Amanda A. Allen's Blog, page 3

August Reads

So….I finished the official Popsugar book challenge and created my own.  Which was fun and is fun.  I think I’m reading so much more this year versus last year simply because I’m not so stressed out.  Last year, my Dad’s health was iffy and the outcome of the fostering of return home vs adoption was up in the air.  I honestly could hardly see straight at times.

Now, I feel like better.  It’s not that my life is all that more clear.  If, in fact, life has taught me anything it’s that the best laid plans will usually go awry and that if you follow the instincts of your heart and work hard, things will be okay.  But because I’m less stressed out, I am reading more.  Without further ado, in August I read:

Anne of Avonlea by LM Montgomery

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

Anne of the Island by LM Montgomery

The Old Testament — finished it anyway

The Martian by Andy Weir

The Last Dragonslayer by Jasper Fforde

Wild Born by Brandon Mull

Hunted by Maggie Stiefvater

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

Under a Graveyard Sky by John Ringo

Flora and Ulysses by Kate DiCamillo

Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammet

and

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

Of these, The Martian and the DiCamillo books were excellent.  The Fault in Our Stars is one of the best books I have ever read, but this was the 2nd time through for me.  It was also the second or more time through The Thin Man and Alice in Wonderland.  Both of those are excellent.  Honestly, though, can I just take a second to say how amazing Flora and Ulysses is?  FANTASTIC.  Just wonderful.  I’ll be reading it to my kids shortly and I’ll be reading the rest of DiCamillo catalogue soon.    Kate DiCamillo has won two Newberry Awards RIGHTFULLY.  I don’t even have the way to explain why it’s so good.  But it is.  It is SO good.  So, so, good.  That’s the thing about these crazy, random challenges.  You find authors that you like so much you read their whole dang catalogue.  I’m looking at you John Steinbeck, Larry Correia and now, Kate DiCamillo.

Speaking of things totally unrelated, do you remember my post of my Squirrel Problem?  I get distracted.  I get distracted, like a squirrel, from my Works In Progress (aka the books I am writing) most of all.  Which is probably why I’ve written the better part of a totally unplanned book this week.  Because…of course.  Totes normal.  Totes.

What?

What?  Did I break my pinky swear to myself?  YES I DID.  I DID THAT.

But I’d just like to point out.  I have written MOST OF A BOOK IN ONE WEEK.   Holy Moses!  Also, though very different from everything else I’ve written and something I expect that many people will not enjoy, I LOVE IT.  It’s darker, bloodier, and what not than my current books.  There are ghosts, possessions, love among the dead.  Multiple people get stabbed in the throat and such.  What I’m saying is…you know…if that doesn’t sound good to you.  Don’t read it.

As my buddy and co-author Auburn Seal says, I’ve finally written something she’ll like.  Um…not that I don’t, you know… like your other books.  But… I’m not trying to say that…

Sure, Auburn, sure.

Also, my son is turning 5 soon.  My attempt at self-control is laughable as I look at what I have purchased for him.  So…sue me.  He’s a stink who’s getting used to be spoiled.  He told me for Christmas he wants 4 pirate ships.  Last year he got two.  I think he envisions using the area rug in our living room as the ocean and having an epic pirate battle.  As I explained, I have Santa’s number, I’ll see what I can do.  But, 4 more pirate ships is doubtful.  He’s like that’s cool.  I’ll take two more.  Oi.  Vey.  Spoiled.

Also, btws, the Thin Man movies are very good.  You should check them out.

~Amanda

I did it!

Today I finished the last book of the Popsugar Book Challenge.  It has been a strange and unique experience because I read a wide variety of books that I probably wouldn’t have read.   I was responding to arbitrary and random requirements for reading and therefore started reading all over the place.  Which–in the past–hasn’t been that unusual for me.  But in the last few years, it has been so hard to read books (children!), and I have been far more selective about what I would spend my time on.

Mistakenly.

Totally and completely mistakenly.  I should have been willing to branch out more.  To read things that I wasn’t sure I wanted to read.  To read things that appealed slightly or that were maybes or that I would consider, pass, and then consider again.

When I went to look at my Goodreads list for the year, I discovered some interesting things.  Namely, I had totally met my challenge of 52 books for 2015.  As of right now, I have read 70 books so far this year and am in the middle of two I expect to finish early next week.  Which is significantly higher than what I read in 2014.  But also, I had on average read far more classics than 1 per month.  I did miss May when I was in the wonder of the Larry Correia catalogue.  But I have met my goal on average.

