booktastic

I had a very nice Thanksgiving, thank you. Mr. Hall had a rare day off and we relaxed for the first part of the day (well, he relaxed: I baked two pies and a turkey and sweet potatoes while preparing mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, fried squash and buns… not that I’m complaining. I think I enjoy cooking more and more…) ate around three, then put up our Christmas tree. (Yes, a bit early, but, well, he’d gotten a deal on a tree…)

I had yesterday off and took it easy… Well, mostly easy; I had a lot of Thanksgiving dishes to wash and Christmas cards to address. Today I had to get back on the ball and run my usual weekend errand: grocery shopping for the coming week.

I also made a library trip today. At long last I had to return  How to Write and Market a Mystery Novel, and decided I would look for several mystery novels: the first “The Cat Who…” book (The Cat Who Could Read Backwards), the first Goldy Bear book (Catering To Nobody), the sequel to The Mistletoe Murder (the inexplicably titled Tippy-Toe Murders) and, finally, if possible, the sequel to The Beekeeper’s Apprentice - which I thought was Locked Rooms.

I was very annoyed. They didn’t have the first “The Cat Who…” book - but had about ten others. I thought about picking up the first Dick Francis novel, and carried that around for a while, but I don’t think that’s the kind of mystery I’m into right now and put it back. Then I went and looked for Tippy-Toe only to be disappointed in that respect as well - they had about six others, but not that one.

Then, since I was coming up short, I decided I would try a couple new authors. I browsed until I found things that looked appealing; I picked up an Anne Perry novel called The Face of A Stranger (which I could only find in a three-book anthology with its first two sequels, unfortunately). Then I went back to the “The Cat Who…” books and looked at them for a while, trying to figure out if maybe I had just missed the first book… I hadn’t. But next to it I saw books by Rita Mae Brown that looked like more of what I was looking for. I did some research, discovered Wish You Were Here was the first in that series, and almost couldn’t find that… until I found it, also in a three-book anthology with its first two sequels.

I took this picture with my phone to illustrate a fact: namely, that these two books are huge. Don’t forget - I’m on foot. Anything I take with me when I go places, I have to carry. This makes the enormous Rita Mae Brown book especially problematic because I’m not sure it will even fit in my purse. The size of both of them also necessitated me not picking up that many other books at the library today.

However, I did find one of the books I wanted - I located Catering To Nobody. What a relief to actually find one of the books that I was interested in picking up! Plus, it was a conveniently-sized paperback.

Then I remembered that I had also come to look for Locked Doors, and went looking for it, and found it! Then I suddenly experienced a moment of doubt: what if I was wrong? What if it wasn’t the direct sequel? I had turned down several likely novels today because I didn’t want to read them out of order - and I especially didn’t want to read these books out of order. So I flipped open to the front of the dust jacket, hoping it would begin with something like, “In this second installment of the Mary Russel series…”

AND PROMPTLY HAD AN ENORMOUS PLOT DEVELOPMENT RUINED FOR ME!!! I was so peeved. And NO, it WASN’T even the direct sequel to The Beekeeper’s Apprentice: that honor goes to the much more interestingly-titled A Monstrous Regiment of Women (which the library didn’t have, by the way). So I didn’t get the book I wanted, and now I’ve had a plot development of the series spoiled!! DRAT! DARN! HECK! Why on earth would they put something like that on the dust jacket of the book? Why?

Oh well, it was something that I’d anticipated anyway - but even so, it’s annoying to have it spoiled. So I came home from the library in a really bad mood. Mr. Hall was working today so I didn’t have anybody to brighten my day, so I directed my anger at the remainder of the dirty dishes in the sink. Now the sink is significantly cleaner and I feel somewhat better. Plus, I had a new bookmooch book in the mail when I got home - The Mysterious Affair at Styles, the first Hercule Poirot story. Thank goodness for another book that I don’t have to feel bad about reading because it’s out of proper order! (Oddly, though, it’s another anthology book: rather inexplicably paired with the last Hercule Poirot story, Curtain, which I won’t be able to read until I track down all the other Hercule Poirot novels… *sigh*).  — Mrs. Hall

P.S. I forgot to look for “The Mysterious Benedict Society.” Drat! However, since I technically came home with seven books, I feel somewhat vindicated.

