I tackle it, though. I tend to forget details from previous books, and that drives me crazy.

From Goodreads:

Lila, homeless and alone after years of roaming the countryside, steps inside a small-town Iowa church—the only available shelter from the rain—and ignites a romance and a debate that will reshape her life. She becomes the wife of a minister, John Ames, and begins a new existence while trying to make sense of the days of suffering that preceded her newfound security.

Neglected as a toddler, Lila was rescued by Doll, a canny young drifter, and brought up by her in a hardscrabble childhood. Together they crafted a life on the run, living hand-to-mouth with nothing but their sisterly bond and a ragged blade to protect them. But despite bouts of petty violence and moments of desperation, their shared life is laced with moments of joy and love. When Lila arrives in Gilead, she struggles to harmonize the life of her makeshift family and their days of hardship with the gentle Christian worldview of her husband that paradoxically judges those she loves.

2) Radical Equations: Math Literacy and Civil Rights is the last book I promised to read for Nonfiction November. If I accomplish that, I will have read 4 nonfiction books for pleasure in a single month. That might be a record.

From Goodreads:

At a time when popular solutions to the educational plight of poor children of color are imposed from the outside-national standards, high-stakes tests, charismatic individual saviors-the acclaimed Algebra Project and its founder, Robert Moses, offer a vision of school reform based in the power of communities. Begun in 1982, the Algebra Project is transforming math education in twenty-five cities. Founded on the belief that math-science literacy is a prerequisite for full citizenship in society, the Project works with entire communities-parents, teachers, and especially students-to create a culture of literacy around algebra, a crucial stepping-stone to college math and opportunity.

3) Us just came in from my library hold list! Woo! I enjoyed Nicholls’ One Day, so I’m hopeful that this one will be a relaxing treat (It looks like One Day is on sale at Powells for $1.50, if you don't mind the annoying movie cover!).

From Goodreads:

Douglas Petersen understands his wife's need to 'rediscover herself' now that their son is leaving home. He just thought they'd be doing their rediscovering together.

So when Connie announces that she will be leaving, too, he resolves to make their last family holiday into the trip of a lifetime: one that will draw the three of them closer, and win the respect of his son. One that will make Connie fall in love with him all over again.

The hotels are booked, the tickets bought, the itinerary planned and printed. What could possibly go wrong?

4) Finally, This One Summer is a YA (or middle grade? I can't tell) graphic novel. I have yet to read any graphic novels and am not sure how much I’ll enjoy this format. But I’ve heard good things about this one, and it doesn’t involve superheroes or dragons -- so it seems like a good one to try.

From Goodreads:

Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. It's a summer of secrets and sorrow and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

In This One Summer two stellar creators redefine the teen graphic novel. Cousins Mariko and Jillian Tamaki, the team behind Skim, have collaborated on this gorgeous, heartbreaking, and ultimately hopeful story about a girl on the cusp of her teen age—a story of renewal and revelation.

That's all for now. Please let me know what you’re reading, too. Hint: Leave a comment. 

Weekend Update

It’s been a sleepy reading week for me after my quick 24 hour digestion of Jar City. I’m about half of the way through Booker Prize-nominated Nora Webster. So far, so good – but it’s a slow one for me. Hopefully I’ll get a review up in a couple of days.

I did go on a road trip this weekend to my favorite reading place on earth -- Powell's Books in Portland, OR .

Little did I know how difficult it would be to navigate Portland this weekend – I found out later that it was the weekend of the World Beard and Mustache Championships. 

This event, it appears, was “just for men,” which is sexist but somehow reassuring.

While there, I decided that I was going to challenge myself to my own lazy version of  Nonfiction November.  Just so I don’t get too overwhelmed by ambition, my personal adaptation of this challenge will be easy. I plan to read two nonfiction titles in November to stretch myself beyond my usual fiction genres. I have already chosen the two books:

Radical Equations is from my TBR pile. I bought it on a Powell's road trip three years ago, and it has sat, lonely, on my shelf since that time.

I bought The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace today after reading about it on the Powell’s blog.

Look forward to some thoughts about urban studies and education and violence next month (and, I’m guessing that part of the conversation will be about authorship. Whose stories are being told? Who should be writing them?)

(The doughnuts in the picture above are already gone, by the way. New snacks are needed.)

