palace of winds

I am really, really tired, so I should probably not be writing this. There are actually a lot of things I should not be doing, and likely chief among them is all of this going to bed after midnight, and waking up in the middle of the night anyway & being totally unable to fall back to sleep.

Anyway: Books!

The Magicians, by Lev Grossman – This was another Allison recommendation (alongside last month’s The Book of Lost Things), for “people who always secretly hope to find hidden doorways to magical worlds” — one of the most compelling book recommendations I’ve ever received. I really liked this one. Throughout the first half or two-thirds of the book I found myself faintly puzzled sometimes about the things Grossman chose to write about, why he was emphasizing certain things — but then the book twists, and twists again, and in the end it all makes much more sense and hangs together after all. There’s a follow-up coming out in August and I’m looking forward to it.

The Witch in the Wood (or The Queen of Air and Darkness), by T. H. White, read by Neville Jason – This is the second book in the Once and Future King compilation. I’ve really been enjoying the series (though it’s monstrously long and there’s a small waiting list, so I keep having to return it to the library and wait for my turn again). It’s not at all what I expected when I requested it (I put it on my list because it won the 2009 AudioFile Earphones Award) — I was expecting King Arthur, which it is, but it’s the Disney King Arthur: fun, light-hearted, and often overtly silly. I’ve been particularly enjoying the bumbling King Pellinore, Sir Palomides, and Sir Grummore; Jason’s voices for them are fantastic.

Dead Reckoning, by Charlaine Harris – I thought this latest Sookie book was much like the last few: a little disappointing. I feel like nothing much happens anymore, and the stuff that does happen doesn’t keep me on the edge of my seat. Some of the writing seemed a little rough — abrupt transitions or strange character reactions, and it seems like even she doesn’t really know where she’s going with it or why. It’s a quick read, and I like the characters, but I’m really glad I borrowed it from a friend and didn’t buy it myself.

2011 Book Count: 21
January: 6
February: 2
March: 7
April: 3
May: 3

Parts of April really sucked, and parts were pretty damn awesome. At least I chose good books (and credit to Kim and Allison, who recommended the first two, respectively).

• The Eyre Affair, by Jasper Fforde
• The Book of Lost Things, by John Connolly, read by Steven Crossley
• Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, by Patrick Süskind

2011 Book Count: 18
January: 6
February: 2
March: 7
April: 3

March sucked. Really, really sucked. I have a lot of words for how and why, but none I particularly want to share right now. Here’s what I read/listened to:

• How I Live Now, by Meg Rosoff, read by Kim Mai Guest
• The Big U, by Neal Stephenson
• The Wise Man’s Fear, by Patrick Rothfuss
• Redwall, by Brian Jacques, read by Ron Keith
• The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett
• The Stranger, by Albert Camus, translated by Matthew Ward, read by Jonathan Davis
• The Beach, by Alex Garland

2011 Book Count: 15
January: 6
February: 2
March: 7

Over six months ago, I downloaded a much-hyped little indie xbox game called Limbo. It is beautiful and clever and a bit creepy and exactly the kind of game that I adore, and I twisted my boyfriend’s arm into trying it with me. He’s not a big video game player, so I felt pretty damn excited when he tried it, and again when he liked it well enough to continue playing. Between one thing and another we let it languish for a long, long time — but last weekend we finally finished! I don’t want to give anything away because (I know I’ve been over this a million times, but you’re going to hear it again) I loved the experience of finding it all out first-hand. It’s just an awesome game: the gameplay, the art, the story. If you liked Braid, I think you’ll like Limbo too. Same spirit of puzzley goodness.