And my favorite books so far this year?  Ruling out books I had read previously–all of my favorites, I probably wouldn’t have read without either the classic challenge I have given myself or the Popsugar challenge of randomness.  How awesome is that?!  Things I probably wouldn’t have read!  (This is why I have decided to make my own random list of arbitrary requirements that is directing my reading still.  Amanda’s Popsugar Book Challenge Part 2, has already helped me discover a new and awesome book I probably wouldn’t have read.  (The Martian by Andy Weir.)

But for the book challenge.  Here are the best of the books:

5.)  The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

This one is super interesting.  The main POV is something that becomes more and more intriguing and you realize what you are dealing with, but explaining would be SPOILERS.  And I don’t want to do that to you.

4.)  The Girl with All the Gifts by M.R Carey

Interestingly enough, the exact same statement would apply to this book as to The Girl on the Train–but they are completely different books.  Loved them both.  I liked the end much better of Girl on the Train–and really it’s a toss up of which one I liked better.  They’re pretty solidly tied.

3.)  Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Depending  on my mood, I might have picked up this one.  I like end of days books.  They are so lonely.  Though this one is much less so.  This one had an interesting premise.  In reality–it isn’t that different from The Stand or The Road, but it has several things going for it over those ones.  And that is–despite things being awful post end of days, it doesn’t go to the dark, dark, dark places.  Those things happen–but it’s got a quick fade out so it doesn’t make you want to slit your wrists like after the baby-eating scene in The Road.  

That being said–the construction of the novel is freaking amazing.  This chick has writing chops.  Also her description and the characters and how she handles the mass of characters for the traveling group and how she makes you care about a dude who totally died at the first of the book.  She’s just super, super clever.  Totally enjoyed this one so much.  

2.)  Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth

I don’t read memoirs or non-fiction very often. I definitely wouldn’t have bought this even though it sounded interesting.  I LOVED IT.  I am looking forward to reading the sequels.  I LOVED IT.  I loved the old-lady, cake-stealing nun.  I loved the story of that couple who doesn’t speak the same language but are so, so happy.  I love the insight into a life and time so different from our own.  I LOVED IT.  It brought me to tears on multiple occasions and I find myself thinking about the people–the honest to goodness, real-life people she described often.

1.)  Hard Magic by Larry Correia

If you looked at this book on the shelf, you would think CHEESE BALL.  But it isn’t.  It’s wonderful.  Take my recommendation here and GET THE AUDIO.  It is read by Bronson Pinchot who is amazing.  I loved this book so much I read the entire Larry Correia catalogue (almost) looking for those same flashes of brilliance.  And you see them on occasion, but here they are condensed.  Man, this is a GOOD book and the rest of the trilogy is equally good.   This is one of those trust me situations because you wouldn’t think that this book should be above the ones I just listed.  (And I’m sure many, many people would disagree with me.) 

But for me, this book is excellent.  I don’t envision a time when Larry Corriea isn’t an auto-buy for me.  

The winner:  The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

Did you see how I did that?  I totally snuck in an extra book by having a “winner.”  And it sort deserves to be separated.  Because the thing about The Grapes of Wrath–it made me furious.  FURIOUS.  I got so freaking pissed about a ton of things.

 What the hell did this even happen for and how dare they do things like throw away oranges when people are starving?!??!??!  WHAT THE FREAKING HELL???
Why?  Why?  Why?  Did I get to my age without having read it before??  I’m not trying to be snobby here when I say I’m not an average reader.  But, I read a LOT of books.  I’ve read a ton of classics.  All on my own.  To challenge myself.  I have taken a ton of literature classes.  I would love to take one right now.  I love books and reading them and discussing them.  If I weren’t totally imprisoned by my kids most of the time, I’d be part of a book club in 10 seconds flat.  But more!  MORE, DAMN IT, MORE.  Why wasn’t this something we read in American History when we studied the depression?  I can tell you that my point of view on this part of American History would have been massively different if they had done things in school like combine literature of the history with the facts.  But it’s also more than that.  I mean–I took like 14 literature classes in college.  Easily more.  I read The Heart of Darkness 4x in college.  That’s not a joke.  I can see how people who weren’t English Majors didn’t read this book.  But I was.  I honestly think I should have read it in high school during american history.  But if I hadn’t read it then, it should have been assigned before Heart of Darkness (4 separate times!!)
Speaking of things that I think about often–this book–I think about this book often.  I think about the people who were in it.  I think about the times.  I think about the horror of it all and what it must have been like for those families that lived through such terrible things.  This book makes me sad.  Like Call the Midwife–it opened to my eyes a time that I didn’t really understand and a life that I couldn’t really imagine.  This book is powerful.  It is wonderful.  It’s many things, but for the purposes of this list–it is the winner.

