Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler

Audio book

I don't know why it's taken me this long to figure out that the best way to stop whining about how much time I feel I waste driving to and from work every week and not reading (which is what I'd rather do with that free time if I had it) is to listen to audio books.
Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald was on my TBR list for a few years, but never quiet committed the time to read it. I mean, I love Zelda a little more than her more famous husband and always have. I can't explain why, as I always felt that what I knew about her seemed unreliable.
So I suppose this is why I'm still on the fence about this novel - because it is a novel. There's nothing much wrong with that - in order to write a novel based off of someone who did exist in history, you do have to do some research first. And this novel did set out to show a new perspective of a person who many of us have made up our minds about before ever reading this book. Maybe that's something I struggle with - you may not. You may be happy to just read a nice story about a beautiful, dramatic couple. In which case, you will not be disappointed. It's no secret that Francis and Zelda got a long like cats and dogs for most of their marriage. Personally, I found that aspect to be a bummer. Francis and Zelda were so spirited, it almost became a battle over who can out-maneuver the other. All marriages are a struggle over power - there is no sugar coating that fact, deny it all you want. But sometimes those struggles aren't as depressing as the Fitzgerald's.

I am in no way an expert historian on the Fitzgerald marriage, so I can't say for sure how accurate this novel was. But I am glad I "read it."

Attachments by Rainbow Rowell

UGH!! This perfect book! Why did I wait so long to read you, perfect book? Beautiful book? Hilarious book? I know why - it's because by now I've already read everything by Rainbow Rowell (until Carry On hits shelves in a few weeks) and, though we all know I love reading, I especially love Rainbow Rowell. I'm one of those people who likes to save good things for the right time. I don't eat a chocolate bar all at once - it will survive a week. I can have some self-control like that.
But back to Attachments - it may be my favorite Rowell novel since Fangirl (which I originally read as a library copy, but have since sprung for my own special edition copy and will sometimes take down to reread). It may have something to do with the time and place I am in emotionally. Or, maybe it's because it's a really good romantic comedy that is actually both romantic and comedic. Something (a douchey friend once told me) is as rare as a unicorn and some people assume don't exist. Oh, it exists. The very first page had me cackling - the relationship between Jennifer and Beth are so like me and my work friend (of course, I'm the Beth here). And Lincoln... sweet cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure... awh, Lincoln. You know? I have to give it up to Rowell. She knows how to make normal people lusciously attractive - her romances are not built upon make-believe and fantasy. Attraction isn't about what everyone else sees as sexy, but what you as an individual sees. All of her novels are about that. All of her heroines are Plus Sized (in my head, anyway) and they are all beautiful and vibrant and human-sized. Her heroes tend to be average Joes, sometimes hayseeds, sometimes a little smelly with cow-licks, but always gentlemen. Neither of them present unrealistic expectations for either gender. Except, perhaps, that they always fall for those little quirks and nuances that go unnoticed or discussed by friends, family, and acquaintances. The way, I believe, attraction really works. In other words, it's not about what other people see, but what you see in a person.

In Attachments, Lincoln takes a new job on the night-shift of a local newspaper (this in in 1999, but apart from the pop culture references, there's nothing romanticized about it). His job is to monitor e-mails by reading them - it's not a secret, it's company policy. The e-mails sent between Beth & Jennifer, however, are entertaining and Lincoln decides not to turn them in. Especially now that he finds himself falling for Beth. But how does a gentle giant, awkward turtle like Lincoln breach the subject to Beth? A woman he's never officially met?

It's reminiscent of You've Got Mail, my favorite movie of all time. I highly, hugely recommend it. I see that pitiful 3.97 rating on GoodReads and completely rebuke it. I'm stingy with my stars, but I definitely gave it 5. My other two Rainbow Rowell Reviews are here: Eleanor & Park   Landline