Very odd: this morning when I got on the bus, the girl sitting in front of me whipped a book out of her bag in a surreptitious manner and started to read it. She even glanced over her shoulder as if she didn’t want people looking at her book.

However, totally not meaning to, I caught sight of the cover of her book as she opened it. It was called “The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey” and had a rather interesting cover. It was intriguing enough that I very nearly asked the girl about the book… but, well, the look she had given me indicated she didn’t want to be bothered about her book, and I’m not really all that together first thing in the morning, so before about five minutes had passed I had forgotten about it entirely.

Imagine my surprise when I got home and was looking for something totally unrelated (a particular 50’s rock compendium CD) on Amazon.com, and found, among my recommendations, The Mysterious Benedict Society . I’ve never even heard about this book before, and yet had it mysteriously brought to my attention twice today.

… Okay, that’s not exactly a harmonic convergence, but I thought it was interesting. I think I should check this book out.

In other news, I was at Borders today doing a rather weak attempt at Christmas shopping, and saw a book that looked quite interesting: My Lobotomy, a guy writing about the odd circumstance behind his being given a lobotomy at age 12, and how his life has turned out. (I didn’t buy it because it was new, and anyway, I wasn’t really supposed to be buying books for myself.) Incidentally, Bookmooch doesn’t have either of these books right now, which is hardly surprising: the number of books on Bookmooch drops drastically after “Christmas shopping” time comes around. Things should pick up again in January after everybody tries to unload unwanted presents.

Okay, this year I have had a propensity for picking up series mysteries - and starting with the wrong one. This one wasn’t entirely my fault. I was looking for a book to download and listen to from the Chicago Public Library website - I was hoping to try one of those “The Cat Who…” books, but the earliest one in the series they had was 13 or something, and that’s just a bit too late in the series. Finally, after clicking through several pages of “If you like this book, you will also like..” I saw this, and there was no indication of whether it was the first, third or seventh in the series.

So I looked it up. Turns out The Cereal Murders was the third in the series. I remembered this book from a previous encounter: I was in the basement of Powell Books in Hyde Park Chicago (a marvelous used book store: I recommend it. It seems to go on forever) looking for inexpensive things to read, and saw this on a shelf. I contemplated it because the cover appealed to me, but I wasn’t really into mysteries at the time, and put it back.

I was reminded of that when I was on the library website, and decided to download the book. After all, it was only third in the series, that wasn’t so bad.

It’s an audiobook. (I apologize to those of you who don’t consider listening to audiobooks as “reading” - it’s really my only option at work, since if I sat there at the computer with a novel in hand my bosses might get suspicious). The thing about audiobooks is, I have begun to be of the notion that a lot of how much one enjoys an audiobook is due to how good the reader is. If the reader doesn’t quite work for you, it winds up being very distracting from the book. On a recent audiobook, I was distracted the every time she tried to do a “male” voice. All her “men” sounded exactly the same - because it was just her, the reader, doing a gruff, gravelly voice. Well, not all men are gruff and gravelly.

However, the reader for this book was very good. She didn’t try to “sound like” a man when she read the male parts - she just changed her tone or inflection, which worked beautifully. The only part where I was distracted by the author herself was when she had to re-enact someone’s scream and death gurgle (which she did quite well, I might add. It did make me laugh, but just because it was unexpected)… but, if that’s how it was written, that’s how she had to do it, so I don’t fault her that one.