So there you have it.  6 books.  1 classic.  Three award winners or nominated.  Three books set in Great Britain.  Three books set in the United States.  Two books based on real things.  Two books with odd and interesting narrators.  Two books that have something else in common, but I can’t tell you because SPOILERS.

How will this change my reading in the future?  I don’t know.  I’m gonna throw down my own version of the book challenge and see how it goes.  I expect I’ll be reading some more award winners in the near future.  Those books are pretty much guaranteed to be powerful and amazing.  I expect I’ll be more willing to read books recommended to me on a passing fancy.  If someone enjoys a book enough to tell you they loved it, it is worth a second or third thought especially if they sound energized and excited by the book.  That reason is, after all, why I read The Girl with All the Gifts, The Girl on the Train, and Station Eleven.  I expect that I’ll be more willing to look for something that is a bit of a challenge, because that is ultimately why I decided to read Steinbeck.  I expect that I’ll be finishing the Steinbeck catalogue in the next year or so as well as L.M. Montgomery’s.  And I’ll be looking up Steinbeck’s contemporaries.  I’ll be looking for more indie authors–that’s how Correia started as far as I can tell.  I’ll be looking for the books that people ARE EXCITED ABOUT.  Even if it isn’t something you’d normally read, a book that someone “buzzes” is likely to be pretty damn good, using the reading from the last 7 months and 8 days as a guideline, anyhoosen.

~Amanda

ps On my personal pop sugar challenge, I’m reading Anne’s House of Dreams by L.M. Montgomery (I can’t remember why this one in particular, but I’m going to finish out the series all the way through Rilla of Ingleside.)  I’m also reading The Martian by Andy Weir.  (As for this one, given how good the last few SF books I’ve read are–I’ll be looking for the ones that people are buzzing.  So often they’re over-written, techno-babble bullshiz which is hard to wade through to find the story.  But, like with all good books, the genre doesn’t really matter.  End of days, suspense, murder mystery, romance, or cheesy noir / fantasy books–well written books sell themselves despite their setting.)

Literary Theory, who knew I even thought about that stuff…

I don’t really think about literary theory.  Very often.

So, surprise!  I’m an English Major.  In fact, I have a Bachelor’s of Arts in English with a Professional Writing Certificate.  The reason why I try to read a classic novel a month is because of a promise that I made myself in college that even though I literally did not have sufficient time to finish reading all of the books then, I would eventually do so.  Or give it that old college try, mwa-mwah…..

Anyhoosen, for a person who regularly says be-tee-dubs and has been trying (sort of) to stop cursing for at least 5 years, I don’t think I would seem to be a person who generally thinks about literary theory.  This is actually true.  I don’t care about literary theory. I read about it and found it mildly interesting and massively irritating in college, but it wasn’t something that I wanted to bring out into my regular life with me.  I love books for the magic they have of creating an escape, a world where you can experience ideas, places, magic, love, hatred, and horror.  If you can truly “sink into” a novel, you have just had a truly magical experience.

It is for this reason that though I love classics and I appreciate books that make you think and present different ideas and such, my first concern with a book isn’t its inherent “value” on my life.  It is whether that book will transport me somewhere that I will enjoy.  As a writer, I don’t care about feminist theory, changing the lives of readers, or teaching some moral concept.  I care about giving my readers the escape from their day to day lives which will renew and refresh them.

Like books do for me.

However, glimmers of memory have been hatching these last few days, rolling about in my head and making me think thoughts.  Particularly the one called “Reader-Resonse Theory.” Here’s the definition according to good ole wiki: Reader-response criticism is a school of literary theory that focuses on the reader (or “audience“) and their experience of a literary work, in contrast to other schools and theories that focus attention primarily on the author or the content and form of the work.”

Well, I can tell you that I have noticed that this is totally and completely true.  Most of the time, I think Literary Theory is ivory tower nonsense.  Just a way to torture undergrads with random theories they have to apply to books they would never, ever choose to read without an assignment.  Here, student, professors say with an evil gleam in their eye.  Read Don Quixote in the next 10 days and write me a 10 page essay (double-spaced, 1 inch margins, Times New Roman Size 12) using the New Historicism theory.  And then they cackle at the looks of horror and madness to overcome those otherwise capable adults sitting in that classroom.