So, other than that, and everything I’ve been going on and on about on the horse blog, I moved. It sucked, but a LOT less than it could have because I have some REALLY really really amazing friends and family, and have I mentioned that they’re amazing? Thanks again guys. The gut-wrenching process of packing, and moving, and moving, and moving, and cleaning — it’s already starting to fade to a distant, hazy memory of suffering. (I have to admit — though the night before the actual move I was seriously nauseous and convinced the world was going to end, the morning of I got this absolute rush of adrenaline and crazy, and for the beginning part of packing the truck I felt totally happy and high as a kite. That wore off eventually and by the end of the day I wanted to die, but that will surprise no one who’s ever moved.)

So now here I am in this great new place, and I’m suddenly socked with this cannonball of a realization that I somehow have to fit all of my personal belongings, which had previously been tucked away in the vast warren of closets of my old one-bedroom apartment, into this one small bedroom. In the process of packing I did send off boxes and boxes of stuff to donate — lots of books, clothes, and home decor — but I’m still left with this feeling that I have too many things and not enough space to put them in. I will be combing back through my drawers and bookshelves, and I’ve invested quite a bit in organizational stuff for my closet, but I’m fast coming up on some harder decisions.

I moved on a Saturday and I kid you not, on Monday I had people asking me if I was all unpacked. Talk about guilt. Talk about being buried suddenly under this crushing sense of failure. Maybe people are just trying to make conversation, and I’m all too aware that I’m unusually emotionally vulnerable lately, but man. That is one I didn’t see coming, the expectation that I would move on a Saturday and be unpacked by Monday. Like it’s that easy, like why don’t I just take some stuff out of boxes?

When I moved into my first apartment I thought a lot about how I wanted it. I considered the flow, I plotted stuff out on graph paper and made little furniture representations so I could look at arrangements without really having to rearrange. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed about when I had a place I could paint, about elements of my ideal home, about one day having somewhere permanent. I couldn’t afford much but I did what I could and started taking notes for One Day. I made my bedroom a No Electronics zone: no computer, no tv. I did leave my sewing machine there, but as part of my crafting and writing desk — my little place for inspiration and creation. The rest of the bedroom was a space to breathe and decompress.

Man, I loved living there. I learned so much about myself in that apartment.

I’ve always liked to see moving as an opportunity to self-reflect, to try to move closer toward my ideal life, but this, now, is no gentle invitation. This is a demand that I stand up and reinvent myself. So I have been trying to take a good hard look at my life. I am trying to hold onto only the things that I love and that make me feel good about myself. I’m trying to rediscover the path to what and who I want to be. I’m trying to free myself to fit in this smaller space. I know it can be done. It’s just one foot in front of the other. One box at a time.

This is not where I thought I’d be at this point in my life, but it’s where I am. And that, I suppose, makes it the perfect place to start.

So, February wasn’t nearly as good as January reading-wise — but I was also sort of consumed with trying to get back in a regular riding routine and packed to move to a new apartment. (Aside: For the most part I hate moving. I hate packing and unpacking, I hate the weeks of dread before the actual move that I spend thinking about how much the actual move is going to suck, I hate the actual move. I hate the uncertainty. It’s such an act of hope, moving, believing that the next place is going to be better in some way. I — really didn’t mean to go here, so just: life is confusing lately, but I think this is going to be a good thing. I’m not looking forward to moving, but I’m excited to actually be moved.)

Jocey lent me Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle — well, a long time ago. A really, really long time ago. And it sat in my pile of books to read. And sat. And sat. I finally picked it up this month, and it was just perfect. Utterly delightful and charming, very Jane Austen-esque. There’s something that happens toward the very end of the book that made me literally laugh aloud and bounce in my seat a bit at a coffee shop. Highly recommended, especially for Austen fans.

I didn’t read any other books this month, and had I don’t even know how many audiobook holds expire on the library shelf because I just haven’t made it in — but I have one more thing I’m going to count: Savage Love. I’ve heard it mentioned on and off over the years, but never read it myself. I know, I know, I’m the last one on the bandwagon. But this month I read through all of the online archives. All of them. A dozen years of Savage Love. 630 entries. I think that counts for at least one.

2011 Book Count: 8
January: 6
February: 2