Anyways, I suppose I’d better talk about the book itself. I enjoyed it! It’s the story of a caterer who becomes involved with a bizarre higher-education-related murder when, at an event she is catering, she finds the dead body of the valedictorian. Our heroine is Goldy Bear (yeah, yeah, perhaps the naming of characters in the book didn’t always work for me, but what can you say? That’s a minor issue), and the story is told from her viewpoint, first person (which helped the audiobook, I might add). The mystery was enough a focal-point of the story that I didn’t spend a whole lot of time wondering when she was going to get back to mystery solving… And the climax of the book was the solving of the mystery, and it was exciting. Although perhaps I wasn’t paying as much attention to the mystery element as I should have because I was distracted by another element.

Our heroine is a caterer, and spends the majority of the book talking about food. Manicotti, extreme nachos, chocolate dipped biscotti, slices of sourdough bread slathered with pesto… *Passes out, revives self several minutes later and goes on.* I was sitting there at work listening to this book and literally salivating. Now, I’m not sure how it would have come across if I’d read the book: there’s a certain amount of your reaction which is dictated by a reader when you listen to the audiobook rather than reading the novel itself. It could be she just made it all sound really good with her tone and inflection. But I can say this: I wanted to go home and cook. As an added bonus, this book includes the actual recipies for the most prominent foods mentioned. I didn’t listen to them (honestly, what fun is listening to a recipe? “Two cups flour. Two teaspoons cinnamon. One teaspoon sugar…”) - but now I want to buy (or bookmooch, or library) a copy so that I can check those recipes out.

So if you like food and enjoy cooking and reading mysteries, I can recommend this novel. I finished it at work today and promptly came home and made Alfredo pasta from scratch, and served it over some store-bought noodles that my Mother assured me were almost as good as “home made” - and they were. All and all, today brought both good reading and eating experiences. — Mrs. Hall

I would like to claim that there is some intensely literary reason why I am choosing to currently boycott the Twilight books - but, in all honesty, it’s just because they are too popular right now. They have become popular to the point of obnoxiousness, so I hereby decree that I will not be reading these books.

If I were to read them now, it would only be because everyone else in the world is reading them. And you know what? That’s no reason to read a book. You should read a book because it’s educational, enlightening, funny, entertaining - or in some way interesting to you - NOT because a billion teenage girls have purchased a book and are literature-gasming over the main character.

Oh, I read Harry Potter. Well, that is to say, I tried to read Harry Potter (twice) but I couldn’t get into them. I mean, they weren’t terrible: they were cute and written in a mildly amusing fashion… They just didn’t do anything for me. I’ve read books about wizard schools that were much funnier and more original (*cough* Terry Pratchett *cough*). I have a feeling that this is going to be the same sort of thing.

The Twilight books are apparently focused on a romance element (hence, the appeal to teenage girls and ostensibly women in general). I know a good number of girls in their twenties who are reading these books and professing a strong liking for them - my sister-in-law among them. Who knows? Maybe I would like them. I’ve enjoyed a Gothic romance in my time - Wuthering Heights was my favorite book for several years.

However, I highly doubt that this is a Gothic romance in the classic sense of the term, and is simply a book about a teenager lusting after a handsome, mysterious boy with magical powers. Let me guess - he’s a loner with the soul of a poet, and only she really understands him. (Well, we’ve never heard that story before, Have We?)

Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure Twilight is so much more than that. I can already hear the outraged cries of “No, you don’t understand - it really is good!” Perhaps it’s an “He’s an evil vampire, I’m a nice person, we can never be together,” or it’s a “Vampire? What’s a vampire? Wow, this boy is really exciting and handsome and - has fangs - and is sucking my blood… Hey, wait a second. Get away from me! But wait, you’re a loner with the soul of a poet…” or maybe it’s “He’s a vampire, and that’s cool, but I kind of don’t want to be a vampire yet so that we can drag the story out for another ten books.” (Please forgive the sarcasm, Twilight-lovers. I may be just a trifle jaded).

Now, let me make this clear: I do not have a problem with films, books, etc. that happen to feature vampires. In my time have enjoyed quite a number of films that featured vampires prominently; for instance, I recently had a good time watching Hammer’s The Horror of Dracula and The Brides of Dracula. 