When I was a girl, I read Anne of Green Gables (the first 6 books because I didn’t realize the last 2 were Anne books).  I LOVED those.  I loved the hijinks of Anne.  How she was always getting into trouble.  That near miss where she almost ended up being a helper in someone else’s house instead of staying with Marilla and Matthew.  Every time, it killed me.  Gilbert Blythe was certainly one of my first literary crushes.

As an adult, as part of my Popsugar Book Challenge, I decided to reread Anne of Green Gables.  In fact, the last two books for this challenge have been Anne and The Fault in Our Stars.  Which only matters because they had similar effects on me.  Hazel Grace–when I read her story last time, like with Anne, I read it identifying with the protagonist.  When I read the stories of Anne and Hazel Grace this time, I read from the perspectice of a changed life.  I’m not the little girl anymore.  One of the defining characters of my mind and heart is being a mother.  So, when I read the stories this time, I couldn’t help but notice how often Hazel Grace needs to know what happened to Anna’s Mother.  I thought about my own mother, but most often I thought about my kids.  About my sweet boy and wonderful daughters.  I wondered what their lives would have been if they had been born in 1905.  Or 1805.

At the end of Anne of Green Gables when Marilla is thinking back over the childhood of Anne–Marilla realizes that taking Anne in wasn’t something that was just charitable or right.  It change Marilla’s life in a positive and wonderful way.  Marilla was enriched and blessed because of the “charitable” thing she had done.  It was Marilla who was blessed.  And as I look at my life, I think AMEN sister, AMEN.

As a foster parent, I have had more than one person tell me I am a “saint.”  BULL CRAP I say.  Have you SEEN my kids?  They tell me I’m crazy for taking all three, as if they were kittens instead of children.  BULL CRAP.  I say.  Each of them is precious to me.  Each of them enrich my life.  Each of them are blessings for which I will never, ever stop being grateful.  It is me, in the morning, who gets to hear my oldest two playing together and laughing.  To see them looking out for the other.  It is me who has my kids runs up to me like I’m a rockstar instead of a middle-aged single girl of dubious looks and personality.  But not to them.  To them, I am precious and wonderful.  It is me who gets to hold them tight when they’re sad.  It is me who gets to do their hair in the morning and sit next to them on the couch and sing the Teen Titans theme song with them.

It is me who will get to watch them grow.  So, like Marilla and Anna’s Mom and Hazel Grace’s Mom, I can look at my life and think, I am so damn blessed.  I am so damn blessed.  I am not a saint or an angel or anything other than stupidly, wonderfully, insanely lucky.

Just so damn blessed.

And in this small, exquisite infinity, it is the children and connections of my life that make it worth living.  Something that I knew already but that was illustrated beautifully by my response to Anne of Green Gable’s Marilla and Hazel Grace’s mother.

~Amanda

ps I’m down to the “book my mom loves” on the Popsugar Challenge. I have about 92% of the Old Testament done and that last page can’t come soon enough.  As for my own challenge–I’m reading the rest of Anne’s story and fitting it in somehow.  Regardless, I’m on Anne’s House of Dreams, and I cried at work when baby Joy died.  Damn it. I remembered that she died from my childhood, but it didn’t matter in the least.  Weep, I did.

To the man in the green shirt and brown pants…

I see you.

Sometimes, it seems that I see you 37 times a day.  You and your groovy friends.

I see your friends “convincing” you to be the one to go down the drain or through the upper window because you’re the skinniest.  I see the way you never protest that Daphne is so slim she might be anorexic.  Clearly she is the one who should have to slither.

I see your quick thinking and wardrobe changes to save yourself from the machinations of those small-town bad guys.

I see your ability to communicate with your dog.  It’s nothing short of astounding.  Cleverness and training like that should be rewarded and acknowledged.  But it seems that no one even notices.

I see the way that insufferable ass with the red scarf leads you and your friends into trouble.  We better “investigate” he says.  And ignores your reasonable protests about visiting skull island or the haunted mansion or the dark tunnel.  Why is that your little group of friends comes across all these haunted places anyway?  Are you guys magnets for small town people enacting crimes?  Just why is it that all the local cops are so shoddy at their jobs anyhow? I see the way your so-called friends ignore that you just want to have some dinner with your dog.  But instead they seem unable to come up with more than a dog snack when they’re trying to convince you to get into the boat to lure in the ghost ship.  And you’re too kind to throw it in their faces to demand a sandwich before the ghosts drag your soul down to hell.