Dune by Frank Herbert: An Impression

I don't write reviews for books that are considered classics by a remarkable group of the reading population. But there's so many books in the world, we can't always read them hot off the presses, and sometimes we get to them late. In my case, 50 years late.
Yes, I finally got around to reading the cult classic Dune. This isn't going to be a real review, obviously, because I'm not qualified. But does it stand up to the test of time? You know, I've always had pockets of friends who were a little bit, more or less, obsessed fanboys of this series. Suddenly, now that I've read the book and I'm so excited about it I can't seem to find any of them. Obviously the hype is gone, but jeebus. So that's the predicament I'm in right now. I'm overflowing with opinions and discussion questions about this book, but I can't seem to find anyone to talk about it with me! I expect if I reread this novel at another time, I'll notice more things than I had this time. This book is mammoth & daunting. I guess this is what they call a "space opera." A great deal of drama over friends and foes and secret friends being secret foes and foes being secretly friends. And some fictional politics - which kind of lost me because why do I want to talk about made-up politics that aren't going to effect me when the real deal is so depressing and not going to go away when I shut the book?
So it was a great, epic novel that was daunting at first, but I feel I breezed easily through to my own surprise. I'd always felt intimidated by it's length, but I read it fairly quickly. I'll eventually get around to reading the other books in the series, but I do want to put some breaks on reading digitally. It's all fine and dandy, but not as pleasurable and satisfying as reading real books.

Bad Kid by David Crabb

Library eBook

I've never heard of David Crabb. Apparently he's a person I should know, but I'm afraid I don't. All I knew was that this is a memoir about a now-grown man who was a gay, Gothic teenager in Texas and that sounded so unlikely that I knew it was something I needed to read. Well, maybe not "unlikely," but certainly there would have to be some good stories here, right?
It would be easy to draw comparisons to David Crabb's memoir to, say David Sedaris's. I think the important difference between them is in the tone. Yeah, Sedaris is hilarious and this might feel like an imitation to his fans, but I found Sedaris' tone really harsh, mean, and bitchy - when I read Me Talk Pretty One Day in high school or early college, I hated it. I might give it another go at some point, as I have grown into a bitter and dry adult myself. My opinion of that book is completely at odds with nearly everyone I know, which leads me to believe that in forming my early impression of him I missed something important (Sedaris has made me cry when listening to his stories on NPR, so there is that).
But in David Crabb's memoir I didn't get a whiff of bitterness at all. It was so much sweeter and really refreshing. How can you grow up gay and goth in Texas and not be bitter?! I feel like it should be expected of him, he's even entitled to it! But nope, Crabb may have one of the most mature and forgiving voices I've heard from many a gay man. The important part, I believe, is that as miserable as he probably was growing up, he was still surrounded by people who loved him, even if they didn't understand him.
It's cringe-worthy, but not at a Meet the Parents level where everything just goes wrong. You can see trouble coming, especially in early chapters, but the resolution is never as humiliating as you might have foreseen. I am a straight woman, and he made me understand what it was like to feel repulsed by other women. His high school friends made me wish that I could really have met them and hung out with them (without all the pedestrian drug use, maybe). Greg seemed like a lot of fun, Sylvia is a doppelganger of one of my own high school best friends, and Max, precious, sweet cinnamon-roll too good for this world... Oh, Max. After finishing this book, I lay in bed at night thinking about that perfect bro-mance they shared.
As a "Bad Kid," it's pretty apparent that Crabb wasn't actually a bad kid. He made a lot bad choices, but once his family caught up with him, they intervened. His father coming to terms with his gay son was painful to watch, but it was obvious it was never going to end badly.
This book was funny without ever once disgusting me. In fact, beyond my expectations, it renewed my faith in humanity. I never actually expected it to be a feel-good memoir, but that's kind of what it was. I really recommend it, I don't think you'll be disappointed.

SuperMutant Magic Academy: A Graphic Novel by Jillian Tamaki

Library Copy

It's been long enough since I've written about a graphic novel, and that's not because I haven't been reading them - I absolutely have. It's just challenging to write reviews for individual TP's, so I avoid doing it. But when a graphic novel is a stand-alone thing, that makes my job easier.

Jillian Tamaki is probably best known as the illustrator of the now mandatory Summer Reading assignment for some very lucky middle-school kids - This One Summer. I'd remarked in that review of how jealous I was of her ability to draw such fluid characters and stunning landscapes. SuperMutant Magic Academy was a web-comic Tamaki made, and I have to say I kind of enjoyed seeing her art improve over the course of the series.
Each comic is brief but snarky, dark, and bitingly honest. You get a good idea of Tamaki's sense of humor, but it's a good description of the modern teen & young adult. Sure, it's set in a high-school almost Hogwarts-esque or like Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, but there's no acknowledgement that this school is especially special or woo-woo or anything like that. The students are all still teen-aged dirt-bags, and that's kinda refreshing.