But I do have a problem with people re-fashioning evil things and telling you that they’re not “evil” - they’re “cool”. You know what? Nothing is cool about vampirism. It’s distinctly un-cool. Know how I can prove this? Vampirisim suddenly becomes a whole lot less cool if the guy who appears in your room during the night and is leaning over you in the darkness looks like this. I somehow don’t see a lot of fan girls getting wobbly-at-the-knees over him (no offense, guy). I’m concerned about evil things being portrayed as attractive and glamorous (even a kind of silly, implausible, over-the-top evil like vampirism) because if enough evil things slide into your subconscious via interesting, attractive routes, you begin to get the subtle sense that evil is much more interesting and fun than good… Perhaps evil isn’t so evil after all… Maybe there is no such thing as evil.

This is a terrible, terrible danger. Would you want the person in charge of your bank account to believe there’s no such thing as evil? …. your doctor? … daycare provider? … President? That may seem like a rather dire, over-the-top scenario on my part, but you can never be too vigilant where evil is concerned.

All of this said…. Perhaps all my negative thoughts about the Twilight series ARE completely unfounded and this is a totally original, fascinating story - and not at all Buffy, The Vampire Slayer fashioned for fan girls rather than fan boys.

But… the simple truth is… I really just don’t want to read this book. Like I said, I would only be reading it because everybody else seems to like it…  But what I’ve heard about it just doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t think vampires are cool, I’m too old to find teenage boys attractive, I detest people making evil things appear glamorous - and I’m really not a romance reader or even much of a gothic novel reader.

And if I did pick up the first of these books and attempt to read it - and if it turns out to be any of the things that I suspect it is - I would just have to throw it against the wall, smack myself in the head and say, “Why did you try to read this? You knew what it was going to be!” - then return it to the library and resume my boycott.

So I think I’ll just give it a miss. That would be much simpler. — Mrs. Hall

Yesterday I got an exciting piece of mail: the Edward R. Hamilton’s Bargain Books Catalog. This may not seem all that exciting to you. But I will have you know: this catalog was the highlight of my life as a teenager. 

Yes, I probably was a pretty boring teenager. But the Edward R. Hamilton Bargain Books catalog isn’t! Hundreds of remainder books, priced to sell (usually between $3.95 and $7.95 with some exceptions), with a flat shipping rate of $3.50!!

(I think it was $2.50 when I was a teenager, but $1.00 isn’t that much of a hike when you consider how much postage costs have gone up in the past fifteen years…)

I haven’t really looked through one of these catalogs in years; I was distracted with school, getting married, having a job, not having money, and all those other great “grown up” things. However, like I said, I got one in the mail yesterday and it was Friday night (woo!) so I thought, “What better way to spend a Friday night than to spend it slowly paging through a Bargain Books catalog with a pen in hand?”

Bargain Books has changed a bit since I was a teen. For one thing, it’s an actual catalog now and has a color cover: when I used to receive it, it was in thick, B&W newspaper format. And as I mentioned, the flat shipping rate has gone up slightly. Plus, now they apparently sell DVDs too.

However, it’s still a delightful cross-section of former-bestsellers, never-was-bestsellers, never-heard-of-its and what-the-hell-somebody-actually-published-this-type selections. And now it has DVDs.

I would say that, in general, the prices are a bit higher than when I used to spend my afternoon sheafing through this thing. I saw more books above the $7.95 mark than before - but, honestly, what isn’t more expensive than it was ten years ago? All and all, these are still bargains and if you actually take the time to look through this catalog, you’re going to find some things that you want. Check out their website and request a catalog (there are extra shipping costs when you buy online for some reason, so getting the catalog is worth it). It’s free and fun and you’ll be glad you did. – Mrs. Hall

P.S. I’ve decided I’m not going back to “The Jane Austen Book Club” - the book simply wasn’t pulling me in, and it was an effort to read it, so I’m just going to put it on Bookmooch. So much for that one! Right now I’m working on that Joseph Campbell book and “The Cereal Murders” by Diane Mott Davidson…

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After that particularly heavy book last book, I definitely felt that something lighter was in order for my next reading experience.