I see the way you get lumped in with your friends when there is outcry at the end of your adventures for you meddling ways.  But it wasn’t you.  It was never you who wanted to deliver the haunted knight’s armor.  Surely that’s the museum’s problem.  It was never you who cared why the fun park was running in the middle of the night.  Or why that truck was abandoned on the road.  It was always you who was willing to go the long way around to avoid the scary short cut or move onto the next hotel after the eyes in the paintings started following you around.  

I see you finally getting your snacks at the end.  Having to fight off your dog for your bologna, hot sauce, scooby snack, ice cream and anchovy sandwich stack.  All the while knowing it’s just a matter of time before your chums lead you into yet another haunted pier/ castle/ fun park/ forest.  Shove that whole thing in your mouth, yo, and consider another.

It just might be your last.

~Amanda

ps Finished Anne of Green Gables.  It made me cry like 7 times.  Now onto Anne of Avonlea.  I’ll make that fit into my own personal Popsugar Book Challenge–probably.  Regardless, I think I’ll be reading the first few of those.   Anne of Green Gables also qualifies as my August Classic.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

So, this book….

This book….

This glorious, wonderful book.

I didn’t think that I would love it.  This is how Station Eleven came into my life.  I work in as a Fraud Analyst.  My group works many systems and different shifts.  There’s a person who has worked with us for a while.  I don’t really remember how long because he worked different systems and different shifts from me this whole time.  Except, a few weeks ago, he was moved closer to where I sit.  Like kids in grade school, I suddenly became more aware of him.  And by that, I mean I became aware that he was a reader.

Now, I love readers.  I am fascinated by them.  I love to figure out what people like to read.  Before I was a fraud analyst, I worked in an email customer service department, and every time I trained someone, I’d ask them what their favorite book was.  I absolutely and totally judged a person by their favorite book.

Sometimes the answer was something I knew.  One person told me they only read the modern classics.  Pretentious I thought.  Another person reeled off a random mix.  Candide, The Time Traveler’s Wife, who knows what else.  We became great friends.  Another person told me their favorite book was The Other Boelyn (sister? wife? is that all of it?)  I rolled my eyes since why read a story that you already know the end to?  SPOILER ALERT:  Anne Boelyn doesn’t make it.  This person is one of my favorite people ever and my very best friends ever.  I actually intend on reading The Other Boelyn at some point because I think–she’s pretty awesome.  She has great taste in friends (me!), so I should probably at least give it a chance.  For the people who didn’t read, they  might as well not even talk to me after I trained them.  But almost everyone has a favorite book.

Anyhoosen, back to random co-worker.  He was reading Wool by Hugh Howey, which I read and loved.  So we were talking books.  I can’t remember how, I can’t remember why, but he told me his mom really liked this random book called Station Eleven and he was thinking of reading it soon.

I was intrigued by this mom out there recommending books to her grown son, so I read it.  Not so much because of the premise or the blurb or the cover.  But because a random mom recommended it to her grown son, and he was excited to read it.

She was right.  It was excellent.  I love so much about it. I love how they refer to some of the characters by their position in the symphony.  The Viola.  The Conductor.  The Sixth Guitar.  I love how Shakespeare and Star Trek were woven in the story.  I loved the word choice, the locations, the way she described how someone felt. I love how it switched from POV and timeline to POV and timeline, and it always felt like the right choice.

I am smitten with Station Eleven.

As a writer, I’m smitten with the ability of Emily St. John Mandel to write the story with the construction methods and voices that she used.  This chick has SKILLZ, YO.

Anyhoosen, I think you should check it out.

~Amanda

ps, up next is Anne of Green Gables for the real Popsugar Book Challenge.  It’s my book that’s more than 100 years old.  And my August classic.  Because, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but it’s freaking August in a couple days.  Possibly tomorrow.  I can’t be sure.

July Reads

General update:  I’m about done writing Persuaded to Love (at least until it gets edited).  This is my third Kendawyn book and will be novel length.  I love writing in the Kendawyn world and Persuaded to Love sets up a companion novel Humbled by Love and the beginning of additional stories with Hugh and Alice from Compelled by Love.  I would have been done by now, but life likes to keep me jumping.