I enjoyed this collection of comics, having read a few online over the years but never kept up with the web series as a whole, it's nice to be given the chance to read them all at once like this. It's also really refreshing to see talented illustrators I know from a web presence break into the publishing industry. (I mean, publishers would really have to be foolish to completely ignore that amount of popularity. That's what we like to call "leaving money on the table.") Now, what comic book will I read next time I'm waiting for my friends to meet me for coffee on Sunday mornings?

Twee: The Gentle Revolution in Music, Books, Television, Fashion, and Film

Local Bookstore
(okay, Books-a-Million)

What does the word "Twee" mean to you? You may either not even be familiar with it, or all too familiar with it. Those of you who are familiar with the term, but do not self-identify as "Twee;" you may want to sit this review out.

...Are they [the Haters] gone? Good. Now we can talk. First thing's first. What is Twee? Twee is a certain aesthetic under the umberella of "Indie" or "Hipster" - these may be more familiar to you. Specifically, Twee is a little more whimsical, sweeter, and naive, but still a very intellectual version of the Garden Variety Hipster. Think - Hipsters "That Don't Get Out Much" and you're right on track. Much more traditionally, they're just your old fashioned definition of "nerd" - back when that was meant more of a slur. So, in essence, to be Twee is to be more of an underdog. Socially awkward, neurotic, not yet embittered. Sweet, but most people are considered "underdogs" for a reason, which isn't because they're supposed to be completely likeable.
I do self-identify as Twee. I mean, come on - a girl who keeps a blog about the books she reads, wears her hair in a black bob (the more often I'm compared to Zooey Deschanel, the shorter the bob gets), rarely ventures further than her bedroom? And then there's the musical tastes: Morrissey being the darkest thing on my playlist, along with some vintage jazz and They Might Be Giants, and - can't forget this one - Belle & Sebastian? Classic Twee.
But there is something about Twee that makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I don't think it's a bad thing, but if I had to venture a guess, it's probably because a lot of the red flags of "twee-ness" can also be seen as weaknesses; too whimsical, and out of touch. The problem arises when someone thrusts their whole self into it. However, Twee was built on the foundation of escapism. During pivotal moments in history - The Great Depression, The Second World War, The AIDS scare, 9/11, Katrina - some survivors learned to cope by retreating into their childhood memories; or at least into something they feel with their whole hearts to be good. (Once again, the problem arises when you put too much of yourself into the escapism. PeeWee Herman is a good example of this). You could call it Twee, but if you studied psychology, sociology and history, you probably have fancier words for it.
Look at yourself - I'm going to assume that the age demographic of my readers are about my same age. So in doing so, I'm going to guess that you were small children in the 90's and teens around 9/11. Now, if you weren't conscious of the fact while it was happening, 9/11 was a huge social upheaval. Huge. Sure, you always hear that "life changed after that," but if you had to think about specific ways you might have a short, sundry list. It may be in little ways, but trust me that there are things that were totally commonplace before 2002 that we're likely never to see again. The resurgence in analog things like vinyl records, Lisa Frank stickers or any kind of retro toys - none of those things are coincidence. It's a "twee" way to reclaim the lives we had before 9/11 - a form of escapism. It is, of course, far more complicated than that.

Marc Spitz gives you a lot to think about - and a lot of personal research to do (thankfully, in the back of the book is a list of every movie, book, or album mentioned). Maybe some things are up for reader-debate, but I feel like it's pretty on point.
He goes through the decades, pointing out the innovations in music, cinema, fashion, and literature that many of us adore, and explains why they qualify as Twee. This can get overwhelming, especially if it's something that you've never heard of. Or worse yet, if you have heard of it and want the instant gratification of revisiting it. (I'll run through my phone's data plan pretty quickly if I wouldn't pace myself.)
I think, really, my main problem is that the later chapters are going to feel too irrelevant in even a year from now. In the future, readers will have to ignore it, because it's just the nature of the book. Still, it was satisfying to read - especially as someone who thinks of herself as a twee-princess.