But I didn’t put a whole lot of thought into it. On the way out the door, I wound up snatching the first thing off the shelf that I hadn’t already read all the way through - Myths to Live By by Joseph Campbell.

I haven’t read this book all the way through before (despite starting to do so once or twice) because the beginning of this book appears to be simply a rant against religion. All religions. The Bible, the Koran, the Vedas and everything:  apparently totally made up and fakey with no basis at all in fact and people who believe in them are being primitive and stupid and holding back progress (according to Joseph Campbell).

Hence the fact that when trying to read this book in the past, I usually put it down after the first couple pages. I mean, why on earth would I want to read a book that literally calls me stupid? It would be one thing if it were even decent arguments against religion (if there is such a thing); instead, it’s simply “we haven’t found  archaeological evidence for such-and-such at this point; therefore, such-and-such never happened.”(Ruling out any future archaeological discoveries, of course. And let’s not even discuss the question of whether consensus on world events between wholly unrelated cultures — such as the Israelites and the American Indians — is a form of evidence. But that’s getting into Velikovskian territory: Velikovsky was more or less the Anti-Campbell in this respect, and that’s a whole other story…)

Mr. Campbell obviously lived in a much simpler world. (A world where my father, as a teenager consulting his high school guidance counselor, was told that there was no point in studying to become a paleontologist because “all the dinosaur bones have been dug up already.”) They hadn’t found hard evidence yet, so it didn’t happen. He doesn’t even take into account that some so-called “myths” had actually been at least partially substantiated by archaeological finds even at the time of the publication of this book (I’m thinking in particular of how stories about Troy were considered mythic… until they found evidence of Troy). And let’s just ignore all the interesting findings in the field of Biblical Archaeology in the last forty years. A literal reading of the Bible is silly to Mr. Campbell (how could Noah possibly have fit two of ALL THE ANIMALS IN THE WORLD onto a boat?? PSHAW! A child could see through that one…) so it’s all completely false. Yes, Mr. Campbell. You sure got me on that one. Boy, is my face red.

On this reading, I was determined to get past all this stuff in the first couple pages. Once I read on, past the section where Mr. Campbell is simply bad-mouthing Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and every other religion under the sun, I got to his best known thesis: “What I would suggest is that by comparing a number [of myths] from different traditions, one might arrive at an understanding of their force, their source and possible sense. For they are not historical. …They speak, therefore, not of outside events but of themes of the imagination. And since they exhibit features that are actually universal, they must in some way represent features of our general racial imagination, permanent features of our human spirit - or, as we say today, of the psyche… about which, in fact, it will be necessary for us to know if our conscious minds are to be kept in touch with our own most secret, motivating depths”(p.24).

This is important, as he points out earlier, because apparently even though all religious and myths stories can “no longer be taken seriously by anyone with even a kindergarten education” (p.8), “in this there is serious danger. For… such literally read symbolic forms have always been - and still are, in fact - the supports of civilizations, the supports of their moral orders… With the loss of them there follows uncertainty, disequilibrium… there is nothing secure to hold on to, no moral law… there is everywhere in the civilized world  a rapidly rising incidence of vice and crime, mental disorders, suicides and dope addictions, shattered homes, impudent children, violence, murder and despair” (p. 9).

So, in short, religion is totally false… but knowing about it without believing it’s true, simply looking to it for its deeper psychological meanings, somehow keeps us from becoming dope addicts. (He does not explain why, if all religion is false, we should care whether or not we become dope addicts or not. There is no reason on earth why we should try to live good lives or be nice to each other if God doesn’t exist, which is of course a key flaw in the reasoning of those who would “evangelize” for Atheism. But, again, I’m digressing!)

He then analyzes several similar myths from different regions and says what they might say about the human psyche. Now, this is very interesting stuff; I have always been interested in both mythology and this form of reading between the lines for a deeper human meaning.