Sometimes, when I tell people I write–they act like it’s this amazing thing.  I could never do that, they say.  Well, as I think about the last few years, I think differently. I think you *can* do it.  If you want to, you can.  A human being can do just about anything that they set their minds to.  It just takes determination.  I have written several things that I’ve published and several million words I’ve never published.  I’m not the greatest of writers, but I am determined.  I enjoy writing.  I enjoy the hope of it.  The fun of it.  The discovery and the work.  It’s fun.  It’s hard.  For me, it’s worth giving up television and most movies.  It’s worth giving up vacation time and sleep.  I love it.  That is all.

As far as my reading has gone, I have continued to read a bunch of things I wouldn’t normally have read.  And I have continued to be glad I did.  In July, I read:

The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K Le Guin

Wayward by Blake Crouch

The Last Town by Blake Crouch

Starship Grifters by Robert Kroess

The Girl with All the Gifts by M. R. Carey

Armada by Ernest Cline

Tiny Titans

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

A Memory of Light by Robert Jordan

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

Currently, I am reading: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Of these books, unquestionably, The Girl with all the Gifts and The Girl on the Train were the best.  And they are also unquestionably books that I wouldn’t have purchased if I had just been wandering a book store to find a book and not deliberately stretching myself as a reader.

Maybe you should try stretching yourself too.  I don’t really care.  Do what you want.

~Amanda

ps I still have 3 books to go with the Popsugar Book Challenge.  Station Eleven is not one of those books.  If you have thoughts about that, shut it.

Yesterday….

I was teasing my darling son about his birthday presents.  I pulled the same trick on him that my Dad used to pull on me.  I told my son he was getting a trash can.

I told him he was getting a princess hoodie with the crown built right in.  His very own roll of toilet paper.  He knew I was teasing, but he responded just how I wanted him to.  Just how I probably responded to my dad when he told me I was getting used toilet paper.  Yes, you read that right.  My son squealed and told me he wanted all the toys.  He made a sad face.  He frowned when I laughed at him and told him how he could use his very own trash can to pick up all the trash and put it away.  “Think how useful it will be,” I said.  He whined.  I laughed.  He frowned.  He frowned with a little twitch on the corner of his mouth that said he knew I’d actually bought toys, and he was pleased that I had.  Then we talked about cupcake flavors (all chocolate please, with Super Man rings and Teen Titans too.)

My dad was a lot of things.  He was busy, busy, busy.  Flying jets, playing racquet ball.  He was a Colonel in the Air National Guard when he had a stroke.  He worked full time at that and being a pilot for Horizon Airlines.  Just think about that–two full time jobs, flying a wide range of planes.  So, you see what I mean when I said he was busy.  He was outstanding.  One of my earliest memories was tucking my hand in his back pocket, so I wouldn’t lose him while he sped along.

My dad was the dad the other kids wanted.  He was kind.  I don’t remember a spank or even much yelling.  He would say, he was ashamed of me, and I’d burn.  Either with shame because he was right or indignation when I felt he was wrong.  He was a good man.  He believed in his country, in his family, in God and goodness. He was generous.  He was a tease.  He had a shocking sweet tooth which I’ve inherited.  When I had my Feisty Pants, she’d run home to him because he always had a chocolate for her.  When I flew to see him before he passed away, there was a package of peanut butter cups in the fridge.  By package, I mean the kind that 7-11s have on the shelf.  The box with full-size peanut butter cups inside.  Because he could.  So he did.

Sometimes grief sneaks up on you.  When you’re simply teasing your son.  Or when you catch sight of a Rocky and Bullwinkle figure on amazon.  Or when you realize that your Dad never met your son or your youngest daughter.  It sneaks up and makes you sad in a way that is painful and good. Because even though he’s gone–he was outstanding.  And I’m smart enough to know how blessed I was to have him.  He was an excellent in many ways.  As a father, a counselor, a human being.  He was an excellent friend.  He was an amazing grandfather.

He liked cokes, and plain potato chips.  Peanut butter cups were his favorite candy–but he’d eat anything sweet.  He liked yellow cake with chocolate frosting, and he wanted to lick the bowl every time.  He loved to decorate sugar cookies with his grandchildren.  He probably loved that evening more than the kids did.  I could make 150 cookies during the holidays, and it wouldn’t be enough.  If we had baked goods, he was going to eat them.  If you’d make him an apple pie, or blueberry or whatever, he’d always tell you seriously that he had a “hankering” for another flavor.  He told you that your roast was salty.