The Joy of Reading

My book club is meeting tonight. We are discussing To Rise Again at a Decent Hour by Joshua Ferris. I will admit to quitting after 100 pages of this one, for the simple reason that it did not give me any joy. I can often find joy in an unpleasant book, especially if I’m going to get the opportunity to whine about it in community. But the labor of getting through this one was greater than the thrill I’d get from dissecting it later.

Joy is really at the heart of it for me. I felt joy as a kid when my mother read to me at night. I feel joy when I find an un-put-downable book. I feel joy when I read something outside of my usual zone and find that it's amazing. I feel joy when a favorite author comes out with a new title. If I didn’t feel joy when I read, I probably wouldn’t do it.

That brings me to an ongoing concern: I worry that my kids, or any kids, will not find that kind of joy. In particular, I worry that school might rip the joyful potential of reading right out of them.

I’m sure I’ll be writing more about this topic as the months go on, but I thought I’d share a story about my kids’ experience in middle school Language Arts. Last year my boys were in sixth grade and encountered the Common Core for the first time. As you probably have heard, the Common Core Standards for English Language Arts bring an increasing emphasis on nonfiction reading as well as on real-world literacy skills.  One of these real-world skills, it turns out, is book clubbing! Woo! Well, more specifically, the skill is “engaging effectively in a range of collaborative discussions with diverse partners on grade level topics, texts, and issues, building on others’ ideas and expressing your own clearly.”

The class activity to address this standard was participating in a “Nonfiction Book Club.” The only requirement was that the book be rooted in truth and that all members had to agree on the selection. One of my kids was in a group of four boys, and they chose a book on explosions. I’m not sure, but I think the title was simply Explosions! (with exclamation point).  It concerned things that explode, the processes of explosions, and the noises that explosions make (Kaboom!).  So the group was successful at finding a mutually satisfying “informational text” to anchor the conversation.

But wait, this is school, and everything must be assessed. And I’m a little bit of a perfectionist, so the first question in my mind was, “How do you get an "A" in book club?”

I got my answer:

The column in the middle indicates the characteristics of a book club discussion that would yield its members a grade of “meeting standard.” To you and me, that means the student would get a "B." The column on the right indicates the characteristics of a book club discussion that would yield its members a grade of “exceeding standard.” And that, my friends, means “A.”

Since getting an A required using 2 of 3 of the “listening strategies” on the list, the boys decided to focus on “courteous attention” and “pausing for at least five seconds” between comments. Here’s how the conversation went:

Boy #1: I really liked it when that building exploded.

(Boys #2, #3, and #4 staring, immobile, with eyes open wide to maintain eye contact and stillness)

Boy #2 (counting): One, two, three, four, five.

Boy #3: Yeah. Me, too.

Boy #2 (counting): One, two, three, four, five

Boy #4: Dude, that must have been amazing.

Boy #2 (counting): One, two, three, four, five.

Boy #3: Dude, yeah.

Boy  #2 (counting): One, two, three, four, five.

Boy #1: My eyes hurt. Can I blink now?

 The good news is that my kid got a shiny "A" in nonfiction book club. He promised to work on “asking meaningful questions” at the next opportunity in order to further develop his skills (e.g. Are explosions still cool if people get hurt?).  I’m not so sure he experienced the joy of reading, but I’m pretty sure he racked up more evidence that adults and their expectations are ridiculous.

I, meanwhile, will be practicing “pausing for five seconds” tonight at my own book club. That will probably happen as I’m stuffing food in my face, joyfully. I’ll let you know if I meet standard.

Personal Backlist

Book bloggers often refer to their growing TBR (To Be Read) list, which is a physical pile or virtual list of books that they’d like to read someday.

I actually have two such lists. I have my “hold” list at the public library. This list is mostly made up of new hardcover books that I request months before they actually come out (and inevitably each of these books will become available on exactly the same day, so I’ll have a library pile of 20 books that will be impossible to tackle in the allotted three week period).

But I also love to go to bookstores and book sales and online sites and find “deals.” What happens is that I start accumulating books that always play second fiddle to library loans that beckon with due date urgency.

The stack above is just part of my own TBR pile. In honor of my birthday, which is TODAY, I decided to pull out and actually read the book that has been in the pile the longest. Think of it as giving attention to a title that is still vibrant in its middle age. Ahem.

So over the next couple of days, I will finish this novel from Iceland and let you know what I think of it:

The receipt stuck between its pages indicates that I purchased it in 2006.