But, as you’ve probably guessed from my comments, I’m rather critical of his outright dismissal of a factual basis for religion and mythology. Can’t Jesus have existed and his story mean something symbolically to the innermost part of your brain?

The answer, of course, is that it can. The essence of Campbell’s theory - that mythological and religious stories have important meaning for the human psyche - totally works (and indeed, only has relevance) if there is factual and/or truthful underpinning for the stories in question.

And so, I’m going to make a concerted attempt to finish this book. Hopefully now I’ve gotten past the worst of his religion-bashing and am into the part that holds interest for me: comparative mythology.  This field really does fascinate me. And hopefully it’s not outright boring for you either, because if I do finish this book I will probably be discussing it again at some length. — Mrs. Hall

Now, if like me you were otherwise occupied in 2006 (we were completely tied up in our own problems at the time and not watching the news) you may have missed the incident related in Holding Fast: The Story of the Mt. Hood Tragedy. Three climbers became trapped on Mt. Hood and there was an intensive search for them, hoping to find them while they were still alive.

It didn’t work out that way.

This book was written by the widow of Kelly James, the man whose body was the first to be found. The second wife of Mr. James, Karen James relates how she met Kelly, their seemingly charmed relationship, their professional successes and Kelly’s hobby of climbing - and how it all led to that fateful day that he didn’t come home. Then she discusses the details of the incident itself, and its aftermath.

It’s somewhat hard to be objective about this book and discuss it from a reviewer’s standpoint because I found it so emotionally-charged. Plus, how do you criticize a woman discussing her husband’s death? Is there any way to discuss possible faults of this book without being a complete and utter jerk?

Let me try.

As I said, this book is so emotionally charged that it’s hard for me to get perspective on it. It’s very painful to read. I’m not saying that as a criticism of the style or technique of the writing - I’m saying that the story itself is painful. As a wife one of my greatest fears is the death of my husband; this story is all about that fear realized in one of the most horrible ways possible. In that aspect, the book is truly heart-wrenching and sickening. Instead of watching her writing style and structure, I was continually putting myself in her place - which I suppose actually is the mark of a well-written book.

Besides discussing the incident itself, the book is also about how Karen’s faith saw her through this difficult time and how she dealt with the tragedy. A network of good friends, supportive family - and deep personal faith - are what kept her going through the darkest times up until now, roughly two years later.

This brings me to a criticism of the book: I feel that this book may have been written a bit soon. Not that she hasn’t dealt admirably with the situation - but the tragedy only took place two years ago. Less than that, even. I think this book might have had a more fully fleshed-out feeling if the authoress had waited five, maybe ten years before writing it. A scant year and a half later, this book is more part of the healing process than a objective description of it.

Not to say that she doesn’t share some important insights about the nature of grief and how faith has carried her through the situation. However, the book has something of the air of an unfinished story, like an autobiography written by a thirty year-old. Yes, the stated focus of the book - the finding of Kelly, the initial grief and recovery of his family - is told. But this book is predominantly about Karen James’s grief and recovery; barely a year and a half later, although her faith has strengthened and the passage of time has somewhat softened her pain, it still has the feeling of an open wound. I would like to know what her perspective on faith and grief are in five years - or ten. I have a feeling it would be totally different. (Not opposite; just different.)

If you were one of the millions who was praying for the Mt. Hood climbers while the tragedy was unfolding, you may want to read this book. If you are looking for books about grief and faith, this would also be another book to examine. And I didn’t finish it feeling wretched as I thought I would - I felt somewhat uplifted. However, I would like to recommend that the publisher consider adding an afterword from the authoress five years down the line so that this story will have a fuller sense of completion. And that’s all I have to say about that. — Mrs. Hall

I have never read a James Bond novel. I had this fact hammered home to me last night. I didn’t post yesterday because Mr. Hall and I went to the movies with a friend last night and saw the new James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace. I can’t tell you if it’s faithful to the books or not, because I’ve never read one.