He adored his mother.  He was an excellent pilot.  He flew lots of jets, and he flew them well.  He was amused by Rocky Bullwinkle.  He called me Princess and my sister, Pumpkin.  He loved his boys and nothing made him happier than being surrounded by family.  After he had a stroke, he’d dreamt about flying again.  He played Civilization over and over again.  He’d play it literally all night long in his 60s like he was 14 again and it was summer vacation.  He loved to play games with his grandkids.  He loved the board game Sorry and I remember him playing it with me over and over again.  He taught me to play cribbage the way his Dad played (aka with mean cheating rules), and he cackled every time he pulled one of his Dad’s stunts on you.

He loved my mother.  So much.

He owned the shiz out of his stroke.  They told him he’d never walk or work again.  And he did both of those things.  He took on the worst kind of stroke you could have and he worked, drove, served in our church, he traveled.  He was a grandfather, father, husband when they told him it was a miracle he was even breathing.  He was, in fact, badass.

HIs favorite book was the Count of Monte Cristo.  He loved stupid movies.  He loved going to the movies.  He liked steak and potatoes.  He liked oysters on the half-shell.  If my mom made cinnamon rolls, he was in heaven.  He made this recipe of fudge that was outstanding and he guarded the recipe like it was manna direct from heaven.  He loved his dogs and and got irritated whenever they needed their hair cut because they looked too much like a curly froo-froo dog when their hair was curling all over the place.

He was forgiving.  He never stopped believing that each of his children were amazing.  The six of us–we could do anything wrong.  Ever.  And it wouldn’t ever change the level of how much he adored us, how much he could forgive, and that he would fight for kids to his dying breath.  In fact he did.

It gives me so much comfort to know that though he’s gone–he lives on.  I can’t help but know this for in the time he’s been gone, I’ve felt him in my life.

And it gives me so much comfort to think of my little son whose his tender heart that carries a lot of hurt.  And his sweet story telling mind that has an imagination as wide as the universe and currently absorbed by bears and heroes and forever daddies.  And then I know that my Dad–who never got to meet my son–looks over him.  Two weeks before my son came to my house, my parents moved across country.  And before I had the freedom to travel with my children, my Dad passed away.  But that doesn’t matter–because my Dad is a the kind of Dad who will look over his children and grandchildren.  If you can work on their behalf in the next life, and I believe you can, he is doing that for us.  He’s loving us–because the kind of love my dad gave me is forever.

I miss him.

~Amanda

The Girl With All the Gifts

I listened to this audio book over the last couple of days.  These are the things I will tell you.

1.)  I liked it.

That is all.

It qualifies as the “something unexpected” on my own personal pop sugar book challenge.  Telling you anything else could ruin it.  So we’re done here.

Also, this blog post is me avoiding writing.  It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve written and a good month and half since I’ve been able to really, really dig in.  Which is entirely frustrating to me.  The problem is:  Every Single Time I have to “go back” to writing, it’s a challenge.  It’s like starting a new research paper for that college class where the blank page stares at you so long it has it has its own personal force.  That force is staring at me right now.  Mocking me.

It has a mean, nasty chuckle and that blank page is doing it right now.  I’m about 15k words into Persuaded to Love and another 15k or so into Rose Red.  Probably more on Rose.  And yet, here I am…staring into that (not) blank but evil page which is mocking me.

What’s even stupider:  I know that if I just read through those books I have partially written and gloss them up along the way….I’ll be totally back into my groove.  What’s stupider than that…I have given myself this goal of getting both of those to my editor by the end of August.  Something I know I can do.  But not if that evil, mocking, rude, nasty, ever-present blank page wins.

The end.

~Amanda

ps I have no idea what I’m going to read next.  I’m still partially though the Old Testament for the “book my mom loves” and Madame Bovary for the “book originally written in another language.”  Also we’re still working on Tiny Titans Volume 1 for the “graphic novel.”  I have about 3 more on the original pop sugar book challenge, but they’re all ones that are better digested in smaller chunks.  I think it’s like….a book you never finished (aka didn’t want to finish).  A book that’s more than 100 years old (not really a  problem but I don’t want to double up on classics, so Madame Bovary has to go first.  I can’t remember what else….but a couple of things that aren’t as fun.

Popsugar Book Challenge update:

I have six books left to go.  Out of 52….last year I might have read 50 books.  The lowest of my life since I could read, I am sure.

Which is surprising.  And I find that this random book challenge was something that I have utterly and completely enjoyed.  I found books that were simply delightful.  I found an author that I adore (Larry Correia).  I read books that I have intended to read for quite sometime.  I have completely stretched this year with my tastes.  I absolutely loved Grapes of Wrath and everything else I’ve touched by Steinbeck.