(I can tell you that I wasn’t all that thrilled with the movie, despite having been very excited about Casino Royale. B- at best. But I’ll talk about that at Moviephile.)

Perhaps it’s about time I read one. I’ve had opportunities in the past (I found a complete set of Ian Fleming’s James Bond books at a thrift store in my home town and purchased them for Mr. Hall for 50 cents each) - but never so much as opened one up. I guess it’s because they have an air of being real “guy” books… You know, like Tom Clancy novels. Very factual and detail-oriented, going into a great lot of detail about the “stuff” involved and about the hard facts of work history of the people in it… all while somehow totally avoiding anything that might potentially interest me in the story. Dry, dry, dry! (And having a semi-nude girl on the cover doesn’t do anything for me, either.) “Guy” books appeal to me almost as little as straight “Girl” books do. (Oh, we’re strong, now we’re crying, now we’re buying clothes, now guys are all stupid, now somebody’s getting divorced or married or dying of cancer, now we’re strong again!) Give me a nice middle-ground, people!

However, since I watch and enjoy the James Bond movies (with the exception of Quantum of Solace… and The World is Not Enough) maybe I should give one a go. I’d have to track down a copy of Casino Royale, which shouldn’t be that hard - I’m sure it was reprinted when the last movie came out. In any case, I’ll stick it in my virtual TBR pile and let it wait its turn. — Mrs. Hall

I finished In This Mountain yesterday. Despite having decided twenty pages-in that this was going to be the first Jan Karon book that failed to capture my attention, I wound up being completely captured and spending almost my entire Sunday finishing this book. (Hense the fact that I didn’t post on here yesterday).

So kudos to Jan Karon; boo-dos to me.

And incidentally, I was wrong in my other post when I mentioned that this was the second-to-last book; it turns out that there are two more to read, Shepherds Abide and Light From Heaven… both of which I own. So It’s totally my call as to when I finish this series.  But I must admit I’m rather loath to finish it; I’ve had such a good time reading it. I’ll be rather sad when it’s all over.

My next book is going to be an unusual one for me: Holding Fast - The Untold Story of the Mount Hood Tragedy. I must admit that this is not a book I would normally pick up - mainly due to the word “Tragedy” in the title. (I won’t deny that the majority of the time I’m reading for escapism purposes, so my favorite materials are somewhat prelapsarian in nature. I get more than enough “tragedy” from the newspapers.) However, I’ve just started reviewing books for the company that published this, and this was the most likely of the bunch that was offered… So there you have it.  More on this one when it’s finished. – Mrs. Hall

I had a new Bookmooch book arrive today: The Mitford Snowmen by Jan Karon. This story comes right between the 6th and 7th books, so it was okay for me to start reading it.

Okay, if you want a fast holiday read, this would be it. The glimpse of the cover online gave no hint that this isn’t really… uh… how can I put this without sounding insulting? … it’s not really a book.

Well, I mean, it is a book, technically. It has two covers and pages. But it’s not a novel, nor even a novella: this is a very short story stuck in a hardcover binding. It literally took me about five minutes to read.

Oh, it was cute and Christmassy and if you like Mitford books you’ll probably want to read it, but don’t request it - as I did - thinking that you are going to have an afternoon’s read on your hands. You’ll be lucky if you haven’t got it entirely read by the time you get it out of the box it came in. I can’t describe to you what the story is about - because my description would probably be longer than the book itself.

Granted - this item, upon examination, makes no bold claim to be a great big book. The front says, “The Mitford Snowmen: A Christmas Story.” Not “The Mitford Snowmen: A Christmas Tome“. So I suppose I can’t fault it on that. Really, I can’t fault it at all, except for the fact that it’s very, very short.

So… again…. if you want some fast Christmas reading, pick up The Mitford Snowmen. And then put it down five minutes later when you’re done reading it. — Mrs. Hall

P.S. My borrowed audio copy of Bleak House expires next week on the 19th… I don’t think I’m going to finish it by then. Maybe I’ll just request a Bookmooch copy of it and read it on my own time…