Which is to say….I’ve made my own, similar, book challenge.  I’ll list it below.  I don’t have the goal of finishing it by the end of the year.  It’s longer than the first book challenge.  It’s simply to keep me stretching with my reading.  I still intend to keep reading a classic a month.  Even though I missed May.  What I’m saying is that, for now, I’ll be reading off of a random, arbitrary list of books for the fun of it.  I can’t tell you why I enjoy it other than I’m a freak.  But here is my new list:

Amanda’s Popsugar Book Challenge

A Book with a Title that Makes You Smile:

Reread the first book you can remember reading:

Read your first “favorite” book:

Finish a series or trilogy that you have started and never finished:

A Murder Mystery:

A book with a mouse:

A friend’s favorite book:

A book with an appealing title:

A book set in a fantasy land:

A book set in Egypt:

A book about something that interests you but you wouldn’t normally read:

A book with a protagonist that has your same first name:

A book from your teenage years:

A book you remember distinctly from your childhood or you read over and over again:

Reread your very favorite book:

Read a book based on a myth or fairy-tale:

Read a pulp novel:

A classic horror novel:

A book that’s been on your to read list for a while:

Read a fatty classic novel:

Read a book you feel you should:

Read a classic novel from another country or culture:

Read a book set in a piece of history that interests you:

Read another Pulitzer Prize winner:

Read a Newberry Award or Honor book:

Read a Hugo Award Winning Book:

Read a book that makes you smile:

Read a Coming of Age Book:

Read a book you think will be difficult to read:

Read a modern classic:

Read a classic children’s book you didn’t read as a child:

Read a classic science fiction novel:

A book set in the 1910s:

A book set in the 1920s:

A book set in the 1930s:

A book set in the 1940s:

A book set in the 1950s:

A book set in the 1960s:

A book set in the 1970s:

A book set in the 1980s:

A book set in the 1990s:

A book about space:

A ghost story:

Read a gothic story:

Read a “chick-lit” book:

Read a book and then watch the movie:

Read a cheeseball SCI-FI novel:

Read a Memoir:

Read a Nonfiction Book:

Read an End of Days Book:

Read an ancient classic:

Read a cheesy adventure book:

A vampire book:

A spy book:

A pirate book:

A romance novel:

A fantasy novel:

A full series:

A trilogy:

Something unexpected:

An American classic:

A British Classic:

An Asian Classic:

A piece of old pulp:

An old mystery novel:

A children’s book:

A Young Adult Book:

A book with a female protagonist:

A book with a male protagonist:

A book with a child protagonist:

A book with an elderly protagonist:

Something massive:

Something whimsical:

Something scary:

Something sad:

Something fanciful:

Something happy:

Anyhoo, I’ll be reading this while I finish up the first challenge.  I’m reading Madame Bovary currently.  I plan on throwing in, perhaps, Don Quixote and the last of the Wheel of Time.  So, those will take forever to make myself plow through.

~Amanda

ps Frozen Fever can now be pre-ordered.  Hallelujah.  Though Teen Titans have come to my house to the enjoyment of us all.

Morbid thoughts…

So at the end of The Raven Boys…

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SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!

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The friends are digging a grave together.  This part of the book totally made me tear up–which is not what you’d think would happen.  But there you have it.  Maggie Stiefvater is brilliant.  But, as I finished the book yet again–I was driving home.  And was, therefore, STUCK YET AGAIN IN THE ABYSS AND HORROR OF PORTLAND TRAFFIC.

Alas.

Anyhoosen, so, I was thinking about the ending of Raven Boys and I was tearing up and then laughing at myself for tearing up.  And…I was pondering the type of friend you would, unreservedly dig a grave with.

I mean–if you killed someone and weren’t going to turn yourself in–which of your friends would you call?  Obviously real-life you would 1) never kill anyone and 2) turn yourself in if there was a terrible accident.  But we’re not talking about real-life you.  We’re talking about the if-then version of you that lives in the fictional world.  The same you that gets your Hogwarts Letter and changes into a clever little fox during the full-moon and can fly.  That you.

Who would they call?

It’s possible I have a list going in my head of who I’d call.  It’s a terrible risk.  Make the wrong choice and you’re doubly screwed.

Anyhoo–idle, morbid thoughts by Amanda.

~Amanda

ps I am rocking the Popsugar Book Challenge and expect to be done in the next month or so.  I’m currently reading Madame Bovary and planning to start tomorrow Wayward by Blake Crouch.  I hear that one got turned into a T.V. Show.  Should be a trip if you see it and they follow the plot of the first one.